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The Short Fic Weekly Challenge Thread!


elliotcat

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Once again I have fallen behind the reading curve...here I go!

 

And another...

 

Mission Accomplished featuring Andronikos, Talos and my Sith assassin. No spoilers (I think :p ). Written late at night so apologies for any mistake.

 

I love your Talos. I always love Talos. Marvelous story.

 

 

I finally came up with rudiments of a backstory for my agent...so here's what's in a name with Vriska Alyssum the Operative! With an appearance from Meenah Ferula the Sith Assassin.

 

Oh, the prose flowed wonderfully for this one. I like.

 

More names. This time it's Ayang.

 

 

 

The second I saw him, I knew what I was going to do.

 

 

 

This, I feel like this fills in a really critical part of Ayang's background.

 

 

Prompt: What’s in a Name?

 

Title: Judas

 

Character: Rixik (mercenary)

 

I could feel the grime on this one. Well done. As ever, I love your attention to detail.

 

 

Companion Quest

 

Politics During Wartime

JK - Scourge (with a teensy bit of Esma) no spoilers

 

 

Author's Note:

This one comes from a diplomacy mission that states: The professional rivalry of two factions of Senators has degraded into childish bickering. Have your companion remind the Senators of their real duties.

 

Inciting a riot seemed an appropriate way to get their heads out of their behinds.

 

My new favorite parliamentary style. :D

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Thanks, bright! Glad you liked it. I often feel like I have to skirt around Ayang's background to avoid getting too dark and/or adult. I don't want to upset people.

 

I hope to write more of Vriska later. Especially

her eventual cheating on Darth Alyssum...

 

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Time for new prompts! Hooray!

 

8/17/12

What If? - Most characters have some major event in their past that changed the entire course of their life. What if that event never happened? Would they even take part in their class stories, meet all their companions, or be the person you played? Suggested by Morgani.

 

My First - Firsts are usually special - first items, like Jedi and Sith's first lightsabers or an agent or smuggler's first gun. First times, like your first time connecting with the Force or your first time stepping onto your ship. Firsts can change a person and solidify who they are. Write about a special "first" in your character's life and how it shaped them.

 

What's in a Name - Extended for the week because it was so popular. If it still inspires you, keep writing it! All the stories were just that good.

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Also catching up with the thread. Darn server maintenance this morning (yesterday morning...whatever).

 

I got a couple requests for an Ipha story so here she is in all her glory. No spoilers, Elara, Jorgan and Tanno Vik co star.

I really enjoyed this one. Will we soon see a new franchise "Hair Club for Males"?

 

Companion Quest

 

Politics During Wartime

JK - Scourge (with a teensy bit of Esma) no spoilers

Also a lot of fun to read. Especially knowing that Scourge was not being funny, he was dead serious.

 

More names. This time it's Ayang.

Again, nice insight into Ayang's background. Dark, yeah, adult, yeah, but that's who that character is. I think you showed that part of Ayang's history in a good way: not telling the past events as they happened, but how Ayang dealt with it later.

 

I also appreciated the unplanned juxtaposition of Ayang's story with mine on Rixik's.

 

Striges, very well written! And perfect for a smuggler!

Funny you should mention smuggler as his class. Rixik started out as my smuggler but had a career change when I re-rolled a female smuggler. He's now my bounty hunter. Suits him better. I didn't change his backstory (he's young here, well before class stories start) beyond giving him a reason to take up bounty hunting, so I guess it shows.

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What If?

 

 

 

"Medisha, you shouldn't be here." Broan helped the youngling to her feet and wrapped an arm around her shoulders: a feeble gesture of protection against the on-coming blaster fire. She turned to him, her expression blank to the point of being apathetic.

 

"And neither should you."

 

A shiver ran down Broan's spine as he heard those words. Trying to avoid her cloth-covered gaze, he looked around the hanger, appearing to assess their position. Captain Istier had found the wayward Lieutenant, it seemed, and was in the middle of presenting him to the invading Imperial forces. The man was on his knees in front of her, passive and unmoving. The chill he had just felt settled into brick of ice in his stomach. Captain Istier had a gun pressed to the back of the man's head; red hair parted by a silver barrel. She shouted something, something Broan could not quite hear over the din of the hanger. The shot was clear.

 

Before the body had even touched the floor, Lord Vizloch was upon the Captain. A single slash of a sabre separated her head from her shoulders. Lord Vizloch kicked it away in disgust. She turned to Broan and he could feel the anger rising from her. She flicked her wrist and a flash of red was the last thing Broan ever saw.

 

 

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What if?

 

 

Corso watched as the petite female prisoner was punched by the trooper. He winced as her head struck the metal bedframe and she fell, silent and still. Oh well, he thought, she really shouldn’t have kicked the guy there. He was nursing wounds of his own, inflicted by that scum Skavak when he took off and stole the lady’s ship. Still, he felt like he’d have gotten away if she had believed him, that he wasn’t any part of the scheme to steal from her. She might have gotten a pass too, but someone ran her background before she could get away. He had a hard time believing someone as small as she was could take out a platoon of soldiers, but what did he know? He had no idea Skavak was a sep, either.

 

He watched as she groaned and struggled to sit up, crawling instead to the far corner of the filthy cell. Blood ran down her face, and she swiped at it with her cuffed hands. She’d screamed about that, he recalled, wanting to know why she was cuffed in a cell. He could see her reasoning. Now she just sat in dejected silence, staring straight ahead.

 

He heard his name called and walked to the cell door, where he saw Viidu paying his bail. He was released, and when he passed the woman on his way out she didn’t even look at him. He was just glad to be free, and thanked his boss for his help.

 

A month later, one of his friends had a little too much fun and Corso found himself at the holding cells again, bailing his friend out. He glanced down the row and saw her, still bound, still sitting. She was several pounds lighter, which made her waif-like. He asked the trooper on duty what was wrong with her.

 

“I have no idea, buddy, but unless she finds her voice soon, she’ll lose enough weight to just waste away. All she has to do is tell us who hired her. You want to pay her bail, too?” He laughed, but stopped laughing when he was handed a cred stick. “Seriously? Okay, it’s your money. You know you don’t get it back if she takes off on you, right?” Corso nodded and the transaction went through. “Hey, Carl, get Spooky out too, “ the trooper shouted down the hallway. In a few minutes, Corso had both his friend, who was only half conscious, and the tiny woman with the silver eyes, both walking out with him. They reached the street, and stopped.

 

“I know you don’t have a place to stay,” Corso told her, “you can sleep at my place tonight if you want.” Her frightened expression told him that she didn’t trust him, and he held his hands up defensively. “I won’t touch you, and you can do something else tomorrow. I gotta get this guy home first, though.” She hesitated, then nodded and followed the two men. She hadn’t said a word since that first night they were put in the cells, and her voice didn’t seem to work at the moment. Corso got his friend home, then turned to the woman, motioning her to follow him.

 

They arrived at his place, which wasn’t fancy but was clean and well cared for. He went in his room, got some clothes for her since hers were beyond saving, and showed her where she could sleep. He went to his own room, heard the water running, and nodded. He fell into bed, knowing he had to be at work early. Before he left the next morning, he looked into the other bedroom to check on her. Her bare back was his first sight, partially covered by the waterfall of long, black hair. She was snoring softly, and he didn’t have the heart to wake her. He sighed, and set off for work.

 

When he returned, she was gone. He’d expected that. She did leave a note, though.

 

I will pay you back every credit. Thank you for your kindness. Miriah

 

 

Edited by Magdalane
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I have a feeling that "What if?" is going to keep me going all week.

 

What If? Sith Warrior Act 3 spoilers.

 

 

 

Vette dreamed she was a slave again.

 

Her collar weighed on her as she drifted up from the total black. She opened her eyes. She was still on the Fury, where she had been living with Ruth for the better part of a year.

 

Oddly, she was in the cargo hold.

 

Her eyes adjusted, slowly, to the trace amounts of light. There were people around her: an enormous pale form that must be Broonmark, an only slightly smaller shape that could be Lieutenant Pierce, something huddled in the corner that Vette supposed might be Captain Quinn. And, only a few feet away, Jaesa was sitting up, looking at Vette. She, too, was collared.

 

"You okay?" asked Jaesa.

 

"Uh, sure. Headache. Some kinda painful spots."

 

"Lightsabers will do that. He patched up our worst injuries, though."

 

"He?"

 

Jaesa shuddered. "Lord Draahg."

 

Memory slammed back: pounding on the door, a commotion at the airlock seal at an orbital station. "Oh, God. Ruth?"

 

Jaesa's voice closed to almost nothing but breath. "He killed her."

 

"We've got a brilliant escape plan. Right?"

 

"I've got some small hope that everybody else in the room is alive. Maybe. That's all the good news I have."

 

Vette looked around again. "I don't suppose there's a way we can trade Broonmark or somebody for a brilliant escape plan?"

 

"I'm not sure anybody would take that bargain."

 

Vette's wrists were bound in front of her with only a few inches' slack. She awkwardly crawled to Broonmark's side. The Talz was out cold, his breathing shallow. "He looks bad."

 

"There's not much we can do about it for now," said Jaesa, who herself was crawling over to check on Pierce. "Lieutenant?"

 

"Draahg," rumbled Pierce. He sat up abruptly, shook his head hard, grimacing at the feel of his slave collar. "Where is he? Where are we? How did he even know Ruth was alive after Quesh? How did he track us down? I'll wring his rotten Sith neck."

 

"We don't have any answers yet," Jaesa said softly.

 

Pierce scanned the cargo hold. "So did he take her prisoner, too? She was still fighting when he knocked me out."

 

Jaesa shook her head. "He killed her. He ran her through."

 

"Dammit!" His bellow shook the walls, sent a wave of pain through Vette's throbbing head. "I'll kill him. And I'll bring the bloody Citadel down around his master's ears."

 

Vette edged over to the collared person curled up in the corner, who was, in fact, Quinn.

 

"Captain?"

 

His eyes opened as if he had been awake all along.

 

"She's dead," he said in a soft strange dead tone. "Isn't she."

 

"That's an interesting first thought to have, given everything else that's going on here."

 

"It wasn't my first thought. I just processed a lot before I hit upon something worth asking about." He sat up and wheezed something that might have been intended as a laugh. "She's dead. It's almost a relief, in some ways."

 

"Um. What?"

 

The cargo hold door slid open, letting in blinding white light around the silhouette of a big man in Sith robes. "Good to see you're all awake," said Lord Draahg. "Except our Talz friend?"

 

"He's badly hurt," said Jaesa. "You nearly bashed his skull in."

 

"A pity. He would have been useful. Well, the rest of you, come along."

 

He lined them up in the holo room: Quinn, Vette, Jaesa, Pierce.

 

"Welcome," Draahg said cheerfully, "to your new lives of service."

 

"Piss off," said Pierce, and spat.

 

"Is that any way to talk to your new master?"

 

"None of us are gonna serve you," said Vette.

 

"I think you'll find it preferable to the alternative, Twi'lek." Draahg produced a larger-than-usual collar control and shocked Vette, watching with a small smile until she doubled over and let a groan of pain escape. Then he let up.

 

She glared up at him. "You won't get away with this."

 

"Oh? Who will stop me? Your master is dead. Her father is dead. Her only allies in this galaxy are you. And what allies you are." He looked up and down the line, smiling broadly. "Baras never told me which one of you was reporting in. I have one obvious candidate, but Baras's people have surprised me before."

 

Quinn inclined his head. "I brought you this far."

 

Draahg's smile widened. "And a fine job you did of that, lover-boy."

 

Pierce spent a few seconds struggling to break his bonds; failing that, he lunged bodily at the captain. "You worthless-"

 

Draahg pressed another control button. The slave collar didn't just lick Pierce with electrical arcs; it flared brilliantly and dropped the man in half a second flat. The room filled with the smell of ozone.

 

"I had this one custom made," said Draahg. "We all know the 'discomfort' and 'inconvenience' settings would be pointless for the likes of you."

 

Pierce stayed on the floor, a few muscles twitching weakly.

 

"Now, then," said Quinn, too calmly. He held his head high. "I have served. You would never have gotten close enough to strike without the information I gave you."

 

"And my master and I are grateful," said Draahg. "You were useful. Maybe if you behave you'll live to serve us again."

 

"And the collar?"

 

Draahg's smile fell away for a second. "The collar stays on, worm."

 

"If wishes come true," added Vette, "it'll be on for the rest of your life, and that'll end less'n five minutes from now."

 

"Am I going to have to separate you two?" mocked Draahg .

 

"Yes. Yes, please do," said Vette.

 

Pierce struggled to his feet and rolled his shoulders, staring daggers at the Sith.

 

"You three will most likely be put on menial labor." Draahg took a step toward Jaesa. "You, however...my master would be glad to have your specialized skills on our side."

 

"It won't happen," Jaesa said, her voice surprisingly steady.

 

"We won't be risking you in combat. You need only utilize your insight skills when commanded."

 

"Whatever Baras would use that for, I won't help."

 

Draahg pressed the shock control for her collar. She actually drew herself straighter, going rigid, and didn't allow a cry to escape her lips. "I will not help you," she said, as steadily as she could with the electricity pulsing through her.

 

"Oh, discipline for you will be difficult, won't it?" Draahg smiled slyly. "Let's try again. Agree to serve, or I shall punish Vette."

 

His thumb slid from one button to another. Jaesa's collar went dormant, and suddenly Vette's crackled to life. The Twi'lek squeaked and tried to stay calm and still; it didn't work.

 

"No! No, stop," cried Jaesa, "stop it!"

 

"Promise to serve my master."

 

Jaesa looked down and away. "I will serve," she said quietly.

 

He walked up to her and ran one hand over her hair, then cupped her chin. "It doesn't have to be all bad," he said softly. Jaesa's face twisted in revulsion.

 

And just then Pierce lunged again. His bound hands could separate enough to get a grip on Quinn's head; he twisted and a muffled crack sounded before Draahg could get his finger on the remote button to shock Pierce again. Both officers fell; the difference was, Pierce would be able to get up again.

 

But he was grinning, more or less, where he lay. "Shoulda done that...a long time ago. 'f I had...she'd be around...to hunt you down 'n' kick your arse."

 

"A charming what-if scenario," said Draahg, "but tragically for you - and for her - it didn't happen that way." The Sith nudged Lieutenant Pierce with his foot. "Up, now. Back to the cargo hold with you all. We'll talk again when we reach Dromund Kaas."

 

 

 

Notes:

 

If Draahg had won? He would still be pretty. My first reaction to that thought was "Totally worth it, then." :o

 

Edited by bright_ephemera
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Tatile; You can't you can't you can't!!!!! Oh, what if?

 

Oh. I'm still sad.

 

Bright: You make me sad too. But Pierce... is so Pierce. The only reason I know and love these companions is because of you. Thanks for the pay back.

 

Mags: I didn't see the first story but I really liked the one you put up. Corso is just a good guy like that. However, you do make me glad that the story starts the way it does in game though.

Edited by Morgani
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What if....

 

Paths Untrodden

JK - Esma and Scourge

implied spoilers for the JK story

 

Lord Ukaita strode through the streets of Dromund Kaas, her eyebrows drawn down in thought as Imperial citizens fled from the Sith's path. Darth Baras was planning something, she was sure of it. Her ascension to the Dark Council the week before had made him her enemy, a threat to his growing power. She walked past the line on the platform and took the next available speeder.

 

Whether Baras would strike directly against her or against her family was the question. Ubrinu could take care of herself against the might of the Republic army, but it would be easy enough for her sister to disappear on a black ops mission. Her parents weren't out of reach either as they navigated the complex political world of the Ascendancy.

 

She leaped gracefully out of the speeder and walked into the Citadel towards her apartments. The reactions of the various Sith to her appointment to the Dark Council at so young an age had been amusing. Beyond Baras's animosity, she'd sensed lust, hate, disgust, and curiosity. The Chiss, after all, were not generally Force-sensitive and even fewer survived Korriban. The tumult of emotions swirling around the room had been delicious, and she'd drank of the rich essence until she'd noticed the hole in the room. Him. The huge Sith who'd stood near the door in the shadows had no emotions that she could sense. She'd met his eyes and seen intelligence, curiosity, pride, but she'd felt nothing from him. The swirl of lust that had formed in her guts had been...unexpected.

 

She opened the door to her apartments and stopped. There was a presence there, waiting in the darkness. She reached out with the Force and found the same absence of emotion she'd just been recalling. She unsheathed her twin lightsabers, their red lights glowing in the dark.

 

"You have made a grave error," she said, her clipped Imperial tones empahsized the promised threat. She leaped into the room, directly into the presence. Another red lightsaber met hers in the darkness, the glow revealing the handsomely cruel face she'd seen in the Council room. Her red eyes glowed as lust hit her once more. There was something about him...

 

"Lord Ukaita," he said calmly as he met her attack, "we should talk."

 

"Oh?" Ukaita asked as she smashed the Sith back a step, "And what shall we talk about?"

 

"A vision," he said as he slammed lightning at her.

 

"I have no interest in visions," she said, throwing up a ward around herself.

 

"A vision," he continued as he paried her attacks, "in which you kill the Emperor."

 

She paused. He paused as well. "What is your name?"

 

"Lord Scourge. The Emperor's Wrath."

 

Ukaita sheathed her sabers and crossed her arms in front of her. "Very well, I'm listening."

 

 

Author's Note:

I'm actually really really happy how the order of stories has turned out cause this fits really well with Esma and Skari's discussion about the past and names last week. Just in case you were curious:

 

Esma would be called Maru'kai'tann - Ukaita (she's a Sith warrior)

Skari would be Maru'bri'nuruodo - Ubrinu (she's in the military, ended up in black ops with a string of demerits to her name, the only thing that keeps command from demoting her is her connection to her sister)

 

And if you're REALLY curious, I pulled Tann as the occupation name for Esma from Sev'rance Tann and Nuruodo as the occupation name for Skari from none other than Mitth'raw'nuruodo :)

 

 

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@Tatile - you break my heart but I know it's not real fiction it's fake fiction so that makes it ok.

 

@Magdalane - I would accept this as canon if Viidu could live. I liked him.

 

@bright_ephemera -

 

 

 

I would accept this as canon if Quinn could die (at least as a possible path, I'd delete a 50 yeah I would, just to watch a cut scene where mr. smuggity smuggness gets his neck snapped by Pierce oh yeah)

 

 

 

@iamthehoyden - lust for Scourge is the best kind

 

These stories are so good I feel ashamed of what I just wrote.

 

Prompt: What if?

The Emperor Won

 

 

Fools. They thought they could defeat me. I am fate, the only fate. Revan, Meetra, Scourge, Remi, they should never have faced me. They could have lived out their lives in blissful ignorance. Even after the ritual was complete, it took thousands of years to destroy the rest of the galaxy. Life continued and those who thought they were masters only lived a lie. Starkiller, Palpatine, Anakin, Luke, Mara, Kade, I consumed them all.

 

For a time it was enough, I lived all their lives again, most especially the ones who thought they could defeat me. It was almost a pleasure to see Scourge reject the Jedi’s love. To watch her embrace the light side completely, and without each other they both soon fell.

 

Stagnation is decay, and I would not come this far without taking everything, the universe is mine. But I had not expected what I encountered: galaxy after galaxy, and not a trace of Force-creating life. I marshaled my strength and I searched, could I have already won? Impossible. I swam through empty stars for countless years, I became one with the universe, I planted the seeds of life in the galaxies I passed, perhaps they would take root and I could return to consume it when I willed.

 

Then I sensed it, faint but sure, it had been so long it felt like a memory, but it was life, it was the Force, and it was mine. It had been long, too long, and with the last of my strength, I threw myself toward the spark of life. I found it, in a middling region of an average galaxy in a system with a single small cold star, a tiny blue planet.

 

I rushed toward it spending my power, I felt myself weaken, but it did not matter I would replenish myself on the new life here. I fell to the ground, I could see and sense their primitive nature, and they would do what all barbarians do when faced with a man who falls from the stars. They would worship me, and I would consume them.

 

The barbarians approached.

 

“Whoa man, that was some fall, where’d you come from?” The barbarian babbled in his strange language. I would use the Force to learn it. He was human, this was good, humans could use the Force, and they would become my subjects before I took their power and their lives.

 

I walked past their awed faces toward the source of power I first felt. It was a ritual, a large gathering designed to create the Force and magnify it. I stood with my arms raised as I watched, I absorbed the Force, and it had been long since I had felt it. I watched swaying as the leader of the ritual, performed his primitive but intricate steps. He was a near human, he skittered across the large stage his oversized mouth and thin form giving away his alien parentage. I spent more of my power even as I was replenished so that I could understand this ritual and take it for myself. I sent out creeping suggestions of violence, so that I could also drink their pain.

 

The words: War, children, yeah, it's just a shot away, It's just a shot away. I did not yet know the meaning but I repeated the words and took the power he summoned. It was too much, and I was depleted, the darkness took me for the first time I could recall.

 

***

 

“Man, am I tripping or is that a body?” A slightly inebriated man and his friend wobbled to the dark form lying on the ground. He reached out to touch it, it was the body of an old man, withered and pale, wrapped in tattered black cloth, he rolled the body over, the man’s eyes snapped open, and they were as black as the void. The two men screamed and ran, vowing never to drop acid again.

 

Another man witnessed the scene, he trotted to the shrouded form. “Sir, are you OK?” The old man hissed in response.

 

“What you got there?” Sam ran up to help his friend.

 

“I don’t know, just found him here. I have the van, I just put my camera away, let’s get him up.” The two men lifted the shriveled body between them, half carrying him to the van.

 

“Get any good shots?” Sam asked.

 

“Nah, I think my camera stopped working before they even started their set. Albert’s going to kill me.” He replied glumly.

 

“He likes you, he said you’ve got great potential.”

 

“Heh, we’ll see.” Was all he said, they loaded the old man into the van next to the giant portable camera. The camera operator got behind the wheel and drove to the nearest hospital, he hoped the old man would be ok.

 

***

 

The hospital looked busier than normal, the concert had not gone as smoothly as hoped.

 

“What’s his name?” the bored looking nurse asked.

 

“Don’t know. I found him in the parking lot at a concert.”

 

The nurses eyes widened, “You were there? You’re so lucky. I couldn’t get the night off. I wanted to see Mick so bad.” She shook her head but looked livelier and started processing the new patient. “It’s going to take a while to get him a bed,” she said apologetically “Can you go talk to him? See if you can get his info?”

 

“Sure,” He said walking back to where he had left the old man on a waiting room chair. “Sir, sir? Could you tell me your name, where you’re from, anything? Is there someone I could call for you?” He shook the old man’s shoulder gently, he looked frail but did not seem to be in any pain, his eyes opened, two black voids stared at the camera operator. “I think he might be blind,” he called to the nurse; she nodded and added it to his file.

 

“You want to know my name? Where I am from? I will tell you, mortal.” The old man said in a rasping voice. He sat on the floor in front of the old man as he spun a confusing tale of galaxies and people from long ago and far away.

 

“Did you get anything?” the nurse asked when the man returned to the desk.

 

“He might be crazy, so be careful with him, other than that I think I got a name.” He wrote it down spelling it as best as he could.

 

“You’ve got a good heart,” the nurse smiled, “Mister?”

 

“Just George.” He said, smiling. “You have a good night.”

 

***

 

A decade has past the Force works differently here, but I will soon learn to use it and bend it to my will. The mortal who took me to the white place and tried to have me confined failed. I freed myself and now I live among them biding my time until I take their cursed planet and absorb their pointless lives.

 

I watch them gather, in front of buildings to watch primitive pictures flash on large screens. There they are now, lining up to see this new “Star” picture. Before I take their lives I will show them what is really in the st-.

 

“Mr. Vitate?” Anna asked. She had volunteered at the shelter for years and knew her regulars well.

 

“It’s Vitiate you imbecile.” He shrieked waving his arms, flapping the sleeves of the tattered bathrobe he insisted on wearing after he discovered the hospital had burned his original clothing.

 

Anna smiled, Mr. Vitate was always grumpy when he had not eaten. “Chicken soup or tunafish sandwich.”

 

“Tunafish is vile, it is a punishment for slaves. Even a wookie would not eat a tunafish sandwich. Leave your offerings there.” He pointed at the cardboard box with a small can resting on top. Anna nodded patiently and put the disposable cup on the box.

 

“Soon,” he muttered to himself drinking his soup. Anna looked at his sign, shook her head, and put a dollar in the small can.

 

Veteran of the Galactic War, give what you can.

 

 

 

 

Edited by kabeone
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Time for new prompts! Hooray!

 

8/17/12

What If? - Most characters have some major event in their past that changed the entire course of their life. What if that event never happened? Would they even take part in their class stories, meet all their companions, or be the person you played? Suggested by Morgani.

 

My First - Firsts are usually special - first items, like Jedi and Sith's first lightsabers or an agent or smuggler's first gun. First times, like your first time connecting with the Force or your first time stepping onto your ship. Firsts can change a person and solidify who they are. Write about a special "first" in your character's life and how it shaped them.

 

What's in a Name - Extended for the week because it was so popular. If it still inspires you, keep writing it! All the stories were just that good.

 

Yay! I am so glad I can catch up again (lotso stories to read!) I can't wait!:D

 

@Kabeone That was too funny!:D I can't wait to see whats next lol.:D

Edited by SveinEternity
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Well, I finally got a story out! I just had the best inspirations!:) And my wrist is feeling MUCH better so my hand isn't aching while I'm typing anymore.:D Anyway here we go...

 

Prompt What if?

 

Title: The Child who Never Left Featuring: Azra and Saresh No spoilers

 

 

“Hello your excellency”, said Governor Saresh in her most pleasing voice,” You wanted to see me.”

 

“Yes, I wanted to discuss something with you”, replied Chancellor Eternity motioning for Saresh to take a seat across from her.

 

Saresh took a seat, her hands placed quietly on her lap as she looked at Azra with her usual smile. She would be invaluable in the Emperor’s plan. Her leadership, kindness, and more importantly her stupidity were the key to Azra’s success.

 

Azra smiled back at the twilek,”I wanted to speak with you about something concerning a special project that is being funded by General Garza.”

 

“Garza,” said Saresh dreamily,” Such a fine general who tries so hard to fight for everything the Republic stands for freedom, hones-.”

 

Azra had heard Saresh’s ramblings before and was becoming sick of them. She cut Saresh off with a question,” Would you like me to call the kitchen to get something to eat? It was a long trip over here.”

 

Saresh replied politely,” Oh no thanks. I am really not all that hungry.”

 

Azra punched in the code for the kitchen,” Oh no you really must eat something.”

 

With that, Azra told the chef to bring up two plates of “the usual” and hung up the communicator looking back at Saresh.

 

“Now,” said Azra choosing her words carefully in worry that Saresh would begin another one of her disgusting speeches,” I was hoping you could provide the project with a crucial piece of information.”

 

Saresh replied happily,” Of course your Excellency.”

 

A sly smile crept on Azra’s face as she responded;” I need to know the location of the Rackgoul Controller.”

 

Saresh’s patriotic expression disappeared and was replaced with a surprised and worried look,” How do you know about that?”

 

Azra got up from her seat and turned to face the view of Galactic City. She would need to think up something convincing to make her give up the Controller. Suddenly, Azra had an idea.

 

“Do you know what the Republic is Governor,” asked Azra, her voice filled with patriotism.

 

“A democracy of freedom and respect”, exclaimed Saresh excitedly.

 

“That’s right”, replied Azra looking back at Saresh with a wide grin,” I love this Republic, and that’s why you need to give me the Controller.”

 

“What do you want it for”, asked Saresh curiously.

 

Azra ignored the question and answered with one of her own,” Would you save the Republic if the Sith were about to destroy it. What if the only way to do that was to do something against what you believe?”

 

Saresh stammered,” I’m not sure.”

 

Azra turned and walked towards her desk looking down at Saresh. It amused Azra to be the one talking for once, to be giving her a taste of her own medicine. “Are your beliefs more important than the Republic?”

 

“Of course not”, exclaimed Saresh offended.

 

“Then would you save the Republic if it meant that”, asked Azra once more, silently enjoying herself.

 

Suddenly, the room was silent and Saresh looked at Azra with a disgusted expression on her face as well as a small tear running down her cheek.

 

“I would do anything to save the Republic”, said Saresh defiantly.

 

Azra smiled and replied,” Then you will give me the Controller.”

 

Saresh hesitated a moment but replied reluctantly,” Yes Chancellor.”

 

“Good”, replied Azra turning back toward her view of Corucant,” I presume you will give me the coordinates through a secured holo frequency.”

 

“Yes”, replied Saresh as she walked towards the door.

 

“Saresh?”

 

“What your excellency?”

 

“Your doing the right thing.”

 

“Thanks”, replied Saresh quietly as she exited.

 

Azra smiled with satisfaction etched in her face. “I will please you Father, I promise.”

 

Suddenly, a knock came from the door with a call from the chef on the other side.

 

“Your late, send it back”, replied Azra,” And go space yourself because your fired!”

 

Father would be so proud thought Azra.

 

 

Author Note:

I felt so mean about writing this because I know that Saresh means well its just that she is just too patriotic and annoying (I load the volume down when I'm at the spaceport on Taris). For Azra I thought she was just so mean though. It made me feel like I actually made Saresh cry...

 

Edited by SveinEternity
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Well, I finally got a story out! I just had the best inspirations!:) And my wrist is feeling MUCH better so my hand isn't aching while I'm typing anymore.:D Anyway here we go...

 

Prompt What if?

 

Title: The Child who Never Left Featuring: Azra and Saresh No spoilers

Author Note:

I felt so mean about writing this because I know that Saresh means well its just that she is just too patriotic and annoying (I load the volume down when I'm at the spaceport on Taris). For Azra I thought she was just so mean though. It made me feel like I actually made Saresh cry...

 

I have trouble believing someone that full of themselves can mean well. Good job! Cry Saresh, CRY.

(I liked this story)

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What If....

 

Ipha and Jorgan.

 

Edit: Sorry, I should have mentioned spoilery for beginning of Ch 3? Whenever A-77 happens.

 

 

Had there been another way?

 

Was there any other choice than to break his heart?

 

Major Ipha Kodrevas let the empty brew bottle fall out of her hand and thunk on the floor. It rolled to join the other five she'd already consumed. It wasn't enough.

 

She'd liked Jaxo. The woman was funny, she was charismatic, she'd wanted to be friends. Ipha would have been okay with that, until she'd found out that Jaxo had seduced Jorgan. She hadn't seen it at first. The evenings he'd disappear, the trips he'd make to Black Sun territory during their station on Coruscant. She was his superior officer. She'd never pushed him to tell her where he was going. Even when her feelings became something other than superior to subordinate she'd never made him verbalize who called on the holo, why he made side trips to Coruscant in those early days.

 

She had put two and two together not long after Dorne had joined the Squad. She had innocently questioned Ipha about who was putting the stars in the Sergeant's eyes. The realization had hit her like a metric ton of plastisteel.

 

She'd tried to make him jealous on Nar Shaddaa. Agent Jonas Balkar with his wit and his flirtatious eyes. Jorgan had nearly lost his temper, informing her to do it on her personal time. It was the anger she wanted, but not the reason she'd wanted. Hurt and furious, her affair with Balkar had been whirlwind and passionate. She'd let it die the day they transferred off the Hutta moon. Balkar never contacted her in a personal manner again.

 

She began sending Jorgan away more and more. He had this diplomatic streak under all that tawny fur and corded muscle. She would send him to negotiate for her. Any planet, any moon, for anything, just to get him off the ship and off her mind.

 

Even when she knew Jaxo would make time to go see him, or he'd stop off to spend time with her. She still sent him away, heart broken.

 

Tanno Vik became a constant companion. He affected her attitude, she knew it. But he was smart, and strong, and his dark sarcasm amused her. He twisted her just a little and she liked not being quite herself because she wouldn't have to think of Jorgan wrapped around Ava Jaxo.

 

Jaxo had tried to extend the peace branch. Woman's intuition or whatever, Jaxo knew there was tension between them. Ipha had agreed to a night out with Jaxo and her friends, though she wasn't sure why. Jaxo had waited until everyone had left and cautiously approached Ipha. Jaxo laid it all out in a rushed breath, words nearly tripping over each other. How much she was in love with Aric. How if she had known back then maybe she wouldn't have made a move.

 

Ipha had been disgusted with herself. She'd told Jaxo that Jorgan was going to be with who he wanted and there wasn't a thing she could do to change his mind. She'd accepted that he didn't have feelings for her. She'd almost meant it. She let herself part on good terms with Jaxo, a tentative friendship budding between the women. Even Jorgan was more casual around her. It had almost been good.

 

So could she had made another decision?

 

The brew bottle was empty again. It dangled between her fingers and she stared into the brown glass.

 

Three hundred people were alive because she'd made the call she'd made. Ava Jaxo was dead.

 

Jorgan's heart was broken. She'd done that. She'd done that to him. It broke her own heart.

 

She wasn't a terrible person, was she? She'd just... made the call. Three hundred for one. The good of the many. She'd made the call because there were more lives at stake than she wanted on her shoulders. Was that selfish?

 

The knock on the cargo bay door made her head shoot up. She squinted and tried to focus, her heart dropping into her knees when she saw Jorgan standing there. He was eyeing the brew bottles, all... what now? Seven of them? He looked drawn and haggard. He hadn't shaved either his face or his head in a couple days.

 

“Sir,” he said, asking permission.

 

Ipha swallowed, worked her way to her feet. Toppled back down on the box and cursed.

 

“Sir!” He came to help her, bless him. He came to help. “Just... just sit down, alright? I... I wanted to tell you, because I need you to understand this. I know why you made the call you did. And you made the right call. Ava knew. She and I... we'd talked. She knew what it was to be a soldier. She knew it was going to be dangerous and neither of us wanted to stop any of it. She made her choice, I made mine. You made yours, and it was right. Sir.”

 

Ipha stared down at her feet thinking of Jaxo begging for her life in her final moments. Jaxo hadn't wanted to die. She didn't want to give her life for the Republic she served. She'd cried, she'd begged. Ipha had killed her anyway.

 

Jorgan didn't need to know any of that.

 

When he stood, she tracked his movements. “Jorgan,” she rasped when he was just far enough away. “I hope someday you mean that.”

 

He looked back at her, the sadness on his face a weight in her heart. Then he was gone. There wasn't enough booze.

 

 

Author's Note

 

That was harder than I thought to write.

 

Edited by Morgani
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What If....

 

Ipha and Jorgan.

 

 

Had there been another way?

 

Was there any other choice than to break his heart?

 

Major Ipha Kodrevas let the empty brew bottle fall out of her hand and thunk on the floor. It rolled to join the other five she'd already consumed. It wasn't enough.

 

She'd liked Jaxo. The woman was funny, she was charismatic, she'd wanted to be friends. Ipha would have been okay with that, until she'd found out that Jaxo had seduced Jorgan. She hadn't seen it at first. The evenings he'd disappear, the trips he'd make to Black Sun territory during their station on Coruscant. She was his superior officer. She'd never pushed him to tell her where he was going. Even when her feelings became something other than superior to subordinate she'd never made him verbalize who called on the holo, why he made side trips to Coruscant in those early days.

 

She had put two and two together not long after Dorne had joined the Squad. She had innocently questioned Ipha about who was putting the stars in the Sergeant's eyes. The realization had hit her like a metric ton of plastisteel.

 

She'd tried to make him jealous on Nar Shaddaa. Agent Jonas Balkar with his wit and his flirtatious eyes. Jorgan had nearly lost his temper, informing her to do it on her personal time. It was the anger she wanted, but not the reason she'd wanted. Hurt and furious, her affair with Balkar had been whirlwind and passionate. She'd let it die the day they transferred off the Hutta moon. Balkar never contacted her in a personal manner again.

 

She began sending Jorgan away more and more. He had this diplomatic streak under all that tawny fur and corded muscle. She would send him to negotiate for her. Any planet, any moon, for anything, just to get him off the ship and off her mind.

 

Even when she knew Jaxo would make time to go see him, or he'd stop off to spend time with her. She still sent him away, heart broken.

 

Tanno Vik became a constant companion. He affected her attitude, she knew it. But he was smart, and strong, and his dark sarcasm amused her. He twisted her just a little and she liked not being quite herself because she wouldn't have to think of Jorgan wrapped around Ava Jaxo.

 

Jaxo had tried to extend the peace branch. Woman's intuition or whatever, Jaxo knew there was tension between them. Ipha had agreed to a night out with Jaxo and her friends, though she wasn't sure why. Jaxo had waited until everyone had left and cautiously approached Ipha. Jaxo laid it all out in a rushed breath, words nearly tripping over each other. How much she was in love with Aric. How if she had known back then maybe she wouldn't have made a move.

 

Ipha had been disgusted with herself. She'd told Jaxo that Jorgan was going to be with who he wanted and there wasn't a thing she could do to change his mind. She'd accepted that he didn't have feelings for her. She'd almost meant it. She let herself part on good terms with Jaxo, a tentative friendship budding between the women. Even Jorgan was more casual around her. It had almost been good.

 

So could she had made another decision?

 

The brew bottle was empty again. It dangled between her fingers and she stared into the brown glass.

 

Three hundred people were alive because she'd made the call she'd made. Ava Jaxo was dead.

 

Jorgan's heart was broken. She'd done that. She'd done that to him. It broke her own heart.

 

She wasn't a terrible person, was she? She'd just... made the call. Three hundred for one. The good of the many. She'd made the call because there were more lives at stake than she wanted on her shoulders. Was that selfish?

 

The knock on the cargo bay door made her head shoot up. She squinted and tried to focus, her heart dropping into her knees when she saw Jorgan standing there. He was eyeing the brew bottles, all... what now? Seven of them? He looked drawn and haggard. He hadn't shaved either his face or his head in a couple days.

 

“Sir,” he said, asking permission.

 

Ipha swallowed, worked her way to her feet. Toppled back down on the box and cursed.

 

“Sir!” He came to help her, bless him. He came to help. “Just... just sit down, alright? I... I wanted to tell you, because I need you to understand this. I know why you made the call you did. And you made the right call. Ava knew. She and I... we'd talked. She knew what it was to be a soldier. She knew it was going to be dangerous and neither of us wanted to stop any of it. She made her choice, I made mine. You made yours, and it was right. Sir.”

 

Ipha stared down at her feet thinking of Jaxo begging for her life in her final moments. Jaxo hadn't wanted to die. She didn't want to give her life for the Republic she served. She'd cried, she'd begged. Ipha had killed her anyway.

 

Jorgan didn't need to know any of that.

 

When he stood, she tracked his movements. “Jorgan,” she rasped when he was just far enough away. “I hope someday you mean that.”

 

He looked back at her, the sadness on his face a weight in her heart. Then he was gone. There wasn't enough booze.

 

 

Author's Note

 

That was harder than I thought to write.

 

Ugh, so rough, and so good.

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What If....

 

Ipha and Jorgan.

 

Edit: Sorry, I should have mentioned spoilery for beginning of Ch 3? Whenever A-77 happens.

 

 

Had there been another way?

 

Was there any other choice than to break his heart?

 

Major Ipha Kodrevas let the empty brew bottle fall out of her hand and thunk on the floor. It rolled to join the other five she'd already consumed. It wasn't enough.

 

She'd liked Jaxo. The woman was funny, she was charismatic, she'd wanted to be friends. Ipha would have been okay with that, until she'd found out that Jaxo had seduced Jorgan. She hadn't seen it at first. The evenings he'd disappear, the trips he'd make to Black Sun territory during their station on Coruscant. She was his superior officer. She'd never pushed him to tell her where he was going. Even when her feelings became something other than superior to subordinate she'd never made him verbalize who called on the holo, why he made side trips to Coruscant in those early days.

 

She had put two and two together not long after Dorne had joined the Squad. She had innocently questioned Ipha about who was putting the stars in the Sergeant's eyes. The realization had hit her like a metric ton of plastisteel.

 

She'd tried to make him jealous on Nar Shaddaa. Agent Jonas Balkar with his wit and his flirtatious eyes. Jorgan had nearly lost his temper, informing her to do it on her personal time. It was the anger she wanted, but not the reason she'd wanted. Hurt and furious, her affair with Balkar had been whirlwind and passionate. She'd let it die the day they transferred off the Hutta moon. Balkar never contacted her in a personal manner again.

 

She began sending Jorgan away more and more. He had this diplomatic streak under all that tawny fur and corded muscle. She would send him to negotiate for her. Any planet, any moon, for anything, just to get him off the ship and off her mind.

 

Even when she knew Jaxo would make time to go see him, or he'd stop off to spend time with her. She still sent him away, heart broken.

 

Tanno Vik became a constant companion. He affected her attitude, she knew it. But he was smart, and strong, and his dark sarcasm amused her. He twisted her just a little and she liked not being quite herself because she wouldn't have to think of Jorgan wrapped around Ava Jaxo.

 

Jaxo had tried to extend the peace branch. Woman's intuition or whatever, Jaxo knew there was tension between them. Ipha had agreed to a night out with Jaxo and her friends, though she wasn't sure why. Jaxo had waited until everyone had left and cautiously approached Ipha. Jaxo laid it all out in a rushed breath, words nearly tripping over each other. How much she was in love with Aric. How if she had known back then maybe she wouldn't have made a move.

 

Ipha had been disgusted with herself. She'd told Jaxo that Jorgan was going to be with who he wanted and there wasn't a thing she could do to change his mind. She'd accepted that he didn't have feelings for her. She'd almost meant it. She let herself part on good terms with Jaxo, a tentative friendship budding between the women. Even Jorgan was more casual around her. It had almost been good.

 

So could she had made another decision?

 

The brew bottle was empty again. It dangled between her fingers and she stared into the brown glass.

 

Three hundred people were alive because she'd made the call she'd made. Ava Jaxo was dead.

 

Jorgan's heart was broken. She'd done that. She'd done that to him. It broke her own heart.

 

She wasn't a terrible person, was she? She'd just... made the call. Three hundred for one. The good of the many. She'd made the call because there were more lives at stake than she wanted on her shoulders. Was that selfish?

 

The knock on the cargo bay door made her head shoot up. She squinted and tried to focus, her heart dropping into her knees when she saw Jorgan standing there. He was eyeing the brew bottles, all... what now? Seven of them? He looked drawn and haggard. He hadn't shaved either his face or his head in a couple days.

 

“Sir,” he said, asking permission.

 

Ipha swallowed, worked her way to her feet. Toppled back down on the box and cursed.

 

“Sir!” He came to help her, bless him. He came to help. “Just... just sit down, alright? I... I wanted to tell you, because I need you to understand this. I know why you made the call you did. And you made the right call. Ava knew. She and I... we'd talked. She knew what it was to be a soldier. She knew it was going to be dangerous and neither of us wanted to stop any of it. She made her choice, I made mine. You made yours, and it was right. Sir.”

 

Ipha stared down at her feet thinking of Jaxo begging for her life in her final moments. Jaxo hadn't wanted to die. She didn't want to give her life for the Republic she served. She'd cried, she'd begged. Ipha had killed her anyway.

 

Jorgan didn't need to know any of that.

 

When he stood, she tracked his movements. “Jorgan,” she rasped when he was just far enough away. “I hope someday you mean that.”

 

He looked back at her, the sadness on his face a weight in her heart. Then he was gone. There wasn't enough booze.

 

 

Author's Note

 

That was harder than I thought to write.

 

That was a very emotional part of the trooper storyline as it was, you brought it to life, Morgani. Well done.

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What If....

 

Ipha and Jorgan.

 

Edit: Sorry, I should have mentioned spoilery for beginning of Ch 3? Whenever A-77 happens.

 

Author's Note

 

That was harder than I thought to write.

I'm sitting here making pained noises.

That was one of those wrenching parts of the game. I remember sitting on my ship afterward, not roleplaying or anything, just running through it in my head over and over again and I didn't even LIKE Jaxo. But that was WAY worse because of the loss of Jorgan's romance AND hurting him (which makes me wonder about my selfish tendencies). And it all hurt, cause you have some darn good writing skills!

 

 

And THANK GOODNESS that's not how it actually goes!!! lol!! <Hugs Aric very tight to her>

Edited by iamthehoyden
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What If....

 

Ipha and Jorgan.

 

Edit: Sorry, I should have mentioned spoilery for beginning of Ch 3? Whenever A-77 happens.

 

I just want to hug Ipha and Jorgan right now. *HUGS*

<3

 

 

 

Why is it I choose to write incredibly dumb things when everyone is so poignant? I'm like one of those people who always dresses wrong for everything! :p

 

 

 

Back to all the stuff so far. Awesome.

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I just want to hug Ipha and Jorgan right now. *HUGS*

<3

 

 

 

Why is it I choose to write incredibly dumb things when everyone is so poignant? I'm like one of those people who always dresses wrong for everything! :p

 

 

 

Back to all the stuff so far. Awesome.

Your's was so funny, I giggled the whole way through :)

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