#anyway like. i could have deeper thoughts maybe but i can also think about. anakin just crying into obi wans shoulder and then they go home | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tennessoui · 3 years

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FeralObi anon here. How do you come up with these so fast?? Are you an infinite number of ideas and worlds in human-shaped form? I love both of those ideas. The first one kills me tho, Obi gets his first kind touch in years from lil Anakin. Also you can have lil Anakin coming home one day with a skulking, snarling nonverbal murder puppy and saying brightly, "He followed me home, can I keep him?" Schmi thinks this is definitely worse than the time he brought a krayt dragon home.

ah! hello! yes this is the first idea of a feral obi-wan who meets anakin when he's still on tatooine. i will also still do the second idea because like. i liked them equally as much rip me

but i told myself these were going to both be very short snippets and instead this one is uh 2k so i'll post the second one tomorrow instead of tonight!

(ficlet where obi-wan is captured by pirates/unspecified forces at a young age and then tortured for a decade before he escapes to tatooine when anakin is like 6. obi-wan, after a decade of torture is....not alright in this fic though he's only here at the end) (2k)

Shmi had known that when she sent her little Anakin away to follow after the stern-faced, warm-eyed Jedi Master, that this would not be the last time she ever saw her boy. She couldn’t explain how she knew, just as she had not been able to explain how she became pregnant, but she knew beyond a doubt that one day, she would see her little boy back in her arms.

She just hadn’t known it would be so soon.

“He died, Master Jinn died,” Anakin mumbles into the front of her dress, unwilling to move his head far back enough from her hug that he could talk clearly. “On Naboo. And the stupid Jedi council refused to train me even after I was so amazing in the air. Mom, I destroyed a blockade! Entirely! And they wouldn’t--they didn’t--” his little face scrunches up and then he’s bawling into his hands.

A slave, a born slave, knows intrinsically the injustice of the galaxy. It is not often they know hope.

“Oh my boy,” she whispers, smoothing a hand over the top of his head. She has questions. She has so many questions about everything he’s just said and what those strangers have put her son through, but the most important thing is a question she cannot wait until he has cried himself out to ask. “Is your chip gone, Ani? Did they remove your transmitter?”

Because she had sent him away from her so that he could be free. And that had been her own twisted version of hope, that her son could know a life she never would again. If the Jedi masters had proven to be just like every other master in the world, she would find herself sobbing into her own hands.

“Yeah,” Anakin sniffles and wipes at his ruddy cheeks, pulling back a few steps. “They removed it and everything. And--”

He pauses and drops his satchel to the ground in front of her. “They gave me credits. To buy you. For my trouble.”

He spits out the last three words like they’re the most disgusting thing in the entire world. As if Shmi’s freedom isn’t laying at their feet, mere centimeters away.

“Republic credits are no good here,” she hears herself say faintly.

“Padme, the handmaiden you met, she talked to the queen about me I guess,” Anakin mumbles, kicking his feet. “And when the queen learned that the Jedi didn’t want me even after all that, Padme says the queen says I’ll always have a place on Naboo. Me and my family. And then she took the Jedi credits and gave me these instead. It should be enough, Mom.”

Shmi sits down on the floor. With shaking hands, she opens the bag and looks inside. Yes. Yes.

There’s more than enough.

There’s enough to buy her freedom and take her boy away from Mos Espa. There’s enough to take her boy away from Tatooine completely.

“I…” she says. “Ani, I…”

“Padme said she’d send a ship for us,” Ani reports as if their lives are not changing right in front of their eyes. “In two days ‘cause I told her it might take a little bit of time to get Ben to come with us. But we can’t leave without him.”

This is said fiercely and with his arms crossed tightly over his little chest.

Shmi stares at him.

“I’ve already left him once!” Anakin says, stomping his foot. “But that was okay, because I knew you would bring him food and water and stuff. But if we’re both gone, no one’s going to be there for him.”

Shmi bites at her lip. There’s a lot of things happening very quickly right now, and she doesn’t know how to process half of them.

Her son has come back, after only being gone for a week and a half.

He has apparently either endeared himself so much to the queen of Naboo that she was willing to give him the money necessary to buy his mother from slavery and also promise him sanctuary on her planet. He says he’s done this by single-handedly ending a blockade, which is something she just cannot even think about right now.

He has told this queen--queen--that he will gladly live on Naboo with his family. Yes. Alright.

His family seems to include his imaginary friend, Ben.

Anakin has been talking about Ben for years now, ever since he was six and a half years old and sent by Watto to retrieve any scraps he could from what looked to be a crashed pod in the Wastelands. She’d let him ramble on about the ghost of a friend, because she’d known it to be something all children go through and experience. She hadn’t thought Anakin a lonely child, not with the friends he made in Mos Espa, but she’d always known that Anakin had a wandering spirit, ill-suited for Tatooine. If he liked to imagine an older man from a strange world hiding in the caves of the Wastes, then she wasn’t going to say anything.

“You have been leaving him food, haven’t you, Mom?” Anakin asks, almost accusatory. “I told him to expect you and everything.”

No. Shmi has not been traveling to the edge of the Wastelands every day during her precious few hours of free time in order to leave food to be picked apart by womp rats and desert critters and not her boy’s imaginary friend.

“Ani,” she says cautiously, quietly, “we cannot...we won’t be able to bring Ben with us when we go.”

Anakin, predictably, does not react well. “Why not!” he yells, backing away from her even further and looking as if she is the enemy. “Padme’s fine with it!”

“Aren’t you a little old for imaginary friends?” Shmi asks desperately, feeling cold suddenly even though the heat of the mid-morning sun has not abated at all.

If anything, her son looks more offended. “He’s not imaginary! Saying...saying that he’s not coming with us...is...is a bunch of poodoo!”

“Anakin!” Shmi gasps.

“Come on,” her boy says forcefully, grabbing at her hand and tugging her towards the door. She gets on her feet reluctantly and has half a mind to pull back just because he needs to learn that this sort of behavior is not okay, war hero or not. “We’re going to buy you from Watto. And then we’re going to go visit Ben!”

---

Buying her freedom takes less time than Shmi Skywalker ever thought it would. It feels distant as well, as if it’s happening to someone else.

It doesn’t help that her Ani is impatient and surly by turn, spilling the coin out onto Watto’s counter and barely waiting for him to finish counting it before he’s looking at the price of renting a four-person speeder parked outside.

“You won’t survive out there on your own,” Watto sneers, even as he’s passing her the kill-switch of her own slave chip. “Days. It’ll be days until the Hutts find out there’s a newly freed slave with no connections out there in the open. Ripe for the pickin’.”

Watto doesn’t have to tell her any of this. She knows. Gods, does she know.

But Anakin seems so sure about possessing the favor of the Queen of Naboo, or at least her handmaiden, which might be close enough to the same thing. She thanks Watto--she thanks him and then doesn’t even know why--and meets Anakin outside.

He’s bouncing around the speeder, little hands clutching his satchel to his chest. “Good!” he says when he sees her, hopping onto the machine and putting the parcel between his feet. “I got Ben something called a fig on Naboo, but I don’t know how long it’ll take for it to go bad. Apparently they’re sweet.”

Shmi goes along with it. Shmi doesn’t know why she goes along with it, but she does. She can see this is important to her boy, and though she’d rather spend the afternoon and early evening saying goodbye to her friends, she will allow Ani to say goodbye to his imaginary friend. Maybe she’ll even talk to it. “Hi, hello, I’m so glad you’ve enjoyed the imaginary blue milk and delicacies I’ve left out for you this past week and half. Oh no, it was no bother. My son insisted.”

The ride is quick--Anakin has always been a driver to push the limits of any engine he comes across--and before she knows it, he’s dismounting on a piece of desert and rock that look exactly the same as the last four pieces of rocky terrain they’ve past.

“Ben!” Ani calls, satchel clutched firmly in his hands as he makes his way deeper into the crevices of the landscape. “Ben, it’s Ani! I’m really sorry that I left! Ben? Ben! I’m back now! Ani’s back!”

It’s actually...quite pathetic, to watch her boy speak so pleadingly to the cold stone faces of the rocks around them, but if this is what he needs to do to say goodbye to his life on Tatooine, Shmi won’t say a word.

“Ben--” Anakin draws in a breath to call again, but then there’s movement out of the corner of Shmi’s eyes, and something jumps from the rock down to land on her boy.

She screams and darts forward, but the thing on top of her son snarls at her in guttural warning.

“No, Ben,” Ani coos, stroking at the face that yes, is human, now that it’s not in unnaturally fast motion. “That’s my mom, Ben.”

Ben--Ben??--growls anyway, pinning the boy--her boy--beneath him with his legs and arms.

“She’s fine,” Ani murmurs gently, one hand reaching up to stoke over the beginnings of a beard on Obi-Wan’s face “Oh Ben, I’m sorry.”

The man on top of Shmi’s child finally looks away from her and at her boy, which is both better and worse.

“Ani,” Ben drawls out, as if the word--or perhaps forming the word--hurts him.

Anakin is happy. Shmi can tell he’s happy without even being able to see much of him. It’s like the very air vibrates with his joy. “Yes!” her son says. “Ani. Ben.” He taps the man’s chest. “Ben. Ani.”

The man buries his head into Anakin’s hair, hands rubbing up and down his sides and his arms and his face.

Shmi needs to say something, wants to say something about this strange man touching boy like he owns him, but the memory of his growl and the flash of his golden eyes stops her from stepping forward.

“Anakin, get away from him,” she hisses instead of stepping forward and tearing the stranger off of her son. She has the distinct feeling Anakin wouldn’t let Ben go anywhere, not with the way his little hands are holding so tight to the man’s shoulders. The man’s shoulders that are covered with one of her old tunics that Anakin had told her became unsalvageable after its last wash.

“No,” Anakin says, tightening his hold on his...friend. “He says you didn’t give him food the entire time I was gone! He’s hungry.”

Shmi thinks there’s a very good possibility that this Ben is going to eat her, but she knows not to say anything of the sort. Not when it’s two against one.

“He hasn’t said anything!” She cries instead.

Anakin huffs at this and pats at the feral’s head. “Maybe not to you, but he talks to me.”

Shmi stares at him and wonders if there’s something she’s supposed to be doing or saying here. The man won’t allow her to tear him off her child, she knows that automatically. But she can’t--she doesn’t know--

“Anakin,” she tries, desperately.

But Anakin doesn’t even look at her, too busy petting over the man, who has at least allowed him to sit up. “Hey, I’m sorry, I thought she would,” he tells him in an undertone. “I really thought she would, but I’m back now. I’m not going anywhere without you again--”

He extends his hand and Ben presses his cheek against it with enough force that it pushes him back slightly.

“You’re coming to Naboo with us, Ben,” Anakin promises, clutching at the ends of the man’s long hair. “Or I’m not going at all.”

To Shmi, it sounds like a threat.

The way her son’s eyes flash an unfamiliar golden color makes her feel cold as a Tatooine night. She shivers, but no one notices.

#asks #feral!obi-wan #cw: torture aftermath #its really quite vague tbh #i wanted to use shmi as a narrator because i never really have before #but that means nothing but shmi's perspective gets shared #i mean obviously #but its defo outside perspective here #but this was fun #im not gonna tag it as obikin because anakin here is nine #but yeah i see them living on naboo and healing together from their traumas #and being the most important person to each other #and eventually when anakin is like 25 maybe even older #they kiss #but that's the story i didnt write lmao

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arsonistvoyager · 4 years

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A Jedi for a Clone Pt. 2 // Captain Rex x Reader

pairing: Rex x Reader

If you haven’t already, read part 1 here!

Summary: Rex sits down and is determined to talk to you about some unpleasant things that happened on Umbara — you’re ready to slice his head off.

a/n: Thank you all so much again for the feedback on the first part! They definitely boosted my confidence a lot and as a result I picked up writing regularly again after a long pause. A lot of you wanted a second part and I also wanted to go a little deeper into their relationship so here we go! I hope you all like this one just as much.

taglist: @starflyer-104 @mangoberry43 @kaminobiwan

“Master I did it! You saw that right? Mention it to Master Luminara when we’re back in the temple! I heard Barriss when she was gossiping about me and I want her to know that I improved.” One moments negligence and you landed flat on your back with one of your lightsabers flying upwards, before falling down and crashing with your nose and landing next to your head. “Ouch!” You managed to catch the other one before it fell on your face as well. It was worth it since you had dodged the blaster hit but in the end you had landed on the ground anyway.

Master Krell had put up this exercise for you, which required you to stand on a bunch of unstable crates that got continuously smaller, the higher you got to practice your physical balance as well as your ability to control the force while reflecting blastershots. On top of that of course you had to do it blindly.

You pulled the blindfold down your face while extending your hand into the direction your lightsabers were lying and wrapped your fingers around each of them.

“But that’s not fair. I thought the last one had hit the blasterdroids main computer... it shouldn’t have been able to function anymore!”

Your Master was sitting a few feet away from you, his legs crossed and his eyes closed – potentially trying to meditate.

“Didn’t sound like that now, did it.” You frowned, sitting up and facing him, unintentionally mimicking his pose. “I’m tired. I’ve been trying to balance on that pyramid of junk half the day now.” “Patience, young padawan. Experience is your greatest asset.” Your Master hadn’t opened his eyes yet. “I don’t need patience when I wield the force.” You gripped your stomach the moment it started growling quietly. “But maybe I need some lunch.”

Master Krell opened one of his eyes and smiled. “How about this. If you manage to meditate with me for at least 10 minutes without any interruptions I will take you to Dex’s Diner.” Your eyes widened in disbelief and excitement. “Really? Okay!” Shortly after you rose to your feet and took a few fast steps forward before swiftly falling to the ground right next to your Master and adopting the same position he had. “Remember Padawan. Patience.” You smiled back at him. “Yes, Master.”

Your lightsabers shined brightly as you polished them for the 4th time in a row. They had not even been dirty in the first place. Maybe some light dust had settled on their surface when your shuttle had landed on Arami and the wind had blown up dirt from the ground. But it was certainly a good distraction and an even better way to calm yourself. You sat far from where the rest of the battalion had set up their campfires.

The Clones sat around several fires in their own little groups and your enhanced hearing allowed you to hear the conversations they were having. Half of them were about missions, attacks they had used, stunts they had pulled, people they had flirted with. Normal clone-talk you assumed. The other half of them were about you. And you had to admit it was almost cute how they thought you could not hear them, or that you were too occupied with cleaning your sabers to pay attention to your surroundings. Because of course they thought like that. How could simple minded beings like they were understand how a Jedi’s mind worked. Maybe they didn’t even care.

Your movements slowed down and you stared at your shiny reflection on the metal of one of your sabers for a brief moment. Then your eyes shot up and landed on a particular clone with bleached blonde hair. You didn’t like how he had been able to sneak up on you earlier. Nor had you liked the way he had observed you in the tent when you were discussing battle strategies with Skywalker.

Speaking of the Jedi General... Out of politeness Anakin had sat next to you and talked to you – you of course not saying a word but that did not seem to bother him a lot. He had excused himself earlier to take what he called a very “important and unpostponable” holocall. The blonde clone, Rex, had risen to his feet immediately and asked if he needed his help. Skywalker had glanced your way for a second and assured him that he did not. Reluctantly Rex had sat down again.

Now, almost 20 minutes later he hadn’t returned yet and you were sitting alone, watching Captain Rex. Most of the clones had taken off the upper part of their armor, so they were sitting in their blacks, seeming relaxed.

Your eyes trailed down for a second, noticing how the clothes outlined their muscles. You wondered how many scars the fabric hid. And where those scars were.

It didn’t take long for Rex to notice the stare you were sending his way and he shifted around a little before looking back to you. Unlike you he couldn’t hold it out for too long. It kept shifting into other directions and back to you.

One of his brothers with a goatie was telling a story to some shinies, a wide smile on his lips. Something about dominos. Whatever he meant by that. The goatie-guy stopped talking only for a second, when Rex leaned towards him and said something not audible enough for even you to hear. Shortly after goatie shrugged his shoulders and continued talking. Rex however stood up. Your eyes narrowed into slits before widening slightly. No no no. Had you sat in the dark too long and your eyes were deceiving you? Or was that reckless bastard actually walking towards you?

You gripped your lightsabers tighter, the closer he got and finally lowered your gaze. You did not need to see him to know where he was. One or two steps were left when you ignited both of them, a bright luminous blue hue falling over your features and lighting up the area around you. Rex stopped dead in his tracks and you noticed him shaking slightly, before composing himself again. A dozen pairs of eyes turned towards you, half of them were smart enough to look away again and pretend they didn’t see anything.

Your gaze was locked onto the bright blue light. “What do you say, captain?” His title left your lips with a hint of venom. “Are they clean enough?” With that your eyes wandered up to him and stared back right into his. Rex gulped. This was an awkward position. Although he was the one looking down on you, the power was in your hands.

An uncertainty crossed his mind. Would you be bold enough to hurt him? In front of his brothers? He knew they would not hesitate to defend him and stand up to a General – not after Umbara. But he was also convinced you could take them all on. He had heard your stories. And General Skywalker was nowhere near to help.

“Yes, General.” You didn’t turn off the lightsabers. Nor did you speak. But you stared at him and held him frozen with your gaze. This time, he told himself, he would not fail though. He was gonna speak to you one way or another. “Would you...like to join us, General?”

You sat in silence for what felt like minutes before furrowing your brows.

“What did you just say?” You could tell he was getting more nervous by the second. Very slowly and almost intimidatingly you swung your lightsaber, while tilting your head ever so slightly to the side. “I didn’t hear you.” His eyes followed the blade of your weapon and you could see a pearl of sweat roll down the side of his face.

“I asked...If you wanted to join my brothers and I. At the campfires I mean. It seems cold and lonely here.” He was getting braver, the longer he stood there without you mutilating him.

“We also have spicebrew if you would like some.” Your gaze was merciless. “Drinking the night before the mission, Captain?” His eyes dodged yours, looking to his right side, then his left, then the ground and then his right side again. “Uh...No I mean yes. But. We would enjoy it, if you just sat with us. It’s an honor to work with a Jedi…” Your other lightsaber rotated clockwise in your hand – his eyes followed the motion. “Quite like you.” “Cut the flattery.” The surprise made him look right into your eyes. “I’d rather meditate.”

The next thing he did surprised you to say the least. Rex sat down opposite of you. “Then do you mind me sitting in your company?” Now he was the one looking up into your eyes, as you were sitting on an old log. Your eyes narrowed once more. “What are you trying here, clone?” Before he knew it one of your lightsabers was pointing at him, resting inches from his chin in front of his neck. “Don’t mistake my professionalism for kindness. I don’t trust your kind.”

Rex, though trying his hardest not to move, seemed weirdly calm about the situation. As if somehow he knew you would not kill him on the spot. “Can I ask why that is, General?” He almost whispered, as he was too scared to strain his vocal cords too much. The fear of them being sliced by the jedi weapon still present.

Your eyes were burning now. “You’re asking me that? You’re actually asking me why?”

Now he had done it. You were angry. So angry. Who did this guy think he was? He was surely trying to provoke you. Where the hell was Skywalker? “Need I remind you it was one of your kind that murdered my Master in cold blood? Did you forget that already? Maybe your cloned brain doesn’t hold enough capacity for that.” Rex bit on his lip. He would not let your words get to him. Besides him and his brothers were pretty much used to distrust and mistreatment from the republic and its organic citizens.

“Who told you...about what happened on Umbara, General.”

“The council of course.” You lowered your lightsaber when you realized the other clones slowly stopped their conversations. Seeing the deadly weapon not in lethal proximity of their captains head anymore had a majority of them pick up their talking again, though many eyes continued to linger on the two of you.

“Did they leave out the part where he told us about abandoning the Jedi to join the new order he thought would rise to power?” For the first time since Rex had looked back at you from all the way over at the campfires it was you who looked to the side. Not wanting to look into his eyes this moment. “Master Krell was confused. The light would have surely found its way back to him.” Your features hardened. “Not that the council would have let him try…” you mumbled, more to yourself, than to Rex.

“But who are you to judge about that, clone.” Your eyes landed on Rex again. They still burned with hate but he was a lot calmer now that he had seen the glint of vulnerability in your eyes and was a little more certain that you would not try to harm him. Rex stood up and your eyes followed his. You did not move when he walked over to you and sat down next to you on the log. Your lightsabers, though, were still ignited and if it came down to it you would still be able to slice his head off clean.

“Did they tell you about the way he had us kill our own brothers?” You stared at the blue hued ground in front of you. That’s not quite what they had told you.

A mission gone wrong. False Calculations. A deception of soldiers and an unlawful decision by Master Krell that had led to a horrible string of events which obliged the soldiers to act on their own. That’s how the council had worded it.

“Surely you know General Kenobi. The 212th is his battalion. Many good men I knew. Waxer he...was a good man. Always tried to do the right thing. Always followed orders. The last time I saw him I watched him bleed out. on the ground of enemy territory.” You noticed him grip his left wrist in his right hand. He was nervous. And scared. But you had not killed him yet, neither had you screamed at him to shut up. So he continued.

“The betrayal he must have felt in that moment…” Rex rubbed his face. “General I know you don’t like us. Not a lot of people do. But we have each other and that gives us strength. We’re bred for war. And we fight without complaining. But we’re no tools. We still feel. And sometimes...sometimes I wish we wouldn’t.”

Waxer cried in his last moments. Knowing the few people he trusted had fought him with the intention to kill him” He looked away, then towards you and you turned to face him as well. His eyes were...sad. “General Krell ordered this attack on both sides, knowing fully well what was gonna happen. I hated him for what he made us do. I hated him and I wanted him dead before he could hurt any more of us.” You tensed up at the images of your Master being shot. “And I achieved that. I was the one that killed him, General. I didn’t enjoy doing it. And I am sorry about it. Not because he is dead, but because he was important to you. And you lost him because someone else made the decision that he did not deserve to live.” By now tears were building up in your eyes.

“He could have…” You couldn’t even finish your thought. He was right. They weren’t tools. And if anything they deserved their free will. Master Krell had taken that from them. But were you ready to admit that? The Master Krell you knew was kind and compassionate. The Master Krell you knew had let younglings climb onto his 4 arms and swung them around like they requested, while they laughed. The Master Krell you knew had taken you to Dex’s Diner because it was your favourite and had laughed when you told him he’d probably look like Dex himself if the Order hadn’t trained him.

But then he was forced to fight in this stupid, seemingly endless and catastrophic war that raged across the galaxy. Was that enough to change a person? What if the Master Krell you knew was nothing but a memory.

We’re bred for war. No one had given the clones a choice when the war had started. You didn’t notice it but Rex did. The eyes you were looking at him with now were not filled with rage, nor hatred. They held empathy and maybe – confusion.

“You have every right to hate me. But forgive my brothers. None of us ever wanted this.”

None of you said a word but what could you have possibly said in this moment. So you stayed silent and so did he. The more you looked at him the more you started to notice how genuine he seemed. How desperate for you to understand. And how beautiful he was.

You tightened the grip on your lightsabers once more before you stood up and turned them off. Silly thoughts. Looking over your shoulder back at him you looked him over once more. This man had killed your Master. And your Master killed his brothers. “I’ll decide that myself.”

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a/n: Again I wanted to include so much more in this chapter but after reaching 2000 words I told myself to stop lol So I definitely have a third chapter planned out where I wanna get into a more romantic vibe! I’m so sorry if this feels too dragged but I didn’t wanna feel like I was forcing something too quick (I mean even that “how beautiful he was” felt kind of rushed ahh)

#star wars #star wars the clone wars #sttcw #clone wars #clone troopers #captain rex #captain rex x reader #captain rex x you #reader #star wars rex #clone wars rex #fives #clone wars x reader #star wars x reader

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crispyjenkins · 4 years

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I’m resending it now! ok so what if for some reason Obi’s lightsaber either gets destroyed or the crystal stops resonating with him & He’s with Jango who goes with him to wherever the force guides him to find his new crystal at & like Obi goes through some wack vision/trial from the force and when he gets through it his new crystal reveals itself and it’s the same type of crystal like in the dark saber? And Jango is just losing it when he sees it bc he thinks “HOW?! but also, That’s HOT” hehe

(my DUDE i’m so flippin glad you re-sent this, i’ve had to force myself not to write this one so i could get other people’s prompts out, and i was at first unsure of how to spin this, but holy FECK is it all i can think about now. i just. i just want to write so much of this obi. i’m sorry i didn’t get to jango much, but you bet your butters he and obi are connected every which way in this, in ways beyond force bonds because i’m a dramatic bitch.

i hope y’all enjoy this one as much as i did!!)

edit 6/26/20: this is now part of a full fix-it! you can read it as it updates here on my Ao3! updates on fridays.

Illum is colder than he remembered, though the last time Obi-Wan had been here, he had not feared wrapping himself up in the Force. It’s been... Force, he hasn’t been back since after Melida/Daan, and something in him breaks again at the thought that he’d lost the ‘saber that had been with him for more than a decade. But, no, a lightsaber is a small price to pay to have saved his master.

His former master. He isn't Qui-Gon’s apprentice anymore, Anakin had made sure of that.

Obi-Wan had been sent to Illum alone, no younglings in need of making their first ‘saber, and no one else needing to replace theirs; Anakin has a few more months in the crèche before he can build his, and Obi-Wan can’t thank the council enough that he doesn’t have to walk the caves knowing his replacement is somewhere doing the same. With Qui-Gon still in the Halls, Master Plo had stepped forward in offer to knight him, and had almost had to fight Master Depa for the honor, which was... strange. He’s used to quite the opposite of masters fighting over him, but an amused Yoda had almost used his lineage status to refuse them both for himself instead, until Mace, as Master of the Order, had given the right to Plo Koon. And Jedi do not gloat, but the Kel Dor had certainly been smiling behind his mask.

The doors to the caves open easily despite the ice, so maybe his great-grandmaster had been right about Obi-Wan rebuilding his lightsaber before his knighting ceremony. This thought doesn’t settle the feeling of intruding when he steps over the threshold, the marrow-deep feeling of being an imposter in one of the most holy places in the galaxy.

The kyber hums around him, as if he wasn’t at this exact moment considering walking away from the Order.

He’s hardly a proper Jedi, is he? Killing a Sith with a sai tok, falling in love with Satine, holding a grudge against a nine year-old freed slave for taking his master away from him. Hadn’t he drawn on the dark side to defeat the Zabrak? Killed him not out of duty to his vow but in revenge for the fallen Qui-Gon? His lightsaber might have cauterised the wounds, but he has blood on his hands all the same.

So he keeps walking, refusing to touch a single crystal he passes. The Force tugs him deeper into the caves anyways, and he has half a thought to ignoring it (does he even deserve to listen to it anymore?) but for all his tumultuous thoughts, Obi-Wan is beholden to the Force, beholden to the grip it has in his viscera.

He follows it as his breath forms clouds before his lips, frost on his skin that he cannot even feel. Where would he go, if he left? Stewjon is insular, they would not want him back, but he cannot stay at the Temple. Naboo, perhaps? Padmé would surely welcome him, but could he really settle down on such a peaceful planet after spending over half his life running around the stars with his master?

Closing his eyes at the memory of Satine, he allows himself to... consider it. Would she still want him? They haven’t spoken since, but sometimes he can feel her in his mind still, a little warm bud that could bloom, if he let it. And even if she threw him out, Mandalore isn’t a bad place to restart.

“Could I really?” he muses out loud, stepping over a great crack in the stone floor and setting his feet to follow a barely-there path towards the lake, only for the Force to have him veer away from it. Could he really give up being a Jedi? After every trial the Force had put him through to even become an apprentice? Oh, but he had tried so. kriffing. hard. to get this far, could he really do anything else?

He swallows thickly and almost desperately pulls the Force back around himself, as if in apology, as if in repentance, as if anguish—

Peace, it whispers, brushing over his mind even as it sinks claws into his ribs and pulls him up short.

Obi-Wan is twelve again, wind whipping around him as the Jedi transport takes off from Bandomeer, Qui-Gon Jinn staring down at him. Force, but he hasn’t ever felt worse than when he feels their raw bond stretching with distance, yanking deep in him until he’s breathless, doesn’t Master Jinn feel it—?

And Obi-Wan is sitting in the living room of their Temple apartment, kneeling on his cloth meditation mat across from Qui-Gon’s bamboo one. His master’s warmth surrounds him in a glittering cloud of comfort and ease, and they’ve been at this for five years now, and still Obi-Wan holds this as his most treasured memory, something to cling to when things seem desolate or he’s been arguing with Qui-Gon, or—

He’s in the glass city of Sundari, brushing a hand over Satine’s cheek as she laughs, and Force, she’s even more beautiful than he remembers— She’s dying in his arms, bruises violent red around her throat, a sizzling ‘saber wound through her middle, and she’s beautiful even now, oh Force not like this—

Obi-Wan is older, his joints a little creakier, his hair grey at the temples, and he has a beskad sticking out of his chest. Above him is a boy that looks suspiciously like him, red hair and green eyes but with Satine’s lips and eyebrows. Korkie, the Force tells him, as the boy leans over Obi-Wan and why is he angry? Ah, so this blade had not been meant for him—

Anakin, little Anakin with a padawan braid beams up at him in a training salle with a practice saber in his fists. Obi-Wan moves to correct his kata, and though he’s... sure he had never learned this from Qui-Gon, he knows it’s Form III, he knows it’s Soresu like he knows his own name, like he knows the padawan bond in his mind and the warm nova glow of Anakin attached to his core—

Obi-Wan is an old man, seated on a perfectly smooth grey stone above a green, green cliff battered by ocean waves and briny air. He meditates with the knowledge he had come from here, the Force here as close to home as he could ever hope to achieve. He had not searched for the family that left him on the Temple steps, and that’s just fine by him, he could not have asked for a better place to begin his seclusion studies than Stewjon—

Obi-Wan is an old man, seated on a perfectly smooth red stone, the desert cliffs around him worn smooth from the sand that batters around him, ripping through his robes but never touching his skin. The Force is feral here, claws and bone and teeth teeth teeth, but somewhere out in the dunes, there shines Luke, pearlescent and good and proof that Obi-Wan has not failed just yet.

Satine is screaming at him as she shoves Korkie behind her back and raises a beskad that seems wrong, wrong in her hands, but he doesn’t have time to think about his heart wielding a blade, when he’s wielding the darksaber, whistling as it cuts through the air against Tor Vizsla, why had they trusted him, he knew he could not be trusted, and now his family is going to pay the price— His ‘saber, black as space, connects with Vizsla's, black as night, and Obi-Wan is not wielding the darksaber, but something else entirely, with a beskad’s edge, with a hum that’s almost a scream, that moves towards the darksaber with the intent to shatter—

A Mando in blue and silver beskar’gam hands him a hilt, hammered durasteel wrapped in black leather, so unlike any Jedi ‘saber hilt he’s ever seen, but Obi-Wan knows it’s his from the way it sings, the way the Force insists it’s his his his—

The blue and silver Mando with his helmet off, a man so unspeakably gorgeous that Obi-Wan wonders how he even copes— The Mando’s gloved hand grips Obi-Wan’s wrist, the face he knows so well twisted into dread and anger. Don’t go, they beg, but Obi-Wan must, he cannot abandon Mandalore, he cannot—, Don’t you realize that Zabrak’s fucking crazy? Obi-Wan, he’s going to kill you—

Obi-Wan is older, but not much, pinned underneath blue and silver armour as Sundari glass and blasterfire rains around them—

Obi-Wan watches the Beautiful Mando sleeping with his head pillowed on Obi-Wan’s arm, a new scar curling through his eyebrow that he hasn’t asked about yet—

A mini Beautiful Mando eyes him suspiciously, hands on his hips while his buir stands behind him and tries not to laugh—

Obi-Wan is on Illum, but he is not, he weaves his way through dusty streets he has never seen before and yet knows the way by heart, following that heart towards the hangar where his aliit waits. He has beads braided messily in his hair, twisted by pudgy fingers insisting Obi-Wan deserves to look just as pretty as his buir; that durasteel and leather hilt bounces against his hip, and he has a single blue and silver gauntlet on his right arm. He is a Jedi, the Force assures him, in the way light bends through him, but he is also Mando’ad, he knows that without needing to ask. He belongs to a planet and to a people that he did not start with, in a strange Force-willed way that he can’t explain, and he’s a Jedi, but he knows he has a family waiting for him in an old police craft. A black-bladed ‘saber hums at his side.

Obi-Wan opens his eyes in front of a rock wall, glittering kyber in every colour rising up the sheer face until their little lights disappear into the darkness far above him. Just above eye-level, there is a small crater in the wall, as if the rest of the kyber cannot grow around the single crystal at the crater’s center.

It is opalescent and space-black, and looks as if it had been cut for a piece of opulent jewellery. The Force whispers heart heart heart, and he supposes it does look the size and shape of a beskar’ta, and isn’t that fitting?

When he reaches out to take it, the white glow at its edges seems to suck in the light from around it, and it sings higher than any crystal he’s ever touched, whistling trials and heartbreak and pain and blood, but also love and laughter and family, if he lets it form the notes just right. It sings in Mando’a, in war gods and clans and beskar, and it sings for Obi-Wan alone.

- Across the galaxy, Jango wakes on Jaster’s Legacy in a cold sweat.

Translations/Other: sai tok — the ‘saber move of cutting an opponent in half, frowned upon by the Jedi for its roots in the dark side. beskad — traditional Mandalorian curved saber made of beskar. allit — Mando’a for “clan” or “family”. buir — Mando’a for “parent”, gender neutral. beskar’ta — Mando’a for “iron heart”, the elongated hex-shape common in Mandalorian armour designs (great post here comparing them to katana tsuba). also called ka’rta beskar or “heart of the iron”. Jaster’s Legacy — Jaster’s old ship that Jango found and used post Galidraan, and pre Slave I.

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nimsajlove · 3 years

Text

Searching for Dogma (II)

Had to take a break because my hand diceded to just give up. Still hurts, but it is bearable now.

I don’t know where this will take me, but I want Kamino to be a dark place and I will try to achieve that.

Brothers-AU Ao3

Part I, Part III

Dead bodies are involved!

*~*

The light from the holoprojector cast Ahsoka's study in a pale blue light. "You have to keep low, since the war has sped up the Kaminoans are a little... irritable about the clones.", Shaak Ti explained sternly and Ahsoka nodded curtly, arms crossed protectively over her chest. If the Jedi Master noticed her trembling fingers, she would have to throw the mission overboard. But as it was, she made only a few conditions. "I won't go alone, I don't know my way around the city.", Ahsoka said. They were both silent for a while, Ahsoka weighed her choices. Fives was out, he had already caused a stir and she trusted the Kaminoans to disregard the opinion of a Jedi. She couldn't take the other Dominoes with her either, that wouldn't be fair! Then Jesse was the next choice, and probably the best. "I'll take Jesse and R7 with me," she announced and Master Ti nodded carefully. "That's good, I'll prepare everything for your arrival."

That ended the conversation and only when she left her room did she find herself thinking that they hadn't exchanged a word about a cover story. Well, she'd come up with something. Even though her thoughts ran around in circles the whole time, her feet carried her purposefully to the quarters and she breathed with relief, Jesse was there. That would save her long search. Only marginally did she recognize Kix, who had stuck his nose into his datapad but was still listening to Jesse with a smile. She was almost sorry when she broke the calm and frantically pulled out her bag. "Jesse, get up and get ready.", she ordered and saw from the corner of her eye how the ARC crawled confused out of his bunk and, without asking further questions, put on his armor with quick movements. Kix also started to get up. "Where are we going?", he asked and Ahsoka stopped working. Did she really want all of the clones to know where she was going and what she was looking for? Was she really going to do this to Kix? First raise hopes, only so that she would return empty-handed... "Can you please go and tell Rex something?", she asked carefully and stuffed her datapad into her bag last. Jesse was already standing at the door and waiting for her, his face tense and his shoulders slightly hunched. She was sorry that he had to accompany her search. "It depends..." Great, she knew that look! She had to be careful or Kix would just be with her thanks to his stubbornness. "Tell the Captain that I'll get my information." Her voice was stiff and had the desired effect, taking Kix and Jesse off guard. For months she had treated the men for who they were. Her family. This was wrong, but it served the purpose. Kix nodded and, satisfied, Ahsoka threw her bag over her shoulder and pulled the hood over her head. "Come back in one piece!", the Medic threatened behind her and then the door slid shut behind her and Jesse.

On the way to the hangar, Ahsoka picked up her comlink. "R7, get the shuttle ready." Jesse grumbled behind her, but followed closely on her heels. His hand almost touched her arm, and although there was an uproar in her head and stomach, her shoulders relaxed a little. It was good to know, that Jesse trusted her. As they entered the hangar, she quickened her pace and hurried past the figures around her, including Fives and Hevy who watched her with a confused look. While the young woman got into the shuttle, Jesse paused and exchanged a few brief words with the other ARC, then followed her.

Since her time as a padawan, Ahsoka has associated hyperspace with periods of rest, but today her fingers twitched nervously as she initiated the jump. As soon as the stars blurred outside, she got up quickly and walked into the small room behind the cockpit, her eyes fixed on her datapad pacing up and down the small room. "Hey, any explanation of where we're going?", Jesse commented through the open door between them and Ahsoka chewed on her thumbnail as she scanned a report with her eyes. Shaak Ti had helped her get all the information she could get her hands on. "Kamino.", she mumbled and Jesse made a thoughtful expression, he turned to the side in the chair to watch her, while he supported himself with his forearms on his knees. "That's not a good idea.", he stated, without knowing the reason for their trip. Both knew that he was right anyway. Training Jesse to become an ARC without the Kaminoans discovering the missing chip had been tricky and difficult enough. Going back to this place now wasn't just reckless, it was simply stupid. But Jesse watched the young woman pacing up and down. Like an animal that had been locked up too long. And when he thought about the Order and the war, she was just as trapped as all the clones. Her shoulders were hunched protectively and her eyes were full of worry, perhaps a touch of panic too? "Should we fly home?", the clone suggested quietly and gently, he knew exactly when Ahsoka had last been so upset and he didn't want to experience something similar again. With the others she was safe, surrounded by her family and not by scientists who would stop at nothing. But no sooner had the words left his mouth than Ahsoka's head snapped up and her gaze pierced him. "No! We have to go there and see what we can do! What if we turn around now and-” She broke off and stared past Jesse into space, a handful of images in her head. They repeated all over again. The death of Echo, the loss of Hardcase. A seriously injured soldier of the 501st. Ahsoka had to admit that she had never seen him again after his removal and hadn't asked any questions at the time, but now?! Perhaps he had succumbed not to his injuries but to his creators!

Before the panic could settle deeper inside her, two hands grabbed her and shook her shoulders lightly. How nice, that Jesse didn't tear her out of her panic attacks as roughly as Kix now and then. Just remembering it, she unconsciously rubbed her cheek, even though her brother hadn't lifted his hand. "Stay with me, okay?", Jesse ordered quietly and she nodded dully before she let her head drop forward. It came to lie on his shoulder, the plastoid under her forehead was cool and she took a deep breath, using the feeling as an anchor for reality. She hadn't had a panic attack in a while... "Who are we looking for?", her brother asked softly and gently he held her shoulders upright, the gloves were warm in contrast to the rest of the armor. “Brothers, friends. All we can find."

The weather on Kamino hit her hard. The tension was accompanied by deep sadness, but she didn't even know why! Even before she or Jesse could get up, they heard the ramp open and Ahsoka hastily pushed her way out of the cockpit, Jedi Master Shaak Ti stepped onto the ship. She looked at the young woman for a moment, then spread her arms invitingly. And although the thought of the Jedi Order still made Ahsoka startle, she sank into the tight embrace and when Shaak Ti hummed softly and the unnaturally deep sound vibrated through her Montral, tears came to her eyes. This wasn't a hug from a brother or a friend like Anakin Skywalker. This was a mother's greeting, protective and warm. Ahsoka gave a dry sob and was very small, as long before the clone wars began and the older Togruta gave her the comfort that even Master Plo Koon could not give her. Then the moment was over and she collected herself before stepping back with a shudder until Jesse's hand landed on her shoulder.

"I'm so sorry.", the Jedi Master said softly and Ahsoka shrugged her shoulders hastily, that's not why she had come! "Did you find out more?", she asked quietly and Shaak Ti shook her head sadly. "No, unfortunately not. We will have to get you into the cordoned off area, after that you will be on your own."

Ahsoka had come to love and hate nothing in recent years like air ducts! Taking a deep breath, she propped herself up on her forearms and waited for Jesse to catch up with her. There was a narrow grille in front of her, and the corridor below was only dimly lit. Nobody seemed to be in this part of the complex that late in the sleep cycle... When Jesse touched her foot and she knew that he was ready too, she carefully took the grate and lifted it out. Even on Kamino, no one bothered to put these things on properly. She would not complain, finally coming out of this narrow shaft appeared to Ahsoka as her primary goal and as soon as the exit was clear she crawled head first and landed almost silently in the corridor, in fact there was no more light on in any Room she could see. All that lit up the corridor was the soft night lighting, which made the white less shine. Even the Togruta's sensitive eyes stopped hurting. "Catch me.", Jesse muttered from above her and she looked up hastily, her brother was dangling from the shaft and would never make the landing in his gear as quietly as the Jedi. When he was sure he had her attention, he let go and immediately Ahsoka caught him and set him gently on the ground with the Force. Both looked around searchingly, there had to be clues somewhere! "Can you read that?", Ahsoka asked softly and nodded to the dark writing on one of the doors, she was not familiar with the language and she could not remember having seen it on Kamino before. Jesse shook his head. Maybe that alone was a clue! Why would the Kaminoans use a different written language in this section if they had nothing to hide? If she was lucky… She went closer to the door and looked at the keypad next to it, she would definitely not be able to bypass that easily, right? Everything here was so smooth and perfect… "Move.", Jesse muttered and she made space for him in front of the keypad. "The long necks think they are so smart.", he mumbled and gently pried open the case. Ahsoka looked at the cables behind it and was relieved, most of it seemed vaguely familiar to her. Perhaps, if she was just careful enough... She stuck her hand into the tangle of cables and felt around a little until she found the connector that controlled the lock, at least in the Republic. With a jerk she detached the two cables and a quiet click brought the news of her success. She was giving her brother a big grin next to her, he tilted his helmeted head a little and she recognized the eye rolling, as steps rang out. Ahsoka heard them much earlier than Jesse and hastily opened the door to push the clone into the room in front of them. She locked the door behind her. "What's that supposed to be?", the ARC grumbled and immediately her hand flew in the air and demanded for silence. She stayed at the door for a few tense heartbeats, but the steps seemed to be moving away again.

"That was close.", she mumbled, rubbing her slightly damp hands on her pants dry as Jesse gasped behind her. "What the..." She looked up, he had taken off his helmet and was staring into the room, she followed his gaze quickly and froze. That wasn't a room, that was a hall! A thing larger than the hangar on their cruiser. The light was subdued and kind of blue... The latter came from the tanks, which reflected the weak light and spread it everywhere. Ahsoka didn't even try to count all the tanks, there were so many! And there were figures floating in it, apparently lifeless, and cautiously she stepped closer to a tank in the front row and put a hand on the glass. She studied the face of the clone in front of her with wide eyes and anger welled up inside her. These weren't bacta tanks trying to help the men. She looked at the quiet face of the man, without any kind of equipment and completely calm, in the Force he had no longer any presence. He was dead.

#star wars #clone wars #tcw #ahsoka tano #clone trooper jesse #Kamino is dark and nothing will change my view at it #dead bodies #dead troopers #shaak ti #brothers-au

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stonefreeak · 4 years

Text

Wheee! Another update is here! I hope y’all will continue to enjoy this fic as we move forward!

When the news breaks that the case against Mas Amedda and Former-Chancellor Palpatine for corruption charges will go to court breaks, it explodes across the holonet like a supernova.

The recent arrests and trials of Senators from all over the Republic, the arrests-in-absence of Senators formerly of the Republic and currently of the Separatists have been making headlines for weeks, but before now there has been nothing about Mas Amedda or Palpatine themselves.

If there had been nothing to substantiate the claims, the investigation would have ended now with no charges being brought forward against them. The investigation would only have caught these other people, and so far only sent other people to trial. So for this too to come a trial... Well, clearly that means that there is a case against them. There is evidence to be found.

The people start to wonder how far the corruption goes, how big a web it has woven, and how many of the already arrested and sentenced Senators have testimonies against Amedda and Palpatine.

News anchors argue and debate each other into exhaustion regarding what this means not just for Amedda and Palpatine themselves, but for the Republic and Senate at large. If the two who were the most powerful beings in the Republic are found guilty on corruption charges... Does that mean that the Separatist worlds who chose to try and leave the Republic in protest are right?

Or does it mean that someone, Count Dooku perhaps, saw an opportunity to gain power by playing on the corruption they saw in the Senate rather than work towards eliminating those issues from the inside?

~~~~

Obi-Wan doesn't have much time to spend watching the holonet, but what little he sees is enough to exhaust him. He's unsurprised, but he's also worried. He doesn't know what the investigation has found—as he shouldn't, per due process—but he knows the possible ramifications of a guilty verdict.

Yes, the Republic is under new leadership, certainly, but many, if not most, senators remain unchanged. How many of them were in Palpatine or Amedda's pockets? How will this affect the peace discussions and reintegration of returning separatist worlds?

How, exactly will the neutral systems—if there truly can be such a thing in a conflict like this—react? Will some of them finally take a stance beyond "we will not fight"?

He shakes his head and moves out of his chair, to sit down on the floor instead.

He moves into his most favoured meditation position, and tries to clear his mind. He'll need to work through his emotions and thoughts one by one, lest he gets overwhelmed.

He's needed more meditation than he's needed since childhood after his near-death experience. His connection to the force has been shaken, and he's been shaken. It takes him far more effort than usual to calm down.

Perhaps he'll speak to one of the Temple's mind healers when he gets the chance. It is usually a good thing to do after you've faced your death in such a stark way, he knows that.

Still. He's so busy. It feels almost wrong to take any sort of time off between all of his responsibilities.

Hah, no doubt Master Yoda would hit him in the shin if he heard that, and then give him a long-winded lecture on the impossibility of helping others if you do not care for yourself.

"There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no death, there is the Force," he mutters the mantra over and over as he sinks deeper into meditation. Blast and the others will keep watch, and Obi-Wan has it on good authority that Waxer and Boil's treatments are over and they're back on duty as well. He has good men at his back.

There is no need to worry.

~~~~

Anakin stares at the newsreel, uncomprehending.

Mister Palpatine has been arrested, awaiting trial.

It's as if all of his thoughts need to force their way through stone to make sense. He's... blank.

This can't be!

There's no way Palpatine is guilty! The investigation is probably just arresting him and Amedda and setting a trial date due to outside pressure. That's it. Of course.

The trial will just prove Palpatine innocent. They just have to do it. Perhaps there's some doubt in his position due to corruption among his aides. That has to be it.

Palpatine wouldn't do something like this. Anakin knows he wouldn't.

He paces back and forth in his rooms, unable to settle down. He's close to bursting with frustration and agitation and he can't hope to meditate on his emotions as Obi-Wan would tell him to when he's this upset. Meditation is for calmer mindsets.

Perhaps he can talk to Obi-Wan... Or Padmé.

Or maybe both of them?

That... That would be good. That's what he needs right now.

He picks up his comm and sends a group message to them. Byt the Force how he hopes they'll agree. There's no way he can deal with this alone. Palpatine has been his friend and mentor since he was a child... This is just too much to deal with.

Obi-Wan said it was his duty to start the investigation due to the Vote of No-Confidence, but there's no way he thought it would find anything. He can't have. Palpatine is one of the only politicians worth trusting in the Senate.

Surely Obi-Wan knows that?

He's always allowed Anakin to go visit Palpatine, even when he was a child, so he couldn't have thought anything was suspicious. The same goes for the Council for that matter!

They would have stepped in and refused Palpatine's requests for Anakin to visit if they thought he was corrupt. The Council hates politics outside the Order, and they always speak of the need to root out corruption.

They must have found Palpatine trustworthy then, and he's done his best since he became chancellor—no matter what Senator Mandai thinks.

It'll... It'll be fine.

Anakin swallows harshly and clenches his fists in his hair. He just needs to talk to Padmé and Obi-Wan.

He's too ashamed to face Palpatine—Obi-Wan got him into this situation, and Anakin has always vouched for him with the former chancellor—even though he knows his friend probably could use the support. Palpatine is strong, he can no doubt manage until Anakin gets a grip on himself.

~~~~

Padmé watches the news as they break. Former Chancellor Palpatine has been arrested and placed on house arrest pending the trial.

She presses her lips together and fights down the fear and anxiety she feels at the news. She knows Palpatine used the occupation of Naboo to further his career, so in a way she's not... She's not surprised that the investigation has found something...

But at the same time... Using an existing tragedy that you cannot make undone anyway is not the same as actively corrupting the system. Padmé should know, her own career has been helped by her hard work in disaster zones. So even though she knows that Palpatine used her—used Naboo—the thought that he may be entirely corrupt...

It feels foreign. It feels wrong.

It's as if there's an itch in the back of her head, as if there's a voice whispering to her to tread carefully, to doubt everything, because who knows who's truly to be trusted?

Her head hurts.

Her heart hurts when she considers how conflicted and hurt Anakin must feel right now. As if her husband needs more on his plate. One of his dearest friends possibly being a criminal of a terrible degree won't be a devastating blow to him.

She picks up her comm and looks at it, wondering if she should send him a message. He probably needs her, right now.

They never should have married.

At least then that would be one less thing weighing on him. At least then there might be a chance for them, for the dream of a happy ending.

She chokes back a sob. She must be strong.

Anakin will need her to.

~~~~

Bail listens intently to the report, drumming his fingers against the top of his desk. So the corruption stems as far as this, does it?

He glances down at the files and notes Miss Marili gave him just before the explosion in the Senate Office Building. He's still going through them to verify their validity, but so far everything checks out, and her own notes and thoughts are very astute.

Bail has always known, taught as such at his mother's knee, that if you want to truly know what goes on in an institution, you ask the aides and the lower-ranks—those who fade into the background. After all, who thinks of what the secretary overhears when they walk inside with documents? Or even what they can piece together they remain at their station by who comes and goes. Miss Marili, currently the aide of Senator Jacks of Belazura and the former aide of Senator Larr of Saram, is an excellent example.

Her information is very interesting indeed, and dates back decades.

Bail wonders just what it was that caught her eye, what sent her looking in the first place... But he's yet to hear that story from her. He's also curious as to why she came to him rather than Senator Jacks, but it's possible that it's due to his position as a Core World Senator.

And possibly his known friendliness with the Jedi—definitely important considering the content of her research.

Still, Bail can't make any moves as of yet. The information may check out for now, but who knows if she's hidden some falsehoods that could prove damaging within it. After all, she is an unknown factor, and Bail knows very little about her.

In fact, how Bail does not even know how she ended up as Senator Larr's aide in the first place, considering how young she must have been at the time. Perhaps her family moved to Saram at some point. That could, of course, be how Senator Larr found her in the first place since a Twi'lek family taking up residence rather than just going on holiday there would likely draw attention. Aside from the native human population few make Saram their permanent home despite its popularity as a vacation planet, as far as Bail knows.

Regardless, her mysterious past and everything else together makes for quite the puzzle.

Perhaps she'll trust him with the truth at a later time—though no doubt will he need to prove himself first.

All in all, the political situation on Coruscant is growing increasingly complex, even when you don't take the currently ongoing civil war into consideration.

~~~~

So those cretins think they've found something on him, do they?

Well, they'll certainly see about that.

Palpatine has made damn sure that anything more than slightly frowned upon will fall entirely on Amedda. The fool was always set up to take the fall should something go wrong and Palpatine's plot was derailed—as it has been.

At most Palpatine himself will receive a slap on the wrist and an admonishment to hire better staff.

Even so, he suffers the utter humiliation of being stranded on Coruscant, wearing a prisoner's bracelet to ensure he cannot leave the planet. They'll all suffer for this humiliation, the lot of them. Palpatine will grind Kenobi's skull to dust for daring to set this farce in motion.

Blasted Jedi.

He'll bathe in their blood and relish in every single second of it.

—

(Supreme Chancellor Obi-Wan Kenobi masterpost)

#Supreme Chancellor Obi Wan Kenobi #my writing #star wars #obi wan kenobi #padme amidala #anakin skywalker #bail organa #palpatine #update

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levitatingbiscuits · 4 years

Text

accidentally posted the original response too quick and had to delete the ask oops

here’s the prompt from an anon: “For Jangobi prompts? ...War prize Kenobi Au? Honestly anything more with that dynamic from the end of your last prompt fill, where Obi's drugged/vulnerable and Jango's the one in control and being creepy but also on the surface being reassuring and gentle and protective but like... is the one who drugged him or messed him up. Bonus points if Obi's getting cognitive dissonance on top of everything because his lightsaber crystal is freaking out at him.”

ok so there’s gonna be some potentially triggering stuff so im putting this under a cut. im not super experienced writing really creepy dark stuff but we’ll see!

Obi-Wan doesn’t know where he is.

He groans softly. He feels like he’s in the vacuum, floating aimlessly, with no sense of direction or purpose. In the distance there’s something singing indistinctly, high and sharp and distressed. He wants it to stop. He wants it to get closer.

“Shh, you’re all right,” someone says softly, brushing a bare hand over his skull. It drags strangely against the skin there--stubble? He shouldn’t...

Right. Hardeen. He’s Rako Hardeen. He’s in prison.

Right?

“Wha’ ‘appen?” he slurs, jaw too slack to fully close his mouth. He has to work hard to maintain Hardeen’s lower, raspier tones; they don’t come as easily as they should. “Who...”

“None of that, now, Kenobi,” the person chuckles, fingers tracing over one heavy eyelid. “Hardeen’s tats didn’t suit you, and neither did his voice.”

Obi-Wan’s stomach turns to lead. He knows he should be reacting, denying, but he feels too foggy to work up anything other than dread.

“You look younger without the beard. Kind of miss the hair, though.”

What did every Mandalorian he knows have against beards?

Ah. He recognizes this person, after all. Even if his eyes won’t open, he hears his husky voice every day, even if his signature is as wholly unique as each one of his clones. Deeper in a way that only comes with age.

Obi-Wan is excruciatingly aware that Melida/Daan was not his only time leading an army of children.

“Fett...?”

“Got it in one,” Fett confirms smugly. He’s still touching his face. Obi-Wan wishes he still had a beard to hide behind; no one’s touched him like this since he last saw Satine, and that skin to skin contact is overwhelming.

“Thought you defected from the Separatists,” he mumbles, trying to turn his face away from that warm, broad hand. It just falls to the side of his neck.

Obi-Wan had told Fett to leave Geonosis, to take his child and run from whatever Dooku had planned for them. He could sense Dooku’s intentions for the boy were nothing good. Fett hadn’t listened until the battle in the arena, when Obi-Wan found the boy hidden on the sidelines and watching, and yelled for him to leave before he got hurt. Fett had been fighting Windu, and turned when he heard Boba’s name; Obi-Wan managed to deflect the master of Vaapad’s saber right before it went through his neck. He couldn’t let a child witness their father’s death. The family of two vanished, and Obi-Wan figured that was the last he’d see of Jango Fett.

He was wrong. He seemed to encounter Fett everywhere; on the battlefield, on diplomatic visits, with kriffing Hondo Ohnaka. The worst time was when he’d had to deal with Fett and Quinlan Vos on the same horrible mission. It was uncanny. Anakin sometimes joked that Fett was following him.

He has the sinking suspicion that Anakin’s jokes might not be far off the mark.

“Heard you died,” Fett says, as if that answers his question. He presses his fingers a little more firmly into Obi-Wan’s throat, as if to feel his pulse. “Wasn’t happy about it.”

“Why?” he asks, unthinkingly. Fett loathes Jedi; he killed six of them with his bare hands. He could so easily make that number seven.

Fett’s grip on his throat gets just a little tighter, then relaxes and moves to curl around the hinge of his jaw. He stays silent.

Obi-Wan wets his dry lips with his tongue, and tries again. “How did you find me?” His eyes finally manage to crack open, though his vision is hazy and unfocused. He can’t make out Fett’s facial features.

“Broke into the temple for a souvenir. Overheard you calling Windu.” Fett sets a thumb into the cleft of Obi-Wan’s chin, tilts his head up just a little bit. “You gotta stop using the same name when you’re undercover, Ben.”

Obi-Wan’s pulse jumps against Fett’s fingers, and he laughs almost fondly. “Don’t worry, I didn’t break your cover. It worked too well for me. I just broke you out of prison and let everyone else think you’re still dead. Fixed your face while you were out, too. Hardeen’s a rough looking ge’hutuun, ‘specially compared to you.”

Obi-Wan takes a breath to respond and Fett’s thumb moves to his bottom lip, stroking it just a little. His voice catches in his throat.

“Got the souvenir anyway, just in case. Had to keep Boba from chopping a leg off. Maybe you can teach us how to use it; Vizsla’s getting a little too comfortable with my Darksaber.” He sets a heavy, familiar hilt on Obi-Wan’s chest, keeps it from rolling off when Obi-Wan’s limbs refuse to cooperate.

The kyber crystal sings shrilly, urging him to run, but he can barely make sense of the song, can barely sense anything at all in the Force.

“We’re gonna land soon,” Fett says, his other hand still splayed on Obi-Wan’s chest, over his saber. Over his heart. “Gonna put you back under till I can get you fitted for a collar. Boba’s excited to see you again; I don’t let him around spice, so he’ll have to wait. You’ll be shaky for a while, but you’ll get clean easy.” His voice darkened with rage and old hurt. “I know plenty about spice, thanks to Kyr’tsad and Dooku. You’ll be fine with me.

I’ll make sure of it.”

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dew-itowo · 4 years

Text

As The World Caves In part 4

Cody; It’s been and honor... Sir...

The alcohol stung the back of Cody's raw throat. From screaming his pain away. Screaming at you because you didn't understand how much Rex had meant to him. He sat there, drinking, smoking, doing anything other than thinking about his dead batcher, and failing. Smoke rolled off his lips like the thunder that threatened rain off in the distance of his office. Of course, he was destroyed over Rex's death. He and Rex had practically adopted you when they met you. Not taking your hurt into account he selfishly, drunkenly, took his out on you like some abusive father. But never laying a hand on you. He fumbled with the medallion you'd gifted him after his promotion to Commander.

"What's that Ad'ika?" The commander said, scooping you up from where you stood. Only a little girl at the time. Maybe Ahsoka's age. Maybe younger. Giggling and squirming in his arms you tried to hide the present.

"Nothing Kote. Just uuuh, a thing." You lied wonderfully. Cody smiled brightly as Rex jogged up the hill to where they stood. His riduur looking like he'd just run the mile four times.

"Force you're a fast little shit, you know that right?" Rex panted as you buried your face into Cody's chest plate, smiling like the it was Life day and you just got the best present. "FYI they'll leave you in their dust Codes." Cody laughed, throaty, deep, and beautiful. It always made you feel better hearing that man's laugh. Rex moved forward resting his hand on your shoulder as he kissed Cody's cheek. "How's my Marshal Commander?" The captain cooed lightly. Cody smiled brightly.

"I'm better than I'll ever be with you two." Gods wasn't that the truth~

The height wasn't too far up from where he stood. Maybe 50 meters up. The whiskey burned sliding down his throat again. Thinking of you. Thinking of everything you gave him and Rex. It hurt to do this to you, but he couldn't take living with his husband. Afterall the war was ending and now clones would be needed after the fact. It was entirely selfish to believe that he might save you from more hurt by jumping now, when Obi-wan his best friend and your master was to be coming around tomorrow morning with reports. He'd most likely have you with him. Another chug of the whiskey made his groan. If it wasn't jumping that'd kill him, it'd be the alcohol poisoning.

"Cody? Do you like being a clone?" You asked one evening while nestled between an exhausted Rex and Cody. The latter being fast asleep while he held you close to him. Cody looked away from his datapad with a thoughtful look.

"What do you mean by that Ad?" He asked, combing his hand through your hair. You leaned into his touch looking down slightly, away from his eyes. "Do I like being a clone, as in do I enjoy being a soldier?" You nod slowly. "Well of course I like being a clone. Hell if I wasn't I would have you or Rex or Obi-wan. Yes I hate watching my Vod leave me, but it's a natural thing, and we we're all born to die. Clone or not." He admitted, leaning his cheek on your head. "How could I not love being a clone when I have everything and more right now."

You smile feeling him kiss your forehead. Your eyes growing heavy with each passing second. "I love you dad." You slurred already half asleep, unaware of what you just said to him. Cody blinked for a moment before answering.

"I love you more than anything Ad'ika."

"Promise?"

"Cross my heart."

His com chirped with another message from you. Surely you were petrified thinking this was all your fault. It hurt Cody to think about it. But you are a strong kid, you'll move on. Eventually at least. He was afraid of hurting you any further. He was afraid of you hating him for what he was deciding to pull. Rex would kick his ass into next week if he caught him doing this. Even as a kriffing ghost he might shove his foot up his ass. The thought drew out a small laugh from Cody thinking about how funny Rex was.

They were pinned down by droids. All sides as you sat there trying to come up with a plan. Anakin sitting with you spewing out idea with Ahsoka. When Rex spoke up. "Hey, Let's do get help." He grinned at Cody.

"What?"

"Get help." Rex repeated smiling more. Cody frowned.

"No~" Cody breathed, thinking about what happened when they did it last time.

"Come on you love it." Rex chuckled. Cody looked at the ground trying not to meet anyone's gaze. Because Get help was not something you did in front of your general's.

"I hate it."

"It's great, It works every time."

"it's humiliating."

"Do you have a better idea?" Rex asked, knowing fully that he'd won. Cody sighed in defeat.

"No." He admitted. Rex smiles.

"We're doing it." The captain smiled.

"We are not doing Get help." Cody affirmed one last time. At least trying to sound like he wasn't going to anyway.

The doors hiss open as Cody hung onto Rex's shoulder. Rex acting panicked he held onto Cody's arm. "GET HELP! PLEASE! MY BROTHER IS DYING!" Cody rolled his eyes internally as he played dead. Stumbling along with Rex's steps. The battle droids all confused by what was going on. "Get Help! Help Him!!" Rex yelled as he threw Cody at the line of droids. Bowling them over as Rex pulling out his twin DCS add mowed down the rest around Cody who laid on top of the pile of droids he was just thrown at. You and the rest of the men enter the room. You ran over to Cody asking if he was okay frantically. Rex chuckles putting his blasters away. "Oh he's just pouting because I threw him like a bowling bowl." Cody grumbles a death threat as he gets up. Rex laughs. "Oh hush, you could never kill me. I'll kill you first Cyar'ika."

Cody choked on a broken sob as the last of the memory echoed in his mind, "I'll kill you first Cyar'ika." the whiskey tasted like veno on his tongue. his com chirping with panicked messages from you now. Maybe others. He could hear Obi-wan's ring playing along with yours. He must be worried now. All he wanted was to lay down and die in peace, but he couldn't do that with you panicking and worrying about him. It sounded horrible, but what world is there to live in when he's lost what he loves must. Along with hurting you.

"Go Away!" He yelled throwing his empty whiskey bottle at the com. Instead of shutting it up, it hit the call button. Great, just what he needs right now. Human interaction.

"Commander?" A familiar voice said over the com. They sounded half asleep whoever they were. "Commander are you alright?" He said sounding an awful lot like Kix. Oh not good. Kix was a kriffing bloodhound when sniffing out hurt vod. Especially emotionally hurt one. "Cody, you there vod? Are you ok?" Sounding fully awake now the clone could be heard moving around, with another asking what was going on in the background, possibly being woken up by the movement and talking. "Cody?" Cody wasn't there, physically maybe but not mentally or emotionally. He didn't want to ask for help, though he knew he deeply needed it. He wasn't that kind of person to ask another for comfort. He'd always had Rex to just give it to him when he noticed the signs. He could tell Kix was getting worried now. "Cody are you there, is everything okay? Are you hurt?" Hurt is metaphorical. Pain is rhetorical. and self loathing is literal. So which was it?

"Can you tell them I'm sorry... I didn't mean to take it out on them. They never deserved my anger. Please tell them I'm sorry." Kix knew what was going on now. Quickly he could be heard jumped out of his bunk and his feet hitting the floor hard.

"Cody stay on the line. Just keep talking to me." Kix spoke in his medic voice, sweet like sugar followed with a great sabbac face. He knew Kix was panicking now. He didn't have far to run, they were all in the same barracks. But the offices where high over them. "Cody you there Vod?"

"Kix, it's okay I'm fine." He lied, looking over the railing of the small balcony that every office had. Officers offices also had a living quarters if they hose to stay there, which Cody had since he and Rex wanted a private place for themselves.

"Where are you right now." Kix breathed hard, he must be running. "Cody keep talking to me, tell me whats going on."

"I miss him... So much..."

"I know, I know you miss him. But It's going to be okay listen to me. I promise it's going to be okay." Kix was in the lift now, he could hear the doors closing. But the pocket knife was already in his hand. He didn't want to be saved. But he also didn't want to hurt anymore.

"Kix tell them that they mean the world to me. And that I'm sorry." Cody choked out at the blade touched his underarm. The thin layer of skin protecting his veins and artery being pressed in. He could feel Kix's panic now. He knew he was scaring the poor medic, but this needed to be said. "I don't want them to know what I did so I want you to tell them I went in my sleep." The blood started to bead up now, pressing harder the blade cut deeper into his wrist. It didn't hurt much since he wasn't sober or in his right mind at all.

"Cody listen to yourself vod, do you hear what your saying?" But Cody didn't care what he heard. He knew Kix well, and also knew he wouldn't stop trying to save a goner until they died in his embrace. A small whimper escaped Cody. "Cody I'm in your corridor. You better be there when I bust down your door."

"Or what." He dare challenge the medic now. Blood dripping continuously from his wrist, deep slices bleeding heavily. he'd felt the pinch when he cut to deep, he knew he wasn't going to survive this. "Are you going to decommission me?"

"I sure your trying to decommission yourself as we speak, but no, I'm going to help you." The lock on his door unlocked as Kix keyed in his code. "It's going to be alright Cody."

"Nothing's going to anything sooner or later Kix."

"Don't give up on me."

"I give up a long time ago, I just had my husband to keep me from offing myself." He growled through welling tears, he hated crying. It pissed him off. But only when he was one doing it.

"Is that it, was that all Rex was to you?" Kix yelled now as the door hissed open. He then saw the mess the office was, holes in the walls from punching them, empty bottles of liquor everywhere, and Cody sitting on the balcony stabbing his arms as his mask cracked entirely. Kix ran towards him, realising his med kit wouldn't help this at all. "Cody no, stop, now!" He shouted grabbed the Commander by his untouched wrist and twisting in sharply to make him drop the pocket knife. A broken sob exited the commander's mouth as the knife fell to the ground. Landing in the messy pool of Cody's blood. "No, You di'kut!" Cody felt very light headed. Dizzy too.

"I told you I'm sorry. Please don't be mad with me." He sobbed, Kix cupped his cheeks holding him up when his legs gave out.

"No vod, no I'm not mad at you. You okay, your going to be okay." He chanted as he dead gifted Cody off the ground. He'd never seen Cody this broken before. It hurt him.

All of Cody's words became gibberish soon after that, just holding onto Kix as he carried him to the med bay. He felt so pathetic as brothers from his battalion and the 501st stared in shock. Watching the as his blood left a trail on the white permacrete. They knew a goner when they saw one.

Cody watched the brothers as he passed by, his eyes becoming very heavy suddenly as Kix chanted stay with me closer to his ear. He could only imagine it being Rex's voice. Maybe that'd help to stay. Why did he want to say though? Why was he listening again?

He could see the white walls of the medbay now. Sick brothers watching as the commander is carried by their medic, his blood staining the white tile as they passed by. Kix's talking became hard to hear the closer they got to where ever they were going. All Cody thought about was You and Rex.

Rex laid with you in his arms, you slept peacefully as both of them watched the night shift in morning. Dreaming about the stars and what they meant.

Cody was laying on a cot now, and you were next to him. Why were you there? When did you get there? Words seemed to jumble up inside his head. Breathing became harder as he heard you say his name.

"Amazing grace, how sweet the sound. The save a wretch like me." They sang as the shots fired for him. He watched as they folded his flag. The Coruscant emblem with the GAR emblem in the right corner. Cody held you close as you sang. Rex had always loved it when you sang. He must love it now, Cody thought as a sneaky tear rolled sown his cheek. Gods he must be laughing right now, watching grown men cry over him. Hell he must be having a blast. It made Cody smile thinking about it.

He smiled as a tear dripped down his cheek. Holding your hand in his good one the words suddenly starting to make sense. "I'm so sorry for what I did, I didn't meant to make you mad. Please Cody don't you leave me too. I'm afraid of being alone." You sobbed holding his hand.

"But you're not alone, yeah I may be leaving you. But my caring will always stay for you, as will so many others. I should yelled at you. It wasn't your fault, never had been. I was just so mad. I'm sure you could understand." He whispers to you. "Be to honest, I'm scared to be alone too."

"Then why leave me?" You sob.

“When someone leaves your life, those exits are not made equal. Some are beautiful and poetic and satisfying. Others are abrupt and unfair. But most are just unremarkable, unintentional, clumsy.” He breathes out, feeling his eyes grow heavy. "But as long as you remember them, you'll never be alone." His smile was bright as he cupped your cheek softly. You leaned into his touch. "I was an honor... Sir..." He slurred as he finally let go.

#cody x rex #sad #sw

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raja-myna · 4 years

Text

yesterday is long since lost

FINALLY got this thing done!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25070434

Anakin – and he is Anakin, even if that name feels a little bit like putting on a shirt he had thought he had outgrown – knows that he’s messing up. When he first realized what had happened, that he really had come back, he had been grateful that his body had collapsed under the weight of his future memories, leaving his subconscious mind to slowly make the connections and let him wake up again. He had thought he was prepared for it, when he shook off the last of the sleepy haze. The phrase ‘rude awakening’ turned out to fit almost too well.

The two weeks that it had taken for his body and mind to acclimatize to each other proves itself to be so far from enough. He’s jittery, uncomfortable in his own body (and it’s his body again, more flesh than metal, inescapable marks of betrayal (but whose was it really? Not Obi-Wan’s, he knows now, and that thought cuts impossibly deeper than ever) erased) with its lack of aches and pains, and reflexes that no longer match flesh limbs.

Rex knows something is up, but military discipline keeps him from asking, at least for now. Ahsoka knows something’s up, but she’s still too relieved that he’s okay (and hah, if only she knew) to push.

He thanks the Force that Obi-Wan isn’t here, because even though they’d made some sort of peace at Anakin’s funeral pyre and after that, he doesn’t know how he would react to seeing his former Master with them both alive again. Obi-Wan also likely wouldn’t hesitate to call him out on his poodoo. Oh, he’d be diplomatic, and he likely wouldn’t push if Anakin reacted badly, but Anakin still isn’t sure he could take that.

When they had been dead there hadn’t been much to do but make peace. Now, alive and with the Clone Wars barely halfway through, Anakin is realizing that a lot of their peace had come from the fact that nothing they could have done would have affected anything in the end. That calm understanding that had come with being one with the Force is gone as well, and Anakin’s love for and rage at his old Master are dueling for prominence. His guilt wants to land on the side of his love, but his anger has always run hot. He fears seeing Obi-Wan, for he truly cannot tell whether he’ll be angry, snappish and rude, or if he’ll want to fall to his knees and cry.

There’s enough of Anakin wanting to cry as it is.

It had been hard, seeing Ahsoka, seeing Rex when he first woke up and truly getting hit with how he had failed them. But they had been the lucky ones, in that awful future. They had gotten away.

Seeing Coric in the medbay, seeing Kix… that had been worse. Kix had been gone before Anakin Fell and Order 66 was executed, they hadn’t even found a body. Coric had died two years later, two years of living not unlike a battle droid covered in flesh, with only the barest glimpses of the man he really was underneath the weight of orders and grief he wasn’t allowed to understand.

Grief that none of the clones were allowed to understand.

(Vader had seen Bly. He had seen Shocker. He had seen Cody.)

(He had seen all those who had eaten their blasters as the chips died, never actually intended to survive past usage – just like the clones themselves.)

Vader hadn’t cared, or at least tried to tell himself that he didn’t. Anakin does care. And Force, but it hurts.

The first day Anakin just avoids everyone, using Kix’s orders of rest as an excuse. Facing everyone is… something no amount of preparation could help him with, a punch to the gut and a knock to the head that leaves him reeling. The effort it takes to not simply flee for his quarters actually leaves him winded when he finally reaches the corridor, enters the room, closes the door behind himself and locks himself in.

There’s something wrong with him. Anakin is not reacting the way he should – the way he ought to, having seen so many ghosts in so short a time. His mind is a mess.

Meditation does not come easy.

He forces himself into it, in an attempt to reconcile the different parts of himself. He is Anakin, jedi general, student, teacher, husband, lover, twenty years old and so arrogant. He is Vader, sith apprentice, failure, world-weary, beaten down, a monster shackled to a madman… a father, in the end.

He is Ani, slave boy, who cares so much and loves so deeply but doesn’t know how to handle it, never learned how to grow it, only hoard.

(If you love something, let it go.)

(He let Luke go, in the end. Let his son choose his own path and…)

I am a jedi, like my father before me.

Sleep doesn’t come at all.

Vader has spent literal decades hating his past, weak self, disgusted with the man who couldn’t even save the single most important person left in his life, who had lost everyone else along the line. Past-(present-?)Anakin is horrified by what he became, by what his future self allowed himself to be twisted into. Ani doesn’t understand, doesn’t want to understand how it could have even happened.

It’s a good thing self-hatred is nothing new to him, he thinks, because that is the common point that finally allows him to reconcile the different facets of himself.

That’s kind of sad.

It’s also awfully appropriate, in a twisted sense.

The second day he tries to play at normalcy and heads to the bridge. Ahsoka tracks him down when he’s alone during a quiet moment and hugs him until he stops trying to make her let go. Her relief broadcasts in the Force and their bond alike. Anakin… lets himself hold her, and heal, just a bit. Then Kix finds them and sends him back to bed. It’s enough to make Ahsoka laugh and think everything’s back to normal. Anakin lets her believe it.

He heads back to his bunk, and since Kix is a suspicious one, wise to the ways of his jedi, Anakin has company the entire way.

“Forty-eight hours of rest,” says Kix dryly, “and a visit to medical. Neither of these has been completed, and you’re still obviously tired. Get some more sleep, sir, or I can’t clear you.”

“How about just the visit to medical?” Anakin tries to bargain.

“Sir, I know disasters tend to strike like clockwork around here, but please. Nothing will happen if you just get some more rest.”

And despite Kix all but punching fate in the face and yelling ‘come get me’, nothing does happen. Anakin meditates some more and actually manages to grab a nap as well.

When he wakes up it’s shipboard afternoon. He heads down to the hangar, and instead of attempting to work on the Twilight like he planned to, he finds himself drawn into a discussion with three of the troopers (Lyn died on Umbara, Bell was lost on Mandalore, while Flipper had marched on the temple and not died until after more than five years of atrocities in the name of the Empire).

He failed them. The thought hovers in his mind even as he gets more involved in the debate. He failed them like he failed all his men, Ahsoka, Obi-Wan. Like he failed his mother. Like he failed Padmé. Like he almost failed Luke, like he did fail him several times.

The storm of emotions is like a vibroblade to the gut and Anakin claws desperately at it, keeping it from showing either on his face or in the Force. He almost pulls away again, until Bell’s words cut through him like shards of glass.

“-but not this time!”

Bell punctuates his words by punching the air. They’re talking about marksmanship contests now, but Anakin cannot fully restrain how deeply it hits him. His expression must twitch, because Bell turns to him, eyes wide with feigned upset.

“You think I can’t, General?”

Flipper nudges him. “The General simply knows better than to put his credits up on the word of such an… unreliable source.” The grin is contagious, and Anakin finds himself smiling as well, grounding himself in their gentle teasing and free-flowing affection.

His failures feel further away and, desperate to keep that feeling, he does what he always did best – jump without looking. “Well, maybe I can help make it less unreliable.”

“Sir?”

Anakin’s mouth really ran away with him this time, but something tells him that this is good. A comfortable warmth that sits in his gut, the Force whispering in his ear, Bell’s disbelieving – but growing – excitement. “You’re off duty. I have some spare time. There are several training halls available.”

Not this time. He failed them all then, but not this time.

It is with a strange sort of budding contentment that he puts Bell and several other clones through their paces in a training hall. He’s doing something, changing something, and it’s such a tiny difference but it’s a difference. Anakin can’t do a lot from here, not yet, but this – being with the men, helping them – is something he can do.

For the first time since he woke up, Anakin feels like he’s doing something right.

Nearly an hour after they began, Anakin catches sight of Rex by the door. The expression on his face is one part amusement, one part ‘I know what you’re doing’ and about five parts exasperation. It’s familiar despite the years, comforting, and Anakin laughs before he can even register the urge to.

The next moment he freezes because – how long has it been? He catches himself almost immediately and excuses himself from the practice session. They can continue without him anyway.

By the door, Rex’s amusement sharpens into instant hyper-awareness. Anakin starts running through the excuses he’d hoped wouldn’t be necessary.

Rex’s care for his jedi is something Anakin has been in turns awed, perplexed and humbled by. Now, his worry is just as humbling, but it is also troublesome. In the end, Anakin finds himself released to medbay only because Rex too is still shaky after his coma. None of them are fully back to normal, so Anakin’s issues are easier to hide.

They won’t always be, but Anakin will get better at hiding, too.

He runs into Ahsoka again in the hallway and she immediately attaches herself to his side. The last time he had seen her in that other time flashes in his mind – tall, strong, grieving – and he rests his hand on her montrals, his tiny, beloved padawan who the galaxy has barely even started to break yet.

She’s here.

She is here and he hasn’t lost her, not to his own madness nor her iron-clad conviction that he’s gone forever.

The poisonous thinking that came with the Dark Side is still haunting him, and for a moment he wants to drag her even closer, make sure she could never leave – and then the thought leaves him sick, his hand drops down to squeeze her shoulder and then he lets go.

She follows him to the medbay, where Kix clears Anakin. The clone is clearly reluctant, going by the grumbling, but Anakin is free to return to duty. As such, he is free to check out exactly when it is he has returned to.

The answer… staggers him. It’s the early days of the war, that much had already been obvious in the many presences that had been long gone, but… so many of the bad things haven’t happened yet, so many things he can change, disasters he can undo, lives he can save –

Sidious.

And even though he knows he can’t just rush in, the scene plays out in Anakin’s mind. Since he’d learned about Luke, Vader had ever entertained the thought of killing his Master. And even before that, before Padmé and Obi-Wan and Mustafar, Sidious’ survival had never counted in Anakin’s plans. More than once he had tortured himself with what-ifs… and now he has the chance to make them come true.

Still, striding up to the Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Republic and attempting to cut him down, for all that it would be satisfying, would more likely end with Anakin fleeing from the Coruscant Security Forces with his task still not accomplished more than anything else.

It’s nothing but wishful thinking and Anakin waves it away.

A quick talk with Yularen confirms that they’re heading back to Coruscant. They’re still six days out, at current velocity, something Yularen relays with an apologetic look, since Anakin tends to be eager to get planetside. In this case though, it means there’s only six days to prepare for seeing the temple again, seeing Padmé, seeing – Force, seeing the younglings.

“Master?”

Ahsoka’s voice pulls him out of those dark musings.

“Yeah, Snips?” The nickname rolls off his tongue with reflexive ease, and it is not until it already lingers in the air that he realizes how much it grounds him.

“Is everything all right?”

He could lie. She would see through it, and either let it be or keep digging until she thought she had found out every little detail.

“No.” Ahsoka stops dead and he turns to look back at her, her big eyes even wider than usual at his uncharacteristic honesty concerning his own state. “But it’s getting better.” How can it not?

“…If you say so.”

“I do.”

“Good.”

The ringing silence that follows is belied by Ahsoka’s slow reach for him through their bond, and Anakin’s hesitant reach back, to meet her halfway. Ahsoka smiles at the contact and runs ahead. They’ve ended up by the mess hall and, though it’s still relatively early, there’s more than enough people moving around, grabbing an early meal.

“Glad to see you’re doing well, General!”

Anakin looks up to see Echo. The young ARC trooper has raised a hand to wave a greeting, precariously balancing his rations tray with only one hand. Smile tugging at his lips, Anakin raises his own hand in response. Another fate he would hopefully be able to change. Echo didn’t deserve what had happened to him.

Realization comes a second too late.

Echo slides down on the bench by Anakin and Ahsoka, and Fives sneaks up only half a step behind him. Ahsoka immediately vaults over the table and seats herself opposite Echo.

“Going to join us, General?” asks Fives. Anakin almost chokes. For an instant, Fives has all Anakin’s attention, but just as quick, Anakin turns away.

“Sorry.” he says choppily. “Sorry, I- I have something- I need to- I’m sorry. Later?”

He whirls around and practically flees the hall.

Fives. Oh, Force, Fives.

Anakin hears a hesitant “Is… something wrong?” from Echo, but escapes before he can hear Ahsoka’s response. Yes, something’s wrong. Something he’d managed to avoid thinking of entirely, but that he now can’t escape.

You died for the knowledge that might have saved everything and I didn’t believe you.

Fives had been – is – one of his men and that alone would be enough guilt to drown in but… that isn’t all.

Anakin firmly blocks the thoughts from his mind, refusing to wander down that old path of what-if. He had entertained enough of them, after Fives’… death. Even more after Echo had been found. So much more, in stolen moments with Padmé and occasionally Sabé or Rabé as well, staying up late nights with more alcohol than was probably advisable.

Force.

Three hallways down, Anakin finally stops, leans against the wall, and covers his face with his hands. He slowly sinks down, ending up sitting and pulling his knees close so he can hide in them instead of in his palms.

Smooth, Anakin. The internal reprimand takes on Obi-Wan’s voice, which is almost a step too far. Anakin’s eyes sting.

Eventually Anakin manages to gather himself enough that he can paste the mask back on. He can’t quite push the thoughts back into the box where he hadn’t even known that he’d stored them, however, and from that point on he can’t decide whether to run from Fives out of shame or never let him out of sight again. Over the coming days the result of the impulses leaves Anakin looking like a shy adolescent from a holo-drama, constantly keeping track of Fives, but ducking around corners, hiding behind bulkheads, and on one occasion, making a Force-assisted leap up a staircase (accidentally sparking a game of tag with Ahsoka, but he managed to make it look deliberate, so he counts it as a win) to avoid the clone.

Whatever explanation Ahsoka had given the two ARC troopers must have been unsatisfying however, because suddenly it seems like Fives is everywhere. Anakin tries to distract himself, mingling with the troops, burying himself in the Twilight, catching upon the present, but whenever he senses Fives just a little too close, he’s running again.

Anakin fears he will keep running for a long time.

#fanfiction #my writing #star wars #the clone wars #anakin skywalker #fives #ahsoka tano #rex #kix #bell #lyn #flipper #ani5 #anidala #several implied ships

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brittnicpan · 5 years

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Some thoughts I had on the Sequel Trilogy...

I was listening to a livestream @girllswithsabers did a few days ago, and they really had my gears turning. I've really been thinking about this recently, but until I listened to their livestream, I wasn't sure how to put it into words. And then it all finally kicked. Here's why Reylo is so much more important than just a "ship". It's the heart of this trilogy and the entire saga.

First, all abusive relationships exist on a foundation of a power imbalance. One person has all the power in an abusive relationship. That's not Rey and Kylo. It is impossible for them to be in an abusive relationship because they are EQUALLY powerful in the Force, and Kylo respects her for that. There is a mutual respect, despite opposing ideologies.

They BOTH have things they have to work on and maturing to do before they can come together. Yes, Kylo obviously has done horrible things and he has to come to terms with those things and atone for them, so it wouldn't be good if Rey stayed with him at the end of TLJ. But Rey's greatest strength is her compassion for people. The strongest thing you can do is choose to have compassion and forgive someone who has wronged you, especially if they are taking the steps to change. Any relationship they have will need to come after redemption, and it will.

Snoke and Kylo are the definition of an abusive relationship. Snoke was more powerful than Ben and took advantage of how vulnerable and hurt he was from his family. He made him think that he could rely on no one but him, until Rey came along. Kylo saw that there was someone exactly like him out there who wouldn't try to use him for his powers or his legacy because she is just as powerful as he is. Ben couldn't kill Snoke without Rey, and that's when he found the strength and opportunity to do so.

The biggest point of it all is this: this is Star Wars. It's a space fairy tale meant to be a monomyth not beholden to the laws and morals of our world. Yes, they are based off of real-life problems and scenarios, but it is meant to entertain, first and foremost. It is also meant to have us think about how we can treat people in real life and what happens when we come together as humanity.

Second, because Star Wars is a monomyth, it discussses the relationships between men and women, the masculine and the feminine, like other mythologies do. It does this starting with Anakin and Padmé and how their imbalanced relationship leads to an imbalance in the Force and an overwhelming amount of masculine and not enough feminine.

Episodes I-VI we see that imbalance, even after Vader dies. Nothing in the galaxy was solved. The Sequel Trilogy's sole purpose is to bring balance to the Force. How? By bringing together the Masculine and the Feminine, finally, as equals. It's told from a female gaze because it doesn't just embolden women, but it says that men and women can have both the Masculine and the Feminine and the world can be at peace if we just come together.

Women are also representative of life because we birth babies. It's the men of the Skywalker family that have caused the destruction of the galaxy, and they didn't have an equal woman to help bring balance back to the Force. What does Luke teach Rey in TLJ? That between life and death, cold and warmth, decay and growth there is a balance. Women represent life, men represent death. Both are necessary, both are equal, and both feed into each other. You can't have one without the other. Rey is Light, Kylo is Dark. Too much of either throws things out of balance. The Jedi Council of the prequels, the Empire of the originals.

All of this to say that, from this perspective, that's the story Episodes VII-IX are telling, and that's why it makes sense that Rey and Ben will be together at the end, that they have to be together at the end. Their relationship is deeper than just a romance, and it doesn't make sense for it to go any other way. In fact, if they didn't follow through with it, it would be a waste of a story and a cowardice move. But, as Kathleen Kennedy said, the Force is female! Thank goodness she was overseeing the making of this trilogy. She knows that you need both a man AND woman's perspective when telling stories. We had the male perspective with the other two trilogies. Now it's time for the female perspective.

Yes, a lot of mostly male and some female fans hate Reylo and hate these movies. But Star Wars is trying to shift the storytelling perspective and not only bring balance to the Force, but tell the audience that amazing things happen when women and men come together as equals, that there is peace when done so. And yeah, we are used to seeing romances from a male gaze perspective. We've been watching them for years, and it's hard to enact change. But of all the franchises that can do it and should do it, it's Star Wars because it's a modern mythology.

So yeah, some men and women are going to reject it initially, but the more we tell it the more it'll take root in people and change perspectives. I'm not bashing men at all, just trying to explain why Reylo is important. You certainly don't have to like it, but if you can try and understand why so many women and even men have clung to this trilogy, it's because it's speaking to us this time. And because of that, we can all learn important things from it.

Anyway, Rey and Ben are the Balance, and there is no doubt in my mind that they are going to be together at the end of TRoS. They have to be. From this particular storytelling perspective, it doesn't work any other way. And I suspect maybe that's why Kathleen Kennedy fired Colin Trevorrow in the first place. Maybe he just couldn't see and understand the female gaze story. So really, the fact that we have Kennedy really is the most reassuring reason that we're getting a Ben and Rey happy ending.

Anyway, enough rambling. Whatever your thoughts are on the Sequel Trilogy, whether you love it or hate it, I would encourage you to go in with an open mind in December and really pay attention to what the story is trying to say. Try and understand why so many women love this story, and some men, too!

A HUGE thank you to Girls with Sabers for inspiring this post with their livestream, and for encouraging me to post my thoughts! You should check out that livestream AND their YouTube channel. They have done amazing work, and really they are the ones that started making me think of Reylo from a literary and symbolic angle in the first place. Thanks ladies! 😊❤❤❤

Here's the link to that livestream:

youtube

#the rise of skywalker #reylo #reylo is endgame #reylo shippers #episode 9 #star wars tros #star wars #episode ix #ep ix #ep ix speculation

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isitmadness · 4 years

Text

A Handsome Stranger

story summary: Driving 1,300 miles in a truck with a complete stranger. This will be fine. This was what desperation will get you. Desperation and something akin to love-at-first-sight.

chapter summary: Ben and Cody feel lots of things for each other. The sunset and karaoke helps.

relationships: Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi

words: 5.9k

a/n: I liked the idea of these two idiots on a road trip in an AU/modern setting, so I wrote one. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Also, I decided to go back and post chapters 3 & 4, too, I don’t really know why...this is my favorite chapter though.

Read it on ao3

Part 1: A Handsome Stranger at the Airport

Part 2: The Handsome Strangers Talk

Part 3: The Handsome Strangers Take a Detour

Part 4: A Handsome Stranger Does Karaoke

After leaving Muir Woods, Cody and Ben decided to take the 101, drive until they were too tired, and see where they ended up. Ben didn’t realize how uninteresting parts of northern California could be, but at least the company and conversation were interesting and kept Ben’s attention easily. This time they ran the gamut of deeper subjects, but attempted to avoid the elephant in the room. Until they just couldn’t anymore.

“So…” Cody started carefully. “Quin, huh?”

Ben scrubbed a hand over his face. He anticipated that question and yet he still wasn’t ready. “That went nothing at all like I expected, quite honestly.”

“What did you expect after two years?” It was a little more direct than perhaps Cody intended, but well, the question was out there now. Ben sighed. “I didn’t, um...I--”

“No, no, it’s all right, Cody,” Ben interrupted. “Quin and I were friends for so long before, I just...figured...it’d be back to the way it was before. And that was perhaps very naive of me.” Ben was quiet for a moment before he spoke again. “I truly am sorry for dragging you along and just sort of leaving you there.”

Cody gave him a small smile, “Well I got to talk to Depa at least.” He didn’t tell Ben that he learned some new and interesting things about himself. That perhaps he wanted Ben to stick around a bit longer.

“I learned some new things about myself though.” Ben interrupted Cody’s train of thought and once again he found himself worried that Ben could actually read his mind. “And as I said before, I gained some closure. So, I think it was worth it in the end.”

What Ben couldn’t tell Cody was that he already felt something for Cody that he never did with Quinlan - a certain camaraderie and an odd sense that maybe in another life they worked side-by-side in mutual trust. Quinlan would be his friend again, and he still loved him as such, but he and Ben were just too different in important ways. And he very much wanted Cody to stay in his life even when they reached Seattle.

“How’s your booboo, by the way?” Cody decided instead to change the subject.

Ben chuckled and reached up, ghosting two fingers over the bandage, “Well, I think it’s healing despite not receiving a kiss to make it all better.” He squeezed his eyes shut, realizing immediately how awkward he made it. He really had a knack for that.

All Ben got in return was “hmmm.”

“Yeah, I should probably stop talking,” Ben finally said with a nervous laugh.

“You can’t though, I’m nowhere close to tired and we need to make up for some time lost. Remember when you said ‘Seattle isn’t exactly next door to San Diego’?” Ben groaned and threw his head back against the cab wall. That at least made Cody smile.

Ben narrowed his eyes, “How dare you throw my words back in my face. I don’t say things out loud for them to be used against me later when convenient.”

Cody laughed, “Well, I have some news for you, Ben...Seattle really isn’t next door to San Diego. You were right.”

----

Later, Ben found himself driving again as the 101 took them back oceanside around Eureka. He found it to be one of the more picturesque parts of their trip. With the sun slowly making its descent towards the horizon, it was all Ben could do to not pull over and just stop, sit on some beach, and watch.

“So, we’re not going to make it to Oregon tonight, are we?” Ben asked.

“No, I don’t think so. I think it's too far...someone had to waste so much time with an ex-boyfriend." Cody very pointedly did not look at Ben, but Ben could still appreciate the playfulness.

"I told you detouring in San Francisco was a mistake but you wouldn't listen!" Cody turned to look at Ben who merely winked.

Oh no. Ben was flirting again. Cody hated it because it made his inside twist in knots. But he also secretly loved it and hoped Ben would never stop. He finally narrowed his eyes and looked at his companion. “You want to stop again, don’t you?”

Ben acted incredulous for about two seconds under Cody’s withering stare. “I don’t… what-- what gives you that idea?”

Cody chuckled, “I just had a feeling.”

They went around a bend in the road and Ben was suddenly silhouetted against the sunset, the orange evening light making his hair redder than ever. Cody’s mouth was suddenly very dry.

Ben turned and smiled, “Well, I guess you should trust your gut since you were right.” He found Cody staring, but couldn’t quite comprehend the look on his face. “Is there something on my face?”

Cody shook his head a little too vehemently. “No, no, it’s nothing...I was just, uh, watching the sunset on the ocean.”

“Funny you should mention that…” Ben smiled again. “That’s the reason why I wanted to stop.” Cody hesitated. "Another chance to stretch our legs before the final push?"

Cody had to admit that Ben was good. He would have stopped anyway, but at least Ben gave him an actual compelling reason. “Oh, all right,” Cody relented. How could he say no?

----

They found a pull-off with quick access to the ocean at Clam Beach, and lucky for them, it was mostly abandoned. They took off their jackets, sweaters, shoes and socks, left them in the truck, then rolled up their pants legs and walked out on the beach. They walked around, stretched their legs, and searched for seashells. Ben finally walked out into the ocean, running back and forth whenever the tide came in, and Cody watched with affection. He had to keep telling himself that within a day or so, they would reach Bremerton, part, and he would probably never see Ben again.

So he decided to enjoy the moment while it lasted. He took his own touristy photos of the sunset and his companion.

Cody decided to finally sit and Ben joined him a few minutes later, looking flushed and truly the happiest Cody had seen him yet. He plopped down on the sand, smiling. “I know the day isn’t over yet, but this is probably one of the best days I’ve had in a really long time.”

Cody looked at him, “Me, too.”

“Even despite the San Francisco detour?” Ben nudged him with his elbow.

Cody finally smiled, “Yes, Ben, even with the detour.”

In the direct sunlight, Ben noticed that Cody’s lovely brown eyes almost seemed to glow amber. He pulled out his phone and opened the camera, “If you don’t mind, I’d like to commemorate it, but also this will give me proof to send to Anakin...you know, to let him know you haven’t killed me yet.” At this Cody laughed.

“Weren’t you supposed to be the killer in this scenario?”

“Yes, you’re right, but Anakin doesn’t know that.” Cody sucked in a quick breath as Ben leaned in closely. He was so close now he could feel the man’s body heat through his thermal shirt. Ben held his phone out in front of them, and they both managed to smile for a quick series of photos. “Also, apparently Padme wanted to know what you looked like, but I think it was really Anakin.” Ben grinned as he flicked through the photos quickly to make sure they came out okay.

Cody scoffed, “Right, right...blame it on the wife.” He had wondered briefly if Ben hadn’t just wanted the photo for himself, but then decided he was reading too much into it. And when he saw Ben typing out the message to Anakin, it was decided. He cleared his throat, "So, anyway, I'm not really sure what we're going to do about a hotel. I'm not familiar with the area we’re in or where we will be in an hour or two."

“Well, lucky for us my phone still has power, so let's see what I can find."

As they hunched over Ben’s phone, he found he couldn’t have asked for a more perfect ending to the day than sitting shoulder-to-shoulder in the sand with Cody, listening to the crashing of the waves as the sun dipped below the horizon.

They finally settled on another picturesque-looking town only an hour and a half away called Crescent City where they would stop for the night.

----

Cody and Ben stood in front of the truck and took in the property. It sat right on the ocean, and though the sun had vanished beyond the horizon, they could still see the view was incredible. The motel on the other hand....well, the view was still nice.

"At least the sign says 'vacancy,'" Cody pointed out.

"Except because I think Norman Bates runs this thing," Ben mused.

Cody huffed a laugh. "Here's your chance to improve your 'we're both murderers' story." Cody elbowed him in a playful gesture that caught Ben slightly off-guard. He liked it.

"Well there is that. You make a compelling argument."

Cody reached across Ben and pointed at the other building sitting on the property. "AND a bar within walking distance. What more could you want?"

Cody turned back towards Ben and caught him staring, a soft expression on his face that he didn't quite understand, or, rather, one he was afraid of accepting. He was once again close enough to feel the heat coming off of him. How had he gotten so close to Ben without realizing it?

"Nothing at all, it's perfect," Ben finally answered, never taking his eyes off Cody.

"Hmm, yes...well, you may want to retract that statement once we see inside both places," Cody nearly stuttered. His heart was hammering in his chest and he was sure Ben could hear it.

"So what if I get the rooms this time, and you get us a table?" Ben asked as he headed in the direction of the motel office. "Not that I expect there to be a wait...but there might not be much to do around here this time of the night, and well, this might be the life of the town."

Cody grinned, "I can do that."

----

Cody stepped into the bar and looked around. It was a DIVE. And there really was a wait because it was packed. For some reason, it seemed to be the happening place in this small seaside town. And Cody was also horrified to find it had karaoke. He hated karaoke.

He hovered near the entrance while a small dark-haired woman belted out two 80s rock songs, and he longed for ear plugs. Well, at least there would be alcohol.

And Ben.

The man appeared suddenly at his elbow as if summoned. "Hello there.” He glanced around the room. “There's actually a wait?"

"Yeah, can you believe this?"

"It seems to be quite popular! I mean, karaoke? How could anyone resist?" He laughed.

Cody groaned, “I could...quite easily. How about the rooms? Did you get those okay?"

Ben coughed into his hand, "Well, about that…"

Cody stared at him. "Please tell me they had rooms."

"Room,” Ben said, emphasizing the M at the end of the word. He held out a key to Cody who took it. An actual hotel room key. Neither of them had seen one in so long.

"Singular?" Ben nodded.

"It was literally the last room they had. I saw her switch on the 'no vacancy' before I left," Ben added.

What would one night hurt, right? They were adults. They could handle the same room for one night. But now that meant Cody would have to watch his alcohol intake. An ex once called him an 'amorous drunk' and he did not need that happening.

"Well, as long as it's safe and clean, right?" Cody added after some time. Ben nodded. "And how much was it?"

Ben chuckled, "I think you're going to love this…$60 for the night."

Cody looked surprised, he expected at least $80 for the view. "What? How…?"

"Well...she saw the truck outside with your naval stickers on the back. I told her we had just come from San Francisco and you were moving to Kitsap. The next thing I knew, we were newly-married, but we can't take a honeymoon yet because you're in the navy, so this little road trip is all we have." Cody was flustered but honestly impressed at how well Ben spun the story. And it…wasn't even completely false. "So she, uh, gave us a discount."

"I can't believe you used me for a cheap room," Cody said with almost a hint of a smile.

"It's just one night, darling," Ben continued, seemingly unaware he had just dropped the term of endearment. The way it just rolled off his tongue delighted Cody; however, he was already sweating and he hadn’t even begun to drink. "She just wanted to help out a newlywed couple, and well, I didn’t correct her." Now Cody couldn't decide if he wanted to smack the smug grin off Ben's face or kiss it.

"Just two?" The hostess interrupted.

"Yes," they answered in unison. She sat Ben and Cody in a booth in the middle of the side of the bar. Closer to the karaoke than Cody would have liked, but not right next to it, thankfully.

Ben hooked a thumb over his shoulder towards the small stage. "So, do you…?"

"Sing?" Cody finished the sentence for him. "Certainly not in front of a bunch of drunk people."

Ben laughed, "But that's the best place! No one cares how bad you are!"

"Ben, are you going to embarrass me tonight?"

He grinned again, "Do you know any of these people?" Cody shook his head slowly, not quite sure what that had to do with anything. "Ok, so who cares? You're never going to see them again in your life. And also, remember, they're drunk? They probably think they're at a real concert." Ben took off his cardigan, and Cody found himself distracted once again by his collarbone and freckled forearms. He looked down at the menu and tried to become very interested in it instead.

"What can I get you boys?" Their waitress appeared at the end of the table.

"Hello there!" Ben greeted her with enthusiasm. "I'll have whatever ale is darkest and two fingers of whisky."

She looked over at Cody, "I'll just start with a hard cider for now."

"You got it," she said and left.

"I wouldn't have picked hard cider for you," Ben said, leaning forward.

"Yeah, well, I'm trying to go easy I guess.

"Fair enough," Ben replied as he looked around the bar. It was loud and vibrant. He hadn't been out drinking in so long, and certainly not with such a handsome partner. He watched the karaoke stage as the next person came up to pick their song.

"I see you eyeing that stage…" Cody's voice pulled Ben's gaze away from the other side of the bar.

He smiled, "It could be fun! It's only a thought. I'd have to have a little more than one pint and one whisky though."

"Oh yeah, that's just what you need," Cody sighed.

"I can hold my liquor! I think you'd be surprised," Ben said in mock offense.

Cody shook his head, "Please don't think that was a challenge. I can't have you throwing up all night and into the next day. We need to make it to Kitsap tomorrow."

"It'll happen, Cody, don't you worry." Before he realized what he was doing, Ben reached over and squeezed Cody's hand.

The waitress used that most inopportune moment to return with their drinks and gave them a sly smile when they both pulled away quickly. "Ale and whisky for you… and cider for you. You want anything to eat?"

"Wings and fries for me," Cody answered.

"And how about a burger for me, medium," Ben followed up.

She winked at them both, "You bet."

----

Their very late dinner was passing pleasantly enough despite some of the singing. Which was...well, terrible, at times, and made it impossible to hear at others. Because Ben got tired of asking Cody to repeat himself, he got up and came to sit on Cody’s side. They sat shoulder-to-shoulder, nursing their drinks, talking and watching singer after singer try their hand at karaoke.

It may have been the effect of the alcohol, or all the bodies in the bar, but the place had gotten warmer and Cody eventually took off his jacket and outermost flannel layer, too. Ben knew he was staring, and he tried not to, but every time Cody reached for his glass, he couldn't help but notice the flex of muscle in his forearm. And he appreciated the view.

"I think I need to visit the loo really quickly," Ben said, getting up suddenly.

Cody was surprised that Ben jumped up so quickly, but he nodded all the same. "Well, I'll be here."

Ben reached down and gently touched Cody's nose, "Of course you will."

Cody absolutely didn't know what to do with that. He exhaled a breath he didn't even realize he was holding and slumped into the booth. He couldn't get drunk. He was having a hard time being near Ben, and the idiot had to come sit right next to him, too. He slid over on the bench. Maybe if there was no room when he came back, he'd take the hint and sit on his own side.

The thing was...he wanted Ben to sit beside him. He wanted to wrap an arm around his waist and pull him close. Nuzzle his hair and place a kiss to his temple, then cheek, then mouth. He wanted. And that terrified him.

Tomorrow they would be in Kitsap. They would maybe even exchange numbers but they would go their separate ways. Cody would get his promotion, adjust to life on a new base in a new town, and Ben would be reunited with his family and become an uncle. Maybe they would see each other every now and then, but Ben would live across the water in Seattle. They would be friends, linked by several crazy days on the road up the west coast.

Cody was picking at the fries on his plate when the opening refrain of 'Beyond the Sea' started playing. It was an interesting choice considering all the 80s and 90s music they had suffered through all night long. No one had dared touch the older classics. But he froze as soon as the person started singing, his heart pounding in his ears.

Ben was going to embarrass him.

Somewhere, beyond the sea Somewhere, waiting for me My lover stands on golden sands And watches the ships that go sailing

Cody watched in equal parts horror, amusement, and extreme fondness as Ben took the microphone off the stand and made his way around the floor. He knew every single word, and boy, could he sing. Cody was floored.

Ben made his way towards their table with a wide smile on his face.

Somewhere, beyond the sea He's there watching for me If I could fly like birds on high Then straight to his arms I'd go sailing

He winked at Cody and turned around, winding his way through the tables being quite the performer. He was charming the socks off everyone in the bar. Who was this man?

We'll meet beyond the shore We'll kiss just as before Happy we'll be beyond the sea And never again I'll go sailing

The waitress came by again smiling at Cody, "Another cider for you? Or you need something stronger?"

"Whisky, double...bring another for him, too. I'm sure he's going to want it when he's done." She smiled and nodded.

Ben finally finished his song to raucous applause. No one had gotten the reception he had all night. Cody was still slightly embarrassed, but he was also secretly proud that he'd return to his table. Which he did not two minutes later, just in time for the waitress to greet him with another round plus more, "Whisky is from your boyfriend here, but all the other is from the bartender who says thanks for the amusement and well done."

Ben laughed, breathless. "Ah! Thank you most kindly." He picked up the whisky from the table and lifted it to her.

"Really though, we don't generally get that kind of entertainment in here. It was delightful," she smiled and left Ben and Cody alone once more. In his extreme confusion and adoration, Cody had forgotten to slide over, so Ben plopped down beside him once more, bumping arms and shoulders.

"Well?" Ben was still breathing a bit heavier than usual, and he was flushed, which was quite cute. "Did I embarrass you?"

Cody swallowed thickly and picked up his own glass to down the contents. He needed to drink, but he also needed to clear his head, and the drink wasn't going to do that at all. He finally chuckled, "Yes, you really did."

Ben laughed. "Good."

The stupid idiot didn't even know how much he was making Cody fall for him. And Cody was a stupid idiot for falling. "But really though," Cody cleared his throat. "That was impressive, I had no idea you could sing."

"I have to keep some of the mystery, don't I?" Ben leaned into Cody and lowered his voice. "If you knew everything right out of the gate, you wouldn't want to spend any more time with me." Oh the bastard did know what he was doing. This was so much worse.

Cody arched an eyebrow, "Who says I want to spend any time with you? I needed help paying for the truck, remember?" He took a sip of his beer to hide his grin.

Ben huffed in annoyance. "Right, of course, silly me."

They nursed their drinks, ordered dessert and watched the next parade of singers. They decided to make it into a game: guess the genre before the song began then rate the performance. Cody was a lot harsher than Ben, but he seemed to be enjoying himself, and that made Ben glad.

"You know," Ben started. "On the beach earlier, I thought the day was already the best one I had had in awhile, but this, right now, is truly icing on the cake."

Cody looked at him and felt a very peculiar fondness. "I have to say, I agree."

At that, suddenly Ben leaned closer, emboldened by the alcohol and the warm, hazy atmosphere in the bar. He couldn't be positive, but he thought Cody was leaning in, too. He got close enough to feel the heat radiating off the man...just one inch closer--

"Wait." Ben froze and blinked. "You're drunk." It was a simple statement of fact. Cody pulled away.

Ben chuckled nervously, "Aye, maybe a little. I'd say...more...buzzed really."

"It doesn't matter," Cody shook his head and Ben stared, dumbstruck. "If we're not careful, we may--”

Ben swallowed and closed his eyes, “Please don’t say it…”

“...do something we'll regret." Cody shifted in the booth like he wanted to get up. Ben moved and stood up at the end of the table. Cody stood, too and dug his wallet out of his pocket and put several bills on the table. Ben watched as Cody put on his jacket and walked through the bar and out the front door.

Ben remained, dumbfounded. What the hell was that? He had thought Cody was interested in him. But perhaps he was mistaken. Well, obviously he was. He had misread signs before, so this certainly wouldn't have been the first time. He mentally kicked himself for letting it happen again. He slipped his cardigan back on and left his own money on the table, silently cursing under his breath. This was going to make the rest of the night extremely fun and not awkward at all.

When Ben stepped outside, there was no sign of Cody. He growled, "Couldn't even wait for me to walk back to the motel, eh?" He said to absolutely no one. A man who had just closed his car door in the parking lot gave him a strange look, and Ben fought the urge to stick his tongue out at him.

"There is peace, there is peace, there is peace," he repeated like a mantra with every step he took back towards the motel. The crunch of the gravel beneath his boots was a centering comfort.

Once he reached their door, he pulled the key out of his pocket—who still used actual keys?—and fumbled trying to get it into the lock. His hands were shaking, okay, maybe he was more than slightly buzzed, and he found himself getting increasingly frustrated that the key wouldn't turn. He was drunk, yes, but not that drunk. How could Cody have locked him out? Did he have the locks changed? Ben exhaled and laughed, "Ben, you idiot, how would he get the door locks changed?"

As Ben mumbled to himself and tried to enter the neighbor's room, Cody stood in the entrance of their own room, leaning against the door frame. He knew it was impolite to laugh, but he was a little amused, and he didn't really plan to make him suffer long. He straightened up and cleared his throat.

"You going to stand there all night and try to get in the neighbor's room, or what?"

Ben jolted and dropped his key at the sound of Cody’s voice. He looked between Cody and the door he'd been previously trying to enter. It was fairly dark outside, so Cody couldn't be sure, but Ben seemed to be blushing.

"Ah." He bent down and picked up the key and shuffled to their room, keeping his head down the whole way. He might have been annoyed that Cody left him in the bar, but he HAD tried to kiss him. He couldn't make eye contact. He stopped just shy of the door and rubbed a hand across the back of his neck.

Cody waved his hand into the room, a gesture that told Ben to enter. He stopped abruptly when he saw the inside. There was just one bed.

He looked to Cody. "I swear I didn't know, I assumed there would be double beds."

"You didn't think to ask?" Cody sounded mildly annoyed.

"Well, no…" Ben said sheepishly. "Although, I guess I should have known when she thought we were married, but then again, it was the last room. I can, uh...go back out there and stay after we get our bags. I can sleep in the truck." Ben turned to walk back out of the room but Cody grabbed his upper arm. Ben felt his skin burning.

Cody sighed, "You'll do no such thing. It’s late, and we have another long day tomorrow, so we probably should just get ready for bed. We’re adults - this will be fine."

Ben nodded, "Let me go get our things then."

Cody sighed and sat on the end of the bed to wait. He was extra grateful he had decided to not drink so much, but one bed was still going to be a challenge when all he wanted to do was kiss and touch Ben. And Ben very clearly wished to do the same. He felt a heat rising in his chest at the thought. It had been years since he had been with anyone.

Ben returned several minutes later with their bags, looking tired and less jovial than he had inside the bar. Cody was fairly certain he had quashed all of Ben's romantic notions. He stood and went to the door to close and lock up. "You take the bathroom first. I can wait."

"No, no, I insist you take it first," Ben sat on the end of the bed and kicked off his shoes. Despite taking them off in the truck earlier at the beach, he still dumped sand all over the carpet. He chuckled to himself thinking of how much Anakin would have hated it.

"Well, okay, fine," Cody rifled through his overnight bag, found what he needed and disappeared behind the bathroom door.

Ben fell backwards onto the bed. You have two more days at the most… just, don't make it awkward again. He doesn't care about you in that way. He's a kind stranger who gave you a ride, that's it. When you reach the peninsula, you'll part ways, shake hands, and that'll be that. Between the alcohol, the talking to himself, and the sound of the shower running, Ben lulled himself into a light slumber, fully dressed and waiting on his turn in the bathroom.

Cody got out of the shower and toweled off. He started to get dressed and realized he had left his briefs in his bag. He could either forgo the briefs or he could be an adult and walk out there and get them. He was an adult. Ben was an adult.

But Ben had tried to kiss him. He almost let him, too. Gods, he should have.

Cody wrapped a towel around his waist and opened the bathroom door slowly. It was eerily quiet in the room, too quiet. Did Ben go sleep in the truck after all? He stepped out of the bathroom to find Ben sleeping, snoring lightly. He breathed a sigh of relief that he wouldn't have to parade half-naked in front of the man he couldn't stop thinking about. He carefully made his way back to his overnight bag and dug through it until he found what he needed.

"Oh." Came a breathy noise from behind him. He winced, of-kriffing-course.

You're an adult, you're both adults, this is fine, Cody told himself as he turned around. Ben looked like a deer caught in headlights. But Cody almost lost it when Ben reached up and covered his eyes with his hands like a child.

"Forgot something," Cody said as he practically sprinted back to the bathroom, thankful that his towel had the decency to stay in place.

----

Ben took the coldest shower he could stand, trying his best to sober up, trying his best to not think of the expanse of brown skin across a muscular back. He finished dressing and exited the bathroom to find Cody already tucked in bed. He was under the covers but sitting up reading, only looking away from his book momentarily to look at Ben. "I didn't really ask what side of the bed you wanted…"

Ben shook his head as he put away his things, "It doesn't matter at all. I'll sleep wherever you want-- wherever you DON'T WANT…shit." Ben was awfully cute when he got flustered. Cody struggled to keep his face neutral. Ben walked over to his side of the bed and pulled back the covers. He hesitated when he made eye contact with Cody. "I truly don't mind sleeping in the truck. Ocean view!" He laughed nervously.

"Ben, if you mention the truck one more time…" Cody closed his eyes and sighed. He opened them again when he felt the bed dip next to him.

Ben pulled the covers up to his chin and looked over at Cody. Cody almost laughed at the adorable picture Ben made, with his head barely peeking outside the top of the covers.

"I, uh…" Ben hesitated. "It's been a while since I've slept with someone, I mean, in the same bed, you know sleeping, just sleeping...ugh...what I'm trying to say is, I hope I don't kick you in the night or anything. And, feel free to push or nudge me if I do."

Cody raised one eyebrow. Well, at least he looked amused this time, Ben thought. "Noted," Cody finally said. "Do you mind if I read a little longer?"

"Not at all." Ben turned over to face the wall. He could feel Cody’s eyes on his back...or perhaps that was his imagination. He needed to apologize. He couldn’t sleep on the guilt eating him up inside. He turned back over to face Cody who was still reading his book. “Don’t you think this room is rather ugly?”

Cody started, unsure exactly what he had just heard, “Beg pardon?”

Ben hiccuped once unexpectedly which made Cody smile. “The room, it’s ugly. I’m pretty sure this is all original wood paneling on the walls, and perhaps all original decor? Perhaps from when the hotel itself was built...I’d say late 50s?” He looked up at Cody and grinned, and it took every ounce of restraint Cody had to not lean over and kiss him right then. It was just the alcohol, he lied to himself.

Cody stuck a finger in his book to mark his place and closed it. “So you think we should have gotten more of a discount?”

“I’m saying,” Ben started, propping himself up on his elbow. Cody’s attention was caught by the movement of the v-neck on Ben’s shirt, which shifted exposing ginger hair and a freckled chest and clavicle. He quickly looked down at his book and fidgeted. “I’m saying...that yeah, $60 shouldn’t have been the discount price. That should have been like, the starting point - maybe!” Ben jabbed one finger in the air.

Cody laughed at what sort of strange drunk Ben made. He did seem to be holding his liquor well, with a few exceptions, but he was clearly drunk. Which was all the more reason to shut down any advances. He indulged Ben and looked around the room anyway, “You know, I think you might be right. It is rather hideous. At least it’s only one night.”

Ben hummed. He laid back down, staring at the hideous popcorn ceiling. “I just...I wanted to say I’m sorry, Cody.” He swallowed, pointedly not looking in Cody’s direction, which didn’t go unnoticed. He also seemed to be in a little distress, and Cody desperately wanted to reach out and offer him comfort. But he was afraid of where it’d lead. “I’m quite good at making things awkward it seems.”

Cody thought for a moment before saying anything. “It’s fine, Ben.” He finally turned his head so he could make eye contact with him. He put a gentle hand on his shoulder and patted it lightly. “We both had a little too much to drink, and things...happen. We move on.”

Ben slowly nodded. “Move on, yes.” That was good enough of a final confirmation for Ben. “Well then, I’m sure you want to get back to your book, so, goodnight, Cody. Pleasant dreams.”

“Same to you, Ben.”

Before he turned away, Ben took a quick glance at the cover of Cody’s book—it was the one he had recommended to him. He must have bought it at Quinlan’s shop, too. Ben flushed, turned to face the wall again, and willed his heart from hammering out of his chest.

Cody continued to try to read, but really ended up scanning the same paragraph 10 times. He glanced over at Ben, wanting to reach out and run his hands through his still-wet auburn hair. Oh please don't let me make too big of a fool of myself tonight, he thought before giving up and turning off the light.

One more note:

'A Life Less Ordinary' may or may not have been the inspiration for the karaoke scene. lol

#codywan #road trip #au #my writing #silly silly silly #fanfic #a handsome stranger

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wakingbetweenworlds · 4 years

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Reylo/Star Wars Tag

So, since I’m diving head first into the community after 5 years, I’ve been searching for ways to meet more of you. Anyway, I found this adorable Tag from @supremeprince-bensolo and thought I’d join in!

Rules: Answer the 25 questions and tag some people you think might like to play.

Tagging: I don’t really know anyone to tag, but I’m looking forward to getting to know some of you!

1. When did you start shipping Reylo?

I started shipping Reylo as more of an “oh this could be an interesting dynamic” type thing after watching The Force Awakens in 2015. The chemistry between Adam and Daisy, even as strangers/enemies, was compelling. It wasn’t until I watched The Last Jedi that I thought “yeah, this is totally a thing and I’m not the only crazy person that loves it”. The similarities between the two characters was fascinating.

2. Favorite Reylo moment?

Out of all 3 movies, my favorite Reylo moment is the first ‘force-bond’ scene while Rey is on Ahch-To. She’s still filled with so much anger and hatred for him, but Kylo is more interested in figuring out what is going on between them. To me, it illustrates the deeper motivations of the characters and their evolving relationship.

3. Three words to describe Reylo?

Conflict | Passion | Redemption

4. Favorite thing about Reylo?

My favorite thing about Reylo is, despite the difference in their upbringing, they have suffered in the same way. Both have been alienated from their families and forced into a role that they didn’t necessarily choose. Both are incredibly lonely and feel as though they are misunderstood by everyone close to them.

5. Favorite character?

Darth Vader. As an OT kid, I really don’t think another answer to this question exists. Vader has to be one of the most epic villains ever created. #LongLiveDarthDaddy

6. Favorite droid?

K2-SO. This may be a stretch, but come on! I just love the attitude!! Rogue One is a fantastic addition to Star Wars and Alan Tudyk is absolutely AMAZING!

7. Favorite planet?

This is tough. I’ll cheat and say it's a tie between Mustafar and Kashyyyk. Mustafar because of Vader. It would be a cool place to visit and explore. Kashyyyk because of the Wookiees. I mean, who wouldn’t want to live with Wookiees on a beautiful jungle planet?

8. Favorite spaceship?

Again, another tie. Of course, the Millenium Falcon is the most iconic ship in all of Star Wars. I seriously cried when I got to see it on my first trip to Galaxy’s Edge! Other than the Falcon, the one ship I would love to fly is the TIE Interceptor. That thing is just badass!

9. Favorite alien species?

JAWAS!!! Oh. My. God. I’ve been obsessed with Jawas since I was a kid! I used to parade around the house in a brown blanket shouting “UTINNI!” at literally everything! I just love those sneaky little ass holes!

10. Favorite actor/actress?

Harrison Ford and Carrie Fisher. I know. I know. It’s the OT kid, again. Besides Star Wars, the only other movies I would watch as a kid were the Indiana Jones movies. I was 6 before I realized that not all movies had Harrison Ford in them. And Carrie? Forget it. She was the first female role model I had in movies. If Princess Leia could do it, so could I.

11. How did you get into Star Wars?

I can honestly say I can’t remember the first time I watched a Star Wars movie. I can remember watching Empire almost weekly as a kid. My dad had the OT on VHS and I would watch them whenever I had a chance.

12. Most memorable Star Wars moment?

Ugh. This one is hard! There are so many moments from each film and trilogy that stand out. I think I’m going to have to go with a Vader moment though. The scene in Rogue One where Vader hacks through everyone on the Rebellion ship. Shit. That has got to be one of the coolest, most well choreographed scenes. He’s the baddie to end all baddies!

13. Anakin Skywalker or Darth Vader?

Don’t get me wrong, I love Anakin. I love that the Prequels explain his backstory so well. I love that we get to see the conflict build in him and that his choices felt right at the time. And, I love how Haden portrays the character. BUT, Darth Vader is iconic. He’s truly the villain, no matter what his backstory says.

14. Ben Solo or Kylo Ren?

Ben Solo! So, here’s the thing. I don’t really see Kylo Ren as a separate entity. Kylo feels like a costume that Ben wears to protect himself. He becomes what he has to. Not to spoil anything from The Rise of Kylo Ren, but Ben is a victim of abuse. There’s no doubt about it. It’s canon. I don’t think he ever truly falls the way Anakin does. It feels like he finds a role he thinks he can play, so he puts on a costume and acts how he thinks he should.

15. OT, PT or ST?

OT!!! While I love all three trilogies, the Original will always have a special place in my heart. If it weren’t for those, I don’t know if I would love Star Wars as much as I do.

16. TLJ or ESB?

EMPIRE STRIKES BACK!! Are you kidding? There’s no contest. Yes, TLJ is amazing, but Empire is quintessential Star Wars. It has action, adventure, fantasy, violence, and romance that all of the other films try to emulate.

17. ROTS or ANH?

BIG OOF! I’m probably in the minority here, but Revenge of the Sith. I love the fall of Anakin Skywalker.

18. ROTJ or TFA?

Return of the Jedi. TFA is great and I love the new characters that it introduces, but ROTJ is amazing. Vader’s death is so poetic.

19. TPM or TROS?

I never thought I would find a Star Wars movie that I hate more than The Phantom Menace, but TROS did the damn thing. Like shit! What a HORRIBLE way to end a franchise that I’ve loved my entire life. Seriously, TROS is the Jar Jar Binks of the Star Wars universe.

20. Rogue One or Solo?

Don’t get me wrong! I LOVED Solo. Seriously, Donald Glover as young Lando is absolutely fantastic casting and seeing Han and Chewie’s backstory is perfect. BUT!! Rogue One’s storyline is much more compelling. It also has my favorite Vader scene….. sooooooo.

21. Favorite quote?

There are soooooo many fantastic quotes in Star Wars, but I’m going to have to go with one that always made me giggle. Master Yoda is the original savage.

“When 900 years old you reach, look as good you will not.”

22. Favourite meme?

I am literally obsessed with this little shit. I mean… Come on!!

23. Favourite gif?

Does this count?

24. If you could change one thing about the Skywalker Saga what would it be?

For the Rise of Skywalker to actually have a Skywalker rise? Is that really too much to ask? For there to be at least one Skywalker left at the end of the Skywalker Saga. No, still too much? Maybe, not have the nemesis of the Skywalker line survive though his granddaughter? Maybe have a female character that is strong enough on her own? One who doesn’t need some powerful dude ancestor to justify her strength. Ok. I’ll stop now.

25. Top 3 Star Wars movies?

EMPIRE STRIKES BACK

Rogue One

The Last Jedi

#reylo #reylo fandom #tag game #tagged #star wars tag game

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astudyinimagination · 5 years

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The Gentleness That Comes not from the Absence of Violence, pt. II

Hi, guys!

NaNo is moving too fast for me to keep up with it and I could use some Validation (TM), so here’s the next part of my Padmé Lives AU. :D

Padmé returns to the land of the living from a brush with death, and starts to navigate her new life as a first-time single mother in hiding with twins, not to mention relationship issues and developing PTSD.

She rises slowly to consciousness, and there’s a light behind her eyelids strong enough to make her feel uncomfortable without also making her feel she has to wake up sooner than she wants to. She drifts for a while, returning to the waking world gradually, and there’s a strange weight on her face when she does. She panics for a moment, but Obi-Wan is right there, assuring her that everything is all right, she is fine… and his blue eyes are bright with tears. He’s been crying. Poor Obi-Wan. Maybe he should have told Anakin he could cry. Maybe that would have helped.

“Padmé? Thank the Force you’re still with us.” He gives her a weak grin. “It would have been a tragedy if I’d had to raise these twins by myself.”

Padmé rasps a faint chuckle, and realizes that she’s wearing an oxygen mask. Oh. So that’s how close she’d been to dying.

Then she realizes what’s missing. “Where are the twins?” Her voice continues to rasp, painfully.

“The meddroids have them — cleaning up and feeding and testing and putting to sleep. I’m told it’s standard procedure, even if the birth is a perfectly normal one.”

And this one was not. “Oh.”

Obi-Wan takes her right hand in both his hands and opens his mouth to speak, but Padmé frowns at what she feels. “How did you hurt your hand?” Then she remembers: he had held her hand throughout the contractions, and she blushes. “I’m sorry.”

Obi-Wan blushes, too. “It’s nothing, Padmé, really. It will heal quickly.”

She gives a minute nod. The silence begins to drag out uncomfortably, so she asks, “How long was I out?”

His lips compress into a thin line before he answers. “Nearly three hours. You flatlined. Bail claimed he was next of kin and told them to get you breathing again.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “Bail did that? And they went with it?”

Obi-Wan shrugs. “We’re far enough out here that they barely know the Clone Wars is — ” he stops, pain and grief flashing across his face for a moment, then continues — “was happening, let alone that you two are esteemed Senators from different planets.”

“Where is here?”

“Polis Massa. Archeological base on an asteroid field, Subterrel sector.”

“That’s… pretty far.”

“Yes.”

They lapse into silence again. There’s too much between them now to converse easily; their friendship will never be the same again, if they even stay friends.

But there’s one thing Padmé still doesn’t know, and she needs to. “What happened, Obi-Wan? To Anakin? Where is he?”

The grief returns to the Jedi’s face in full force, and Padmé feels a pang of sympathy for him. Perhaps Obi-Wan didn’t do the best job of it, but he did raise Anakin, and he loves him, she knows that.

Apparently, she knew that when Anakin didn’t.

“He…. he’s dead, Padmé. I’m sorry.”

“No…” Anakin couldn’t be dead, he couldn’t, Padmé isn’t Force-sensitive but she would have felt that, she knows she would have, she would know…

“I saw him.”

“How…?” Her voice cracks.

He shakes his head, and she recognizes the look in his eyes — it’s a look she’s seen more times than she can count: what those eyes have seen is too horrible to give voice to.

She doesn’t know what to say, or how to feel. Anakin is dead. But he couldn’t be. I’d know.

Just like you knew about what he’d become?

She can’t hold back a whimper, and Obi-Wan’s face twists again. “I still love him,” she whispers.

“I know,” he whispers back. Does Obi-Wan still love Anakin? Does Anakin’s betrayal of him run deeper than his betrayal of Padmé? Can you quantify something like that?

Into the silence, Padmé speaks again. “Obi-Wan… would you take this mask off, please? I can breathe on my own.”

“Oh.” He suddenly looks awkward. “I should probably go ask…”

“Please?” She gives him her best pitiful eyes, which she has to imagine are only enhanced right now by her appearance — she’s sure she looks like a fright.

He sighs and moves forward to carefully disengage the apparatus, and Padmé sighs in relief at fresh air filling her lungs. Well, as fresh as air can be in a medcenter that’s on an atmosphereless asteroid.

“Thank you.”

Obi-Wan smiles weakly. “Let’s just hope the meddroids are — ”

Bail bursts into the room. “Obi-Wan, I need to — Padmé!” He rushes to her side, and she struggles to sit up. “You’re awake!”

“I’m fine,” Padmé rasps, unconvincing to her own ears. “I think I owe you my life.”

Bail blushes and looks down. “Yes, about that… I’m sorry, Padmé, but I couldn’t just — ”

It’s Obi-Wan’s turn to interrupt. “Senator, you needed to speak with me? Beg pardon, but you looked rather urgent just now.”

“Yes…” Bail looks awkwardly between Obi-Wan and Padmé. “It’s… it’s Master Yoda.��

Padmé manages to support her weight on her elbows. “Master Yoda is still alive?”

Bail nods. “He… I’m sorry, Padmé… He wants to have the twins separated. For their own safety.”

Padmé’s vision darkens for a moment, and then she slips into an icy calm, the internal body armor she needed as Queen and continues to use as a Senator. “I see.” Both men just visibly flinch. Good. “Bail? Would you be so good as to take me to him? I’m afraid you’ll have to help me walk.”

Bail hesitates, then bends down. “I can carry you, it will save time.”

Obi-Wan steps forward. “I can — ”

“Obi-Wan, if you’ll forgive my saying so, you hardly look like you can carry yourself,” Bail says dryly but not unkindly.

Deciding to forgo whatever dignity she’d find in hobbling along while leaning on Bail’s arm, Padmé reaches up for him, and he lifts her easily into his arms.

Obi-Wan clears his throat, and Padmé turns towards him. “May I… may I come with you?”

It’s going to get ugly, Padmé know it’s going to get ugly, but she can see that he already knows that, and he wants to come anyway. She nods. “Of course.”

He bows his head in return, and Bail sets off. They’re met with a few stares from passers-by in the corridor, and one of the meddroids who has been taking care of Padmé notices her out of bed and begins to make a fuss. Almost immediately, she hears Obi-Wan using the tone he employs for soothing tempers — they don’t call him The Negotiator for nothing — and she tunes out. The droid is a distraction, and she needs to focus.

But her heart rises into her throat when Bail carries her into the nursery center, and there are two human babies side by side in their own medical cradles, snuggled into blankets and fast asleep, her babies…

And there is Yoda standing in front of the cradles, watching them.

The diminutive Jedi Master turns towards them as they enter, blinking placidly. Padmé has to fight for calm as she murmurs to her friend, “Thank you, Bail. Would you please set me down?”

He grimaces in concern but complies, keeping an arm around Padmé’s shoulders to help her stay upright, and she gives him a glance of gratitude.

“Senator,” Yoda says in greeting. “Glad I am to see you still alive. Concerned, we all were, to lose you.”

“Thank you, Master Yoda,” Padmé says evenly with a tilt of her head. “But I wonder why you need me at all if you wish to split up my children.”

Bail’s arm tenses beneath her, and she can feel rather than see Obi-Wan’s shock.

Yoda is hardly fazed. “For their own safety, it would be. On them, everything depends.”

Padmé frowns. “I don’t understand.”

“Shielded from the Emperor, they must be, until old enough, they are, to stand against him.”

“I agree completely, but they will not be standing against him on your terms, Master Jedi. They are my children, not yours.”

“My judgment, you must trust, Senator.” Padmé could almost laugh aloud — so this is where Qui-Gon had gotten it from! “Strong are your children with the Force. To the Jedi, would they be entrusted.”

It’s true — under Republic law, the Jedi had the right to take Force-sensitive children into the Order, and Padmé feels a sudden rush of shame for never thinking to question that law until she had discovered her pregnancy. She’d known there was an even chance that her child would be Force-sensitive thanks to Anakin, and she had, in her off hours, been preparing to fight for custody of the baby once they were born. Selfish, and blind, of her, not to give that law so much as a second thought until she was in the position of the people being harmed by it.

“Under Republic law, you’re right,” says Padmé, an edge to her voice. “But the Republic no longer exists, thanks to Palpatine. Who, by the way, now has unrestricted access to the system you put in place to find Force-sensitive children.” She hears Obi-Wan’s sharp intake of breath, and Yoda’s eyes widen — neither of them had thought of this yet. Her voice cracks as she continues. “How many children are now in mortal danger because of it?”

“And there’s no way to stop it,” Obi-Wan murmurs in horror. “Every medcenter in the Republic — the Empire — has the technology to test for midi-chlorians, and all healers and meddroids know they have to run those tests.”

Padmé looks over her shoulder at him. “I’m sorry,” she says softly, sincerely. Then she turns back to Yoda, slipping back into her political persona. “There are thousands of children out there at risk as of the moment Palpatine declared all Jedi enemies of the state. I recommend that you focus your efforts on helping them, and leave the responsibility of protecting my children, who are at far less risk, to me.”

The Jedi’s large ears droop. “Lost, those younglings may already be.”

Padmé shakes her head. “They remain your responsibility.”

“As do your younglings.”

Padmé bursts out laughing. She can see the men around her looking at her in concern — her laugh sounds high and bitter and tinged with hysteria to her own ears — but she can’t help it. Still laughing, she looks Yoda in the eye. “Forgive me, Master Jedi, but it’s really rather amusing. It’s astonishing, frankly, the depth of your presumption regarding the welfare of my children or anyone’s children, really.” The laughter fades, and her voice hardens. “You have no right to Luke and Leia or to any other child in this galaxy, anymore. The best you can do, at this point, is save as many children as you can from a man who already knows they exist. I will keep my babies, and raise them, and you will have absolutely no say in how I do that.”

Yoda’s shoulders hunch, and Padmé almost pities him, burdened as he is by responsibility and… guilt. Guilt is the emotion she’d picked up from him at the start of this conversation that she couldn’t identify until now.

Anakin made his own choices, but she doesn’t doubt for one moment that Yoda and the Jedi Order helped him towards those choices. And she will not allow that same person to have a hand in the raising of her children.

“Skywalker’s stubbornness, you share. Need my help, you may, before long — my comm channel, I shall leave you. Right are you about one thing: protect the younglings I should, if possible it is.”

Senator and Jedi Master exchange bows, and Obi-Wan steps forward. “Shall we brainstorm, then, Master?”

Yoda snorts and jabs his cane at his colleague. “Brainstorm, I shall. Sleep, should you, for no sleep have had you in too long.”

Obi-Wan hesitates, glancing at Padmé, then gestures for Yoda to follow him out into the hall. The door shuts behind them, and Padmé breathes a sigh of relief.

Bail also sighs, shaking his head. “Padmé…”

She arches an eyebrow. “Did I say anything wrong, Bail?”

“No…” He sighs again. “No. But you’re going to have to spend a lot of time in bed to recover from all the energy you expended just now.”

“It was worth it.” She can, however, feel her legs weakening further, her heart beating rapidly, her body chilled now that it is no longer warmed by adrenaline. “I want to see them first, though.”

He nods, and leads her to the cradles. She leans down and stares back and forth between her babies — her babies, her own children — red and clean and tiny… and so beautiful they take her breath away. She presses her hand to the transparisteel of Luke’s cradle, and he stirs without waking.

“Bail,” she breathes reverently, “they’re perfect.”

“Yes. Yes, they are.” He draws her back to him, and she has to wipe away sudden tears. “They’ll be safe, Padmé. Let’s get you back to bed.”

“I don’t want to leave them. I know they’re safe… I just… don’t want to leave them.”

“I know.” His voice is gentle, and kind, and Padmé feels warmth bubbling up inside her, gratitude for his friendship and for his help. He rubs her arms soothingly. “Come along, Senator Amidala. Your babies will still be here when their mother has had a rest.”

Her dreams, however, are far from restful. She’s running — Theed Palace morphs into the Galactic Senate into Varykino into Geonosis into… she’s not sure. A ship, she thinks, maybe a Star Destroyer. And Anakin’s voice is calling her name, sometimes vengeful, sometimes pleading, but she can’t stop, she can’t let him catch her, she can’t let him know about the twins…

Padmé wakes to find the meddroids fussing around her again, the only other occupants in the room. Where are Bail and Obi-Wan? Getting sleep, probably.

She turns to the nearest droid and clears her throat. “Excuse me?”

The droid pauses in processing a readout and looks up at her. “Yes, ma’am?”

“Could… could my babies be brought in, please? Or could I go see them?”

The droid pauses. “We have to finish running some tests, but afterwards, that should be possible.”

Padmé relaxes back into her bed. “Thank you.”

Once the droids are done with their readouts, Padmé has to be helped to the ’fresher — why oh why does pregnancy involve so much fluids?! — and cleaned up and given a fresh medcenter gown, after being informed that she has already had a gown replaced on her while she was unconscious and hooked up to the oxygen tank. Given the amount of… well, she really doesn’t want to think about it, but the gown she gave birth in must have been messy, and she can’t find it in her to be more than a little embarrassed about having her clothes changed on her like that.

Not long after she’s back in bed (and grateful for it, between muscle fatigue and… postnatal ickiness), the door hisses open, and two very familiar figures enter the room. “Dormé!” Padmé gasps. “Captain Typho!”

“Milady!” Dormé rushes to Padmé’s bedside, then hesitates. Padmé stretches her arms out in invitation, and her handmaiden embraces her fiercely. “Milady, we were so worried!”

“I’m sorry,” Padmé whispers, looking over Dormé’s shoulder at Typho, who stands back respectfully. He nods to her, his face grim, and her heart sinks. “How did you find me?”

“Senator Organa commed me,” Typho replies. “He gave me the coordinates, and I decided to bring Dormé with me.”

“I’m glad he did,” says Dormé, releasing Padmé at last and perching on the edge of the bed. “What in the galaxy happened to you?”

Padmé opens her mouth, then closes it and shakes her head. “That has to wait for the moment.” She turns to the droids. “Pardon my impatience, but are you nearly done yet?”

“We are,” says the droid she spoke with earlier. “Do you wish for privacy?”

“Yes, please. Give me half an hour, and then you can bring my babies in.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The droids take their leave, and Dormé stares after them, wide-eyed. “Babies?”

Padmé smiles ruefully. “Twins.”

Dormé shakes her head. “Trust you not to do anything by halves!”

Padmé chuckles faintly, then returns her attention to Typho, sobering again. “Captain, you could be in danger just being here… I need to go into hiding — I can’t imagine that Palpatine will want me at liberty, or even alive.”

Typho’s expression grows even more grim. “No, he doesn’t. The majority of the Delegation of Two Thousand has been rounded up and imprisoned on charges of treason.”

Padmé’s hand flies to her mouth, her chest constricting. She should have thought… “We made it so easy,” she whispers. “A petition with the names of the Senators who opposed his power… we made it so easy for him.”

Dormé shakes her head. “Milady, you couldn’t have known things would get this bad.”

Typho nods. “No one could have suspected what Palpatine was really up to until it was too late. The fault does not lie with you or Senator Organa or anyone else on that list.”

“Bail! What about him — are they going to arrest him, too?”

“From what I can tell, no. I’m no politician, but despite the fact that Palpatine just declared himself Emperor of the known galaxy, I don’t think even he would try to imprison the consort of the monarch of a Core World. At least, not this early in the game.”

Padmé nods weakly. “You’re right, I’m sure. Still, Bail needs to be cautious.”

Dormé turns to Typho. “And what do we do, Captain?” Because, of course, they have on their hands one of the leaders of the Two Thousand, who has also just given birth to a Jedi’s children.

Typho sighs and looks to Padmé. “Milady… I think that for once we might be in agreement concerning your safety.”

Padmé smiles ruefully. “I think so, Captain. I know what I should do.” She closes her eyes, shame welling up inside her. “But I have to let my people down to do it.”

“You’ll find a way to continue to serve our people, I have no doubt. But you cannot help them if you are in prison or dead.”

Padmé bows her head, bites her lip, and nods. “I know,” she whispers, opening her eyes. “I can’t keep the twins, either, unless I go into hiding. Master Yoda says they’re strong in the Force — Palpatine will go after them once he knows about them.”

Typho nods solemnly. “I think, Senator, it’s time to use the doll.”

Dormé shudders. “That awful thing?”

Padmé sits up straighter — she’d forgotten about the doll! “We had it made for this exact reason, Dormé. If there was ever an extreme circumstance in which I needed to fake my death.”

Typho’s one eye is fixed on her. “You agree, then?”

Padmé almost says yes, then hesitates. Mom… Dad… Sola… the girls… Grandma Ryoo… what will this loss do to them? Exactly what it will do if Palpatine finds you. She sighs heavily and nods. “Yes, Captain, I agree.”

He bows his head. “Thank you, milady.”

Dormé turns back to Padmé. “But what will you do, milady? Where will you go?”

Padmé shakes her head, beginning to feel overwhelmed. “I’m not sure, just yet.”

“You don’t need to decide right now,” says Typho, “but you do need to make a plan soon.”

“I will,” she nods wearily, “I will. I do, unfortunately, need a little time — you would not believe how the past… how many days? three?... have played out for me.”

Typho pulls up a chair for himself. “We do have a little time.”

Padmé’s face twists. “I’m not sure… I’m not sure I can…”

Dormé takes her hand in her own, her lovely features full of concern. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

Padmé takes a shaky breath. “No… no, I should. I know I should.” She looks between her loyal bodyguards and continues, “Please, don’t be angry with him.”

Typho shakes his head. “With Kenobi?”

“No… well, yes, actually, him, as well — don’t be angry with him either.” Her voice drops to a whisper again. “I meant Anakin.”

Dormé is speechless at the end of Padmé’s halting account of Mustafar. Typho, however, has gone into complete lockdown, no trace of emotion in his expression… which Padmé knows from previous experience means he is well and truly furious.

“How could he?” Dormé asks finally.

Padmé hangs her head. “I don’t know.” It’s not quite the truth, but she doesn’t know how to untangle in her own mind the things she knows about Anakin that might have brought him to the point where he could make such horrific choices, much less give voice to them. “Obi-Wan —” her voice cracks — “Obi-Wan says he saw Anakin… he saw Anakin die. He won’t say how.”

“Good,” Typho says shortly, and Padmé flinches, bracing herself for the storm. Her chief of security stands. “I know you loved him, Senator, but there is nothing in the universe that can justify what he did — to you, to anyone.” He half-turns away, lip curling in disgust. “And I trusted him with your safety.”

Padmé shakes her head, heart beating rapidly. “Captain, please, you can’t blame yourself. You… he…” She can’t think straight, her head feels light, and her heart won’t slow down, her pulse throbbing in her ears. Distantly, she feels arms wrap around her, and Dormé’s voice soothing her, telling her to calm down, she’s okay, just breathe, just breathe, she’s going to be all right, just breathe…

As Padmé regains awareness, she finds her handmaiden glaring at Typho. “That’s enough, Captain. She’s been through too much to deal with this right now.”

“She has to deal with it, Dormé!”

“Yes, but not right now. You’re a soldier; you’ve seen people suffering from trauma. If you don’t want to lose her, you’re going to be gentle with her and not force her to deal with anything before she’s ready to.”

“My hero,” Padmé murmurs, giving the older woman a faint smile.

Dormé gives her a watery smile in return. “My pleasure.”

There’s a knock on the door, and a voice calls, “Padmé, are you awake? May we come in?”

“Bail! Yes, come in!”

The door hisses open to reveal Bail and Obi-Wan, and… she hears Dormé’s sharp intake of breath, but Padmé only has eyes now for the bundles in the men’s arms, and stretches her arms out for them… Then they’re being placed carefully in her hold, one on either arm, and she doesn’t realize that she’s been holding her breath until she’s holding them both, warm and sleeping and utterly perfect.

And for one moment, there is no pain, no grief — only the joy of holding her babies at last.

She drags her gaze away from her children and looks up at her friends past her tears. “Thank you.”

Obi-Wan looks more on the verge of tears than she’s ever seen him, even while grieving for his master, and he nods wordlessly.

Bail smiles and murmurs, “You’re welcome,” then looks up at Typho. “Captain, I’m glad you’re here.”

“Thank you for contacting me, Senator. We were all worried.”

Bail turns to Dormé. “Ah, and Dormé.” He takes her hand and bows over it, ever the consummate gentleman. “A pleasure to see you, though I wish it was under better circumstances.”

“As do I.” Dormé glances back at the babies, eyes full of wonder. “Thank goodness there is some light left in the galaxy.”

“Luke and Leia,” says Padmé, and then she chuckles ruefully. “I don’t know right now which is which.”

Obi-Wan clears his throat. “Luke is on your left, Leia on your right.”

She smiles in thanks, and bends over to lightly kiss each small, soft forehead, inhaling their sweet scent. “You are so beautiful,” she whispers.

Dormé rises from the bed. “All right, you lot,” she says to the men, “out with you now.” She makes shooing motions, her tone brooking no argument. “Let the mother have her privacy.”

The three men obey, shuffling awkwardly out of the room, Typho casting dark looks at Obi-Wan, and Dormé sighs as the door hisses shut behind them. But when she turns to Padmé, she smiles in satisfaction.

“Aren’t you going to let me have my privacy?” Padmé teases.

“Not unless you want to try breastfeeding twins entirely on your own when they rouse up.”

Padmé’s eyes widen. “Oh, right.”

Dormé nods. “Now, I’ve never seen a woman nurse twins, but I remember well enough my mother nursing my little brother. I think we can manage.”

Padmé smiles, tears pricking her eyes again. “What would I do without you?”

“You’d have three men trying to help you nurse your children instead.”

They burst out laughing the awkward mental image, and it feels so good to be laughing again. Padmé can’t remember how long it’s been since she laughed, and tears start to mingle with the laughter.

“Oh, milady, no, I’m sorry.” Dormé’s expression is instantly full of remorse. “I should be helping you keep your emotions stable right now.”

“No… no, I needed this. I’m all right, I promise.” Still, Padmé struggles to stop the tears, and the twins begin to rouse.

Dormé comes forward and lays her hands on Padmé’s shoulders, rubbing them gently. “Shhhh. It’s time to see what your babies want.”

As it turns out, Luke and Leia just want to go back to sleep. Padmé swallows the disappointment of not seeing her children’s eyes open and rocks Leia in bed while Dormé rocks Luke.

“Don’t worry, milady,” Dormé murmurs. “They’ll wake soon enough, and often, especially at night, and then you’ll wish they were sleeping.”

“I know… It’s just that I’ve barely seen them since they’ve been born.”

Dormé nods in understanding. “Would you like me to leave you alone with them?”

Padmé hesitates. On one hand, she has not had a single moment alone with her children, and on the other hand, there are two of them, and Dormé’s original point remains: she hasn’t nursed them yet and she’s not sure how to feed both of them. “If… if you don’t mind staying…”

Dormé smiles and sinks into the chair Typho used earlier. “Of course not — that’s what I’m here for.”

Padmé has to blink back tears again, and she gives a self-deprecatory laugh. “I’m sorry, my emotions really are all over the place right now.”

Dormé smiles sympathetically. “One of the joys of new motherhood, unfortunately. It won’t last forever, milady; you don’t have to be hard on yourself.”

Of course, that only brings fresh tears to Padmé’s eyes, and she groans even as she smiles back. “I’ll try to remember that.”

When Luke and Leia finally start to rouse again, both in their mother’s arms now, it’s Leia who wakes first. Padmé holds her breath as her daughter looks up at her with dark marble-blue eyes, tiny lips puckering, brows furrowing… Luke opens his eyes, the same shade of blue, and Padmé wonders whether they’ll share eye color in the future and whether they’ll look more like Anakin or more like her…

Leia starts to fuss, and Dormé comes forward. “It might be feeding time now. Let me take Luke — I’m not sure you can nurse more than one at a time.”

“Okay.” Padmé reluctantly lets go of her son, who is echoing his sister only half-heartedly, thank goodness, and works to open up her gown, this one thankfully opening up in front as well as in back. Leia continues to fuss, and Padmé murmurs, “It’s all right, little one, I’m working on it.” Heart pounding, she moves Leia up and close, and the baby quickly latches on. Padmé gasps at the sensation, and Dormé winces.

“Are you all right, milady?”

“I’m sure… I’ll be… fine,” Padmé grits out, eyes wide. “Dammit, Leia, can you please take it easy on your poor mother?”

Luke starts to fuss in earnest now, and Dormé rocks him, sighing. “We should probably try to set up feeding schedules, have some formula on hand… I need to do some HoloNet research on how to handle human twin babies.”

Padmé hisses as her daughter feeds quietly now, content and blissfully unaware of her mother’s discomfort. “You’re talking like you’re going to stay with me when I go into hiding properly.”

Dormé raises both eyebrows. “Forgive me, milady, but… you were planning on doing this alone?”

Padmé blushes. “I don’t know. I don’t have a plan just yet.”

Dormé nods as she rocks Luke more energetically, somehow managing to keep him from crying outright. “That’s what I thought. Milady, you need more help than Threepio can provide.”

Threepio! Padmé’s eyes widen in guilt — she’d completely forgotten about her faithful companion — but Dormé is still speaking.

“You can’t — you shouldn’t — do this alone. Besides which, I took an oath, Senator — an oath that I would serve and protect you. And help you in any way I can when you need it.” The older woman looks at Padmé pleadingly. “I want to help.”

Padmé shakes her head slowly, having to swallow tears again. “I can’t… I can’t ask that of you.”

“You don’t have to!”

“Anybody who comes with me and my children is going to be in danger.”

“I know.”

“I don’t want you to end up like Cordé!” Leia breaks off from her feeding, and both twins start to cry.

But Dormé holds Padmé’s gaze steadily even as she tries to soothe Luke. “I’ll do my best not to. But that’s my choice to put myself in that kind of danger, just as it was hers.” As Padmé opens her mouth, Dormé cuts her off: “I miss her, too, Padmé!” She softens her voice. “After all this time, I still miss her. But she would have been offering to come with you, too, if she were here, knowing the risks, knowing the whole galaxy would be against her. It’s going to be difficult, I know that. Lonely. But I made a promise, and, Padmé, you tell me how I’d be able to look my reflection in the eye if I broke that promise now, because I don’t know how I would, knowing that I’d allowed the most important person of my life to go off alone into danger when she needed someone to have her back.”

Padmé tries to speak, but no words come to her, just an ache and also a relief that washes from her tense shoulders on down her body that she doesn’t have to face the next few years, however they pan out, alone. She lost her husband, but she’s not going to lose one of her dearest friends. Her vision blurs fiercely, and she doesn’t resist when Dormé puts Luke back in her arms and takes Leia.

“You’re stuck with me, milady,” Dormé says quietly, warmly, “whether you like it or not.”

#Padme Lives AU #Star Wars #swfic #Revenge of the Sith #Padme Amidala #sw au #Sky writes stuff #Dorme #Obi Wan Kenobi #Captain Typho #Bail Organa

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roxannepolice · 6 years

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Dark side of the simulacra

Simulacra and precession of simulacra are one of the concepts explaining postmodernity, one created by Jean Baudrillard. I’m about to elaborate on what he understands by these terms, but for the less engaged among you, here’s the shortest definition ever:

Death Star is a simulacrum and StarKiller Base is a preceeding simulacrum. Or so they are in the eyes of general audience.

Ok, now for more elaboration. Simulacrum is basically a symbol which lost the connection with its meaning, destroying the meaning itself in the process. It’s in contrast to representation (which equates a meaning with a symbol), as simulation negates the symbol as value. Simulation encapsulates the meaning and the symbol and devours them both, transforming them into the simulacrum. A good comparison provided by Baudrillard is that of what simulation is commonly understood as and what are the result of its abuse. When you simulate a sickness (which is more than just pretending to be sick, to simulate you’ll force yourself to vomit, artificially heighten you temperature, etc.) you make people question if there even is anything like a sickness – because if all the signs can be faked, then how can it be diagnosed?

Baudrillard opens his dissertation by recalling a story about a country of cartographers – their great ambition was to create a map of their country which would be as accurate as possible. And so they would make it more and more accurate until finally they created a 1 to 1 map, basically a huge coloured blanket which covered their entire country. And if that sounds like apparent creative process behind The Force Awakens – then yeah, it should. I’ll say more, it’s the next generation of that cartographer country taking a satellite photo of that 1 to 1 map and covering that map with their satellite map.

Because Baudrillard presents four stages of relationship between a meaning a simulacrum:

a meaning, an idea (say, and idea of destruction, aggression)

an idea receives a tangible body (nuclear weapons. I mean the real ones.)

tangible reality receives abstract symbols, which don’t lose touch with the meaning – that’s the level of representation (Death Star. it’s overblown, it’s fictional but it represents a fear of a weapon capable of destroying entire planet, a fear very real during the cold war)

abstract symbols give birth to new abstract symbols, which may make an impression of being more real than the actual idea (StarKiller. Death Star only BIGGERRRRRRR, so more EVIL than the Death Star) – and this is also the point at which that symbol of a symbol may destroy its own meaning, become the exact opposite of itself (obviously both Death Star and SKB are negative symbols of aggression and how many people here on the hellsite met with very real aggression over a very not real StarKiller?)

Now, to the average viewer, that’s how TFA came to be. Take A New Hope and repeat it. Maybe make everything more – make Rey more abandoned than Luke, BB-8 cuter than R2-D2, StarKiller bigger than Death Star, Hux more skinny than Tarkin, First Order more nazi than Empire, Resistance more heroic than Rebels and Kylo Ren more evil than Darth Vader, underlined by giving him an even more evil looking lightsaber. Oh, and give Luke a more Jesus like hair than Obi-Wan had.

To fake. To dream. Perchance to watch The Last Jedi and throw a tantrum because what the hell is this?

Yes, TLJ destroyed every illusion that the sequels will be simply an originals’ simulacrum. Resident Vader didn’t get redeemed when he killed the resident Palpatine, Luke didn’t happily jump back into action like Obi-Wan, a heroic Rouge One like disobedience got people pointlessly killed, apparent neutral good Lando was a actually a selfish junk and celibate-to-be orphan looking for her parents actually knew all along her parents were dead garbage and, wait, wants a D? An evil D at that? PREPOSTEROUS, that’s against everything Star Wars is.

Well, thank the force we got such reactions. Because it shows the symbol needs to be reattached to its meaning before it gets devoured by simulation, which is exactly what I believe the sequels are here to do. Now, as I confess I didn’t recognize in 2015 but the fine people on this site have shown me, there were obvious clues this was not going to go the way we think already in TFA, but, well, they require a moment’s thought. On the most obvious symbolic level – the StarKiller didn’t simply get blown up like Death Star only once the shell fell off, a sun was reborn. Anyway, enjoy.

Devil wears Boss or how to make nazis even more nazi

Trigger warning: I go unpleasant places in this paragraph relating to WW II and nazism, up to the point of actually quoting nazi agenda, but if you want to reattach a meaning with a simulacrum sometimes you have to go to unpleasant places. That being said, if it is upsetting to you, please stop here.

Arite, how many people here have been called literal nazi supporters for rooting for Kylo Ben’s redemption?

How many for rejoicing over Darth Anakin’s redemption?

Yeah. First Order is even more nazi than the Empire. Their weapon is more destructive, Hux is more Hitler, cinematography is more Riefenstahl, oh, and look, the protagonists are a woman and a POC, in case there was any question of power imbalance represented. Well, clearly, First Order are literal neo nazis, right?

Hold your horses. LITERAL definition of neonazism from online Collins dictionary: a modern extreme right-wing political movement and ideology based on a resurgence of support for Nazi ideological principles. Ok... So, Nazism? Nazi Party, byname of National Socialist German Workers’ Party, German Nationalsozialistische Deutsche Arbeiterpartei (NSDAP), political party of the mass movement known as National Socialism. Under the leadership of Adolf Hitler, the party came to power in Germany in 1933 and governed by totalitarian methods until 1945. I can’t see anything literal here to be applied to the GFFA, especially if Star Wars happen a long time ago. Mean question, but how many woken tumblrers knew there’s “socialist” in NSDAP?

I could rest my case here. But of course, what we do mean by “literal” Nazism is racism, anti-Semitism, homophobia, cult of a leader, cult of power, belief in god given superiority... And to be fair, oversticking to historical circumstances may be just as harmful as overabstracting the subject, as I’m about to point out. But there’s still nothing “literal” in a sequel to kids’ movie.

That’s simulation at its finest. Symbols, appearances of imperialist ideologies have become completely detached from how they actually functioned historically – and themselves became a reason to send racist anons over a space opera. Now, I have a misfortune of living in a country where far right is doing well right now and if you think those guys are listening to Wagner, you’re badly mistaken. Of course, they won’t call themselves neonazis, because Nazism is a thing exclusive to Germans and European Union is heir apparent to Third Reich. And abortion is a nazi practice. And Hitler was a vegetarian, so vegetarians are evil. That’s what they actually say you know. But hatred towards people of other ethnicities and religions? Yes, very much there. Including suggestions of “final solutions”, albeit mostly in online discussions. Oh, and guess what, they can watch Star Wars and understand that they are supposed to be FO. Conclusion? Hollywood-jewish agenda. Believe me, showing the FO members die in agony won’t make actual neonazis rethink their ways. They’re romantic heroes on a quest against a globalist empire, strike them down and they’ll become more powerful.

The First Order aren’t literal neonazis. They are neo-frequent-villains-in-video-games-nazis. I would actually argue that the parallel to Nazism in Star Wars only became clear when we saw how Palpatine came to power – in thunderous applause of democratic rules, just like Hitler and it should above all warn us of the pitfalls awaiting a system as good as democracy. Making Rae Sloane, a co-creator of the first order a bisexual WOC was a conscious step at detaching FO from what the nazi party historically was. The original imperials are closer to a more abstract totalitarian system and imperial ideology, thus being more of a critique of generally understood western world in the 70s, finding its peak in Vietnam War. Interestingly, one of the movies which inspired Lucas while making ANH was Pontecorvo’s The Battle of Algiers, where “the Empire” would be... France. Somehow I don’t see Renperor being compared to de Gaulle.

Ah, but that’s not so simple. If we want to dig deeper, beyond the level of tangible history and into the world of ideas, then FO is indeed symbolic of Nazism understood as aggression, thoughtless hatred, war, will to destroy all opposition, army as a totalitarian subsystem, suspension of human rights, antiparliamentarism. That’s nothing good and historical circumstances have nothing to do with it. And Disney-LF brings this point home. Depiction of violence in the sequels is much more realistic than in the originals.

Mind probe, in the originals shown as an evil looking syringe and Vader with Leia behind closed doors (no screams, next time we see her she’s fine), in the sequels is shown as a psychological violation of the worst kind

Death Star shot Alderaan we knew nothing about into smithereens and it was soooo coool and all we saw was Leia’s horror and Obi-Wan’s impression in the force – StarKiller was a slow scene with evil red rays and horror of people on Couruscant, planet we knew well, as they were about to be burned to death

Vader was force choking anonymous imperials to death like nothing short of a comic relief, Kylo choking Hux not to death is unpleasant to watch even if you remember it was Armitage who rooted for using the SKB

Originals’ stormtroopers were faceless cannon fodder, sequels’ have Finn’s face and history of brainwashing.

So, in this sense, FO are indeed metaphorical (because still not literal) neonazis in a very realistic war circumastances of blood, suffering and subjugation. And I have no doubt that as a collective there’s nothing good in store for them in this trilogy.

But.

Allow me to quote the “best” expert on Nazism there’s ever been (yes, I’m using Hitler’s quote in tumblr post, I can’t believe it, Star Wars what are you making me do, don’t worry, I’m reaching the end of the political dissertation):

It is part of a great leader’s genius to make even widely separated adversaries appear as if they belonged to but one category, because among weakly and undecided characters the recognition of various enemies all too easily marks the beginning of doubt of one’s own rightness.

Talk about expertise in mass psychology. Take a breath, we’re about to return to the GFFA, but so many people use the nazi argument I feel they need contact with LITERAL nazis.

Consciousness of this technique of manipulating the masses is basically why I believe we’re about to get extremist Resistance and differentiated FO. Because right now we have no doubt of the former’s rightness and no recognition of variety in the latter (except for maybe stormtroopers). Additionally, we have coded them as good and bad guys before TFA’s opening crawl even appeared, courtesy of precession of simulacra, promos and how the good guys and the bad guys looked like in the originals. Sustaining this belief is a LITERAL totalitarian technique. And I believe Disney-LF is already making ground for a massive change, both with big game changers like Galen Erso and Finn, but also on a more everyday level in Solo, with actually surprisingly human imperial official coming up with Han’s surname.

FO are the bad guys because they use offensive violence and have no respect for human rights, not use offensive violence because they are the bad guys. And violence used by the Resistance doesn’t become good because good guys use it – they are the good guys because, so far, they’ve only used it defensively and avoided collateral damage. And when the agenda stops being rebuild the republic and becomes burn the first order down – we have reasons to believe it can change. Dehumanisation of the enemy is the first step to lose your own humanity. No extremists attack not believing it was the only way to achieve a noble higher goal.

To cut the long story short, villainy needs to be reattached to offensive violence and not Hugo Boss uniforms. And at this point, I’m afraid it can only be done by making it equally terrifying when dressed in cool leather jackets.

#star wars #first order #simulacra #armitage hux #kylo ren #tw: nazism #tw: world war ii #tw: abortion #tw: adolf hitler #feel like that should be mentioned

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swfanficbyjz · 6 years

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SW Rey Theory - Legacy of Light - Chapter 24

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(Within the 1st year or two after Return of the Jedi, 10 years later)

“Han! Leia! Chewie!” Starkiller watched as Luke excitedly hugged his sister and the others. In her arms was a baby. The baby. He’d been training Ashla for months, but she remained infuriatingly light. Even though he had managed to move her away from the idea of telling Luke they were related. After that first day, she’d decided that it was better not to tell him, and he’d done his best to keep them apart. In fact, the reason she wasn’t here right now was because he’d sent her on a training mission. He’d known that Leia Organa was bringing her new baby to visit. There was still the chance to turn her, but now that he felt this child, he was certain it was the one that would fulfill Darth Vader’s destiny. Compared to Ashla though, and even to Luke and his sister, it was weak in the force. It was still young; some people took longer to come into their power than others, but admittedly he was disappointed. Vader’s bloodline was being sullied by the weak. His grandchild should have been magnificent.

At least that wasn’t the end of the plan. Sidious’ journals provided a way to siphon someone’s power. He’d already been experimenting with it and was certain he’d mastered it enough to help this child reach its full potential. The advantage to Ashla not knowing how powerful she truly was, meant that he could steal from her pool of power and she’d never notice. In fact, all he had to do now was get something from this child and he could start working on transferring the power to it. It would be a slow process, but they had the time. He had to be careful to not take too much from Ashla or give too much to the child before it was ready.

It was time to get to work. He plastered on the fake overly enthusiastic smile and headed their way. “Welcome!” he reached out his hand for them to shake. “You must be the sister I hear so much about. I’m Galen Snoke.” The child started fussing the moment he got close. Maybe it was stronger than he’d given it credit for.

“Hello,” she replied, bouncing to comfort the baby in her arms. “I’m Leia and this is my husband, Han. And our good friend Chewbacca.” She made a funny face at the child trying to soothe it. “And this is Ben, but he’s a little cranky right now apparently.” She smiled apologetically at him as Luke fussed over his nephew.

“Do you mind if I try something? Back before the war I was a bit of a baby whisperer. I learned all sorts of tricks to calm them down. Babies are very sensitive to the force, even if they don’t end up being a user. He can probably feel the energy here and it’s disconcerting to him,” he offered casually, smiling reassuringly at her. She looked tired. New babies will do that to you.

“Oh, uh, sure. It’s worth a shot.” She carefully handed Ben over to him. He smiled down at the baby, knowing that soon enough this child would be the leader of the new world order. The boy tipped its head back and bawled so he spoke softly to it, bouncing in a hypnotic rhythm. It slowly started relaxing and Starkiller started singing to it in the ancient Sith language. Within seconds, the baby hushed and stared up at him with big brown eyes. Before long, he was asleep, and Leia was looking at it relieved. And frankly, so was Han. “Wow, you really are the baby whisperer. I should have you come over at night to put him to sleep.”

He chuckled softly, “I’d be glad to, but my duties are here.”

“What was that you were singing?” Luke asked.

“It was an old nursery rhyme my mother used to sing to me in her native tongue. Must have worked on me too. Unfortunately, I can’t remember what the language was called, I only remember the one song.” Starkiller smiled at them. “Whatever it says, it seems to be a powerful tranquilizer. I still use it to relax sometimes.” They didn’t need to know that it was an actual spell. Not one that hurts the baby, only puts it to sleep. No, the other ones will come later; when he's ready.

Seemingly relieved Ben had fallen asleep, Leia and Luke fell deep into conversation about the current events. So he led Han and Chewbacca around the complex making small talk, and giving them a tour while still rocking the child in his arms. He could sense a small force presence in Han, but if he knew about it, he didn't care. He most certainly hadn't nurtured it in any way. Perhaps if he had, the baby in his arms would be that much stronger. When they returned to the entrance, the twins were still talking and likely hadn't even noticed their absence. He took the opportunity while they were all distracted to swipe some of the baby's hair. Once he delivered this to the acolytes, they could get to work preparing him. It was handy that all of these spells could work from a distance so long as they had a piece of the people involved. He already had a piece of Ashla, because he’d used it to test the transfer of power on himself. He’d also used it to steal some of her life in order slow the plague eating away at his flesh. That was how Sidious had brought Vader back to life after Anakin had been so badly burned he couldn’t have recovered without magic. It required someone that person was bonded with, and he’d already bonded with Ashla.

Eventually, he would need to take her to the acolytes for the final ritual, but for now, the child would grow up opened to the dark side and the Sith spirits would haunt his dreams. He would beg for relief and Starkiller would be able to provide it. Soon enough, its parents would feel at a loss on how to help the kid and they’d turn it over to Luke. Once here, he’d be able to prepare it for its ascension; and when that time came… he’d take Ashla to Taris and gift Ben Solo with her power.

---

"Do you know how beautiful you are?" He pushed her back against the ship wall and she smiled.

"You tell me all the time," Ashla bit her lip, watching him. "Hopefully that's not the only thing you care about though."

"Of course not. There's so much more I love about you, but the way you look is definitely a bonus." He kissed her neck and she tipped her head back with a soft sigh. Getting involved with her Jedi teacher probably wasn't going to end well, her mom could tell her that, but as her and Snoke had gotten close over the past ten years, it had just moved comfortably into that. He was irresistible in such a dangerous and yet exciting way. Sometimes he just had to look at her and she'd melt. He'd come from a sect of Jedi that apparently never had the same hang ups when it came to attachments; where love had been encouraged rather than dismissed. None of them had ever been tempted by the dark side. From what she'd been learning, the mainstream Jedi couldn't say the same.

Luke had tried to restart the order like it once had been, but he hadn't been willing to give up his attachments either, so it had become a gray area in the new order. When running missions with Galen, she didn't feel the fear everyone warned about; the fear of losing him. Of course, she worried about him, but if anything, she felt stronger running by his side because they were so close. From what she'd seen in the clips Artoo had played for her when she first got there, her parents beat the odds all the time because they'd trusted each other so much.

"We're on a mission though, now isn't the time," she murmured, her protests were mainly for show anyways, she loved the way it felt when he touched her. It was hard to believe she’d gone so long never knowing what this was like.

"We won't get to Taris for several hours, we have time. Might as well have a little fun," his warm breath against her skin sent waves of heat rippling through her body.

So much for trying to stay the voice of reason. She threw her arms around his neck and let him have his way. Giving into the need and desire he always ignited in her. Her thoughts gave way to a fuzzy haze of pleasure as he stoked her flame.

---

They arrived on Taris mid-morning. She thought their mission was to find a small group of force users that might join their new order. She was so gullible, she’d believe anything he told her. He watched her move through the ruins at the ready, admiring how much she’d grown, but he was also disappointed. He moved behind her and when she turned to look at him he waved his hand in front of her and she collapsed into his arms. "Oh Ashla," he shook his head. "If you'd just let go of your stubborn hold on the light, it wouldn't have to be this way. We could have ruled side by side as husband and wife." He kissed her on the lips and then scooped her up, carrying her deeper underground where the acolytes awaited.

He didn't want to admit that he'd become fond of her, but personal feelings aside, it was time for the heir of Darth Vader to rise. He'd tried for ten years to tempt Ashla into the darkness; using every trick he could think of. Though she'd been, and still was naïve, she was firmly rooted in the light. Her mother had taught her balance; even teaching her to use dark side spells didn't corrupt her. Her passion could ignite feelings in him he’d long thought dead, and if she’d just turned for him, he could mix his business with pleasure. At least once they drain her power, she won’t be able to resist him; she just wouldn’t be as interesting.

Ben was so much easier to manipulate. After the nightmares and the connection to the Sith spirits they had created when he was a baby, he would beg for relief. He'd hang on every story Starkiller told him, good or bad. Once he'd gotten his own lightsaber crystal, the power transfer had begun. He would steal some of Ashla's power and bind it to Ben's crystal. Every time Starkiller helped him feel more powerful, he fell more and more into their grasp. Ironically it was Ashla that had provided him with the method of her own downfall. She’d told him about lightsaber crystals being a container and how force users bond with them. That’s what had given him the idea to transfer her power to his crystal instead of to him. It had worked far better than their original plan.

Tonight, Ashla was going to lose the rest of her power in the last ritual. The blood of the chosen one would be spilled, and Ben's fate would be sealed. When he awoke the next day he would feel a burst of power and in the rush he would turn. They would then bring him here to Taris, and he would take his rightful place as one of the Knights of Ren. Once official, they would give him the artifacts of power that belonged to his grandfather and he would begin his ascent as the new Darth Vader. Then his master would be silent no more and the wellspring of the dark side would be unlocked.

He laid her down on the altar in the middle of the ritual room and brushed his finger across her lower lip. "Don't worry, dear," he whispered to her even though she was still unconscious. "I have no reason to kill you. We will only drain your force power." He ran his hand down her body. "At least pretending to be in love with you wasn't the worst thing in the world."

"Welcome home, Starkiller," Tashu said as he entered the room followed by the rest of the acolytes. Their numbers had multiplied since he'd found them ten years before. The new Republic believed the Empire was crushed. Little did they know, the new order; the First Order of the new darkness was rising from its ashes. The Knights of Ren were pulling strings all over the galaxy, everything was playing out exactly as they planned. And now that Ashla was here, the dark side would rise again; and it would be far more powerful than the Sith had ever been.

"I have brought you Darth Vader's daughter, just as I promised. Prepare the ritual. The time of reckoning has come."

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libertarianbarbarian · 3 years

Text

United State Wars Troopers

United Starwars Troopers

Facts:

- https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Galactic_Empire/Legends#Government_and_politics

- https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Loyalist

- https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Galactic_Republic#Organization

- https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Sector_Governance_Decree

- https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Delegation_of_2,000

- https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Petition_of_2,000

-https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Starship_Troopers#Militarism

- https://www.amazon.com/Expanded-Universe-Worlds-Robert-Heinlein/product-reviews/0441218830?pageNumber=2

OPED WARNING

“My grandmother used to tell me stories about the old days, a time of peace when the Avatar kept balance between the Water Tribes, the Earth Kingdom, Fire Nation, and the Air Nomads. But that all changed when the Fire Nation attacked. Only the Avatar, master of all four elements, could stop the Fire Nation.” Oh yeah, I’m going to get that dorky with it today!

So, here’s the spiel, we’re divided as ever. The left hates the right, liberals hate “nazis”, or “fascists”, or “racists” …or whatever the hell it is now and days. But there’s something to be said about coming together. I’m sorry but no matter what news source you look at whether it be CNN, or Newsmax…or Fox News, then you’re inevitably going to come up with one conclusion. We’re divided. The only real thing that you’re going to see is the source of the division from network to network.

I know, I know, you’re tired about hearing all of this bullshit by now. Got it, and I am too damn it…but hear me out on this one. This is classically, no comically standard procedure, and probably something that all of us have seen before. One look at my FACTS section and you’ll know where I’m going with this. I personally thought about it for a moment and started laughing my ass off about the whole thing myself!

So yeah, Star Wars, and Starship Troopers. Something everyone knows, and probably loves to hell. Well if you take a close look at everything you start to see a pattern. Back when “Lucasfilms” came out with the prequels of the series that everyone, except my goofy ass, hated they tried to explain how the galaxy was as fucked as it was. Back in the beginning of everything, regarding the prequels, it was kind of calm and had the normal shenanigans going on in politics. You know, a little corruption here, a lobbyist there, special interests for specific politicians popping up all over the place, normal stuff.

Well the biggest thing that popped up was the clone wars. I understand that it didn’t really kick off until episode II but stick with me on this. There was major upheaval. One man, spoiler alert…if you didn’t already know, Senator Palpatine rose through the ranks to prominence. In the background he was manipulating something that they call “the outer rim”, or a special group of planets in the galaxy that weren’t part of the “Galactic Republic”. Think of like a foreign interest’s type of thing. Not to long after that war broke out between a group in “the outer rim” and the “Galactic Republic” called the clone wars.

Yes, we’ve got little Anakin Skywalker, emotional little shit bag, and Padme Amidala as the protagonist’s along with young Obi-Wan Kenobi. There’s something to be said about the main political shit going on around the same time and the division it caused amongst the masses though. Basically while the “Clone Wars” were going on you still had senators going “rabble rabble” in one big hall that represented their planet and then Senator Palpatine inching his ass in to the Supreme Chancellor spot…or I guess their version of a president? Anyways slowly but surely, he started to use the war itself as a springboard to slowly limit the powers of the individual citizens, then BAM! Out comes the “Galactic Empire” that we’re all familiar with and the still evermore moody Anakin Skywalker now Darth Vader.

Ok, I think we’re all caught up now. The reason why I say that there was a major division going on here that made me laugh is that this all sounds vaguely familiar. Right now, as it is, we have a group of elites in Washington D.C. that are pretty much dictating what and who we are as individuals along with what we say socially. Take a look at the news I’ll wait. Are you back yet?

Alright, the real big thing that I looked in to as hard as I could was what the main doctrine of the Galactic Republic had as its backbone. I couldn’t find it exactly so I had to pull some crime show forensic shit to figure out what the hell was going on, and why was it so easy for that form of government to be broken up. Well looking at it they did have a “constitution”, but from everything I could find it was basically weak as hell. Point one for America right there.

It was nothing during a time of war for Palpatine to just waltz right in and declare himself the Supreme Chancellor. He still had to divide the senate and get them to argue amongst each other. Cause a little chaos here, question the morals of a specific candidate. Ahem…call in to question the freaking Supreme Chancellor Valurum, the guy before him. There ya go, bad guy in office for the movies to continue.

The part that really started to get me laughing though was the way everything was set up after I started to do my research for this blog. They had almost the exact same set up we did. “Office of the Chancellor”, “Galactic Senate”, “Judicial Department”. If you ask me that kind of sounds like the President, Congress, and the Supreme Court. Well I think that one might be a draw…maybe. Hold up, all the power was easily transferable to the Galactic Senate, because red tape. Yup, they put out all this shit that pretty much made it easy for them to grab power from anyone and everyone they wanted to through bureaucracy. As a matter of fact, Palpatine our good old Sith buddy here added more on to it.

One thing that I’m pretty sure everyone else knows, even though we’ve got a shit ton of red tape going through our own government here it’s damn near impossible to do that from any one of our three branches. They try, they always do, but because of the constitution of the United States of America, ahem, “You will fail!” I’m sorry that was just way to damn easy not to do.

So to say that we’re close to but not quiet like the Star Wars franchise is kind of funny. Yes, we are. We’re not exactly like space traveling ninjas that can do some pretty cool looking Dragon Ball Z stuff, nor are our two governmental systems EXACTLY alike, but we have something that they have and it’s political officials causing both division and derision with in our own society.

Palpatine isn’t just one specific person with in our own in real life society. Hell no! Instead he’s an amalgamation of several different things and groups we have going on right now. Social justice warriors, the ones that want to sit there and tell you that we have to accept the what is told to us by their community because no matter the situation they are right and we are wrong and that’s the way we’ve set it up for, I don’t know, millennia now. There’s the politicians that placate to the exact same kind of bullshit that’s been reiterated by the social justice warriors and those who are from the opposite that lets be honest here kind of issue the same rhetoric and year after year slowly increase government power and their paychecks.

There’s also, and you know I don’t like these folks here, big tech. I’m all for a company growing in the free market. I’m all for it becoming a big conglomerate of sorts. What I’m not for is that company monopolizing the market that it’s in, nor am I for that company not obeying the laws of its country of origin. Oh! Yeah almost forgot, here’s the liberal in me if you want to put it that way, I’m also not for these companies blatantly censoring those of a creed, race, political choice, religion, or country of origin. We should all have freedom of speech and be willing to accept the consequences of our actions no matter what caused them. All of those factors and groups are our Palpatine.

One thing that my ass is definitely going to talk about here is the Galactic Republic a little more. If you take a deeper dive in to the Star Wars franchise, you’ll notice something as well. Doing research about the whole Galactic Republic, and then the Galactic Empire there was a promise that further divided people. The promise of safety.

Granted everyone wants to be safe. Hell, I want to be safe, but there’s something to be said about HOW you are safe. Call me heated now because damn this is going to be a touchy one. Are you anymore safer if you relinquish how you are safe? Are you any safer in your very free mind if you have someone forcibly tell you how to be safe? I’m sorry but my answer is always going to be no. As should yours. The Galactic Republic, much like our own government, slowly eroded its own power through bureaucratic policy after bureaucratic policy. Even in the movies you can blatantly see them do this in the few scenes that they hold in the movies. Hell, one of the most famous movie quotes is “So this is how liberty dies…with thunderous applause.”

I’m sorry but there’s always one sure fire way to be able to get people to commit to that, make them afraid then divide them. We see it play out plenty of times a day here in our own country. The news reports things out of context, or completely false on both sides. Legislatures and other government officials will add more laws to try and cover up what we as a nation had as one of our founding documents. Then the radicals from either side will sit there and either fight against it with their utmost or tell the general population that there needs to be more.

It’s not right. Now there is a flipside to this coin. Militarism. And here’s the little gobblety goop that caused me to take pause and add in Starship Troopers to this whole mess. This whole series started off as a book that was written by Robert A. Heinlein. Don’t ask, I don’t know how to seriously pronounce his name. But I’m pretty sure that not many of my readers will know who the hell that is. I’m pretty sure that my readers would know more about the comical movie that was made in the nineties. I sure as hell didn’t know that there was a book written before the movie.

Now I say “Militarism” because that’s pretty much what Starship Troopers is all about. And it sure as hell mirrors other things that are going on now and days as well. The left has been militarized to form groups like “Antifa”. The right now has groups that won’t start a fight, nor are they racist, but sure as hell will finish a fight like “The Proud Boys”. Don’t get me wrong I have no issues with the proud boys, however I don’t think that their answer is quiet the right one. Some of the things that both groups do that could end up looking like some engagement on “Klendathu”.

Basically, though, in the 1950’s this writer Robert A. Heinlein wrote a sci-fi critique of what he believed was wrong with the U.S. at the time. He’d been stated for “glorified the military…Specifically the P.B.I., Poor Bloody Infantry, the mudfoot who places his frail body between his loved home and the wars desolation-but is rarely appreciated…he has the toughest job of all and should be honored.” Cool so he’s a fan of the military right? Well not so fast there. I, as a veteran of the Army, wouldn’t stand for the bullshit in the movies that he put out.

You’re only a citizen if you’ve served two years in the Starship Troopers military. Only citizens can vote. Only citizens have the right to apply for a license to procreate with their partner. I’m sorry but that would be more towards the right side of things. I can’t name a single military veteran that would actually be cool with that. Yeah democrats getting into our highest position in the executive offices would absolutely mean budget cuts. Oh, and that means that they end up drawing back on forces or start kicking out soldiers for the simplest or pettiest of reasons. No that’s not a way to go ahead and start doing things either.

See the thing about Heilein here is that he had a very crazy view on things. He looked at the way that the U.S. was at the time and thought “hey we need to hand out more ass whoopin’s.” I’m sorry what? Yes, that’s right, the guy who wrote Starship Troopers thought that there wasn’t enough corporal and capital punishment now and days.

Now if you said something like all around I might could get around that if we were talking a little less harsh corporal punishments than used to be passed around back in the day. The women suffrage movement should have been an example for just women, but for everyone. We don’t need a repeat of the “rule of thumb” for the next poor soul that fucks up in a way that’s irredeemable to their partner. No, I’m down with corporal punishment if it’s with less severe crimes than the big ones. You know rape, child molestation, man slaughter, stuff like that. I think that we can all agree that child molestation needs to be more punishable than “three squares and a cot”.

But one thing that we’ve shied away from what we use to be, and it caused us as a nation. I’m not suggesting that we all of a sudden put Rico on the stocks and start whipping him. It was negligible homicide, and he didn’t know what he was doing leave the poor kid alone. No, if you really want to keep people together first you have to start with a set of minds that things need to be more punishable than they are. Go ahead and call the child molester out and sentence him to death. It’s been proven that its more cost effective to our jail system anyways, and who in their right or left mind wouldn’t want to protect their own children?

No people, one less murderer is still one less murderer. Make sure there’s a time period where they do a more in-depth investigation to make sure that we’ve got the right guy. Make sure that there weren’t any false allegations handed forward against the person you say is a child molester. But if you’re caught selling drugs to someone that you know are illegal and could get the person addicted then you should absolutely not be a seamstress getting that “three squares and a cot”. No hell no, but the person’s ass to work, make them take responsibility for what they did. Put their ass to work like we use to with chain gangs, there’s plenty of substantive materials that we could use the jail systems help on producing.

Of course, the libertarian in me is going to cry out…right…about…now! There’s something to be said though about repealing other things away. No direct profit for any given company in regard to the labor put for by the “chain gang”. Give the profit nation wide to those we put to labor, have them reap some sort of reward. You commit to A form of corporal punishment and rehabilitate them at the same time. Win, win.

Now that I’m off of my little pulpit there’s something that goes back to topic here. In Starship Troopers there’s one agreement that I can make with author. Some conflicts have to be resolved by force. One thing that I will absolutely agree and disagree with at the same time. We didn’t need to go to Iraq, but we did need to go to Afghanistan. There were terrorists that were wreaking havoc on the whole of Afghanistan and in order for those people to chose for themselves what and who they want to be we needed to weed that shit out. No, we didn’t go there to do that originally. Yes, we went there to get Osama Bin Laden. But it was something that once we found we couldn’t stand for as a nation.

So yes, I agree that if we have an incursion against us, like 9/11, then we have to retaliate just like we did or what happened in Pearl Harbor. But when we find further injustice and the people cry out, well fuck if they ask us for aide then it’s our responsibility to answer. Hell, no should we be looking for “WMD’s”. We all figured out what the ploy was there real quick. Yes, they had a dictator that was gassing them pretty much every day. But the responsibility belongs to those countries around them to take refugee’s and protect them.

So, there’s absolutely an answer to all this division we have…and yeah, we see it all the time in our media. We have to sit on our high horse as a nation and as a people and first cut the division bullshit and then stop being like “Star Wars” or “Starship Troopers” and agree to disagree. I parrot this bullshit all day long and damn near every freaking blog. We need the third party, libertarians, to go ahead and help things along so that the two warring political parties we have right now don’t divide and conquer us. We see this all the time in our movies and books. We have a choice, do we still want looting, rioting, and others reaching across the isle to call each other names and censor them…Or do we want to be like Palpatine and start the first “Galactic Empire” and make everyone fear us?

#star wars #starship troopers #politics #democrats #joe biden #biden administration #senate

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