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The Short Fic Weekly Challenge Thread!


elliotcat

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:ph_welcome:

 

It's The Weekly Drabble/Short Story Prompt Challenge Thread!

 

:sy_star:

 

What's this?

 

This is a thread for writers to challenge ourselves: to write a short story of at least 100 words every week, based on a prompt given out for inspiration. Some of us were having so much fun writing snippets of our characters' daily lives over in the headcanon thread, and this thread was born out of that. The purpose of this thread is to get creative about our characters and their family/companions/friends, and to challenge ourselves to get to know them better.

 

Check it out - we were featured on TOR Wars!

 

So, how does it work?

 

I'll post a prompt every week (I'm going to shoot for Friday). You're free to take that prompt in any direction you want. Want to write a 100-word drabble? That's just fine! Feeling inspired to write a 5000-word short story? Go for it! Or anything in between - it's really up to you. It can be a light-hearted vignette or a tough heart-rending story. It can be set before, after, or during the class stories. The point is simply to write regularly and share with each other. Please post your story here in this thread.

 

When you post, it would be awesome if you could indicate your character's name, his/her class, and if any spoilers are in your story. I'll collect them in an index so people can easily find and link to their stories to share with friends! You can write multiple stories for each prompt if you feel inspired!

 

If you have an idea for a prompt, you can PM it to me, Elliot!

 

Current Prompt:

Week of 7/13/2012 - Catching Up - Pretty much all of our characters have pasts that might catch up with them in the future. Sometimes that's not a good thing, like seeing an old enemy. Sometimes it's great, when an old friend comes to help you when you need it. Either way, it's bound to be interesting.

 

Mix It Up - For this challenge you can write anything you like. The catch? Someone else's character has to be in it along with yours. It can be your friend's or someone else in the thread as long as you have gotten their permission and as long as your story involves your character and another player character that you don't play - NPCs, companions, etc don't count. Get creative with this one and see what cool stuff you can come up with. We have some really talented minds in here and I'm sure people will come up with some awesome stories.

 

 

Happy writing!

 

:sy_star:

Edited by elliotcat
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Time to repurpose this old story post into an index! Wynston's Culture Shock story is tagged at the end of this post.

 

alaurin's chronological index starts here, with authors A. The additional index pages are linked in her signature, which can be found at the bottom of that linked post.

 

---

 

...and, since he was here first, I'll give Wynston his little dose of Culture Shock here at the end:

450 words, Imperial Agent Wynston, no spoilers whatsoever

 

Cheap dive on a backwater planet. Agent Wynston, Imperial Intelligence, stalked in and made straight for a corner booth where a lovely if heavily armored Rattataki was entwined with a skinny human youth. Wynston walked up and tapped the Rattataki's shoulder without a trace of self-consciousness.

 

She twisted to eye the Chiss. "Do I know you?" she said blandly.

 

"Kaliyo. Up and at 'em. Not him, work. Go."

 

The human made a token wriggling effort to get out from under Kaliyo, but his hands stayed firmly pressed to her behind. "Wait, does he know you?"

 

"Not as well as he thinks, honey," she assured him.

 

"Work. Emergency. I'll make it up to you later."

 

"Is that your boyfriend?"

 

"Not to worry, sweetheart."

 

"I'll get you another toy, Kaliyo. Come on."

 

"Oh, my stars. He's your boyfriend. And he's armed."

 

"Take it easy, babe. Rattataki don't have boyfriends - " Kaliyo locked her eyes on Wynston's - "especially not annoying jealous ones. It's a cultural thing."

 

"If I were jealous, would he still be breathing?"

 

"Please don't kill me, man."

 

Kaliyo rolled her eyes, grabbed the human's face, and kissed him with a truly unnecessary level of messiness. "Goodnight, handsome," she purred, and finally got up to fall in step alongside Wynston.

 

"Where I'm from it's traditional to kiss strangers goodbye," she said. "And hello. And other things in between."

 

"Funny, last week where you were from it was traditional to punch strangers in the face, hard, preferably while swearing."

 

"Who said those had to be exclusive?"

 

Wynston blew out a short sharp breath. "Do you think I liked being pulled out of my R&R? If you're on the same payroll as me, you get the same inconveniences."

 

"You're in a foul mood."

 

"It was really good R&R."

 

"That explains why you're being such a pain."

 

"At least I'm a straightforward pain. You realize I could call any idiotic behavior I like a Chiss cultural tradition and you wouldn't know the difference? But I choose not to bull**** you in such a ridiculously petty way. Because I resp...I...uh...hmm."

 

"Oh. Oh, agent." Kaliyo let her smile spread slowly. "You can't say the word, can you?"

 

"I choose not to bull**** you because I can't be bothered," admitted Wynston. "Which is almost as good as respecting you."

 

"There really is a Rattataki festival where you grab strangers and make out with them, you know. One huge excuse to harass your neighbor's wife. It was about the only entertainment we had on that rock, and it came but once a year."

 

How she ran him from annoyance to helpless affection so fast, he would never know. "Kaliyo?"

 

"Yeah?"

 

"Bull****."

 

Edited by bright_ephemera
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Prompt: Culture Shock

Characters: Tryn Atee (Trooper), 'Bolts' O'plinty (Smuggler), Larus Noc (Jedi Consular), Chet Stardrifter (Jedi Knight)

Summary: 'Gree With Envy', a throwaway piece dealing with eponymous species, centering around the missions available on Coruscant.

 

 

The galaxy is in turmoil and the flickering flames of war are being tended by mysterious forces keen on reigniting the consuming conflict between the two contrasting civilizations known at the Sith Empire and the Galactic Republic. Even ten years after the so called call for peace at the signing of the Treaty of Coruscant, the Republic’s capital world of Coruscant is still recovering from the devastation wrought by the Empire’s Sacking of Coruscant… Coruscant.

 

Four figures have come together, four heroes, keen on preserving peace throughout the galaxy, and restoring the bustling ecumenopolis to its prime. Tryn Atee, newly and duly appointed leader of Havok Squad, a group of the toughest, most well trained, and efficient couple of troopers… one of which happened to be out on a field mission collecting some raw materials for his crafty superior. “Bolts” O’plinty, rough and tough smuggler taking a brief break from his all-consuming mission of vengeance to make a few credits on a mission of benevolence and charity. His brother from an “Ord”er mother Mr. Riggs had taken a left turn at the senate and had managed to lose himself in the durasteel jungle. They were joined by a pair of Jedi, Larus Noc and Chet Stardrifter, who had grown desire one another’s companionship more so than their relative lizard and bucket of bolts who were left behind to tend the ship.

 

It was a prime assemblage of talent and skill operating under the banner of the Galactic Republic. Together, there was naught that they could not accomplish. They could very well march on the Emperor himself and dismantle the Sith Order single… er, eight-handedly. But there was pressing business in the Senate. Urgent even. There was an irregular beat in the mechanical heart of Coruscant, and it was up to these four heroes to give it the kick it needed to get back on track. In one of the many ancillary chambers of the Senate, a peculiar meeting between ambassadors was taking place. Seeking work, the four heroes entered only to find a frustrated senator storm out of the room in frustration.

 

“Nope! Didn’t sign up for this! Rather work with the Ugnaughts!” Senator Oranda lambasted with a wild flailing of her limbs.

 

“What was that about?” Lieutenant Atee mused aloud, stroking the soft yet firm chin of her unhelmed head. In the room, there was little commotion, only three protocol droids standing still as a Hutt on Hoth.

 

“Don’t care. Where there’s work, there’s credits,” cited Captain O’plinty, quoting himself.

 

“Okay, seriously ‘Bolts’, you’ve said that like… five times since Ord Mantell. You don’t need a catch phrase,” the lieutenant admonished.

 

“Shaddup. Don’t get mad at me because your elite squad is actually just you and a cat person,” O’plinty mocked.

 

“Wah, ‘my entire profession was rendered inert because I wasn’t able to keep track of a couple hundred metric tons of durasteel’,” Atee mocked.

 

“Don’t need a ship so long as I got ‘Blasty’ and ‘Shooty’ at my side,” the smuggler reminded.

 

“Ignoring the ridiculousness of naming your weapons, couldn’t you have done a better job of it?”

 

“People, Coruscant needs our help. Shall we continue?” Consular Noc advised. The two arguing figures shared a short grumble before following the Sage’s lead, the Jedi Knight staying dreadfully silent. “Good day, ambassador. Word around the senate is you require aid of some sort?”

 

“Ah, acknowledgement and reverence to you, soldier, pilot, and cleric,” Pat-aK ,the droid, warmfully welcomed.

 

“I’m actually a… wait, what?” the Consular dipped his head in confusion.

 

“We are providing adjunct verbage with intent to collaborate an initial purple parallel. Assumptions preclude additional parallelity unless our dialogue exchanges to propriety.”

 

“I have delved into countless holocrons and unlocked the hidden mysteries of the Force, but this droid’s words befuddle me so.”

 

“Eh, you’re not too far off from ‘im,” O’plinty commented. “Ey droid… Number one, what? Number two, pay me.”

 

“We need a job first before we can even begin to ask for a payment,” the trooper stated.

 

“Says who?” the captain responded.

 

“Ours is from the machination of the Gree, the beings holding responsible for generation of power and processing of wastes. The delegation requires…”

 

“Whoa, whoa, hold up a sec. Did you say Gree? Yeah, I think I actually might know of ‘em.” the smuggler declared.

 

“Everyone should, they are responsible for much of the modern technologies we utilize today,” the consular informed.

 

“Nah, I mean, I think my uncle married one not too long ago…” O’plinty admitted.

 

“Are you serious?” Lieutenant Atee balked. “He married a cephalopoid?”

 

“Hey I don’t go around insulting your family. I hear she’s a nice lady.”

 

“It’s a type of species. You know, cephalopods. Mollusks. Aquatic beings and the like,” Atee begrudgingly explained.

 

“Oooooh. Now that I think about it, I think she did have some tendrils or somethin’…”

 

“Maybe you’re thinking of a Nautolan?” Consular Noc suggested.

 

“Nah, nah. She had like, tentacles on her face, like this…” the pilot explained raising his hands to his beard and wiggling his fingers.”

 

“Where were her eyes? She could have been an Ongree…” the Sage proclaimed.

 

“Nah, I’ve seen them before. She had like, two fangs,” O’plinty continued, stopping his digit wiggling to move his index fingers into proper explanatory place.

 

“Quarren?” Atee suggested with a shrug of her shoulders.

 

“Yeah, yeah, that’s the one. I remember now, she said something wicked racist about those other kinds of fish people.”

 

“There’s something utterly wrong about that sentence…” Atee commented as she buried her face in her palm.

 

“Sirs, if I could gather a prolonged instant of your attention,” Pat-aK began to speak up.

 

“Shaddup a minute droid, we’re sortin’ this out,” O’plinty stated, dismissively waving his hand toward the droid’s face. “So what’s a Gree look like?”

 

“Not many know,” Noc admitted. “They’re a reclusive people. Live in an Enclave with no outside communications. Use droids like these guys to offer their skills and expertise to the galaxy at large.”

 

“They’re apparently humanoid blobs of gray flesh with a number ambulatory tentacles for limbs,” Lieutenant Atee detailed.

 

“Tentacles…” the usually silent Chet Stardrifter muttered. Larus Noc calmly rubbed his brow as the group gre no closer toward accomplishes their goal, or receiving a goal to begin with. Tryn Atee and ‘Bolts’ O’plinty continued to argue whilst Pat-aK tried to get in yet another string of uncomprehensible words. It would seem that once again, the utterly astounding and brave heroics of the four heroes would have to wait.

 

 

Edited by Osetto
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One chapter that I wrote in addition to the one I linked in the previous thread:

 

“Nice venue, lots of history here,” noted Lt. Aric Jorgen. Corso had just met him, but was impressed with the tall Cathar’s knowledge. They were standing in the banquet room in the Senate Plaza on Coruscant, where his mother in law’s birthday party was being readied. Corso was nervous; he’d only met Maura via holo, and this was the day he’d meet the rest of Miriah’s family. Both men were in their formal wear, Aric in his military dress uniform. Maura strolled up in her dress uniform as well, looking radiant and happy. Corso blushed as she hugged him and kissed his cheek.

“Great to meet you in person!” she said. “You have probably the hardest job in the whole galaxy, putting up with my baby sister.” She grinned, and turned to her husband, kissing him on the cheek as well.

“Easy there, little mother,” Aric told her, “we’re in uniform, after all. Feeling alright, honey?”

“Yeah, I think the nausea is over, for today anyway,” she replied. As early in her pregnancy as she was, Corso wouldn’t have known at all unless she’d told him, but he still felt in awe of it. “Corso, don’t worry about meeting Mom, she will just love you.”

He was nervous, though. Of course, he’d heard stories of the girl’s childhood, but there was never really any of Sarai Chantalle. He knew that Miriah and she had never been especially close, and that Miriah had been born several months after her father’s death. He supposed that grief might have been a factor in their bonding, but Miriah never really said much about her mom. He was surprised that they were even here, but suspected the lure of being with both sisters, combined with the baby shower they’d planned for Maura for tomorrow, was the clincher for Miriah. He wondered where the ladies were, as they were still getting each other ready when he left the ship with Bowdaar and Akaavi, thinking a walk with them would calm his nerves.

 

Risha was doing Magdalane’s hair in an intricate woven braid. They’d decided to get dressed aboard the Stardancer, and Risha was helping both sisters before going on a date herself. She’d almost finished the braid when Miriah came in wearing the dress she’d ordered especially for this occasion.

“Blazes, Miriah, are you trying to give the poor farm boy a coronary?”

Miriah looked down at the black lace dress, “What? It’s lined, you can’t see anything. Besides, I thought that if he were preoccupied with me, he’d be less nervous about meeting the family.” The gown was made of black lace and had a lining that made it look like skin. It had long sleeves and a conservative neckline. What made it special, besides the fact that it looked like you could see skin between the lacy pattern, was that the back didn’t start until the waistline. Risha rolled her eyes.

“Well I’m glad I took a room in the plaza for the night. I hate wearing earplugs to sleep, and you get loud, Mir.”

“Hey, I can’t help it if my husband is incredibly….focused,” Miriah actually blushed, but both Risha and Magdalane burst out laughing. Magdalane was wearing a strapless sheath in a muted stormy gray, which set off the sliver of her hair, and had a gorgeous embroidered wrap over her shoulders. With the finishing touches in place, they set off toward the party.

 

Felix Iresso, Magdalane’s fiancee’, had joined Corso and the Jorgans and had been introduced. As it turned out, Felix and Aric had served together early in their military careers, and Aric remembered Corso from Ord Mantell, so there was no shortage of manly conversation. Maura had opted to sit at their table, just to get off her feet. She was still dealing with the fatigue that had plagued her for a couple of months now. Corso had his back to the stairwell across the room when the sisters came in and therefore didn’t immediately see them.

Felix nudged Corso with his elbow. “Hey Corso, are you armed?”

“No,” he answered, “Miriah said I shouldn’t be, even though I feel strange without at least a blaster on me. Why?”

Felix grinned, “Probably a good thing, I’d hate to see you shoot some of these guys.” He nodded at the women, who were making their way across the room.

Corso froze when he saw Miriah. She had on some kind of lace, black lace. Her long black hair was down, which he loved, and it swung every time she turned her head. She stopped to speak to someone, and when she turned he saw the back of the dress and nearly choked. Miriah spotted them then, and she continued walking…no, Corso thought, she strutted…over to them, Mags at her side. Corso was still recovering when she stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

“Hey sweetie, everything going ok?” she asked. He just nodded, unable to say anything for a moment, then he leaned in close to whisper next to her ear.

“That dress is amazing. Do we have to stay here? Well, we have to for a few minutes, don’t think I can walk right this second.” She chuckled, smiled seductively at him, and turned to meet Felix and Aric. Corso concentrated on breathing in and out, but it did no good when he put his arm around her waist and felt her smooth skin under his hand.

“And this group is my family,” he heard behind him. They all turned to see Sarai with another Jedi from her training group. “This must be my new son in law,” she said, as she extended her arms to him. Corso knew now where Miriah got her petite size, as Sarai was tiny as well.

“Very pleased to meet you, ma’am,” he said. “Happy birthday.” She smiled at him, impressed with his manners and intrigued by his accent. Miriah had told her mother of their marriage, of course, but only their ship family was present for the ceremony. This was, in fact, the first time the whole family had been together in almost three years. He smiled shyly at Sarai, and said, “Thank you for welcoming me to your family.”

“It’s your family now, too, son,” Sarai responded, deeply touched. Magdalane had told her of how Corso had lost his own parents on Ord Mantell, many years ago now. Corso relaxed, feeling like he could breathe again and no longer nervous, well, about his mother in law, at least. Now he just had to keep Miriah close. He would hate to have to punch somebody at his first family function with the Chantalles.

They all chatted happily, then made their way over to Maura, who had found some appetizers to nibble on. Corso and Miriah sat down with her, their fingers intertwined. They all enjoyed the meal and the conversation, but Corso was definitely distracted. He could barely keep his hands off her, which is what Miriah had intended. Mission accomplished, Miriah thought. I’d put my hand on his thigh, but he might go catatonic, she smirked to herself.

After dinner, they danced to the slow, lyrical music. Corso ran his fingertips up and down Miriah’s spine, making her shiver. He pulled her closer and growled, “You know, you’ve been making me crazy all night, beautiful. I’ll make you pay for that later, but nowI gotta know, what exactly do you wear under a dress like that?”

She grinned wickedly at him, but said nothing, enjoying his touch too much. They were separated when Felix cut in and danced with her for a bit. They stayed until the party ended around midnight, the girls enjoying being in the same place for awhile. It was a beautiful night, and quite a walk to the hangar. As they got closer, Corso walked faster, eager to get her alone. She stopped to slip off her shoes, they’d been uncomfortable for most of the evening since she was used to her boots and not heels. As she bent over to unfasten the straps, she looked up at Corso, who was mesmerized by her bare back.

“Want to know what I’ve got on under this?” she asked coyly. He swallowed hard, and nodded as he picked up her shoes. She pulled his head down and whispered to him, “Nothing, sugar, not a thing.” She yelped as he slung her over his shoulder and ran for the ship.

They were just snuggling to sleep when the sun started to rise over Coruscant. There was clothing strewn from the hatch all the way to their quarters, but neither of them cared. “Love you,” Miriah said softly to him, her head on his shoulder .

“Love you more,” he answered, and they slept.

 

 

 

 

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A Time for Reflection

 

Slight Inquisitor spoilers

 

 

 

"You sure about this?" came the questioning voice from the slim and wiry man leaning on the door frame before the aft airlock. Questioning was not exactly the correct tone implied. The question was asked more out of courtesy and incredulity, while the mans face already said "I've already left".

The simply robed figure sighed and turned to face the former pirate, turned friend.

"Andronikos, if you ask me one more time i just may change my mind... I am not GIVING you this ship, i am merely letting you borrow it." The robed figure paused a moment and pulled the hood from his face, revealing his skin as Red as the landscape around them. "Besides, i do not think you stupid enough to steal from a Dark Lord of the Sith" he added with a rather disarming smile.

Andronikos laughed.

"Let alone a member of the Dark Council. No, my Lord, I have more sense than that. My business will be concluded as quickly as i can. You wont even know im gone." The rogue said with a faraway look on his face. His hand had draped over his blaster holstered at his side as he spoke. The Sith knew his friend knew nothing like the wishing of luck, or the platitudes of a goodbye. Instead the Sith turned back and waved his hand up in parting as he walked away.

"Crush your enemies little pirate, and savor the gift from our mistress death as it takes each one" came the alien voice from the shadows of a rock outcropping. The airlock was already moving into place to close, and the ships engines were humming with power.

The figure who spoke the words of parting grunted to himself as if in answer and moved in stepped beyond the Sith who was already rapidly moving around the outcropping and through the wastes.

The figure bore a oversized pack on his back, but seemed unphased by its weight or the oppressive surroundings. He stood 2 heads taller than the Sith he trailed(who was a rather large individual in his own right), and looked like he expected trouble from the very air around them. A smile would be the one thing he could ever conquer.

 

The two companions walked through the rocky wastes for a time before the large being broke the silence as he strode alongside the Sith.

 

"Tulak never saw fit to make me into a pack mule. We conquered our enemies from system to system, and death was never far. But never was i a beast of burden little Sith"

The Sith did not break his stride, but returned the first gripe he had ever heard from his companion with some mirth.

"You are not a beast of burden Khem. We shall bear the trails of this journey together. I will understand if you find yourself growing tired and will take the pack from you."

The Sith did not need to turn around to know the response, and he repressed a rare and pleasant smile as he heard the grunting and uncharacteristic stuttering from Khem Vhal.

"I do not tire of this pack. I have waded the swamps of Dragu V with the perils of the great Dragons. Such a trivial burden will not weaken me" came the guttural reply once the Deshade had composed himself for a reply. He shouldered the pack meaningfully and did not speak again for some time.

It was all the Sith could do to keep himself from laughing out loud. He did not think he could defend himself against the Deshades wrath and his own laughter at the same time, so he kept it to himself.

~~~

"Kallig'do, Why could i not journey with the Pirate to slay his enemies. It has been too long since i have feasted well" The Deshade said as he unshouldered his pack and watched the Sith run his hands over some rocks carved with ancient writing.

The Sith seemed to be ignoring him and Khem Vhal shifted irritably and was about to ask again when he turned around.

"Khem...are you unhappy with me?" he asked as he leaned back against the rocks and faced his companion.

The Deshade was partly taken aback....he started to speak of a battle where he and Tulak had been forced to ground by pursuers when the Sith cut him off again.

"No. Khem...have you ever been truly happy? Not content on the fields of battle, not lost in the bloodlust. But pleased with your path in life. With how you have served?" The Sith was looking at Khem curiously as he spoke.

 

Khem did not know how to respond. He often found himself wondering how his master was a Dark Lord of the Sith, for his attitude seemed so contrary.

He had seen him cut down men with no more reason than his anger and bloodlust, but also go out of his way to save others. Such questions seemed unbecoming of a sith.

 

"Tulak would never haved asked me such a thing!" Khem spat out finally, he stood taller and flexed his hands.

"No...i imagine he would not...." the Sith replied as he turned his back on Khem, the conversation clearly finished as far as he was concerned.

Khem did not know how to react. His master had shown him so much, and despite his almost ingrained response to compare everything to his previous master and accomplishments he had felt hollow having come to terms with the truth over the myths. This new question sparked some uncomfortable thoughts and he reacted the only way he knew how.

"I WILL BE DONE WITH YOU LITTLE SITH!" Khem roared as he pulled his Vibro blade out swung it at the sith in one mighty blow.

His master had already leapt above and behind him, the swing may as well have been a playful nudge from a child by his reaction. The stone with markings smashed in an explosion as the blade connected where the Sith had just stood.

"Will you now, Khem? But will that help?" the Sith said as he ignited his lightsabe, first one blade then the other. He spun the two sided blade slowly in his hand, forming an almost hypnotic arc.

Khem ignored the words. Always words with his master. He did not need such thoughts or ideas when he could merely feast.

With a mighty backhand, he flung rock and debris toward his Master who didnt move, but merely deflected and destroyed the rocks his his saber in a deadly dance of light. As Khem had wanted.

He slammed his Vibro sword into the hilt of his masters blades, causing the saber to sputter out briefly. Khem used his rushing weight to clamp down on his masters hands as the saber fell to the ground and he pulled/held the sith up as he roared in his face.

To his annoyance his Masters face did not show fright, or anger. He was smiling instead.

"Why Khem...if you had wanted a hug you merely had to ask." the Sith said with mirth as Khem roared again at him. His roaring anger cut short as he was knocked sideways by a mighty blow.

His hands slipped and he reached up to block the attack...when the rock slammed his face knocking him backwards.

He hit the ground and dazed he was suddenly set upon with a great weight. A rock, boulder more like, was crushing him slowly into the ground. He felt the world blacken around him and then there was nothing...

 

Khem awoke sometime later, the boulder was no longer holding him to the ground and his master was once more engrossed in the ruins around them. His vibroblade was slammed into the ground point first next to him.

"It is nice to have these little talks Khem. Though you should come to understand there are more feelings, more passion in the world than just anger that can drive us." The Sith said as he rubbed his hands together and stood over the Deshade.

Khem was muddled, but more confused by the words and the feelings he felt. Friendship was not a trait he had known, nor expected to know. He felt only confusion and...fear. And he could defeat his fear easily on the field of battle...

"Perhaps that is why you remember the feasts so well my friend." the Sith said almost finishing Khems thoughts for him. "You see everything in terms of a battle. Of Life and Death. There is more to life than conflict."

 

Khem said nothing, but stood up on his own and stretched slightly to ease the pain he felt all over his body.

He reached out and grasped his Vibroblade with purpose, his hand pausing slightly before he pulled it out.

The Sith did not move. Instead looking at Khem with that peculiar look on his face, like earlier.

 

"Yes...little Sith..." Khem said as he sheathed his blade and bowed slightly. The shame of having lost, and the confusion of what that still meant hanging on him heavily.

He was stopped partway by a hand on his shoulder and stood tall again. His master made that peculiar look again and smiled.

"Good...come help me with his Khem. You need not understand it all at once. It is enough to have looked as you have."

 

This time it was Khem who looked at his master with a peculiar look, before he bared his teeth and slid his shoulders back. His master smiled and laughed.

"Khem...was that a smile?"

The great Deshade stopped his motions and looked down at his...friend.

"Perhaps little sith...Perhaps..."

 

 

Edited by Jiating
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The Subject of Fun

 

Kasmarien, a Republic Trooper

Elara Dorne

 

No spoilers.

 

 

"Come on, it'll be fun."

 

"But Sir, there's still a lot of work that needs to be finished, requisitions to put in for resupply, supplies that need organizing and the medbay is horribly chaotic mess. We simply aren't ready if we're called back to duty. " Elara protested while simultaneously attempting to complete the necessary supply requisitions.

 

"I know all of that but it can wait," Kasmarien countered. " Garza gave all of us a few days of leave and I intend to take advantage of it. Think of it as a team building exercise, Elara, something that doesn't involve being shot at or almost blown up, and the best part is, it will be fun. They do have that in the Empire don't they?"

 

Elara looked up at the woman, who was both her CO and friend, leaning up on against the medbay door and blinked in surprise. It was strange for Kasmarien to bring up the Empire and stranger still to have it linked to the concept of fun. Thinking back to her life in the Empire before she defected, what could be considered fun in the Empire was as different to the Republic as the Sith were to the Jedi in some respects and said as much, that and she did not think that the current idea being put forth as fun.

 

"Wait, so you're telling me the Imps didn't have parties, drinking games, or wacky social events like themed movie nights?" Kasmarien sounded incredulous at the very notion. "Fine Elara, what would you consider fun?"

 

Elara sighed inwardly, she knew that the particular tone of voice Kas was using never boded well for the other person. "Going to the theatre, or a quiet night reading a good book perhaps," she paused, thinking for a moment before continuing, "going to the forum on the latest innovations in field medicine that's scheduled for tomorrow. That sort of thing, sir. Furthermore, most social functions in the Empire were either populated by Sith or an opportunity to network and perhaps garner alliances with higher ranking officials."

 

Kas shuddered briefly at the thought of needing to be in a room full of Sith or brown nosing politicians. "I'll make you a deal Elara, we'll both go to the medical forum tomorrow, if you relax and come to movie night tonight. Guaranteed explosions, fight scenes so realistic you'll feel like you're really there and maybe some romance with a chance of comedy, but definitely explosions."

 

"You're not going to let me get away with not coming to this Mi'keal Bae themed vid night are you sir?"

 

After throwing her arm over Elara's shoulder and hustling her to the briefing room where 4X, Tanno and Yuun were waiting, Kas answered "Nope, not a chance. Besides, Lieutenant Grumpy-pants wouln't agree to come unless you're in too." Turning her head over a shoulder, Kas yelled "Hey Jorgan, get your furry butt in here and bring the popcorn while you're at it. Elara's a go!"

 

 

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Current Prompt:

Week of 6/1/2012 - Culture Shock - The galaxy is a big place, and it's home to a wide variety of different cultures and species. It's not easy working with someone who may look similar to you, but comes from a radically different culture - not to mention being friends or even spouses with them.

 

Happy writing!

 

:sy_star:

 

Features my Jedi Knight Eleya Shevani- as a Padawan.

Set 3 Standard years ATC

 

No Spoilers. Used tag for space conservation.

 

:Culture Shock:

 

 

One of the earliest things Leya remembers being told by her crèche Masters when she was younger is that the galaxy is full of different Beings with backgrounds, stories and lives, and that the Jedi Temple itself is similar in that regard. She took their words for it, not really caring too much about the fundamental dynamics of a star civilization mixed with numerous species different than her own.

 

Now, she is beginning to appreciate growing up amongst her clan-mates and other residents of the Temple. There, the atmosphere was always warm, comfortable and welcoming- even if she did manage to irk many Masters’ ire for her abilities to finding multiple ways of sneaking out of the Temple.

 

Her first mission with her current Master is at a cantina, of all places. A mixing pot of diversity; languages, Force signatures and emotions meshing together to the point that Leya has to take a moment by the cantina’s entrance to take a deep breath and anchor herself in the Force.

 

A Twi’lek passes by her close enough to brush against her side, and sends her a leer. Even without Leya’s emphatic abilities she can feel his derision from a mile away.

 

This is almost overwhelming, Leya thinks as she presses herself closer to the entrance threshold to make room for the other patrons entering and exiting the cantina. Behind her, her Master is finishing up a quick holo-call in the open corridor, before cutting the link and making his way over to the girl.

 

His Force signature is bright and warm; something Leya quickly decides to focus on to drum out the other distractions straining her senses.

 

“Nervous?” her Master, Jon Do, asks. Leya turns her face in his direction and can make out the outline of his full lips curving into a half-smile. “Don’t worry- you’ll do fine. At least, there is no way you could do worse than I did on my first official mission.”

 

Leya’s eyebrows lift higher above her eye covering.

 

“… was it really awful?” she inquires, feeling a little reassurance that she isn’t the only one to have felt anxious for a mission. She can feel Master Do’s amusement like a tickle against her skin.

 

“I would tell you, but I don’t want to give you nightmares,” Master Do says, and for all intents and purposes he sounds serious.

 

But Leya knows better and chuckles anyway. Her shoulders relax and when Master Do leads them deeper into the cantina, she follows dutifully.

 

The galaxy- and this cantina –is mixed with so many different species and Beings with different backgrounds and histories to be sure. And Leya knows she’d be dishonest if she tried to fool herself into believing she wasn’t a bit unsure of herself.

 

One thing she was sure of, though, was that even if she was to be put in amongst a multitude of others, if she stayed centered in herself she couldn’t ever be lost. As Leya walks closely behind her Master and casts her Sight out to see more patrons, she smiles to herself.

 

Maybe her first mission won’t be so bad after all.

 

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Culture shock.

 

Characters: Ardyth Sith Pureblood, Sith Warrior class, Malavai Quinn.

Spoilers, only in regards to the Fem war and Quinn romance arc.

 

Culture shock, Sith Purebloods vs a "normal" imperial

 

 

Ardyth channeled the force, her red face was slick with sweat, her bright yellow eyes, blood shot , yet determined. Quinn held fast to her hand, supporting her back through every contraction while she pushed and labored to bring their child into the world.

 

Malavai Quinn, was a mess of nerves, excited, yet anxious, eager to finally meet their first child, his hand had gone numb nearly an hour ago from holding Ardyths.

 

"The babe is crowning Ardyth, my love, you're almost there!", Quinn glanced down to where the midwife waited to catch their precious cargo.

 

Ardyth pushed one final push, roaring with the effort, and she felt the rest of her baby escape her womb. The child was placed on her mothers chest right away, naked and slick and screaming her first breath. The midwife went to work cleaning the baby off, and looking after what came next.

 

"It's a girl! My love we have a daughter! You amaze me my dear." Quinn was elated, happy was too weak a word, he noticed the red skin, and the ridges on his tiny daughters face. Pureblood! Her little eyes opened to meet her mothers, bright yellow. He loved her instantly.

 

Ardyth held the now quiet child, and frowned, she tried again to reach through the force to commune with her newborn daughter but was met with nothing. She tried a second, then third, then fourth time, as her worst fears took over. She had a pureblood child who was not force sensitive, abomination.

 

"Take it off me" Ardyth couln't look at her, she was disgusted, ashamed. How could the Emporor's Wrath bear an abomination. It was a bad dream.

 

Quinn tenderly picked up his daughter, swaddled her and simply stared in amazement at this perfect little being in his arms. "Her, it's a girl love"

 

"No Malavai, it is an abomination, this is no pureblood, it's not force sensitive", She spat out the words, rage, shame and sadness, she fought back the tears, feeling like an utter failure.

 

Quinn felt dumb, could not comprehend what his wife just said. "But...we always said if our child was not force sensitive, that we would send it to the military acadamy, she will simply follow in my footsteps.."

 

"NO, That creature is an abomination, Malavai! If she had been born without the red markings, appeared more human, then there would be no problem, but she was born with the royal markings, but can not use the force....The only thing she is fit for is slavery or death."

 

The baby started to cry startled by the sudden yelling.

 

"GET IT OUT OF MY SIGHT"

 

Quinn reluctantly handed his daughter over to a waiting nurse.

 

Ardyth closed her eyes, and held out her hand for her husband to take. Quinn took it, numb.

 

"Take care of this problem for me, I'm too tired to do it myself"

 

"but.."

 

"Captain!"

 

"yes....my lord"

 

Quinn left his wifes birthing suite, the nurse handed his daughter back to him, with a look of sad pity on her face, she did not envy him. She quieted in his arms.

 

"Your name is Mitka, and I love you"

 

He absently stroked her wispy black hair a top her head, her big yellow eyes stared up at him in awe. He found himself in an all too familiar dilemma. Love or Duty. Love for his daughter or duty to his wife.

 

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Culture shock.

 

Characters: Ardyth Sith Pureblood, Sith Warrior class, Malavai Quinn.

Spoilers, only in regards to the Fem war and Quinn romance arc.

 

Culture shock, Sith Purebloods vs a "normal" imperial

 

 

Ardyth channeled the force, her red face was slick with sweat, her bright yellow eyes, blood shot , yet determined. Quinn held fast to her hand, supporting her back through every contraction while she pushed and labored to bring their child into the world.

 

Malavai Quinn, was a mess of nerves, excited, yet anxious, eager to finally meet their first child, his hand had gone numb nearly an hour ago from holding Ardyths.

 

"The babe is crowning Ardyth, my love, you're almost there!", Quinn glanced down to where the midwife waited to catch their precious cargo.

 

Ardyth pushed one final push, roaring with the effort, and she felt the rest of her baby escape her womb. The child was placed on her mothers chest right away, naked and slick and screaming her first breath. The midwife went to work cleaning the baby off, and looking after what came next.

 

"It's a girl! My love we have a daughter! You amaze me my dear." Quinn was elated, happy was too weak a word, he noticed the red skin, and the ridges on his tiny daughters face. Pureblood! Her little eyes opened to meet her mothers, bright yellow. He loved her instantly.

 

Ardyth held the now quiet child, and frowned, she tried again to reach through the force to commune with her newborn daughter but was met with nothing. She tried a second, then third, then fourth time, as her worst fears took over. She had a pureblood child who was not force sensitive, abomination.

 

"Take it off me" Ardyth couln't look at her, she was disgusted, ashamed. How could the Emporor's Wrath bear an abomination. It was a bad dream.

 

Quinn tenderly picked up his daughter, swaddled her and simply stared in amazement at this perfect little being in his arms. "Her, it's a girl love"

 

"No Malavai, it is an abomination, this is no pureblood, it's not force sensitive", She spat out the words, rage, shame and sadness, she fought back the tears, feeling like an utter failure.

 

Quinn felt dumb, could not comprehend what his wife just said. "But...we always said if our child was not force sensitive, that we would send it to the military acadamy, she will simply follow in my footsteps.."

 

"NO, That creature is an abomination, Malavai! If she had been born without the red markings, appeared more human, then there would be no problem, but she was born with the royal markings, but can not use the force....The only thing she is fit for is slavery or death."

 

The baby started to cry startled by the sudden yelling.

 

"GET IT OUT OF MY SIGHT"

 

Quinn reluctantly handed his daughter over to a waiting nurse.

 

Ardyth closed her eyes, and held out her hand for her husband to take. Quinn took it, numb.

 

"Take care of this problem for me, I'm too tired to do it myself"

 

"but.."

 

"Captain!"

 

"yes....my lord"

 

Quinn left his wifes birthing suite, the nurse handed his daughter back to him, with a look of sad pity on her face, she did not envy him. She quieted in his arms.

 

"Your name is Mitka, and I love you"

 

He absently stroked her wispy black hair a top her head, her big yellow eyes stared up at him in awe. He found himself in an all too familiar dilemma. Love or Duty. Love for his daughter or duty to his wife.

 

*gasp*! It's so... wrenching! But good. :eek:

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*gasp*! It's so... wrenching! But good. :eek:

 

I made myself cry yesterday when I was coming up with it....and hugged my own 2 children a little tighter. I need to get my characters legacy stories down, I have another snippet I wrote about my smuggler..and now I'm seeing all sorts of other stories for my other characters and finally seeing how they'll all intermingle.

 

I truly did try to come up with something light and fun...but couldn't .

 

Also

 

 

The baby lives!

 

Just feel the need to let you guys know.

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I made myself cry yesterday when I was coming up with it....and hugged my own 2 children a little tighter. I need to get my characters legacy stories down, I have another snippet I wrote about my smuggler..and now I'm seeing all sorts of other stories for my other characters and finally seeing how they'll all intermingle.

 

I truly did try to come up with something light and fun...but couldn't .

 

Also

 

 

The baby lives!

 

Just feel the need to let you guys know.

 

I really hate your Warrior right now. Like MASSIVELY hate her. I feel more bad for Quinn.

 

I loved this and good to know what you said in this spoiler.

 

All but three of my girls are human, one being a cyborg (barely) and 2 Chiss.

 

This is why I'll never roll a Pureblood, ever. *hugs Quinn and the wee one*

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Eavesdropping

 

Jedi Knight and crew (minor crew/relationship spoilers)

 

Esma snuck down the first couple steps to the lower level of the ship. Sure, eavesdropping was probably not fitting for a Jedi, but she'd heard the faint sound of male voices below and the idea that Doc and Scourge were actually conversing was too good to pass up.

 

"...so that would be three centuries without..."

 

"That is correct."

 

"Boy, you Sith sure know how to torture yourselves."

 

A dark chuckle echoed up the staircase. "Your conception of torture is...amusing."

 

"All I'm saying is Ol' Doc would be in some mighty trouble if he couldn't find some relaxation every now and again."

 

Esma rolled her eyes from her perch on the steps. What had she been thinking when she'd hooked up with him? Should have bailed when he proposed. Temporary insanity...well, that and he was amusing on occasion.

 

"Yes, I am certain your will would fail such a test."

 

"Hey now, I'm just sayin' a man has needs. Just cause you've got this immortal doom and gloom thing going on doesn't mean you're immune."

 

"My needs are none of your concern."

 

"Hey, no need to get upset, but as a doctor I have to tell you, that can't be healthy. You need to cut loose, get a little wild. You'd never know it, but Esma, she..."

 

Esma stopped herself from force leaping down the steps to strangle her husband. He was NOT going to discuss their activities with Scourge. Nope nope nope....the two men had fallen very silent. A slight croak broke the silence.

 

"Perhaps you would like to include your wife in this discussion. I believe she's waiting on the stairs."

 

A choking gasp had her jumping the rest of the stairs. Scourge was leaning against the doorframe of the cargo bay; he casually let go of the force choke and Doc dropped to the ground against the med bay wall gasping.

 

"What did you think you were doing?" she shouted at the Sith lord as she checked to make sure there was no permanent damage to Doc.

 

"What you would do were you not bound by your ridiciculous rules. The man is an insect, unworthy of your regard."

 

She stalked across the hall, fists clenched, to confront Scourge, "You know nothing about what I would or would not do, Sith. We are not on Drommund Kaas, and here we do not choke people, insect-like or not!"

 

"Hey now, that's uncalled for," Doc grumbled as he struggled back to his feet.

 

"Shut up," she glared at him, "I will deal with you later." She turned back to Scourge, "Feeling passion and acting on every dark impulse are not the same. Do not assume you know my heart."

 

"So you would keep this...creature, who disrespects you and treats your love so casually? Who does not comprehend what he has been privleged to have?"

 

Esma could not tear her gaze away from the haunted look in Scourge's eyes. Silence filled the space.

 

"Esma, I didn't mean..." She held up a hand to silence Doc and then headed for the stairs.

 

"Wait," Doc called after her, "are we okay?"

 

She looked back at him and then started up the stairs.

 

"No."

 

Author's Note:

 

This story comes out of my head canon where my jk is seriously considering ending her marriage to Doc. Yes, she has feelings for Scourge, but irrespective of that, she has come to realize that Doc is not the man she'd thought he was and probably never will be.

 

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Eavesdropping

 

Jedi Knight and crew (minor crew/relationship spoilers)

 

Esma snuck down the first couple steps to the lower level of the ship. Sure, eavesdropping was probably not fitting for a Jedi, but she'd heard the faint sound of male voices below and the idea that Doc and Scourge were actually conversing was too good to pass up.

 

"...so that would be three centuries without..."

 

"That is correct."

 

"Boy, you Sith sure know how to torture yourselves."

 

A dark chuckle echoed up the staircase. "Your conception of torture is...amusing."

 

"All I'm saying is Ol' Doc would be in some mighty trouble if he couldn't find some relaxation every now and again."

 

Esma rolled her eyes from her perch on the steps. What had she been thinking when she'd hooked up with him? Should have bailed when he proposed. Temporary insanity...well, that and he was amusing on occasion.

 

"Yes, I am certain your will would fail such a test."

 

"Hey now, I'm just sayin' a man has needs. Just cause you've got this immortal doom and gloom thing going on doesn't mean you're immune."

 

"My needs are none of your concern."

 

"Hey, no need to get upset, but as a doctor I have to tell you, that can't be healthy. You need to cut loose, get a little wild. You'd never know it, but Esma, she..."

 

Esma stopped herself from force leaping down the steps to strangle her husband. He was NOT going to discuss their activities with Scourge. Nope nope nope....the two men had fallen very silent. A slight croak broke the silence.

 

"Perhaps you would like to include your wife in this discussion. I believe she's waiting on the stairs."

 

A choking gasp had her jumping the rest of the stairs. Scourge was leaning against the doorframe of the cargo bay; he casually let go of the force choke and Doc dropped to the ground against the med bay wall gasping.

 

"What did you think you were doing?" she shouted at the Sith lord as she checked to make sure there was no permanent damage to Doc.

 

"What you would do were you not bound by your ridiciculous rules. The man is an insect, unworthy of your regard."

 

She stalked across the hall, fists clenched, to confront Scourge, "You know nothing about what I would or would not do, Sith. We are not on Drommund Kaas, and here we do not choke people, insect-like or not!"

 

"Hey now, that's uncalled for," Doc grumbled as he struggled back to his feet.

 

"Shut up," she glared at him, "I will deal with you later." She turned back to Scourge, "Feeling passion and acting on every dark impulse are not the same. Do not assume you know my heart."

 

"So you would keep this...creature, who disrespects you and treats your love so casually? Who does not comprehend what he has been privleged to have?"

 

Esma could not tear her gaze away from the haunted look in Scourge's eyes. Silence filled the space.

 

"Esma, I didn't mean..." She held up a hand to silence Doc and then headed for the stairs.

 

"Wait," Doc called after her, "are we okay?"

 

She looked back at him and then started up the stairs.

 

"No."

 

Author's Note:

 

This story comes out of my head canon where my jk is seriously considering ending her marriage to Doc. Yes, she has feelings for Scourge, but irrespective of that, she has come to realize that Doc is not the man she'd thought he was and probably never will be.

 

NO! Poor Doc. I love him. Well, my Chiss Jedi does. *sobs*

 

You guys are so evil with your stories. My poor head canon is crying big emo tears.

 

This is my way of saying this is NICE! =D

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NO! Poor Doc. I love him. Well, my Chiss Jedi does. *sobs*

 

You guys are so evil with your stories. My poor head canon is crying big emo tears.

 

This is my way of saying this is NICE! =D

 

If it helps at all, I don't think he was terribly committed to my Chiss Jedi; in fact I'm pretty sure that once it ends he'll go back to his womanizing ways without too much protest.

 

I'm sure it's an entirely different situation with your Chiss Jedi. (Btw, nice choice on the species :D)

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Late to my own party...but I do tend to wait till the last minute. Wasn't too sure what I wanted to do until I had a boring meeting to think about it during. Another sad story about bad parents. :(

 

Red

Characters: Ayang Cardani (smuggler), Meyali Cardani (Consular, mentioned only)

Spoilers: None

 

 

"You can use my real name."

 

We were sitting on the steps of the Anchorhead spaceport, watching the sky turn dark. I'd been a little curious to see if that actually happened on Tatooine, and if the desert really got cold at night. I stood out here, with my green skin and the tattoos on my face. Today, I'd stood out even more. What was I thinking, suggesting Corso and I go out on a date together? You're an idiot, Ayang, I told myself. On Coruscant no one would care, but here everyone has to stare at a human and a Mirialan together.

 

Besides, I'd never been on a date before.

 

"What?"

 

I played with the cloth of my skirt. This was the first time I'd worn a dress since my school graduation, and I was thinking that might be an even worse idea than my choice of date venues.

 

"You always call me Captain," I said. "My name is Ayang. You can call me that."

 

"Ayang." I must have smiled a little, because he asked me, "Did I say it wrong?"

 

"A little," I said. "But you'll get it." I looked out into the distance. It was actually starting to get cool. I dug my toe into the sand and watched it pour over my foot. My boots were in bad shape. I should have bought new ones. "Do you know what it means?"

 

"Didn't you say it meant 'red'?"

 

"Yeah," I said. "It's a little more complicated than that, though." I didn't really know why I was telling this story. It wasn't a pleasant one; I highly doubted it was the sort of thing you're supposed to talk about on a first date. But I liked him, a lot, and I couldn't remember the last person I'd liked enough to tell.

 

"It's a really famous Mirialan song," I said. I scooped up a handful of sand and let it run through my fingers. There was enough light coming from the buildings that it sparkled a little. "It's the most famous song we have, probably. Every Mirialan knows it. It's a really sad song, about regret and disappointment, that kind of thing...anyway, the refrain goes, 'I shed my blood for nothing.'" It made me shiver just to say that out loud, because I could so easily picture my mother at 17, saying that to her newborn child. That line probably crossed my mind five times a day, but I could count on one hand the number of times I'd said it out loud.

 

"She really named you because of that?" Corso asked. "Maybe she just liked red."

 

"No," I said. "I know, because she told me. When I was five years old."

 

We both fell silent. I kept picking up the sand. It felt good to dig my hands into the ground, like I was unearthing part of myself. Maybe in a way, I really was.

 

"Anyway...every time I meet a Mirialan they're shocked. No one would ever give their daughter this name. It's just mean. Everybody gets the message. She wanted something else." A Force-sensitive daughter who would bring glory to the name Cardani. "This name is my mother telling everyone that with me, she shed blood for nothing. I wasn't worth it."

 

"Is that what you think?"

 

"For a long time it was," I said. "Not anymore, though." I really didn't know if this was as true as I made it sound. Did I really think I was worth it? I didn't have a high opinion of myself. But then again, the fact that I was willing to try having a real relationship seemed like a step toward change. A few months ago I wouldn't have considered myself worthy of that.

 

"Do you think my mother is a terrible person?" I asked quietly, staring at the sand.

 

For a moment, there was silence. Then Corso said, "Yeah. I do."

 

I couldn't help but smile. "You know, a Mirialan man would never say that. We don't believe in questioning elders, ever."

 

"Sorry." He genuinely seemed afraid that he'd upset me. "I didn't mean -"

 

"Actually, I like it," I said. "Because it's true. She is a terrible person." I smiled, this time a real one and not the kind you use to soften a sad story. "I'm glad you said that. Now I want to invite you back to my room."

 

"I sort of thought you'd do that anyway."

 

I stood up and smoothed my skirt. "Well, yeah," I said. "But now I have an excuse, so we can pretend I'm respectable."

 

I held out my hand, and he took it. This time, I didn't let go - no matter how many people stared.

 

 

Edited by elliotcat
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Culture Shock:

The only real in-game character in this is Rogan't, represented here by Rochester.

 

 

 

The lieutenant was shown in through the servant's entrance. Though the building was a scholar's house, it was only for the use of Sith and as such Darth Yt'klor had forbidden any non-Sith to enter through the front. Even if they could argue, few had a problem with the arrangement. It allowed for a level of expected secrecy and intrigue. Where better to hide your own secrets than in the shadow of another's?

 

The servant, a young Zabrak woman, walked him through the maze of corridors and shelving. As they were walking, Rochester could not help but note the lack of a shock collar. Darth Yt'klor truly did stand by his beliefs: what worth a Sith if he cannot control his slaves by his own hand? At length she showed him to a room, set apart of the others.

 

"My Lord Naught is in here, sir, he awaits you." He nodded his thanks to her and entered. The room was surprisingly empty for a Sith. There were none of the usual adornments, none of the battle trophies and certainly no trophies of personal conquest. Instead there was a simple bed and a clean desk with a small pile of holocrons and data slides heaped upon it.

 

Lord Naught sat at the desk and sighed. He did not turn to face the lieutenant, choosing rather to cover his face with his hands. He still wore the braids of a Jedi.

 

"Second thoughts, my Lord?" It was not the place of an Imperial to question a Sith on such personal matters, but Broan had yet to fully acquaint himself to his new position.

 

"What I have I told you about calling me that? We're in private, Rochester." He tried, and failed, to maintain a firm tone. In a single swift motion Broan rose and crossed much of the distance between them. Having only recently abandoned the Jedi order he was finding it difficult to control and centre himself. The introduction to emotions he would have otherwise oppressed was unusual and he was often fighting off embarrassment more than anything.

 

"One of your old friends almost started a brawl with my men," Broan stopped at this, a few steps from Rochester, a look of dismay starting to creep onto his face. "Well, I say 'brawl'. We were taking a quick break in a Hutt cantina. This Master... dick came in with a couple of troopers. The Hutts will let anyone in these days," Rochester smiled, trying to make light of the situation. "He blamed me for your leaving."

 

"The Republic's as much to blame as anyone."

 

"Is it?" Broan closed the gap between them, grabbing Rochester by the waist. He was little used to impulsive actions and, at a loss for what to do next, lay his forehead on the other man's shoulder. "I was able to talk my way out of it this time, but I might not be so lucky in the future," Rochester lay a comforting hand on the ex-Jedi's back. "I'll have to limit shore-leave to Imperial worlds."

 

"Don't get hurt."

 

"I'm too expensive - the Navy will have my head if I die." Rochester kissed Broan lightly on the cheek and showed himself out.

 

 

 

I need to go back and read what everyone else has written, but I'm feeling greatly outclassed by the lot of you.

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Never leave a 1 year old with a tray full of blueberries while you try and catch up on your reading....

 

I don't have a JK yet, but I squeed a little at that Scourge moment. Also I want to give Ayang the biggest hug. Her and Mitka could be friends one day. <3

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Culture Shock:

The only real in-game character in this is Rogan't, represented here by Rochester.

 

 

 

The lieutenant was shown in through the servant's entrance. Though the building was a scholar's house, it was only for the use of Sith and as such Darth Yt'klor had forbidden any non-Sith to enter through the front. Even if they could argue, few had a problem with the arrangement. It allowed for a level of expected secrecy and intrigue. Where better to hide your own secrets than in the shadow of another's?

 

The servant, a young Zabrak woman, walked him through the maze of corridors and shelving. As they were walking, Rochester could not help but note the lack of a shock collar. Darth Yt'klor truly did stand by his beliefs: what worth a Sith if he cannot control his slaves by his own hand? At length she showed him to a room, set apart of the others.

 

"My Lord Naught is in here, sir, he awaits you." He nodded his thanks to her and entered. The room was surprisingly empty for a Sith. There were none of the usual adornments, none of the battle trophies and certainly no trophies of personal conquest. Instead there was a simple bed and a clean desk with a small pile of holocrons and data slides heaped upon it.

 

Lord Naught sat at the desk and sighed. He did not turn to face the lieutenant, choosing rather to cover his face with his hands. He still wore the braids of a Jedi.

 

"Second thoughts, my Lord?" It was not the place of an Imperial to question a Sith on such personal matters, but Broan had yet to fully acquaint himself to his new position.

 

"What I have I told you about calling me that? We're in private, Rochester." He tried, and failed, to maintain a firm tone. In a single swift motion Broan rose and crossed much of the distance between them. Having only recently abandoned the Jedi order he was finding it difficult to control and centre himself. The introduction to emotions he would have otherwise oppressed was unusual and he was often fighting off embarrassment more than anything.

 

"One of your old friends almost started a brawl with my men," Broan stopped at this, a few steps from Rochester, a look of dismay starting to creep onto his face. "Well, I say 'brawl'. We were taking a quick break in a Hutt cantina. This Master... dick came in with a couple of troopers. The Hutts will let anyone in these days," Rochester smiled, trying to make light of the situation. "He blamed me for your leaving."

 

"The Republic's as much to blame as anyone."

 

"Is it?" Broan closed the gap between them, grabbing Rochester by the waist. He was little used to impulsive actions and, at a loss for what to do next, lay his forehead on the other man's shoulder. "I was able to talk my way out of it this time, but I might not be so lucky in the future," Rochester lay a comforting hand on the ex-Jedi's back. "I'll have to limit shore-leave to Imperial worlds."

 

"Don't get hurt."

 

"I'm too expensive - the Navy will have my head if I die." Rochester kissed Broan lightly on the cheek and showed himself out.

 

 

 

I need to go back and read what everyone else has written, but I'm feeling greatly outclassed by the lot of you.

 

I'm intrigued! Very nice!

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I'm intrigued! Very nice!

 

Thank you. Yours was absolutely heart wrenching. I feel as much for Malavai as for Ardyth - there's a lot going on in the background that's very much implied about non-Force sensitive Purebloods.

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My Legacy sisters, Maura and Miriah

 

 

Maura had been three—almost four years old when her mother had brought Miriah home, and Maura had fallen in love with the pink, dark haired infant with silver eyes. Her mother had stayed home for about a week, then gone back to her work, leaving the girls in the care of the droid. Maura remembered when she’d turned six and went to school on her first day.

 

Miriah had come to depend on her for human contact, and on the first school day she seemed okay with the fact that Maura was gone most of the day. It was the second day, however, that wrenched Maura’s heart even after all these years. Miriah had pouted when she saw that her sister was leaving again. “You went to there the day before today,” she’d said, tears threatening. Maura hugged her hard, kissed her cheek, and hurried out, not wanting to be late. Of course, in her haste she forgot her sweater, and had to go back inside. Maura would never forget that scene- the droid in another part of their modest home, and Miriah, clutching a worn stuffed kath hound, sitting on the floor in a corner, her back to the room. Her head hung low, still in her pajamas, her hair matted from sleep. She made no sound, but Maura could see the tears falling, her small shoulders shaking, and she looked so utterly alone.

 

She still felt guilty for leaving Miriah there, even after so many years had passed. That was the day, Maura thought, that Miriah decided she’d have to resolve herself to being alone. Marua softly rubbed her still mostly flat stomach. You’ll never, never have to feel abandoned, little one, she thought. Not even if I have to resign my commission.

 

Edited by Magdalane
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If it helps at all, I don't think he was terribly committed to my Chiss Jedi; in fact I'm pretty sure that once it ends he'll go back to his womanizing ways without too much protest.

 

I'm sure it's an entirely different situation with your Chiss Jedi. (Btw, nice choice on the species :D)

 

Well, seeing as her mother's sisters are adopted sisters, 2 sith, a bh and a trooper, she's well rounded. My JK actually thinks Doc is charming and sweet. Sure, if they weren't an item he'd probably have a girl in every port, but from what I got from him during the courting process, he's head over heels with my JK as much as she is with him.

 

But I do understand your JK might be wondering what crack she'd been smoking to wind up with him. She's not really attracted to Scourge. She only trusted him BECAUSE of her two sith aunts.

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Well, seeing as her mother's sisters are adopted sisters, 2 sith, a bh and a trooper, she's well rounded. My JK actually thinks Doc is charming and sweet. Sure, if they weren't an item he'd probably have a girl in every port, but from what I got from him during the courting process, he's head over heels with my JK as much as she is with him.

 

But I do understand your JK might be wondering what crack she'd been smoking to wind up with him. She's not really attracted to Scourge. She only trusted him BECAUSE of her two sith aunts.

 

In my personal headcanon, Ayang was formerly one of Doc's many girlfriends. She is NOT a fan.

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