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hardlyinteresting · 3 years

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Risks Worth Taking 2/2

This is the second half, part 2/2 of the story, thank you to everyone who has read it! Professor!Zemo x Student reader Part 1 here The reader takes Zemo’s philosophy class focusing on Machiavelli. Posted in 2 parts because it exceeded the textbox limit. Apx 3k words.

Warnings: student-teacher relationship (the reader is of age, no real focus on power imbalance), implied age gap, consumption of alcohol, implication that the reader is sleeping with Zemo for better grades (she's not) and of course let me know if you want me to add anything else!!

Week five, he is not shocked to find she’s once again the first one in class. “Good evening,” he greets warmly, unwrapping his scarf from around his neck as he makes his way to his desk. She smiles back, “I left my paper on your desk there, I figured I’d get the pile started”. He laughs setting down his coat and bag, “Something tells me there will be few submissions for this class”.

He’s right. Less than half the class bothers to show up. Most of her peers seem to be getting a head start on winter break, at least the class is quiet she thinks content listening to Helmut summarize the most recently assigned chapters, providing historical context where needed.

“Enjoy your break Helmut,” she says softly as he shuts the lecture hall door.

“You as well. Do you have plans?” She shakes her head, “No, just reading”. He smiles, “Then I am sure it will be a good break indeed”.

The cafe is warm and cosy. She settles comfortably into her favourite booth with her favourite book and a second cup of tea.

The bell at the front door dings as a man enters in a long black coat and leather gloves. Fancy she thinks to herself as he approaches the counter to order. It's usually other students dressed in sweatpants and hoodies, the man’s put together dress piques her interest. He orders and then she watches over the top of her book as he drops a $10 bill into the barista’s tip jar. Oh, well dressed and exceedingly well mannered. She can't help but watch him as he waits. Removing his gloves he tucks them into his pockets and unbuttons his coat, she swears she can smell his cologne from where she sits; it's incredible!

“Cherry blossom tea for Helmut?” The barista calls sliding the cup across the counter.

Helmut? It isn't. Is it? He turns after saying a polite thank you, and she can feel her heart hammering as he turns and she sees his face. It is. She's not sure why she's shocked, she did tell him about this place after all. Do I say something? She wonders, weighing the pros and cons, but her thoughts are halted when she hears his voice,

“Hello,” he smiles softly, “I didn't expect you to be here--I know you pointed this place out, but I wasn't--”

He's worried he's intruding. Oh, how the tables have turned.

“No, no. It's okay! I don't own the place-- did you want to sit? You don't have to--”

He chuckles as her nerves get the best of her.

Silently he sets down his cup shrugging out of his coat, putting it over the back of the chair before sitting down.

“What are you reading?” He smiles, trying to peak at the cover.

Again, after their initial stiffness, the conversation flows smoothly, just like it had in his office. After several warm drinks, and a couple croissants ordered between the two of them it’s grown dark outside. Neither had noticed the cafe empty out slowly over the hours, the barista cleaning up for the night until she clears her throat from behind the counter. They both turn to look at her, finally noticing how quiet the shop is.

“Sorry, we’re closing now,” the barista smiles sweetly. “Not a problem. I apologise, we lost track of time. We’ll get out of your way,” Helmut apologizes. The pair collect their things sliding back into their coats and gloves. Helmut waits patiently for her to be ready to go his hand resting gently at the small of her back as she slips out of the booth and past him.

Helmut stops and puts another bill in the girl’s tip jar.

“Sorry for keeping you,” he apologises again.

Outside the winter wind is cold against their faces.

“Are you hungry?” Helmut asks.

“I could eat,” She responds. “Ever been there?” Helmut asks pointing to the pub across the street. “I don’t know if it’s your speed. It’s not super nice or anything, but their food is decent,” she says honestly. He laughs, “‘Decent’ is better than what I can make at home by myself”.

She bites her lip thinking about it, does he want to spend more time with me?

“Okay,” she smiles as they make their way across the street.

Settled at a table, they wait for their server, she asks, “Was that a fifty dollar bill I saw you put in that tip jar?”

He shrugs, “Yes”.

He says that as if it’s normal, she thinks.

“I know you’re not from here, but you do know that’s a lot of money right?” “Yes,” he shrugs again, “But she made excellent tea all afternoon, she let us stay as late as she could and she was polite. And I have been here long enough to know that servers of any kind don’t get paid fairly. I can afford it, she deserves it”.

She feels the smile grow across her face, she considers gushing that he’s such a good person, but instead what comes out is, “I’m really starting to consider becoming a professor”.

He laughs, “I told you, it’s family money, not my facility pay”. God, that laugh, sets off butterflies in her stomach, the warm, genuine sound of his laughter.

He continues, “Before Sokovia fell, my family were royalty. I was a Baron there”. “I knew your name sounded familiar,” she sighs, “I remember hearing about Sokovia on the news. I remember your name, you were building orphanages and relief centres”.

He nods sadly, “Many of us thought we could salvage what we had left after everything. We couldn’t”.

“I’m so sorry,” she says, without thinking she reaches across the table to place a comforting hand on his arm. His hand comes to cover hers, so much larger than her own.

There’s a silence between them for one of the first moment since he sat down with her earlier at the cafe. But it’s not uncomfortable, it’s the opposite -- a silence of understanding, both parties knowing there’s nothing they can say to make things better-- they can only ruminate.

The peace is broken by a waiter coming to take their orders. “Do you drink Helmut?” She asks with a mischievous smile. “I have been known to indulge,” he confesses, his eyebrows furrowed. “Two shots of ?” she turns to look at Helmut expectantly. “Vodka,” he replies. “Two shots of vodka, and an order of cheese fries to share please,” she orders, “thank you”.

The waiter returns not before long, placing the drinks and food on the table.

She holds her shot glass up waiting for him to do the same. “Prost,” he says raising his glass towards her. “Cheers,” she responds clinking her glass into his before they both tip them back.

And that’s how their night begins.

It’s nearing midnight when they settle their bill, Helmut insisting he pay-- though she put up a good fight. “Can I walk you home?” He asks looking at her under the light of the street lamps. She nods, her face feeling warm both from his attention and the alcohol coursing through her bloodstream. Her apartment is only three blocks away, but time seems to slow down as they walk arm in arm through the freshly fallen snow. At her door they stop, she looks up at him, him down at her. Without a thought, lips meet. It’s not rough or particularly sexy, but she feels her knees go weak when his hand comes to cup her cheek, his other splayed across the small of her back pulling her closer. This kiss deepens and she clutches the lapel of his wool coat before they both pull away. “Sorry,” he mumbles. “Don’t be,” she sighs.

Then the thought hits her, “How are you getting home?” “Oh-- I was going to get a cab and go back to the cafe to pick up my car in the morning,” he explains. “Nonsense-- you can stay here,” she offers unlocking her door and stepping inside, he doesn’t follow. “Not in my bed,” she laughs flicking on the light, “I’ll set you up on the couch”. He steps inside.

In the morning he wakes to the sun shining through the window. It takes him a minute to orient himself remembering he crashed on her couch. He sits up taking a moment to look around the apartment, it’s cute. Books and textbooks and notebooks strewn about the place. It’s homey and inviting and every bit what he’d expect her space to look like. Carefully he grabs one of the open notebooks tearing out a page he writes a quick note:

Good morning, I find that I feel very sorry for having to leave before you wake. Alas, I have much to get done, and I do not wish to trespass in your home longer than needed. I am grateful for your hospitality, and even more, your company. If my memory serves correctly I must also apologise for making that advance towards you last night. It was ungentlemanly, and you are unquestionably deserving of much better. I hope you can forgive me, and that you might allow me to make it up to you. -Helmut

Week six.

“He should appear to be compassionate, faithful to his word, guileless, and devout.” Is written across the board. When she settles into her seat. She’s not early this week, rather just on time. Helmut notes the heavy rise and fall of her chest as she tries to catch her breath, he holds back a smile at the thought of her sprinting to his class. When the class is settled, he proceeds to hand back all of the submitted essays, now marked. He smiles as he sets hers on her desk, “Bravo,” he says quietly enough that just she hears it as he shuffles along to the next row of students. She anxiously flips to the last page, red pen scrawl reads 100%. Her jaw drops. There’s no way. She thinks back to the rumours she heard on campus at the beginning of the year, about how difficult a marker he is. Bullshit. Her blood boils, rage sizzling beneath her skin. She avoids his eyes for the rest of class staring down at her notebook as she notices the indents in the blank page-- indents left from where he had written her a note that morning. Her anger freezes replaced by the cold sinking feeling in her chest. All his kind words, all those moments shared-- did he really think she was just spending time with him for a better grade? What kind of handout does he expect to get from her? She scolds herself now for the little crush she’d developed-- how stupid could she be? The prince must appear to be virtuous in order to hide his actions, She remembers from her reading, a dagger to her chest as she thinks bitterly that she’s not shocked that the professor is practising what he preaches.

The class ends and he moves to collect his paperwork, sorting it back into his bag. She stays. “I’m glad you stayed behind,” he starts. “I’m sure you are,” she says sharply. Confused he puts his things down turning to face her. “Have I done something to upset you?” He asks seriously his head tilted to the side as he racks his brain for anything he may have done to make her so cross. Perhaps his note was not sufficient in conveying his apology? “Do you think I’m stupid? Or that I’m naive?” she asks arms crossed, “I’m not sleeping with you for a good grade,” she states firmly, sliding her essay back across her desk, “feel free to adjust my grade accordingly”. Is that what she thinks? His mouth goes dry, his mind and heart racing with all the different ways he wants to apologise, to tell her that she has it wrong. He approaches her, finally making eye contact with her, “Your grade will stay as it is. I mark all of my student’s work without looking at the cover pages. I have always strived to remain impartial. Your essay was marked no differently,” He explains calmly, “I would be wrong to say that I don’t hold any affections for you-- it is quite the opposite. I enjoy the time we have spent together, and I would like to continue to remain in your company; I hope to eventually find myself in your affections-- but none of this has any bearing on your grade. I am sorry that I have acted in a way where this was not clear”. Her throat clenches, oh. “I’m sorry--Oh my god--I’m so stupid!” her hand flies to cover her mouth. “You have nothing to apologise for-- I should be the one apologising,” he insists. She shakes her head standing to stand in front of him, “We’ve both been obtuse”. “I’d like to make it up to you. I’d like to take you out for dinner-- a proper meal. If you’ll allow me”. She nods her hand coming to rest on his cheek, thumb running gently across his cheekbone, “I would like that,” she says quietly, her eyes glazing at his lips, “But only after the semester is done and I’ve graduated”. “If that is what you want,” he nods understanding. She can feel him leaning in, her eyes flickering up to his caramel eyes and back down to his lips, his hand rests on her hip, but he waits for her to close the gap between them.

Last day of the school year.

She waits by the door to the lecture hall as he speaks to his class. She listens to the back and forth of conversing ideas from the students, her heart beating faster every time Helmut speaks. It takes a while for everyone to leave when the class is over, but he does his best not to make her wait too long, gathering his things as quickly as possible, he makes his way over to her.

“Maybe I should’ve taken this course, the conversation was much more lively!” She laughs. “Your intelligent thoughts would have been wasted here, my dear” He smiles shutting the door behind him, “your class needed a brilliant mind in it”.

The summer goes by quickly. Fine dining, nights in. reading during rainstorms. Nights of soft romance, followed by nights of passion. Pasts shared. Futures envisioned. In his bed the night before the new school year she rolls over to lay almost on top of him, laughing when he lets out an oof. “Old man she teases,” earning a playful pinch on the thigh from him.

She glances at his nightstand, a copy of The Prince laying there.

“And what are your personal feelings about Machiavelli anyway? You never speak about your own thoughts”

“You're so clever,” he laughs, “but you're right”.

He sighs pulling her closer. he tries to focus on his hand running up and down her arm, how soft her sweater is under his fingertips. He takes a deep breath before speaking, “every time I read it, my opinions change,” he confesses, “there was a time when I was young and stupid; thought I was invincible that I agreed with a lot of his ideals. Then I grew older, fell in love--I thought him stupid and lonely. I experienced an incredible loss--”

She squeezes his side as she hears his voice grow tense with tears, he swallows and continues, “and then I thought I understood him. I learned how to grieve and I thought him intolerable. In the end I learn more about myself than I do him”.

She smiles, “and have you read it lately?”

He nods kissing her softly, “I have”.

“And?”

“I learned to trust my instincts. To take the risks that are worth taking”

“You're kind of a sap,” she laughs, her face getting warm she buries it in his chest. Part 1 here

#zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #professor!zemo #daniel bruhl x reader #zemo #daniel bruhl #baron zemo x reader

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supermarvelgirl15 · 3 years

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Delicate Type of Beauty- Chapter 3: Plumbing Problems

Summary: You have a problem with your plumbing, but luckily Bucky just happens to also be awake at 2 AM.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes × f!oc-insert

Word Count: 1,940

Warnings: A few curses, a couple negative thoughts

A/N: The verb endings are probably all over the place, but oh well. I hope y'all enjoy!

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

××××××

The footage didn’t make any sense. It didn’t necessarily show any indication to where he went, and you couldn’t understand why the footage would be erased in the first place. That was the only thing that made the whole situation stand out.

It just showed Colton waiting in his car until another vehicle approached him. Colt then got out of his car with a backpack on, took whatever the unknown driver handed him, and watched as the driver left. He looked over the item that was in hands and placed it in his pocket before walking out of frame without his car. Even Rhett said that he thought that it was strange.

You, however, weren’t going to let that stop you. With every resource you had, you were going to find out everything that happened in that video and where he went. You needed to know who the driver was and what they gave your brother.

You were sat on the floor in front of your coffee table looking through everything you had already acquired while you were waiting on one of your sources to grant you access to more footage from the security cameras at the docks. You were hoping that maybe you had overlooked something, but it wasn’t looking like it.

With a sigh you grabbed your phone to check the time, groaning when you saw that it was just after two in the morning. It was late, but you weren’t ready to turn in just yet. Standing up, you walked into your kitchen to wash your face off at the sink.

When you turn the sink on though, only a little water was coming out the faucet. Your eyebrows furrowed together as you squatted down to open the cabinets under the sink, cursing when you saw that the pipe had busted and that water started running everywhere.

You immediately ran to go get some towels, another curse slipping out of your mouth when you realized that you only had one. Why was today the day you forgot to pick up your laundry from down stairs?

You rushed back to the kitchen, placing the towel on the floor to try to mop up what you could of the water. It didn’t take long for the towel to get soaked and there was still a lot of water. What the hell were you going to do now?

Bucky just wanted to get at least a few hours of sleep. He would be happy with even as little as two or three hours. Was that too much to ask?

The nightmares- or rather memories- had been bad for the last week. The most sleep he’s gotten lately has been maybe about an hour at a time. A man, especially at his age, needed more rest than that. He was tired, damn it.

Knocking at his door shook him from his thoughts about rest, making him glance over at the clock. Who would be at his door at this time of night? He really didn’t want to deal with some jackass tonight.

He quietly stood up from the floor, slipping on a shirt over his head as he made his way towards the door. Looking through the peephole, he saw you standing outside glancing frantically around you.

Opening the door, he automatically hid his left side behind the door frame. “Kris? Everything okay?” He questioned you, his eyebrow furrowed as he looked you over.

“Um, yeah, did I wake you? I’m so sorry if I did,” you apologize as you wring your hands together in front of you. Some of the guilt is lifted from you as he shook his head, his eyes showing that he was concerned. Now you felt bad for worrying him with something as stupid as this.

You glanced down the hallway, hoping you didn’t wake up any of the other residents. “I’m sorry for bothering you, but you're the only person I know here and I can’t go to the basement now because you know how the landlord is. Is there by any chance that I could borrow some towels?” You rambled to him, cringing slightly about how idiotic you sounded. Why does talking to him make you act like this?

Bucky’s look of concern turned to one of confusion as he looked at you. “I… Uh, sure, hold on,” he tells you before walking away from the door to retrieve them. Seeing that he left the door wide open, you took that as an invitation to step inside.

His apartment looked similar to yours, even though he had less furniture than you. Your eyes caught onto the blankets and pillows on the floor, making you lick your lips nervously. Every time you came back from an operation, you often found yourself sleeping on the floor as well. Sleeping on a bed was significantly different from going to bed in a sleeping bag on the hard ground. Recently, you've been sleeping on the couch to slowly break yourself out of that routine.

Your attention goes back to Bucky when you hear him clear his throat, looking up to see him holding a few towels. “Is this enough?” He asked as you took the towels out of his hands.

He noticed how your eyes immediately went to his bare metal arm before looking back at him with a nod. If he didn’t see that, he would have completely forgot that it was made out of vibranium and not flesh and bone.

“I hope so. I haven’t exactly dealt with a flooded kitchen before,” you quip as you turn to head out his apartment. Bucky raised his eyebrows as he followed behind you.

“What happened to your kitchen?” Bucky questioned curiously as he held the door open for you. He really did find you in the strangest situations.

You stopped once you stepped back into the hallway, turning back to face him. “The pipe beneath my sink busted. I’m gonna spend the rest of my night figuring out how to fix it,” you sighed, internally groaning at the thought.

You watched as Bucky nodded somewhat to himself, as if he was having a silent conversation with himself in his head. You would have never guessed the next words that would leave his mouth.

“Do you need any help?”

★

When you said that your kitchen was flooded, you really did mean it. Bucky was hoping that maybe you were overexaggerating, but there was a lot of water on the floor. If you two didn’t clean it up fast enough, you might get a complaint from the downstairs neighbor.

“You know, I could talk to you in maybe five different languages, but I apparently couldn’t fix a dumb pipe even if I wanted to,” you joke as you mop up most of the water.

Bucky chuckled slightly as he looked over the sink. “Ei bine, ai putea începe prin a opri apa.” Well, you could start by turning the water off.

He turned the faucet off, turning to see you looking at the sink with your mouth hanging open, making him laugh a little. “Chiar sunt prost.” I really am dumb.

Bucky shakes his head, chuckling softly as he squatted down to look at the pipe. “It’s okay, everyone loses their common sense at times. But hey, at least you know Romanian,” he teases you, glancing back over his shoulder.

You narrow your eyes on him, throwing the soaked towel in your hand at him. Bucky yelps, quickly getting the towel off him as he looks up to see your smug look. “This is what I get for helping? I could’ve just left the water on, I’m sure the landlord would love it,” he threatened playfully.

“No, it’s what you get for being an ass,” you shrug, a small smirk creeping onto your lips as you grab another dry towel to hopefully get what’s left of the water. Bucky looks at you while you’re turned away from him, licking his lips before giving his attention back to the pipe.

After looking it over for a few moments, he finally figured out what the problem was. He reached his left hand in the cabinet, tightening the pipe where it had come loose. “All right, I think I got it,” he announced as he stood up to turn the sink on, nodding when no water started leaking out. “It was just loose,” he tells you, turning the water back off before turning to face you.

You throw your towel into the pile with the others, having cleaned the floor the best you could, before walking over to the sink beside Bucky. “You are a saint,” you comment as you look over what he had done.

You are a saint. Those words shouldn’t have affected Bucky like they just did, but how could you call him that. Especially when you know what he's done, what he’s capable of doing.

“I thought I was an ass?” Bucky questioned teasingly, raising an eyebrow at you. You shake your head, rolling your eyes as you turn back to pick up the wet towels.

“I’m gonna go put these in my bathroom. Once I wash them, I’ll give you back your towels,” you tell him as you walk back to what Bucky guesses is your bathroom.

Bucky grabs a rag from your sink to dry his hands before stepping into your living room. Files scattered on your coffee table catches his eye, causing him to look back to make sure you haven’t returned yet. He picked up one of them and scanned through it quickly.

So this is why you’re here.

“Thank you so much, Bucky. I’m sure you want to go to bed now,” you said as you walked back into the room. Bucky turns around smoothly, dropping the file back on the table behind him.

He licked his lips as he nodded. “Yeah,” he replied shortly, scratching the back of his neck. He started towards your door, you following right behind him. “Um, good night,” he tells you with one of his tightlipped smiles.

“Night. Thanks again,” you respond with a smile.

Bucky couldn’t help but feel somewhat normal while he was around you. You reminded him of his life back before the war. When it was just him, his family, and Steve against the world. He… liked it.

If you get too close to her, something bad’s gonna happen. It always does, Barnes. Keep her out of it.

Shut up.

“Everything okay, Bucky?”

He looked up to see you already looking at him, your eyes full of concern. He doesn’t understand why, but he’s come to slowly learn that’s how you are. Maybe his therapist is right. Maybe he should make a friend. Especially one like you.

“Uh, yeah... Hey, if you’re up for it, you wanna get some coffee tomorrow? Well, later,” Bucky asked you, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants.

To say you were surprised was an understatement. You never thought that he would actively want to hang out with you. He always seemed to want to be alone, and given what he’s been through, you don’t blame him.

Then your instincts started kicking in. It was a bad idea. You shouldn’t be around him more than you have to. It was dangerous. He was dangerous. You were even once sent after him with your team. He used to be one of your targets.

But as you watched him wait for your response, how he bit his lip, how he glanced around the hallway somewhat nervously, your instincts didn’t matter. After all, he wasn’t the Winter Soldier anymore, right?

“I’d love to.”

××××××

@bucky-bunnie @learisa @magconfangurl1 @lylthy @rosiahills22 (If you would like to be removed/added please let me know!)

#DToB #marvel #marvel imagines #bucky barnes × reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #winter soldier #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #sebastian stan #kay writes

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bamon4bamily · 5 years

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TVD 9x03 (part 3) Enjoy! =)

CAROLINE: Klaus? What…what are you doing here?

KLAUS: Is that a way to greet an old friend? And a very generous one may I add…

CAROLINE: Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting…

KLAUS: I know, love, and I do apologize for the unannounced visit; I tried calling but you seem to have changed your number.

CAROLINE: What brings you here?

KLAUS: A witch friend of mine told me about a rumor, I’m here to verify if it is in fact true. (Stefan walks to the door). And I see it is… I was really hoping that it wasn’t…

KLAUS: Stefan… back amongst the living.

STEFAN: Seems so… What do you want?

KLAUS: No need for the hostility, old friend, I’m just here to help.

STEFAN: We don’t need your help.

KLAUS: Are you really so naive? Do you honestly think people can just come back from the dead without any consequences? Where is Bonnie?

STEFAN: Just stay out of this…

KLAUS: I understand that you are a human now, and probably very confused at the moment, but if you want to have a fighting chance at was is to come, you need to lose the arrogance, old friend.

CAROLINE: (To Stefan) Let’s hear him out, maybe he can help.

STEFAN: Fine.

CAROLINE: Come in, I’ll go get Bonnie (leaves, Klaus sits on the living room couch).

KLAUS: Care to offer a friend a bourbon?

STEFAN: It’s like 11am…

KLAUS: Your point?

STEFAN: Nevermind.

KLAUS: So, tell me, Stefan, how does it feel to be back?

STEFAN: (As he’s serving him the drink) Gotta say, feels pretty good.

KLAUS: I can only imagine... but are you prepared for the repercussions?

STEFAN: Anything is better than being dead.

KLAUS: Oh, believe me, it’s not…

Bonnie, Damon, Caroline, and Alaric walk in.

KLAUS: Bonnie Bennett, as I live and breathe. (Checks her out) Aren't you a sight for sore eyes.

BONNIE: Klaus, why are you here? What do you want?

KLAUS: Your coldness breaks my un-beating heart, Bonnie. As much as you may resist to believe me, I am here to help you.

BONNIE: I don’t need or want your help.

KLAUS: (To Stefan) Maybe you two have more in common than you think… Listen Bonnie, I heard from a very close friend of mine about you, the linking spell, the source… I can help you.

BONNIE: Why should I believe you?

KLAUS: It might not seem like it, I know we have had our differences in the past, but I care about you… all witches to be exact, but you, Bonnie, you are special.

DAMON: Enough with the flatteries, start talking before I…

KLAUS: Damon, I see some things never change. You really need to work on your patience. (To Bonnie) I reckon you met Darius?

BONNIE: You know him?

KLAUS: Not in person, but he is quite the legend. Back in the day, there used to be many stories about him, and the Bennion coven… everyone thought it was just a myth but as it turns out, it’s not.

ALARIC: How do you know this? There is no documentation on the Bennions, trust me, I’ve done my research.

KLAUS: Well, the witch friend I’m talking about is actually a descendant of the Bennion coven, her real name is Aelish Bennion, ring a bell?

BONNIE: She’s Darius sister. He told me about her, accidentally drowned when she was like 20 something…

KLAUS: Oh, she most definitely did not drown, and it was no accident… but yes, she is his sister. Vanished by her coven after her brother set her up, stole her immortality serum and tried to kill her. Little did he know that Aelish doesn’t make anything unless she tries it out herself.

BONNIE: So, she is also immortal… (sarcastically) great.

KLAUS: She is. After her brother left her for dead she ran as far away as she could, changed her name, got some indie witches to psych-block her mind so her brother could not sense her. Eventually, she befriended a group of witches from New Orleans and settled down there under the name of Danae LeBeau.

DAMON: Stop with the tales from the witch and get to the point.

KLAUS: The point, Damon, is that Bonnie has fulfilled a prophecy, or part of it anyway, and now she has the power to destroy the world, and much more than that… so, we need to make sure that she doesn’t.

BONNIE: I would never do that.

KLAUS: Maye not on purpose, love, but you won’t have much of a saying if you can’t control it. Power can be very overwhelming, you know that well Bonnie, sometimes we do things just to prove that we can, especially when we are angry, or hurt…

BONNIE: Might be so, but like I said, I would never do that.

KLAUS: You are different now Bonnie, you don’t know yourself well enough to ensure it’s not a possibility.

DAMON: (Lashes out at him) Don’t pretend to know anything about her.

KLAUS: For god’s sake Damon, calm yourself! All I’m saying is that we are not safe, Bonnie is not safe… and, like or not, it’s something that needs to be dealt with.

ALARIC: Everyone, just relax. We will figure this out, together. We are not going to get anywhere if we fight each other.

The door opens, Matt, Khuyana, and Tyler come in…

KLAUS: (Looking at Tyler) This just keeps getting worse by the minute…

CAROLINE: Tyler!! Oh my god!!!! (Runs to hug him).

TYLER: Care… (hugs her, then turns to Bonnie). Bonnie… I…

BONNIE: I’m so glad you are back, we missed you.

TYLER: Thank you (hugs her). You have no idea how much I….

BONNIE: I know… I’m just happy you made it back.

TYLER: (To Stefan) Stefan… (they shake hands, then looks at Damon, rolls his eyes). Damon…

DAMON: Zombie-wolf...

TYLER: (Looks at Klaus) Great… what the hell is he doing here?

KLAUS: I could ask the same question. Relax, Tyler, I’m on your side… at least for now…

MATT: Can someone please explain to me what the hell is going on?!

STEFAN: You know what, who cares what time it is? I need a drink. (Serves himself a drink).

KLAUS: Now that’s the Stefan I used to know… Cheers, old friends, we are in for quite a ride!

They all sit down and talk…

Cut to- a freaky old mansion library, Darius and a strange man are talking.

MAN: So, we are moving to plan B I presume? He will not be happy…

DARIUS: I know, but we don’t have a choice. If we want to reach our end goal, we are going to have to improvise… look on the bright side, the most groundbreaking scientific discoveries resulted from mistakes.

MAN: He doesn’t like mistakes… nor does he share your sense of humor.

DARIUS: Just let me do my job, it doesn’t matter how we get it done as long as it’s done.

MAN: What about the witch?

DARIUS: Her name is Bonnie, don’t ever generalize her.

MAN: Touchy, aren’t we? You actually care for her, how sweet. Careful, Darius, we wouldn’t want your emotions getting in the way… Anyway, he needs to be informed about this change of plan immediately, care to do the honors?

DARIUS: I will let him know.

MAN: Good luck with that.

Cut back to -Salvatore mansion living room, some hours later.

ALARIC: So, that’s the plan, agreed? (They all nod).

CAROLINE: Bonnie and I will head to Whitmore and put Elena up to date. Oh, and I don’t care if it’s inappropriate or bad timing, but we are having our Night of the Living Dead reunion/Halloween party! So, remember your duties people, you have a week!

KLAUS: I already have my costume idea, love.

DAMON: Who said you were invited?

CAROLINE: He is Damon, so be nice; he’s trying to help us.

KLAUS: Well, I must be on my way now, Danae and I will be staying at my families’ mansion for the time being. Trust that I will keep my end of the deal as long as you keep yours.

ALARIC: We will. (Klaus leaves).

MATT: We’ll be heading out too; keep us posted. (As they are walking out) Ty, can you take Khuyana home? I have to make a quick stop then I’ll meet up with you back at the house.

TYLER: Sure, no problem.

Klaus, Matt, Khuyana, and Tyler leave.

ALARIC: (To Caroline and Bonnie) Are sure you don’t want one of us to go with you?

CAROLINE: No, we’ll be fine; it’s a girls’ trip.

DAMON: Stefan and I will keep an eye on our prisoner and catch up on some bro time.

ALARIC: I’ll be in my office doing more research, let me know if you need anything.

BONNIE: Ready Care?

CAROLINE: Just let me grab some stuff and we’ll head out.

Cut to – Whitmore College, Elena’s dorm. Elena and Sam are talking in bed.

SAM: So, what do you say? This is a one in a lifetime opportunity...

ELENA: I know… but it’s such a huge change, and a scary one if I’m being honest.

SAM: Change is always scary but it’s necessary. Elena, you have never lived more than 3 hours away from your home town, there is so much more to see in this world. And, beyond exploring a whole new life, if you really are serious about perusing a medical career, there is no way you can pass on something like this.

ELENA: Germany, ha? Well, I do like beer… but what about Jeremy? I just can’t leave him…

SAM: Jeremy is all grown-up and has his own life… he doesn’t need a baby sitter anymore.

ELENA: That’s true…

SAM: So, that’s a yes?

ELENA: Well… (with awful pronunciation) Ja, Ja! Prost!

SAM: Trust me, you won’t regret it. We’ll work on your language skills later…

ELENA: (Elena’s cell rings, it’s Bonnie) Bonnie!! Hey, I’m so glad you called!! Sorry I had to leave so soon… how are you?

BONNIE: I’m fine, but I would be better if you opened your door…

ELENA: Wait, what? (To Sam, blocking the speaker on her phone) Oh my god, quick, get up, put some clothes on! (She rushes up and puts on the first thing she can find).

SAM: I’m guessing you haven’t told her?

ELENA: No, not yet, it’s been crazy, haven’t found the right timing...Just please, act it out for now... (kisses him, tries to compose herself, then opens the door, Care and Bonnie are on the other side).

CARE & BONNIE: Surprise!!!

ELENA: (Nervous and excited at the same time) Oh my god!!!! (They hug) What...what are you doing here?! Not that I’m not happy, I just wasn’t expecting...

CAROLINE: (Smirking and glancing at Sam) I can see that... and this is?

ELENA: Oh yes, guys... this is Sam, the friend I told you about. We were just studying...

BONNIE: (Mocking) Human Anatomy?

ELENA: (Nervous laugh) No, no... Ahm Sam, this is Bonnie and Caroline...

SAM: It’s great to finally meet you! Elena talks about you all the time.

CAROLINE: It’s great to meet you too. Elena talks about you all the time too, except she forgot to mention how hot you are! (Gives Elena a wink).

ELENA: (Embarrassed) Care…

BONNIE: So, you are the famous Sam? Elena says you are a medical genius…

SAM: Nah, I’m just a book geek is all.

ELENA: Don’t be stubborn, he is most definitely a genius.

SAM: Listen, ladies, I’d love to stay but I have rounds at the Hospital. Want to meet up later for drinks?

ELENA: Sure, I’ll text you.

SAM: Done, see you later (Sam goes in for a kiss on the lips then remembers, plants an awkward cheek kiss instead and leaves).

ELENA: So, to what do I owe this pleasure?

CAROLINE: Oh, don’t you dare try to deviate from the fact... care to fill us in?

ELENA: It’s not what it seems we are just friends...

BONNIE: Sure, “just” friends...

ELENA: We are, I swear! But really, why are you guys here? Is everything O.K?

CAROLINE: Oh, Elena, you are in for quite a ride… let’s hit the bar!

ELENA: I have a class… but what the hell! It’s not every day I get a surprise visit from my besties. Let me grab my jacket.

CAROLINE: You should probably put on a bra too... this is not the sixties. (Bonnie giver her an elbow jab) Just saying...

Cut to – the Salvatore mansion. Damon and Stefan still in the living room, having a drink.

STEFAN: Really? You’re just going to keep avoiding the conversation?

DAMON: What conversation Stefan? Are you drunk already? You really need to work on your tolerance.

STEFAN: Fine… Dodge the bullet, again. I’ll get it out of you, eventually… (Damon hears noises coming from upstairs).

DAMON: I think we need to go check on our roomie, escape attempt number six seems to be taking place.

STEFAN: We have to give her some credit, she is persistent…

DAMON: That she is… (they run upstairs to check on Katherine).

Cut to- Alaric researching in his study, Radka comes in, kissed him)

RADKA: So, how is everything going? Found anything else?

ALARIC: Not yet, I’m having a hard time cracking this one (shows her an old book) … any insights?

RADKA: It seems to be written in some sort of code… looks very similar to a scripture I researched a while back from an ancient cult called The Liberatus…

ALARIC: I’ve read about them… they make The Illuminati seem sane. Do you think this could be related? That’s insane, right?

RADKA: First rule in research is never to eliminate a theory, no matter how crazy it may seem, until you have the facts to prove otherwise.

ALARIC: Have I told you how much I love you?

RADKA: Not today… (he pulls in her face for a kiss). Listen, everything is ready for the student’s memorial tomorrow, I know there is a lot going on, but this is important too.

ALARIC: I know, don’t worry, I’ll make sure everyone attends.

RADKA: Good. I have to go back to my classes now, love you (gives him a kiss, then leaves).

Cut to – Whitmore College bar.

ELENA: Bottoms up! (Takes a shot).

BONNIE: I know this is hard to digest but…

ELENA: Stefan… (takes another shot) … Tyler… (another shot) … Lexie… (one more) … Katherine… (two at the same time) …

CAROLINE: O.k, just slow it down a bit…

ELENA: I mean, I’m happy they are back, except for that bitch double of mine... how many lives does she have?!... But I am happy… I just can’t deal with these types of things anymore! Is this really going to be the rest of my life? Supernatural craziness? People dying and coming back, spells, fangs, immortals, psychics, and witchy-woo... I’m human now, finally have some normal in my life... these things… (takes another shot) I just can’t… (burps) Oops, I need to pee… (stumbles out of her chair).

BONNIE: I’ll come with…

ELENA: Bon-Bon in the house! I love you, you know that, right? (Grabs her by her jaw and kisses her on the cheek).

BONNIE: And I love you too, come (takes her by the arm). When we come back we’ll order you some food and coffee.

ELENA: Nop, I’m good… only thing I need is more shots after I get these ones out of my system… and a new life…

BONNIE: Elena, look at me, are you O.k? What’s going on?

ELENA: I’m fine…I’m fine, fine, fine… I just want out… need out… quick, run, I’m about to pee myself!

After a while, Caroline meets up with Bonnie in the bathroom to check up on them.

CAROLINE: Is she O.K?

BONNIE: She’s fine…

CAROLINE: What’s going on with her?

BONNIE: I think she’s done with the mayhem… just wants a normal life, I guess… can you blame her?

CAROLINE: Elena is anything but normal, why would she want out?

BONNIE: Maybe she needs some stability, Care. No vampires, witches, werewolves, zombies, you know? A simple kind of life… I’d give anything to be able to have that...

CAROLINE: Bonnie, come on, look at me in the eyes and tell me you don’t love our life. I know it’s insane, but it’s us…

BONNIE: Yeah, I admit it…despite it all, I actually kind of love it. But Elena, although bat-shit crazy, just wants some normal in her life, and as her best friends, we need to help her find it.

CAROLINE: Fine! I hate that you are always right! But how do we help her?

BONNIE: By leaving her out of all of this… no more supernatural drama. We abort mission and don’t tell her about the plan. (Caroline nods in agreement, Elena comes out of the bathroom).

ELENA: Ok, much better now! Ready for another round!

Cut to - The Salvatore mansion, Damon and Stefan in Katherine’s room.

KATHERINE: When are you going to let me go? I mean, really, how long has it been? It’s flattering and all, but your obsession with me borders on pathological.

STEFAN: Oh please Katherine… did death make you more delusional?

KATHERINE: Then why are you still keeping me here? I told you all I wanted was a good night’s sleep, then I would be on my way with no hard feelings, I swear.

DAMON: We know better than to trust you, Kitty Kat…

KATHERINE: Come on, we all made our fair share of horrible things… how come you get a second chance, but I don’t?

STEFAN: Neither of us tried to burn an entire town with hellfire…

KATHERINE: True… but you did murder an entire town, and much more savagely, may I add, so... And you (referring to Damon), besides the countless bodies, murdered a pregnant woman… how is that any better than what I ever did…

STEFAN: (To Damon) Hate to admit it but she has point.

KATHERINE: All I’m asking you is to either let me go or give me a second chance…

STEFAN: More like a billionth chance but I’ll bite; if you really have changed or at least want to, then stay and help us… no foul play…

DAMON: Um Stefan, what are you doing? Have you gone A-wall? You do know who this person is, right?

STEFAN: I do, but you know better than anyone that redemption is possible if people believe in you… So, I say we risk it and give her shot.

KATHERINE: See why he’s the good one, Damon? Fine, I’ll stay and help, no sneaky plan, I swear. But, promise you won’t keep me under lock and key… it’s no way to live.

STEFAN: You have a deal (they shake hands).

DAMON: Stefan! Really, we are making deals with she-devils, now?

STEFAN: We are taking a leap of faith, Damon. You’d be surprised how enriching that can be…

DAMON: Caroline is going to kill you…

STEFAN: I’m sure she’ll understand.

DAMON: Oh trust me, she won’t.

STEFAN: Then that will be my problem to deal with.

DAMON: O.k, I’ll entertain this bit of mad, but how exactly is she going to help us?

STEFAN: You’ll know it when the times comes…

KATHERINE: Well, now that we are friends...

STEFAN: Oh, we are definitely not friends.

KATHERINE: O.k, allies, or whatever you want to call it... but can I please get some food? I’m starving!

STEFAN: Sure, come on, let’s see what’s in the fridge.

DAMON: Stefan! (As they are walking out Katherine turns around gives him a wink).

Cut to -Whitmore college bar.

ELENA: Stefan… what a great guy! Care, promise you will never let him go… N-E-V-E… Oh my god! And that birthmark!! (Hits Caroline with her elbow, wiggles her eyebrows) am I right?

(Caroline and Bonnie look at each other, Elena is getting awkward, bordering on inappropriate)

CAROLINE: Okay then… here, have some water.

ELENA: Don’t want water… (to the waiter) more shots, please! And keep them coming!

BONNIE: Come on Elena, you are gonna get sick and regret these decisions in the morning…

ELENA: Bonnie… the almighty witch!

BONNIE: Hey, watch it! You might be drunk but that won’t stop me from smacking you down.

ELENA: I’m sorry, I’m being an ass…

BONNIE: You are. What’s wrong with you? We thought you would be happy to know some old friends are back…

ELENA: I am! So happy! Just having an existenial (meaning existential) crisis… I’m really sorry you guys, I don’t know what’s gotten into me…

BONNIE: You can tell us anything, Elena, what’s going on?

ELENA: I have the best reasons to stay… but I think I should go… and I’m terrified because I’m a wuss, a small-town girl who thinks she’s all that because she moved 3 hours away from home to go to “medical school” … God, I’m pathetic!

CAROLINE: You are not pathetic and there is nothing wrong with being a small-town girl…

ELENA: (Starts singing) Small-town girl, she’s been living in her small-town world…

CAROLINE: That’s not how the song goes, but anyway… Elena, talk to us…

ELENA: I’m moving to Munich... Prost! (Takes another shot)

CAROLINE: Elena... come on, we are being serious.

ELENA: You see? Not even my best friends believe I’m capable of living anywhere outside my comfort zone.

BONNIE: O.k, I’m gonna be harsh but it’s only because I love you. Stop with the whining, self-loathing and flat out teenage outbreak. Sober up, figure out what you want and go for it. If you want to move to Munich, or where ever, do it, no hesitations, no regrets. And if you are with Sam and don’t want to tell us cause you think we will judge you... I really am gonna slap you!

ELENA: Thank you! That’s why I love you! You don’t take anyone’s crap, always call them out on their shit! That’s why Damon loves you too... so much! He L-O-V-E-S you... you know that, right? (Whispering to herself) It’s so freaking obvious... God forbid anyone messes with his precious Bonnie...

CAROLINE: (Trying to deviate from a very uncomfortable situation) O.k, definitely time to leave.

ELENA: But Sam’s meeting up with us here…

CAROLINE: Just text him that we’ll raincheck, o.k? Actually (takes her phone) let me do it, we don’t want you drunk texting something you will regret in the morning... you’ve done your fair share of babbling for one tonight.

ELENA: O.k, but only cause I love you guys, otherwise I’d be all up on that! (They grab Elena and take her back to her dorm).

Cut to – freaky old mansion library. Darius is sitting on a couch having a gin and reading what seems to be a really old book, the door opens… Matt enters.

DARIUS: Sheriff Donovan, I’ve been expecting you…

To be continued...

TVD 9x04 coming soon!!! Hope you stop by, read and enjoy! =)

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damn-daemon · 5 years

Text

My Unposted Star Wars Story 2

So @marvelousthronewars wants to read more, and who am I to deny her? Also anyone else who wants to read it. Part one is here.

Dantooine had never been known for inclement weather. The monotony of its climate was what made its gently rolling hills a prime choice for a variety of crops. Even so, it was sparsely populated. Not many were comfortable being so far from the galactic core.

It was what had made it so perfect for the Jedi to begin anew.

But on the day she left, it rained, hard. Wind would whip across the open fields with a vengeance, dragging anything not tied down with it. Lightning would streak across the sky, providing the only light source for miles as power was cut to various households. Though at the time, it had not looked that way. The day was dark, cool, but hardly anything threatening.

After all these years, she found it sickly poetic.

Her father and Chewbacca had already entered the Falcon, waiting as long as they needed to for her to finally say goodbye.

Ben stood at the base of the ramp, making sure not to actually set foot on it. Back then she had thought he was tempted to join her as well. Maybe if he had…

She stood a few steps up, finally at eye level with her monstrously tall brother.

“You don’t hate me, do you?”

He had cracked a smile then, as crooked as their father’s. “Why would I hate you?”

“I’m leaving you.”

“I can’t hold you back forever.”

Elara had stepped back down then. Even at eighteen, he made her feel so much younger when she stood toe to toe with him. “You could still come with. Dad’s terrible at this, but I know he misses you too.”

He was quiet then, contemplative. “And what would I do out there, El?”

She opened her mouth to say something, but the words never came. The wind picked up and stole them away. The rain started its downpour, but Ben never moved, watching her with a look he’d never give anyone else. She’d hugged him then, unafraid to admit the rain was covering her tears.

When she finally let go, her clothes peeled off from his, sticky and red. Elara looked down at her robes and hands, shaking. The rain had stopped, the wind stilled, leaving nothing but a deathly calm.

She looked up to an empty space where her brother once was.

And in the distance, a fire burning brightly…

. . .

Hosnian Prime

Elara opened her eyes slowly, taking in the red numbers on her nightstand that told her she had gone to bed maybe two hours earlier. She stared at them, watching as they slowly ticked another minute gone. The hum of the ventilation was oddly calming.

She thought to close her eyes again. There were still plenty of hours left in the early morning before she had to be in the office, but Elara knew that even if sleep came, it would be more of the same.

When she’d first had the dream, she had woken up screaming in the dead of night until her father had burst into the room, blaster at the ready. He had held her as she hit him, hugged him, and cried into his shirt. She had said nothing to him as she felt his tears trickle onto the top of her head.

It had been some time since she’d had the dream. Most nights, she worked herself into an exhaustion that allowed no room for dreams to plague her sleep. It was easy to avoid talking about it when her job demanded she do so anyway. She supposed being on the losing end of a battle had some benefits.

Tonight had been no different, or so she thought. It was because her mother had shown up, she told herself, or…Poe.

That was a memory she had not expected to see again. His happy recounting of their childhood had been as wonderful as it was painful.

With a sigh, Elara rolled out of bed. Her bare feet trekked across the cold floor, willing the rest of her body to wake up. She hit the nearby control panel, watching as her windowpane cleared and revealed the ever-present lights of Republic City. As numerous as the stars, she had told herself when she first saw it years ago. Air speeders, constantly on the move and never seeming to land, zipped by her window, unaware of her scrutiny. So many individuals, unaware of what was happening in the galaxy around them, or perhaps too aware.

And what would I do out there, El?

Elara took a breath, balling up her hands as they began to shake. That was a question she still had no answer to. Ben had been a boy with too many gifts, and no place to properly use them. Sometimes, even Luke had no idea why he was able to do the things he could. It had left her brother confused, and over the years, his confusion had turned to frustration and anger.

But she had never expected him to…

No. That was not a road she was ready to head down again.

As if able to sense her distress, the door to her bedroom opened, revealing a green-tinted protocol droid. TC-23, a gift from Kaid near the start of her senatorial career because of her family’s apparent love for ‘all technological things outdated,’ meandered into the room, her joints making that all too familiar whir that she had come to associate with her kind. Elara had thought about fixing it once, not that protocol droids needed subtlety, but silence was nice every now and again.

“I hope I have not disturbed you, Mistress Elara,” a hollow, feminine voice spoke. It was a rare variety, one she had no doubt Kaid sought on purpose.

“No, Two-three, I was already up,” Elara replied, turning to the droid. “What is it?”

“A priority message for you, regarding Senator Prost.”

Terra Rise Apartments Business District Republic City

It was a part of town she hardly visited, an upper scale district where export businesses kept their offices. This was where most of the high rises were, striking at the atmosphere as if it were a challenge. Money was no issue, as most buildings were intricately decorated with carvings and other unnecessary adornments. Even as a senator, the current apartment complex she was standing in was still far out of reach of her budget. Its lobby alone cost more than entire colonies.

If there were a place more corrupt than the Senate, it would be here.

It seemed appropriate for Prost, who had, of course, been granted house arrest during the course of the investigation. Then again, it was usually standard for any senator, but the thought of tossing him into prison for even one night entertained her.

Security officers and droids were crawling all over the lobby when she entered, filling the air with a variety of beeps and languages, most too frantic for her to make out. There were a few of the evening staff huddled in the corner being questioned by one of the officers, but otherwise Elara was the only civilian present. Despite that, no one seemed to pay her much attention.

Elara took a breath, closing her eyes and clearing her mind. The din smoothed and slowed, allowing her mind to navigate its way across the conversations, picking and choosing dialogues at will.

“…turned off of course. Cameras are never…”

“…nothing I’ve ever seen before. Jaren got sick in the hall…”

“…had this coming. You hear the news the other night?”

A hand clasped her shoulder and Elara felt her senses return to normal. Looking over, she found Kaid staring down at her, still wearing his robes from their last session. It seemed no one liked to sleep in the city.

“They called you too?” She watched him nod. “Any idea what’s going on?”

“Nothing good.”

Elara rolled her eyes. “Useful as always, Kaid.”

They stood there in amenable silence for a few minutes, watching the chaos around them and attempting to piece it all together. Even with her abilities, it was hard to say what they were talking about. Clearly a gag order had been placed, something incredibly hush hush. Given where they were, it was surprising that there had been no media presence outside.

She had a bad feeling about this.

After nearly half an hour, one of the turbolifts opened and an officer roughly ten years older than the others stepped out. The man in charge, she guessed. He walked with an air of authority, head held high, but even so, he seemed pale to her, as if whatever awaited them upstairs was something even a veteran could not quite imagine.

“Senator Organa, I am Chief Investigator Ralway,” he bowed, accent thick from a life of smoking. “I apologize for the late hour, but there is a situation in the building that requires your attention.”

“My attention?” Elara asked, stepping back. She could feel Kaid’s eyes boring into her, which only made her wrap the light jacket she had grabbed tighter. “I barely fly through this district, much less conduct any business in it.”

Ralway sighed, some color returning to his cheeks. “I can’t explain it here and…it would be better to show you anyway.”

He briefly looked over at Kaid, eyes narrowing before he nodded and pointed them forward. The three entered the turbolift he had just exited, the only one working it seemed, and began to ascend.

It was quiet again, though far less comfortable. Elara watched the inspector, who had taken out a datapad and was furiously typing away on it. The hand that held it was shaking, she noted.

Briefly, she glanced up at Kaid, whose gaze was also focused on the datapad. There was a seriousness in his dark eyes she had not seen before. It only added to the terrible feeling in her gut.

“Chief Ralway,” she started, softly so as to not spook him, yet she thought he jumped anyway. “What use could your investigation have for a senator?”

The shaking stopped as he snorted. “If I needed a senator, I’d have called a dimwit I can’t stand, purely for the pleasure of forcing them out of their fancy beds.”

Elara cracked a small smile at that as Ralway took a breath.

“No, I need a Skywalker.”

The air grew thick, the only sound her sharp intake of breath and the quiet whir of the lift in transit. Even Kaid knew better than to comment on anything like this.

Ralway cleared his throat. “I served in the Rebellion, under your uncle’s command a few times. He was an excellent pilot, and a skilled fighter too. We all looked up to him, him and that…”

He trailed off, but did not seem to notice. Elara looked back to him, watching the color drain from his face once more. She closed her eyes, calming her fraying nerves. The Force was whispering things to her, but she willed the words away. She did not like what it had to say.

When the turbolift came to a halt, Ralway stepped through the threshold into the darkened hallway. Emergency lights had been activated, providing bright light every few feet, but what they could not reach fell starkly black, giving the complex an abandoned feel, despite being one of the most populous places in the area. Elara wondered where the residents had gone.

Medical technicians made their way through the wide hall, pushing two gurneys. Kaid pulled her aside, standing still as they passed. Black tarps gave little indication as to what lay beneath, but Elara got the distinct impression that something was watching them.

“Was there a fight?” Kaid called out to Ralway, who had yet to stop. The dark uniform of the Hosnian Security Force allowed him to briefly disappear until he reemerged in the glow of another light. “What happened here?”

He did not answer.

They continued to follow, suddenly alone in the partial darkness. No tenants stood outside their apartments, no noises came from within. The security officers were nowhere to be found, neither keeping guard nor rounding up evidence. There weren’t even any droids.

Ralway stood just outside the door, purposely out of its sight, she guessed. The strangest look had come across his face, fear and forlorn, a feeling of…repetition.

Elara blinked at the impression the Force gave her. She felt at the edge of a cliff, and the doorway was the drop; she did not have to enter, she told herself, but even as she saw the warning in the chief’s eyes, Elara felt her body turning into the room. She never had been good at running from the inevitable.

Two lights had been set inside the apartment, powered by their own generators. Had it not been for the activated windowpanes, Elara would have had no idea how large the space was. It must have been the size of half the building, but the lights were focused on only one spot.

The wall directly across from the door was enveloped in the light, glowing a faint yellow except for its very center. A thick slash through the wall had blackened the material, melting what it could, burning what it could not. A thin trail of smoke still rose from it, and wires sparked deep inside, some feet away from the wall.

A deep cold passed over Elara, blackness that threatened to drown her.

The dark side.

She let the feeling slip over her head. It stung, much like diving into a freezing lake, but there was something she needed to search for. In the few moments it took Kaid to enter the room, Elara had sifted through the pain and anger that clung to the air like residue, the festering wound far more deadly than any of the physical ailments. A familiarity was there, too strong to be anything but.

Her brother had been here.

“There weren’t two bodies,” Kaid whispered somewhere to her right.

“No,” was the confirmation from behind.

Elara stepped forward, paying little mind to the crime scene. The closer she got to the wall, the greater the pressure it put on her. She thought her ears popped, or that the jagged cut was pulsing somehow. It hummed in her ears and chest, drowning out whatever may have been happening behind her.

She reached out to touch the mark.

An image flashed through her mind, so sudden and rage-filled that she had to physically step back, wincing.

Kaid was at her side in an instant, putting his arm around her shoulder, carefully whispering. “What is it?”

“I don’t know,” Elara replied. She did, but there were some secrets that had to be kept.

There had been a lightsaber, held together by sheer force of will, chaotic, unruly, perfect for its master.

Perfect for Ben.

Her hand wandered near the mark again, carefully tracing its length.

Was this why I dreamed of you?

“You know the weapon that made that mark,” Ralway spoke, still drawing no closer to her. “I only ever knew one man who wielded a lightsaber. Tell me, Senator Organa, do you know another?”

New Republic Senatorial Complex

Kaid had been pacing for nearly ten minutes. And Elara had watched him the whole time, carefully keeping her face neutral as he went on a tirade in front of her desk. On the inside, she was screaming, and desperately wanted to be alone. But there was always something she had to put in front of her own needs. This morning, it was Kaid.

“This is a declaration of war!” he shouted, face flushed and sweating. More than once she had seen him reach for a holstered weapon he’d not had for over a decade. “Doing their own damn business in the Unknown Regions is one thing, but openly attacking one of our own? They’ve grown bold if they think they can do so without consequence.”

“Except he’s not one of our own,” Elara replied, speaking for the first time in hours. She’d let Kaid dodge the investigator’s questions for her, going on about some legal processes she did not bother paying attention to. “At best, he’s been accused of racketeering, at worst he’s been labeled a First Order conspirator, you and I both made sure of that. Now if you go out there touting him like some sort of martyr, we’ll look like fools. Not to mention warmongers.”

That seemed to slow the older senator. He no longer paced, instead letting his legs carry him to her model of the Falcon; he stared intently at the pieces, as if he knew the ship as well as her.

“This isn’t the Rebellion, I know,” he said, placing his hands on the display table, his back to her. “Things were simpler then, in theory at least. See that flag? It’s evil, go shoot at whoever’s holding it. Rattle the cage now and it only makes you the enemy. Why save yourself when a false sense of security is far more comfortable?”

Elara felt her lips quirk, out of instinct if anything. “Don’t brood too hard, Kaid. I might mistake you for a sensible person.”

He snorted, but it shook him from whatever place he had gone to. Turning, he gave a quick nod. “Since you’re clearly the more levelheaded senator here, what do you suggest?”

She wanted to laugh. If there was one thing she would never figure out about herself, it was how she could stay so calm on the outside when all she wanted to do was rip everything from its hinges.

Instead, Elara stood, grabbing the small component that sat on her desk. It was an old piece of the Falcon’s hyperdrive, broken off during one of her father’s infamous improvised repairs, ones that she had insisted were wrong, while he had assured her he was right on the grounds of ‘I’m your father.’ They’d wound up floating helplessly in space for nearly four hours after it overheated and blew, until Chewbacca tracked them down. In the meantime, Han discovered his daughter was a champion when it came to Dejarik.

She’d had the piece ever since then, a sort of ‘I told you so,’ as well as something to help her think. Tinkering was a way to center her mind, a focus for all her abstract thoughts. Normally she preferred to be in actual ships with a variety of components to get her hands messy on, but this one did the trick in a pinch.

As her fingers moved over the surface, ridges starting to smooth from years of use, she began to picture a scenario in her head. At the unfortunate center sat herself…and Ben. But she struggled past that, if only for company’s sake, and took a look at the bigger picture. It wasn’t any prettier.

“You’re right on one account: they are bold.” Elara turned to the window, taking in the first distant rays of the morning sun. She wondered how much longer this image of calm would last. “They’ve been patient all these years, not one slip up, no rumors that weren’t beyond their control…”

“Until now,” Kaid added. He sounded closer.

“No,” Elara replied, shaking her head. “They could have covered this up. Poison. Robbery. The possibilities are endless. This was a message, a statement.”

“And what is it saying?”

“That we’re out of time.”

The silence between them became palpable as they felt the burden rest on their shoulders, the knowledge of what was to come, and that they had failed to suppress it.

She really needed to be alone.

“Focus on the Resistance,” Elara said with a sigh. “Get them as much support as you can. That’s the front line now.”

Kaid was never one for taking orders from her. It spoke volumes about the situation when all he did was nod in agreement and take his leave. Elara watched the space he had occupied for a moment before collapsing into her chair.

Relaxing into the small cushions, she allowed her mind to finally run rampant with all the thoughts she had desperately walled away.

Ben. Her brother. He had been in the same system as her, and she never knew. Growing up, he could never hide from her, no matter how far he ran or how hard he tried to mask his presence in the Force. They’d had a bond, stronger than most, able to communicate freely and with ease through the Force. Distracting one another during teachings had been commonplace in their youth, and when they grew older, it was easier to comfort one another without prying ears or damaging the frail pride of a teenaged boy.

It was how she had known about the fate of Dantooine. The anger and pain and sorrow were so powerful, they overwhelmed her nearly to the point of unconsciousness, and that had been from halfway across the galaxy.

Now there was nothing.

Not that she had been looking.

Still, he was stronger, which was a terrifying thought in itself. She was, as their uncle had put it, remarkably gifted in the Force. Techniques that should have taken years to master took her mere months, when she felt like focusing on them. That said, she’d had all the restraint of a Mynock on spice. ‘The Force is not a toy’ was a common phrase in the household.

But for all her talent, next to Ben she had always felt insignificant. The Force pooled around him, attracted, and he had spent years simply getting that feeling under control. If he was not calm, the sheer force of his own aura left others feeling uneasy, even sick. It had made him a loner, and not by choice.

To think that he had not only controlled that power, but found a way to successfully channel it left Elara cold, and brought an old fear to the forefront of her mind.

She blew out a breath, watching several stray hairs float in front of her face. Placing the component on her desk, Elara stood slowly, readjusting her clothes and cleaning up her face as best as she could. Then, with a shaking hand, she reached out to the console on her desk, typing in the familiar code giving her access to a secure channel and direct line to the person who needed this information the most.

Her mother.

The wait alone almost made her disconnect as she thought of all the possible directions their conversation would take. She never used to think so hard about these things.

There was a beep, and suddenly Elara was staring at a holo of her mother. Just tall enough to have them face to face, Leia’s smaller figure might have been a funny thing to see, except for the way she carried herself. That famous princess turned general bearing. It commanded without her having to say a word.

But to Elara, she was just mom, even now, thousands of lightyears away, as she commanded some renegade army.

Moments like these reminded Elara of how truly messed up her family was.

“You never use this channel, not unless you need to,” Leia said, her face not quite angled in her direction, probably glancing at some datapad. Her mother always had been terrible at hellos. “What is it, Elara?”

She had opened her mouth, she knew that much, but nothing more than a strangled noise escaped her throat. For some reason, she could not take her eyes off that projected image of her mother. She had never thought Ben had taken much after her, but in that moment, Elara could see it. The little details in the eyes and the curve of her mouth. And then, it was all she could see.

Leia blinked at the extended silence, looking up. “Elara?”

Hot tears stung her eyes until she let them go, sliding down her cheeks in freefall.

“He was here, Mom,” Elara sputtered, feeling her body begin to shake. “Ben was here.”

. . .

Hosnian Prime

It had started as a whisper.

A name spoken once, but its echo took hold of those around, repeatedly endlessly until there was hardly a soul who had not heard it. Not everyone knew who it belonged to, fewer still the actions associated with them, but there was something in the way it was spoken, with an awe that only came from the deepest fear, that brought a chill to everyone who heard it.

Kylo Ren.

The first time Elara heard the name, she almost laughed. Her brother would call himself something so ridiculous.

And then came the melancholy associated with remembering what her brother had become. She wondered if it was his attempt to be more like their grandfather. Darth Vader. Kylo Ren. A terrifying mask to hide the human beneath. If only she knew how far her brother was buried.

Senator Prost had only been the beginning of what Elara came to see as a purge. His death had been written off. Corrupt men were rarely mourned, especially by those they once called allies. But then Representative Mors Rhada of Ryloth was found slain in his quarters, a dozen unconscious guards surrounding him, retired Admiral Brode Carro, a veteran of the Rebellion and recluse, turned up again for the first time in ten years when his decapitated body was found on the steps of the Senate. Various soldiers, politicians, people who seemed to have no significant impact on anything, were turning up dead, in ways the media was afraid to report.

Almost all of them had served in the Rebellion, save for the few whom Elara had connected in some shape or form to the First Order. It was brilliant, in a twisted way. Their names were cleared by association. No one wanted to dig into the past of dead men; no one wanted to know the real truth. This was hardly an attack. The First Order was cleaning house.

She had been to nearly every crime scene, using what sway her political standing had. Upon exhausting that resource, a few old Jedi tricks always came in handy.

But there were never any answers, only the lingering feeling of anger and the wrongness of never having felt it before it was too late.

Elara tapped her fingers against the console, watching the blinking light with dying interest. It was undoubtedly Kaid wanting to tell her of yet another politician who refused to side with them. The argument varied from outright denial of the situation to the fear of escalation. Pull your blaster, what’s to keep them from pulling theirs?

Only the First Order was already firing, and despite the Republic’s confidence in its navy, the fact of the matter was years of demilitarization had left their forces weakened. Few veterans remained. Most in command were unfamiliar with the rigors of heavy combat. Untested and unimaginative, the New Republic Navy was a glass-jawed figurehead and little else.

She had to tell that one to Poe some time.

A twitch of her lip brought Elara out of the stupor. She glanced around her desk, briefly marveling at the number of datapads that had accumulated over the past few weeks. Kari always managed to sneak them in, replacing a finished one with two, three, four. The number was becoming exponential. Elara could hardly keep track of them all, so she mostly chose to ignore them. The Senate hadn’t had a proper session in some time, many members choosing to flee to the safety of their homeworlds. There had been talk of using holos for those missing.

It was the sort of chaos the First Order thrived on.

Elara sat contemplating which datapad she wanted to bother with when her office doors hissed open. Kari, her hair straight and resting over one shoulder today, strode inside with a very cheeky grin on her face. Given everything that had been happening as of late, Elara had offered to let the aide stay home, with pay of course, but Kari had had none of it.

“Lumas don’t hide,” the young woman of nineteen had told her, full of pride. Of course they didn’t. Both her parents had served in the Rebellion. Her father had been a B-Wing pilot and swore up and down that he could dogfight with the best of them. After the Battle of Endor, people stopped questioning him. “If you’re staying, then so am I.”

And that was that.

Still, putting on a brave face didn’t mean she was going to laugh her way through the whole ordeal. Kari had been smiling as often as she had, which meant not at all, so seeing her this way now was slightly unsettling.

“Do I want to know?” Elara asked as her aide revealed another small, rectangular object from behind her back. She stood up from her desk like she was on fire. “No. No, I don’t want any more datapads, Kari. Just…read it to me or something.”

Her aide looked far too excited at the opportunity. “Port authorities have put a scrapper on lockdown at the local docks. They took the occupants in for questioning and are having a bit of a difficult time with them.”

Elara raised an eyebrow. “Those docks are restricted access. Why would a scrapper bother landing on them?”

Kari looked almost too gleeful. “Something about never having needed that kind of access when he landed on a secret Rebel base. Also, he has a Wookiee, which has gotten him far in life up until this point.”

She blinked, feeling the realization set in like someone had dumped cold water over her head.

“Oh, you have got to-” Elara cut herself off as she nearly ran to her door, thankful she’d decided on wearing leggings to the office that day. “That laserbrain!”

. . .

Hosnian Prime Port Authority Senate Sector

A newly constructed offshoot of the main offices, the Port Authority was well within walking (or in her case running) distance of the Senate building. In recent days, most politicians worked constantly in the offices and would visit the space well before their own apartments. The port was easy access, and just for them. No one had lodged a complaint, until now she supposed.

Getting through the main lobby was easy enough with her credentials. After all, her own transport was docked there as well. From there, she took a lift to the exit terminal, which provided a seating area as well as a viewport which overlooked all the docks. Ships from every manufacturing company were represented in the Senate docks, all of various sizes, shapes, and taste. Many were overly large to support the ego of their owners, sacrificing maneuverability for pomp, while others were simple, but still bearing some regality. Elara had fallen into the latter category.

There was one ship, however, that clearly did not belong to a politician of any sort.

It was an old HT-2200 freighter, a large and square hunk of junk by the Corellian Engineering Corporation. Despite having an excellent storage capacity, the ship generally lacked in every other category, and was frankly an abomination to behold. It looked like a large brick, brown and rusting, which was almost poetically appropriate.

It made her lip curl in disgust.

Why was her father flying in that?

Suddenly angrier than before, Elara stormed up to the security desk and the incredibly bored looking Twi’lek on duty.

“I need access to your holding area.”

In a very monotone voice that said he’d had this conversation before, the Twi’lek replied, “The area is for authorized personnel only. No, senatorial status does not give you access, and yes, I am more than happy to grab my superior officer in order for him to tell you the same thing.”

Elara put her hands on the desk. “Do you or do you not have a raging old man with a Wookiee in the back?”

“Oh yeah. Crazy scrapper pulled into the docking area like he owned the place. Claimed his daughter was a senator, as if a politician would allow themselves to be associated with someone like that.”

“Except that scrapper is Han Solo, famous general of the Rebellion, which makes his daughter me, Senator Organa-Solo.”

The Twi’lek looked up for the first time during their conversation, color draining from his green skin as he recognized her. “I, uh…I’ll get the door.”

“You do that.”

It was not much of a holding area. Just a plain, white hallway with a few doors, most of which branched off to other office areas. The last two doors on the left led to the two cells they had. One was decidedly quiet while the other echoed the raised voice of the man she called father, unfortunately. Some part of her hoped that somehow Kari had referred to a different man and wookie duo. As if life would ever let her have that much luck.

“Look, would you just tell the senator I’m here. She can verify it’s me and then we can all go about our business.”

She heard a sigh from the investigating officer. “So, you’re telling me to call up a very busy senator of the New Republic and tell her that there is a man with no identification claiming to be her father after illegally landing an unregistered ship in a restricted port?”

“Yeah, something like that. Can you get on it or what?”

Elara pressed on the door control, watching the panel disappear from view and reveal a disheveled looking Han Solo.

“Well, that was fast,” he said, sitting up a little straighter in his seat, still wearing that same jacket/shirt combination she had known all her life. “Hey kiddo.”

She crossed her arms, leaning against the doorframe. “I oughta let them keep you in here. You’re flying that hunk of junk?”

The officer turned from the interrogation table to face her, his face draining much like his coworker’s. “Uh, Senator, you really shouldn’t be-”

“Hey now, that ‘hunk of junk’ is Corellian-made, and no one knows their ships like Corellians.”

“No one knows their bantha fodder like them either.” Elara stepped into the room, as white as the hall outside it, and effectively kicked the officer out of his seat with a look before taking his place. “Where’s the Falcon, Dad?”

Han shrugged, pausing long enough to tell her that whatever words came next would be a lie. “I decided not to fly it here.”

“Really? That’s what you’re going with?”

“Things have been dangerous around here as of late. Didn’t want to risk the old girl by bringing her here.”

Elara almost laughed. “You let Uncle Lando fly her into the heart of the Death Star, but suddenly taking the Falcon to the capital is ‘dangerous?’ Cut the crap, Dad, who’d you lose her to?”

“Hey!” he shouted, pointing a finger at her. She used to fear the look he was giving her. “I’d never bet the Millennium Falcon, not on my life.”

A brief silence fell as father and daughter stared one another down, their shared stubbornness preventing either from backing down. It was broken by the security officer clearing his throat.

“You’re saying this old timer really is Han Solo?”

Two sets of annoyed eyes turned in the man’s direction. He audibly gulped.

“Old timer?” Han echoed. She knew that voice. As one, both Solos stood as the child held back the parent from doing something rash to a very stupid boy. “Listen, kid, I was shooting down Imperial TIEs before your mother even bothered having you. Maybe you wouldn’t have even existed if it weren’t for me.”

“Dad, Dad,” Elara spoke as she struggled to pull him away from the officer. “Dad, forget it, let’s go. He can go now, right?”

The officer nodded.

“The Wookiee too?”

Another nod.

It took all the strength she had to shove her father through the door. He kept giving the young officer a look that she was fairly certain would scar him for life. The Republic certainly knew how to pick the individuals who would guard their lives and property.

She pushed him against the wall before slamming her hand on the panel to prevent Han from going after him again.

“Stay,” she said, using that authoritative tone her mother had wielded so often in the household. It threatened terrible things for disobedience.

Walking to the next door, Elara took a moment to pinch the bridge of her nose and sigh before hitting the control.

Inside, Chewbacca was alone, leaning back on his chair, the image of comfort. Clearly no one wanted to be in a room alone with a Wookiee. She supposed their intelligence had to show up some time.

Elara crossed her arms, smiling down at the old warrior she called uncle. She couldn’t remember having ever been terrified of him. How could she have been? When she was five, he was her favorite stuffed animal, and Chewie had worn that title with pride. She would ride on his shoulders and reenact the moment he commandeered the Imperial AT-ST. It always ended with them standing in front of her father, his hands held high, until she’d howl her best impression of her uncle. All the while, Ben was behind them, making whooshing noises because he was Uncle Luke.

They had been beautiful times.

“Thought you were supposed to keep the old timer out of trouble,” Elara said with a smile, ignoring the angry ‘hey’ in the background.

The room echoed with Shyriiwook.

Elara snorted. “Yeah, moth to the flame, alright. C’mon, Chewie, let’s get out of here before Dad hurts himself.”

The two chuckled as they rejoined a still angry Han, who was watching them like traitors. “You know I heard all that.”

“We weren’t trying to hide it,” Chewie replied, pushing past her father.

Han looked ready to say something unintelligent to his best friend until Elara hooked her arm through his. “Alright, Dad, we get it. You’re Han Solo and you don’t take anything from anyone. Now, let’s go back to my place and you can explain to me why you flew here in a giant square.”

“The Falcon was stolen,” came a shout from ahead.

“STOLEN?!”

Somewhere, somehow, she got the sense that Lando was feeling good about himself.

. . .

After several unsuccessful attempts at getting her father to explain how he lost his most prized possession, and one very successful go at convincing port security to let his new ship remain where it was, the trio made their way back to her apartment. She kept the place fairly clean and sparse. There were never visitors, either professional or fun, so there was no need to worry about what her parents over thought of her home. Not that it mattered much to Han. His way of living was in a ship that was considered old when the Empire still existed.

Well, that had been his way of living.

Whatever comfortable feelings they’d had disappeared the instant they stepped through the threshold. Elara knew why they had arrived, and Han was aware of that, but neither wanted to make the first move, so it lingered in the air, heavy and silent. Maybe that was why Chewbacca had excused himself not long after. He was family, but even he knew that some things had to be kept between blood.

Elara desperately wished he had stayed, or tried to get the ball rolling at least. Solos weren’t good at talking. That was what got them here in the first place.

Han stood in front of one of the window panes, watching the increasing traffic as the afternoon grew late. She was kitchen, hiding behind an excuse about making caf.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked at some point, his voice quiet.

Elara stared at the dark liquid pouring in front of her, ignoring the pit in her stomach. “Why’d you visit only when you got news of Ben?”

Regretting her words immediately, Elara turned to blurt an apology, but Han had already moved from the window, standing just outside her kitchen. “It’s okay, kid. I know.”

She nodded, rooted to the spot, even if all she wanted to do was go to her father and hug him. Something was between them, between everyone in their little family. After all this time, they still had not figured out a way past it.

“Will you tell me now?” he asked.

They sat around a holo projector she kept in the living room. A few taps with her finger and an array of lights filled up the space. To those who first saw it, it looked like chaos, a series of random pictures and writings, nothing connected in any way, but Elara had stared at her work for hours, days. She knew every connection, every lead, everything that traced back to the First Order. To those who would rather bury their heads in the sand, all of it was circumstantial, but to those who knew better, it was the clearly written path to war.

Elara swiped at certain pieces, moving them around the map, attempting to make things a little clearer. “This is everything so far. Most leads end where they start, a few trail off into nothing. One took me as far as The Redoubt, but I have the feeling that was planted. They know I’ve been watching.”

Her father had been silent through her explanation, combing through a few things, but mostly staring at the half sphere of intel in awe. She supposed it might have been impressive; she had been looking at it too long.

“You did all this?” Han asked softly. The wonder in his voice gave her pride a small bump.

She glanced again at all the names and faces. “Most of it, yeah. Can’t exactly tell the general staff that I’m piecing together a large murder chain to my big brother.”

Han stiffened at her words, but did not say anything. It was another old argument that no one wanted to bring up. They had been trying to find Ben for years, but then what? Things could never go back to normal.

“Not that it matters anyway,” Elara mumbled after the silence became too much. “Nothing shows me where he is or where he will show up next. We’re working blind.”

“Maybe,” was her father’s reply. He stood next to her, hands on his hips, the awe gone as he began to look more closely at her work, deciphering what he could of his daughter’s hectic mapping. He pointed a finger at a name, careful not to get too close. “Who’s this guy at the very beginning?”

Elara leaned in. “Darek? He was Senator Prost’s aide. The man actually had him try to hire someone to beat some sense into me.”

“And how did that go for him?”

“I pulled a blaster on him in Ataxia. I think he got the message.”

“Ataxia?” Han’s eyebrows rose as he whistled. “Kid, you might take after me too much.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“I know.”

Father and daughter smiled at each other briefly before looking back at the holo.

“He know anything?”

Elara shrugged. “He led Kaid Dexshi to some of Prost’s more…obscure accounts, led to his arrest. I don’t think he’s any more involved than being an angry employee digging where he shouldn’t. The IIC would have taken any evidence he may have kept.”

“If he gave it to them,” Han added. “Could be this guy accidentally started everything. If so, he’s in desperate need of some leverage.”

“Or some powerful allies,” Elara finished, seeing where her father was getting at.

“You know where he lives?”

“No,” she admitted, grabbing her comm. “But I know someone who can find out.”

. . .

The Middle District

It was an apartment complex that might have been considered upscale at the time of its construction, but over the years, larger, more visually pleasing buildings had grown up around it, leaving the once grand tower as nothing more than lower income housing. The owners still attempted upkeep, with vibrant pictures on the walls and pretty, if overdone, sconces lighting the narrow hallways, but time and the occupants were clearly taking their toll on the building. Doors were malfunctioning, suspicious marks lined the walls, and bits of carpet had seen better days.

Still, it was a good deal better than other areas she had been to, and many people would have been grateful for the opportunity to live there.

“How did your aide find this place?” Han asked, hand not so subtly lingering on his holster. Elara’s was hidden in her jacket.

“I’m convinced Kari runs an underground intelligence organization in her spare time,” Elara replied as they came across apartment 342, their destination.

Han could only give her an exasperated look before shaking his head and taking his place at the other side of the door. Elara smiled, before rapping on the metal surface.

“Darek?” she called out, quickly glancing around for any witnesses. “Darek, it’s Senator Organa.”

There was no answer.

She sighed. “Look, I know you have no reason to speak with me, given recent events, but I think you might be able to help us.”

Again, there was only silence. Han rolled his eyes and started playing with the door control, removing the faceplate and pulling out the wiring. She heard him curse more than once in Huttese.

“Darek, we can help you,” Elara continued. “Whatever trouble you’re in, we can protect you.”

There was a fizzing sound as Han managed to electrocute himself on one of the wires. She watched her father shake his hand and put the afflicted digit in his mouth.

Elara shook her head, stepping directly in front of the door. She reached out with the Force, feeling the locking mechanism. Moving her hand in the direction the door would open, she could feel the gears grind to comply, until the door slid open with a slight hiss.

Her father blinked, still holding his hand. “You could have started with that, kid.”

“Diplomacy has a place, Dad,” Elara rebutted, smirking. “Besides, I like watching you make a fool of yourself.”

Han stepped inside, muttering something along the lines of ‘ungrateful.’

Inside, the smell hit her first, putrid and thick, it made her stomach turn. Though there was no initial sign of Darek, they knew he was there, and had been for some time.

Elara put a hand to her mouth and nose, looking around the apartment while her eyes started to sting. It was a small place, but packed to the brim with odd little trinkets from far off places. He had been a collector.

In the far corner was a door that led to the refresher. A foot was lying just outside the threshold. Elara moved slowly toward it, as if delaying the reveal would change the outcome somehow. But in the darkness of the small space, Darek’s body was clearly crumpled on the floor. His head was gone. She didn’t want to know where to. Telltale scorch marks on the doorframe painted the picture of another lightsaber execution.

“He was here,” Han said behind her.

It was a simple sentence, three words, but the tone of her father’s voice made it so much more. He sounded so…broken, helpless. A father searching for his lost child. Unfortunately, it was far more complicated than that.

Elara took a breath, stepping back to his side. “No, he wasn’t.”

She could not feel it, the anger that had accompanied every murder. There was no way of hiding it, no matter how gifted in the Force one was. To kill in that way, it left a stain on the area, a mark for others to read, if they knew where to look. Ben had not been there.

“How can you tell?”

“I’d…know if he was.”

Over twenty years and two Force sensitive children later, Han Solo was still wildly uncomfortable with the concept. He did not deny its existence, in fact he firmly believed in it, especially when confronted with a five-year-old who could lift him up if their temper tantrum went on long enough, but Elara knew that it was still strange for her father. She supposed it would be for anyone who could not experience the Force the way she could. Floating objects, mysterious abilities to sense things beyond the perceived normal senses, it was a sort of fantasy, one that the simple smuggler would never get used to.

But he had tried, for her sake. For Ben’s.

“I may not be an expert on this Force stuff, but those are clearly saber marks.”

“That’s what bothers me,” Elara admitted, biting her lip. “Who else was here?”

Lightsabers weren’t easy to come across, but there were several floating around the galaxy, remnants of the catastrophic end of the Clone Wars. Some endeavoring spirits even attempted to make their own, but without the Force to guide them, the chaotic nature of certain kyber crystals unleashed explosive results.

Some bounty hunters had wielded them over the years, but it made them too easy to track, and many had abandoned them.

It made little sense to Elara. She could understand that the First Order would want Darek dead, but then why not send Ben? Why was Darek the only one quietly executed by a complete unknown?

She wondered if the body count was larger than they realized.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of multiple footsteps rushing through the hallway outside. Before either Solo could move, security forces entered the small room, pointing their blasters as their flashlights blinded them.

Elara put her hands up, blinking against the light.

“Identify yourselves!” shouted one of the officers.

“Senator Elara Organa-Solo,” she replied, her authoritative tone back.

Next to her, her father only motioned in her direction. “I’m with her.”

#another eight thousand words down #so much stuff i forgot about #hope you liked it #star wars fanfiction

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