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Oh noes I almost forgot! Here is a new prompt.

 

Week of 9/5/12

Goals and Ambitions - Everybody has something they dream of, something they're working for in the future. For a lot of our characters it's a defining part of who they are. But if things were different, would their goals change? Who would they want to be?

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Oh noes I almost forgot! Here is a new prompt.

 

Week of 9/5/12

Goals and Ambitions - Everybody has something they dream of, something they're working for in the future. For a lot of our characters it's a defining part of who they are. But if things were different, would their goals change? Who would they want to be?

 

Yay you're the best! And this fits with something I was thinking about so I might actually have an idea :D

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Week of 9/5/12

Goals and Ambitions - Everybody has something they dream of, something they're working for in the future. For a lot of our characters it's a defining part of who they are. But if things were different, would their goals change? Who would they want to be?

 

Oo! Good one!

 

Gah I wish I were more prolific. Or had more free time.

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The Sword of Mercy: Goals and Ambitions 2, an alternate reality for Sith Warrior Ruth along with Agent Wynston and Jedi Master Rho. Today's entry is 1200 words. Significant spoiler elements are taken from SW Act 3 and IA Act 2 to set up this reality...

[Too creepy.]

Edited by bright_ephemera
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I'm not sure what to spoiler tag and what to not, so...

 

The intersection of Scourge with this Voss emperor-related plotline is extremely satisfying.

Also, the version of Quinn in this universe is incredibly creepy and makes me watch to punch him a lot.

 

Edited by Estelindis
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Remi AU: Knightless Goals and Ambitions

Set immediately after Loyalty and Betrayal Part 3 (JK spoilers)

 

 

“You could have told them about your abilities and our agreement,” Lord Scourge observed. Coremi could not imagine how anything that large could move so silently. She would have jumped to her feet but she could barely move her legs.

 

“Hello Sith,” She replied dully, “How long have you been standing there?”

 

“Long enough,” he looked at the comm device in her hands, “Were you afraid they would reject you if they discovered your true nature?”

 

The corner of her mouth twitched, “Most people do.”

 

“You should not have run,” he admonished, “We have a deal, you do not break a promise to a lord of the Sith and survive.”

 

She shrugged sullenly and pointed at her legs, “Can’t run now.”

 

A long silence stretched between them. He sat beside her and looked at the coordinates.

 

“It will be difficult to get there, we will need to obtain specialized equipment.” She made a face and started to say something sarcastic but stopped. She looked at him appraisingly.

 

“This is you trying isn’t it?” She waved her hand at him vaguely.

 

He considered the question, and decided he was trying. He needed her to cooperate, she had no desire for power or to become Sith beyond her wish to free her homeworld, therefore the usual Master-Apprentice dynamic was not going to work, she would simply run away again. He needed her to trust him then he could tell her about her destiny.

 

He acknowledged her question with a nod. “What will you do now?”

 

She shrugged, “This changes nothing, I’m kicking your friends off this planet.”

 

Scourge did not bother to voice his contempt, Balmorra was not as important as she, the Republic, or the Empire thought, but if that was the key to winning her aid he would help her. “And after that?”

 

She looked him in the eye and raised her chin, “We made a deal.” Then she made a wry face, “Though I suppose I should have asked what the greater enemy was.”

 

“Why didn’t you?”

 

“I don’t expect to survive the training or the retaking of Balmorra.” She eyed Scourge, “Will you tell me who we’re going to fight?”

 

He shook his head, “Until I am certain of your power it is better that you do not know.”

 

“Don’t trust me huh.” She grinned at the irony.

 

“Do you trust me?”

 

“What if I said yes?” She replied archly.

 

“Will you tell me of your nightmares?” He asked. The mention of the dreams that terrorized her nightly wiped the smile from her face. She looked away. He nodded, “We will have to learn to trust each other.”

 

She snorted and faced him again but her eyes were still haunted, “A rogue and a Sith. We have our work cut out for us.”

 

He stood and extended his hand. She stared at it for a long moment then took it, letting him pull her to her feet. He sensed the pain screaming through her body, but she gave no outward sign of weakness. He let her feel his approval and bowed over her hand. “Then let us begin.”

 

 

 

Edited by kabeone
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Remi AU: Knightless Goals and Ambitions

 

He needed her to trust him then he could tell her about her destiny.

 

Remi! (err, Coremi.) Yeah, if she isn't a prophesied Jedi, I can really see Scourge having to say "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

 

 

I'm not sure what to spoiler tag and what to not, so...

 

The intersection of Scourge with this Voss emperor-related plotline is extremely satisfying.

Also, the version of Quinn in this universe is incredibly creepy and makes me watch to punch him a lot.

 

Re: Scourge:

I'm honestly not sure whether he was aware of the nature of the Voice vs. true form. But now that he knows, I could see him guarding the Dark Heart and beating the living daylights out of anything that tried to remove Sel'Makor until he could be certain that more permanent anti-Voice measures could be put in place.

 

 

Re: Quinn:

Yup. Creepy. The dominant implication of "What if Ruth were stuck with the Castellan restraints?" is "What if Quinn were monster enough to go through with it?"

 

The forums spend a lot of time trying to justify him, to make him sympathetic, lovable, redeemable. Sure, I put in my time doing that. Now I'm uncomfortable yet curious: what if the cold hard edges we see in game aren't a mask, or a lovable quirkfest, or a shell hiding a gooey warm interior? What if he is, at heart, the man who assaults and threatens the life of underlings who disappoint him; who only expresses excitement when there's a kill or a strategic offensive to be made; who protests loyalty as volubly as the lady in Hamlet's conscience-catching play, yet unblinkingly betrays and savages any master who, in his eyes, fails to live up to his cause (Broysc, the Warrior, Baras); who drags a politically tricky vendetta under the nose of his powerful friendly Sith sponsor and gets documentable permission to land the killing blow so he has full protection from the consequences of the murder? What if he's still the diehard Imperial who fully comprehends Sith politics and is obsessed with maintaining appearances, but that's the list of his most, not least, sympathetic qualities? What if the life-changing thing that gets him off Balmorra isn't an affectionate master but rather one overwhelmingly corrupting dose of power?

 

And then it gets all icky. :(

 

 

Oh, and, just because it wandered across my Internet feed recently, have a thread-relevant quote from Charles Dickens' Great Expectations:

 

"That was a memorable day to me, for it made great changes in me. But, it is the same with any life. Imagine one selected day struck out of it, and think how different its course would have been. Pause you who read this, and think for a moment of the long chain of iron or gold, of thorns or flowers, that would never have bound you, but for the formation of the first link on one memorable day."

Edited by bright_ephemera
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Re: Quinn:

Yup. Creepy. The dominant implication of "What if Ruth were stuck with the Castellan restraints?" is "What if Quinn were monster enough to go through with it?"

 

The forums spend a lot of time trying to justify him, to make him sympathetic, lovable, redeemable. Sure, I put in my time doing that. Now I'm uncomfortable yet curious: what if the cold hard edges we see in game aren't a mask, or a lovable quirkfest, or a shell hiding a gooey warm interior? What if he is, at heart, the man who assaults and threatens the life of underlings who disappoint him; who only expresses excitement when there's a kill or a strategic offensive to be made; who protests loyalty as volubly as the lady in Hamlet's conscience-catching play, yet unblinkingly betrays and savages any master who, in his eyes, fails to live up to his cause (Broysc, the Warrior, Baras); who drags a politically tricky vendetta under the nose of his powerful friendly Sith sponsor and gets documentable permission to land the killing blow so he has full protection from the consequences of the murder? What if he's still the diehard Imperial who fully comprehends Sith politics and is obsessed with maintaining appearances, but that's the list of his most, not least, sympathetic qualities? What if the life-changing thing that gets him off Balmorra isn't an affectionate master but rather one overwhelmingly corrupting dose of power?

 

And then it gets all icky. :(

Very icky indeed!

 

The strong implication that Quinn has gone on to use the restraints to advance a "romance" against Ruth's will is horrifying. You handled it really well, saying quite a lot very indirectly. To my mind, this is a sensitive treatment of an issue that deserves more than to be used as a cheap literary tool but is so often abused in bad literature, especially poor fanfic. It also shows, unless I miss my mark, that Ruth's ongoing traumatic experience with the mental restraints is making her somewhat numb to things getting worse bit by bit; she hides from thinking about some things directly, because at this point it's all become a bit too much and she just wants to get past it, survive, and, if possible, get revenge and stop Quinn from doing anything like this to anyone else again.

 

Quinn himself? Despicable. It really is appalling to imagine what he'd be like if, as you say, his least sympathetic qualities became his most sympathetic ones. In your main Ruth fic, I've found him to be an amazing mixture of sympathetic, monstrous, strong-willed and self-sabotaging, ultimately... ahem... leading him to have... um, yes... an air of noble tragedy. :o Not so much here. :eek:

 

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Very icky indeed!

 

The strong implication that Quinn has gone on to use the restraints to advance a "romance" against Ruth's will is horrifying. You handled it really well, saying quite a lot very indirectly. To my mind, this is a sensitive treatment of an issue that deserves more than to be used as a cheap literary tool but is so often abused in bad literature, especially poor fanfic. It also shows, unless I miss my mark, that Ruth's ongoing traumatic experience with the mental restraints is making her somewhat numb to things getting worse bit by bit; she hides from thinking about some things directly, because at this point it's all become a bit too much and she just wants to get past it, survive, and, if possible, get revenge and stop Quinn from doing anything like this to anyone else again.

 

Quinn himself? Despicable. It really is appalling to imagine what he'd be like if, as you say, his least sympathetic qualities became his most sympathetic ones. In your main Ruth fic, I've found him to be an amazing mixture of sympathetic, monstrous, strong-willed and self-sabotaging, ultimately... ahem... leading him to have... um, yes... an air of noble tragedy. :o Not so much here. :eek:

 

SW and Ruth both-continuity spoilers:

 

 

The forced "romance" is difficult to handle simply because I don't like thinking about it. But it's such a logical extension of the circumstances that I would almost feel obligated to think up an explanation if it weren't happening. Therefore: Present, in the background, not something that can be denied but also not something Ruth's going to wallow in. I would rather be examining the political and power currents than the psychological damage, even if the latter can't be 100% ignored.

 

I can easily see a lot of terrible sub-literature being written on the subject of obsessing over trauma, especially if it makes her *cough*LaraCroft*cough* a big bad vengeance machine, but...no. Not going there, not thinking through that. And so neither is she.

 

I feel rather like someone who posited "What if the heroine gets her power from kicking puppies?" and then got upset that this logically plays out into a brutal story about kicking puppies. It was really interesting! It's just horrible.

 

When Ruth has the chance she's focusing on helping others, and when she doesn't have that chance she's very narrowly focusing on surviving long enough to fully clean up her situation. By late game, you're right, she's been in this trap too long to have the energy for any other considerations.

 

 

I'm glad you liked RuthMainUniverse!Quinn! I had no idea he was going to end up a tragic figure there, and I felt bad enough about it that I had to "improve" his situation by moving him and his heroism-at-shattering-personal-cost into a comedy afterwards. :cool: Whether he thinks that's an improvement on his lot in life, well...

 

 

 

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Xa, my sharp as a blade IA, is just about to set foot on Belsavis. Which means...<drum roll please>...I CAN READ IA CH 2 SPOILERS!!! (I'm very very excited and have been looking forward to this for awhile, especially Ruth's AU cause I love Ruth.) I got to read through all the Ruth posts in a row, and I cannot wait to see what happens next. This AU is just extremely compelling, and... IA 2 spoilers:

 

I JUST got my girl out of Castellan restraints so it's like the whole thing all over again except Ruth doesn't have Watcher X (who I AM NOT fascinated by and IS NOT yet another example of my attraction to bald (and nearly-so) dangerous men (and I'll keep telling myself that, thank you very much)) to keep her company and Quinn is SO MUCH WORSE than what Xa had to deal with. Ugh, the burning hatred in my chest and utter helplessness while fighting the whole time to find a way - I wouldn't want to be Quinn when (I'm hoping for when) she gets free.

 

Also, I cannot tell you, cannot, how much I love Pierce in this story. Like I literally clasped my hands to my chest (and I didn't realize people actually did that)

when he told her he knew, that whole piece just...omg.

And then I catch all up and there's a new post (clapping ensues!) and this!:

The Sword of Mercy: Goals and Ambitions 3. Today's entry is 1000 words. Significant spoiler elements are taken from SW Act 3 and IA Act 2 to set up this reality...

 

"It would be a field of corpses," the Minister said bitterly.

 

"Maybe," said Pierce, "but maybe more of the people who actually deserve to live would still be out there."

 

At this point, madly in love wouldn't be too far off and as soon as I finish my ia, I'm leveling my sw cause I must have Pierce (I'm ignoring that I'll have to deal with Quinn.)

I am on pins and needles and I must have moar!

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Prompt: Goals and Ambitions

 

Title: My Senator

 

Characters: Rixik, Kirya (Working AU Title: One Light in the Darkness)

 

Set well after Uncharted Territory and Hope and Kisses. Story takes place after Republic Balmorra. Akaavi is the newest member of the crew. And a lighter mood than the doom-and-gloom AU’s.

 

 

Significant spoilers for smuggler story acts 2 and 3.

 

Author notes:

I’ll be honest, I’m not really sure where this is going. I just know that Rixik would never ever trust Darmas. He’d be trying to figure out Darmas’ real game from the beginning. So it stands to reason he’d stumble on the Real Darmas, or at least hints of him, earlier than the standard story. He’d absolutely take advantage of this information.

 

 

 

Rixik capered into the galley, “What’s your poison, Bowdaar? I’m breaking out the good stuff.” He headed straight for the tall liquor cabinet and popped the crash-safe seal. Bowdaar growled. Rixik stopped, midway in removing a decanter half-full of dark amber liquid. “Wine? Really? I’d have pegged you for a rum or tequila man.”

 

Bowdaar growled again adding some strange whimpers. “Oh, well if that’s the case. I don’t think the ship can handle an angry drunk Wookie,” Rixik replied. He moved some bottles and decanters around in the cabinet, checking labels, “How about some Coruscanti—hold on, there’s a bottle of the vintage Dubrillion stuff from the Drayen haul hiding back here.”

 

Bowdaar roared approval. Rixik removed the wine and set it on the counter. “Did the Akaavi join the girls on the shopping trip?” Rixik rummaged through the cabinet, selecting several more liquor bottles and lining them up.

 

“No, I did not join the ‘girls’. I have the clothes I need,” said a female voice from the galley arch.

 

Rixik stood up, “And you look lovely in them.”

 

Akaavi frowned at him, “You are very loud. What are you doing?” she asked.

 

“Celebrating. I have fantastic news,” said Rixik, “What’s your drink, Akaavi?”

 

“What is your news?” she asked.

 

“I don’t know how to make that one,” Rixik said. He turned to the Wookie, who was busy retrieving glasses from another crash-safe cupboard, “Do you know that one, Bowdaar?” Bowdaar shrugged. Rixik glanced back at Akaavi, “Tell me what’s in it and I’ll fake it.”

 

Akaavi closed the space between them in a flash. She slapped both hands down hard on the counter. The bottles and glasses jumped, clinking. “I have no patience for games, little man, now tell me what is going on!”

 

Rixik bristled. That was Sal’s nickname. “Park it, Akaavi,” he snarled. To his surprise, Akaavi stood back and waited, arms folded. He took a deep breath, recovering his good mood. “It’s good news for Kirya, so I’m happy and I want to share. Problem?”

 

“No.”

 

“Great,” he said, smiling, “So, really, what do Mandalorians drink, anyway? For fun. And please don’t say blood.”

 

“Blood.” Akaavi said.

 

“So you do have a sense of humor,” Rixik replied. He leaned forward, drumming his fingers on the counter, “Suppose, for the sake of argument, you just bagged your bounty, you’re in a great mood and you have a wad of credits in your pocket. You head for the nearest cantina, or Mandalorian encampment, or whatever, and you get yourself a big drink of…”

 

Akaavi sighed, “Mandalorian ale,” she completed for him.

 

“Thank you,” Rixik said, “I don’t have any.”

 

“Of course not. You are not a Mandalorian.”

 

“What I do have,” Rixik continued, ignoring her jibe and opening another cabinet, “is Fermented Fungus Ale. Drop a shot of bourbon in it to make a Shipbreaker and that ought to be strong enough for a big tough Mandalorian.”

 

“That is not the same,” Akaavi grumped.

 

Rixik walked around the side of the counter and leaned against it, propping himself on one elbow, “Akaavi, I’m in the mood for a party. If you’re not, then go back to the crew quarters and do whatever it is Mandalorians do when they’re not being sociable.”

 

Akaavi glared at him. Then she circled about to the table farthest away from the little kitchenette and the open door to the passage, planting herself in the corner with her back to the wall, “I will try your…Shipbreaker.”

 

“Excellent. That’s one Shipbreaker, one Dubrillion Shiraz, and Whyren’s Reserve, neat,” Rixik said, “Bowdaar, if you'd do the honors?” Bowdaar roared and wrenched a dark, antique stopper from the wine bottle.

 

 

 

By the time Kirya returned with the rest of the crew, the mood on Sirocco was quite festive. Music thumped and reverberated through the ship, accompanying a genderless voice singing in something other than Basic. “Hello?” she called, entering the ship with Risha and Corso in tow.

 

Rixik poked his head out of the galley, “You’re back!” He bounded down the hallway to the main hatch, “Here, let the droid take care of these things, come on,” he said, seizing her hand and setting her bag on the deck.

 

“You’re drunk,” Kirya said.

 

“Am not,” he retorted, “yet. Everyone into the galley, we’re having a party!” He dragged her off down the hall. Corso and Risha exchanged glances. Corso shrugged. They followed the pair.

 

“Jesp, what’s going on?” Kirya protested.

 

Rixik charged into the galley, “Bowdaar, get my lovely wife an Alderaanian Surf, extra fizzy, a Shipbreaker for Corso here, and Risha? Nar Shaddaa Ice Tea, hold the spice.” Rixik gave Kirya a huge messy kiss, “I have some fabulous news!”

 

Bowdaar broke off his arm-wrestling contest with Akaavi and went to mix the drinks. Kirya pushed Rixik to arm’s length, “I’m officially worried. The last time you had fabulous news was when you had Skavak done up in taxidermy and auctioned him off in sections.”

 

“He was already a corpse, doll,” Rixik slipped inside her arms and grabbed her waist. “He didn’t care. Besides, this is better.”

 

“Oh really?” Kirya accepted a tall glass of her blue fizzy drink from Bowdaar.

 

“Absolutely,” Rixik drained the rest of his whisky, “Darmas Pollaran has some heavy-duty Imperial connections!”

 

Pandemonium erupted in the galley. Cries of protest from every throat, all focused on Rixik. He backed away into a corner, hands before him as though they could stop the clamor. The music cut out sometime during the tirade, leaving only a cacophony of angry voices and menacing growls in Shyriiwook.

 

Everyone shut up!” Kirya cried. The din diminished until only Bowdaar’s low grumbling remained. Rixik peeked over his warding hands. Kirya advanced a step, “Jesp, did you just say what I think you said?”

 

“That Pollaran is at best a well-placed Imperial sympathizer?” he squeaked.

 

“That sounds a bit more tame,” Kirya said, “I heard ‘heavy-duty Imperial connections’.”

 

Rixik gulped, “That’s right,” he slid back up the wall, “this is good news.”

 

“This is terrible news!” Kirya yelled.

 

“No it isn’t,” he protested, standing straighter, “This whole thing with the senator was fishy from the beginning. Everyone had a bad feeling about him. You did,” he pointed at Corso, “even though he was Viidu’s go-to guy. Even though you introduced us to him.”

 

“That was more because of the way he looked at Kirya,” Corso stated, “I didn’t know he was Imperial!”

 

“See?” Rixik focused back on Kirya, “now we know!”

 

“Excuse us for a minute,” Kirya’s words were frostier than her cocktail, “we need to speak privately.”

 

Kirya hauled Rixik to the adjoining captain’s stateroom and locked the door behind her, “Are you absolutely sure about this, Jesp?”

 

“Positive,” he said, taking a seat on the bed.

 

“How?” she demanded.

 

“I’ve got…stuff embedded in everyone’s files. Except Akaavi’s, I haven’t gotten to hers yet. Passive stuff,” he leaned back, “records when they’re accessed and by who. Little stuff like that.”

 

“You’re paranoid,” she snapped.

 

“Yeah, well, I think I’m justified with the size of Rogun the Butcher’s bounty. Why do you think you haven’t had more trouble with hunters, babe?”

 

Kirya took a seat in a chair opposite him, “I don’t like where this is going,” she said.

 

“You should,” Rixik replied, “Pollaran tapped our files. All of them. Yours, mine, Corso’s, Risha’s, Bowdaar’s. Digging. Sent in little sniffers, cross-referencing with other sources.”

 

“What’s he looking for?” Kirya asked.

 

“He probably already found it. I bet he figured out my file is synthetic. He’s probably looking for the original. I’m sure he knows all about Risha,” he scooted forward to the edge of the mattress, “These are some heavy-duty ciphers. I’ve never seen anything like them. So I ran it by a guy I know, a Bith, serious security guy. He swears it’s Imperial code. High-level stuff, not just something you’d buy for a handful of credits from some street slicer. Pollaran must have gotten it from official sources. Ergo,” he sat straighter, “High-level Imperial ties. And the Coruscanti tabloids have been buzzing with rumors of Dodonna’s mysterious man.”

 

Kirya deflated, “I don’t understand why you’re so happy about this.”

 

“Pollaran’s sleeping with Dodonna and his fingers leave Imperial prints. What more do you want?”

 

“This is horrible, Jesp!” Kirya yelled.

 

“No, no, no, you’re missing the point,” he knelt beside her and wrapped his arms around her legs, “He’s in bed—literally—with a Republic senator. Get it? This guy is a dirty as they come, he’s obviously playing both sides, and we caught him! Well, mostly. This isn’t admissible in court but the holonet! Reporters would love this stuff!”

 

“So, a scandal makes you happy?”

 

“You still don’t get it. Dodonna won’t want this to get out. Darmas won’t either,” Rixik stared at her, willing her to make the leap.

 

Kirya finally said, “You want to blackmail them.”

 

“No! Well, yes, sort of. This kind of information, you can name your price. Kirya,” Rixik was dead serious all of a sudden, “Think about it, Kirya, a Republic Senator. In your pocket. She could introduce legislation for you. Do things for you, in a way you never considered possible before.”

 

“But she’s dirty, Jesp. You think a bad person would do good things?”

 

“Why not?” he said, “Case in point.”

 

Kirya rubbed one eye, “That’s not the same and you know it.”

 

“Okay, true,” He folded his arms on her knees and rested his chin on his hands, looking up into her pretty eyes, “Look, all this,” he rolled a finger, indicating the room, “the ship, the crew, everything, this was never your dream. It was mine, as much as I had dreams bigger than spending all my credits before getting killed. You wanted to make a difference. You wanted to change things.”

 

“It didn’t work.”

 

“We didn’t have a senator then.”

 

“I don’t like the idea of blackmail, Jesp. I won’t do it. I won’t let you do it for me,” Kirya said.

 

“Ssh, hey,” he reached up and stroked her chin, “Hey, nothing’s done yet, all right? Pollaran’s looking for my old file, I’ve got dirt on him now. The name of the game here is leverage.”

 

“I hate these games, Jesp,” Kirya whispered.

 

“I know, doll,” he said, holding her tight, “but we’re in it anyway. I, for one, plan to beat them with their own damn cards.”

 

Kirya sighed, “So what do we do?”

 

“Play along, for now. Now we know there’s a hidden agenda. That’s important,” he sat back on his heels, “We can find out more. Figure out what they’re up to. We don’t have to play it dirty if you don’t want to, Kirya. Might even be better if we worked with Dodonna’s enemies instead of going at them head on.”

 

“I…I don’t know.”

 

“Kirya, this is an opportunity. I know it doesn’t look like one to you yet, but it is. Pollaran and Dodonna think they’ve got a couple of dumb Twi’leks running around, doing their little tasks, being good little minions,” Rixik grinned, and it was a scary ambitious grin, “I say we show them different.”

 

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The Sword of Mercy: Goals and Ambitions 3. Today's entry is 1000 words. Significant spoiler elements are taken from SW Act 3 and IA Act 2 to set up this reality...

 

Okay, sorry to double post, but this is great. Both the Minister and Pierce are spot on. Heck, I could even hear their respective voices. Really, really well done.

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Prompt: Goals and Ambitions

 

Title: My Senator

 

Characters: Rixik, Kirya (Working AU Title: One Light in the Darkness)

 

Set well after Uncharted Territory and Hope and Kisses. Story takes place after Republic Balmorra. Akaavi is the newest member of the crew. And a lighter mood than the doom-and-gloom AU’s.

 

 

Significant spoilers for smuggler story acts 2 and 3.

 

Author notes:

"You wanted to make a difference. You wanted to change things.”

 

“It didn’t work.”

 

“We didn’t have a senator then.”

 

 

 

Gotta love the kind of guy who can find the dirtiest possible way of doing the right thing. Or, put another way, who can put the noblest face possible on doing a dirty thing.

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So this AU begs the question that has been brought up in the Quinn discussions that have been happening in this and the other weekly challenge thread recently.

 

 

What if, Quinn was a woman? Would everyone's favorite Imperial Captains actions and character be more sympathetic if Malavai was a woman? I've thought about doing a gender bender for dear Captain Quinn for a while, but other ideas took over. Jaesa is also going to change, aka Jaesa will be Jesse (a boy) only because the amount of estrogen would be overwhelming.

 

Male SW Anders Ordic, Vette, and Lieutenant Miranda Quinn.

 

Friends and Allies. SW Balmorra spoilers.

 

 

Lieutenant Quinn strode through the nearly empty Sobrik streets to the command station, getting some fresh air before the scent of ozone and explosives fill the atmosphere again. She stopped long enough to watch a red sun rise. A tendril of thick black hair escaped her bun, and not for the first time did she think of cutting it all off, short. She never would, her long ebony locks were her only point of vanity, even if it was twisted and pinned up into a severe bun ninety seven percent of the time. She strode to the holo then checked the time, she was exactly one minute early, she fell into parade rest and waited for Baras to call.

 

“Lieutenant Quinn, good, we have much to discuss.” The large masked Sith appeared in the usual washed out pale blue.

 

“My Lord. I am at your disposal.” Miranda Quinn bowed deeply and respectfully at the man who had saved her dignity and career.

 

“My newest apprentice will be arriving on Balmorra, coordinate your efforts with his, and lend your expertise. Perform well in this assignment, and your star may yet rise again Quinn.”

 

“Then I hope to exceed expectations my Lord!” She kept the pleasure at the prospect out of her voice, maintaining a respectful and deferential tone.

 

“Contact me when he arrives.” The holo clicked off and Quinn found herself alone again, she found herself smiling, anxious even at the assignment ahead. This apprentice could very well be her ticket off of Balmorra. She cleared the Cheshire grin from her lips as the first of her subordinates entered the room.

 

It was mid-day and one of her Scouts had returned with less than pleasing reports. He stood before her, nervous, Quinn had a well-deserved reputation of driving her people hard, and getting results. They feared failure, and as such almost never did. Today was different.

 

“Sir, I apologize sir, it was the best I could do.” He timidly offered her his useless apologies and excuses.

 

“If that’s your best you’re useless to me.” Her blue eyes were like daggers, and even though the soldier stood several inches taller than her, he cowered, pathetic. “I can shoot you dead with a clear conscience. Is that what you want?”

 

“No sir!”

 

“Then focus Jillings. Dismissed.” When the Scout left she found herself being appraised and judged.

 

She turned to face the intruder, he wore twin blades at his hips, a large red tattoo covered the left half of his face, encircling one of his two cool green eyes. His armor was short and practical, not the long robes she had often seen. The light in the room highlighted the flecks of gold in his short chestnut hair, he was leaning against the door way a sardonic grin on his face. The apprentice. He watched Jillings leave as he crossed the doorway. He sauntered in slowly, Miranda noted the bright blue Twilek who trailed after him, but paid her no mind. She gave the apprentice a short bow.

 

“I apologize for the delay my Lord. Lieutenant Miranda Quinn, I am to be your liaison here on Balmorra.”

 

“I am Anders Ordic, apprentice to Darth Baras. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance Lieutenant” He replied in a rich yet faintly rough voice.

 

“Likewise my Lord.” She felt herself unable to look away from his face, she noted that he had a long angular scar running across the bridge of his nose under his tattoo, and that he wore a perpetual look of teasing mockery on his face. He was still grinning.

 

“Please, call me Anders.” He offered his hand, and Quinn took it, and it was strong, warm and firm. The touch coupled with the familiarity gave her momentary pause, unsure how to answer him.

 

“I..I shall endeavor to try my Lord.” Her response earned a soft chuckle from the Sith, and Quinn felt her cheeks burning, she was actually blushing, she hadn’t blushed since she was a girl. “Lord..Baras is waiting for your call.” She actually paused considering calling him by his first name, but decided against it, better to be safe.

 

Out in the sunlight after the briefing Vette nudged Anders as they gathered their things and checked the map for their first objective.

 

“Sooooo. She’s cute!” Vette gave a knowing smile.

 

“I don’t know what you mean my dear Vette?” He gave his companion a side long glance.

 

“Ew, don’t call me, “my dear”, it’s creepy, especially since you’re old enough to be my dad.” She said as she made a face.

 

“I am not and you know it! I’m old enough to be your much older brother.” Anders spoke with faked hurt in his voice.

 

“Fine brother, it’s still kinda icky, you didn’t answer my question about Lieutenant Prime and proper. Did you see her blush? Poor girl.” Vette was speaking animatedly, as she loaded her pistols with new power cells.

 

“First, you didn’t ask a question to begin with, and yes I did see her blush. She is quite lovely, although I hope she is competent. Ask me again when we’ve finished our task here.” Anders did grin, Lieutenant Miranda Quinn had indeed blushed rather prettily, he would have to make her blush again next time they met.

 

 

Edited by Earthmama
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She never would, her long ebony locks were her only point of vanity, even if it was twisted and pinned up into a severe bun ninety seven percent of the time.

 

 

Ninety seven percent of the time, eh? Teehee.

 

This is a really good start. I hope to see more soon. :3

 

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Prompt: Goals and Ambitions

 

Title: My Senator

 

Characters: Rixik, Kirya (Working AU Title: One Light in the Darkness)

 

Set well after Uncharted Territory and Hope and Kisses. Story takes place after Republic Balmorra. Akaavi is the newest member of the crew. And a lighter mood than the doom-and-gloom AU’s.

 

 

Significant spoilers for smuggler story acts 2 and 3.

 

Author notes:

I’ll be honest, I’m not really sure where this is going. I just know that Rixik would never ever trust Darmas. He’d be trying to figure out Darmas’ real game from the beginning. So it stands to reason he’d stumble on the Real Darmas, or at least hints of him, earlier than the standard story. He’d absolutely take advantage of this information.

 

 

This was so good. I would love for there to be some path or some set of decisions in game where we could beat the characters that try to double cross us BEFORE they do. That would be lovely. But I guess that's what fanfic is for.

 

 

Also, @Earthmama <3<3<3 Love it!

Edited by kabeone
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So this AU begs the question that has been brought up in the Quinn discussions that have been happening in this and the other weekly challenge thread recently.

Hmm, this is a very interesting idea! I'm eager to see where you take it.

 

I've been planning on posting something similar myself, actually... The idea has been floating around in my brain for quite some time of what if Quinn and my warrior switched places? To be more specific: what if Quinn was the Sith?

 

Would anyone be interested in that? :)

 

(that was a rhetorical question. I'm totally going to post it anyway. :D)

Edit: Damn, now I have to go through with it. Stupid fingers, why can't I think before I type? :rolleyes: Too many stories...

Edited by Vesaniae
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