@Lord_Thorne: That is pretty dark, but really good. I particularly love the framing device.

@frauzet and Iheaca: I was a history major, and while classical and medieval stuff wasn’t my main interest, that was basically all the history classes my undergrad university offered, so I know far more about this than I ever wanted to. As such, I can confirm that the Romans were fairly lax in terms of religion and traditions in conquered territories as long as nobody rebelled and the tribute money kept flowing in. They would even try to justify other cultures’ religions as fitting within the broader Roman pantheon. Sometimes they would have things like Mars and Ares, where the two weren’t really all that similar but the Romans decided they were the same dude just to keep everyone happy. Other times, you got instances like (I think) Apollo, where they would add another culture’s gods to their pantheon wholesale. This was one of their main methods of controlling people, so they ran into a lot of issues with monotheism. The Jews were kind of grandfathered in since they were such an old culture (though even then, Judea rebelled against Rome something like five times) but that was why the Roman establishment came down on the Christians so hard. Ironically, Christianity may have become so widespread precisely because of Roman persecution, but that’s another long story.

Circling back around to the main point, I can absolutely see the Empire allowing a coming-of-age ritual to continue among a sufficiently large population rather than poke the hornet’s nest and cause another Colossus Revolt.

Green Jedi Enclave – Corellia

Alright, so 4 AM wasn’t the best time for a cup of caf. Master Viena Drenn didn’t especially care. She was up, and blast it, she was going to get some work done. That or stare blearily out the window while waiting for the caffeine to take effect.

Really, it was probably the second one. That would probably explain why she’d wandered over to the Temple’s training facility without really realizing that was where she was going. She was unsurprised to hear the clash of training sabers as she approached the door; the Green Jedi counted a number of Selonians and Drall in their ranks, and members of those nocturnal species usually preferred to train at night.

Before she went in, Drenn tried to take a sip of her caf, burning her tongue on the hot, bitter liquid. She wasn’t sure exactly who’d broken the machine, but ever since they’d done it, the infernal thing seemed insistent on heating the caf just shy of its boiling point. She’d hoped it would’ve cooled down by now.

The door slid open, giving her a view of the cavernous training room. It didn’t compare to some of the facilities on Coruscant or Tython, but it was impressive nonetheless. Dim lights embedded in a two-story-high ceiling cast their dim glow across the room’s beige-painted metal floor. As expected, the usual assortment of aliens and training droids sparred quietly, spaced out around the room. A few of them stopped to wave to Master Drenn, and she politely returned the gesture.

In the far corner of the room, a young human man with short wavy hair was dueling three training droids, with two more lying in a heap nearby. His cloak and tunic were draped over one of the weapons racks against the wall and he fought with two training sabers. Master Drenn guessed by the droids’ stances that they were on their hardest difficulty setting.

As Master Drenn approached, she noted with some pride the young man’s flawless elimination of one of droids: a feint with the main hand saber, a strike to the sensor cluster with the off hand, and a Force push into the wall while it was blinded. As she reached the fight, the young man still didn’t seem to have noticed her, instead concentrating on incapacitating another of his mechanical opponents.

She quietly set down her coffee cup and, with a sly smile, picked up one of the droids’ training sabers. While the young man was defeating the final droid, she swung at him. Without missing a beat, he blocked the strike and rounded on Master Drenn. She stepped backwards, quickly swatting away each of his carefully-placed strikes.

Finally, she spotted her opening. He’d overcommitted to a swing. She parried the attack and while he was recovering, she moved in for another strike, only to notice his other saber right in front of her throat.

“Bam. You’re dead,” her padawan said with a grin.

“You’re up early,” she said, stepping back and dropping her saber.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Something bothering you?”

“Ah, the shipyards are noisy. You know how it is.”

She studied her apprentice’s eyes.

“You’re not that good of a liar, Ja-mags.”

He sighed, turning to face the Corellian skyline out the nearest window.

“Haven’t you felt it?” he asked.

“Felt what?” she questioned.

“Something in the Force,” he explained, “Not quite a disturbance, not like you get when someone dies. Maybe more of a ripple.”

Master Drenn thought about that for a moment. Why was she up at 4 AM?

“I guess now that you mention it, maybe I have,” she said slowly.

“Something big’s going to happen,” Ja-mags said, “You know it, I know it, and someone’s got to do something about it.”

“And what is something?” Master Drenn asked.

“It’s not what the Green Jedi are doing,” Ja-mags replied bluntly, “We’re Corellians. We’re supposed to take the lead; make things happen. Instead we’ve stuck our heads in the sand and we’re waiting for some Sith to come along and ram a lightsaber straight up-”

“Alright,” Master Drenn interrupted, “I get the picture. That still doesn’t tell me what you’re going to do.”

He turned back to her, and she saw in his eyes a sadness she’d never quite noticed there before.

“I’m going to Tython,” he said, “I’ll complete my trials there and get out on the front lines to meet whatever this is head-on.”

His tone was calm and measured, like he was used to the idea, or perhaps resigned to it. He’d been thinking about this for some time, and Master Drenn doubted anything she could say could dissuade him.

“Just do one thing for me before you leave,” she said.

“Name it,” Ja-mags replied.

“For Pete’s sake, put your shirt on.”

Ja-mags laughed as he strolled over to the wayward garment.

“Hey,” he said, “It’s a distraction tactic.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, young one,” Master Drenn joked, “I sincerely hope you aren’t trying to impress all the Sith girls.”

“A Jedi’s limits must always be put to the test,” deadpanned Ja-mags, pulling his tunic on.

Master Drenn was going to crack another joke, but as he began to walk towards the door, it occurred to her that if she didn’t say what she really wanted to, she may never get the chance.

“Ja-mags?”

He paused and looked over his shoulder at her.

“Don’t get killed out there,” she said, choking up slightly, “I can’t lose another padawan.”

Ja-mags nodded.

“I won’t let you down, Master.”

-

According to Wookieepedia, the Selonians have excellent night vision. Additionally, they’re musteline, and the member of Sub-Family Mustilinae that I found that bore the most physical resemblance to Selonians (the Black-Footed Ferret) is also nocturnal. Wookieepedia also says that the Selonians are descended from otter-like creatures, but Wikipedia says that otters are the only mustelids that are not mustilines (associated instead with Sub-Family Lutrinae). As far as otters go, the two that I found that look the most like Selonians are the North American River Otter (partially nocturnal) and the Neotropical Otter (diurnal). I figured it was reasonable to assume the Selonians were probably nocturnal.

For the Drall, they’re cave-dwellers based on various burrowing species, so I assume they favor the dark as well.

The name “Jamags,” or in this case, “Ja-mags” is sort of an in-joke with me. It’s kinda found its way into most of my online usernames and I tend to give it to lots of my characters. The original-ish Jamags was a character I created for Clone Wars-era stories, and so I tried to recreate that character in SWTOR. After a few failed attempts to reconcile them as being the same person (and needing to recreate the character due to an unrelated incident – hence the hyphen) I decided that SWTOR Ja-mags is just a distant ancestor of Clone Wars-era Jamags. That created its own set of problems, but one thing at a time, right?

Also, I was going for sort of a mother-son/aunt-nephew kind of relationship for Master Drenn and Ja-mags, and I’m worried it might’ve come out as a romantic subtext. Any thoughts on that?

Pansey's lower lip trembled. She was trying her hardest not to cry; it was unbecoming for a Lord of the Sith. "I love you," Malavai Quinn pledged, "I've always loved you. And, I know it's not proper of me to speak out of turn, but.. will you marry me?"

"Oh, yes!" Pansey exclaimed, "A thousand times yes. You've made me the happiest girl in the galaxy."

"Splendid," Quinn replied, a knowing smile crossing his face, "Tell your friends and family. We'll plan the ceremony. It will be magnificent."

"Oh Malavai," Pansey blubbered, melting into his arms.

Quinn held her for a moment, then gently separated the two of them so he could look her in the eyes. "Now, my Lord, there is still important business at hand which needs to be addressed. Darth Baras set up a blockade around Correlia, though I've identified some tech that should allow us to slip through undetected. With your permission, I'd like to set a course to a scuttled Imperial ship that I've set a beacon to."

"Of course, Mal," Pansey blushes, straightening up her pink uniform and trying to regain that look of professionalism through her racing emotions. "Whatever you think is for the best," she agrees, trusting in Quinn's intentions while her mind was so clearly otherwise occupied.

Pansey and Jaesa navigated the abandoned Imperial shuttle, enthusiastically gabbing away at girl talk, until the bridge doors swung open and a shadowy figure appeared in front of them.

"I am sorry, my Lord," Malavai Quinn said insincerely, turning to face Pansey with a blaster in his hand, two large battle droids standing at his flanks, "I have been loyal to Darth Baras all along, and everything I've ever done with you, I've reported back to my true master."

"But... you said you loved me," Pansey whimpered weakly.

"Which is why I apologize now that I shall have to kill you," Quinn offered nonchalantly, breaking the young Darth's heart. When Quinn attacked, Pansey was filled with a whirlwind of emotions, hurt and heartbreak, anger and confusion, and an unmitigated rage that she had never experienced in her life, channeling in the Dark Side of the force in a way she never had before. The specialized battle droids Quinn had crafted were crushed into tight balls of scrap, Quinn himself bleeding from his nose and ears as the pressure built around him.

"I... yield.." Quinn bluffed, begging for mercy, "You are Darth Baras's better and I was a fool to side with him. I swear, spare me and you shall never have cause to doubt my loyalty again."

Pansey glowered angrily at Quinn, debating whether or not she should allow him to live after this betrayal.

"I still love you," Quinn claimed.

Pansey bit her bottom lip, the whirlwind of emotions clouding her judgement. "I..." Pansey said softly, "I'll need some time."

Commander Pansey stood in the Command Center, looking across to her two most trusted Lieutenants. "If you'll here her out," Theron Shan negociated, "I'm sure she can show you exactly why our Alliance is better served alongside the Republic."

The woman he introduced had a thick Imperial accent, but wore Republic Officer's stripes on her uniform. "I was once just like you, Commander," Elara Dorne explained, "The Empire is filled with good people, innocent people with good hearts. But time after time, I witnessed corrupt and wicked rulers who exploited and oppressed their people. I labored within the Empire for years striving for change before I realized that it didn't matter who was seated on that Dark Counsel, the Empire would always be the same. And yet, the people whom we had been raised to see as our enemies, the Republic, they were also filled with good people. People who treated aliens and non-force users as valued citizens instead of simply resources to be expended. It turns out, after all those years of service, the Empire I was trying to create was the very thing the Republic already is."

Pansey was blown away. You could have knocked her over with a feather. This woman, this Republic officer, had just expressed everything that Pansey had always been striving to accomplish. Pansey had been raised to never see the Republic as anything more than enemies, but working alongside Theron Shan and Aric Jorgan and other noble souls, she realized now there was more to it. Entire nations were not inherently good or evil. People were largely good, and the goal was simply to ensure that good people led them, rather than bad people taking advantage of them.

"If you'll allow me to interject," Lana Beniko cut in before Pansey was too thoroughly enamored with the dream Dorne had just sold, "I have my own emissary from the Empire who would like to speak with you."

Pansey turned her gaze away from Dorne and towards the shadowy figure entering the command center from behind Lana. Then she caught sight of his aggressively parted hair, his distinguishing mole, and her heart lept up into her chest. It was Malavai Quinn.

"Malavai.." Pansey gasp.

"Yes, my Lord," Quinn answered stoically, "I am here on behalf of the Empire, to plead with you not to align the superweapon to our enemies."

"Where have you been?" Pansey asked, her head spinning through the rush of emotions.

"I.. When you and Darth Marr were lost to the Eternal Fleet, I spent months searching for you," Quinn explained, "I would have stopped at nothing to find you. Some of the members of the Dark Counsel determined that they did not want the Emperor's Wrath to be found. They ordered me to stop. And when I wouldn't, they threw me in prison."

"Five years I was frozen in carbonite," Pansey whispered, her eyes welling back tears.

"And five years I languished in an Imperial prison," Quinn replied, "All for you. My loyalty to you has never wavered. I defied the Dark Counsel for you. And now, all I want is to have the woman I love by my side once again. When Empress Acina heard that you were on Iokath, she had me freed, knowing that only I could look you in the eyes and promise you an unending loyalty."

Pansey threw her arms around Quinn in a hug. "Oh Malavai," she blubbered, "I'm so sorry you had to go through all of that. I can't believe the Empire imprisoned you for all those years, and all for me. I knew you'd never turn your back on me. Not again."

"So the answer is clear," Quinn said with a knowing grin.

Pansey floored him with her response. "Of course," she pledged, "We'll back the Republic. I'll never forgive the Empire for what they put you through. Elara, can your people arrange political asylum for my boyfriend? Keep him safe while the Alliance secures the weapon, and then we'll-"

"Pardon me," Malavai Quinn says politely, stepping around Pansey to maneuver himself towards her rear, and then taking off at a dead sprint. As Quinn reaches the doors of the command center, he activates the remote detonator in his hand, causing the numerous explosive devices he had covertly planted in the command center to detonate. Pansey turned to chase after him, but as the entire command center threatened to collapse, it was all she could do to summon the force, holding up several metal beams to prevent Theron and Dorne from being crushed.

Lana Beniko cursed under her breath. "Apologies, Commander," Lana offered in contrition, "Captain Quinn told me the two of you were close. I never would have imagined he would betray you."

"No," Pansey said sourly, "But I should have. Some people never change."

Quinn bowed his head before Pansey, groveling before his former master. "I do apologize, my Lord," Quinn claimed, with the same detached, professional inflection he had used the past two times he had made attempts on her life. "As of this moment, I have been surrendered by the Empire and am officially a prisoner of your Alliance, to do with as you will."

"Quinn, you tried to kill me," Pansey said, the hurt apparent in her voice.

"I assure you, I never dreamed you would side with the Republic," he lied.

Pansey glowered at him dubiously. "Then why did you secretly conceal explosives in my command room," Pansey accused, "Explosives that only YOU had the detonator for. You knew exactly what you were doing!"

"Empress Acina made it clear that obtaining the Iokath superweapon was of paramount importance," he excused himself, "I couldn't allow my personal feelings-"

"Empress Acina is dead," Pansey fumed, "And this is the SECOND time you've tried to kill me."

"You're not still angry about that, are you?" Quinn said, smugly dismissive, as if his previous betrayal were nothing and Pansey were at fault for mentioning it, "That was over five years ago."

"Not for me!" Pansey sobbed, "I was frozen in carbonite for five years. Cold and alone, with nothing but bad dreams about Valkorian. Five years of my life just gone. You may feel like you did that five years ago, but for me it was last freaking month!"

"Then I apologize, my Lord," Quinn offered insincerely, "How may I prove my loyalty. I do swear to never plot your demise a third time."

"Quinn, I can't do this anymore," Pansey said, tears streaking down her face, "I'm the Commander of the Alliance. There are entire worlds that depend on me. I can't risk millions of lives trusting someone who never stops plotting against me."

"I can stop trying to kill you," Quinn claims, a hint of fear now crossing his face, "I can change. I can be loyal. I was loyal to Baras, to Acina."

"But never to me," Pansey cried.

Quinn cast his gaze towards the floor. "I still love you," he suggested meekly.

"Maybe," Pansey said, closing her eyes, afraid to look at him, "But I have responsibilities now." Her glowing pink lightsaber hummed to life, protruding out of Quinn's back as he fell into her arms for one final embrace. "I can't be with a man who lies to me. Not anymore."

Pansey gazed fondly into the big, bashful eyes of her new boyfriend, a faint smile of hope raising up at the corners of her mouth. He looked back at her, meek and humble, basking in how incredibly fortunate he was to have her.

"I just got out of a really bad relationship," Pansey confessed, "A really rotten creep who was always lying to me and running around behind my back."

"Then I should thank him," Guss Tuno replied, "Because if he hadn't been so awful, I might never have got to know you."

Guss lay his webbed fingers over the back of Pansey's hand and she blushed, her green cheeks lighting up a brighter orange. "Just promise me you'll never lie to me," Pansey asked, "I don't think my heart could take it again, finding out that the man I'm with is not what he pretends to be."

"I promise," Guss pledged, crossing his heart, grateful to have found a place at the side of the most powerful woman in the galaxy. "I would never, ever lie to you."

Pansey smiled, showing off her sparkling teeth, his eyes lighting up in hope and excitement. "Thank you," she said, hugging Guss close to her, "I've never met another Sith Lord quite like you, Lord Struction."

Guss swallowed hard. This was one lie he greatly regretted telling.

I was doing fine, hating Quinn, hating Quinn is my vocation and my addiction, and then you made me hate him some more (as a side note that thing about Elara's speech and Pansey's aspiration was utterly stellar), and I was really getting into a hating-Quinn groove, and then I died

Guss is the real hero.

Spoilers for ?Iokath?, does Quinn really try to kill you again if you side with the Republic? I've neither played it nor had the patience to Youtube it. What does Elara do, threaten to leave a negative Yelp review on the site of your negotiations?

Yes. In Knights of the Feet, if the Warrior sides with the Republic, Quinn makes a second attempt on their life. And then, immediately following the Iokath arc, Quinn comes BACK to the Warrior, apologizes and offers to become your prisoner.

Story Options are:

1) Make out and resume romance

2) Throw him in prison forever

3) Kill him

Not sure what happens if you side with the Empire. I've run it twice, first with my good natured Pansey who was convinced by Dorne that the Republic was the way to go. And then second with a Trooper who ended up siding with the Republic. Whenever I get there with my Bounty Hunter, I'm going to give the Empire a nod and see what happens that way.

Don't know if you were aware of this since you haven't played Knights of the Feet yet, but the Alliance Alert to recruit Guss Tuno, at least as the Warrior, Blizz brings you there to meet Guss on Nar Shaddaa, calling him "Jedi Man". Guss sees you and is afraid, so he lies and introduces himself as a Sith Lord named "Lord Struction". You're supposed to threaten him or catch him in his lie, but I decided that Pansey would still be naïve enough to just believe him, and invite him to join while considering him a powerful Sith Lord. Which makes for a hilarious finale to her dating, with the idea she's just being duped again.

Iirc, Elara, too throws a bomb, if you choose to side with the Empire. I think you get the chance to recruit her back anyway, if you play a trooper, but I never took that path with a trooper myself, so I'm not sure.

I think I'm one of the few Quinn supporters around, but this version really does deserve the saber. One has to draw a line somewhere. And Guss is one of my absolute favorite companions. I fear for his fate in your hands now...

Good 'origin story' for Pholux. I can't help but wonder if Thrakkis was in on the Sacking of Coruscant (re my Bad Timing entry a few posts later) And, yeah, I too have a rather jaundiced view of Mandos.

@JamagsAwesome: I do not feel any sexual tension in what you wrote. The mother/son relationship works quite well. There is connivance (is that the right word?) but just how two excellent friens or members of a family would feel for each other. Nice start for Ja-Mags. :-)

@drug-cartel: Nooooooooooooooo! Will Pansey stop being naive after another betrayal? I am part of the people who cannot suffer Quinn. Who could not even suffer him before his first betrayal. He would have gotten stuck on a lightsaber earlier with probably any of my Imp characters. The only thing that saved another people so far is the fact that my Nyx agrees to second chances. But a third one? Never (did you hear me well, spy boy??? )

@drug_cartel: I’m not sure who I feel sorrier for, Pansey or Guss. I’d add Quinn to the running, but honestly, he kind of had that coming.

@frauzet: I believe that Quinn will join up with a Republic-aligned Warrior, but Dorne will not join an Empire-aligned Trooper. I don’t know this from experience, though (have only completed Iokath on one character since I’m usually too busy running more alts through the class stories to be doing the exact same high-level stuff over and over again).

@Lord_Thorne: On the point about Thrakkis, well, funny you should ask…

Belth Allusis Memorial Hospital, Coruscant

“Well, I guess I joined up the day I turned eighteen. I mean, it’s not like anybody was throwing a birthday party for a Coruscanti street kid with no family. I figured I might as well do something productive for a change. You know, go fight the Empire and defend democracy in the galaxy, stuff like that. Of course, on my first deployment we get the Imperial 8th Fleet bearing down on the planet. This was on Duro, too. I mean, talk about an easy post, right?”

<Yeah, easy. Nobody would hit that close the Core, right?> mumbled the Duros trooper in the bed across from Jaks’ in Huttese.

“Look, LT,” Jaks said, half-joking, “If you wanna tell the story, be my guest.”

<Nah,> said Lieutenant Daal, <It’s funnier when you tell it, sergeant. I like how when you finally get to the point, there’s an extra Sith every time you tell it.>

“I don’t know how many there were. Maybe there were three. Maybe there were five. They’re wily that way.”

The doctor looked between the two, somewhat confused, before returning to whatever calculations he was making on his datapad.

<Whatever you say, Kenn.>

“Right, so as I was saying,” Jaks continued, “We get attacked by something like half the Empire. There’s this Jedi there, a Corellian – did I mention that Corellians invented the hyperdrive?”

Lieutenant Daal responded with a rude gesture.

<It was the Duros and you know it, Sergeant.>

“Anyway, she says she’s gonna go buy us some time to get the civilians out of dodge. Well, that obviously doesn’t work, because next thing I know there are something like seven Sith-”

<One.>

“We’ll compromise and call it six. As I was saying, they get dropped in by shuttle and start tearing things up. So they’re going right for this kid-”

<All six of them, huh?>

“I mean, really. You can tell it. Be my guest.”

<No, no, I want to hear about the six Sith. What’d they all do together, Jaks?>

“Well, they’re all going for this kid, and everybody else is busy fighting, so-”

For the first time since Jaks had started talking, the doctor looked up.

“Weren’t all the Sith attacking the kid?” the sour-looking Nautolan asked.

“Yeah, but the rest of the guys were fighting the droids.”

<Oh, this version has droids!>

“You’re blasted right it does,” said Jaks, “So I step out in front of the Sith and say ‘You’re gonna have to go through me.’”

<And so they did.>

“Don’t listen to him. He’s just trying to start trouble. Anyway, I was the champion quickdraw artist of the entire regiment. This Sith-”

<Which one?>

“The leader, obviously. Big guy, got some horns and tattoos going on, kinda scary-looking. This guy’s barely even reached his ugly red glowstick by the time I zap him in the throat. Boom! He goes down.”

<And what happened to the other five?>

“They obviously scattered in fear when their leader was gunned down.”

<Oh, how could I forget?>

“And alright, so maybe the lead Sith didn’t actually fall over, and I mostly just made him angry. But you know what? It gave the LT here time to get that little Duros kid out of the thick of the fighting and onto the shuttle.”

<And that part’s true,> Daal said with a nod, <The sergeant here may be an idiot, but he’s a hero too.>

“Uh…” Jaks said, narrative grinding to a stop, “Look. I did what had to be done. Let’s not start throwing around the h-word.”

The hospital room fell silent for a moment, disturbed only by the beeping of one of the medical devices.

The doctor looked up again.

“Weren’t you going to talk about what happened to your eye?” he asked.

“I mean, it’s nothing you wouldn’t expect. The guy cut me, and somehow I lived. Dumb luck, I guess. Speaking of which… what’s the prognosis?”

“Your eye will heal,” the Nautolan said, “If that was a lightsaber wound, it must have just barely grazed you.”

“Remind me to send a thank-you letter to the helmet manufacturer,” Jaks interjected.

The doctor just grimaced.

“It will leave a scar, however. There’s not much we can do about that.”

“Ah, that’s fine,” Jaks said, folding his arms behind his head and settling into the cheap flat pillow, “It’ll enhance my rugged charm.”

<You couldn’t charm the wings off a mynock, Sergeant.>

“Please, I could charm the horns off a kr-”

He paused as he heard a loud crash in the distance.

“What was that?” he said quickly.

The doctor shot to his feet and ran to the hospital room’s large window.

“Looks like something’s going on at the Jedi Temple,” he said, “Maybe a speeder crash?”

“‘Whoops, I didn’t notice the giant temple in my way. It’s only been the biggest building on the planet for twenty thousand years,’” Jaks joked as he stumbled out of the bed to join the doctor at the window.

That’s when he saw them. At first, it was one of the fighters that caught his eye, but he looked up into the sky to see massive Imperial starships dropping out of hyperspace.

“It’s the Empire,” he breathed, “They’re here.”

The doctor looked to the two troopers with a panicked expression.

“This is a military hospital,” he said, “If they know where it is, they’ll kill everyone here.”

The three spent a moment processing what was happening before Lieutenant Daal spoke.

<Sergeant, do you know how to fly a starship?>

“Never touched anything more than a Skyhopper, LT. Why?”

<Now would be an excellent time to learn,> said Daal, <Listen, there’s a beautiful XS Freighter at the spaceport. We’re going to go for it.>

“Not a chance,” Jaks said, “We’ll never get everyone in the hospital all the way to the spaceport; we’ll get gunned down by the Empire.”

<Everyone in the hospital?> Daal interjected, <What are you talking about?>

“Look, you’ll move faster if you go for the freighter alone. Doctor Krehn, I need you to gather the patients and staff and get them to the landing pad on the roof. I’ll make sure the Imp ground troops don’t come knocking.”

Daal sighed.

<There you go with the heroics again, Jaks.>

“Stop using the H-word!” Jaks yelled as he was charging out the door.

He ran through the dull metal hallways, automatic doors hissing open and shut as he passed them. He didn’t even stop to check that Daal and Krehn had gotten moving until he was waiting for the elevator.

Really, he thought, Can’t they put a staircase in here?

When he finally burst out of the hospital’s entrance, his worst fears were confirmed. Three Imperial troopers approached him, drawing their rifles.

“Don’t shoot!” he cried in his best Imperial accent, “I’m one of yours!”

“What? One of ours?” the lead trooper asked, confused.

“It’s a prison in there!” Jaks said, “I broke loose while the guards were distracted by your ships! We can get all of our people out, but I need a weapon.”

The lead trooper somewhat hesitantly started to hand him a pistol and then stopped.

“What’s your name and identification number?” he asked.

“It’s, uh, Corporal Nnek, my number is… THX-1138,” Jaks mumbled.

“That’s not a valid-”

Jaks snatched the pistol out of the man’s hand and shot him with it.

The other two troopers jumped back in surprise and Jaks blasted another one through the helmet as he dived behind a crate that had been left out on the speeder pad. As he did, he felt the searing hot sensation of a blaster bolt clipping his shoulder.

He stood up from behind the crate and shot the last trooper. Looking around to make sure there weren’t any more, Jaks limped over and picked up another pistol.

“Stupid Imperial pistols only fire once every other hour,” Jaks muttered to himself, “Need two of the blasted things to get anything done.”

Something crashed noisily into the façade of the hospital behind him before landing on the ground. Jaks looked over to see an armored Republic trooper, battered and missing an arm. She briefly tried to hoist herself up with a pained grunt before collapsing, dead.

Jaks swallowed dryly and slowly turned to face away from the hospital. There he was. There was not a doubt in Jaks’ mind about it: it was the Sith from Duro. Jaks noted, with just a twinge of pride, the cybernetics around the massive Zabrak’s neck.

Bet he won’t recognize me without my helmet. I can still salvage this, he thought.

“My lord!” Jaks said out loud, “Some Republic scum ambushed us from this building and killed three of my men! They went that way! If we hurry, we can catch-”

Feeling his windpipe close off was a strange sensation. No matter how hard he tried to breathe, the air wouldn’t flow. As he was lifted off the ground, he began to feel a tingling numbness in his fingers and toes.

“I am Lo- Darth Thrakkis, Conqueror of Telos and Scourge of Duro,” the Zabrak growled, “And I will suffer no liars.”

Jaks carefully placed his finger on the trigger of one of his pistols, still gasping for breath. In an instant, the weapon was ripped from his hand.

“I recognize you, worm,” said Thrakkis, “You cannot disguise yourself from the Force.”

As his vision started to go blurry, Jaks heard a faint sound in the distance. Was that… music?

So this is what it feels like to die, he thought.

As the music became louder, Thrakkis’ grip loosened. Evidently, he heard it too. Jaks recognized, perhaps quicker than Thrakkis did, the Republic anthem, All Stars Burn as One.

Then he saw them: three targeting lights, closing in right on Thrakkis’ head. As the XS Freighter whose speakers were playing the music roared overhead, Jaks wanted to laugh. When the entire area around Thrakkis erupted in flame and the Sith’s Force grip halted, he did.

The freighter stopped to hover in front of Jaks and the boarding ramp slid down to reveal Lieutenant Daal.

<You actually did it, Sergeant!> he yelled over the scream of the engines, <They’re all on the roof! Let’s go before any more Sith show up!>

Jaks glanced at Thrakkis’ corpse only to see that the Sith, while charred and twisted, was still moving.

“Does this guy ever die?!” Jaks complained.

<Don’t worry about him; get on the blasted ship!> Daal snapped, dragging Jaks onto the boarding ramp.

“Alright, let’s get going,” Jaks said as the ramp closed, “Looks like we’ve got a galaxy to save.”

<You’re a hero, Jaks,> said the lieutenant, <You saved all of our hides buying us time out there.>

“There’s the H-word again,” Jaks said, “Now you’re just doing that to annoy me.”

-

A/N: Story takes place outside of my main story's (DD) universe.

Rum and just the faintest hint of spices, exactly what she expected to taste but that mint he'd taken—though considerate—ruined much of the experience and offered an odd mixture of flavors. Still, that was hardly the worst part. What really put her off was his tongue swirling around inside her mouth and lapping so vigorously she half suspected he might be checking her for cavities. Scra.ping her bottom lip with his teeth by accident and there was so much saliva involved she felt the moisture even down on her chin.

Over the course of the past minutes, he'd fumbled with his hands on her body as well. First attempting to weave his fingers into her hair but when he snagged her ear in the process, it became awkward. He'd tried taking a hold of her shoulders instead but that just made her feel she was making out with a twelve year old. Better to put his hands on her hips then except, he'd accidentally grabbed her as.s instead—something she loved—but that left him so startled his arms now dangled down his own body without touching her at all.

Save for his lips chewing on hers still. Such enthusiasm on his part but she had to pull away.

“Corso, this isn't going to work.”

“Captain?” The young man she saw him as stared at her with a fluster on his dark cheeks.

He was no Skavak, she realized, and she damned the blaster hanging from her hip. The blaster that had put an end to months of playing cat and mouse with the worst—and thus best—man she'd ever taken between her thighs. Oh, his kiss had been heaven and hell combined, the perfect climax to their rivalry and she'd miss it for years to come.

“We tried, alright? I'm just not the kind of girl for you.”

At least she'd given him a chance, he deserved that much after all they'd gone through and the chivalry he'd shown but chivalry wasn't her thing. Nice, innocent, and sweet we're not for her and neither was he—she'd ruin him in a matter of weeks.

“You mean I'm not the kind of man you're looking for,” he caught on quick despite his usual naivety.

“Yeah, that too, and I'd rather have you around as a trusted friend than use you up and spit you out the way I tend to do with guys like you.”

“I can handle more than you give me credit for but if this is how you feel...”

The scruffy kid took his defeat better than she'd anticipated—in truth, the risk of a fallout had been the thing holding her back for so long—and he put the bottle of rum back to his lips. Swaying until his not entirely unattractive body found the lounger where he let himself drop.

Drunk. They'd both enjoyed far too much liquid courage and needed it, and perhaps that hadn't exactly paved the way to success in this small endeavor, but what was done was done. Likely for the best as well and in the months that followed, their friendship flourished. Her love life did not.

On Balmorra, she stumbled across a Twi'lek who she thought might just take her mind off Skavak but he failed in every possible way and somehow, managed to dethrone Corso as the worst kisser ever in the process. Odd because she'd heard great things about Twi'leks and surely, there was a reason the Hutts were so keen on them in their establishments, but perhaps Brock was the exception to the rule.

He almost suffocated her and not because his passion took her breath away. Sure, his lips tasted wonderful and his tongue knew exactly what to do but there was one unexpected turn to their little make-out session. Evidently, kissing wasn't reserved just for two sets of lips meeting, not with a Twi'lek, and Brock wanted her mouth on one of his lekku as well. A lekku he then slipped into her mouth and that left her gagging, struggling for air. It put a quick end to their little affair and she kept warm through the night with a bottle of whiskey instead.

It was safe to say Brock didn't make into her treasured top three, a list consisting of two entries only—Skavak as the reigning number one, and Darmas Pollaran as a decent second.

A man she'd more than once kissed because he was one of the few who knew how to handle her. He never let her trample all over him and took charge when it came to their passion, forcing her surrender and commanding her pleasure. Just his kiss alone had the power to bring her to new heights and leave her squirming in his arms begging for another. Men like Darmas were a rare find but through all the delights they shared there was never any love.

Of course, their tryst ended when she discovered the truth about him. Darmas was an Imperial Agent and a damned good one. Maybe she should have known—she had a habit of falling for the bad guys, the enemy—and her chemistry with him was only ever matched by one other. Him she'd killed but Darmas? There might have been some love after all, or at least a deep sense of affection because he bribed her to let him go and she did.

On Voss, she met another who failed to make her top three. Lokir-Ka, a Voss himself who managed to tempt her plenty but she nearly vomited at his feet before their lips ever met. There was a peculiar odor to the Voss, more prevalent when he opened his mouth, and she had to fight her gag reflexes to give him a chance. If he was any good, she would fight harder to deal with his foul breath but the man lacked any sense of passion. Stiff, cautious and slow as if he worked from a manual he'd studied. No, the Voss wasn't for her.

“Perhaps finding that one perfect kiss, that one perfect man is just impossible,” she told Corso when they arrived back on the Republic Fleet after yet another long journey.

Ilum had come and gone, more Imperial and Sith trash to deal with, and so had Makeb. The woman she'd met there, Lemda Avesta, had seemed like a fair conquest and she'd considered perhaps Lemda could offer her what no man—well, save for one now very dead man—had ever offered her before but the geophysicist had been another disappointment.

“Maybe you need to stop lookin' for perfect,” Corso offered.

“That's rich coming from you with your dreamy eyes and endless fantasies of that one special lady.”

He flashed her half a grin but before they got any further into their discussion about fairytale princesses and rugged daredevils, a small astromech interrupted and though she didn't know it yet, its message would change her life.

No, not because of the handsome SIS Agent who awaited her in a private office on the Fleet though he'd been alluring enough that she'd sampled his lips by the time they met up again on Manaan. And afterward, they'd laughed because by then, they'd already fallen into an adoring friendship that lacked any passion or physical attraction, let alone more than that.

It was on Manaan, however, that she first laid eyes on the man who would challenge everything she'd ever known and cause her to question everything she always thought she wanted.

See, for months, the Revanites had been playing the Empire and Republic out against each other. Betrayals from the inside had led to the destruction of both the Sith Academy and the Jedi Temple and brought the warring sides to neutral planet of Manaan, to their corrupt Commanders.

Along with Theron and Corso, she'd followed Colonel Darok into an underground facility hoping to bring him to justice but he'd disappeared along with his Sith accomplice. A minor bump in her attempt to foil the Revanites' plans but once back on the surface, a new opportunity had presented itself.

While she'd been fighting warriors and scientists, Theron had gone to meet with an ally. Another Sith—Lana Beniko—working the same mission as they were only on behalf of the Empire and who'd brought along assistance of her own. Two men. The first, a Pureblood Sith who'd observed her with a devious glint in his eyes but she'd hardly noticed him—her sole focus drawn to the man standing behind him.

A man who was everything she was not—the extreme opposite, in fact. A well-trained and disciplined soldier who rarely spoke out of turn and possessed a keen mind when it came to strategy. A man quite a bit older and who, no doubt, saw no more in her than a lowly street urchin and a Republic nuisance but that didn't stop her heart from racing beyond control when she first looked into his clear blue eyes.

Damn those eyes. She fell for him on the spot without knowing his name or even hearing his voice but then he did speak, parting those perfectly shaped lips and he turned her world upside down.

“Captain Malavai Quinn,” he offered his name and rank.

Oh, she would kiss those lips, one way or another. The hardest task she would ever face because Malavai Quinn was a closed book and kept to himself beyond professional courtesy—even toward his Lord. So she employed one of the oldest tricks know to mankind and got herself injured.

Over the course of weeks, she'd come to see he was quite the gentleman and a skilled medic, and she knew she could handle more than just a few bruises. Why not use that to land herself in the medbay and under his care?

The pain of the blaster bolt that seared in her hip was worth every second she got to stare into his eyes and delight in his Imperial accent while he reprimanded her for her callousness.

“It is a surprise you've come this far, Voidhound,” he told her in a disapproving fashion after he observed the years worth of scars she'd accumulated all over her body.

Damn. He could scold her for days and likely talk her into an org.asm by doing so.

“Jenna. Just Jenna,” she corrected him on her name for the hundredth time and finally, he accepted.

He spent far more time than necessary tending to her and her injury and to her delight, he opened up at last. Telling her all about his career as an Imperial officer and through sharing his past, they discovered they'd both been on Balmorra at the same time years prior. If only she'd met him then rather than followed the Twi'lek Brock to further regrets.

Weeks passed and the Revanites were sent packing from Rishi to meet their demise on Yavin Four, and all the while she got closer to the Captain who'd stolen her heart but that one perfect kiss never came. The kiss she needed more than anything to know that for once, life had led her in the right direction and all that she felt was right.

“I must take my leave of you now, Jenna. My Lord wishes to return to Dromund Kaas as soon as possible now that the Sith Emperor has risen,” Malavai informed her after they'd battled and defeated Revan.

Words that crushed her heart and robbed her of any and all hopes until Malavai did the unexpected.

First, he gently brushed a lock of ginger hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear before taking a handful of her thick curls. Gazing into her light green eyes full of adoration, for longer than any man before, and leaving her to feel she was the only woman in existence. Just the two of them on the fourth moon of Yavin.

Then, with his other hand, he brushed the back of his fingers down her cheek. Taking his time to commit every detail about her to memory and he let his thumb caress her bottom lip, forcing a small pout. With every touch, he captivated her entirely and in her mind, she was begging for his kiss.

“Say the words, Jenna,” he commanded in such a deep whisper it left her knees buckling.

“Kiss me.”

But he didn't and instead, his eyes turned a few shades darker while his gaze intensified. “Kiss me...?”

“Please. Kiss me please.”

A grin spread across his face as her first introduction to his darker side, and an aching need ignited in her core.

“Good girl,” he half groaned less than an inch from her lips.

Malavai tipped her chin up and let his mouth draw near but it wasn't until he felt her trembling with need in his grasp that he finally gave her what she craved. Brushing his lips upon hers ever so lightly, to savor and to tease for as long as he could manage, but his own hunger peaked. He pulled her body flush against his own and crushed his mouth onto hers. Teasing her with small nips and bites to demand she part her lips and surrender entirely.

Quite an easy task because she melted in his arms and under his touch, feeling her arousal stirred in a way she'd never experienced before. Her heart alight with feelings she'd never believed herself capable of and with just one kiss, he cast the one name that had haunted her for years, out to replace it with his own.

Malavai Quinn.

The unexpected and impossible love she'd never thought to find and sure, they'd have to navigate troubled waters for a future together but he was worth it. A lifetime of terrible kisses and wrong men had been worth it because her search had led to him—the one—and she imagined kissing him again in the rain on Dromund Kaas.

And so did he now that he'd finally found the one he'd believed would elude him for a lifetime.

Bin Prime, Balmorra

The building across the street shattered under the force of Imperial artillery. Dax Rikynn recoiled further into his hiding place, clutching his father as tightly as he could. The elder Rikynn placed a reassuring hand on the young Cathar’s shoulder, and the two looked across to a wall that had crumbled in half, forming a tent-like structure. There was only space for the two of them, so Dax’s mother had found another hiding spot, beneath that wall.

The roar of the battle outside was disrupted by dissonant cackling. Dax peered out to see a skinny Sith Pureblood prancing through the rubble-street, followed by a few confused-looking Imperial troopers.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” the Sith exclaimed at the top of his lungs.

The troopers nodded quickly and mumbled their agreement, clearly not entirely certain what the Sith was talking about. Seeming to pick up on their lack of comprehension, the Sith turned to addres them.

“How often do you get to see a city on fire?” he said with a laugh, “Now, I want to kill something. Find me a victim if you don’t want it to be you!”

The troopers looked around in panic and began to fan out. Most of them ran off towards some of the more intact sections of the city, but two began to approach the building where Dax and his family were hidden.

One trooper put her hand on the other’s shoulder.

“They shelled that one just an hour ago,” she said, “No one could’ve survived.”

The other shook his head.

“No, but they might’ve gone in there since. We’ll look stupid there is somebody in there.”

The first shrugged.

“Alright, but let’s make it quick.”

The two began to approach the collapsed wall where Dax’s mother was hidden. He felt his father’s grip tighten. If they didn’t do something, they’d find her. Dax’s father must’ve noticed him stirring and clasped his hand over Dax’s mouth.

Dax, however, was determined. He shook his head free and coughed noisily. He heard his father’s sharp intake of breath.

“Did you hear that?”

“It came from that closet!”

In an instant, the Sith was next to the troopers.

“Oh, you found someone already!” he cried happily, “Excellent!”

As the Sith approached the hiding spot, Dax shut his eyes as tight as he could and hoped for a way out.

The Sith’s footsteps echoed as they came closer.

Suddenly, the doors were thrown open by some invisible Force.

Dax’s father lunged at the Sith. The man raised a hand, and an arc of crackling electricity flew out, catching Dax’s father and forcing him to his knees.

“And a kiddie, too!” said the Sith, “My master will be quite pleased.”

The explosions from the artillery thundered, audible even from miles away.

The next explosion was smaller, but much closer.

The Sith was hurled across the room and tumbled into the wall.

The new arrivals were led by a huge, muscular man in white and red armor, who was carrying what could only be described as a cannon in his hands. Several more in the same equipment followed him, gunning down the two troopers.

“Your master will have to be disappointed,” said the large man in a deep, booming voice.

The Sith struggled to his feet and ignited his lightsaber.

“You can discuss it when we send him to meet you,” the man finished, unleashing a rapid-fire burst from his cannon.

The Sith was too slow to deflect the shots and was cut down. Dax tugged at his father’s shirt and gestured to the cannon.

“Papa, I want one.”

The man turned to face Dax, who noted the circled arrowhead insignia on his armor.

“I think it might be a little heavy for you, son,” the man said, “but maybe someday. Lieutenant, get them out of here.”

Dax’s father looked into where the man’s eyes must’ve been under his helmet and spoke.

“Thank you,” he said in his rusty Basic (Dax’s mother was the native speaker).

“Just doing my duty, sir,” said the big soldier before he and most of the troopers ran off back into the fray.

The last, presumably the lieutenant the other man had addressed, knelt down in front of Dax.

“We’re going to have to move fast,” he said, “Can you do that for me, little one?”

Dax nodded.

“Good. I’ll need you to be strong for me.”

“My wife is over there,” said Dax’s father.

The three looked over to the crumbled wall, where Dax’s mother was emerging, looking somewhat shaky.

“Are they gone?” she asked.

“They won’t be for long,” said the Lieutenant, “I can get you to a landing pad outside the city, but we’ve got to run. Are any of you injured?”

“I’m fine,” said Dax’s mother, “Genn, Dax, can you make it?”

Dax’s father nodded.

The mad dash through the city seemed to happen in an instant. Explosions erupted around them like fireworks as they ducked through the showers of rubble. As they approached the gate of the city, the Lieutenant halted in his tracks and waved the family into cover. Ahead there were six Imperial troopers clustered around a heavy assault droid.

The Lieutenant pulled a grenade from his belt and hurled it. The troopers scattered for cover, but the droid was not so lucky, one of its three legs blasted out from under it. As the droid was about to adjust its aim, the Lieutenant shot it through the optical receptors. The troopers began to regroup but the Lieutenant had closed the distance, clubbing one of them in the face with his rifle. He pulled a knife from his belt and jammed it into another’s throat before jumping back into cover as the troopers returned fire.

Popping up from cover, the Lieutenant launched a cable from his gun which grabbed hold of another trooper and pulled him back towards the Lieutenant. The man started to get up, but the Lieutenant shot him through the head. The remaining three troopers, realizing how outmatched they were, started to fall back to the city gate, but the Lieutenant shot another one down, sending the last two into a full retreat.

The Lieutenant ran back to the Rikynns.

“I can’t take you any further than this. About a kilo to the east you’ll find a shuttle to the evac zone. The Imperial troops haven’t moved into that area yet, so if you move fast, you should be able to make it.”

“Where are you going, Lieutenant?” asked Dax’s mother.

“My squad needs me,” he said, “Besides, we were supposed to ship off this planet a month ago. We’re spread thin doing what we can while we’re here.”

As they parted ways, Dax overheard the leader of the squad speaking the Lieutenant over the holo.

“The Imps are landing more troops by the spaceport, and they’re dug in deep. We’re going to have pull out soon. Get over here, Lieutenant Tavus.”

-

Yeah, this was going to mirror Pholux’s backstory more closely (essentially, Rikynn and Pholux were in about the same situation at about the same time, but Rikynn and his family got away while Pholux wasn't so lucky), but then I thought of having it be Jace Malcom and Havoc Squad specifically who save them, and then I thought of that twist at the end, and I couldn’t resist.

It's nice to see some Arcann love here, haven't caught him in fiction too often yet! I liked reading how your Nyx became utterly restless and frustrated bed bound, I can relate, so why not take on the former Emperor of Zakuul?

Lovely look at Nyx in her time before joining the Sith Academy, in the Turning Point prompt, and what an unusual background. I liked how you worked in the Rattaki's infamous tattoos as a coming off age ritual.

Your Knight's recollection of her run-in with Saresh as a child left my blood boiling. I have never liked Saresh. Thought the scene was done with flashbacks to the past as she prepares to be an Honor Guard.

Dark times to be recalled and recorded for your Smuggler Zeran but it was a nice read. Especially that last line.

Some wise words for Pansey from her reflection but will it be enough to shatter her illusions and naivety? Seems she's surviving for now at least.

Seems Pansey's naivety led her to quite some heartbreak, in Kissing Frogs, but it brought her Gus in the end. Never seen Quinn written in such a different light but it worked for your story, how cruel he was.

Not a fan of Torian normally and all the Mando stuff goes over my head but your Tired/Vacation prompt was a lovely read of quieter times in a Bounty Hunter's life. Love that Calline is Chiss, seems unusual for a BH and therefore a great choice.

Loved how Larr insisted on seizing her chance with Attrius. Perhaps it didn't quite work out but hey, she tried, and I'm sure he won't soon forget. Ahh, Jedi and their attachment babble...

I loved Thrallin's story, what a wonderful setup for both the Warrior and the Inquisitor! It really rather reminded me of the old gladiators and I think it's a great use of the freedom we have with our character's background story prior to the Academies/first jobs.

I enjoyed Jaks' story as well, did he meet your Trooper there? For a moment I thought the Cathar would be Jorgan. Seems like the beginning of a beautiful friendship indeed. Nice work weaving those two together.

Loved the look at Thrakkis' past during the Great Galactic war! A thoroughly captivating piece for such a horrific moment in time, at least for those at the Sith and Mandalorian's mercy. Bright kid though, Pholux is, with a future as an Agent perhaps? Seems he's halfway there already between the false name and his sharp aim. [edit; Just saw your A/N for that prompt, lol, yes you let us glimpse his future well]

I really enjoy your writing. Your piece for Ja-mags and Master Drenn was another beauty and I enjoyed the relationship between them. Some nice humor there as well about his shirt and impressing Sith girls.

I really kind of love Jaks. Hearing him tell the story during the Turning Point prompt was quite enjoyable and had me chuckling. His story just gets better and better as he goes on, and I love Daal's comments to everything that comes out of his mouth. Ahh, the hero who wasn't to hear nothing about heroics or being a hero. Enjoyed seeing Thrakkis again as well, another wonderful piece.

My, Rikynn's backstory is as harrowing as Pholux's except with a better turn of events and a nice introduction to Havoc Squad he no doubt looks up to now and what'll become his future goal. For a while I did expect it to be Jace Malcom who came to their aid but what a surprising twist in the end--Tavus! Also wanna note I absolutely love your portrayal of the Sith that have appeared in all your prompts thus far.

Mmm, I agree, never enough good Quinn stories. Glad you liked it. Originally I'd had the thought to land on Theron but he felt like a far too obvious choice so, surprise! Smexy Quinn! Thank you. ♥

As soon as it shut behind her, the door slid open again. “What did you just bring into the house this time?” Mom asked.

Sellest, without rising from her knees, shifted to one side so Mom could see the small feathered creature twitching pathetically. “It's a Lesser Crested Flutterplume, must be someone's pet – see, the ID ring around its foot?”

“Hmm,” replied Mom, in that voice mothers use when they're trying not to sound harsh. “Pretty. It looks hurt.”

“Yeah, Mom, that's why I brought it home. It's wing is broken, must have hit a speeder or something. I think I can fix it.” The girl stroked the little bird gently, and it seemed to calm down. “I'm pretty sure I can...” Her voice drifted off as her hand hovered over the animal.

Mom sighed, still not moving from the doorway. “Sellest, you're not a veterinarian, you can't just 'fix' a broken...” Mom's voice faltered as a soft golden light began to grow around Sellest's hand, then to the brightly-colored wing that stretched out at an unnatural angle. “You...what is...” Mom gave a little gasp and fell silent. Sellest, her eyes shut, made no response or movement. The wing began to straighten, and the flutterplume gave a low croak, rising to its feet and cautiously flexing the wing. When the animal began to hop around, Sellest drew a deep breath and sat back with a wide smile. She turned to Mom, “See? All better!”

The look on her mother's face wiped the smile from her face. Rather than the happy glow Sellest felt at the restoration of a suffering creature, Mom's eyes were wide with surprise – or was it fear? Suddenly the girl felt embarrassed, as if Mom had caught her doing something bad. “Um, I'm sorry, I was just helping...”

Mom blinked quickly. “No, no, it's fine, dear, it's fine. Come here, Sellie.” She held Sellest very tightly for a long moment. When she finally let go, there were tears in her eyes. “Mommy needs to call someone now. And, um, see if you can find out whose pet that is and get it back to them.” Mom stood up and took a shaky breath. Seeing the look on her daughter's face, she stammered, “You've done nothing – nothing wrong, dear. I just – I need to make a call.” She stepped out to the corridor, and as the door slid shut, she called out, “I love you, dear, never forget that.”

Sellest frowned, wondering why her mother was upset. She'd brought home hurt animals before, fed them and treated them as best she could. It's just, this time was different: instead of food water, and simple first aid cream, she felt like she could actually heal them just by wanting to. And it really happened! It felt so warm and happy on the inside, and even the little croaking flutterplume seemed happy. She reached out her hand to it and it responded by showing her the ring on its claw. She read the ident code and moved to her datapad to punch it in to see who it belonged to. She wondered if the owner would be happy, or kind of upset like Mom.

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“I don't like it.” Her father's voice had risen, in that way adults do when they're trying not to yell. Sellest froze in the corridor, hands full of the dirty dishes they'd told her to pick up from her room – it was well after her bedtime, and they seemed to have forgotten about it, but she was still up, and she figured better late than never. “I mean, it's amazing, but isn't there some other way? Someone else who can train her?”

Mom replied, her voice calmer than Dad's but still tense. “The Jedi who was here today told me she has great potential. You should have seen it, she just waved her hand and the broken wing mended itself. Nobody can do that but the Jedi. They know best how to handle a gift like that.”

A deep sigh from Dad followed by the heavy rhythm of his fingers tapping. Sellest crept slowly and silently closer. She'd talked to the brown-robed Jedi Knight, and he seemed nice but was so full of questions! Little brother Dzok, seven-year-old that he was, had been all over him, wanting to touch his lightsaber and ask him questions about the war, but the man had brushed him off gently yet firmly.

“You realize we might never see her again? You want to say goodbye to your own daughter?”

Mom let out a gasp of frustration. “Of course not! But it's not about me. Or you. It's what's best for her! Antwan, she could be a Jedi! She's smart, strong, and you know she's had a way with plants and animals since she was a toddler...”

Sellest clapped her hand over her mouth so they wouldn't hear her gasp. Me, a Jedi? Is that what this is about? Dzok would be the one to be a Jedi, he's always watching the war holos and making pretend lightsabers and blasters...

“Which is why we've been saving up! It's almost time for Mari to go off to college, and if Sellest is headed for medical school, that's a lot of credits we'll be putting out. But at least we'll be able to see her. The Jedi don't let younglings even visit their families.”

“But there's a war on! Your own cousin Zeran is out there, risking his life to protect us. We have a duty, and if our daughter has the Force, how can we turn our back on that?” Mom sounded like she was still trying to convince herself as much as her husband. Sellest's mind was still spinning over the idea of being a Jedi. She had no interest in slicing people with a lightsaber or fighting the war. She risked a very slow, careful peek around the corner.

Dad was shaking his head, his hands writhing on the table. “I don't want my daughter to be a killer. Or a soldier. I don't want to lose her that way.”

Mom was leaning against the wall, arms folded. “The Jedi said they would train her as a Healer first, just the way she's already started. He said the lightsaber stuff is more about self-discipline and focus, they wouldn't force anyone to fight.” She balled her fists, but kept them tucked under her arms. “I for one would be proud to have a Jedi Healer for a daughter.”

Dad sighed heavily. “I suppose it's inevitable. I don't know how medical school would deal with Force abilities anyway, that's the Jedi's thing. We can talk to her in the morning, get her ready.” He raised his tear-filled eyes to meet his wife's gaze. “But if she doesn't want to go, we won't make her. Is that clear?” She nodded, then reached for a tissue and began to cry in earnest.

Sellest ran back to her room and dropped the dishes carelessly on her desk. She looked around at her collection of house plants, a dozen pots of lush green growth, but even they seemed joyless and gave no comfort. She plunked herself down on the bed, her head still a cloud of confusion and surprise. A Jedi!? Me? Reaching for her favorite stuffed manka cat, she clutched it to her chest, wondering what would happen tomorrow.

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Her manka cat, clamped under her arm as she climbed aboard the transport, was one of the few things she was able to take with her. Mom and Dad promised to take care of her plants; she'd written out detailed instructions on how often and how much to feed and water each one of them. Little brother Dzok waved frantically, having extracted a promise that when she got a lightsaber she would come visit and let him hold it and even turn it on. Big sister Mari stood quietly by, saying a fond farewell but little else. The padawan helping her aboard was young, about the same age as Dzok, with the little braid falling down the side of his head. She settled in her seat while the padawan secured her small suitcase and backpack.

The adult Jedi was saying a few last words to Mom and Dad. Mom was openly crying; Dad was red-eyed but holding himself together in the presence of the Knight. The Jedi bowed and strode toward the speeder. Sellest waved and forced a smile onto her face, though she felt her own tears welling up.

She kept her eyes on her family for as long as she could; she waved and they waved, until they were lost in the distance among the crowds and traffic. She looked up at the Knight driving the speeder when he spoke. “I was meditating on this last night, and I feel I need to give you a new name, to reflect your new life.” His eyes rested on her briefly, with a look of kindness. “From now on you will be called Photin. It's from an obscure language, a name that mean 'light.' What do you think of that, a special Jedi name for a special new Jedi?”

Sellest flashed a smile at him and shrugged. “Sounds okay.” She didn't want to listen to the little voice from somewhere deep inside that told her she'd never see her parents again.

(Fade: Trooper)

“Any scams in the making?”

Tanno Vik looked up from his imported and definitely non-regulation soup. “Captain, I am shocked and offended that you would allege that any of my extracurricular transactions might be characterized as scams.”

“So, any?”

“Dorne figured out I was skimming off the requisitions. Strangely, no consequences happened.”

“Hm. I must’ve missed that signature.”

“Fade, you are a woman after my own heart.”

“You, heart. Funny guy.”

“Is there nothing you won’t stoop to to make your life more comfortable?”

“I won’t cross her without plausible deniability.” Fade cheerfully showed her teeth. “Remember that.”

*

(Wynston: Imperial Agent)

“Vector,” said Wynston.

“Yes?”

“I was something of an unbalanced killing machine for three of the first five months of our acquaintance.”

“You were under duress.”

“You didn’t have to be my friend.”

“Even your bitterness was directed toward enemies of the Empire.”

“Is that the only qualification? Plenty of monsters fight enemies of the Empire.”

“Your concept of a monster has always intrigued us. Particularly your capacity for not becoming one.”

Excessively generous, but kind. “You’re a good man. Particularly your capacity for remaining one.”

“Then it’s fortunate we work together.”

Wynston clinked glasses. “I’ll drink to that.”

*

(Jora Mei: Sith Inquisitor)

Jora Mei stood silhouetted in the viewport. Her stance was as rigid as her sable updo.

She spoke. “They have names for me, Lieutenant. Some more polite than others. While you serve me, I am Lord Mei. You may address me as ‘my lord.’ I expect your respect, your loyalty, and your immediate obedience in all situations. If you earn my punishment you’ll get it once. Otherwise, in return, serving me will be the greatest honor of your career. Do you understand?”

“Clearly, my lord.” Talos Drellik cleared his throat. “I was going to ask where the refresher is.”

*

(Calline: Bounty Hunter)

“And there’s one bounty for a guy whose wife is cheating. He wants us to tail her and capture her boyfriend.”

Calline eyed Mako. “Really?”

“Hey, we would’ve taken this job two years ago.”

“We’re not desperate anymore.”

“I do like the sound of that. Hey, what about this guy who had a Gen’Dai cult start squatting on his property? They say they’re impossible to kill.”

“Hmm.”

“And I’m already regretting recommending that, aren’t I.”

Calline grinned. “I’ll call Torian.”

*

(Vette: Smuggler)

The negotiation was not going well. This was particularly notable because the Hutt had Vette’s ship locked in hangar, and her holo was being jammed.

“So, what can you offer that would be more valuable to my master the Hutt than just impounding your vessel?”

Time to ease off the “nice person” control. “Your body’s structural integrity?”

The Arcona blinked. “What?”

“Bowdaar? Rip his arms off.”

“I hate ripping people’s arms off,” opined Bowdaar.

“Ah, a civilized monster,” the Arcona said smugly. “Yes, I speak Shyriiwook.”

“That doesn’t mean I won’t do it,” added Bowdaar, flexing.

“Consider your ship freed.”

*

(Larr Gith: Jedi Knight)

Wynston pointed. “If you take the upper path we can save maybe ten percent–”

“No.”

“If you take the upper path and I cover the lower escape we can probably get twenty-five–”

“Nope.”

Wynston eyed Larr Gith more or less patiently. “Fifty-fifty if we bring in the excavator.”

“Unacceptable.”

“Fine. If I go out personally and succeed in activating their train, which is a titanic if, while you make a distraction and shepherd people along topside…we might be able to save them all.”

“I knew you had it in you, Imp.” The Jedi Human’s eyes sparkled. “Let’s go.”

*

(Tebbith: Jedi Consular)

“Forward to bibliography,” murmured Tebbith, tapping the controls of the console linked into the glowing holocron.

“Error,” printed the console. “No bibliography found.”

“Index of tables.”

“No index of tables found.”

“List of references.”

“No list of references found.”

Tebbith scratched his horns and stared. “This is unbelievable.” He plucked the holocron out of its stand and carried it off to the library’s closet of shame. It would have to be manually indexed when he or a student had the time.

Nary a citation. Barbaric. And people didn’t think library science was exciting.

*

(Ruth Niral: Sith Warrior)

The officer was pointing at Major Jorgan. “Commander, if they’d left the civilians, who weren’t even supposed to be there, behind, they could have gotten out without casualties on our people.”

“Thirty civilians,” said Jorgan. “Davins died doing something for someone. He wanted that.”

Ruth listened.

Jorgan pressed on. “Commander, we’re not the kind of people who give up on innocents. I was not going to sacrifice them to cover our escape.”

“You did the right thing,” said Ruth.

“I said I–ma’am?”

“You did the right thing. Thank you.”

“Huh.” He subsided. “Ma’am.”

“I’ll notify Davins’ next of kin.”

@JennyFlynn: Glad you liked it all! The interactions between Jaks and Daal were something I mostly wrote to fill up page space, but they turned out really well and made me want to write a prequel story for my Smuggler. Thrakkis is involved in something else I have planned, but this may be the last use out of him I get for a while. As for Rikynn, I could have stood to make something more clear: Jace Malcom was there too; he was the big guy with the cannon who shot the Sith, while Tavus was the lieutenant who escorted them out of Sobrik. That was Havoc Squad, of which (as far as I can tell from Wookieepedia) both Malcom and Tavus were members towards the end of the Great Galactic War.

@MishaCantu: Thanks! I was so happy with myself when I came up with that twist.

@Lord_Thorne: That was a fantastic look at how being recruited into the Jedi looks from the youngling’s perspective. The name-change strikes me as more of a Sith tradition, though. Is there a reason for that?

As a sidenote, the logic behind Photin’s name reminds me of how Pholux’s name was chosen (out-of-universe, in this case) on sort of the same logic. I was trying to convert my characters from being more personal avatars to being separate characters (the biggest remaining artifact of that is the fact that most of them are male – my secondary legacy is an even split and even on the primary one there are actually sixteen characters to satisfy my obsessive need for symmetry), and I scrambled to find a more fitting name for my Agent than Bond’jamesbond (yes, really). First I was thinking “Spy, therefore shadow, which is Umbra in Latin, so I’ll call him Umbrandis.” The name didn’t suit him at all, so, since he was lightside, I went the opposite direction and called him Pholux, which basically means “light-light.” Not exactly my most clever naming job, but I refuse to change it again. Most of my characters’ names have similarly embarrassing backstories (except Rikynn – there I just got lucky with the random generator).

@bright_ephemera: I’m glad I managed to make Thrakkis scary. I did slightly rip off Darth Malgus with how he keeps getting more and more injured and coming back just as mean. I wanted to bring out a certain slasher movie villain kind of quality, but also show that he’s more human than he lets on with his more personal relationship to Thralinn and Pholux. As for the drabbles, I like them, though it’s a little hard to tell who’s talking on some of them.

Iziz, Onderon

With a splash, Jor Ductavin plopped the heavy wooden box down into the mud as his friends crowded around.

<What did you get, Ducky?> said Deeno, the Rodian looking curiously over Jor’s shoulder.

“And can we sell it?” added Te’la, sitting up from her perch behind the disabled power droid and brushing her lekku behind her shoulders..

“I don’t know…” said Jor, “But it looked interesting.”

He pulled one of the cracked stone tablets out of the box, looking at it for a moment before Durik snatched it out of his hands.

“It looks like it’s got some old writing on it!” said the Zabrak excitedly, “Maybe it’s in Sith or Mando’a or something.”

“You can’t even read Basic” Te’la joked.

Jor placed a hand on the tablet.

“Could I have it back?”

After a moment, Durik let go of it.

“You’re not wrong,” Jor said, “I think it is Sith. I saw a lot like these down there.”

<Down where?> Deeno asked, <Were you messing around with those old Naddist ruins again?>

“And what does it say?” Durik pressed.

“Don’t worry,” Jor said to Deeno, “That place is completely safe, as long as you stay out of the Terentatek chamber.”

<The what now?> Deeno said.

Jor decided to focus on answering Durik’s question. He focused on the tablet, trying to remember the translation scrolls he’d found the previous year. They were still hidden underneath a dumpster three alleys down, but he was getting better at translating things without looking at them.

“It says… ‘Peace is a lie-’”

“Wait, so what does that mean?” Te’la interrupted, “We’re all secretly beating each other up when we think we aren’t?”

“I haven’t even finished the first sentence!” Jor complained.

<You shouldn’t read that out loud,> Deeno said, <It might be some kind of Sith spell.>

“That’s not how the Force works,” Jor said, “Now can I please just read it?”

When no one said anything, he continued.

“‘There is only passion. Through passion-’”

“Are you sure this is a Naddist artifact and not somebody’s private stash of-” Te’la interjected again.

“If it is, then definitely keep reading,” said Durik.

Jor bit his lip while they were talking before continuing to read.

“‘… I gain strength. Through strength, I gain power-’”

“Maybe it’s some kind of Naddist workout routine!” said Durik.

“‘Through power, I gain victory.’”

“Well, duh,” said Te’la, “That’s kind of the point of power, right?”

“I don’t know,” said Jor, “There’s more to being powerful than winning fights.”

“If I had lots of powers I’d kill a bunch of drexl and ruping and I’d eat dinner every day,” Durik added.

“‘Through victory, my chains are broken,’” Jor continued over the discussion

<Maybe it’s like a self-help holo?> Deeno offered.

“‘The Force will free me,’” Jor finished.

“Oh,” said Durik, “It’s self-help for Jedi.”

“Written in Sith?” Te’la said.

<I’ve seen weirder things,> said Deeno, <Like this one Huttese manual on->

“Yeah, you showed me that one,” she interrupted him.

“Why’d you bring these back, anyway?” asked Durik, “I don’t think they’ll sell for much.”

“I just thought they were interesting,” said Jor.

“Yeah, your interest probably just cost us our next meal if we can’t get somebody to buy these,” said Te’la.

“I have a thought about that,” said Jor.

Within minutes, the four had moved from the grimy alleyway onto a busy thoroughfare, with their small collection of boxes arranged into an impromptu stall. As the masses of people bustled past, Jor cried out to them.

“Authentic Onderon artifacts! Rare ancient tablets! Three credits apiece.”

Fifteen minutes later, no one had approached the stall.

“This is not looking good,” Te’la said exasperatedly.

“Give me just a little more time,” Jor said, going back to his pitch.

This time, someone paid attention. The cloaked figure deftly made his way through the crowd, appearing in front of the stall and dropping his brown hood to reveal wizened features, with a simple bandage wrapped over his eyes.

“Hello there, little ones,” said the Jedi, “What have we here?”

-

Jor is my Consular, by the way. He’s actually named Duct-tape in-game, because while I’ve gone lore-friendly on most of my character names, having “Duct-tape, Mender of the Rift” is just too perfect to lose.

Oh, and all these characters are around twelve years old or so.

@JennyFlynn : Ahahah, that description of Corso’s kiss is terrible ! I never started that romance so I do not know if it is the feeling you get IG but your description is brilliant. I like the other parts of the story too, I never read anything of the like so far.

And thanks for your comments. I can spread as much Arcann love as you want, but apparently I have my own vision of the character. I have read quite a lot of romances including Arcann so far (yep, there are actually a substantial quantity on AO3 and quite a lot largely focused on smut…) and I really don’t have the same vision or how he might be.

I don’t think that Nyx’s background is so unusual, the Rattataki history makes them perfect candidates for being slaves so it is nice to play with this opportunity.

@Lord_Thorn: Aw, simple but sad. Separation is always a hard moment and often rather underestimated, especially on the parents’ side.

@bright: Some made me smile, some others I am afraid I don’t fully catch, sorry.

@Jamags: Oh, the Sith Code… Definitely something my Nyx still clings to in her own way. Three credits might be a good deal for anyone who wants to buy it.