Jump to content

The Short Fic Weekly Challenge Thread!


elliotcat

Recommended Posts

Story Index by Character

Authors S-Z

(Authors A-F are here)

(Authors G-K are here)

(Authors L-R are here)

 

Selentar

(The Story So Far)

 

Lilith: What's in a Name? (with Vector), What If? (with Vector and Doctor Lokin), Brothers and Sisters (with Doctor Lokin), Parenthood (with Doctor Lokin), Bad Timing (with Kaliyo), Hidden Talents (with Vector), Worlds Colliding (with Vector), The Morning After (with Kaliyo), Enemies (alongside Xania, with Talos and the Agent crew), Communication Breakdown (with Lokin)

 

Taren: Confessions (alongside Xania)

 

Xanara: Mission Accomplished (with Andronikos and Talos), Firsts

 

Xania: Worlds Colliding (with Andronikos), Family (alongside Xareen'alay), Teachers and Heroes (with Ashara), Confessions (with Andronikos), Enemies (alongside Lilith, with Talos and the Agent crew), Hide and Seek, Transportation (with Andronikos), Confessions (alongside Taren)

 

Xareen-alay: Loneliness/Solitude, Seasons, Seasons (alongside Taren), Family (alongside Xania)

 

Xarides and Nezumiiro: Children

 

Companions: Vices and Virtues (with SCORPIO, Quinn, DS Jaesa, and Mako)

 

 

 

Striges

(Cast picture)

(The Story So Far)

 

There Once Was a Hutt Who Swallowed a Gorg

 

Jesp Rixik: Confessions (alongside Kirya, with Corso), Health (alongside Korjonos), First Impressions (alongside Korjonos), Guilty Pleasures (alongside Korjonos), Health/Communication Breakdown (with Mako and 2V-R8), What's in a Name?, What If? (alongside Kirya, with Corso), Worst Day Ever (Kirya POV), Worst Day Ever (Rixik POV), Brothers and Sisters (with Gault), Bad Timing, Teachers and Heroes , Best Day Ever, Food, Food, Worlds Colliding, Virtues (alongside Kirya), Virtues, Do the Math (guest Andalar), Home Ec (with Skadge), Discoveries (with Mako), Tools of the Trade (with Mako), As Time Goes By, Laws and Governance, Enemies, The Morning After (with Mako and Kaliyo), Alternate Perspective, Transportation (alongside Andalar)

 

Kirya Bilali: Confessions (alongside Rixik, with Corso), Catching Up and Mixing it Up (guest starring Valden and Andalar), Guilty Pleasures (with Akaavi), What If? (alongside Kirya, with Corso), Firsts, Worst Day Ever (Kirya POV), Worst Day Ever (Rixik POV) Ceremonies (with Corso) expanding to Ceremonies 2 (with Corso), Best Day Ever (with Corso), Virtues (alongside Rixik and Andalar), Deadly Sins (with Risha), Ceremonies (with Corso), To Market, To Market (with Corso), To Market, To Market (with Corso), To Market, To Market (with Vette, Quinn, and Pierce), Fashion (with Risha and Corso)

 

Jealousy: Food (with Khem Val)

 

Jurial: Virtues, Home Ec, Teachers and Heroes, As Time Goes By/Rites of Passage, First Day on the Job, Alternate Perspective, Stomping Grounds, Climate and Weather, Enemies

 

Korjonos: Health (alongside Rixik), First Impressions (alongside Rixik), Guilty Pleasures (alongside Rixik)

 

Sha'ra'zaed (Schehe’ra’zaede): Confessions (with Doctor Lokin), Family (with Vector), Celebrations (with the Agent crew), What If?, Changes/New Paths, Brothers and Sisters, Xenobiology (with Doctor Lokin and Vector), Worlds Colliding (with Kaliyo), Loneliness/Solitude (with Kaliyo), Do the Math, Alternate Perspective, Mirror, Mirror/The Morning After (with Vector), Music (with Vector)

 

Varrel Umrahiel: Allies (alongside Xathras, with Vette) Rites of Passage (with Jaesa), Rites of Passage, Dreams and Nightmares, Discovery (with Quinn), Firsts, What If? (with Quinn and Jaesa), Like No One's Watching (with Vette and Jaesa), Ceremonies, Parenthood, Bad Timing (with Quinn), Teachers and Heroes, Disguises

(with Vette), Seasons (with Jaesa and Pierce), Deadly Sins, Deadly Sins (with Jaesa), What If? (alongside Valho and Vashtari), What If?, Allies/I Love This bar (alongside Xathras), Mirror, Mirror, April Fool (with Vette)

 

Vashutarl Umrahiel: LF1M (alongside Kughel), Mirror, Mirror, Celebrations

 

Kughel: LF1M (alongside Vashutarl), The Story So Far

 

HK-51 and SCORPIO: Droids

 

 

 

SveinEternity

Azra: Family

(alongside Svein), Discovery (alongside Ardon, with Mako), What If?

 

Ardon: Discovery (alongside Azra, with Mako)

 

Mila and Mira Stariser: Seasons, Virtues, Deadly Sins

 

Svein: Family (alongside Azra),

Canned Responses/Family (with the Sith Warrior crew), Guilty Pleasures (with the Sith Warrior crew), Guilty Pleasures (alongside Verana, with Vette), (Un)Invited Guests

(alongside Verana), What If? (with the Sith Warrior crew)

 

Verana: Guilty Pleasures (alongside Svein, with Vette), (Un)Invited Guests (alongside Svein),

What's in a Name?, Worst Day Ever, Worst Day Ever, Changes

 

Vette and Quinn: Affection/Ceremonies

 

 

 

Tatile

(The Story So Far)

 

Master Ashari: Catching Up

 

Amilia'n and Stion'n: Allies, Confessions, Rites of Passage, Guilty Pleasures, Family part 1, Family part 2 (alongside Rochester, Broan, Benedicta, and Sylvia/Lord Vizloch), To Market, To Market (alongside Jaci), Fashion

 

Benedicta: Confessions (alongside Sylvia/Lord Vizloch), Exploration (alongside Rochester and Broan), Family part 1, Family part 2 (alongside Rochester, Broan, Amilia'n, Stion'n, and Sylvia/Lord Vizloch)

 

Broan/Lord Naught: Catching Up, What's in a Name?, What If?, Turning Point, Teachers and Heroes (alongside Lord Vizloch), Worlds Colliding (alongside Lord Vizloch), Loneliness/Solitude, I Love This Bar/Worst Day Ever (alongside Jothar), Teachers and Heroes, Laws and Governance, Legacy, Culture Shock, Turning Point (alongside Masters Ashari and Istier), Memories, Hide and Seek, Head of the Class

 

Rochester: Rites of Passage, Worst Day Ever, Brothers and Sisters, Teachers and Heroes, Best Day Ever (alongside Sylvia/Lord Vizloch), Disguises, Loneliness/Solitude, Disguises, Alternate Perspective, LF1M, Climate and Weather, Mirror, Mirror, Food (alongside Jaci), Grooming, Grooming, Food, Alternate Perspective (alongside Sylvia/Lord Vizloch)

 

Rochester and Broan: Culture Shock, Allies, Confessions, Rites of Passage, First Impressions, Health, Communication Breakdown, Exploration (alongside Benedicta), Dreams and Nightmares, Family part 1, Family part 2 (alongside Amilia'n, Stion'n, Benedicta, and Sylvia/Lord Vizloch), Guilty Pleasures, Firsts, Changes/New Paths, (Un)Invited Guests, Bad Timing, Fame, Xenobiology, Disguises, Loneliness/Solitude, Food, Seasons, Tools of the Trade, Virtues, Do the Math, Home Ec, Loyalty, Discoveries, Confessions, Best Day Ever, Music, Life and Death, Affection, Food

 

Grigor: Affection (alongside Sylvia/Lord Vizloch)

 

Sylvia/Lord Vizloch: Confessions (alongside Benedicta), Family part 1, Family part 2 (alongside Rochester, Broan, Benedicta, Amilia'n, and Stion'n), Affection (alongside Grigor), Teachers and Heroes (alongside Broan), Teachers and Heroes, Best Day Ever (alongside Rochester and Benedicta), Worlds Colliding (alongside Broan), Alternate Perspective (alongside Rochester)

 

Jaci: Loneliness/Solitude, To Market, To Market (with Amilia'n and Stion'n), Food (alongside Rochester)

 

Z’dinne O’Hara: Turning Point

 

 

 

thatghost

Drakkach: /As Time Goes By/Celebration (with Temple), Like No One's Watching (with Temple)

 

Mirrigan: Deadly Sins, I Love This Bar (with Doc, Scourge, and Rusk), Mission Accomplished (with Lord Scourge)

 

 

 

Tonxix

Ton-xix: The Story So Far

 

 

Vesaniae

(Cast pictures! And more!)

Sunset!verse ensemble: Celebrations

 

A'tro: Guilty Pleasures (with Quinn), Celebrations (with Quinn), Brothers and Sisters (alongside K'saria), Affection (assume Quinn hereafter unless otherwise noted), Best Day Ever, Home Ec, Like No One's Watching, Climate and Weather (with Quinn)

 

Clarielle Elysra: Worst Day Ever

 

K'saria: Brothers and Sisters (alongside A'tro)

 

Darth Nox: Parenthood

 

Rhysven D'Anshir: Fame (with Kira), Deadly Sins (with Kira)

 

Thaera (Mitth’aer’akuesa): Discovery, Family (alongside Thylen)

 

Thylen: Family (alongside Thaera)

 

Vesania: What's in a Name?, Teachers and Heroes (with Watcher Ninety)

 

Lyshara and Lynet Vrine: Brothers and Sisters

 

Iriath: Enemies, Worst Day Ever, Dreams and Nightmares (alongside Lynore)

 

Vrintessia Alamar-Iriath: First Impressions (with Vette and Quinn), Guilty Pleasures, Backfired Plans, Changes/New Paths

 

Quinn’s cowlick: Grooming

 

 

 

YoshiRaphElan

(The Story So Far)

 

Aaran (with T8-H4): Virtues, Droids, (Un)Invited Guests, To Market, To Market

 

Dha, Prudii, and Briika: Memories 1, Memories 2

 

Prudii: Memories 3, Guilty Pleasures, Head of the Class

 

Dha: Family, Allies, Parenthood/What's in a Name (with Mako)

 

Dankin and Dha: To Market, To Market, Celebrations

 

Dankin: Fashion (with Corso), Transportation, Enemies (with Corso)

 

Merok: Hide and Seek (with Temple), Life and Death (with the Agent crew)

 

Sydin: Membership

 

Jasin: Virtues, Fame

 

Jett: Culture Shock

 

Tran’thar: Deadly Sins

 

 

 

Zethrodek

Anyzama: What's in a Name?

 

Azydria: What's in a Name?

 

Xynri: What's in a Name?, Guilty Pleasures/Health, What If? (alongside Zethryncia)

 

Zethryncia: Allies, What If? (alongside Xynri)

 

 

 

As ever, please PM me if I've screwed up any of your links or character names.

 

(For my own reference: index current through post #3278. 1074 stories.)

Edited by bright_ephemera
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Prompts to come this evening!

 

For now, I've been in a bit of a funk outside one storyline. And I got stuck on Vierce's Alderaan some time ago. So what I'm going to do is finish up some of Vierce's Alderaanian scraps, not worry about his main plot line, and move on from there.

 

So I have a Night of the Living Prompt: What's in a Name? 100 words. Spoilers for a term bandied about very early on Republic Alderaan.

 

 

 

I stopped once Havoc Squad had gotten well outside the huge Alderaanian palace. "So," I said, still mentally unpacking the speech and assignment we had just gotten from our local contact. "Duke Organa."

 

"Duke Organa," agreed Jorgan.

 

"Officially appointing us, uh, paladins."

 

"Remind me to add that to my resume," said Jorgan.

 

"I will. Weirdly enough, it's already on mine." Jorgan gave me a curious look, so I went on. "Girl back home used to say that my 'gallivanting around righting wrongs' made me a certifiable paladin. Unlike Duke Organa she was mocking me, but, the job description was there."

 

"Can't say I'm surprised, sir."

 

"Yeah. Well, come on, then. There's wrongs to right."

 

 

 

And then Night of the Living Prompt: Dreams. 250 words, no spoilers.

 

 

 

After a big meal in the state room Duke Organa had lent us – me, Jorgan, and Dorne – talk came around to life after the war.

 

Jorgan was nursing the same beer he had started the evening with. "Figure I'll settle down someplace with my girl," he was saying. "Thank the Stars, now that she's seen Coruscant she isn't anxious to go back to Ord Mantell. So we'll go someplace nice. She can do her architect thing. I'll get, I don't know yet, some kind of job that lets me stay close to home. It'll be good." He jerked his head my way. "What about you?"

 

"I'm staying in the service."

 

"Somehow I'm not surprised. Though you might think after, what, seventeen years fighting, you wouldn't want to try something a little more relaxing?"

 

"Fighting's all I've ever done. It suits me. Don't give me that look. Maybe after we've wiped out the Empire completely I'll retire, huh? Settle down on Dromund Kaas, find some beachfront property. They have beaches on Dromund Kaas?"

 

"Not sure. I've never been," Jorgan deadpanned.

 

"They have muddy patches between the usual rocks near some of the parasite-infested bodies of water, sir," reported Dorne. "I think 'beach' might be an overly generous term."

 

"Well, there goes that plan." I stretched and shrugged. "Army life it is."

 

"Heh," said Jorgan. "And you, Dorne?"

 

"I expect I'll continue to serve once the war is over. My skill set is suited to it."

 

"You two." The Cathar shook his head. "Havoc Squad is set for life."

 

 

 

 

WHY ARE YOU REFERRING TO HER AND ME WITH THE SAME TERM, 'YOU TWO.' STOP THAT AT ONCE.

 

...*cough* I mean, everything's fine. Yup.

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

And now...is six posts in a row breaking a record? Or, for that matter, a rule?...finally, I've been quiet for a while but I have caught up on reading. Wall of reaction text incoming. (Edited 2:42 EST because I'm a twit and missed a spot.)

 

 

 

@QwibQwib, Briel's surprise at the absurd occurrence of a Sith apologizing is just so...Imperial. And his worst day, your descriptions of, well, a lousy day in Kaas City, were very evocative. Moving on to Valdr's background, there's a childlike awfulness to his "I'd seen recordings of [Valdr's mother] facing down rancors and krayt dragons, but I'd never seen her even so much as flinch. I didn't understand at the time why a single man could scare her so."

 

@irishfino, you continue to make Vette heartwrenching. I can so see her energetic anger when she gets to "That’s funny, because as soon as you boarded the ship, Ald sat me down. We had a nice long talk about our future together and – get this – there isn’t one!” And then, worse, "Ald was her biggest failure and damned if she couldn’t leave him." Also your license to use Covert Armor has been revoked. Just so you know.

 

@iamthehoyden, I love that Gault has a head on his shoulders. "Bad idea, Magrave, bad idea." Followed by the truly wonderful "I was jumping ship before you were born. Think I don't know a jump when I see one?" Also, Crae crazy. But he's been changed by this encounter, too...ah, but to move along to a different kind of crazy, Quinn. So. Quinn. I...will not say I've ever taken that attitude toward some leisure activities because of course that would be anal retentive and ridiculous, naturally, of course. Completely. Ha ha, who glares at the checklists? Not me! :D And the Kaarde reunion...<3 So much protectiveness to go with the awkward!

 

@kabeone, Remi going to visit the families...this is something I never even thought about, the fallout from what the Knight spoilered during that sequence. Ow. Ah, and then Scourge being not-helpful with the rocks. That's so him.

 

@EverSteam, Leer's litany of charges had me giggling throughout. I have a devastating weakness for long rap sheets. No, I don't know why :p

 

@Milani, Alli..."She can go home, to Csilla. Grow up to be a respectable Chiss woman.. not an exile, like me." Dreams for one's children :(

 

@Tatile, Broan's treatise reads a lot like coming home to someone with some grounding in classic philosophers :D And then to move on to codified racism...yech. Yech, yet entirely fitting to the culture.

 

@thatghost, the image of Drakkach's household with Raina is just heartwarming. Loved it.

 

@Isoviel, I did some major lip-biting when I realized Ennaly's current cargo was blasters...because, hon, that means game timeline, and the game timeline isn't gonna make your life any simpler. Also, um, I sympathize more than I really care to dwell on with Ennaly's makeup travails. :rolleyes: Now, when it comes to finding targets, opsec on the Holonet...of course army forces would be bad at it. Also, crushing on Khem Val is totally normal if you're chaotic evil.

 

@Striges, your Laws piece is terribly Imperial. And once again Rixik's experience of life is achingly clear: "There were a lot of people he’d enjoy shoving out an airlock without a suit, but Captain Chalee wasn’t one of them. Greedy, sure, but who wasn’t? She’d signed him as crew, not tried to sell him. He’d even gotten paid this time. Only a 32nd share, but it was more than zero." That's about as good as it gets, isn't it? In your Jurial piece, your Yuon Par makes me feel vaguely guilty for every time I was young and impatiently thinking that my elders were willfully missing the point. Yuon's got her own worries.

 

@Ves, I snickered. Maliciously. '"That doesn't mean that I..." He glanced over his shoulder at Kira and whispered, "Help?"' and then Kira's "will you sign my—" :D

 

@thatghost, Scourge's misery is delicious. I mean, sad. Very, very sad.

 

@LogicLoup, I loved the original Corellia zoo piece, and these two followups are just as strong. Andren reflecting that the flutterplumes are carrion-eaters, and Maneera's first two sentences are just such a vivid introduction to her voice. It doesn't let up from there. "Look how much she doesn’t care. Just *look*." Love it.

 

EDIT: @Morgani, wonderful to see you back. I love Zenith even more now that I've had a chance to play the Consular line, and hearing Tess'iri's side of this story was wonderful.

 

 

Edited by bright_ephemera
Link to comment
Share on other sites

 

I stopped once Havoc Squad had gotten well outside the huge Alderaanian palace. "So," I said, still mentally unpacking the speech and assignment we had just gotten from our local contact. "Duke Organa."

 

"Duke Organa," agreed Jorgan.

 

"Officially appointing us, uh, paladins."

 

"Remind me to add that to my resume," said Jorgan.

Haha! Love it :D

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Week of 1/11/13

 

All right, the Night of the Living Prompt remains active (previous prompts here) for those of us who are late with our ideas!

 

Cross-pollinating from the AU Thread we have 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. What are those goals? Who do our characters want to be?

 

For something new, try Behind the Scenes - Things aren't always as they seem, some events never look obvious, and wherever there's a curtain there may well be a man behind it. Write about what's really going on behind the scenes of your character's story.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

I wrote this way back when Like No One's Watching was the current prompt, which would be...the first week of September. Wow. Anyway, it took me all this time to finally decide that yes, I wanted to post this piece. :rolleyes: I suppose that it might fit a bit better under some other prompt, but I'm going to keep it with the one it was originally written for because...because I can.

 

So, here goes. Night of the Living Prompt - Like No One's Watching. Features A'tro and Quinn, takes place during some unspecified interlude of time in the middle of Afterimages. I never did stick a date on this thing. Probably some time between the first and second arcs, for those who have a) read my fic and b) care. :D

 

And now, our feature presentation! I should probably mention that there are spoilers within, for that delightful part of SW ch 3 that we all just have to write about! :D

 

 

A’tro had the dream again.

 

Perhaps ‘nightmare’ would be a more accurate term for it. It was certainly enough to send her jolting awake, adrenaline pulsing through her veins, her eyes wide with horror.

 

She couldn’t go back to sleep, not with…that…still dancing on the backs of her eyelids, mocking her every time she tried to rest again. So she got up, careful not to disturb Quinn, and made her way out into the Alecto’s common room.

 

It was just the two of them on the ship, so she did not have to worry about being disturbed. She sat down on one of the footstools, resting her chin on her hands. Her exposed skin pri ckled with cold; she was wearing only a slip, and Quinn liked to keep the interior temperatures low.

 

A’tro sighed softly. She couldn’t get it out of her head. She, the Emperor’s Wrath, who feared so little in the galaxy, was haunted by a dream, of all things… It was pathetic.

 

The transponder station.

 

“How could you do this to me?” she demanded, the smoldering shards of the war droids enveloping her in a veil of smoke. “I thought you loved me!”

 

Quinn smiled. “A simple enough deception,” he said in a voice as cold and distant as the icy darkness between the stars. “You fell for it easily enough.”

 

“So I never meant anything to you? This was all a lie?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Grief and rage welled up inside her, and she drew on the Force, lashing out blindly at the one who had hurt her so.

 

And then Quinn lay motionless on the floor, his blue eyes wide and glazed in death. She ran to him, taking his hand in hers.

 

“I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to—I’m so sorry—please, don’t leave me, don’t leave me here alone…”

 

But he did not stir, and she clutched his lifeless body against her and whispered his name over and over again as tears ran down her face…

 

A’tro shivered, more from the memory than the cold. Every night, it was the same. She was never sure which hurt more, the thought that Quinn had lied about his feelings for her, or the thought of him dead at her hands.

 

Either way, when the dream ended, she was always utterly alone.

 

A’tro covered her face with her hands, her shoulders shaking as she tried to suppress the tears that she could feel welling up behind her closed eyelids. She had to be strong. She did not dare turn to Quinn for comfort; she would die of shame if he ever discovered how weak she truly was.

 

In the end, her will was insufficient. She sat on the stool, cold and lonely, and cried silently in the dark.

 

 

 

Quinn awoke to find that A’tro was gone. When she did not return after several minutes, he got up and walked out to the common room.

 

She was there, perched on a stool, her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking. Quinn watched her for several long moments, wondering what to do. Every human instinct he had screamed at him to go to her, to see what was wrong.

 

But somehow, the thought of walking across the stretch of empty space between the two of them unnerved him. He felt as if he would be intruding, somehow, entering a place where he was not welcome.

 

He cursed himself for cowardice, and tried to move closer, but instead he found himself going quietly back into the bedroom and leaving her there alone.

 

After a few minutes, she returned, slipping into the bed beside him and wrapping herself around him. Her skin was freezing cold, and he could feel moisture on her cheeks where she rested her head against him.

 

Quinn feigned sleep, not wanting her to realize that he had abandoned her there with whatever was troubling her. She seemed to derive some small comfort from his presence; eventually her breathing fell into the steady rhythm of sleep.

 

Feelings of guilt and self-loathing kept him awake for the rest of the night.

 

 

Notes:

It's been so long since I wrote this, I can't even remember my original intentions for this piece. Perhaps it was an attempt to prove that I am well aware that Quinn is a cold, unfeeling jerk? :rolleyes: Honestly, I have no idea. Although it does illustrate two points of interest that I tried to make clear in my fic and failed miserably at:

1. A'tro only ever cries because of Quinn.

2. A'tro would never cry in front of Quinn.

And apart from that, I'm really not sure what the point of this was. Oh, well.

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Super late reply storm

 

@LogicLoup I loved the first version of Maneera's story seeing it from all 3 perspectives was very neat. It also shows no matter what you see, what someone is feeling or thinking may be completely different.

 

@Striges Ugh Master Yuon, I just can't like her at all. She hid so much and no one benefited from it. Argl and that was my opinion before your piece :D One thing I never thought of though was how distracted she was by her own problems that she couldn't focus on helping her padawan the way she probably should have. I do love Jurial though, his philosophical bent is wonderful to read about.

 

... and Hepoul is infuriating. He's like a little microcosm of everything wrong with the Empire but doesn't realize it.

 

@QwibQwib poor briel o.O

 

@Irrissa I love how protective Randall always seems to have been. I would love to read more about them in any universe alternate or otherwise (not hinting... ok maybe a little)

 

@Fino *snerk* new clothes... *snerk*

 

@iamthehoyden Hilarious and so very Quinn :) Use number #987234 for Lord Scourge: "Make almost any other boyfriend look like a good choice."

 

@bright_ephemera

"You two." The Cathar shook his head. "Havoc Squad is set for life."

:D foreshadowing? or has the romance started already?

 

Edit:

 

@Ves poor stiff upper lip Imperials :D

Edited by kabeone
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Hello again :o

Though I don't comment much, I am reading everything and loving everything. :o

 

Prompt: Behind the Scenes

Class: Bounty Hunter

Words: 250ish

No spoilers.

 

Just a very short piece of what my BH is doing 'behind the scenes' in my fanfic The Life That's Left when she isn't... well, grieving, killing or destroying I suppose.

 

 

 

I walk through the streets in civilian clothes, my wrist guards that I never remove hidden under a long shirt and large gloves. A squad of Republic soldiers drive past and I resist the urge to pull my hat further down. They don't look at the scungy, unattractive farmer's wife twice.

 

I take a small side road and walk through the ankle deep mud and water. Ord Mantell is disgusting. But at least it's not Hutta. I turn down a path to the first farm. I don't knock on the door. I pull out one of the many parcels from one of my bags and leave it on the doorstep. It has food, seeds, two thousand credits and two blasters.

 

I repeat the action for every still occupied house along the winding street until it becomes too dark. I camp off the road. In the morning, I stop to help an alone, old farmer in his field. I give him the package in person. Then I continue.

 

When I make it back to the main city, I am forty thousand credits poorer. Not much when compared to my other... gifts? Donations? Price? on other planets.

 

Whatever the name, it doesn't change the feelings behind it or anything that's happened. And it doesn't change what is still happening. A few more happy families or orphans aren't enough to outweigh the ones being made. It doesn't atone for what happened on Manaan. It doesn't atone for anything.

 

But I will try like I always do.

 

I make my way to the Republic base. I don't have to atone for what I'm about to do. This is my justice.

 

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

I wrote this way back when Like No One's Watching was the current prompt, which would be...the first week of September. Wow. Anyway, it took me all this time to finally decide that yes, I wanted to post this piece. :rolleyes: I suppose that it might fit a bit better under some other prompt, but I'm going to keep it with the one it was originally written for because...because I can.

 

So, here goes. Night of the Living Prompt - Like No One's Watching. Features A'tro and Quinn, takes place during some unspecified interlude of time in the middle of Afterimages. I never did stick a date on this thing. Probably some time between the first and second arcs, for those who have a) read my fic and b) care. :D

 

And now, our feature presentation! I should probably mention that there are spoilers within, for that delightful part of SW ch 3 that we all just have to write about! :D

 

 

A’tro had the dream again.

 

Perhaps ‘nightmare’ would be a more accurate term for it. It was certainly enough to send her jolting awake, adrenaline pulsing through her veins, her eyes wide with horror.

 

She couldn’t go back to sleep, not with…that…still dancing on the backs of her eyelids, mocking her every time she tried to rest again. So she got up, careful not to disturb Quinn, and made her way out into the Alecto’s common room.

 

It was just the two of them on the ship, so she did not have to worry about being disturbed. She sat down on one of the footstools, resting her chin on her hands. Her exposed skin pri ckled with cold; she was wearing only a slip, and Quinn liked to keep the interior temperatures low.

 

A’tro sighed softly. She couldn’t get it out of her head. She, the Emperor’s Wrath, who feared so little in the galaxy, was haunted by a dream, of all things… It was pathetic.

 

The transponder station.

 

“How could you do this to me?” she demanded, the smoldering shards of the war droids enveloping her in a veil of smoke. “I thought you loved me!”

 

Quinn smiled. “A simple enough deception,” he said in a voice as cold and distant as the icy darkness between the stars. “You fell for it easily enough.”

 

“So I never meant anything to you? This was all a lie?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Grief and rage welled up inside her, and she drew on the Force, lashing out blindly at the one who had hurt her so.

 

And then Quinn lay motionless on the floor, his blue eyes wide and glazed in death. She ran to him, taking his hand in hers.

 

“I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to—I’m so sorry—please, don’t leave me, don’t leave me here alone…”

 

But he did not stir, and she clutched his lifeless body against her and whispered his name over and over again as tears ran down her face…

 

A’tro shivered, more from the memory than the cold. Every night, it was the same. She was never sure which hurt more, the thought that Quinn had lied about his feelings for her, or the thought of him dead at her hands.

 

Either way, when the dream ended, she was always utterly alone.

 

A’tro covered her face with her hands, her shoulders shaking as she tried to suppress the tears that she could feel welling up behind her closed eyelids. She had to be strong. She did not dare turn to Quinn for comfort; she would die of shame if he ever discovered how weak she truly was.

 

In the end, her will was insufficient. She sat on the stool, cold and lonely, and cried silently in the dark.

 

 

 

Quinn awoke to find that A’tro was gone. When she did not return after several minutes, he got up and walked out to the common room.

 

She was there, perched on a stool, her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking. Quinn watched her for several long moments, wondering what to do. Every human instinct he had screamed at him to go to her, to see what was wrong.

 

But somehow, the thought of walking across the stretch of empty space between the two of them unnerved him. He felt as if he would be intruding, somehow, entering a place where he was not welcome.

 

He cursed himself for cowardice, and tried to move closer, but instead he found himself going quietly back into the bedroom and leaving her there alone.

 

After a few minutes, she returned, slipping into the bed beside him and wrapping herself around him. Her skin was freezing cold, and he could feel moisture on her cheeks where she rested her head against him.

 

Quinn feigned sleep, not wanting her to realize that he had abandoned her there with whatever was troubling her. She seemed to derive some small comfort from his presence; eventually her breathing fell into the steady rhythm of sleep.

 

Feelings of guilt and self-loathing kept him awake for the rest of the night.

 

 

Notes:

It's been so long since I wrote this, I can't even remember my original intentions for this piece. Perhaps it was an attempt to prove that I am well aware that Quinn is a cold, unfeeling jerk? :rolleyes: Honestly, I have no idea. Although it does illustrate two points of interest that I tried to make clear in my fic and failed miserably at:

1. A'tro only ever cries because of Quinn.

2. A'tro would never cry in front of Quinn.

And apart from that, I'm really not sure what the point of this was. Oh, well.

 

 

This was great Ves. Would have fit well with the Perspective prompt too. I could feel how lonely each one was

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Prompt – Stomping Grounds.

Sorry for the lateness from last weeks prompt. I can't believe its Friday again already

 

Featuring Cielle, Bounty Hunter Very minor BH Spoiler for end of story.

 

For some context you can see why these are Cielle's stomping grounds from this story -Not My Choice

 

 

 

Cielle stepped out of the the starport and adjusted her brown leather jacket surreptitiously and patted the blaster in the inner pocket. She always hated to go anywhere off the ship without a full set of armor on. Made her feel naked and vulnerable. Though she had been assured by Janarus that her record was purged, there still was always a chance someone might still recognize her and go after her for revenge. Especially here in the heart of Republic.

 

A haze covered covered the skies of Coruscant. More buildings filled the skyline than she remembered. The rebuilding had come a long way. From here the city looked gleaming and prosperous. Casually she sauntered down the ramp to the taxi stand. She gave the droid the destination address with immediate instructions to not talk. She really didn't want to hear the standard warnings of the dangers of the area she was head towards

 

As they flew out of the shiny new part of the city into the darker depths, she mused in silence the difference between Kaas City and Coruscant. Dromund Kaas was a planet of swamps and oceans, the sky filled with violent storms. Still she loved the wild beauty of the planet, able to sit for hours watching the lightning play across the sky. To her Kaas city was an oasis of order, in the midst of the chaos of the planet. The streets were clean and orderly, the citizens well mannered, and if they weren't, well lets just say it wasn't tolerated in the city.

 

The contrast truly struck her as she entered the neighborhood she lived in as a child with her foster-mother. She saw numerous people shuffling quickly around, avoiding the eyes of anyone they passed. She passed a couple of Justicars bullying a Devaronian that reminder her of Gault only in looks. That one was on his knees, hands in front of him in a protective stance. Something you would never see Gault doing. Another group of Justicars looked her over but she met their eyes squarely, just daring them to start something with her. Sensing she wasn't easy pickings they turned away to find someone they could bully.

 

She stopped in front of the entrance to the apartment building they had lived in. Veshok Apartments. She could barely read the name on the sign that still hung above the doorway. It wasn't high class when she lived there and was less so now. Toying with the idea of going in, Cielle decided against it. There was no one and nothing to see in their anymore.

 

Wandering down the street, she stopped into the old shop that belonged to Fieler Dan. To her surprise the feisty old woman was still working behind the counter.

 

“I remember you” she said in a gruff voice “Been a long time. Still like Ruby Bliel?” She pulled a couple of bottles out. “Surprised you came back. Hear you been working for the Imperials”

 

Cielle took the offered bottle. The first sip brought back the memory of a cocky overconfident youngster. “Nope” she replied “I work for me. And credits” Fieler Dan just chuckled and they finished their drinks in silence.

 

She sat the empty bottle down, and turned to go. Fieler Dan addressed Cielle's back, “Braedon's a trooper now, with the Republic Army. Renata has her own shop down in the Senate Commercial District. She is quite the saleswoman. She can talk anyone into about anything” Cielle paused then continued to walk out the door. When Fieler Dan picked up the empty bottle she saw the pile of credit chips Cielle had left next to it.

 

Without consciously thinking about it,Cielle directed the taxi to take her to dock area still run by Black Sun. Rumor had Theraguin still kept a watch over the area. She really didn't want to see him but felt compelled to go back to the area. The taxi took off almost before she had completely exited the vehicle. She stood and watched the neighborhood thugs slink around a bit, before deciding this was totally a bad idea.

 

Out of the corner of her eye,she saw a couple of adolescent kids in the shadows of the entrance of the local hydro-supply station. They were scavenging for supplies, survival. That could have been her had things gone differently. Walking over to where they were trying to blend into the scenery, she just tossed the older one a small sack with some credit chips in it. He caught it deftly and the the small group scurried off into the darkness. Cielle sighed softly.

 

“How long have you been following me?” she called over her shoulder. Torian stepped out of the shadows.

 

“Since you landed on planet. You know I'll always have your six” He pulled her around to look at him and brushed the tear off her cheek. “You can't go home again you know”

 

“This isn't home, never was. My home is with you and Mako, Blizz, even Gault, bless his lil black heart. I just wanted to remind myself how bad it is under the shiny surface the Republic presents to the galaxy. And that I made the right decision.”

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

ee, Friday rush!

 

First, feedback:

 

@Ves, A'tro. Just...A'tro. I like how Quinn handles this...I mean, I don't like it, but it seems to suit him.

 

@kabe, no romance for Vierce and Elara yet. Cease-fire, though, after reasonably productive Tatooine and Alderaan. They're not really up to talking one on one or anything.

 

@Eversteam, I love the final line of that piece. Killer.

 

@Irrissa, the NPCs have a future! And a life! And Fieler Dan is...yup, doin' her thing. I see her lasting a long, long time.

 

 

This Night of the Living Prompt: Allies piece occurs immediately after Vierce finishes Act 1 break. No spoilers. 800 words.

 

 

 

I touched down in Coruscant Military District B Spaceport, Docking Bay 32, and grabbed my bag. The plan was a few days here with old friends in the service who couldn't make it back to Kegled II at the moment, also maybe drinks with pretty Sergeant Jaxo; after that I would go on home.

 

To my surprise…and, I'll admit, in light of my crew debarking right then, slight discomfort…the friends I had called to get together with had skipped the rendezvous point and come to the hangar. I was greeted straight off the ramp by an armful of strawberry-blonde energy who set about kissing me in her signature shameless style.

 

When she let me up for air I took her waist and gently set her down on the ground. "Why yes, Eddy, I am single at the moment, thank you for checking before–"

 

She hopped up and kissed me again. That's Eddy. "We'll have fun," she cooed, and bounced away.

 

Jorgan was making a peculiar strangled sound that I will not try to describe. He managed close to a straight face when I turned to him. "We'll just head out, sir," he said.

 

I looked to Dorne and realized that dealing with her in front of a gaggle of Kegled resistance veterans would be a disaster. They'd tear her to pieces. I turned just enough to hide the hand signal for silence from my friends. She nodded and kept her mouth shut. I nodded back as apologetically as I could and then looked back to Jorgan. "See you in two weeks."

 

The two of them went on their way. I approached the waiting gang. I hugged willowy Vrenda, nodded at saturnine Rizz, gave clasped hand/one-shoulder hug things to Dep and Flash.

 

I stepped back and took a second to look Flash over. He was nearly my height, lanky, red-haired and hawk-nosed. Part of his nose was now covered in a smooth black metallic shell, one that extended over one eye and across to his ear and some of his scalp. Set into that gleaming surface, a red cybernetic eye moved opposite his natural brown one.

 

"So which cyborg jokes haven't you heard yet?" I asked him.

 

"Heard 'em all before I even got out of the medcenter. Don't worry, you can recycle. Tell you one thing, though? I thought you were lucky they had the supplies to save your eye in the old blast. Nuh-uh, not anymore. You have got to try one of these things." He pointed at the artificial eye. "That way they coulda saved the kolto for keeping the rest of your face pretty."

 

"'f I got any prettier the ladies wouldn't let me get any work done." That was mostly funny for being a complete lie. "So, where do we start?"

 

"You could start by telling me about Sergeant Gorgeous there," said black-haired Dep, nodding after where Dorne had gone.

 

Ah, Dep's priorities. "Not a chance," I said. "Way, way off-limits."

 

"Don't tell me you converted to the school of not looking at the women in your cell. She's just your type."

 

Flash caught the look on my face, even if he misguessed the reason for it. "Stars, Dep," he said, "do you even think before words come out of your mouth?"

 

Dep shrugged. "Not seeing the problem. What are the odds lightning strikes twice?"

 

And kills a comrade-turned-girlfriend, assuming I were stupid enough to set myself up for that again? I scowled at him. "That depends on how much time you spend dressing up in bronzium and dancing on skyscrapers during thunderstorms, doesn't it? End of speculation." They didn't need to know that any surface parallels between Dorne and…well, anybody…were the least of my problems with her. For now I just wanted to relax. "You can still ask inappropriate questions about Jorgan, though."

 

"Hmph. I bet he doesn't even leave furballs," said Eddy. "The Cathar in our squad doesn't leave furballs. That was a huge disappointment."

 

Flash gave her a crooked grin. "Think of the poor cleaning droid, Eddy. I bet he's grateful."

 

"Oh," said Eddy. "Do not start. The C2-N2 model we have? I don't want him grateful. I would synthesize hairballs to drop all over the ship if I thought it would make him sad."

 

"You know what this conversation needs?" interjected Dep. "Drinks. Come on, Classic Shots."

 

We had gone there all the time while stationed at the base nearby; it was my traditional role to make some kind of complaint against the joint. "Could you possibly pick a bigger dive?"

 

"Dive's the point. Reminds me of Ye Olde Bomb Shelter back home."

 

"Don't pretend it doesn't," Vrenda told me in her husky voice.

 

"The resemblance might be there," I conceded. "A little. But the girls you meet at the Classic aren't nearly as good-looking."

 

Vrenda nodded, accepting that tribute. "I'm glad the exalted commander of Havoc Squad still knows his place."

 

"You know me. I don't forget." I set an arm around Eddy's shoulders and grinned down at her. "Let's go then."

 

 

 

 

So what's the bigger jerk move: letting Dorne deal with a guaranteed hostile audience, or actually ordering her to shut up just because Vierce's friends are around?

 

Anyway these people don't have much bearing on the main plot as such. They're just the folks Vierce grew up with.

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

*back with a vengeance* Vierce's Stomping Grounds piece occurs during the post-Act 1 break and contains spoilers for Trooper Act 1 and some early Dorne conversations. Dammit, I almost had a prompt out on time and then Friday happened. Ah, well. 1600 words.

 

 

 

My heart lifted to see West Ford City drifting up toward our shuttle. After the excitement of the mess that was the Tavus chase, it was good to come home.

 

I grabbed a rented speeder at the spaceport and headed straight home. Mama's house had been at the outskirts of town once; the burst of development after the occupation ended had caused the city to close in around her, but she kept her little low house and its garden just as they've always been.

 

Mama greeted me at the door with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Welcome home, Captain."

 

"Ha. Good to see you, Mama." I stepped in and looked around at the old place, neat, nothing flashy, every furnishing chosen to last. "Where's your gentleman caller?"

 

Mama smiled. With dimples. "He's keeping the shop open tonight. He'll be around to see you tomorrow."

 

"Looking forward to it."

 

When I reached the dining room I found Kirsk brazenly sampling the cookies on the sideboard. "Hey there," he said. "Heard something about your schedule, thought I'd swing by."

 

"Still alive, huh? And taking dessert early. Nice to see you. Insult any Hutts lately?"

 

"Nah, that got old. Besides which I can't really show my face in Hutt space to insult any more of them right now."

 

"So nothing's changed. Great."

 

We chattered, Kirsk offering some highly sanitized accounts of his adventures, while Mama finished prepping dinner. And then, once we all sat down, Kirsk just had to start in on me.

 

"So Vierce. How are the kids? How's the dynamic defector duo?"

 

Mama's eyes widened in a cross of amusement and curiosity. "The who?"

 

"Big brother's squadmate here, Sergeant Dorne. She and her brother are Imps, came into the service just recently."

 

"Kirsk!" I looked down and fiddled with my napkin. "Sorry, Mama."

 

"Sorry? For what?"

 

For that thing I didn't mean to admit to anybody on this planet? "I wasn't going to bring her up. She's former Imperial, like Kirsk said, but I can't exactly get rid of her."

 

"She's a nice girl," said Kirsk. "Stiffer'n starched support beams, but she's all right."

 

"I don't doubt she is," said Mama. "She must be very good to be in Havoc Squad."

 

"Yeah," I said gruffly.

 

Mama looked at me while I was busily not looking at her. "Did you expect me to be angry, Vierce?" she said gently.

 

"That I'm working side by side with an Imp? Yes." I made the effort to make eye contact again. "Yes, I expect everyone here to hate that." Easy to say Dorne wasn't all bad when I was out working with her, but here on the old grounds…here it was something different.

 

"Son…I'm getting older," said Mama. She tucked her greying forelock behind some of the still-mostly-brown hair further back. Then she smiled. "Not much older, but older. And I'm finding that I don't have much hate left to give. I save it for the people who earn it individually. Besides, if she's serving with you she can't be all bad."

 

"My CO didn't give me a choice."

 

"Vierce. No authority on this planet or any other has ever stopped you from righting what you saw as a wrong. If she's with you, it's because she earned your permission."

 

"You've never tried to argue with General Garza." I poked unhappily at my vegetables for a few moments. "She's good," I said reluctantly. "I'm just not proud of letting one of them in."

 

Mama looked at me thoughtfully for a long time. Finally she said "Can I tell you something?"

 

"Sure," I said.

 

"During the occupation you spent most of your time away from the normal parts of the city. The normal parts of life. Lots of people came though my shop, lots of them were regulars. Our people and Imperials both. And the Imperials weren't all hateful maniacs. Most of them just wanted some kaff and maybe a smokestick. Your work, it was right. It was necessary. But it kept you in contact with the angriest and the worst of them. You fought it back. But I promise you, the rest of us weren't living in terror absolutely every day." She patted my hand. "Except on your behalf. I believe some Imperials aren't all bad, and I believe anyone both sensible and brave enough to come to our side should be congratulated."

 

She might have a point. I just wasn't sure how many others around here would see it that way. "I guess we'll see," I said.

 

"Progress," said Kirsk. "Don't worry, Mama, we'll drive some sense into him yet."

 

After that the conversation finally went over to the city, the shop, home things, news of Totten and the other locals. I always remember life going slow here…tough at times, yes, but slow…but I'd been away long enough that things had still had a chance to happen.

 

We finished our meals and Mama cleared the table, waving me away when I tried to help. Benefits of being a guest, I guess. After that she excused herself to sleep.

 

The moment she was out of the room Kirsk turned to me and leaned in, his shoulders hunched up tense. "So," he said. "Glend."

 

"Uh," I said. That would be the man who had been seeing Mama for the last year or so, not that Kirsk and I had been around much to talk to him. "Glend?"

 

"We grill him tomorrow. Agreed? We need to figure out what his deal is. I scoured his records again. He looks completely clean."

 

"Maybe he is clean. An upstanding citizen who happens to like our very likeable mother."

 

"He's up to something! He's probably in it to steal the shop. You know how much work she's put into it."

 

"He's not going to steal anything."

 

"You don't know that." Kirsk chewed his lip for a few seconds, something I haven't seen him do in years. "I don't trust him."

 

"You make no sense, Kirsk."

 

"What?"

 

"Just over dinner you said you're fine with forgiving the Imperial who's shot at our friends, but now you can't trust a perfectly nice man giving Mama some comfort?"

 

"I don't trust him suckering her into a relationship."

 

"She deserves some happiness. After all she's been through, to finally have something of life go on? It's good."

 

"Now you're making no sense."

 

"What?"

 

"You're the king of brooding over past grievances. But when it comes to Mama you're the lead cheerleader for getting over it?"

 

"What good would it do having her sit alone?"

 

"You tell me, big brother. Since you're so keen on life going on, when's the last time you went to see a girl?"

 

I gave him a warning look. "Had a perfectly nice dinner on Coruscant three days ago."

 

"Eddy doesn't count."

 

"It wasn't Eddy."

 

Kirsk raised his eyebrows. "Oh?" he said, his voice dripping disbelief. "Met someone, did you? Name, rank, and serial number, or I'll know you're just making it up."

 

"Ava Jaxo, Sergeant, four nine six seven something. Smart*ss."

 

"You couldn't even be bothered to make up your imaginary date's entire serial number. That's just sad, brother."

 

"You want to tell me you're doing better? Meet any nice girls lately?"

 

"Loads. Scads. It's great."

 

"All right. How many of those girls would sooner slap you than kiss you at the moment?"

 

Kirsk got shifty-eyed. "That's a very different question. Also unfair."

 

"Could you call someone right now who wouldn't immediately give you an earful?"

 

"This has nothing to do with anything, Vierce."

 

"Uh-huh." I did love seeing him scowl. "Don't fret. If you've really run yourself out of options, I could set you up with this former Imperial you seem to be really sweet on."

 

"Stars, no thanks. It'd be too much like dating you."

 

"Now what is that supposed to mean?"

 

"Overly serious. Overly–" he dramatically placed a hand over his heart – "Duty Bound. She even talks like you."

 

"Uh. No."

 

"Uh, yeah. Remember when we were all together on Nar Shaddaa? What was that job you were doing just before I came on board?"

 

"Kirsk, that's sensitive information. You know I'm not authorized to answer."

 

He leaned back looking smug. "See? You talk just like her."

 

"No, I – that was cheap!"

 

"Cheap is a specialty of mine. Anyway, you never answered earlier: How is the good sergeant doing?"

 

"She's alive."

 

"Nice, real nice. And her brother?"

 

"How am I supposed to know?"

 

"Ah. I thought maybe you talked to your own crew sometimes. Or at least kept some kind of tabs on Aleksei. He seemed like a nice enough guy when we brought him in."

 

"I didn't really notice."

 

Kirsk rolled his eyes. "Okay, moving on. How about the guy on your ship you can stand?"

 

"Forex?" I said stubbornly.

 

"Ouch. Have a fight with Jorgan or something?"

 

"No, far from it. We're good. He's good. Actually the reason I was delayed coming here was helping him out with some stuff."

 

"Oh? What was that?"

 

"That's sensitive information." I may have stuck out my tongue at him. A little bit.

 

Kirsk rolled his eyes again. "Brother, I've been from one end of this galaxy to the other, I've seen a lot of amazing stuff, but you remain the most colossal prig I have ever met."

 

"Yeah, yeah. So, bumper ball?" I jerked my head in the general direction of the downtown arcade.

 

His grin lit up the room. "You're on."

 

 

Edited by bright_ephemera
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Well, this is my first contribution to this thread, so correct me if I'm doing something wrong. This one was done a late-night writing binge, so I hope you can ignore any writing errors. It's a Zombie of the Stomping Grounds prompt. Figured someone should respond to that one, and I didn't see anything for it. And my FemBH seemed to fit the bill.

 

Things you need to know about her: Her name's Zasch, she's Mirialian, she's married to Torian, but is NOT a Mandolorian(thinks they are a little silly), and she's mostly lightside. Mostly.

 

 

When his new wife ordered Gault and Mako halt the ship mid-jump after reading her mail, Torian didn't ask why. He could tell it was something she didn't want to talk about. The way she stood, her arms folded under her armor's breastplate and her silent, emotionless face made it clear that she wasn't interested in a discussion. And as soon as Mako said the new course was locked in, she walked down to her workstation and began assembling a new gun barrel she'd stopped working on weeks ago.

 

Mako said that their destination was some urbanized moon in a backwater system called Derrelia. It would be a solid day's journey, even at .2 past lightspeed, so Torian passed the time sparring the Skadge(about the only thing the Houk was up for, most of the time). After a shower, he went to sleep in the bed he now shared with his wife every night. He woke up to find her lying next to him six hours later. It still amazed him just how...pleasant that was.

 

But he could tell she was still awake. Her breathing was just a little less steady when she slept than it was now. With a smooth warrior's movement he wrapped her in his arms. She grasped his hand gratefully, and was asleep in minutes. No words were said. They weren't needed between them. And even after a solid night of sleep, Torian felt himself drifting off to sleep again, his wife's warmth leaning against his own.

 

When he awoke again, he was alone. After donning his armor, he walked out to see Blizz tinkering with 2V-R8's wiring. He still had that plan of making the factotum droid into a solid combat model. Gault was leaning against the loading ramp door, an exasperated look on his face.

 

"I just don't get what's so important," he said, "I've never even heard of this moon, and we left Ceego the Hutt's contract just lying out there for the next bounty hunter to snatch up. That's a payday we haven't seen since Correlia!"

 

Mako's light tone answered from her sitting position on the ship's central staricase, "Gault, she likes credits more than you do. So if she says it's important, then it's important."

 

"Still," came Skadge's gruff voice from next to the storage lockers, "Gotta be something on this dump worth doin'. I'll check the local cantina. See if there's a fight to get into, or a job that needs done."

 

"If the boss lets you, you mean," said Mako, "she doesn't like you wandering off, Skadge."

 

Skadge laughed haughtily, "I'd like to see her try and stop me."

 

"You're not the only one," said Torian with a smile, "Of course, she may just decide to dump you on this planet and take off. Then where would you be?"

 

Skadge folded his arms, "A step or two behind her. She knows I'd track her down. Got a lot of dough on this lady bein' the next big name in this galaxy. If she thinks I'm going to let her get that kind of famous without lettin' me in on the take, she's got another thing comin'"

 

Mako sighed, sharing an exasperated look with Torian, "Honestly, I don't know wh-."

 

Strong, steady steps from the second level of the ship silenced everyone.Torian's wife tended to have that effect on people. It took either a very brave person or a very stupid one not recognize her power. Her electrum-bonded mercenary's armor, her staunch warrior's stance. She even moved like a person who could take on anything and laugh while doing it. It was that attitude, more than anything else, that made Torian fall in love with her.

 

"We're here," she said shortly, "Torian, you're with me. Gault, Mako, go pick up some provisions. Prices should be pretty good here, but don't go near the lower streets. Skadge, you do whatever, just be back by the time we punch out. Everybody clear?"

 

Everyone nodded, and began to clear out.

 

Torian's wife walked over to Blizz, who was still concentrated on his work with 2V-R8, "Watch the ship, little man. Kay?"

 

Blizz nodded exitedly, "Blizz make sure nobody sneak on. Pay more attention to guarding, less on work. Never happen again. Promise!"

 

She let one of her rare smiles seep onto her face, but it was more distant and hollow than others that Torian had seen her give. She put on her helmet, an off-Mandolorian brand Torian had bought her shortly after he signed onto her crew. He still hadn't convinced her to wear actual Mandolorian armor, since she still wasn't Mandolorian. But he had yet to see her wear a different helmet since.

 

And once he put on his own helmet, they were in their own little world, the two of them. Perfectly in sync, the bond that only watching each other's backs(in every possible way) could bring. A private comm channel, monitors of each others' vitals. Technology and personal chemistry, blended into an extremely lethal combination. No one could match them in a fight, and they both knew it. These days, they took on contracts no one else would touch for pay only the elite of the galaxy could afford.

 

Which is why Torian found it a little shocking when she led him to a small, nondescript building in the middle of the slums and told him to wait outside. The moon was just like any other urban planet Torian had every seen, though they reminded him mostly of Nar Shaddaa. It was a metal jungle, just as dangerous as the natural type. He knew his wife could handle herself, but concern still crept into his chest. And she could sense it, even if her helmet didn't register his increased heart rate.

 

"I'll be fine, love," she said, "be back before you know it."

 

Torian nodded, "Be careful, cyare."

 

And so, he waited. No words from her, though hear heart stayed true and steady on his helmet monitor. When at last she walked outside, she was carrying a small tin, no bigger than a blaster rifle's power cell.

 

After a short pause, she said, "Let's take a walk. No helmets."

 

Torian shrugged, pulling his helmet off and tucking it under his left arm. His wife did the same with hers.

 

The streets weren't too bad on the walkway they were on now. But as she led him deeper into the urban jungle, he could feel predatory eyes on them. At last, they stopped outside a designated 'bum' area, where dozens of burning trash and refuse piles littered and dark, dank street.

 

"You asked me, once", she said, "why I joined the Great Hunt. I never really gave you an answer. You ready to know?"

 

"I'm ready for anything you wanna tell me, cyare." Torian answered.

 

His wife smiled that same sad smile, "I'll try not to drone on. Forgive me if I do. I just figured that, if anyone should know, it should be my husband. The last person who already knew who I was before all of this...."

 

She held up the small tin, giving it a little shake. Torian heard the distinct sound of a powder-like substance inside. Ashes.

 

"This is all that's left of him. And his mind had gone long before that."

 

Torian stayed silent, unsure about what he was about to hear. But he wanted to know, all the same.

 

"He was a local doctor here. My mother was a drug addict he tried to 'help', but she died just after I was born. He never did tell me whether he was my real father or not, but he always treated me like his own daughter. And he taught me everything he knew about his craft."

 

Torian smiled, "I always did wonder how where got your skill with kolto."

 

His wife shrugged, "He was a good teacher. And he made GREAT kafee. Also, he wasn't afraid of the local gangs because they needed the healthcare he practically gave away. Course, that's what got him, in the end. Once one of the gangs decides that they can take losing the services you provide, as long as their competitors lose them as well....they bomb your clinic. Kill your patients. take everything you own or care for. Leave you with nothing, not even your mind."

 

Torian ached to put his hand on his wife's shoulder, but resisted. She was a strong woman, and not fond of physical affection. At least, not in public. And Torian he wasn't sure if she wanted him to touch her right now.

 

"He was never the same, afterward," she said wistfully, "The other local doctors tried to help. You can heal tissue all you want, but there's only so much you can do for a mind. They said it was a bad skull fracture. His body was there, but the damage to the brain was permanent. The most they could do was keep his body there, a drooling mess. I was fourteen, at the time."

 

The laugh that escaped her lips was something Torian had never heard from her before. It was mirthless, it was tired....and it was angry.

 

"I had never held a gun before. My father abhorred the things. But the next morning I went to one of the local shop owners who pointed me to a few honorable types who knew how to use them. I spent the next seven years learning anything any of them would teach me. And when I turned twenty-one, I decided it was time. I walked through the streets my father used to practice medicine in. And I killed them."

 

"Them?" Torian asked.

 

"All of them," she said, "Every last gangster I knew had a hand in the attack, even if they only let it happen. Took me two years to wipe them from the planet. And every time, I left a calling card."

 

She took out one of the small kolto vials she used on a daily basis to keep Torian from bleeding out after a fight. On the vial was the street address of the building she had visited earlier.

 

"Each time, I left one of these. They would lead the gangs to the building where my father's broken husk of a body was left on a respirator and a feeding tube."

 

Torian could feel the cold rage in her voice, something that could bring fear into anyone. Torian thanked the Force it wasn't directed at him.

 

"Near the end, some of them even figured it out. Some tried to run. some tried to hide. Most begged for mercy before the end. And the death I gave them was the only mercy I could find for them. More mercy then they had for my father, anyway."

 

At last, she breathed a heavy sigh, "Course, once I was done, the local gangs had plenty of beefs with me. A lot of people out for my head. Spent two years on the run, living in hidey holes in the gutters, in the sewers. In cheap hotels, when I could afford them. That's when Braden found me. The rest, as they say, is history."

 

She cleared her throat, her breath catching for a moment, "So I've been waiting to close the books on this for a while. I figured that my father's living corpse would serve a reminder to the gangs not to blow up any more clinics. Might do some good. But there's only so long you can keep a body going before it give out. So that's what I'm here to do today."

 

She motioned to the decrepit streets around them, "My old hunting grounds, for whatever they're worth. Figured I'd show them to you, before I vow never to set foot on this rock ever again."

 

Torian was silent for a few moments making sure that his wife had said what she wanted to day. Then he spoke.

 

"You are more Mandolorian than you know, cyare."

 

"Well, I married one. Shouldn't be a shock that I have some similar traits."

 

Torian nodded, "Yes, but it goes deeper than that. Your drive to avenge your clan, and your father. That's very Mandolorian."

 

She shrugged, "I always thought I was just being a good daughter."

 

Torian nodded, a smile across his face, "Exactly."

 

Finally giving in to the urge he had been resisting, Torain put his hand on his wife's shoulder and turned her to face him, "Now, as I'm a proper Mandolorian husband, might I suggest a...day trip? Through your old stomping grounds? Wipe out a gang of thugs or two? It'll make you feel better."

 

Zasch smiled, looking down at her helmet's impassive expression, and then at her husband.

 

"It might at that."

 

 

Edited by CastonFolarus
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Well, this is my first contribution to this thread, so correct me if I'm doing something wrong. This one was done a late-night writing binge, so I hope you can ignore any writing errors. It's a Zombie of the Stomping Grounds prompt. Figured someone should respond to that one, and I didn't see anything for it. And my FemBH seemed to fit the bill.

 

Tabs don't stay in the formatting. Please add an extra space between paragraphs for ease of reading.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Hi everyone! This is another Ennaly story. Its short just 230 words.

 

Prompt: Goals and Ambitions

 

 

 

Corso and Ennaly were trudging through Belsavis in silence. The silence was getting awkward and it was up to Corso to break it.

 

“So, Captain, do you have any long term plans for the future?” He wanted to take her mind off of yesterday. It seemed to be an innocent enough question.

 

“Hmmm… My goals are to eradicate every pirate and sith from the known universe; then I’m going to expose the jedi as the sanctimonious, hypocrites that they are,” Ennaly looked back at Corso, he stopped awhile back and just looked stunned. “Oh, you didn’t want an honest answer?” That stunned look was still there. “Enough about me, What about you? You must have plans for the future.”

 

“Well Captain, after that I must say that my plans involve keeping you alive for as long as possible when you go on crusade,” He caught up with her and they continued walking. “But why would you go after the jedi?”

 

“I’ll tell you when we get off Belsavis,”

 

They continued walking in silence with Corso looking questioningly at Ennaly ans Ennaly pretending to ignore him and trying not to cry.

 

“Maybe I should go after the jedi first,” Ennaly was whispered.

 

“You say something Captain?”

 

“No, onward to the end of this miserable place,” She gave him a smile and walked with more of the usual bounce in her step.

 

 

Author notes:

Ennaly has gotten good at hiding her emotions over the last couple of years. I just wish the reason she hates jedi wasn't so sad. Why must she have problems! Why couldn't she have been a cheerful psychopath like Etonya! Why!

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

This was going to be What's in a Name? but my muse went NOPE LOL :D and so it just barely fits in with Discovery.

 

Rochester and Broan, taking place in the timeline after New Paths.

 

 

 

Broan waited as the holocall patched through. He idly drummed his fingers on the desk, trying to control his nervousness. The Ascendant Traipse was supposed to be in orbit above Dromund Kaas by now, if not having actually touched down. That meant it had been a week since he had last spoken to or seen Lieutenant Windthorpe, and a week since he had asked about his personal affects. It had been a stupid excuse then - he did not have any personal affects, not really - perhaps Lieutenant Windthorpe had realised that Jedi did not have knickknacks?

 

The connection failed.

 

A wave of panic overcame Broan and he started to feel lightheaded. The Lieutenant was the son of his master! Had he spoken to her, let Lord Vizloch know that he was talking to Imperial officers about non-war related subjects? Was that allowed? Had the Lieutenant recorded the call and shown it to her, to make him look weak?

 

Maybe he was weak, after all: a padawan, a disinterested Jedi, who had come to the Empire filled with nothing but fear, who had been given a name and a title before being shoved in a cupboard in a tower. The title, the name, all of it was a mockery of who he was - of who he was not.

 

The holocommunicator lit up. The beeping sent his panic spiralling, becoming almost palpable. He fumbled with the device, trying desperately to calm himself and managed, somehow, to answer.

 

"My Lord?" The Lieutenant appeared, washed out and semi-transparent. There was nothing in him that could suggest he was thinking of anything untoward. Broan nodded and sniffed, attempting to recapture the air of a Sith. "My apologies for not answering you call immediately, my Lord, but my duties had required my full attention. I am at your disposal now, however." The Lieutenant made a stiff little salute and a stiff little bow - or so Broan could only assume, as the image was only of the chest up.

 

"Lieutenant," Broan let out a breath to rid himself of that annoying squeak. "When we last spoke, I asked if any of my personal effects from the Absolution had been put into your care. Where you able to locate them?"

 

"Indeed I have, my Lord," Broan sat a little straighter, a little shocked at this. "There are only a few articles, though, my Lord. I could list them, if you wish?" Broan nodded, trying to remember what he had had aboard the Absolution. "There are two sets of Jedi robes, presumably in your size, one new, one worn. Ten dataslides of various different subjects - they have not been examined or opened, my Lord. There is also, my Lord, one Jedi holocron. Like the dataslides, no attempt has been made by the Imperial Navy to access it as of yet, but notes have been made about its exceptional beauty."

 

"Thank you, Lieutenant."

 

"A pleasure to be of service, my Lord." The Lieutenant bowed and for a moment, Broan thought he saw a playful smile on the man's face.

 

"Have all the items delivered to me, Lieutenant, as soon as possible."

 

"I will escort them personally, my Lord."

 

The words slipped out before Broan realised what he was saying: "Thank you, Rochester."

 

There was a second of awkward silence and then Broan slammed his finger onto the holocommunicator, ending the call abruptly and all but threw it across the room. Panic gripped him again and he began to compulsively pace about the room. Surely, surely now...

 

#

 

Rochester looked at the holocommunicator in his hand and smiled slightly. He was sure now, very sure indeed, that the ex-Jedi 'Lord Naught' had something of a crush on him.

 

 

 

Notes:

Yeah, that last item of "exceptional beauty"? It's not his.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Ves - A'tro is such an interesting character. I think I've mentioned before, but she's very Sithy in the way she values strength and not being seen as weak. And Quinn not quite knowing what to do and erring on the side of cold - typical, lol.

 

EverSteam - An unexpected piece to her. Nice :)

 

Irrissa - Nice contrast between Pub and Imp. And returning NPCs! Always fun :)

 

Bright - Vierce being prodded into admitting Elara is okay by family was just funny. Him telling her to be quiet at the spaceport - you coward Vierce. The progress is fabulous, very awkward and stumbling so when there is a bright spot it really shines.

 

CastonFolarus - Welcome to the thread! I like your bounty hunter and you really got the voices of the crew down. Good stuff! Boy, we sure are on a bounty hunter kick lately hehe

 

Isoviel - Girl doesn't think small, lol. Big goals there.

 

Tatile - D'awww the heart-pounding 'does he like me' stage, very cute :)

Link to comment
Share on other sites

NoTLP: Prompt – First Impressions

 

Introducing Cleindori – Jedi Knight * Spoilers for JK class story Balmorra *

*Cleindori is a Mirialan, she strictly follows the Jedi code and its accompanying tenets. Having been raised as most Mirialans to believe her actions bear directly on her and her peoples destiny she is very conservative in her behavior and is always very focused on her assigned tasks.*

 

 

Journal Entry: Post Balmorra Mission

 

My mission to recover the cloaking prototype has been successful and I seemed to have acquired a new crew member.

 

In pursuit of the device I came in contact with a combat medic working with the Resistance here on Balmorra. He calls himself Doc. He still hasn't admitted to his real name. Something that makes me wary. After we were forced to negotiate with resistance forces to obtain the prototype device he decided he no longer wanted to be affiliated with the resistance and asked to join me.

 

I find the man strangely puzzling. My initial contact with him was when I was sent in response to a distress call sent by a resistance medical facility. He was oddly over familiar with me,referring to me as gorgeous and being what I believe is to be considered flirtatious behavior.

 

I admit it took me aback quite a bit. Even as a padawan non force users were normally very respectful. Those that were not tended to be those I had to subdue anyway. His overly familiar attitude was quite off-putting. Circumstances of the mission seemed to bring us together over and over again to achieve my objective. Considering his rather conniving personality I am not entirely convinced that he did not arrange for this to happen.

 

I would be far more suspicious of his motivations but I do admit I am impressed by the fact that he does seem to genuinely care about helping injured and ill people no matter the circumstance as evidenced by the situation we encountered in Sobrik with the Imperial squad.

 

I consulted with Master Braga about bringing this man aboard my ship as part of my crew. Due to the dangerous nature of my tasks he felt that an experienced combat medic and surgeon would be a valuable member of my crew despite his attitude and questionable background. I don't know that I am entirely comfortable with this but he does seem to be a competent doctor. That will be handy but I think I will install a new lock on the door to my quarters.

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Well, ladies and gentlemen, we are up over 700 stories in this thread!

 

CastonFolarus, welcome to the thread! :D This may be the first time I've ever seen Skadge get a treatment slightly more eloquent than a wrecking ball. Zasch's character background is really cool, and the depth of her partnership with Torian shows in every paragraph.

 

Isoviel...oh, Corso. You are such an innocent.

 

Tatile, is it bad that I wondered how much of Rochester's smile was satisfaction at maneuvering into place? I don't think his motivation was all sweetness and personal concern at this point.

 

Irrissa, a sheltered Jedi really would be taken aback at Doc..."attitude and questionable background, indeed." Cleindori, you poor poor creature. :D

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Character Creation

This is a story about the galaxy I created for my characters. I believe that character creation is the most awsome thing ever. So today I've decided to write describing the details of my first character of the series: Jedi Ton-xix; the first true jedi shadow & the rumored myth of the force overlord. *Im latin, so probably I won't be an excelent writer.:) "

 

 

Ton-xix was not named after his parents or any of his kin. He was named after a code a droid gave him when he was a baby. He never knew his real parents, he was raised by a droid named serie c-a-a-9-x. Some say even, that he never had any parents. Some jedi believed he came out of the pure will of the force. The other ones didn't trust him & believed he was a clone, or that somehow he was created by the sith to spy on the jedi.

 

Jedi Ton-xix was trained as a jedi & history remembers him as one jedi with the most powerful conection to the force. He also was believed to be one of the Overlords of the galaxy (which are the ones that live on a planet sustained by the force itself, where they balance the force between the light & the dark sides) which had almost the same resemblence to "the chosen one" .

 

Jedi Ton-xix believed he knew the "secrets of the force" . He said in one ocation to the students Shei-Kra & A-Tila (others of my main characters); that the force was not a power intended for beings like humans or any other races & species because beings act on pure will, which can use the power of the force acording to their choices being; good or evil. He believed that the force was an entity that attached to living things for some reasons unknown & that it was used for creating life. That same force that may as well been the one responsable for the origins of the existance of life in the galaxies. Jedi Ton-xix was faced with so much sorrow, darkness, more tough decisions & a lot of attachments which made him even stonger than before.

 

Finally that being said, Jedi Ton-xix's powers were so strong, the jedi & even the sith, saw him as a threat. He became excluded form the jedi training grounds to be taken to exile on a high security prison on belsavis, but he escaped before being taken there. After that he trained himself with the force & the arts of a jedi, even though he wasn't. He was a grey jedi; not light nor dark. He fell to the dark side & joined the sith, for reasons much more greater than power.

 

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Prompt: Goals and Ambitions

Miriah and Corso, minor spoilers for ch 3 smuggler class story

 

 

Miriah blinked in the darkness of her – no, their- quarters, feeling Corso’s steady breathing and his warmth behind her, and she smiled to herself. Who would have ever thought she’d let anyone get as close as she’d let him, she wondered. The very thought of it rattled around in her head. She let her thoughts wander, from the absolute delight of being in love to the current contracts and missions she held. She was resolute in her goal of helping the Republic, but she was wary of the people she was dealing with there. Darmas Pollaran was not as he seemed, she was sure. Senator Dodonna wasn’t either. How much of what they’d asked her to accomplish was to their benefit?

 

She sighed, and felt Corso pull her closer, fearing she’d disturbed his sleep yet again. As he relaxed against her, she concentrated on the steady rhythm of his breathing, trying to let go of the worries she carried with her always. She was so focused on clearing her mind that when he spoke, that low rumble of sleep-infused drawl made her jump. “Worryin’ never changes anything, darlin’,” he said.

 

She nodded. “I know,“ she whispered to him, “I’m trying to let it go.” She shifted to face him, putting her head on his broad shoulder. He kissed her head, and they were quiet. With his heartbeat in her ear, Miriah finally felt herself drifting to sleep, feeling safe and loved in his embrace.

 

Corso stared into the darkness, feeling her relaxed form snuggled into him and wondering if her worry was about them, and it kept him awake long after she was resting deeply. Worry never changes anything, he reminded himself, more than once. His hand drifted to her hair, and he finally fell asleep again, the silken ebony strands woven through his fingers.

 

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Massive incoming wall of replies. Playing catchup again:

 

@ Iamthehoyden: Hard to say who’s the least objectionable fiance-love interest here, Scourge or Crae. I can just see Crae with a little crocodile smile, watching the rest of Skari’s family. I nominate Kabeone to chibi this scene, since it just screams for chibi-ness.

 

And speaking of Kabeone: For the record, Schehe’pou’larane is too long to fit in the character name space. Clear evidence of Bioware’s Human-centric bias and discrimination toward the Chiss. (consular spoilers)

Yuon’s secrecy about her condition certainly doesn’t help anyone, though I don’t think it was malicious. I think she wanted to spend her last lucid moments doing what she loved without people trying to slow her down because she was ill. Certainly she could have focused more on Jurial’s questions, but I also think that she tempered that choice with the knowledge that she’s never going to to be able to answer all his questions.

 

 

@ Bright: The more I read about Vierce, the more I like him. Warts and all. Something about the way you write him and all his friends, as well as the Trooper crew feels very natural. Like a window into the lives of real people. I really love the whole gang.

 

@ Vesaniae: Again, interesting to see both perspectives here. Quinn’s view is one we often ignore, so I enjoyed seeing some of the fallout from his side.

 

@ Irrissa: Cielle’s journey was a long one. It was nice to see her views on the Republic and her choices. Especially liking Kaas city for its government-imposed order, and disliking Coruscant for unofficial imposed order.

 

Cleindori seeing straight through Doc’s exterior and installing a new lock on her quarters. Priceless.

 

@ CastonFelorus: Welcome to the thread! I liked exploring Zasch’s backstory. And as others have said, you have the crew voices down wonderfully. Well done and a good read.

 

@ Isoviel: Ennaly’s nothing if not ambitions. With Corso, I’m waiting with bated breath for the “Tell you when we get off Belsavis” story.

 

@ Tatile: I love, love Broan in the awkward stage. That hesitant, waiting-by-the-telephone stage. Hanging up before dialing the last number. Very sweet. It really feels like watching two people fall in love.

 

@ Tonxix: Welcome to another new contributor! Your piece reads a bit like the codex entries, and that’s always a good starting point. I have respect for anyone writing in a non-native language; it must be difficult.

 

@ Magdalane: More Miriah and Corso :). It was sweet that Corso knew her emotional state if not the reason for it, and then had a hard time taking his own advice.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Prompt: Stomping Grounds, with Good/Bad Memories figuring prominently.

 

Title: Jurial’s Memory of Courscant

 

Character: Jurial, Jedi Consular (and a brief appearance by Qyzen)

 

Spoilers for early Consular story. Sort of.

 

Notes:

I’ve taken a bit of liberty with Mirialan culture here. Wookiepedia suggests that Mirialan tattoos are a kind of cultural code, their meanings apparent to any other Mirialan. I prefer that each one has a personal meaning to the bearer and it might not be obvious to anyone else. Either view allows the generic interpretation that a Mirialan with a lot of tattoos has more life experience than one with fewer, though it leaves the reasons for the differences up for interpretation.

 

 

 

Tourists crowd the shuttle's viewports and I count myself among them. Silly, really, choosing a viewport over one of the many holofeeds from the exterior cams. Doubly so, for Coruscant is not new to me. I was a boy here. I...remember. I want to see the scars with my own eyes. Not through the sterile lens of a holocam.

 

I see not scars but open, festering wounds. Rents in the skin of this world not healed after a decade of time. This world, this Republic, suffers from long infection as much as a living being would. Sapping strength, losing confidence, a slow weakening of body and mind. Solutions seem so much harder. If Coruscant were a child, many would step forward to help. But Coruscant is a planet, and has neither wide eyes nor battered face to aid its cause. Why is it that millions will rejoice at the rescue of one small child, yet those same open, generous beings turn away from thousands of faceless others needing help?

 

Because I do remember, and the memories are not all bad.

 

It had been a warm day for a change. One of those early spring days when the weather has been so cold and so damp for so long that even a little sun seems like summer. Yes, Coruscant does have seasons, even if only those in the upper levels can enjoy them. Master Eamon took the whole class outside to the fountain park behind the temple. We were supposed to be studying the debates of Masters Mar-yse and Bo, but in truth there was very little study going on. It was a lovely evening in early spring, and even Jedi younglings need to play. But darkness fell on Coruscant before the shadows of night claimed the park.

 

The Sith came. Their Empire struck Coruscant as a military target. The Sith took the Temple for spite. For symbolism. To carve the heart from the Jedi and prove to Republic citizens their protectors were weak.

 

I remember suffocating. Literally and figuratively. For a very long time. I felt the lives of my fellow Jedi trapped with me. Initiates, padawans, and masters alike. Bright stars in a night sky. Slowly, one by one, the lights went out.

 

But I said not all memories are bad, and they aren't. I remember the rubble shifting and seeing the sun. My rescuer's head silhouetted in a halo of shining dust. He had a small beard on his chin but I am ashamed to say I remember little else. Not even his name. He handed me off to a medical team--I never saw him again. But I will always remember his joy at finding someone alive. Relief this boy in the ruin was not another corpse. Hope that finding one meant there might be still more. That he might reach them in time. Relief and joy and hope. His feelings spread among the others. Today, death had not won. The Sith had not won. The Empire had not won. They saw a future, a positive future. All from finding one mostly-crushed, very dehydrated, very hungry, yet still very much alive child.

 

Relief and joy and hope.

 

I found out much later that the Jedi Temple was a desirable assignment for the rescue crews. By the time they unearthed me it was the only place they found any trapped beings still alive. But those numbers were dwindling and soon after they abandoned the effort. There were the living to care for, more important than finding the dead. Jedi especially, one with the Force, had no families to mourn them.

 

Jedi are not supposed to have strong emotions. No hate, no fear, no anger. But we also banish joy, love, and delight. I will never forget my savior’s happiness at finding me; his emotions mirroring my own. I cannot say whose was stronger. According to doctrine I should not find comfort in this memory. Yet it remains one of my most treasured. Relief and joy and hope.

 

I had not much interest in the culture of my species before this incident, outside of a general curiosity. I understood Mirialan were a spiritual people, marking important life events with geometric tattoos. Each tattoo has personal meaning, but the artist chooses its shape, color, design and placement. I had no tattoos. I was a Force-sensitive who happened to be a Mirialan. It did not seem appropriate for me to share this tradition when I shared nothing else. After I recovered, though, I wanted to learn more. About many things, my species included. My several instructors will testify to my insatiable curiosity. I suspect I was--and am--not always an easy student.

 

When Master Yuon chose me as her padawan, it seemed the right time. I sought out a Mirialan artist. She asked only one question--why this moment? My answer was that it was a new beginning. She wanted no other information. Asked, specifically, that I tell her no more. She told me she would meditate on the shape and I should return the next day so she could inscribe it.

 

She created a pattern of diamonds for me, six in all. It is a small design. On my chin. It looks not unlike a Human facial hair arrangement called a ‘goatee’. I thought immediately of the little beard on the man who rescued me years before. She would say the ancestors showed her the design during her meditation. I would call it a vision granted by the Living Force. In that moment I understood the tradition in a way I had not before. These were not mere marks, pigment on skin, bringing to mind memories of an event or goal. It is a part of me. A piece of my life. To me, my little tattoo is a reminder of what it is to be Jedi. To follow the example of one who was not Force-sensitive as I study those who are or were. To remember that a small action may have far-reaching consequences. To persevere even in the face of so much ugliness.

 

I look again at the view through the portal. I see the scars on the face of Coruscant, and remember not all scars, not all marks, are visible. They are no less real for being unseen. For a moment I see my reflection in the transparasteel. My shape puts a lie to Jedi as living simply and with merely enough. I have a tiny lamp, a crystal barely glowing, but enough so I do not wake in darkness. I still have not meditated on Vokk. He was the first Sith I have encountered since the day the Temple fell, and I cannot yet disentangle the memories.

 

Actions have far-reaching consequences. Not all are predictable. Not all are visible.

 

Rebuilding Coruscant, perhaps, is like a kolto tank that repairs the body but does nothing for the soul. The buildings are only buildings. The important part of the city are the people who live and work and play and create here. Even when complete, Coruscant will not be the same as it was. Change is inevitable; only the dead do not change. My obligation as both a Jedi and as a sentient being is to ensure that change is for the better. Improves lives rather than destroying them.

 

Qyzen places one clawed hand on my shoulder, “We land, Herald. Yuon is waiting,” he hisses.

 

Yuon is waiting. One life among millions. Of course I will help. “Thank you, Qyzen,” I reply, “we should go to her.”

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

×
×
  • Create New...