#Dorin Senator

[kiwikipedia]

From an outside perspective, one could assume that the Koon Siblings were rather different.

Plo was knows to the public as wise, calm, collected, and kind.

Saf, his younger sister, was not at all known to the public— to Lun’s knowledge. But she was just as kind but less outspoken, less likely to speak her mind in circles that she wasn’t comfortable with.

Lun Feng knew both of them, they had grown up with Saf as a friend and went through years of Baran Do training with Plo. And while their external personalities were certainly a part of their character, every time that someone offhandedly talked about “Wise and Stately Master Plo Koon”, the Senator of Dorin just had to hide a chuckle.

Plo Koon was just as much as a bastard snarker as they were. He was someone who loved the thrill of a fight just as much as they did. With lighting at his fingertips and a barbed insult on his tongue when they fought.

And Lun hadn’t even bothered hiding the laugh when they were told that Saf and her husband— and their two other children— would be coming to Coruscant.

There were several reasons, they had been told. Nar Yilk, the former Senator before them, had been the one to tell them this.

First of all, Little Dorin on Coruscant had recently requested for Saf’s husband— Cas Yilk, Nar’s nephew, coincidentally— to work there. Healers off Dorin who knew Kel Dor anatomy we’re in short supply now days, and Cas was always one to help others so of course he had said yes.

Saf, on the other hand, would be joining Lun as a part of the senatorial contingent of Dorin.

Because despite Saf’s quiet and more sickly nature, she was just a s sharp tongued as her brother and just as analytical. And Lun knew more than anyone that her assessment of a political field was a terrifyingly amazing thing.

It wasn’t a secret to say that Dorin was stuck in a rather interesting position. Dorin backed the Republic but for one reason and it was because they didn’t back Satine and her Neutral Party.

Satine Kryze was alright with sitting back and waiting, Dorin and her people were not. But the Republic was going to bleed them dry if they didn’t put a fight up.

That was why Lun was there as a wartime senator, but even they would admit that there was only so much a Senator and two aides could do alone. A third set of eyes would be welcome help.

Especially if a fourth faction in the senate was going to be formed between Dorin and a few others who were of like mind.

And besides, Lun would have fun surprising Plo with this. They doubt that Plo was able to get the news, since it was supposed to be kept a secret. He suspected that was Saf’s doing.

Perhaps she could help them in getting Bail Organa in the political alliance. Glee Ansalem and Kashyyyk were already on board, as was Unvena Prime

#Returning with politics babyyy #Saf Koon (PKWSW) #Lun Feng (PKWSW) #penguinkiwi wips #penguin writes: star wars #Nar Yilk (PKWSW) #Dorin #Kel Dor #Cas Yilk (PKWSW) #Plo Koon #Plo Koon’s Sister #Dorin Senator #Koon Family #Star Wars

[starlightrows]

13 — Reassignment

Hiding In Plain Sight

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Pairing: Commander Wolffe x reader

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: separation anxiety, phone sex, oral sex (described), fluffy fluffy feelings

Summary: A devastating battle makes history in the development of the Clone War resulting in all medics behind reassigned to help with with casualties

Tall columns made of jade green stone, massive arches and domes with painted murals and golden filigree. The People’s House of Leadership and Commerce they call it. Wolffe would call it a palace. That is the view through the cockpit as Slush makes the descent towards your destination.

General Plo was sent to discuss a new trade ordinance with the council of Denarian Prime in place of Senator Padiya of Dorin. General Plo and the 104th were to be welcomed to this massive structure with open arms to stay while discussing terms and providing protection for General Plo, though you could not fathom a reason he would need protecting in a place like this.

“I’ve never seen anything like it” Cinder says, as the team steps off of the ship.

“It’s architecturally similar to some of the justice buildings on Naboo and Adarondaria” General Plo comments “But the pure jade is striking and beautiful”

“I’m adding this to the list of top 5 missions we’ve been on” Slush says, grinning ear to ear.

“I hope these are some lengthy trade negotiations” you say “I think we could use a little luxury”

Just then a group of about ten people, all quite tall and visually stunning, wearing robes of ivory, silvery blue, and pastel green; arrive to greet you.

“Greetings honored friends” says the woman that appears to be leading the group “My name is Lo’o, I speak for the council and welcome you to Denarian Prime”

“Lo’o, it is my pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Jedi Master Plo Koon” General Ploo gives a respectful bow. “This is the 104th Battalion, my second in command Wolffe” General Plo gestures to the group.

“Welcome, 104th Battalion” Lo’o smiles, she makes a gesture to the people standing with her. Two of them step forward holding platters of torn bread and oil. They pass General Plo and offer it to the men standing behind him. Some of the men are slightly confused, not knowing if they’re supposed to accept the offering or what to do with it. But you know, you’ve seen similar customs.

You smile and thank the man offering the bead, taking a piece of the torn bread and dipping it in the oil. You place the bread in your mouth and let him move on to the next person in the group. They catch on quickly and follow your lead.

Lo’o leads the group onward towards the palace before you. People walk freely in and out of the space, sit on the steps and speak in a language that seems to flow from their tongues like water in a stream. Many of them steal glances at your squad as you pass, curiosity you think, their eyes are interested not judgmental.

Wolffe walks beside you as you are led into a massive foyer, just as elaborate and beautiful as the exterior of the building.

“And I thought the senate building on Coruscant was amazing… this is incredible” he’s smiling, a small impressed and enamored smile.

“I had no idea you were so fascinated by architecture Commander” you smile, knowing full well how much he enjoyed studying structures like this.

He gives you a side glance, seeing you smirking and enjoying the beautiful facades and statues as well.

“We’ve had something like that before, the oil and bread” he says lowly “but I can’t remember where”

“Yes, at that little spot Rigga recommended” you say quietly “I’m surprised you remember it”

Wolffe hums in acknowledgment. In truth, he remembers every place the two of you have visited together. Every planet, every level of Coruscant, every shop, restaurant, village, and encampment.

Lo’o and her attendants guide the battalion through the great halls, giving a tour of what is essentially the most ornate community center you’ve ever seen. Open parlors and libraries where people sit together, tables laden with food for anyone to eat, store rooms full of tools and clothing people take and give and borrow and exchange. Your cynical mind wonders what’s the catch? Who suffers for all of this to be possible? If the answer is no one, then why is this not done everywhere?

Lo’o invites everyone to join her in a more private meeting space so that council can convene and negotiations can begin. You’re just about to join them when Wolffe’s com link begins beeping. He steps away from the group to answer it, normally you’d just continue on with the group and await the information with the rest of the battalion. But you’re pulled up short when you hear your own name and rank being mentioned.

“Of course she’s here with us” Wolffe says, eyebrows furrowed in what could either be concentration or frustration.

You stand just out of sight of the hologram, if they wanted to speak to you directly, they would have com’d you.

“There’s a transport landing in the next few minutes to take her” says the voice on the other end, a clone’s voice but with no image you can’t distinguish if it’s someone you know personally.

“You couldn’t have given us any more warning? We’re on deployment, she belongs with us” Wolffe says through gritted teeth “What am I supposed to do without a medic?”

“We’re sending a replacement to relieve her,” the voice replied.

“I did not authorize a reassignment” He snaps

“No commander, you did not, this goes above your authority” the voice on the other end sounds annoyed and inpatient. Almost like this communication is not the only one they’re going to have to make with a similar message, and Wolffe is taking up too much of their precious time. “Those are our orders, sir”

“Fine” Wolffe ends the transmission. He stands there for a moment glaring at a water basin. His own reflection glares back at him. He still doesn’t like to look at his own face, he closes his eyes and turns away.

“Wolffe?” You say lightly

He turned quickly, he didn’t even know you were standing there. He tries to think of something to say, a way to talk both of you out of what is about to happen. He frowns and shakes his head.

“Wait here, I will be right back” he says

“Commander—“ you try to pry

“Wait here” he says again, walking past you to go into the meeting room.

You’re a doctor and a soldier. You’re good at shutting off worry and fear when you need to. But you can’t seem to do that right now. There’s no threat or enemy in front of you to blast at. There is no brother in arms or friend of the cause to save from an injury. Just this looming bit of news that has shaken and angered Commander Wolffe, that you have to stand there and wait to receive.

He comes back a few moments later and close the door behind him.

“What’s going on?” You ask him, trying to be as simple and direct as possible.

“You’re being reassigned.” he says.

“What? Why?” You’re stunned. You’ve been reassigned more times that you can count. Mostly because you were always on temporary assignment anyway. But this is different. This is your squad. Your family.

“The occupation on Atraken” he says.

“That’s a cold war zone. That occupation has been ongoing for over a year. Who ordered this?” Anger is rising in you. “I’m being shipped off to a stalemate? A mutually assured destruction and disaster waiting to happen?”

“The disaster has already happened,” he explains.

That makes you shut up. If the armistice has been broken, you aren’t being sent to a cold war’s front line, you’re being sent to an intensive care unit in a hot zone.

“How many?” You ask, gravely. “How many people are dead already?”

“Millions” he says “All medical officers ranking executive down to sergeant are being called in to help the wounded who managed to escape the planet”

“Gods” you shake your head “What about the squad? What about all of the squads about to have no medical personnel?”

“Apparently, newly minted medics and anyone under the rank of Sergeant are being reassigned or getting their first orders for deployment to take your places” Wolffe frowns “There’s a transport on its way here to pick you up, and we better be out there when it lands”

You follow him back down the beautiful corridor you just came from. You try to take in all of this beauty and opulence while you can, it will be the last lovely thing you see for a long time. Anxiety begins to build in your chest, as the sunlit entrance to the building quickly approaches.

“Commander I—” you don’t know what to say, not here in public for anyone to see or hear. This might be the last time you see him for a very long time. This might be the last time you see him, period.

“I will fight for you to have your place back with us” he says before you can even get the words out of your mouth “Duty comes first, we both understand that. But you’re one of us. You belong with us. When this crisis is over, I will see you returned to us”

Just then a Republic transport ship touches down on the landing pad. You turn away from the ship towards Wolffe “Tell the lads goodbye for me” you try to keep the quiver from your voice. You’re battling yourself here. You want to tell him you love him. You may never see him again. You could die on this deployment. He could die while you’re away. The war could stretch on forever and displace you from each other. What if you never get another chance to say it? “Wolffe I—“

“Ah, the fabled Captain of the Wolf pack” a voice comes from behind you. And that’s it. The opportunity is gone. Your face shifts to serious and professional, you turn to face the voice.

You don’t recognize this person. He’s a small, puggish looking man. Wearing a clean and crisp civilian soldier’s uniform and no armor.

“And who are you?” Wolffe asks gruffly.

“Doctor Roy Farangian” he says “And you must be Commander Wolffe, your reputation precedes you” he gives Wolffe a once over, and looks somewhat unimpressed.

“How do you figure?” Wolffe asks, barely keeping the snarl out of his voice.

“Well I… you see… I” clearly whatever Doctor Roy Faragian had been thinking about Wolffe, he didn’t have the courage to actually speak it out loud.

“That’s what I thought. Stand at attention Corporal, while I see the Captain off” he brushes past his newest recruit and expects you to follow. You make no effort to regard your irritating replacement, and follow a step behind him.

“Load up Captain, we’re on a schedule” the pilot calls down from the cockpit

Wolffe places a hand on your shoulder, “We see each other again” he says “I promise”

“Try not to let the lads kill him” you force a smile “Send me a com, I’ll reply when I can spare the time”

“I will” he says

“Times up Captain, we have to go” the pilot says

“Goodbye, Commander” you say as the door closes and the ship begins to take off.

“Goodbye Captain” he says to himself. He swallows the lump in his throat as he watches the ship carry you away. He doesn’t linger, he needs to make sure this shiny new doctor knows his place and the team is informed.

But when he turns he doesn’t see the Corporal standing at attention as he had instructed. Instead he’s examining one of the statues adorning the water feature in the walkway with a disapproving and distasteful look.

“Corporal” he barks, startling the young doctor “I ordered you to stand at attention”

He scrambles to stand back at attention, but makes no statement of apology. Wolffe rolls his eyes and shakes his head in frustration.

“Alright. Here’s how it’s going to be. You will collect your things and load them onto our ship. Then you will follow me back to where the squad is being quartered by our hosts. When, and only when, I say so you will be formally introduced and briefed on our mission here. Is that clear?”

“Why can’t you just brief me on it now?”

“Corporal the correct answer to my question of ‘is that clear’ is yes sir or no sir” he snaps “And you will address me as Commander or sir to show your respect and compliance to the authority of my rank. Is that clear?”

The corporals face twitches a bit, it’s clear he has never had to take orders or address anyone with higher status as him “Yes sir”

“Good. Now move”

—————

General Plo’s meeting lasted several hours, and concluded with a feast open to all. Wolffe privately pulled the squadron aside and introduced Corporal Faragian, who immediately requested to be called Doctor Faragian.

“Where’s the Captain?” Boost asked, not even acknowledging Roy.

“All medics have been called to assist with the fallout of Atraken” Wolffe explains

“So why’s he not being deployed there too?” Comet asks, arms crossed.

“Allow me to rephrase. All medics ranking higher than sergeant have been called to assist” Wolffe corrects himself

“Ah, so we just get the shinies and the unambitious” Sinker surmises

“I’ll have you know—“ Roy tries to cut in

“No one asked for your opinion on the matter” Slush interrupts him

“Alright that’s enough” Wolffe barks “We’re still guests here for the time being. Be polite, represent the republic well, and be ready to leave the second General Plo gives the others. Understood?”

The men chorus “Yes sir” except for Roy who stands there with an offended and disappointed look on his face.

“Dismissed,” Wolffe says, turning away and heading off to find General Plo. But Slush catches up with him before he can accomplish his goal.

“Commander” he falls in step with Wolffe

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Wolffe says, before Slush has a chance to say anything.

“This is hardly the time or place to talk about that, I was going to ask you about the Corporal” Slush says under his breath

“What about him?” Wolffe asks, somewhat embarrassed about assuming what Slush was going to say. Slush is no fool, he knows better than to say something about yours and Wolffe’s private relationship.

“If he's gonna stay with us, for any amount of time, he has to actually be able to keep up and follow orders. It might be a good idea to make him run a gauntlet drill when we get back to our cruiser” Slush suggests

“Even if he fails the drill, we won’t be able to get rid of him. Over a thousand medics have been pulled from their deployment to render aid… we’re getting whatever is left” Wolffe says gruffly “Regardless, keep an eye on him while we’re here. Make sure he doesn’t embarrass us, and test him when we’re back on the cruiser”

“Yes sir” Slush nods “And sir, we will get our Captain back”

Wolffe finds that he is unable to enjoy all of the delicious food being offered to him at this banquet. You should be here. Laughing and talking with the locals like you always do. Playing games with the children. Learning their stories and giving them your own stories in return. You should be making mmm’s and aahh's at the food and drinks. And adding things to your lists of things he loves.

He isn’t the only member of the squad bothered by your absence. At the feast things are quiet to start, except for Roy who chews with his mouth open and never seems to stop talking, even when no one is listening. Eventually Slush begins speaking over Roy’s blathering and things feel slightly more normal, as the men begin to laugh and talk.

General Plo ends the night early, thanking Lo’o for the hospitality of her people, their acceptance of trade terms, and promising to visit again soon with goods and delicacies from Kel Dor. After the ship has been loaded and taken off, General Plo pulls Wolffe aside.

“I feel that the team has become unbalanced and uneasy from our sudden change in roster” he points out “Remember to check in with your own feelings on the situation, listen to them, accept them, and allow them to pass. If our new medic is truly not a good fit, speak to me directly and we will get things sorted out”

“Thank you General, your wisdom and guidance is always appreciated and helpful” Wolffe says with a nod. And he means it. As much as he wants to hate this new medic, he knows that he must set a good example by not being biased towards him. But at the same time, he does command the battalion, and he will not tolerate disrespect if it continues.

——————

Slush was right. Doctor Roy Faragian may be a doctor of medicine. But he is no field medic, and almost definitely should not be holding the rank of Corporal. He failed 7 out of the 9 tests in the gauntlet drill, he regularly taps out during daily physical training with the squad, slows the group down in team training exercises either because he moves slowly and noisily or because he keeps stopping the drill to ask needless questions.

By the end of the second month following your departure Wolffe has a near permanent tension headache and a fuse shorter than his little finger. On this particular day he called a training exercise early because he just could not stand to hear him talk or fail so boisterously anymore. He assigned him a double shift of guard duty, told the lads not to disturb him unless absolutely necessary and went back to his quarters.

He takes off his armor and lays down on his bed in just his fatigues. He’s had a hard time sleeping lately. You’d become such a fixed thing in his life, even if you didn’t actually have sex or even sleep over in his bed every night, you at least would see him and talk to him everyday. He’s sent you a few com’s here and there while you’ve been gone and he’s gotten some short hand responses. All can be accessed or intercepted so it’s not like they could be honest anyway. But he misses you fiercely.

He can’t get you out of his head today. What are you thinking? What are you doing? Are you safe? Are you being treated well? Do you think about him? Do you miss him? Do you miss him the same way he misses you? He loves you. He loves you so much it hurts his chest and makes his ribcage ache. Do you love him? Do you love him as much as he loves you?

Just then his com begins to beep, he picks it up and sees it’s an anonymous chain code. Annoyed by the interruption, he considers not answering it, but duty gets the better of him and he answers anyway.

“This is Commander Wolffe. Identify yourself” he answers formally.

“Hello Commander” comes your voice. Sweet and clear as day. Not a crackling, interference riddled holo recording. This is your true voice on the other end of the com line. Before he can stop himself your name tumbles from his lips, excited and questioning to make sure it’s really you.

“Of course it’s me! I hope you’re not getting late night calls from other service members Commander” you tease him

“To be fair, it’s not late night here at the moment” he quips, putting a hand behind his head and keeping the com near his mouth so you can hear him and he can hear you.

“Fair enough” you laugh a little “So how are you?”

“You want the truth or the sugar coat?” He asks, already starting to feel more relaxed just from hearing your voice.

“The truth, obviously” you laugh.

“This rookie medic they sent us to fill in for you is driving me up the walls” he admits.

“Because he’s too green or because you don’t like him?” You ask.

“Both” he chuckles “Oh you’d hate him. He’s a weakling. Can’t run. Can’t shoot. Can’t fight. He takes forever to stitch a wound. Doesn’t believe in physical therapy. And for whatever reason he maintains an arrogant and disrespectful personality. Insisting we call him Doctor”

“Gross” you giggle “Has he never seen combat?”

“Not a day in his life” Wolffe sighs “Part of me wants to be sent to a combat zone, just to get some actual experience on this kid, but I’m not about to let anyone on our team get killed just so Greenie can get some credibility as a soldier”

“If he’s as bad as you say, I’m sure the lads are giving him a hard time as well” you chuckle, just thinking of your team and the things they might say.

“You have no idea. I’m sure it’s ever worse when I’m not there” he smiles

“Good. I would be worried if they were all being buddy buddy and not giving the shiny a hard time” you say “But aside from that, how have you been?”

“I’ve been worse” he shrugs, not an untrue statement. He doesn’t really want to talk. He’d rather hear your voice. “How are you?”

“I’m okay today” you tell him “Things…. Things were bad when I got here. It felt never ending. I understand why everyone was called in, there wasn’t enough of us as it was… but things have gotten better now”

“You sound well rested. Your last communication you were slurring words worse than a shiny on shore leave” he chuckles

“I wasn’t on shift today, so I slept all day long. The first full 8 hours I’ve gotten in weeks. So even though it’s the middle of the night now, I’m wide awake and well rested” you explain “I haven’t been this clear headed in over two months… Do you know what the first thing I thought of was?”

“Tell me”

“You” Your voice hangs in the air. You are hundreds of thousands of light years apart from each other right now, but he could swear your lips are right by his ear.

“Mmmm” he hums “Tell me more”

“There’s a supply closet that’s nearly empty here on this base” you mention “I keep thinking, it’s far away from barracks and patient rooms. You could practically fire a blaster in there, and no one would know”

“And why would I care about an empty supply closet? Hm?”

“Because I know you Commander” you purr “I know what you sound like when I stroke your cock. I know how you like to groan when you push yourself into my pussy. I know that sound you make when you cum”

Wolffe feels a wave of warm arousal travel from the crown of his head down the entire length of his body and settle in a knot in his belly. He closes his eyes, thinking about this far away secluded supply room, and you beckoning him forward into it.

“Is that what you do in that supply closet? Stroke my cock? Bend over for me so I could push myself into you?” He asks, putting a hand on his own chest and letting it drift down towards his stirring hard on.

“Maybe” you tease “Maybe I’d press you up against a wall and get down on my knees for you. Maybe I’d take off your armor piece by piece and pull down your fatigues”

His breath deepens, the warmth in his belly is starting to feel hot as he begins to stiffen in his undershorts.

“I’d drag my nose over your hip. Dig my nails into your thighs” you describe, picturing this scene you’ve painted in your mind “I’d start so gentle… it’s no fun if there’s no build up” you purr

He palms himself over his undershorts, he imagines it’s your hands and instead of his own. A low groan works its way out of his chest. An assurance to you that you’ve got his full attention and he’s following your lead.

“I know exactly how I would do it, every movement, every sound” you grin, seeing him laying on his bed and touching himself to your voice in your minds eye “My hand stroking you where my mouth just can’t reach”

He can’t stand his own teasing. He pulls down his undershorts, freeing his flushed cock to curve upwards towards his belly. With a palmful of spit he’s hastily given himself for some small degree of aid in giving himself pleasure the way you would if you were here, he begins stroking himself.

“Mmm… tell me more… tell me” he groans, making full strokes.

“I can feel where you’d have your hands in my hair Wolffe… guiding my head down on you, helping me take you deeper” you feel yourself getting a little aroused too picturing this fantasy “Stars my mouth would be so full, my lips stretched wide around you… fuck your cock’s so big”

His hand moves without direction or conscious thought from him, he’s too preoccupied picturing the sounds you’d be making gagging around his length. Drooling on yourself a little. He’s getting close, it’s been so long, and he’s been so pent up.

“Where are you gonna cum Wolffe” you ask in a voice sweeter than syrup. “On my face? On my tits? You wanna hold my mouth open and cum on my tongue?”

“nuuhhh fuck” he groans. A tremor shoots down his legs and makes his whole body tense as hot cum splatters onto his naval. His mind is as still and clear as water on a lake with no wake or breeze.

You listen through the com device as he lets out the most satisfying deep breath. The relief and relaxation it provides him, gives you peace.

After a moment or two, he opens his eyes and uses a towel to clean himself up a little. He catches himself wishing it was your tongue… what he really wishes is for you to just be here.

“Thank you” he says “Nothing in the galaxy could have helped me guess this was how my evening started” he chuckles. Your laugh in response makes his heart ache painfully.

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t plan this to some degree. Any moment I’m not working, I’m thinking about you” you admit “maybe not sucking you off in a broom closet specifically… but you know what I mean”

“I’ve been thinking about you too. We were on a planet the other week. White sand beaches. Crystalline water, warm like a bath. The people there were so… you would have loved meeting them” he recalls.

“That sounds amazing. Maybe we’ll get to go back there someday” you say dreamily “I love swimming”

“I wish you had been there” he says “Not even that we needed a medic worth their salt… I just… missed you”

“You miss me?” You smile, wishing you could see his face right now

“Mhm” he swallows hard. He wishes he could be having this conversation in person… but he won’t hold out again, he won’t have his opportunity ripped away from him a second time “I miss you a lot… I wish we had gotten a proper goodbye”

“It all happened so fast… I hardly knew what was happening before the door closed in front of me” you try to explain “There was a lot I wish I had gotten to say”

His heart skips a beat and he almost feels woozy for a second “What would you have said?”

There is a breath of silence. Dead air that hangs heavy between you. You close your eyes, pinching them shut against the reality that you have to admit this from billions of miles away from each other.

“Wolffe I’ve never met anyone like you… I’ve never met anyone who makes me feel the things you make me feel…” you get a little choked up “I wish I was there with you right now… I wish the war was over so we could have a chance—”

He interrupts you, speaking your name so softly. He can picture your face. Your eyes, your nose, your smile. Every hair on your head and fleck on your skin. “I love you”

A couple tears spill from your eyes “I love you” you whisper back

“I promised you I would make sure you got to come back to us” he says “I will make good on that promise, I swear”

You sniffle and make yourself laugh a little “I know you will”

“I love you” he repeats, feeling a immense weight being lifted from his chest as he says it “I love you so much”

Tag List: @maulslittlemeowmeow @lucyysthings @justanothersadperson93 @lackofhonor @paige6768 @thefact0rygirl @ttzamara @nekotaetae @littledragonlady

#commander wolffe #commander wolffe x reader #commander wolffe x fem reader #commander wolffe x you #hiding in plain sight

[saradika]

I hate to be a bother but to you have any Cad Bane fic recs? I read your kinktober prompt and my loins fell in love

Hi! 💙 Not a bother at all, I love giving recs! I put together a list a couple of the ones I enjoyed! A lot of these writers have written other fics for him as well:

Sweetheart and this sweet request by @a-dorin

Skin To Skin by @eyecandyeoz

(Non)Attachment by @mitthsyndic

Darlin’ by @angelicimprisonment

Piece by Piece by @nahoney22

Catch and Release by @sporadicthingcollection

(Edit: added in fics that were rec’d in the notes!)

The Cantina Girl, A Lost Bounty & Next Time, Try Knocking by @galacticrepublicwarcrimes

Expensive Tastes by @eloquentmoon

The Senator and the Hunter & Jealousy by @danger-xylophones

(I also have another one-shot WIP I hope to finish sometime soon! Here’s the snippet if you’re interested or missed it)

#reblogging because some great ones were rec’d #and I wanted to make sure they were linked too 💙 #cad bane x reader #saradika answers

[mystoriesmylives]

The Sister Wolf-Habits

Whina has bad habits.

First is her temper.

Whina is extremely protective of her squads (well mostly, all clones, but her squad come first.) So anyone that insults her squad is going to get a chair in the face. One shiny insulted Thunder, saying what a useless soldier he was and Whina just jumped the man. He started screaming because she bit his face.

Poor bastard needed stitches.

Mixed in with the temper was the swearing and insults. She swears like a pirate and she can come up with creative insults. She once called a senators daughter an “entitled cunt” after arguing with her over military protocols. The pack had to drag her away from that one.

Then there is the smoking.

She doesn't smoke those little death-sticks, nope.

She smokes those huge cigars that just stunk. To make it worse, Rafe and Elspeth also smoked them and the group usually all smoked together. They were made to smoke outside after some troopers complained about the smell.

But her weirdest habit was the vents.

Whina crawls into the vents of every building and ship she comes across. She states that she has to know every part of the place shes in, but Sinker told his vod he thinks she is just nosy and likes to spy on people. She had cubbyholes everywhere, stuff either with books, snacks, or weapons.

She even somehow sneaked into the Jedi temple; though she was found quickly and kicked out.

The one place she couldn't sneak in was the senate building.

The Corrie guards always manage to find her and Fox then threatened that she tried again, she was going to shoot her.

So she did it again.

And he shot at her.

When she came back to the barracks with a blaster burn on her shoulder, she only had two words.

“Worth it.”

AN: If anyone wants to know how it looked when Whina got kicked out of the Jedi temple, just think of Jazz from Fresh Prince of Bel Air.

@eyecandyeoz @justalittletomato @gran-maul-seizure @herbalinz-of-yesteryear @stardustbee @kimageddon @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @ninjigma @kotic-kryptid @a-dorin

#star wars #clone wars #star wars oc #whina fen #the sister wolf #wolf sister series #habits #Fox #Sinker #fanfiction

[clonewarsarchives]

RISE OF THE BOUNTY HUNTERS (#118, JUL 2010)

 Eagle-eyed viewers of the second season of Star Wars: The Clone Wars might have noticed some cool Easter Eggs and fascinating trivia. Star Wars Insider takes a look at some of the best!

Holocron Heist

Holocron first appeared in the comic series Dark Empire, published in 1991-1992 by Dark Horse Comics.

Cargo of Doom

This episode features “Kaybur memory crystal”. The initial drafts of the screenplay of A New Hope featured the Kyber crystal: a Force-focusing artifact. Although written out of subsequent drafts, a version of this idea appeared in the novel Splinter of the Mind’s eye as the Kaiburr crystal.

Children of the Force

The mobile over the Gungan toddler’s cot includes a colo clawfish and a sando aqua monster. These underwater beasts can be seen during the journey through the planet’s core sequence in Episode I.

Senate Spy

This episode revisits many environments seen in the live action movies. Padme’s apartment (Episode III), the senate corridor (Episode II) and rotunda chambers (Episode I), the Jedi Council war room (Episode III) and entrance gates (Episode III), and Cato Neimoidia (Episode III) all feature.

Landing at Point Rain

Anakin and Ahsoka are said to have arrived from an engagement near Dorin. According to the Expanded Universe, this is the homewrold of the Kel Dor, Plo Koon’s species.

Weapons Factory                              

The nose-art on Luminara’s gunship has a clone trooper giving Count Dooku a kick!

Legacy of Terror

This is the second Star Wars story to feature zombies in 2009. The first was the horror novel Death Troopers release by Del Rey in October.

Brain Invaders

Mace Windu’s efforts on Dantooine and Kit Fisto’s knowledge of Ord Cestus are two minor nods to the Expanded Universe. During the first Clone Wars micro-series Mace fights a droid army on the plains of Dantooine, and the novel The Cestus Deception features the grinning Jedi Master, Kit Fisto!

Grievous Intrigue          

According to the 2003 book, Inside the World of Attack of the Clones, Eeth Koth died in a gunship crash on Geonosis. Fans of this Jedi were delighted that he appears alive and well in this episode.

The Deserter

Respected film editor Rober Dalva directed this episode. His many credits as editor include Jurassic Park III and Hidalgo—both directed by classic trilogy art director Joe Johnston.

Lightsaber Lost

When Ahsoka is researching underworld thieves, a mugshot of Brea Tonnika, one of the Tonnika sisters seen in the cantina in Episode IV, appears on the monitor.

The Mandalore Plot

The elongated shape of the Mandalorian helmets in this episode was inspired by the Boba Fett animation model used in the making of The Star Wars Holiday Special.

Voyage of Temptation

Anakin, noticing Obi-Wan’s anxiety over his reunion with the Duchess while ascending in a turbolift, recalls the scene in Attack of the Clones in which the younger Jedi is teased by his mentor.

Duchess of Mandalore

Deputy Minister Jerec’s description of the tumultuous time on Mandalore as “a period of civil war” echoes the original title crawl from A New Hope.

Senate Murders

Mon Mothma, a character seen in Episode III and VI, was produced as an animation model for this episode, though the air order of The Clone Wars had her appear in “Duchess of Mandalore” first.

Cat and Mouse

Chronologically, this episode precedes all the others that have been broadcast thus far. “Cat and Mouse” is followed by Season One’s “The Hidden Enemy” and then The Clone Wars feature film.

Bounty Hunters

The episode begins with an unusual title card, specifically mentioning Akira Kurosawa, an influential film director admired by George Lucas. The original Star Wars was very much inspired by the works of Kurosawa, particularly the 1958 movie The Hidden Fortress.

The Zillo Beast

When the Zillo Beast first surfaces, it tramples a clone trooper who emits a distinctive scream. That sound effect is affectionately called “the Wilhelm”. It’s a decades0old audio recording that has become a pet sound effect to many sound editors and appears in all the Star Wars features.

The Zillo Beast Strikes Back

The droids tending to the Zillo Beast include re-purposed heavy labor droids first seen in Star Wars: Episode III Revenge of the Sith.

Death Trap

Admiral Kilian was named after Star Wars: The Clone Wars’ concept artist Kilian Plunkett.

R2 Come Home

Plo Koon mentions the Hydian Way, a navigational hyperspace route that was created in the Expanded Universe.

Lethal Trackdown

Hondo Ohnaka’s cluttered office and desk are inspired by Dave Filoni’s cluttered workspace.

#season 2 #insider #i118

[bylightofdawn]

WIP Sunday

Today was pretty productive writing-wise in between my watching Book of Boba Fett.

I managed to write a very emotionally squishy JasPlo scene which after like 16 chapters of this JasPlo fanfic, there's really not a LOT of them in it.

So any time I get to write them being soft with one another, my heart melts a little bit. I'm also struggling to write around minor spoilery plot points. I wanted to include the parts with Myles but I didn't want to give away any future fic spoilers. Just know before this that they were enjoying a breakfast of green eggs and space ham which Plo had cooked for them.

“He is a good kid.” Plo mused as the Kiffar disappeared from view.

“One of our best and brightest hopes for the future.” Jaster agreed as he finished his own breakfast. “This was really good, cyare. I must admit, I saw the green eggs and I was a little skeptical at first.” 

It was also a little strange but also charming that Plo had cooked for them. Mainly because the food-eating experience wasn’t one they typically shared. He’d certainly seen Plo imbibe an outrageous amount of nutrient shakes which he partook of with an induction port in his antiox mask. 

Plo had mentioned however in the safety of his inner quarters at the Jedi Temple that he enjoyed making traditional Kel Dorin recipes when he got the time. But they couldn’t share your typical ‘romantic’ meals together. Of course, like the other physical limitations and barriers they had encountered during their relationship, they managed to find a way that was fulfilling for both parties. 

“I’m glad you weren’t too turned off by the color of the eggs then. I enjoy cooking when I can get the opportunity and not to besmirch young Myles but the lad looked like he was about to keel over when we left the temple so I figured I’d better get some food into him quickly.” Plo chortled quietly as a bloom of something akin to satisfaction welled in his chest.

Later, Jaster would try to tell himself it was the lack of sleep that compelled him to open his mouth without really thinking things through but he suddenly found himself speaking before his brain engaged. 

“Do you think, after everything calms down and our schedules somehow find a way of aligning, you could take me to see Dorin one day?” The question slipped out of his mouth before he even realized the thought had flitted through his head. 

Plo was just as surprised as him, he could read it in the Jedi’s body language and an unfamiliar flush started to heat up his cheeks. “I mean, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in your natural environment or without that mask on. And it occurred to me, it feels a bit one-sided. The galaxy isn’t really built for those who can’t adapt to breathe oxygen and that’s not very fair for you. And I think I would like to see you without having to wear the antiox mask and maybe one day get to look you in the eye directly.”

As a general rule, Jaster wasn’t the kind of man given to overly romantic gestures of flowery love talk. 

He was a plain-spoken sort of man and Plo Koon loved that about him. But every once in a while, he said something that forced the Kel Dor to completely rearrange his entire view of the man and that was exciting on a whole other level. He delighted in being able to discover new facets and sides to his lover even after all this time. 

And he would be lying if he said he wasn’t deeply charmed by the man’s unexpected solicitousness. 

Admittedly, until now, there had been no chance of him being able to share a space with his lover where he didn’t need to wear his antiox mask and goggles mainly because as Jaster had set, the universe wasn’t equipped for the needs of a species that breathed Dorin-gas and helium. But here on Coruscant, that was a possibility. There was a special set of rooms in the Senate built exclusively for members of the Dorin delegation so that they did not have to rely on their antiox masks. 

“You know we could experience that anytime you are here on Coruscant, right?” Plo felt obligated to point out with affection laced through his voice. “Most of my quarters at the Temple are set up for a Kel Dor living environment.”

“True but I would like to see where you are from. I want to experience your culture and see you in the light of your homeworld’s sun. I would like to meet your people and see how they live when not forced to adapt to the rest of the universe. You’ve seen me amongst my people and have seen our ways, I would like to learn the ways of your people now.” 

A lump of emotion welled in his throat momentarily and Plo Koon found himself incapable of speech. He understood Jaster’s meaning and what he was saying without saying. He knew how tightly Mandalorians clung to their traditions but also how they could be shockingly open and accepting of those who were not born of Mandalore. 

“I would love to show you my homeworld someday, Jaster.” He finally managed just a trifle hoarsely and Plo could not stop himself from reaching out for Jaster’s hands which he encircled in his larger claws oh so tenderly. 

Here, in these scant few stolen moments of privacy, they dared let down their guards and joined hands with quiet affection. Jaster smiled tiredly and drifted closer until they were toe to toe. At this point, it felt almost instinctive for Plo to lean down ever so slightly as Jaster pushed up onto the balls of his feet so that they could press their foreheads together in tender kov'nynir. 

They might not be able to kiss or express their affection for one another due to their physiological differences but Plo had discovered he quite relished the soft intimacy of the gesture. 

After a long moment, they pulled away and Plo couldn’t help but tease his lover just a little bit.

“So, by meeting my people, does this mean you wish to meet with my familiar in particular, Jaster? Are we at the meet-the-family stage of our relationship?” He teased but there was more than a little bit of wistful hoping in Plo’s heart when he spoke those words.

His teasing earned him a snort and an eye-roll from his lover.

“I take back what I said.” The Mandalorian snarked and that drew a laugh from the Kel Dor.

“No take-backs, I’m afraid. Those are the rules.” 

“I don’t remember agreeing to those rules.” Amusement gleamed in the human’s dark eyes as he fought back a smile. But after a moment, he did reach up to cup the side of Plo’s head in an affectionate caress as he stroked his thumb along the line of the Kel Dor’s leathery cheek. 

“But, considering you’ve met pretty much every member of my family, small though it might be, I suppose it is only fair I should meet yours one day.” Jango was the only official family he claimed though he’d claimed his Haat Mando'ade as his own as well. 

His biological family was no family of his and he would never expose Plo Koon to them.

“So yes, I suppose we are at the meeting one’s family stage in our relationship.” 

“I look forward to introducing you to them and my homeworld one day soon then.” 

#jaster/plo #jaster mereel/plo koon #star wars fanfiction #fanfic snippets #wip sunday #el writes #between the stars verse #jaster mereel #plo koon

[fives-lover]

Chapter 11: Stories

Masterlist | Previous | Next

Notes:

Fair Warning!!! We've got another dump coming in until I finally get everything here caught up with what I've got done on Ao3! ~~~~~~ Based on Landing at Point Rain; includes some dialogue from the episode.

The 501st arrived at yet another planet Rasha had only heard and read stories about. Geonosis never sounded like a nice planet, no matter what version was said or written. She knew she would still be needed on the ground tending to the wounded, helping Kix or some other clone medic like usual, so she made her way to the bridge. She was anxious about going down there, about what she might find, and how bad everything might be. She was anxious about whether those stories were true or not. The bug-like things, the Geonosians, that live there were always the creepiest part. Two of the Generals, Captain Rex, and Commander Cody were already having a light conversation until they came out of hyperspace in a few minutes. 

Obi-Wan smiled when she approached the table but kept his conversation with Ki-Adi-Mundi going, “I cannot believe we’re back here again.” 

“It is unfortunate. The resistance from the native Geonosians was stronger than we anticipated,” Ki-Adi Mundi said before turning to Rasha. “You must be the other Captain. Captain… Skohl, correct?” 

“Yes, General. Please, just call me Rasha.” 

“If you insist,” he chuckled. 

“Thank you, sir. So, this is Geonosis?” Rasha asked when she could see the planet finally. By now, she’d been on several desert planets, but this one was off-putting for no reason other than the stories.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan answered, “their loyalty to Count Dooku seems to be stronger than anticipated as well.” She heard to door to the lift open. “You’re late,” Obi-Wan sighed. 

“Sorry, Master, Ahsoka and I were busy routing the Seppies near Dorin. It’s not exactly right next door to Geonosis,” Anakin informed, receiving a small chuckle from Rasha and Ki-Adi and eye-rolls from everyone else.

Ahsoka looked up to Anakin, “My squadron alone had 55 kills,” she pointed out proudly. 

“Yeah, but mine had 76. Looks like we’re ready for our briefing. Ahsoka, contact the Outer Rim Command,” Anakin ordered.

“Show off. They’re already waiting for us.” She opened the communications channel, receiving images of General Unduli, her Padawan, General Windu, Yoda, and the Chancellor. 

“Our ships are in position and we’re ready to begin our campaign against the Geonosians,” Obi-Wan began, “It seems that Poggle the Lesser is holed up at the primary droid foundry.” The Generals continued the briefing for several minutes with Rasha’s nerves growing with every second.

“Cody, these are the coordinates for the rendezvous. When we hit the ground, we’ll set up a perimeter. The trick will be getting past their defenses. Rasha, you’re with me this time.” Obi-Wan turned the map, pointing at the flashing red dot, continuing as everyone explained the mission and what they were going to do upon launching the gunships. 

After finishing the briefing, everyone headed for the hangar to prep ships. Obi-Wan and Cody were discussing their strategy once they were at the rendezvous as Rasha walked up to join them again. 

“No, sir. I wasn’t involved in the original assault on Geonosis. I had just finished training on Kamino a few days afterward,” Cody pointed out. 

“What happened in the first assault, sir?” Rasha asked politely. 

“You two didn’t miss much. Last time, I was chained to a pole and attacked by several giant monsters,” Obi-Wan answered jokingly. 

“Wait… You’re not being serious, are you?!” Rasha asked, surprised by how he could joke about something like that. He could’ve been killed.

“Yes. Why would I lie about something like that?” 

“I have no idea, sir. I just know you and General Skywalker like to tell… outrageous stories. Where was he in all of that?” 

He boarded his gunship and shrugged. “Well, he and Senator Amidala attempted to rescue me and got tied to poles too. The Senator was able to get out of everything on her own while Anakin and I just kinda hung there.” 

Cody sarcastically answered, “That sounds… Entertaining…” 

“Oh, it was. For the Geonosians at least.” The doors closed as Rasha gave Obi-Wan a surprised look that he only chuckled at as they left the hangar.

“What’s that supposed to mean, sir?!” Rasha still couldn’t believe that he could be making light of a situation like that.

“They wanted some sort of competition and panicked when it didn’t go quite how they wanted.” 

Let me know if you want to be added to a tag list for future posts!

@cdblake1565

#new members #fives and rex #fives and echo #arc trooper fives #arc trooper echo #echo clone wars #tcw echo #captain rex #commander cody #obi wan kenobi #anakin #ahsoka tano #fives x ofc #echo x ofc #501st shenanigans #501st legion #the clone wars #star wars #anakin skywalker #fives #kix #hardcase #501st #clones #domino twins #echo and fives #501st battalion #Rasha Skohl #Ari Nierre #Allaria Nierre

[unsolvedrubixscube]

Sith Tomb

Ahsoka is starting to hate catacombs.

She can't get a signal this far underground to call for help, her montrals are constantly scraping against the low ceilings, small creatures scurry underfoot, and skeletal remains of Kel Dors leer at her as she makes her way through the winding tunnels.

Today is a bad day. Not that the past few years of constantly hiding, running, and fighting for her life is necessarily a golden standard to compare to but still, she is not having a good time.

She had stopped by Dorin to drop off stolen supplies to the Rebel cells and hand over some information in person that was too delicate to be entrusted to anyone else. Things had been going well, she’d been inspiring people, spreading hope, able to make a real impact without killing anyone, but then the Senator had died. Nolt Gi hadn’t been a great guy, he was a politician after all, but he was a proud Kel Dor who stubbornly refused to let Imperial outsiders run his planet. Which is probably why they killed him.

Of course, no one official would admit that but his death had been sudden and untimely for everyone but the Empire.

With Imperials rushing in to fill the power vacuum the Rebel cells had been forced back into hiding and Ahsoka had to find a way to get off world fast. Fortunately, the rebels had been using the catacombs to move undetected since Empire Day as it was notorious for being flooded, unstable, or both. Unfortunately, Ahsoka did not have the Kel Dors' familiarity with the tunnels and she was definitely lost.

Ahsoka emerges from the narrow tunnel she had been crawling through for the better part of an hour into an empty, high-ceiling chamber. She shines her light around. The walls are pure black slate decorated with intricate carvings and symbols laced through with hairline fractures. A support frame has been added to the corners of the room, making a metal cube. An archway stands opposite her, symbols she doesn’t recognize carved into the stone, its gaping black maw leading deeper into the crypt. On the wall beside her, several smaller entrances presumably lead to other tunnels like the one she came out of.

“Kriff.” 

She definitely doesn’t remember coming this way before. So much for letting the Force guide her.

 She doesn’t like the way this place feels, like someone breathing down her neck. She shudders causing the tubes of her breathing mask to shake. Time to leave.

Ahsoka spins on her heels to go back the way she came when a sound catches her attention. She pauses. There it is again. Despite the tunnels’ distortion and echoes it's the unmistakable sound of footsteps.

She wants to run towards the approaching sound but holds herself back. It could be some of the Rebellion. It could be some teenagers looking to get high. Better to be cautious. Ahsoka turns off her light, crouches behind a fallen pillar, and waits.

And waits, and waits, and waits.

Whoever it is they sure are taking their sweet time.

And then finally a cone of white light breaks the darkness.

Two figures emerge from the larger tunnel, one leaning on the other. Both of them look worse for wear; covered in dirt and cobwebs, gashes through their clothes and armor, exuding exhaustion. On both of them the white symbol of the Imperium can be seen as plain as day.

The one dressed in dark, gleaming armor of a purge trooper slowly lowers the other onto a column stump. The second figure is adorned in grays lined with red, a cloak hangs off their shoulders, a black saber hilt sits on their back, and a unique helmet obscures their face. The uniform of an Inquisitor.

Ahsoka does her best to become one with the stone walls behind her and hardly dares to breathe.

The purge trooper leans against one of the walls with a sigh and the Inquisitor starts massaging their right leg. 

“Permission to speak freely Sister?” The purge trooper asks, their helmet filters hissing as they speak. 

The Inquisitor grunts an affirmation not looking up. 

“This place sucks glacial whale balls.”

This earns the purge trooper a brief chuckle. 

“Actually, Pantora whales don’t have any external reproductive organs,” The Inquisitor says, her helmet adding a mechanical overlayer to her voice, “but yes, yes, it does.” 

She turns over her wrist and a red holomap of layers and layers of branching tunnels appears in the air. The Inquisitor studies it in silence, before closing it again. She stands favoring her right leg.

“Come on Captain, it’s only a few kilometers till the surface.”

The purge trooper nods and pushes off the wall holding their arm out to the Inquisitor. She takes it and they start out of the chamber. 

Ahsoka resists the urge to sigh in relief. Well, now she just has to keep far enough away from the pair to avoid detection but remain close enough to follow them out of this labyrinth. Easy.

The Inquisitor suddenly stops, tilting her head.

“Wait.”

Shit. 

The Inquisitor whips around, shining her helmet light directly on Ahsoka. For a microsecond, the two groups just stare at each other. Ahsoka can only imagine what she looks like, a nearly two-meter tall figure in a dirty cloak crouching in the darkness, montrals protruding into the air, gleaming night eyes staring back.  

Well, at least she has the element of surprise.

“What the-” 

The purge trooper opens fire. Ahsoka leaps into the air igniting her lightsabers, doubling the light in the small space. The Inquisitor draws her blade.

Ahsoka harmlessly reflects the blaster fire into the ceiling of the chamber. Flakes of stone and dust rain down from the impacts. Her blade and the Inquisitor's clash, sending up sparks. More blaster fire from her left. Ahsoka dashes back and nearly slams into a wall. Small space, right. 

Ahsoka rushes forward trying to slip past into one of the smaller tunnels but the Inquisitor becomes a wall of blazing red. She slips and parries Ahsoka’s attacks in a textbook perfect form III that’s far beyond the barely trained swings she’s used to coming from the Sith wannabes.

The purge trooper fires again and Ahsoka reflects the shots back at them. The Inquisitor is temporarily occupied dissipating the shots into the floor and walls. 

Ahsoka lunges. The Inquisitor catches her blade in a cross block. The electric hiss of the blades being forced against each other fills the air. Ahsoka pushes, leaning down on the Inquisitor, taking advantage of her dual blades and size. Her opponent's blade wavers as she struggles to withstand Ahsoka's onslaught. The red plasma blade moves further and further back toward the Inquisitor’s throat. 

And then the Inquisitor's leg buckles and Ahsoka flies forward, slicing through the air where her opponent’s head had been and through the stone wall and metal beam behind her. 

There’s the sound of thousands of kilograms of rock shifting, a rumbling groan like the planet is crying out, the metal supports scream and buckle, then the wall collapses. 

Ahsoka uses the Force to jump back into the archway, keeping her eyes on the Inquisitor. But the Inquisitor doesn’t try for a last desperate strike while scrambling to her feet. Instead, she turns away and thrust a hand at the purge trooper, flinging them down one of the smaller tunnels to safety. The wall implodes and the chamber fills with slate and rubble kicking up a storm of dust. 

Ahsoka shields her eyes and retreats further down the archway. After a few moments, the sounds of falling rocks and shifting earth stop. The archway remains intact, a mountain of rubble sealing off the way Ahsoka came.

Oh, thank Force.

Ahsoka lets out a sigh of relief, filling her breathing mask with condensation. She’s alive, now she just has to figure out how to get out of here. Again. 

The sound of stones scraping followed by a dull thud draws her attention. Ahsoka squints, making something moving in the dust. Saber held out in front of her, Ahsoka approaches. The white light throws stark shadows onto the figure struggling out of the loose rubble and to their feet. 

The Inquisitor.

The tip of Ahsoka’s lightsaber reflects in the black visor of the Inquisitor’s helmet. Ahsoka stands ready for a Force push or saber thrust. But the Inquisitor doesn’t move, just stares. As the dust settles Ashoka can see the Inquisitor’s right ankle is twisted at an impossible angle with sparks leaping from the crushed metal. A cybernetic.

Ahsoka’s grip on her stolen saber hilt tightens. Dark side users were unstable and dangerous in the best of circumstances, and she had an injured one cornered. She should take advantage of the situation and take the Inquisitor out before she could return the favor. Besides, how many good people had died at her hands? The odds were high Nolt Gi was one of her victims. She should strike her down before this situation gets worse. It would be a just killing, one less monster in the galaxy.

She lowers her blade.

Ahsoka exhales and forces her muscles to relax.

The Dark Side is strong here. Great. The Inquisitor still hasn’t moved.

“Surrender,” Ahsoka demands.

The Inquisitor twitches, as if being woken from a daydream. She raises one hand, steadying herself with the other on the cavern wall, and speaks. Or tries to but instead static with a garbled overlay comes from the helmet's speakers.

Ahsoka blinks. The Inquisitor seems just as surprised as her.

“Uh. You want to try that again?” Ahsoka asks.

The Inquisitor tries again with longer pauses. Ahsoka thinks she can make out the word “fight” among the mess. The pair stare at each other for a second. Then the Inquisitor takes her hand off the wall and makes several intricate gestures. Ahsoka tenses but then recognizes it as Standard Galactic Hand Language. She knows how to finger spell a few letters and say “I love you” but nothing beyond that. It’s something she never had time to learn during the Clone Wars.

Ahsoka shakes her head not taking her eyes off the Inquisitor.

“I don’t understand.”

The Inquisitor stares back at her. Her helmet pops and hisses as filtered air escapes through the crack in the mask covering her lower face. And then the Inquisitor awkwardly lowers herself to the gritty cold floor. She sits there, her broken prosthetic out to one side, hands raised palms open in the universal gesture of nonaggression.

Okay then.

Ahsoka uses the Force to pull the Inquisitor’s lightsaber out of the rubble and into her hand. The Inquisitor doesn’t flinch. Ahsoka narrows her eyes. While the Inquisitor was technically defenseless it could still be a trick. She reaches out into the Force.

The Inquisitor’s mental shields are up now but the same exhaustion and bitter frustration that Ahsoka felt earlier seep through. She expects the Inquisitor's saber hilt to explode in a wave of rage but instead, it just simmers with pain and resentment.

The Inquisitor continues to sit there.

Cool. She’s got an unarmed and injured but very dangerous prisoner and is still trapped kilometers beneath the surface of a semi-Empire controlled planet. Great plan there, Tano.

A short rough static noise comes from the Inquisitor’s voice modulator, bringing Ahsoka’s attention back to her. With deliberate slowness, the Inquisitor turns her wrist over and activates the holomap again. The 3D render of the catacombs floats in the air between them. Pointing, the Inquisitor traces a rough path through the various tunnels back to the surface. The map disappears before Ahsoka can get a good look at the route.

Ahsoka narrows her eyes, waiting for the catch.

The Inquisitor nods at her mangled cybernetic leg.

And there it is.

Facing whatever did that to an Inquisitor is not her idea of a good time but neither is dying of starvation, lost and alone under a thousand kilograms of rock.

The blank face of the Inquisitor’s mask stares up at her expectantly.

“Fine,” Ahsoka mutters, slipping her pack off her shoulders, “But I’m keeping your saber and you’re wearing these.”

She pulls out a pair of stun cuffs. They aren’t Force suppressing but they’ll have to do. The Inquisitor hesitates and then nods. Ahsoka slips the links around the Inquisitor’s wrists and snaps them shut. The Inquisitor flexes her fingers then rises back to her feet. Ahsoka doesn’t try to help.

The Inquisitor tilts her head as if to ask if they shouldn’t get moving.

“No, please, after you,” Ahsoka says with a sarcastic sweeping bow.

She’s not adding “getting stabbed in the back by random Inquisitor” to her list of fun activities for the day.

The Inquisitor shrugs and continues down the archway, deeper into the cold and forbidding catacombs.

The archway widens and the stone surface takes on a smooth sheen as they walk further. Pillars and stone arches stained with watermarks appear out of the gloom every meter or so. The walls are engraved with more of the strange symbols which Ahsoka would swear she knows from somewhere. As they walk their lights reveal shallow alcoves cut into the walls beneath the arches. The only sounds are of the Inquisitor’s heavy footsteps, the hiss of air filter pumps, and the faint rustling of unseen insects. 

Pausing, Ahsoka looks inside one of the alcoves. It holds a rectangular chunk of stone that has been hollowed out. Within it rests a plaster statue of an older Kel Dor. The statue’s hands are clasped together on its chest, its nostril slits and thin mouth are visible without a breathing mask, and its small eyes are closed. The wall above it is covered in runes made visible by the moss growing in the crevices. At the very top two words stand out, written larger than the rest, like a name. 

With a start, Ahsoka realizes it's not a statue, it's a death plaster. This is someone’s tomb.

They’re all tombs, Ahsoka sees, glancing into the other alcoves, each holding a death plaster resting silently within its stone coffin. As they continue down the passage the familiar similarities between the Kel Dors' wrinkled faces become clear. This is a family crypt. 

Ahead, the Inquisitor lets out a short burst of static, drawing Ahsoka’s attention before disappearing into a low doorway. Ahsoka hurries and follows the Inquisitor into an offshoot from the main hallway. Within is a small room, no bigger than three by three meters but each wall is home to giant carvings with a panel of runes on each side. In the center rests more a sarcophagus than a coffin, its sides inlaid with precious metals and jewels. Ahsoka frowns as her montrals pick up the rustling again. It’s louder in here but she still can’t see any insects. 

Her guide apparently doesn’t notice anything amiss because the Inquisitor makes an Naboo-beeline for the back of the room and starts pulling chunks of plaster out of a poorly re-bricked section of the wall. Ahsoka could help but well, it would be an awfully tight squeeze, and who knows what else is down here? So she stands off to the side examining the incised carvings while keeping an eye out. 

The carvings are also stained with mold and stormwater residue but like with the symbols the dark coloration adds to the inverted reliefs, sharpening the details instead of muddying them. All the images are of the same Kel Dor apparently completing great feats throughout their life. In one they stand at an edge of a cliff, great waves on one side, a raging thunderstorm on the other. In the next, they are wrestling a terrifying six-legged beast. Ahsoka feels her heart sink as she looks at the last and main carving of the room. The Kel Dor sits on a throne with an army kneeling to their right, and rows of collared Twi'leks and humans to their left. The Kel Dor thrusts an arm gripping a straight-bladed sword into the air. The stone around the blade is scored as if it emits heat or light. 

Ahsoka remembers where she recognizes the symbols from, her Ancient Galactic History course in the section about Sith culture before the rise of Darth Bane.   

This is a Sith crypt.

At the realization, Ahsoka recognizes the faint rustling for what it really is, whispers. Whispers of temptations and desires, grudges and frustrations, secrets and fears.

“All alone again,” 

“Never could live up to your Master could you,” 

“She’ll turn on you,” 

“And still far too reckless,” 

Only Jedi Masters can appear as Force ghosts after returning to the Living Force but in death, all Force users leave an echo of what they once were. These echos are stronger if the Force user’s body is preserved, trapping some of their essences in this plane of reality, which is why Jedi hold funeral pyres. A tradition the Sith do not follow.  

Vaguely, Ahsoka is aware that a crypt this old and well-preserved is most likely a huge archeological find that could result in numerous discoveries about culture and teachings before the Last War, but all she wants to do is leave this place and watch it burn. 

The sound of bricks hitting the stone floor stops and Ahsoka looks over to see the Inquisitor has created a gap in the stonework large enough for both of them to squeeze through. After glancing back to ensure Ahoska is watching, the Inquisitor steps through the opening. Ahsoka sighs and follows. 

The rough door through the back of the mausoleum leads into another hallway like the first only damper and smelling of stagnant water. The Force users who lie here are stronger than in the last hallway.  The whispers are louder now and nearly constant. If Ahsoka wanders too close to her silent companion she can start to make out voices taunting the Inquisitor. 

“Do you really think you can,” 

“Waste of talent,” 

“Pathetic,” 

“Should have stayed in,” 

“Letting this place get to you,”  

Ahsoka tries to stay out of earshot, it feels like an intrusion. Besides, hearing snippets of ghosts bullying the Inquisitor isn’t going to help her any.

“Help!” A voice calls out, young and desperate, from within the darkness. 

The sound rings out down the hallway, echoing so Ahoska can’t tell if it came from behind them or up ahead. 

The Inquisitor and Ahsoka freeze. The cry for help fades into nothing. The Inquisitor turns to Ahsoka and gives her a sharp shake of her head. 

Ahsoks scowls back, crossing her arms. “I’m not that stupid.” 

The reflective visor of the Inquisitor’s helmet stares at her for a beat before the Inquisitor turns and resumes walking. Ahsoka follows. 

There’s no way a kid is down here and even if there was, Ahsoka would have sensed them before now. It’s a trick of the tunnels or something.

They continue down the dark and twisting hall occasionally stepping through collapsed walls or cutting down short adjacent passages. She notices the Inquisitor seems to be checking the map more often than before. Ahsoka tightens her grip on one of her lightsabers and reaches out with her senses.

Echoes of the dead Sith ebb and flow around them like flickering shadows. The breathing mask rubs at her mouth and nose, irritating the skin there. A gust of dank, humid air stirs her cloak. Under the methodical clank-thump of the Inquisitor’s broken cybernetic foot slapping against the stone floor, Ahsoka catches a steady drip — drip — drip. 

Ahsoka glances up at the stone ceiling, searching the gray ceiling and stone arches for a shimmering tickle of water caught in her head-mounted light. She’d like to avoid drowning tonight, thank you very much. Fortunately, the slate slabs above and around them are found to be moldy but dry.

Ahsoka scrunches up her nose, tilting her head one way and then the other. She can’t figure out where the sound is coming from. It’s not getting any closer or further away. It’s like it’s traveling with her…

Casting her light on the Inquisitor, Ahsoka freezes as the beam of white light reveals droplets of a dark red liquid gliding down the Inquisitor’s hands before rolling off her fingers.

“Kriff,” she swears, stepping back. The Inquisitor stops and looks back at her. 

“What happened? Are you hurt?” Ahsoka asks, keeping her distance but looking over the Inquisitor for more injuries. When did that happen? How?

The Inquisitor’s helmet tilts to one side if puzzled, then follows Ahsoka’s gaze. Slowly the Inquisitor raises her cuffed hands to her face. Her black gloves and uniform are drenched in blood up to her elbows, the blood glistens under the artificial light, rivulets of different colors, black, yellow, green, blue, but mostly varying shades of red flow from the Inquisitor’s hands. The whispers surrounding the Inquisitor suddenly increase in volume and intensity while the Inquisitor remains frozen, her trembling hands dripping blood.

“All your fault,” 

“You had a single purpose,”  

“Hypocrite,”  

“How could you save them when you couldn’t even save yourself,” 

Anger lashes out from the Inquisitor like a whip. The whispers are abruptly silenced and the Inquisitor storms off down the hallway, hands clenched into fists.    

“Uh,” Ahsoka says, watching the retreating figure of her guide fade into the gloom of the tunnel. 

Jogging a few paces, Ahoska catches up. 

“It’s not real, is it?” Ahoska asks. 

The Inquisitor’s pace slows a fraction. Her shoulders slump, she gives her a weary shake of her head.

They continue down the hallway for another ten minutes without issue, the steady drip-drip of the blood slowly fades away, even the taunting whispers grow silent. Ahsoka is starting to feel better about the whole ‘spelunking through a lost Sith crypt’ thing when the hallway simply ends. A stone arch and a blank slate wall stand before them, merging perfectly with the surrounding stonework, no signs of a hasty repair and paint job here. But they couldn’t have gone the wrong way! There weren’t any offshoots or turns from the passageway for them to take!

Ahsoka would think this was a shoddy attempt at a trap but the Inquisitor is mutely staring at the wall appearing just as confused as she is.

“You promised,” a voice says from behind them, young but harsh.

Igniting both lightsabers, Ashoka whips around, pointing one blade at the speaker while keeping the other blade down but angled towards the Inquisitor. The light of her blade throws harsh shadows over the aged stone and the figure before her. A human girl – no a teen, dressed in ragged clothes, covered in mud and blood stares back at her. A bit of her dark hair hangs down in a Padawan’s braid, a single charred hole in the center of her chest,  her brown lifeless eyes bore into Ahsoka.

Kalifa.

The padawan she couldn’t save from Garnac’s sick hunting guild.

Oh, she hasn’t had this nightmare in a while.

Ahsoka just stares. She knows Kalifa isn’t here, not really, but she can’t tear her eyes away from the specter. She’s just so young . She was so young. Did the council really let Ahsoka and the other padawans lead missions in enemy territory at that age? 

“You said you would save us,” Kalifa accuses, shaking Ahsoka from her stupor. 

The light from her sabers vanishes as Ahsoka deactivates them. A Force vision couldn’t hurt them, not physically at least. 

A burst of static comes from her right. Ahsoka glances over, keeping Kalifa in her line of sight. The Inquisitor raises her shackled hands to the wall and slowly lets them sink into the solid stone. More visions. The dead end isn’t real either. Ahsoka is now certain she hates this place. After being given an approving nod the Inquisitor walks into the wall leaving Ahsoka with the specter. 

Ahsoka rests her hand on the spot where the Inquisitor vanished, her orange fingers standing out against the black slate. The stone that isn’t really there feels cool beneath her fingertips but gives like wet sand at the slightest pressure. 

She glances back over her shoulder at the bloodied and burned vision. She’d saved O-Mer and Jinx back then but now…

“I’m sorry,” Ahsoka whispers before stepping through the mirage. 

The other side of the mirage looks just like the rest of the crypt. Gray stone surrounds them. Darkness looms just outside their beams of light but it feels colder on this side like they descended another ten meters. The Inquisitor is waiting for her a healthy distance away from the entrance. A quick sweep behind them with her flashlight shows a perfectly normal and empty tunnel behind them. Kirffing Sith visions.

“Let's get moving,” Ahsoka says with a shake of her head.

A gleaming white figure stumbles out of the darkness into the halo of her light. A spike of fear and surprise radiates off the Inquisitor. Years of training are the only thing that keeps Ahsoka from screaming. 

“General,” the man rasps, reaching desperately for her.

Ahsoka flinches but the man takes no notice, continuing to painstakingly make his way down the hall. As he gets closer Ahsoka can see his armor, marked with the white and blue insignia of the 501st, is warped and misshapen, some of it melted into the clone’s skin.

Ahsoka takes a step back.

It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s not real. 

“Jedi,” sneers a voice on her left. 

Ahsoka’s head snaps around. A gray-skinned humanoid with colorless eyes in a shattered bubble helmet bares his teeth at her. An Umbaran soldier. 

“Tell us General,” the first voice choruses.

Five more ravaged clones have appeared in the hallway beyond them now. One has a single hole the size  of a fist through the center of his torso. Next to him, a clone limps forward, his left arm barely attached to his shoulder, muscle and bone fragments sticking out. Another has streaks of dried blood down his face from his nose, mouth, eyes, and ears. All are missing their helmets and stare at her with desperate unseeing eyes. 

“Keepers of the peace,” multiple Umbarans echo. 

There are ten, twelve of them now. More broken and disfigured bodies creep toward her. All wearing tattered remains of gray and white military uniforms. Most are pocketed by blaster holes, some covered in ash or crushed, but the ones in front stand out with limbs cleanly severed, one even neatly cut in two. 

It isn’t real. Ahsoka harshly reminds herself even as she and the Inquisitor step back to back.

“What did we die for?” The melted 501st soldier asks and the platoon of clones behind him repeat in unison. Ahsoka can smell his burned flesh through her breather mask. 

“You slaughtered us,” hisses the dead Umbarans who now fill the tunnel behind them.

“What was it all for?” demand the clones. 

It isn’t real. 

The melted clone lunges forward and Ahsoka raises her arms on instinct, out of the corner of her eye she can see the Umbaran soldiers closing in on the Inquisitor. The cold fingers digging into the underside of her forearms sure feel real. The Inquisitor flinches away from the Umbarans’ grasp, shoulders past them, and starts to run. Ahsoka wrenches her arm away and breaks into a sprint.

“Murderers!” shout the Umbarans. 

With this battle cry the clones and Umbarans descend on them.

Ahsoka can feel the horde rushing after them but keeps her gaze locked forward, her light on the brown sand tone of the tunnels. She catches up to the Inquisitor within moments, the cuffs keeping her arms in front of her body and her damaged cybernetic slamming harshly against the stone floor. She could outrun the Inquisitor, it would be easy, and hope the sith visions or whatever they were would be satisfied with having caught one of them.

The Inquisitor stumbles and then crashes to the ground. Ahsoka turns in time to see a charred Geonosian pulling itself out of the tunnel floor, one three-fingered hand clutching at the Inquisitor’s cape. It opens its mouth and shrieks at them.

Two quick sweeps of Ahoska’s lightsaber sever the Geonosian’s hand at the wrist, another cuts it in half. The insect-like alien dissolves into a puddle of writhing shadow. A quick glance around confirms her suspicions, the hallway looks just like the catacombs under the Geonosian weapons factory. More illusions. If she ran off on her own now she’d never get out. Grabbing the Inquisitor’s arm, Ahsoka lifts her to her feet.

“Get us out of here. I’ll cover you,” Ahsoka orders.

The Inquisitor nods and resumes her hampered stride, the red holomap leading the way. Ahsoka jogs beside her, doing her best to discourage the wartorn figures, soldiers and civilians alike, rising out of the ground and walls to beg for help or cry out for justice.  All the while the horde of clone and Umbaran soldiers gain on them.

One of the more intact clone soldiers breaks away from the horde. The white blade of Ahsoka’s lightsaber cuts off the out-reaching arm of a clone before her boot lands solidly in his muck-covered chest, throwing him back into the crowd. The wave of dead soldiers stumbles but the small obstacle is soon trampled underfoot.

“They’re getting closer!” Ahsoka shouts.

The Inquisitor doesn’t reply, visor filled with the red light of the holomap. She holds up three fingers and then points to the left. Pumping her legs, Ahsoka races down the hallway passing by two dark openings and then throws herself into the third opening, the Inquisitor hot on her heels. The Inquisitor slides to a stop and gestures frantically at the floor. Under the light of the headlamps Ahsoka can make out the edges of a slab of stone on the floor roughly the size of the doorway. Raising both hands, the Inquisitor tenses and slowly one side of the stone rises into the air. Catching on, Ahsoka closes her eyes and uses the Force to lift the piece of stone face up, covering the doorway. The slab settles into place with a dull thump, cutting off the mob of dead soldiers. 

Silence falls over the pair. Ahsoka adjusts her grip on her lightsabers but there’s nothing. No stamping of feet, no pounding of fists on the stone, no shouts from the other side. Absolutely nothing. Ahsoka would bet the entire pathetic amount of credits on her that if they opened the door again the hallway would be empty now. Kriffing Sith visions.

With a sigh, Ahsoka clips her lightsabers back on her belt. The Inquisitor leans against a wall, chest heaving, the cracks in her helmet hissing as she breathes.

A spotlight snaps on, dousing Ahsoka in blinding white light. Covering her eyes with her hand she can just make out a ring of figures standing in cutouts of the walls but can’t make out any features against the glare.

“Stand accused for the bombing of the Temple and twenty-six deaths, you are." The weathered voice of Master Yoda echoes in the circular chamber. "How plead to the Jedi Council, do you?” 

Ahsoka can’t tell from which silhouette the voice is supposed to be coming from. Another vision, but she’s not sure what this one is trying to accomplish. Honestly, being confronted by the Council is a relief compared to the last one. Sure, it was the worst day of her life back then but now, having time to reflect on the situation and being in a similar leadership position, all Ahsoka feels is rage bubbling low  in her gut.

“How do you plead?” demands the sharp voice of Master Windu.

Ahsoka scowls up into the light. She knows this isn’t real but she doubts the tomb will let them proceed until she deals with this either.

“You know what?” She says her voice echoing in the room, “Screw you. Screw all of you. I was a child. I dedicated my entire life to the order and you didn’t even give me a fair trial for my supposed crime! I had, what five minutes to change your minds? And you just handed me off to the GAR to be executed! Anakin had to run around behind your backs to flush Barriss out. Did you even try to investigate?”

An uncomfortable silence falls over the room. Ahsoka would swear she can see the Council shift in their seats.

“Clouded by the Dark Side, the situation was,” Master Yoda starts.

“That’s because everything we were doing was clouded by the Dark Side!” Ahsoka shouts. “We called ourselves keepers of peace but led wars instead of stopping them. The Republic proclaimed freedoms for all citizens but created and sustained an army of clones with no rights. We said we fought for justice and hope but looked the other way when slavery and war crimes benefited us.”

“We compromised our values, yes, but it was for the greater good. We couldn’t just stand around idly while Count Dooku grew in power,” Master Ki-Adi-Mundi’s  voice says.

“Arg! You’re not listening!” Ahsoka grabs at her montrals in frustration. “Barriss had a point. The Jedi had fallen. The public had lost trust in us and they had good reason to. But we were so blinded by our self-righteousness we couldn’t see it!”  

“Calm yourself Ahsoka. Giving in to anger is not the Jedi way,” Master Kenobi says.

Ahsoka curls her lip up under her breathing mask at that. Like losing her temper was comparable to their hypocrisy.

“Enough,” she snaps, “I’m done with these tricks.”

Slashing her hand through the air, Ahsoka sends out a wave of power through the room. The shadowy figures dissolve into dust and the spotlight flickers out.

After a moment the red holomap appears in the middle of the room then glows brighter and brighter until all the details are obscured. The room is painted in ruby red light accented by black shadows. Looking around Ahsoka can see a ring of crumbling statues, mostly Kel Dors but some Twi'leks and humans, sitting in alcoves carved into the wall above them.

Great. She’s been yelling at statues.

The anger bubbling dies leaving Ahsoka feeling tired, just very tired. She glances over at her audience of one and is grateful the broken helmet will prevent any smart remarks about the “inevitable downfall of the Jedi.”

The Inquisitor shifts, looking at her and then quickly looks away. Ahsoka realizes that between everything her emotional shields have slipped, ever so slightly. She’s probably radiating her frustration and hurt all over the room. Mentally she tightens them, hiding the wave of embarrassment and anger.

Ahsoka suppresses a sigh and avoids looking at the Inquisitor.

At least there’s a door now.

Ahsoka stares down at the pool of brackish water, her head light catching decaying plant matter floating on the surface. The tunnel before them slopes gently downward, keeping the filthy water safely contained in one area, but they have no idea how much of the tunnel is flooded or if it is even still connected to the surface. The brown water ripples as something moves under the surface.

“Yeah I’m not going in that,” she announces. The Inquisitor ignores her, studying the red holomap.

Ahsoka has seen enough of the map to realize the Sith tomb is built in layers of concentric rings run through with ‘spokes’ that ran to the surface. They were in one of the innermost rings now and were trying to follow the spokes out. Unfortunately, the last two spokes had terminated in walls of crumbling stone, so this was now the third dead end the Inquisitor had led them down. While Ahsoka appreciated the effort to not have them spend any more time in this creepy place than necessary she could also tell the Inquisitor was stubbornly avoiding the centermost chamber. It probably held something terrible in it but it also had a big wide tunnel that led straight to the surface. 

“So, are you going to tell me why we aren’t taking the huge main tunnel out of here?”

The Inquisitor continues to stare straight ahead. 

“You know I could just cut off your wrist and take the map, right?”

The black and silver helmet turns slightly, giving Ahsoka a side eye glare. 

The water at their feet ripples and a black shape shoots out, flying directly for Ahsoka’s face. Her lightsaber blazes to life with a hiss. The shape suddenly swerves off to one side and hits the wall of the cavern with a wet smack. The black goo flattens against the wall, pulsing and writhing under the Inquisitor’s Force grip, but can’t break free. It looks like angry black slime mold. Yeah, there is no way she’s going in that water. 

The Inquisitor hasn’t even looked up. 

Ahsoka turns towards the Inquisitor directly. 

“Take me to the center chamber,” she demands, leaving no room for argument. 

The holomap blinks out of existence and the Inquisitor’s shoulders sag a fraction in defeat. She turns and Ahsoka follows her back down the tunnel. Behind them, Ahsoka hears a splash as the slime mold drops back into the water. 

The Inquisitor stops twenty meters away from the end of the cramped tunnel they have been trudging down for over half an hour. The walls are decorated with more intricate carvings and even though patches of the plaster have fallen away, Ahsoka can tell the style is different from the ones further above in the crypt. 

Cuffs rattling, the Inquisitor gestures down the hall. Ahsoka’s headlight illuminates the mouth but beyond that, all she can see is pure black void. No points for guessing where she has to go next. She steps forward but the Inquisitor reaches out, palms up, asking her to stop. Ahsoka raises an eyebrow. 

Bringing her wrists together the Inquisitor opens and closes her hands quickly, letting her fingers slide past each other mimicking fangs. She makes a few other rapid hand signs Ahsoka doesn’t understand and finishes covering the visor of her mask with her hands. The Inquisitor drops her hands from her face and stares expectantly up at Ahsoka. 

“I have no idea what you are trying to say,” Ahsoka says. 

The Inquisitor's helmet air filters hiss in what suspiciously sounds like a sigh. Pointing at herself and then raising her hands, the Inquisitor covers her face again. This time Ahsoka feels the shift in the Force. The Inquisitor hides her Force presence, slowly enough it feels like she’s fading out of existence right before Ahsoka. 

That’s actually not a bad idea. 

Taking a breath, Ahsoka centers herself and snuffs out her Force signature on the exhale, like blowing out a candle. It’s a crude method compared to the Inquisitor’s but it will work just fine. 

Reaching up, Ahsoka turns off her headlight. With a click, half of the illumination in the corridor disappears. There’s clearly something intelligent up ahead. No need to reveal herself just yet. Placing one hand on the tunnel wall and holding the hilt of her lightsaber with the other, Ahsoka steps out into the darkness using the Force to ‘see’ ahead of her. 

After several minutes of walking a musty breeze ruffles Ahsoka’s cloak, the way must open up ahead into the central chamber she saw on the map. But as she moves closer Ahsoka can no longer ignore the pure sense of wrongness creeping up on her. The rest of the crypt had been laced with the Darkside, a cold slippery feeling tickling her spine, but this is different. This feeling is more like that staticy feeling she gets if she sits on her legs for too long. Reaching the end of the tunnel her montrals start picking up faint shuffling and snorting sounds. Ahsoka cautiously reaches out with the Force. 

The space beyond is huge, an enormous circular room topped by a dome and dotted with pillars. In the center stands a giant bipedal statue, probably of a Kel Dor but Ahsoka can’t ‘see’ the details. Tendrils of power and anger rise from the base of the statue, as strong as what Ahsoka felt from an alive Ventress. This must be the tomb of a true Sith Lord, the one who founded the crypt. Multiple faint Darkside presences encircle the statue, all evenly spaced and unmoving. More death plasters, probably of apprentices or family members.

But along with the ancient dead Sith Ahsoka senses multiple living forms. Huge creatures, lumbering through the dark, fuzzy angry blobs in the Force, wreathed in the Darkside. Terentateks. Ahsoka counts four, no five, of the hunched-over bipedal creatures covered in spikes and dripping poison from their tusks. Terentateks were smaller than Rancors which meant an adult was the size of a single-story building. Ancient Sith had created the bred for a single purpose, killing Jedi. 

Holding her breath and suppressing her Force signature so that it’s barely a pinprick,’Ahsoka slowly retreats from the entrance.

Ahsoka returns to the hallway and is surprised to find the Inquisitor waiting on her. The Inquisitor looks up from the floor from where she is sitting cross-legged and nods in acknowledgment. The Inquisitor’s cybernetic ankle is spread across the floor in pieces. Screws float into appropriate sockets on the ankle joint and slot themselves inside, spinning until they disappear. The Inquisitor cautiously leans on the cybernetic limb but the ankle joint falls off with a crack . 

She frowns down at the Inquisitor. Not being able to repair your own cybernetics was a huge liability. Anakin would have never let her get away with slacking off like that. 

“So,” Ahsoka says brightly, “There’s a huge circular room down there with multiple dead Sith and a giant statue of some ancient Dark Lord probably.” 

The Inquisitor nods, not looking up. 

“It’s also full of terentateks! At least five of them.” 

The Inquisitor nods again, clearly having already known this. Leaning back against the wall she opens her hand summoning the holomap, ready to find them another route to the surface that avoids the chamber. Ahsoka has to admit it would be smarter to take a different route but that will add hours to their trek and she needs to get to her ship as soon as possible before any Empire goons find it. 

Besides- 

Ahsoka smiles wide under her mask showing off her fangs. “But not to worry. I have a plan.”

The red holomap disappears. The Inquisitor stares up at her, looking unenthused.

Ahsoka slinks deeper into the total darkness of the crypt using the Force to muffle her footsteps. She’s made it ten meters into the circular chamber without being detected by the terentateks but she can feel them nearby. Despite the total darkness she crouches behind a coffin for cover. Taking a moment to force her breathing into the square pattern Master Obi-wan taught her for clarity of mind during battle, Ahsoka takes stock of the room. 

The terentateks are spread out around the room in three groups. Three were directly opposite of her on the East side of the room, one right in front of the large exit to the North, and two near a Northwest tunnel not fifty meters away from her. One of the two is injured, of course. Ahsoka can tell from the smell of burnt flesh and its pained whines followed by its mate’s answering chuffs. She can’t sense the Inquisitor’s presence at all, which she reminds herself, is all part of the plan. Besides, if the Sith-wanna-be tries to run she’ll just make it so they both meet their end down here. 

Taking a deep breath Ahsoka draws herself up to her full height, releases her hold on her Force presence, and ignites her lightsabers. The two terentateks up ahead turn to stare at this new creature that suddenly appeared in their den before the blinding white light causes them to turn away.

“Dinner time! Come and get it!” Ahsoka shouts and charges.

The closest terentatek lets out an enraged screech and rushes to meet her. 

Ahsoka throws herself to the ground out of the way at the last second and terentatek charges past. The second injured terentatek lunges at her, fangs bared and dripping with toxic saliva. Ahsoka leaps out of the way landing on of the smaller coffins. A moment later she launches herself into the air as a giant clawed fist slams down, crushing the stone where she was crouched. 

Flipping and twisting her body, Ahsoka continues to narrowly evade the claws and tusks of her larger attackers, leading the two terentateks back towards the outer wall. She’d hoped to draw the attention of more of them but - 

The ghost of pain lashes across Ahsoka’s back and then vanishes, a flash of premonition through the Force. She darts forward in time to feel claws tear through her cloak like it’s tissue paper. Spinning on her heel, Ahsoka turns to face her new opponent. A third terentatek, large enough to be a rancor and pocketed with battle scars, looms above her underlit by the harsh light of her lightsabers. 

Well, kriff . 

“Now!” Ahsoka shouts.

Ahsoka throws herself with the Force right as a marble pillar, big enough to weigh over fifty tons, falls right on top of the group of terentateks.  

Dust and bits of pulverized stone fill the air along with a baritone scream of pain. Ahsoka can’t help but wince at the sound. It wasn’t the terentateks' fault they fed on the blood of Force-sensitives but this wasn’t a situation they could talk their way out of. Squinting, Ahsoka peers through the cloud, hoping the Inquisitor’s attack had hit all three terentateks. 

Something big snorts angrily and the dust ripples six meters above Ahsoka’s head. A massive dark shape advances through the gray haze until she can make out the uneven spikes of the largest terentatek. Its forepaws slam into the ground as the terentatek unhinges its jaw, revealing rows of serrated teeth and tusks larger than her leg at the corner of its mouth, and roars.

Ahsoka runs.

Kriff, kriff, kriff, kriff.  

The terentatek chases after her, biting and clawing at the space she had just occupied. Ahsoka zig-zags between the coffins hoping to slow it down but the terentatek just crushes the stone structures underfoot without a second glance. Faint pain lashes across her back before disappearing just as quickly. Ahsoka throws herself to the floor as giant claws swipe through the air above her. Her back to the statue’s base -nowhere to run or hide- Ahsoka turns to face her adversary with her own fangs bared, if she can not face death as a Jedi she will greet it as a warrior.

The terentatek towers over her, its stretched and pointed face full of bloodlust when a stone slab flies through the air and slams into the creature’s nose. The terentatek howls in pain and surprise as green blood dribbles down its face. Ahsoka’s night vision catches the barest outline of a lithe figure darting between the coffins before two more lids emerge out of the darkness and shatter over the terentatek’s head. 

Taking advantage of the distraction, Ahsoka leaps up onto the base of the statue and runs across it. The terentatek howls again then its hand darts between the colossal statue’s stone legs, claws snapping shut just as Ahsoka slips out of its grasp. 

Ahsoka hits the ground in a roll and continues her mad dash toward the opposite side of the room. The terentatek will have to go around the statue which will give her the precious seconds she needs to make it to another feeder tunnel, one too small for the terentatek to fit down.

And there , in the jerking wild light of her lightsaber, she can make out a dark archway on the opposite wall. Ahsoka leaps, intent on throwing herself over the smaller stone coffins when a warm body slams into her, throwing her back to the ground. 

The cold stone slams into her side and Ahsoka barely has the presence of mind to turn off her lightsabers on impact. No sense in impaling herself. Staggering back to her feet and igniting her sabers the white light shows the Inquisitor on the ground next to her. 

What the hell? 

Ahsoka considers losing her unwanted prisoner right there when a baritone growl, low enough she can feel the vibrations in her teeth, fills the air. 

Holding herself completely still, Ahsoka slowly looks up. On her left, the giant terentatek stands huffing and roaring but not advancing. To her right two normal-sized terentateks stand on their hind legs, mouths open and arms spread, in a threat display. Behind them, she can just make out two human-sized spike-covered creatures sitting in one of the open coffins. Baby terentateks, Ahsoka realizes as the small creatures whine and whimper. 

She’d almost jumped into a terentatek nest . 

Shame fills Ahsoka’s gut as she helps the Inquisitor to her feet. The adult terentateks continue to growl and spit at each other as Ahsoka and the Inquisitor break into a run, fleeing the standoff. The biggest one roars again at the sight of its prey escaping. Ahsoka risks a glance over her shoulder in time to see the bigger terentatek shoulder past the pair, completely ignoring the others’ claws and tusks. 

Disappointed but not surprised. 

They are almost at their goal, the main tunnel entrance, only they had a big problem. The tunnel is a straight shot to the surface but it is also wide and tall, probably so the builders could bring in supplies for the giant statue, but that meant it was big enough for the terentatek to follow them to the surface. Forget killing and eating them, Ahsoka would never forgive herself if one of these things made its way into a populated area. 

Whipping her hand behind her, Ahsoka pushes a wave of pure Force into the oncoming creature. It slows, for a moment, but the wave shudders on contact with the creature before melting around it. The terentatek shakes off the attack like it was a stiff breeze and resumes its pace. 

What are these things made of? 

They’re meters away from the mouth of the tunnel now. Ahsoka frantically wracks her brain for something, anything, she can do to stop it. Why hadn’t she brought any thermal detonators? 

A flicker of movement catches her eye. Ahsoka turns to see the Inquisitor, arms outstretched, closing her hand in a tight fist. 

At the same moment, a loud crack rings out from behind them. Back at the center of the chamber, the ankles of the towering statue shatter, sending the enormous stone Kel Dor slowly, but inevitably, towards the ground. 

Eyes growing wide with understanding, Ahsoka reaches out in the Force and pulls, speeding up the statue’s fall. 

Stone groans and cracks behind them but Ahsoka doesn’t dare look back, there is nothing else they can do now. 

Heart in her throat, Ahsoka sprints into the main tunnel just as the body of the statue hits the ground with a deafening crash, shaking the very floor of the tomb.  

Once it’s clear the ceiling isn’t going to come down on them, she slows to a jog, then stops. Ahsoka holds her breath as she waits for the dust cloud to settle. The rubble probably covered all of the entrance but if there’s any room for the terentatek to get through, this will have all been for nothing. 

The blue marble of the statue slowly comes into view. The shattered pieces lay in a heap, completely sealing off the tunnel. 

It worked. They lived. They were going to live. 

Ahsoka lets out a delirious little laugh. 

It actually kriffing worked. 

Ahsoka sags against a wall too shocked to do much but breathe. The Inquisitor looks from the blocked tunnel entrance to Ahsoka back to the rubble before slumping to the ground. 

“We’re alive!” Ahsoka exclaims, then laughs a bit more.

The Inquisitor nods emphatically from the floor but shows no other signs of trying to get up.

The trek out of the crypt is uneventful in comparison. They Force leap across some pits, scare off more sentient ooze, and trudge straight through weaker visions that Ahsoka is too exhausted to be scared by.

With the adrenaline draining out of her system and the end of her journey in sight Ahsoka lets her mind wander to the issue that has been plaguing her for the last several hours. The Inquisitor.

The Inquisitor had stayed true to her word so far, even saving Ahsoka’s life a few times. Could she become an ally? An Inquisitor who was willing to look the other way would be an invaluable asset to the Rebellion. And it wasn't like this was the worst idea she’d ever had, Ahsoka had teamed up with Ventress a few times during the Clone Wars.

Besides, there is something familiar about her despite there being no way to tell her age or species from the full-body suit. Ahsoka suspects most of the Inquisitors had been younglings or even Jedi once, Third Brother had been. Is she another fallen comrade? She wasn’t full of rage and hate like  the other Inquisitors Ahsoka had run into, just pain and resignation.

Could someone like that come back to the Light?

Would she even try?

Ahsoka once believed everyone had some good in them, but it's been half a decade since she’s had that kind of optimism.

Finally, four standard hours later, they crawl out of a shrubbery-covered cave entrance and back out onto the surface of Dorin.

Ahsoka stares up at the night sky above them, streaked with starlight being pulled towards the twin black holes that the planet hangs between. She feels tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. The sky has never been so beautiful.

Tearing her gaze away, Ahsoka looks at the Inquisitor standing ahead of her in the tall grass. She doesn't need Ahsoka to protect her anymore, she might still try for an ambush. Darksiders were dumb that way.

The Inquisitor turns and faces her leaving a good ten meters of field between them. Suddenly, the third lightsaber flies off Ahsoka’s belt, soaring towards the Inquisitor. The crimson blade ignites mid-flight, cuts through the chain of the cuffs, and lands in the Inquisitor’s palm.

Ahsoka snorts under her breath. Show off.

The Inquisitor bows before turning around, giving Ahsoka her back, and starting across the grassy plain.

The funny thing is it's the bow that does it.

Ahsoka’s mind whirls as a thousand tiny details click into place. Textbook perfect Form III, muffled waves of anxiety and self-hate, the tunnels of Geonosis, blood on her hands, the Council after the bombing.

It’s her. 

It can’t be her.

She has to be sure.

Reaching out with the Force, Ahsoka rips the Inquisitor’s helmet off. An ebony mess of short spiky hair falls out from under it.

“-Jedi eliminated. Requesting pick up-” a clipped professional voice with a strong Coruscant accent says into the empty air.

The Inquisitor turns, painfully slowly, revealing humanoid features, grey-green skin dotted with black geometric designs, and deep haunted turquoise eyes.

Ahsoka stares, and Barriss Offee stares back.

Despite the pale bordering on sickly skin, deep worry lines, new facial tattoos, and hollows under eyes deeper than Ahsoka thought possible, it’s Barriss all the same.

Then Barriss flinches, eyes widening in alarm.

What?

Oh.

Ahsoka's screaming.  

Emotions she long thought she’d released to the Force hit her with the intensity of a flash flood in a desert. Shock and fear as Anakin dragged her friend forward surrounded by Temple guards, pain as Barriss confessed to the bombing, anger that Barriss had dared frame her, and later numb hollowness at yet another loss.

Now pure, unadulterated rage fills Ahsoka. Turns out it’s easier to forgive someone when they’re dead. She knows it’s dangerous to give in to anger, that it will bring her closer to the Darkside, but she really doesn’t care.

She charges through the tall grass in long Force-assisted strides cutting the distance between her and Barriss in half before the other woman even starts to move. Ahsoka rushes forward but Barriss leaps to the side with her own impossibly long jump.

“Ahsoka,” Barriss says, voice calm but thready in the unfiltered atmosphere, “please let me-”

“I can’t believe-” Ahsoka shouts, the connection between her brain and her mouth starting to work again.

Ahsoka lunges for her. Barriss darts back just out of her reach.

“Ahsoka, please.”

“-you’ve been alive this entire time!”

Ahsoka dashes forward again and again just to have Barriss flit out of her reach to the left, then to the right, zig-zagging away from her.

Barriss holds up her hands in a placating gesture. “You have every right to be angry. Now, let's just take a moment to calm do-”

Ahsoka hits Barriss straight in the chest with a Force push. Barriss flies back through the tall grass before skidding to a stop with a very satisfying oof.   

“You didn’t even try to tell me!” Ahsoka’s voice cracks on the last bit without her permission. 

Barriss staggers back to her feet and Ahsoka realizes that she’s now a good twenty meters further away from her. Well that was stupid.

Even with the distance, Ahsoka can see Barriss' expression smooth over into stony resolve.

“The Crypt is still playing with our emotions, Ahsoka, you have to fight it!” Barriss calls, moving into a combat stance.

“Oh no, you don’t get to lecture me on resisting the Darkside, Inquisitor!” Ahsoka spits and snaps her hand out.

Barriss is ready, using the Force to anchor her feet to the ground, only this time Ahsoka pulls . Barriss’ eyes widen in shock as she flies through the air towards Ahsoka’s outstretched hand. Then, at the last possible second, Barriss Force pushes down, throwing herself up and over Ahsoka. The tattered remains of her cloak slip through Ahsoka’s outstretched fingers.

“Dammit, Ahsoka I’ll let you k-.”

Ahsoka doesn’t even turn around, she just bodily throws herself at the voice. She outweighs Barriss by a good thirty kilos now. She slams into the Mirialan’s waist and they both go down. It only takes a few seconds and then Barriss is pinned; Ahsoka sits on her stomach, hand at her throat, the other one drawn back in a fist, ready.

Ready to do what?

Hit an unarmed, weakened opponent, who didn’t even attack her?

Barriss’ ribcage rises and falls as she wheezes in the unfiltered air.

Ahsoka ignores the fire flowing through her veins and lowers her hand.

“Surrender,” she says, but Barriss breaks in before she can get the word fully out of her mouth.

“I surrender.”

#post clone wars #star wars #ahsoka tano #dorin #catacombs #action/adventure #horror #Force visions #are a bitch #Inquisitor (Star Wars) #fanfiction #fan fic #my writing #star wars fanfiction #the Sith who heals

[bassuwun]

We don’t really see Plo in a full robe in Clone Wars so I’ve decided to give him all the robes

Ladies and Gents; Robe^5

@penguinkiwi your crack, Sir

#my art #plo koon #this is an extremely basic sketch of a much grander idea I have #the idea is that Kel Dor are ostentatious with patterns and fabric so any time you see the Dorin Senator it’s just like damn #sir your threads are fine as fuck #they don’t need to wear that many robes and I have a few different designs for things that are just ornately patterned #but they take so long to draw

[mortallyclearwonderland]

Star Wars Alien Species - Kel Dor

Dorin was a dark and dusty planet in the Expansion Region. It was the homeworld of the Kel Dors, with an atmosphere of a unique gas and helium.

The planet was situated between two black holes, making access to the planet limited, while space travel for the natives was highly dangerous. Dorin's atmosphere contained very little oxygen, and barely supported life, although some flora did exist on the planet. This atmosphere mix affected the evolution of the Kel Dor, requiring them to wear antiox breath masks to filter out oxygen while off-world. Likewise, many non-Kel Dors visiting Dorin would have to wear breath masks of their own for the gases they required. Humans, however, could survive at least a short time in the atmosphere without suffering any ill effects.

The Kel Dors were aware of and used the Force long before they joined the Galactic Republic and the Jedi. This proud Force tradition was known as the Baran Do Sages. The Baran Do Sages often acted as advisers to rich and powerful Kel Dor families. Initially, their powers centered on weather-prediction, but as the Baran Do Sages learned more about the Force, they realized they had an affinity for detecting, and subsequently preventing, dangerous events. Wars and disasters were often averted simply by the insight of a Baran Do Sage. After joining the Republic, the Baran Do Sages dwindled in power and number, due to the Jedi's greater knowledge of the Force, and their taking of Force-sensitive infants. Those Kel Dors who were even aware of their existence considered them to be eccentric wizards. Some traditional families still sent Force-sensitive children to learn from them, however. Because of their obscurity, the Sages managed to escape the Great Jedi Purges, for the most part, unscathed.

Kel Dors were noted for their simple approach to justice, and they typically saw moral issues in black and white. On the one hand, the Kel Dor were noted for their hospitality, they would never turn away a stranger in need. Yet, Kel Dors were not averse to taking the law into their own hands, and had no compunctions about putting to death a thief who was merely stealing to feed himself.

Kel Dor surnames, like Human surnames, were based on ancient family trades or jobs, or even a description of a particularly famous Kel Dor in the family. The Koon family name, for example, meant 'explorer'.

Kel Dor given names were based, loosely, on the sounds generated by Dorin's unique atmospheric phenomena. This tradition was highly popular among the Kel Dors, and the upper classes considered it bad luck to name a child away from Dorin. Kel Dor names tended to be short, usually monosyllabic, due to an ancient superstition about the "wind spirits" of Dorin. Upon hearing the sustained wind-sound of a long name, so the story went, the wind spirits would have mistaken the child for one of their own, and carried him or her off to be raised as a wind-child. No one believed in this myth for thousands of years, but the effect it had on Kel Dor naming conventions remained.

The tradition of using the sounds of atmospheric phenomena meant that Kel Dor given names appeared to have almost no meaning to an outsider, but another Kel Dor who had heard the sound in question and could identify the phenomenon would understand the significance and meaning of the name.

Likewise, objects and techniques were often named after their purpose or effect. For example, the Baran Do Force technique ayna-seff, which caused brain activity to become undetectable, translated to "dead brain" in Galactic Basic Standard.

Dorin joined the Galactic Republic in 5975 BBY, and had direct representation in the Galactic Senate. Because so many Jedi came from Dorin, the Republic funded the construction of an enclave on the planet. The atmosphere limited the regular students to Kel Dor, although many Jedi of other species visited the enclave to learn from the Kel Dor masters. While its isolation allowed the planet to remain unharmed by the Old Sith Wars, nearly all Jedi at the enclave on Dorin were killed by Sith assassins following the Jedi Civil War. During the New Sith Wars, the planet was the site of a battle won by the Sith.

During the Clone Wars, General Grievous led an attack on Dorin, but the Galactic Republic defeated his forces.

Dorin fell within space controlled by the Galactic Empire during the Hunt for Zsinj of 7–8 ABY and was within the core territory of Grand Admiral Thrawn's confederation during his campaign against the New Republic in 9 ABY. Dorin was outside of Imperial space by the following year, during which it was attacked by Imperial forces as part of an offensive by the reborn Emperor Palpatine's alliance of Imperial factions. Dorin later joined the New Republic, and the Baran Do engaged in contact and exchange with the New Jedi Order.

During the Yuuzhan Vong War, the planet fell into the hands of the invaders. After 35 ABY, the territory of the Imperial Remnant expanded, and Dorin was within the borders of the Remnant during the Second Galactic Civil War of 40–41 ABY. In 43.5 ABY, Luke and Ben Skywalker traveled to Dorin to consult the Baran Do and their involvement in Jacen Solo's fall to the dark side.

Early in the reign of the Darth Krayt's Galactic Empire, Dorin was blockaded by the Imperial Navy. The Sith then ordered that the best and brightest of Kel Dor offer their service to the Empire, or their people would suffer. As a result many Kel Dor entered the Imperial service, though the blockade remained in place. A secret route onto the world, called the Dorin Run, was discovered by smugglers, though it lay so close to the black holes, that all but the most reckless considered it too dangerous to use.

Their skin ranged in color from peach to a crimson red. Most had dark, black eyes, although some were born with silver irises, a mark that was often seen as an affinity for the Force.

Kel Dors were, as a whole, considered an unattractive species due to their strange facial structure. Their noses were described as falling short of becoming a beak, with a gaping opening that descended to the mouth, a toothless chasm with drooping fleshy strands. In place of teeth, Kel Dor had an upper and lower hard-palate, visible only when they pulled their lips back. Framing their head were extrasensory organs which terminated in small black tusks.

Due to Dorin having a unique atmosphere composed of helium and a gas unique to their world, the Kel Dors were forced to wear an antiox breath mask and protective goggles whenever in atmospheres of a different composition. This equipment protected them from carbon dioxide, nitrogen, and oxygen, which were fatal to a Kel Dor. The breathing mask also helped to amplify the Kel Dor's voice, as they were forced to shout to produce any sound when out of their native atmosphere. Without their protective goggles, Kel Dors were considered effectively blind when away from Dorin. They were also able to survive in the vacuum of space for a short time, though it was unknown exactly how long they could withstand it.

The Kel Dors also had heightened reflexes, a result of the extrasensory organs in their heads. As a species, they were thought to be typically quick and wise, but of a weaker constitution, when compared to other species. Kel Dors were also said to communicate with their minds using a form of telepathy. This form of telepathy was thought to be a Force technique known only among the masters of the Baran Do order, but was later exposed to be a lie spread by the Baran Do sages.

The average Kel Dor stands between 1.6 and 2 meters or 5.2 and 6.6 feet tall and weighs 70 kilograms or 154 pounds.

Kel Dor age at the following stages:

1 - 11 Child

12 - 15 Young Adult

16 - 44 Adult

45 - 59 Middle Age

60 - 69 Old

Examples of Names: Dorn Tlo, Plo Koon, Sha Koon, Torin Dol.

Languages: Kel Dor, or Kel Dorian, was the native language of the Kel Dor species from Dorin. Most Kel Dor were fluent in both Kel Dor and Basic, preferring to use Basic over their own language when away from their homeworld due to oxygen atmospheres making it more difficult to understand. It was easier to speak the language when in Dorin's atmosphere, though this did not prevent some non-Kel Dor from learning the language. Vylanthar Merric and Commander Doel Scherp both had learned the language, as well as the Jedi Bultar Swan and Ahsoka Tano.

#Kel Dor #star wars aliens #star wars species #Plo Koon #Sha Koon #Ahsoka Tano #Bultar Swan #Commander Doel Scherp #Vylanthar Merric

[kiwikipedia]

Seven To Cut Down On Time

Rating: T

Fandom(s): Star Wars: The Clone Wars, Fate/Grand Order

On paper, Chaldea is a research facility. That's what they had said at least, however with negotiations opened and on the table, there's much more to them than realized. Chaldea takes to the Galactic battlefield for the first time alongside the rest of the Jedi and the GAR for a test run— and even more is revealed to still waiting in the dark.

AKA: Chaldea’s first run with the Jedi and Clones… Turns out Altera might’ve been overkill

AO3 | Index | Next >

Chapter 1 / 2

I'm realizing that I am very rusty when writing any SW character which isn't great but I try. I had to scrap and revamp this multiple times to get the draft to a post-worthy quality, but I'm still not super happy about it lol. Ah well. Two part installment again.

It wasn’t exactly a secret that in the past months, a number full of powerful figures had suddenly popped up on the outer edges of the Galaxy. Some called them the Stargazers, others whispered of witchcraft or called them a cult. On paper, though, Chaldea was much less impressive. 

Hailing from the abandoned planet of Terra and written down as a Research Facility, it had come as a surprise from both the Senate and the Jedi Council when Chaldea sent representatives to a Senate meeting after positive negotiations with Yoda.

Plo Koon had been one of the Jedi who had been there to meet this contingent of representatives.

Most prominent among them had been a rather large human or humanoid with blonde hair who stated his name was Goredolf Musik Yggdmillennia. He was the head representative of the contingent, one of the Directors of Chaldea, and had a haughty and abrasive personality— yet Plo Koon could tell that he was a compassionate sort under all those words and layers.

Following him were a duo of black-haired humanoids, one man and one woman who had an odd energy around each other. It was as if one could not exist without the other, should one die the other would follow— tethered together in the Force in a literal sense. There were others, of course. A blonde-haired woman walked and held herself in a way that showed conviction and determination and the green-haired young man who, despite his spry and youthful attitude, held himself like a King.

A total of four aides with the representative and of course, they had come with their own terms as an Allied Force rather than another planetary body under the Republic. That was what had been negotiated under Grandmaster Yoda.

Chaldea, and by extent, Terra, would not function like the other planets— they had no wish to serve under the Republic. Instead, they wished to work with it.

Their declaration that their job was to preserve and protect above all else soothed the proverbial ruffled feathers of the Senate and an agreement was made. Albeit, not without grumbling. Plo Koon had heard all about that from the Dorin Senator and his long-time friend, Lun Feng. They had found the entire ordeal amusing and had stated that they applauded Chaldea for being so straightforward. Plo Koon was inclined to agree on that front— there was so much waffling about with politicians, and while he could understand it to an extent, sometimes it got ridiculous and even his renown patience wore thin.

Nonetheless, with a begrudging agreement on the side of the Republic, Chaldea’s terms were accepted.

First, As Chaldea was both larger and smaller than the Republic expected there was to be no talk or even attempts to create any sort of factory or supply base on Terra. Of course, this brought controversy. What had been the point of allying with Chaldea, then? 

Apparently, Chaldea had other plans. And these plans brought forth their second set of terms.

First, Chaldea wished to be included on the war front. However in doing so, they would act as its own entity, similarly to how the Jedi acted, however, there would be absolutely no interference in their actions by the Republic.

That had been a point that was pushed almost immediately after establishing that no construction for resources would be planned on their planet— and any attempts to negotiate on that term had been shut down forcefully. 

(Bail Organa and Lun Feng had been in the room with negotiations. The dark-haired woman, according to Bail, had threatened to eat the Chancellor alive the third time that he tried to alter the term. Lun Feng stated that the man with her only looked exasperated as if she had done such a thing multiple times already.)

Their next point had caused just as much of a stir, but from Plo’s perspective, it made perfect sense.

Chaldea was to be involved in the attack plans and alerted of all movements of the Separatists just like any other branch of the GAR. Their reasoning was solid, in Plo’s opinion. If Chaldea was to aid in the war effort, they needed to know what was happening, rather than being blindly pushed around. Representative Musik had been very clear, according to what Plo had been told— Chaldea operated in a very different way than any branch of the Republic's military force did.

This, of course, tied into their third point:

Chaldea would have no restrictions on combat in Republic and Separatist state. And mission orders would be listened to and regarded, but should something come down— what was it that one of the representatives had said, come down to the wire? Should things get to such a point, Chaldea would save its own and its allies before any war prisoners.

All three were decent points, they made cohesive sense and Plo only wished that the Jedi had thought of such a thing before becoming so intrinsically tied to the Republic.

But that was beside the point.

The problem was, even when everything was laid out on the table, there had been more concerns and questions among both the Jedi and the Senate. Chaldea was a research facility on paper. That much was known. Sure, there were stories and acts of heroism that had been known and certain Jedi had seen them fend off enemies with their own eyes, but there were doubts that they could hold their own fully on the war front. Those feats that were known had always been smaller scale, this, however, was total war.

That led to where Plo Koon was now, hands clasped behind his back as he stood with his Commander waiting.

Truth was, the GAR needed all the help they could get to win the war. The DNA for Jengo Fett to make more Clones was getting stretched thin, and the Senate had voted to slow down on the production of clones. 

So, Chaldea proposed a compromise after a bit of debate among their representatives.

A team would be sent alongside him, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker, and Ahsoka Tano, with their respective battalions, to show what they could do. Should their prowess be all that the stories had said it would be and Chaldea held their own— or, even better, cleared the blockade— then the Republic would agree to their terms. There was a hidden “for the most part” in there somewhere, Plo was certain about that, but by then, Chaldea would have the proverbial ball in their court to do what they will with that.

To be perfectly clear, it wasn’t as if Plo Koon wasn’t pleased with Chaldea joining the fray, in fact, he was rather impressed that they decided to step out and join the War on their side in the first place— besides, he had been one of the Jedi who had run into the mysterious Stargazers ages ago when his own Master still walked with them.

It was just…

Well, it wouldn’t take a genius to realize he wasn’t… all too pleased with the team Chaldea had sent. And it certainly didn’t take Obi-Wan long to pick up on that either, as Boost and Sinker led the group of seven up to meet with them on the bridge.

The size of the group was small, though he had been warned about that beforehand. Seven people just seemed too small in comparison, though. If it were seven Jedi or trained elites—for example, the ruthless Cad Bane and six other top Bounty Hunters— that much he could understand, but there was that doubt with Chaldea. So much was unknown, so much was rumor and whispers intertwined with truth— would seven be enough?

He didn't know, but he did recognize the young woman at the front of the group. That same redheaded young woman in black and gray with eyes that had seen far too much... yes, she had been one of the Chaldeans that he had run into all those years ago. She and a rather distinguished man with long, dark hair had been in the middle of a political battlefield all those years ago, but seeing her now?

She hadn’t changed a bit since he had last met her. That was unsettling enough.

The Force around her was still so wild but also so controlled, with many strong bonds reaching out and tethered to just as strong anchors. Six of them curled tight around the others with her— all of which seemed to be varying degrees of odd in both appearances and in the Force.

Three of them appeared to be prepared for close combat, with the two men donning large blades within sheathes at their sides or on their back while one of the young women— and she didn’t seem to be much older than Bultar, if Plo had to guess, a year or two perhaps younger— had something that looked like a lightsaber hilt on her hip.

The other two young women didn’t seem as bothered or prepared for combat, with the taller of the two, and the tallest of the three women, donning a blindfold and the other walking with a sort of large, stringed instrument floating behind her.

Yes, the first six out of the seven of them were rather odd and very relaxed for being such a small group. And again, seven people was such a small number— Chaldea was either confident and true to the stories or severely underestimating the sheer danger in sending such a small team.

It was that last member that made him feel displeasure— and perhaps that was an understatement.

A child hung onto the arm of the young woman with the stringed instrument. A young blonde boy with blue eyes, dressed in what looked to be an oversized sheet turned into a tunic and with a golden scarf was wrapped around his neck. Like the rest, he had a subtle thrum of power radiating off of him, but Plo Koon couldn’t help but bristle internally.

Oh, how he wanted to berate the Chaldean Company for bringing a child as their seventh member.

Call him a hypocrite, but at least the rest of the company seemed to be of their age majority, or at least close to it. The young woman at the head of the group was debatable, but she certainly had to have been old enough considering his own Master had still been alive the last time he had seen her, but the seventh member of the Chaldean company was younger than Ahsoka— younger than most padawans.

The boy couldn’t have been more than eight, ten-years-old standard at most— and yet here he was, eyes full of curiosity and listening to the young woman chatter about this and that as they walked across the hangar of the Triumphant to meet them.

With a glance toward Obi-Wan, Plo Koon could tell that he was thinking along the same lines.

Even as the young woman from before perked up and called out a greeting to him, all that remained was the taste of ash in his mouth.

Chaldea did not seem to care who was thrown into battle. And Plo Koon would be the judgment that brought the axe down if it turned out that the child brought here was killed.

Is there a specific reason why Goredolf is "Gordolf" on AO3?

Anyways, the whole Senatorial thing will be relevant later on maybe, but the general idea behind it is that since Goredolf is also a Master now as per this AU (when that happened is still up in the air, I'm working on some ideas but it's not super important), the switching out of Servants is done through the contract connection. Basically, Gudako and Goredolf are fast travel locations for Servants to move quickly without the need for a pseudo-rayshift or other transport. I figure that since Goredolf seems more versed in politics, he with a few servants as backup for other perspectives could act for Chaldea in the Senate. They're all still in contact, of course, but since Romani is co-director, he's back in the seat for main communication and monitoring Gudako.

The main reason for Plo Koon's uncertainty and then dislike is that Chaldea itself is an unknown factor. No one should be expected to trust such a mysterious group right off the bat, no matter how much I like Plo Koon. He's one of the first Jedi aside from Yoda that will be fighting with them in the War, and even then, Yoda and the Servants didn't really fight together against Ventress.

From Plo's perspective, seeing a group of seven is enough to just be confusing and concerning, and then throw the fact in that one of them is son boy child Voyager? Sure, the Jedi have padawans on the front lines, but if we operate under the assumption that the Padawans are at least all 12-14 and above, its understandable that anyone would be concerned when an eight-year-old shows up to the frontlines. And Plo "loves children" Koon would be understandably distrustful towards the accompanying party.

Of course, we know that Son Boy Voyager is more than powerful, but Plo doesn't.

Anyways, there's more battle next chapter.

#Gudako #Ritsuka Fujimaru #Crossover #Star Wars #fate #fate go #fgo #fate grand order #tcw #fgo sigurd #medusa fate #fgo voyager #fgo yang guifei #voyager #Plo Koon #yang guifei #medusa #sigurd #berserkerlot #fate berserker lancelot #fgo lancelot #fate lancelot #fgo medusa #fate altera #fgo berserkerlot #fgo berserker lancelot #fgo altera #Penguin Writes: Star Wars #Kiwiki Writes: Seven to Cut Down On Time #Kiwiki Writes: Stargazing at the Edge of the Galaxy

[elenamiria]

A False Marriage

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader

Rating: PG-13 Summary: On a recon mission you and Obi-Wan must pretend to be a married couple. This brings feelings to light that neither of you realized were there. Written for @sugared-strawberrys who was a winner of my 600 follower giveaway! I hope you enjoy this, I absolutely loved writing it. It turned out really soft and I hope you don't mind 🥰 Also I really can’t help myself with the tropes in this one haha oops. And this is the inspiration for the dress reader wears in this. Word Count: 3.2k Warnings: Tension, kissing, mentions of sexual situations, fem reader, talks about braided hair and putting hair in an updo Tags: @crazycatladyjenga @oneirnaut , @a-dorin , @blxwjobsforclones, @lynnie51 @katrynec @mistermiraclee​ @theelvenvalkyrie​ , @ifvckedurmom​ Masterlist & Obi-Wan Kenobi Masterlist

You had tried to hide the terse look on your face as you sat next to Obi-Wan on your transport to a high class gala on Alderaan for your mission, but unfortunately you were never good at holding you expressions in check. You would have felt much more comfortable in your A-wing than the civilian ship you and your mission partner were travelling in. 

A short sigh left your mouth as you tried not to worry yourself about the mission, after all there wasn't much you could do to change your circumstances. Your brief noise caught the attention of Obi-Wan and he tilted his head towards you, taking in your tense features. A small smile covered his lips as he quipped, "Come now, it's not as if you actually had to marry me."

You rolled your eyes at his statement and shot a facetious glare his way, "Not everything is about you Master Kenobi."

Settling back into your seat you allowed your eyes to slide to the window in front of you watching space pass by. Though you could certainly see why he would think your little huff was directed at him considering you had been less than pleased at your mission partner when in the mission debrief. It wasn't that you lacked respect for the Jedi General in fact you held him in the highest regard. However, your perfectionist nature and the fact that Obi-Wan seemed to be naturally gifted in most things he did led to a fiercely competitive friendship through the both of your lives. In truth you weren't really upset that you had been paired with him, the frustration stemmed mainly from within and your worry that you would make a fool of yourself in front of the esteemed Jedi next to you. 

Apparently you missed his reply, lost in your own thoughts, and you were startled from your racing thoughts by a call of your name. Turning abruptly you met his genuinely concerned gaze and you blinked blankly at him for a second until he prompted, "Are you are alright?"

This time your huff was directed towards him and you narrowed your eyes in annoyance, this was just like him to question you like that. You knew he was truly just wanting to ensure there was nothing wrong but the part of your brain that enjoyed pushing his buttons seemed to take over as you muttered, "Fine. Just thinking about how I have to pretend that I, your wife, let you keep your hair like that."

Obi-Wan's mouth parted and a rather indignant noise flew from him before he glared back at you, one hand subconsciously tugging at the end of his long locks, "Yes, well at least you don't have to deal with a partner who's recon missions tend to go as well as falling into a sarlacc pit goes."

An audible gasp flew from you as you spun towards him, your face heating in anger, and you spit out, "You're lucky I don't have my lightsaber on me Kenobi!" A smirk covered his lips and you knew whatever was coming next would only serve to further provoke you. Your thoughts were proven absolutely correct as Obi-Wan smugly questioned, "I think rather it's you who's lucky that your weapon isn't on you as we both know how embarrassing it would be for me to best you after that little quip."

Having known Obi-Wan for so long you could pretty easily predict what was going to come out of his mouth and this time you were ready. You let out a short laugh before retorting, "I'd only hope that you'd grant me the small mercy of knocking me out so I don't have to listen to you prattle on anymore." "My dear it seems that would be the most beneficial option for both of us." Came Kenobi's smooth reply. Crossing your arms and sinking further down into your seat you snapped back a short 'fine' and allowed the space craft to fall into silence. It remained that way for majority of the few hours left in flight, the quiet only disturbed by the occasional question as you went over the mission plans again. The mission in question was to find out if a high ranking Alderaan official was secretly pushing a separatist agenda - something that Bail Organa's wife had become suspicious of. You had questioned why this wasn't simply a solo mission and much to your displeasure had found out that this man had a penchant for married women it seemed, thus here the two of you were.

Thanks to your rigorous study of the mission details it didn't seem all that long until you were arriving on Alderaan and being escorted to your room within the royal palace. When you arrived you barely had time to take in your surroundings before Obi-Wan was softly muttering that he would get ready first and you could make yourself comfortable. He quickly retreated to the bathroom of the luxurious accommodations and you took a moment to take a look around. Though the room was grand it was decorated minimally, not that it mattered when a large window gave a stunning view of the snowy topped mountains.  

 You took a long breath to soak in the beauty that you didn't often get to see within the bustling confines of the city before turning and setting your bags down. One bag was dedicated solely to the gown you were supposed to wear tonight - a truly impressive dress that made you feel like royalty and at the same time completely out of your element. Pulling it gently out of the bag you laid it across the couch, ensuring there were minimal wrinkles. Satisfied you let your eyes roam the room and then you settled your gaze on the bed in the room. Blinking for a few seconds your head quickly turned to look around the rest of the room as if you could will a second bed into existence.  A deep exhale left your mouth as you pinched the bridge of your nose already deciding that you would offer to let Obi-Wan take the bed, after all you had been the one to pick a fight with him on the ship, it seemed the least you could do. 

Settling on the couch next to your dress you pulled out a small mirror and began to undo the tight braids your hair was in to hopefully save you some time in the bathroom. It wasn't often that you wore your hair down and your could feel your scalp thanking you as you lightly massaged any sore spots. You weren't sure how much time had passed, once again allowing your thoughts and worries about the mission consume your thoughts despite your best efforts to simply relax, and you startled slightly when the refresher door slid open. Obi-Wan strolled out dressed in a similar style to Bail Organa and you wondered if perhaps the senator hadn't lent him some of his clothing. Though all thoughts flew from your head as he passed the window and the sun caught on his cheekbones, highlighting his skin and lighting up his brilliant blue eyes. You could have sworn time slowed down as he offered you a gentle smile and your breath caught in your throat as you tried to regain some of your sense. It was only after a few moments that you noticed he had trimmed his hair, where the curls had fallen just past his shoulders they now just brushed them. Had he done that because of your snarky statement? Your brow furrowed slightly as you questioned why you were so caught up in his appearance in the first place and the moment was broken by your gaze snapping to the floor. 

Obi-Wan's gaze lingered on you, a slight frown covering his face as he wondered if he had somehow upset you when you quickly gathered your belongings and practically fled into the bathroom. A small noise distracted him from your retreating form and he bent down to pick up the fake engagement and wedding rings you had been given to wear. Standing he turned to call out to you but as the refresher door slid shut he simply held onto them, figuring he could give you them before the two of you left for the gala.

Staring into the mirror you sighed deeply, shaking your head. The only reason you were distracted by Obi-Wan's appearance was because of your nerves about the mission you had decided. Nothing more and nothing less. You had certainly never looked at Obi-Wan in that light before - though there were all the times when you found yourself captivated by his grace in combat and how his......no you definitely had never seen him like this before.  

Focusing back to the task at hand you applied your makeup and finished putting your hair into a simple updo, one that you had done before and that was elegant and yet functional at keeping your hair out of your face. And then came the dress. You disrobed rather quickly, folding your clothes into a neat pile, and stepped into the dress. Pulling it on you could admit that it truly was a beautiful dress though as your arms slid into the small off the shoulder sleeves you could tell that there was no practicality in the dress. Your arms seemed to fit into the sleeves a bit snugly and thus your movement was quite severely limited, an issue you found when attempting to reach back and lace the back of the dress. After several futile attempts you hung your head in defeat, taking a deep breath before calling out for your Jedi partner. You waited several seconds before calling out again, this time hearing several hurried footsteps before you heard your name come from the opposite side of the door. Sighing you gave in and as quietly as you could manage (while still ensuring he could hear you) asked, "Will you please come help me?"

The door slid open and you stubbornly stared at the counter as your face heated in embarrassment, "I just- I can't get the laces and I'm not really even sure how they're supposed to go. Please don't laugh, I know I look completely ridiculous and I-"

You were cut off by a soft, calming call of your name and then you felt Obi-Wan's fingers brush at your back, gathering the laces. His gentle tone caught you off guard yet again and you stilled, chancing a glance in the mirror. Blue eyes caught yours and the serious look on his face had you freezing where you stood. Deftly he laced up the back, tugging and pulling as lightly as he could, only breaking eye contact for a few moments at a time. His sureness had you feeling more calm by the second and when he finished, tucking the laces in between the layers of your dress, his gentle smile brought you back to reality. Turning your face heated for an entirely different reason as you realized how close you were, gaze dropping to the floor again. 

A warm hand captured your left hand and gently raised it, calloused fingers brushing softly over yours. Looking up at him in confusion you were met with a mischievous grin and his opposite hand procured the rings you were supposed to be wearing. You let out a small laugh as you relaxed completely in his grip, "Looks like I'm not getting out of this marriage am I Obi-Wan?"

"Most certainly not my dear." A smile crossed your face as he slid the rings onto your finger delicately. Your other hand rose to run through the hair at the nape of his neck as you questioned, "Did you cut your hair for me?"

General Kenobi tensed slightly at your question and as your eyes met his a light pink dusted his cheeks. That was answer enough for you and an airy laugh fell from your lips, "Thank you darling, it looks wonderful."

Purposefully you drawled out the pet name in an attempt at his accent. There was a pause and the Obi-Wan let out an equally as bright laugh before he squeezed your hand, "Well I'm glad you think so. However, I do believe it is time for us to head to the gala."

As if sensing your nerves about to spike Obi spoke again in a teasing lilt, "And you don't look ridiculous, you truly look absolutely ravishing."

With that he swept out of the room, leaving you to pick your jaw up off of the floor and your hands smoothed down your dress before you followed after him - an air of confidence overtaking you.

The two of you arrived shortly after the gala had began, a steady flow of officials and ambassadors filling the room. Swallowing you took a step closer to Obi-Wan and a comforting hand met your lower back. Sharp eyes scanned the room as the two of you searched for the target. 

"I don't see him." You said lowly and Obi-Wan nodded in agreement, "Nor I. While we wait would your prefer to mingle with others, dance or should we make ourselves known at the bar?"

You opted for the last option, as it offered a solid vantage point of everyone entering and having a small drink never hurt. Courteously Obi-Wan guided you through the crowds and even pulled out your seat for you, ensuring you were sat comfortably before taking his own seat next to you. Ordering quickly your partner slid around on the stool to face outwards and you turned to face him, your thighs brushing together lightly. 

The contact had you taking a healthy swallow of your drink once it arrived and then you distracted yourself by keeping an eye out on the entrance. A warm palm settled on your knee and a shock shot up your spine causing you to nearly choke on your drink. Glancing at Obi-Wan you noticed his eyes trailing someone. A look towards his eyeline confirmed that he had located the target, who in a stroke of good fortune was heading directly towards the bar. Deciding it would be best to play up your false marriage you softly called out for Obi-Wan's attention, which was promptly given. You inhaled deeply as you made eye contact and whispered, "Do you trust me?"

Obi's eyes searched yours as he nodded and surely stated 'of course'. That gave you the courage to lean forwards, left hand coming up to cup his face, and connect your lips together. The Jedi jolted and froze for a split-second before responding to the kiss more eagerly than you had anticipated. His lips were soft and warm, moving in tandem with yours, and when his hand slid up to your thigh a small nip on your lower lip had you melting into him. In the moment everything faded away - the mission, the crowd surrounding you, the cacophony of sound - it was only you and him, that's all that mattered. His other hand rose to cup your hand on the side of his face and he gave it a soft squeeze as he parted from you, a warmth gleaming in his eyes that hadn't been there before. 

You felt your face heating as he gave you a sparkling smile, you pulled back slightly but he kept your hand clasped in his. A brush of his lips against the tips of his fingers sparked something in your lower stomach and you had to suppress a gasp as he then pressed a kiss to your palm, lips trailing to the pulse point on your wrist. As his lips made contact you swore you forgot how to breath, his cerulean eyes locked with yours as your lips parted in a silent exhale. With that gentle touch he slowly rose, brushed a stray hair off of your cheek, and bent to your level. Beard tickling at your cheek he whispered to you, "He's directly behind you, I think we peaked his interest darling." 

Standing up to his full height again he made it clear that he would be right back before pressing a kiss to your forehead, seemingly leaving you alone with the target, your heart racing from the intimate touches. You knew that he wasn't going far, the banquet hall in the palace had secret eavesdropping locations hidden behind screens and you knew he would be retreating to one of those. 

Spinning to face the bar again you caught the bartenders attention to order another drink and a gruff voice spoke up from next to you that he would be paying for your drink. A false smile coated your face as you turned to thank him and you made sure to show off the ring on your left hand as you finished the first drink. As the man gave you a smug smile you knew you had him exactly where you wanted him.

He turned out to be a ridiculously easy mark, caring more about impressing a stranger who he thought he could fuck than keeping his mouth shut about his views. It was only after you got the information you needed to relay to Senator Organa that Obi-Wan swooped back in. His arm sliding around your waist and he pulled you close to him had the stranger grumbling as the two of you excused yourselves. To keep up appearances you made your way around the ballroom once before sneaking out. You weren't going to lie the two drinks had you speaking a bit more freely than normal which led to several bouts of unrestrained laughter from the two of you as you made your way back to your quarters, Obi-Wan’s arm never leaving the comfortable way he had it wrapped around your waist. 

When you reached the doors Obi-Wan hesitated and you tilted your head at him in confusion. There was a pause before he spoke, "I know throughout our years we've both strived to best each other and given that you are a fierce competitor I wouldn't have it any other way. However, I enjoyed tonight and how easy it was with you."

You simply smiled and entwined your hands, pulling him into your quarters for the night. Once the door slid shut you pulled him into another soft kiss, this time it was short and sweet, leaving a tender smile on both of your faces. 

It seemed there were many unspoken things left to be said but for tonight as the two of you lay on opposite sides of the bed (both of you had refused to let the other sleep on the couch) nothing else needed to be said. It wasn't long before you had rolled over and scooted close to the center with Obi-Wan following shortly after. As he wrapped you up in a cozy embrace you nuzzled into his chest, sleep nearly overtaking you but you couldn't let him go to sleep without a teasing reminder of, "I hope you know this won't make me go easy on you when we spar. I'll still have no problem beating you." A chuckle rumbled in Obi-Wan's chest as he muttered something that suspiciously sounded like 'you can certainly try'.

#obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan kenobi x you #obi wan kenobi x y/n #star wars fanfiction #reader insert #obi wan kenobi #obi-wan x reader #obi-wan x you #obi wan x y/n

[ironmandeficiency]

new pronouns for the himbo

hey y’all! tiny announcement for ya, i now go by they/he/she pronouns! it’s even harder to mispronoun me now 😂 i added them to my bio & about me post in order of what i’m most comfortable with but i don’t care one way or the other, don’t feel pressured to use a specific one 💕

yes i’m hoarding these pronouns like a dragon, what abt it?

tagging some mutuals & friends under the cut

@obirain @mxsamwilson @dameronology @clonewarslover55 @leias-left-hair-bun @mudhornchronicles @felucians @filthybookworm @cherry-cokes-world @scribbledghost @themarcusmoreno @miraclemoreno @goldafterglow @a-dorin @longitud-de-onda @dindjarindiaries @ezrasarm @thewayofthemandalorian @kaminobiwan @blue-space-porgs @roamalongwithme @royalhandmaidens @veracruz-djarin @ollovae3 @huliabitch @bitchin-beskar @max--phillips @hellotherekenobi @senator-nahberries @valkyrieofthehighfae @capricornrabies @kiwi-the-first @the-purity-pen @ohnopoe @everyhowlmarksthedead @pettyprocrastination @autumnleaves1991-blog @pedropasscals @din-damn-djarin @dindja @tintinwrites @this-cat-is-dea @battletales @engineeredfiction @alderaani @thealluringsink @jadetheaverage @catsnkooks @klay97 @majorshiraharu

#announcement #jj’s on the dumb bitch juice #pronoun change #they/he/she

[ccinagalaxyfaraway]

Mayhaps... a senator au if you feel up to it? where plo koon is the senator for dorin, and the wolfpack is assigned as a guard for him for a negotiation mission or something of the like, whatever you want :)

“It would be most shameful if something were to happen to you during these negotiations, Senator,” says the Chancellor. “Especially since you’re overseeing them on our behalf. I won’t think of it. You must accept protection.”

Plo resists the urge to roll his eyes. He’s at home; his face is uncovered. But oh, he would love to. “Chancellor, I am fully capable of looking after my own safety. My staff -”

“Are unfamiliar with the territory. These are dangerous times, Senator Koon.”

“I am aware,” Plo says. If he had teeth, they would be grinding. May you trod on plastic children’s toys, he thinks sourly.

“It’s settled, then. I know just the men for the job. The 104th Wolfpack Battalion will join you for the duration.”

“The what -? An entire battalion is excessive! Absolutely not.” He is a very private person by nature; the thought of having so many people around devoted to knowing where he is and what he is doing at all times is intolerable. Not to mention the stares and whispers that tend to follow his people wherever they go; it’s not a secret that most of the galaxy considers them unattractive at best. 

But the Chancellor has already signed off, his hologram winking out of existence. Plo starts a cycle of deep breathing. His sister the Sage swears it’s helpful. He thinks it’s banthashit.

 ---

Commander Wolffe, after whom the battalion is presumably named, is a stern approaching-middle-age man with a scar over the right side of his face. The cybernetic eye tracks Plo briefly before syncing with the Commander’s natural eye again; Plo pretends not to notice. 

“Senator Koon,” says the Commander, saluting and staring over Plo’s shoulder instead of at his masked face. “We’re to be your protection detail while you mediate discussions.” 

“Please call me Plo,” he says, offering a bow. “It will be a long week if we stand on formality the entire time. May I ask who else I have the honor of meeting?” 

The Commander introduces his personal squad - now Plo’s constant companions - and Plo bows to each of them in turn. “I do apologize to be the cause of this diversion. Please do tell me if there’s anything I can do to make this assignment easier on you; I am accustomed to coming and going as I please, but I understand changes will have to be made. We can discuss the details in the office.”

He leads the way through the hallways. “You’ll have full access to the ship, barring personal quarters, and an emergency override to my quarters should the need arise. My staff have been instructed to provide you with anything you require; there should be ship layouts and a preliminary intelligence report on our destination and relevant factions waiting for you. You are, of course, welcome to use the ship systems. Accounts can be set up with no difficulty.” 

“That is . . . very generous, sir,” says the Commander. “Thank you.” 

Plo shrugs. “Everyone starts somewhere. Let us say I am reasonably well acquainted with being on the other side of this arrangement, and how obstructive a client may be.” 

“You’re a soldier,” says the Commander with some surprise as they pause in front of Plo’s office while he keys in a code. Two of the men - Comet and Boost - take up positions at either side of the doorway. 

“Something like that, once upon a time,” says Plo. He stands aside so Sinker can clear the space and pick his spot on the inside of the door before entering, Commander Wolffe trailing behind him. “Please, have a seat. Now, how may I help you with your arrangements?”

---

The clone troopers are less of an imposition than Plo had expected them to be; they’re generally willing to allow Plo to have his freedom, even if they accompany him everywhere but the fresher and to bed. By the time they arrive at neutral ground, the shifts have been worked out and aside from Commander Wolffe’s presence as his shadow, things are almost normal. And even that isn’t altogether unenjoyable; the Commander has a dry wit and a general lack of tolerance for nonsense that aligns well with Plo’s own sense of humor. It’s like having someone to give voice to all the things he wishes he could say himself but can’t due to his position.

It doesn’t hurt that the Commander has had zero discernible thoughts whatsoever about his appearance. The few times they’ve made skin-to-skin contact, the Commander has been carefully, deliberately blank; clearly he’s done his research. It makes for a more cordial relationship, not being bombarded with opinions on things he can do nothing about. Every morning, he waits for Plo at the door to his quarters and escorts him to breakfast before proceeding to the conference hall. A half day of discussions later, they go to lunch, which Plo picks his way through around his mask while the Commander watches, and then back to negotiating. Afterwards, he brings Plo back to his quarters with a reminder to call if he wants to go anywhere, declines to join Plo for any kind of refreshment, and disappears to wherever he goes when Plo isn’t in public. 

Plo wonders if he ever eats. He has to; he’s not a droid. But unless he’s downing 4500 calories in one sitting after shift, he needs food during the day and he isn’t getting it. The rest of the men switch out at least; Wolffe is never out of reach. The most he’s ever managed to get the man to accept is a mug of unadulterated caf. It can’t be healthy. Not, of course, that it’s any of Plo’s business. 

Still.

The end of the week comes sooner than Plo expects with everything running so smoothly; so of course, the Separatists choose to attack on the last day. The explosion throws the room into chaos, smoke and fire spreading from the blast. Wolffe pulls him into his chest, curling around him even as he draws his pistols, snapping orders at his men. Plo makes himself as small as possible, trying to keep out of the way. 

After the first brief exchange with the droids, Wolffe shuffles them both towards Comet, who’s already radioed out for help in case the smoke wasn’t enough to tip someone off. “We were this close,” he complains, throwing a charge pack at Boost. 

“I know,” Plo mumbles. “I’d so wanted to tell the Chancellor I-told-you-so.”

“That eager to be rid of us?” Wolffe asks, eyebrow raised.

“Not you in particular, Commander,” Plo says, though Wolffe’s grin says he’s only teasing. “Just perhaps the rest of your battalion. Which I maintain is overkill for one unimportant expansion region senator.”

“Bet you’re glad we’re around now, though,” says Comet, whose informality endeared him to Plo on day one.

“I can’t dispute that,” Plo says. He ducks as more blaster fire strikes their cover. 

“We only have to make it -”

“ETA ten minutes,” Comet supplies.

“-until extraction,” says Wolffe. “Keep your head down and things will be fine.”

Plo nods and throws his arms around his head, wishing he’d brought a sound dampener. 

“Be ready to move,” Wolffe orders. Boost lays down cover fire for them as they run for the door, Comet ahead and Sinker behind, and Wolffe at his side. They’ve almost made it out when a second blast throws them into a wall. Plo gasps weakly, rolling onto his side, the world spinning. Wolffe has already climbed to his feet and is fighting a droid, his movements wild and uncontrolled; blood trickles from the side of his head. He misses a blow, staggers, and the droid catches him by the neck, lifting him into the air. Wolffe chokes, scrabbling at the droid’s arm for leverage, kicking to no avail, dying. 

That cannot be allowed to happen. Plo grasps around for a weapon. Anything. All there is is drywall and rubble. He focuses on a shard of stone. Reaches. The shard remains just out of reach. It can’t be. It won’t be. He clenches his jaw. 

The shard launches into the air, rocketing past Wolffe and into the droid’s head. Wolffe drops to the ground and kicks it away as it begins sparking. He staggers over to Plo and drops to his knees beside him. 

“What,” he gasps,” was that?”

“Learned it from my sister,” says Plo, right before he passes out.

---

By the time Plo recovers from his Force-exhaustion, cleanup is well underway and they are halfway back to Coruscant. When he steps out of his quarters, Wolffe is one of the men standing guard at the door. Wolffe salutes, and Plo dips his head. They walk to the mess in companionable silence Plo makes a cup of tea and a mug of caf and collects an assortment of fruit and pastry. 

“Would you join me?” he asks, taking a seat in the booth. Wolffe studies him, a new curiosity in his eyes, and then acquiesces. He sits stiffly, picture perfect for an army etiquette guide. 

“It’s been an eventful end to the week,” Plo says. “I’d wanted to thank you for your protection.”

“Just doing our job, Senator,” says Wolffe. He doesn’t sound, strictly speaking, as though that was the only thing he had been doing.

“Nevertheless, a job well done deserves recognition,” says Plo. He nudges the plate closer to Wolffe. “Please don’t feel like you have to stand on formality with me. You’ve seen how I am with my staff.”

Wolffe hesitates a moment and then caves, selecting a cluster of berries. Plo smiles. “I hope this diversion hasn’t cut into your original plans, Commander.”

“No. Just shifted back a week. If I may, sir, I had a question.” He studies Plo. “At the hall. You used the Force?”

“I did.”

“But you’re not a Jedi.”

“I am not.” He chuckles. “My family is frequently gifted with these abilities. Mine are not so prominent that my parents felt they could not handle me, and I was rather fascinated with systems as a child. When the Master Jedi asked if I wished to be trained, I declined in favor of continuing my studies at home. And so, here we are.” He spreads his hands.

“Here we are,” Wolffe echoes. “I should be thanking you for saving my life.”

“I could hardly do otherwise when I had the ability to help. And if I’m entirely honest, I’ve become rather fond of you in the last week,” Plo says. Wolffe’s eyes linger on him. He decides to take the chance. “Please feel free to refuse, but might I ask for the honor of your company at dinner?”

Wolffe’s lips twitch. “I am afraid I must decline, Senator,” he says. Plo lets out a self-depreciating puff. “However - I’m off-duty once I’ve reported in on Coruscant, and I have no plans other than to kill time with paperwork in an office. You might have better luck then.”

“I see,” says Plo. “Please do eat, Commander. I’m not at all collecting information on your preferences.”

Wolffe smiles and pops a berry into his mouth.

#plo koon #commander wolffe #plowolffe #swcw #promptfic #cocoeast

[prongsisabadger]

TWP Chapter 23

Things seemed to be going according to plan. When we were notified of Vindi's capture at least. T.H. and I had finished booby trapping the northern exit and were now trarting the last sweep of the lab that Master Kenobi had ordered. We were to find and terminate any surviving droids and secure the facility so that the GAR could seize the lab's assets. Everything had been going smoothly, until someone reported one last capsule missing. A capsule that contained the virus.

Senator Amidala informed us that Vindi had given it to a droid and that it most likely still had it. So the entire place was placed on lockdown. Comms were alive with chatter and new orders were being relayed down the chain of command. Every hatch was secured, the corridors to those that had been blown up in our attack were sealed, and within less than two minutes, the entire facility was closed off to the galaxy. And most of our troops were still inside. As soon as everything was closed, a tremor shook the entire place and knocked a lot of us off balance. The droid had set off the bomb.

The laboratory's safety measures kicked in and blast doors started to close down on safety rooms. I yelled at my partner to run for the nearest one, but we were right in the middle of the facility and all safety rooms were at least three corridors away. We run anyway. All around us doors were being closed and the feeling of being chased by an unbeatable enemy grew as we grew closer to the nearest safety room.

When we rounded the corner, Senator Amidala and Representative Binks were running through the threshold as well. The door closed down on the safety room as the Senator turned and saw us, eyes wide in surprise and desperation. We were locked out. Behind us, a wave of blue smoke approached with the speed of a Kaminoan wave. I put my mask on as fast as I could and turned the filter on for toxins before T.H and I were swallowed by it. It was ironic, such a deadly and unstoppable virus that closed in on you with the ferocity of facing your worst fears; but when you closed your eyes, it felt like a warm summer breeze on the skin -soft, tender, loving.

"Please tell me your helmet filters toxins as well as smoke." I begged my partner without turning to face him.

He didn't answer. He didn't have to.

Comms went wild with activity, superiors checking in with their troops, making sure the dignitaries were alive, trying to confirm the virus had been contained. I took the built in earpiece out of the comms device attached to my left forearm and put it on. I didn't want anyone listening in. Not when I knew what would come next. The device in my ear beeped with an incoming message.

"Commander Foreas." I said.

"Kriari, thank the Force, are you okay?" said the voice of my master.

He sounded worried. I didn't blame him, we both knew what this meant.

"T.H. and I didn't make it to the safe room. Clone helmets don't filter toxins, and while mine does, I'm not sure it can filter the Blue Shadow virus.," I told him honestly. "We will hunt down the remaining droids, but Master you need to leave-"

"I don't want to hear it, young one." he interrupted. His voice was strained, like even considering leaving me -all of us- here hurt him physically. "Anakin and I will find a cure."

"Master you need to consider that you won't be able to-"

"I am not leaving you there to die on your own, Kriari. I couldn't live with it, and I'm pretty sure I would have two battalions mutineering if I tried." He tried to joke.

I thought about the Pack, about my friends so many systems away, somewhere on the other end of the galaxy, waiting for me to return.

"If I do die here, it won't be your fault, Master. I want you to know that." I said. "Say you understand."

"I do. If the worst comes to happen, is there something I should tell Master Plo or any of the 104th?" he asked.

"Tell them I'll still have their backs, always."

I cut the conversation short, not wanting my mood to decrease any further. T.H.'s morale would go down even further and we still had a lot to do. I looked at him, he had taken his helmet off and was looking at my face. His expression was somber, but determined. We were going to die, he knew that, but he'd be damned if he showed any weakness now.

"Ready to take it out on all the tinnies left?" I asked him with a grin. Even if he couldn't see it, my eyes crinkled with the gesture.

He returned it and I could see the cold determination in his eyes. He would go down fighting.

"At your side? Any time, Commander." he said putting his helmet back on.

…

We were able to make contact with both Ahsoka's and Rex's teams, they had all made it to a safe room but had been intercepted by droids. They had closed the blast doors a second too late and were now all infected. Some of the men were already showing symptoms, and their physical energy was being depleted way sooner than anyone anticipated. By the time senator Amidala, representative Binks, T.H. and I made it there, Nax was already dead and Waxer was getting weaker by the minute. Both Rex and Ahsoka were infected as well, but they were powering through as best as they could.

We had all made up our minds though. We were finishing the job and making sure the virus stayed inside the lab forever. It didn't matter that we were still inside, we would all give our lives to save the galaxy from a fate even worse than an intergalactic war. We separated into two teams, one Jedi each. The men of the 212th would be coming with me, and Rex and Ahsoka would be going with the digitaries. We would clear out the reminding droids and make sure not a single hatch was opened. I did warn the other team about the boobie traps on the northern hatch so they wouldn't be getting any nasty surprises.

Before we went our separate ways, I took both Ahsoka and Rex aside.

"Take care, you two." I said, patting both their shoulders. "May the Force be with you."

"It was a pleasure, Commander." Answered Rex, saluting me.

"May the Force be with you too, Kriari." returned Ahsoka with a sad smile.

There was no need for more.

I turned to the rest of my team. Waxer, Boil and T.H. were all waiting for orders. I had one wounded man and three infected. One of them was having a harder time dealing with the virus' symptoms already. The chances of us making it out alive were slim, very slim. But still, I couldn't bring myself to remain stoic, cold, unmoving. I wanted them to know that I would be willing to go down with them. I wanted them to know that my life was not worth more than theirs.

So I took my mask off.

They said nothing. they didn't need to. They understood the statement I was trying to make and accepted it. I was dying with them, that day or any other day the Force deemed it. I was going to die there anyway, the chances of our masters finding a cure were almost nonexistent, if the virus didn't kill me then starvation would. I was a walking corpse either way.

As it turns out, there had been a lot of droids left inside the lab that were now trying to escape. Thankfully, most of them were regular battle droids and SBDs, we had taken care of the droidekas already. It doesn't mean the fight was any easier, we were all more lethargic and tired as time went by. The virus affected airways and lungs, so breathing became increasingly difficult, even to those of us who were holding up better than the rest.

I made each member of my team take turns wearing my mask, the less contaminated air they breathed in, the better. It gave each of us a little more energy and clean oxigen every time we wore it, and for the most part, I think it was the thing that saved us in the end. The first of us went down once the last droid was destroyed. Waxer started gasping for air as he tried to hold on to the wall for support. His left hand went up to his neck as if trying to pry his larynx open manually.

I went into healer mode immediately. During my stay in Dorin, I had been taught the basics of Force healing, as well as first aid. The thing is that Dorin had a toxic atmosphere and intoxication was not uncommon, so even if I wasn't technically a healer -or had the makings of one- I knew I could at the very least help him breathe easier.

I instructed them to lay Waxer down on the ground and stripp him off his upper body armor. I put my mask on his face carefully, making sure the airlocks were secure and the filters working correctly. I kneeled down by his side and put one hand on his chest and the other on his forehead. I needed to calm him down enough for his body to relax and not struggle against me when I channeled the Force into his lungs. Waxer's body went limp within seconds, and when I deemed him ready, I moved my other hand to his chest.

It had been a long time since I had attempted to perform this procedure, but I would be damned if I didn't at least try. I focused my attention on his lungs, on his bronchi, on every channel the virus had stuck to and obstructed. And then I tried to persuade the midichlorians within them to fight against the virus. It was slow work, careful, meticulous. One thing was to persuade a mind to do your bidding, another entirely was to persuade organs that work on automatic reflexes. If done wrong, his immune system could detect my presence and deem me a threat. If that happened, I wouldn't be able to persuade it to focus on the virus instead of me. So I decided to do things right. Feel the Force around me, find the light and let it guide me through the process. There was no time for worrying, for what ifs, there was no time or room for anything other than the task at hand and the life, slowly fading before me. My hands tingled with the effort and little droplets of sweat started to form on my forehead and back. I didn't have all the pieces to the procedure, I knew the basics, but I knew in my soul that I wouldn't have called myself a Jedi if I didn't at least try to save this man's life. Because that's what he was, not just another clone, not a replaceable number on a list. A life form with a name, with a story, with a life and friends that cared for him. A person.

I could feel my breathing getting shallow with the effort and the unfiltered air. I could feel myself getting weaker as I used the Force in me to keep Waxer's alive. I could also feel the rest of my team's worry rising. They felt fine, physically at least, if a little tired, but their worry was rising steadily.

"Commander," started T.H. "Your face…"

I didn't answer, I couldn't afford to get distracted. I had finally convinced Waxer's immune system I wasn't its enemy and was now in the process of helping it fight back the virus.

"Comm-"

"Shut up, will you? Can't you see she's trying to focus?" Snapped Boil. "Just keep your eyes peeled for enemies and your ears open for comm chatter."

"She's going to get herself killed if she keeps this up," he insisted.

I tuned out the rest of the conversation after that, the treatment was working, even if it was slow going and consuming every bit of my energy. But it wasn't all me, Waxer's body was doing all of the heavy lifting. He was so strong, fighting so hard. It was his strong will to survive -even when unconscious- that kept me going. He didn't want to die, not yet.

So I wouldn't let him.

The only thing that got me out of my trance was the beeping in my right ear. It was a closed channel.

"I hope you are still there, young one." Said the deep voice of my Master. "It would be a real waste for you to die on me now."

I chuckled in my exhausted state, shedding a few tears of relief.

"I don't think I've ever been happier to hear your voice, Master." I confessed, falling on my backside and attempting to brace myself. I was so sleepy, so exhausted, I wanted to lay down and sleep for a lifetime.

"Hang in there a little more, Kriari. We'll get you out of there. All of you."

I allowed myself to let my tears flow freely as T.H. took a hold of me and Boil helped Waxer sit up. I hid my face in the trooper's shoulder as I exhaled in relief. We were getting out, we were all getting out. I knew Jedi weren't supposed to fear death, be it their own or others', but I felt no guilt then. I couldn't bring myself to feel guilty. I would live to see my friends, my family again, and I couldn't be happier.

#TWP #clone wars fan fiction #star wars the clone wars #plo koon #obi-wan kenobi #commander wolffe #captain rex #ahsoka tano #padawan!oc

[kriffani]

Second Chances (chapter three)

One could classify it as typical teenage angst, but Theo becomes increasingly anxious before even arriving to Alderaan. He fights against himself as he begins to question his capability concerning the weight of both his role in the mission, and his role as a Jedi Padawan.

warnings: mentions of injury (non-fatal), self-deprecating speech

word count: 2.5k

chapter one / chapter two

taglist: @hansoulo @cherrykenobi

Coruscant mornings were cold. Too cold. Theo clutched his canteen and scowled, watching as the steam from his caf billowed up and away into the frigid air. He always brewed it too hot. Obi-Wan often teased him by asking if Theo actually intended to drink “that crude, bitter beverage.” Which to Obi-Wan’s dismay, he did. The padawan yawned. Unable to go back to sleep, he had chosen to have breakfast and go to the hangar early. Too early. This blows. Any other time of day, he would have been delighted to be there. The civilian employees were friendly, and Theo rather enjoyed spending time on his own projects and working alongside them. But it was early morning, and it was obnoxiously cold. Mechanics began to mill about, once in a while tossing Theo a friendly nod or wave, which he politely returned. The hum of electricity filled the air as the overhead lights turned on, signaling the start of a standard work day. 0500, finally. He twisted the cap onto his canteen and clipped it to his pack. Theo stood up and rolled his neck, grimacing as he heard the vertebrae pop. Footsteps sounded from behind him, careful and sure. 

“Good morning, Master.” 

“Good morning, Theo.” Plo raised a brow, taking note of the bags underneath his padawan’s eyes. “It seems you’ve been here for quite some time, are you alright?”

“Physically, or emotionally?” Masking his problems with humor, a skill he had picked up from Obi-Wan. Guilt tugged at him again.

“You’re avoiding the question.” His Master’s tone was as sharp as durasteel. Theo cringed. Okay, none of those jokes today. 

“I know, I know,” he sighed. “It’s just...it’s not the right time to talk about it. We’re about to leave on a mission. It can wait.” Apparently, he hadn’t been as convincing as he’d hoped. Plo narrowed his gaze.

“Is it about your surgical scars? If they are giving you discomfort at this stage, we should--what is so humorous to you?” He planted his hands on his hips, astonished by Theo’s mirthful fit.

“My scars are fine Buir, thanks.” Theo’s lighthearted smile shifted, becoming serious. “Honestly, I’ve been having premonitions. I was planning on talking to you about them sooner rather than later, but I’m going to wait until after the mission to avoid distractions.” Theo gave Plo’s shoulder a reassuring pat, attempting to lift the mood.

“I see, I am relieved that your recovery is still stable.”

“Thank you.” Theo clapped his hands together. “Ready to go, Master Plo?”

“Yes. Have you gone over the plans?” The two Jedi boarded the ship, giving each of the pilots a wave before heading to the common area.

“Not very thoroughly, why?” He drew out the ‘y’ sound, skeptical of where the conversation was going.

“I figured that was the case.” Plo shot him a disapproving once-over. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t be wearing your tunic.”

“I don’t like the sound of that.” Theo laughed nervously.

“You’re not going to be traveling as a Jedi. When we arrive on Alderaan, you will enter the Palace dressed as a pilot. I will leave Alderaan with Senator Organa’s security detail and a decoy, and you will depart with the real Senator. You will travel with him on civilian transport. Alone.”

“Shouldn’t you be the one going on the transport with him? I don’t think I’m suited for that kind of role.” The padawan scratched the back of his head sheepishly.

“No. Kel-Dor rarely travel beyond Dorin, my identity as a Jedi would be rather obvious, and his cover would be lost as well. As for your suitability, we have discussed this. You will be successful unless you allow your humility to become insecurity.” Plo ruffled Theo’s hair, at which the boy ducked away, grumbling in true disgruntled-teenager fashion.

------

This was it. Boredom had completely consumed him, and he was confident that it had been at least three days since they left Coruscant. He felt sluggish. Heavy, and like his soul was oozing out of every pore.

“Master, are we there yet? I’m dying over here.” Theo lay draped over his chair like a despondent child. The effects of his caf had long since worn off, leaving him with his unfiltered brain as his only escape.

“Not yet, we have about two and a half-hours to go.” Plo teased.

“Two and a half hours.” The boy groaned. 

“Your patience is lacking today, Padawan.”

“Well there’s nothing to do! We’ve been in space for over thirteen hours! Thirteen!” Theo threw his hands up. 

“You can meditate.” The Kel Dor chuckled. “It may help cure you of your boredom, or your lack of patience...” he paused “or perhaps you could gain some insight into your premonitions.” Theo blew a raspberry. He wasn’t going to waste his energy trying to fight this battle, Master Plo was probably right anyway--he always was.

“Maybe I can...” He plopped to the floor and sat cross-legged. Theo closed his eyes and breathed in slowly as he attempted to quiet his mind. It didn’t work. Too many thoughts. Head full. 

“Nope. Not today. Brain’s off the walls.” Theo leapt up and dusted his hands off on his thighs. 

“Padawan.”

“I can’t do it, Master.”

“Padawan-”

“It’s too much, I can’t not think.”

“Padawan! You do not have to bear your thoughts alone. Come, sit with me. We shall meditate together.” Theo caved in at his words, and the two Jedi settled to face each other on the floor. 

Theo closed his eyes again, and tried aggressively to will away the visions. 

“Well you’re certainly not going to make any progress in that manner.” Plo hummed. 

“Gee thanks, O Wise One.” Theo huffed and opened an eye to glare at his Master. “I’m fine.”

“Oh I’m sure. That’s why you’re so disagreeable. I was going to offer to help you, but if you don’t want it…” If Kel-Dor were physically able to do so, Plo Koon would have been smirking.

“I do! It’s just...” He sighed. “I’ve been a padawan for four years, I should be able to handle something as basic as meditation.” 

“One can struggle regardless of how much training they have had. I am offering to help you because you need it. Try to have a little more patience with yourself, and with me.”

“Alright, Master.” Attempting to relax for a third time, he felt as though he were laying on hot, itchy sand. 

“Allow the Force to surround you, allow yourself to become one with it.” He felt Plo’s presence at the edge of his consciousness, almost as if he were knocking to come in. Theo opened the door, lulled into a state of serenity by the fading voice of his mentor. Plo had been the only real constant in his life, an entity of stability and comfort. Theo wasn’t sure whether or not he was too attached to Plo. His mind wandered to Jango again. The Mandalorian was a loyal man, a good friend, and a comically incompetent guardian. The bounty hunter would often leaving Theo to await his return alone, stating that his destination was “no place for di’kutla little kids.” He would be gone for days. Or weeks. Or forever. Master Plo wasn’t like that. Since the moment Theo began learning at the Temple, Plo Koon had been by his side. For every stumble, error, hesitation, or lapse in judgement that Theo made, his Master had been there to balance him, steady, patient, reassuring and forgiving. Theo saw him as a father, and he wasn’t very subtle about it. 

------

Two years ago:

    “Kriff it all!” A powerpack and two hydrospanners clattered to the hangar floor as Theo threw the medkit back onto the tool cart.

“You cannot fix everything, little one.” Plo stood with his arms crossed, staring firmly at the petulant padawan before him.

“Well…” He scoffed, “I should be able to!” He angrily tore open the package with his teeth and wrapped the bacta patch around his finger.

“There will always be things that need fixing. Your work would never be finished.” Plo Koon had proved himself to be exceedingly tolerant. This was Theo’s fifth fit of anger this week alone, and most other Masters would have likely deemed him unfit for apprenticeship by now.

“What’s the point if I can’t do it? I’m worthless!” Theo growled.

“You are not. You are learning. Mistakes are opportunities for reflection and improvement. They are to be embraced.”

“But--”

“Theo, it does not serve you to be afraid of mere possibilities.” 

“But what’s the blasted point of even trying if I know there’s a mere possibility I’m gonna mess it up?” The boy wailed.

“That’s not certain, and if it was, it wouldn’t be the end of all things. It’s quite foolish to demand constant perfection of yourself. Your worth is not measured by what you accomplish.” Plo reasoned. Where is all of this suddenly coming from, he wondered. Is it something I said? No...I’ve been careful with him.

“But what if I do it wrong and it malfunctions? I don’t want you to die because of me! I can’t...I won’t...” He had done it again. Suddenly, Theo’s Jedi-issue boots were incredibly interesting. Had they always been brown leather? (Yes, they had.) The Code was the very first thing he learned, and somehow he managed to be painfully bad at following it properly. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no death, there is the Force. He was definitely in for it this time. Theo braced himself for a lecture, but was surprised to feel a gentle pressure on his shoulders when Plo knelt down in front of him.

“Padawan, look at me.” The Kel-Dor spoke softly. No response. He sighed. “Look at me. It is crucial that you know this.” The boy glanced up, just briefly enough to be satisfactory. “You are capable, clever, strong-willed, and kind. You will become a remarkable Jedi.” Theo nodded, posture softening. 

“Thank you.” He mumbled.

“I don’t expect you to properly repair a carbon compressor on your first attempt, especially not alone. And I trust your ability to correctly perform repairs that you are familiar with. Alas, you must learn them first.”

“Makes sense...I think I got caught up in everything I already knew.”

“It happens to all of us.”

“I’m sorry. I used you as an outlet, you didn’t deserve it.” Theo drew his lip between his teeth.

“I understand your frustration and you need not apologize further. Now, let us not linger on the past, we must finish fixing this carbon compressor.” Plo turned the boy around to face the ship. “This time, be sure not to tighten the bolt with too much force. That’s how accidents like this” he jested, pointing to Theo’s bandaged finger, “happen. The quartered socket spanner would also be a more suitable tool for this particular task, as the angle will give you better leverage.”

“Oh, that’s much easier. I see now! Thanks, Buir.”

------

The ship lurched, snapping the two Jedi out of their meditation, and Theo grumbled in protest. He rather liked that memory.

“Apologies for the disturbance, sirs, but we’ve entered the Alderaan system.” Captain Thorn’s voice crackled through the intercom, signaling their imminent return to duty.

“So Master, I know about the mission, but what about Senator Organa himself? What’s he like?” Theo hadn’t met very many politicians. He knew of Senator Padme Amidala from Anakin’s stories, and he had met Chancellor Palpatine on several occasions, but that was about it. 

“Senator Bail Organa is a just man. He is a pacifist with an affinity for ethics, I believe you’ll like him. Especially since he’s one of the people responsible for the Galactic Rights Bill.” Plo picked up his cloak and draped it over his shoulders.

“I’ve been really busy lately with my Shyriiwook comprehension exam coming up, and I kinda haven’t been paying as much attention to politics as I should, care to refresh me?” The padawan flashed a sheepish grin, provoking a weary sigh from the Kel-Dor.

“This Bill would safeguard an individual’s right to self-expression. It would be effective immediately, and has the power to overrule the local laws of star systems and planets. It is crucial for the safety of minority groups who may be targeted for superficial things such as appearance or use of a dialect. Those who would most benefit from this are religious groups and those with an atypical relationship to traditional social roles in their respective societies.”

“That last part sounds so...scripted. Was that a quote?” Theo asked, as the two began to make their way toward the front of the ship.

“From the Bill itself, yes. The section it belongs to was written by Senator Organa.” Plo explained.

“How is the Bill going to be effective? What kind of ‘targeting’ are we talking about? Harassment, refusal of service, homicide?”

“All, and more. However, the most pressing concern and reason for urgency lies in denial of medical care. Over the last several centuries, there have been an increase of differences in socio-cultural interpretations of identity across the galaxy. In some places, this is a catalyst for conflict and consequently, there have been a total of around five hundred cases across thirty-four systems just last year. One thing the Bill is designed to do is prevent governments or medical organizations from prohibiting access to medicine and care on the basis of these differences.”

“I see, and I take it that this is seen as a problem by some because they disagree with any views that differ from their own, or because of money.” Theo glowered. 

“As it is with most ‘debates’ on such things.”

“It’s cowardly.” 

“Indeed.” The door to the bridge slid open, and Theo’s chagrin was almost forgotten. Alderaan was beautiful. The city of Aldera sat nestled neatly in a valley and surrounded by tall, snowy peaks. It was exactly as described in the stories he’d heard from older padawans. 

“Wow, what a place.” He murmured.

“Right?” The co-pilot turned to flash the Jedi a grin. Theo nodded in agreement. She gave him a breathy laugh. “I’ve never been here either, I was just short of giddy when we heard what our next assignment would be!” He now understood what Master Yoda meant when he called all beings “luminous.” She certainly was. I’ll probably never see her again after this, that’s really too bad. 

“We’re approaching the city. Juno, prep the landing gear.”

“Yes, Captain!” She chirped. 

“Well Master, looks like I’d better get ready. See you shortly.” Theo didn’t wait for a response before he slipped back into the other room. When he returned a few moments later, his discomfort was visible. Plo restrained himself from poking fun at his student, but oh, he really wanted to. 

“Man, civilian clothes just don’t feel right.” The boy whined, tugging at the sleeves. Theo scrunched his nose in disgust when they didn’t loosen. “How long do I have to wear this?”

“Not long, we’ve arrived. Take your pack with you and remember, be subtle.”

#its finally fucking here #tcw #plo koon #sw oc #sw fanfic #sw x oc #star wars #the clone wars #its real dad plo hours #if i have typos or grammar mistakes pls lmk i die every time