Jedi Council Forums - 2008 Saga Fanfic Awards Excerpt Thread (Voting begins!)

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Author	Topic: 2008 Saga Fanfic Awards Excerpt Thread (Voting begins!)
SagaFanficAwards Title: Fanfiction Awards Sock: The Saga Registered: Jun '06	Date Posted: 6/24/08 12:58pm Subject: 2008 Saga Fanfic Awards Excerpt Thread (Voting begins!) - Date Edited: 7/20/08 5:20pm (5 edits total) Edited By: The_Face
	Welcome to the 2008 Saga FFA Excerpt thread! The following posts are filled with bits and pieces of what you all have decided to be the cream of the crop Saga has offered since last summer. You'll note at the bottom of some of the posts "TBC", this means that there are more excerpts from this category in the post below. Place markers are at the top of each post. They are color-coded with a rotating set of headers; thus, you can remember that the last category you read was black and yellow in color and when you scroll down through the page it will be easy to catch. So sit back, relax, and enjoy the excerpts! And since the voting round starts on July 6th, a few reminders: VOTING PROCESS: 1) Select which of the fics from the qualifying list you would like to vote for. 2) Send in your votes in ONE PM. 3) You may use the template below for your votes, but it is not necessary since we don't need the links to the stories at this point. 4) You will NOT receive a confirmation PM regarding your votes. If you do not receive a PM from the awards sock within 24 hours of your PM being read, then you did everything correctly. VOTING RULES: 1. You must register prior to voting, so that we ensure that you are not a sock. Registration will be open through the voting period. 2. No voting with a sock. Voting with a sock WILL result in a short-term ban and none of your votes will be allowed. 3. You may vote only once in each era, in one PM as stated earlier. If you send your votes in multiple PMs, they will not be counted. The only exception will be on a case-by-case basis, per information given to you by THIS SOCK only. 4. Voting is open from July 6 at 12:01 AM board time until July 15 11:59 PM board time. Late votes will not be counted at all--no exceptions. Early votes will be returned and you will be expected to send your vote in again under the correct timeline. No exceptions. See rule 7 if you will not be available during the voting period. 5. PM the Saga Fanfic Awards Sock sock with your vote. Votes sent elsewhere will not be counted. 6. Only fics on the Qualifying List are eligible for votes. Votes for other fics will not be counted. 7. If you will not be available or internet-accessible during the voting time period, arrange with the host, KrystalBlaze, for absentee voting. This must be arranged ahead of time, before the nomination period ends. Those needing an absentee ballot will follow all of the voting rules. 8. You cannot vote for yourself. Votes for yourself will not be counted. And in case you forgot who qualified: Genre Best Alternate Universe In Plain Sight by Furrylittlebantha Sense and (In) Sensibility by AnakinsFavorite This Time Around by Idrelle_Miocovani Best Canon Pieces of Air by Knight_Aragorn Respite by JadeLotus The Last Twilight by cdmcc What The Heart Hides Valairy_Scot Best Action Galaxy Noir: Galaxy of Suspects by The_Face Puragtory by Helen_Taft Blue Sun Down by Darth_Marrs What the Heart Hides by Valairy_Scot Best Drama Eluding Order Sixty-Six by Pallas-Athena Never Fall in Love with a Stranger by Gina The Way by Thumper09 Veil of Shadows by ViariSkywalker Best Romance A Tapestry Wide and Wonderful by VaderLVR64 A Simple Twist of Fate by Gabri_Jade The Love of a Prince by Lady_Jade Never Fall In Love With A Stranger by Gina Best Humor Braken Starblaster, Space Attorney by The_Face Beauty and the Brained by DarthIshtar Weekend at Windu's by VaderLVR64 “THE STARR WORS” by 1Yodimus_Prime The Once And Future Sith Lord by Jaya Solo Freeze-Frame by dianethx Vader's no good, horrible, really stinky day by Jade_Pilot Best All Around The Consort by Anakins_Favorite For the Love of the Queen by JediMasterRev Blue Sun Down by Darth_Marrs For Such a Time as This by Master_Noi This Time Around by Idrelle_Miocovani The Love of a Prince by Lady_Jade Nobody’s Baby by divapilot Style Most Underrated In Absentia by DarthIshtar The Journal of Loch Thrindarr by celine The Last Twilight by cdmcc Imperial Allegiance: Vale Death by Darth_Manion Veil of Shadows by ViariSkywalker The Coming Storm by Quigonjecca Scars of Discipline by ardavenport Who I Am by MsLanna The Tale of Jorec Merridon by whiskers A Thousand Different Ways by DarthIshtar Sand Angel by Jaya Solo The broken shell by HekilledYounglings Best Response To A Challenge A Simple Twist of Fate by Gabri_Jade Lyssophobia by Meredith_Kenobi NastyCops Inc. by Luton_Plunder Nobody’s Baby by divapilot Best Songfic The Warriors by Anakin_Heartbreaker Desire by LilyHobbitJedi Gravity by LilyHobbitJedi Gather Round All You Clones by Alexis_Wingstar Mothers of the Desert by QuiGonJecca The Hands of Time by Anakins_Kiss Threads of a Broken Heart by Spyman290 She’s So High by ccp Kissing A Fool by JmsBndGrl Leave The Memories Alone by Gina Best Poem What Am I Even Doing Here? by brodiew In the Moonlight by Katana_Geldar Cinderelleia -- A Star Wars Christmas Panto by bi0nic A Chain of Reflections by Obi-Waan_Kenobi Stars by Quigonjecca Unbreakable by DarthIshtar A Tribute to the Mods by TrulyGhent Best Crossover Blue Sun Down by Darth_Marrs Guitar Hero by LilyHobbitJedi Everybody Lies by LilyHobbitJedi All Safe Places by MsLanna Unleashed by JadeMax_and_Brentus Best Short Story Portrait of a Lady by Gina Must Hate Ewoks by DarthIshtar Pieces of Air by KnightAragorn Best Epic This Time Around by Idrelle_Miocovani What the Heart Hides by Valairy_Scot The Consort by AnakinsFavorite Best Vignette One Last Time by JediNemesis Before She Died by VaderLVR64 Freeze-Frame by Dianethx Gifts of the Heart by Valairy_Scot Best Series A Twin Suns Romance, Part I: Dropping In and A Twin Suns Romance, Part II: Barren by Alexis_Wingstar Wife of Deceit: In Love and Truth and Taken for Granted by DarthIshtar Kelia’s Drabble Thread by KELIA Changing an Order and Restoring Order by Jaya Solo Through A Mirror Darkly and Kaleidoscope by leia_naberrie The Naboo Chronicles Series (The Naboo Chronicles and For the Love of the Queen) by JediMasterRev To Cast Away Stones and To Gather Stones Togetherby DarthIshtar The User: 1 SIn , The User: 2 Premediated, and The User: 3 Metalegacies by Luton_Plunder The senator's wife by Indiefic Character Best Canon Interpretation, Male Luke Skywalker Pieces of Air by Knight_Aragorn Obi-Wan in What the Heart Hides by Valairy_Scot Palpatine in Wife of Deceit: In Love and Truth by DarthIshtar Best Canon Interpretation, Female Mara in In Plain Sight by Furrylittlebantha Padmé in Never Fall in Love with a Stranger by Gina Leia Organa in To Gather Stones Together by DarthIshtar Siri Tachi in What the Heart hides by Valairy_Scot Jaina Solo in This Time Around by Idrelle_Miocovani Beru in A Child of My Own by VaderLVR64 Best Original Character, Male Garmonsaw in In Plain Sight by Furrylittlebantha Rory Sonnader in Grá máthar by correllian_ale Chase Barton in The Way by Thumper09 Remy Diabet in Galaxy Noir: Galaxy of Suspects by The_Face Pat Cakkerion Nobody’s Baby by divapilot Best Original Character, Female Amne in Wife of Deceit: In Love and Truth by DarthIshtar Palai Cerunna in Moonwater Perfume: A Courtesan's Tale by leiamoody Jeanice “Keys” Keyston, The User (1:3) ‘Metalegacies’ by Luton_Plunder Lyestra in Broken Wings by VaderLVR64 Fianna in Before She Died by VaderLVR64 Best Child Leia Organa in Daddy in Training by Alexis_Wingstar Dak in The Consort by AnakinsFavorite Jaeylin in Never Fall in Love with a Stranger by Gina Fianna in Before She Died by VaderLVR64 Luke in Little Moments by Jade_Pilot Best Non-Human Jav Yonx in Galaxy Noir: Galaxy of Suspects by The_Face Grievous in This Time Around by Idrelle_Miocovani Yoda in Little Blue Chip by Quigonjecca Milin Ba’hon in Root and Weed by Thumper09 Cheedak in Cheedak's Last Hunt by NarCranor Yoda in For Such a Time as This by Master_Noi Tack in The User by Luton_Plunder Best Villain Xanatos in No Legacy So Rich by Magier Palpatine In Plain Sight by furrylittlebantha Palpatine in The Consort by AnakinsFavorite Best Ensemble Cast For the Love of the Queen by JediMasterRev Blue Sun Down by Darth_Marrs This Time Around by Idrelle_Miocovani What the Heart Hides by Valairy_Scot Betrayal by Dianethx Author Best Author Valairy_Scot JediMasterRev Idrelle_Miocovani Knight_Aragorn Best New Author Helen_Taft celine Obi-Waan_Kenobi Quigonjecca Jedi_Perigrine Dana_Skywalker indiefic Best Collaborative Fanfiction! The Musical by LannakinsFavorish Ultra Stressed Jedi Students: Return of the Exchange Program, Round-Robin started by The Musical Jedi Unleashed! by Jade_Max and BrentusofGath (JadeMax_and_Brentus) A Light in the Darkness by Kelia-Lilly And remember, questions and concerns can always be addressed to KrystalBlaze. -----signature----- Official Sock for the 2008 FFA--Saga Edition Have questions about the awards? PM us!
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SagaFanficAwards Title: Fanfiction Awards Sock: The Saga Registered: Jun '06	Date Posted: 6/24/08 12:58pm Subject: RE: 2008 Saga Fanfic Awards Excerpt Thread - Date Edited: 7/2/08 6:20pm (7 edits total) Edited By: SagaFanficAwards
	Best AU This Time Around by Idrelle_Micovani A/N: Jaina and Obi-Wan encounter a Sith Lord who can control the powers of time. Jaina could feel bile rising in her throat. She watched as the shadow solidified, turning into a tall man, hooded and cloaked. She could not see is face, but his presence in the Force was staggering. The Dark side was everywhere. Jaina raised her lightsaber and activated it. “You,” she said, “are a murderer.” She lunged towards him, the violet blade steady in her hand. The previous exhaustion she had felt had disappeared; she was full of new energy. Jaina was three feet away from her enemy when he raised a pale hand. The action was lazy, casual even. Suddenly, she felt herself being thrown across the cavern, flying high up in the air and tumbling down, down, down… “JAINA!” She cried out, then gritted her teeth and reached out with the Force, trying to slow her velocity. The floor rose up to meet her and she landed, hard, on the stone. The wind was knocked from her lungs. She groaned and winced, trying to ignore the pain as she rose to her feet and began to limp towards her enemy, one hand clutching her side. Obi-Wan had watched her being hurled through the air. After seeing her rise, he turned his attention to the cloaked man. He approached him with caution, searching for weaknesses. Their opponent, however, dismissed this tactic with a sigh. He raised a hand; blue lightning crackled out from his fingertips, striking Obi-Wan in the chest and sending him flying half-way across the cavern. The cloaked man stood quite still, having hardly moved an inch since the battle had begun. He watched as Obi-Wan struggled to rise. “Remember this lesson, Obi-Wan Kenobi,” he said. “You are weak. The Jedi are weak. That is their downfall – they cannot comprehend all aspects of the Force, and thus are powerless in the face of one who can. That is why the Sith have triumphed – and will always triumph, for all eternity.” “Never!” Jaina shouted, urging her legs to work as she forced herself to run forwards. She charged at her enemy, her lightsaber swinging towards her opponent’s head – The blade stopped an inch from the cloaked man’s hooded face. Try as she might, Jaina couldn’t move her blade. It was stuck, trapped; something was holding it in place. She cried out and attempted to swing it, but lost her grip on the hilt. She fell to her knees and looked up; the blade was suspended in mid-air. Suddenly, it was flying across the room, propelled by the Force. She was left defenseless. “You’re attempts are useless, Jaina Solo,” the shadow hissed. “You are not powerful enough. You do not have the strength to overcome my powers.” He raised his hand again and clenched his fist. Jaina gasped. Pain unlike anything she had ever felt before was coursing through her body. She collapsed, writhing on the floor. Every cell in her body ached; her face contorted with pain. Tears leaked from her eyes as she panted for air, moaning in agony. “And so, Jaina Solo,” the shadow said, “you die.” “I’m afraid you are mistaken,” a calm voice interrupted. Jaina twisted her head around and looked up; Obi-Wan, bruised and battered, was standing behind the cloaked man, his lightsaber burning brightly in his hand. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes were very calm. Before the shadow had time to react, he plunged his lightsaber through the cloaked man’s back. The shadow screamed. He stumbled, falling forwards – and with a terrible, brutal sound, the air around him ripped open. Wind whistled through the cavern, tearing at her hair, at her clothes. The flames on the tops of the pillars in the cavern blew out. For a brief moment, Jaina looked into the heart of the whirling cyclone that was Time – the burning lights, the roaring sounds, so familiar from her own trip through the wormhole – and then the shadow fell into the vortex and sealed the portal behind him. The wind immediately faded, as if it hadn’t existed. With a reverberating boom, the entrance to the cavern re-appeared. Jaina collapsed back on the floor. Obi-Wan rushed over and knelt beside her. “Are you all right?” he asked anxiously, helping her sit up. “I’m fine,” Jaina gasped, wincing. She pressed a hand to her side. “It hurts to breathe. I think I might have broken a rib or two.” “Here, let me help you.” Jaina put an arm around his shoulder and let him hoist her back onto her feet. She was too tired to argue. Sense and (In)Sensibility by AnakinsFavorite Summary: In this crossover, Anakin’s daughter has been kidnapped, and he thinks he has figured out who did it. The accused is not the usual suspect… or is it? “Anakin, what is going on?” Obi-Wan finally asked in a very quiet voice. Everyone turned their gaze away from the Chosen One to stare at him. “He,” the young man said, pointing an accusing gloved finger at Yané, “stole my daughter. I demand revenge so that I might get her back.” “Anakin, calm down…” Obi-Wan cautioned, moving forward to place a restraining hand upon his arm. When Anakin pulled his arm away, the man seemed suddenly wearied. “There are other ways to handle this.” “I want my daughter back. Now.” “Anakin, she doesn’t have Ami,” Padmé whispered, shaking her head sadly. She continued to stroke Yané’s back as the girl wept on her shoulder. “Stop scaring her.” Anakin took a step forward, a hungry look in his eyes. Obviously, the Jedi Master was incapable of rational thought- with a feral scream, he suddenly threw himself at Yané, knocking her out of Padmé’s arms and dragging her to the ground. Stunned, Padmé suddenly found herself lying on the floor clutching her chest where he’d hit her. “Anakin! Stop!” she screamed on the top of her lungs until they hurt. “Stop it!” Gone was all fear for her babies- her husband was now on top of the other woman trying to strangle her. “Help me!” Yané choked out as all the Jedi rushed forward to pry off the Chosen One. Rushing to her feet, Padmé realized that, with him in this way, only she could stop him. Raising her tiny fists, she hit at him with all her might… Startled that she would raise a hand to him and that someone had dared to inflict harm upon him, Anakin paused, breathing heavily. His eyes flickered back to blue as he saw her, and there was such pain and betrayal in there… “Let me through, you will,” the gravelly voice of Yoda came as the diminutive Jedi master urged the crowds to part. Upon reaching Anakin, who was still holding onto his writhing victim, the Jedi gave him a hardened look. Anakin was not to be swayed- pursing his lips further, he pointed a finger at Yané. “It’s her! She’s the one that has been h-” “Your lightsaber, I shall have.” Gasping, Padmé moved away from her friend to watch the absolute horror which ripped across her husband’s face. Had he not just tried to strangle an innocent woman, she would have felt more pity for him. “No…” the warrior whispered, taking a step back as if in a daze. The crowd gathered around them prevented him from moving further, so he was trapped. “No, you can’t do this- you don’t understand!” “Do you know the implications of this?” Obi-Wan breathed, looking rather puzzled. “You were just strangling her! Jedi do not do such things!” “B-but she took Ami! I can prove it!” “Prove it you shall not,” Yoda said loudly, drawing the attention back to himself. “Your lightsaber.” Breathing heavily and blinking rapidly to hide his tears, Anakin hesitated before handing over the weapon which had been all but his life for the past dozen years. With it gone, he seemed to stand there naked and, for the first time, he looked at Padmé with such mournfulness that her heart was all but broken into two. “Now go, Anakin.” “I have one last thing which I feel I must say,” Anakin said, obviously having trouble speaking. When the man spoke again, his words were purposefully loud. "If anyone were to wonder where to find me, I have left clues behind for those who seek them." At that moment, Padmé gasped as his gaze flickered to her- something heavy was slipped into her cloak’s pocket. With one last scornful look at the Jedi Masters, the outcast walked through the crowds and out of the Jedi Temple. In Plain Sight by Furrylittlebantha Do not dodge. The voice that echoed in his mind was not a familiar one. It was rich, and dark, and…human, somehow. Luke’s eyes widened, then narrowed. He was no stranger to the unexplained. “Then what do you suggest?” Let go. “Like sith, I’ll let go!” he yelled. The TIE would make impact in less than a minute. He was about to become a simulated scrap heap. If you wish to have a chance, do as I say. Let go of your conscious mind. Trust your feelings. Do not plan; react. “That’s all I’ve been doing! Reacting! I’m very good at it!” Then perhaps it is time you take control of your life. “How!” Let go. Since he was about to fail this simulation anyways, Luke did. He let go. He fell. He released himself completely, as he’d never dared to before. And there was light… ------------------------------------------------ Two days passed before the repercussions of that flight surfaced. Luke knew they would; it was only a matter of time. He said nothing of it to the Emperor. Somehow, the affair did not concern him. Besides, Palpatine probably wouldn’t believe him anyways. The summons came in the golden crevice between afternoon and evening. Luke stood facing a transparisteel wall that looked over the city, his shadow falling long and black behind. Lord Vader requests his presence, they said. He touched the wall, smiled. I know, he said. ------------------------------------------------- “Luke Varewé. Be seated.” It was not a suggestion. Luke sat. The dark lord raised a hand. “Leave us,” he rumbled to the attendants. Within the seconds the room cleared. A thick, expectant silence fell. It was a large room, high-ceilinged, made to look larger still by the stark absence of furniture. Except, of course, for the table. A narrow slab of black marble, it was a meter wide and perhaps three long. Luke sat at one end. Darth Vader sat at the other. They each sat perfectly upright and in perfect silence, staring at each other. Vader gave in first. “Ask your question.” His voice, deep and solid as the marble, seemed to flow through the table to vibrate Luke’s hands. Luke removed them and crossed his arms. “Okay. Where am I?” “That is not the question. However, this is my personal conference hall. I rarely employ it.” “Oh?” A stony silence met him. It was evident that the ball was squarely in Luke’s court now. He licked his lips. This would not be easy. “Why am I here?” “That is the question.” He lowered his head. “Yes.” “Now tell me the answer.” A sick sensation seized Luke’s chest. His head shot up. “I don’t know!” “But you do. You would not be here if you did not.” “I…I…” There were only two items on the table. One was a gleaming white datapad. The other, a goblet of water. Both were in easy reach. He grasped the cup with shaking fingers and downed it, spilling water out the corners of his mouth. It was very cold. After, he wiped his face with the back of his hand. He felt slightly dizzy. “I’m here,” he began. “I’m here…because I don’t understand.” “Go on.” “Because…because I felt something…did something impossible.” “I will finish the answer. You are here because you experienced something you were told did not exist. You were lied to and manipulated. You realize that even now you are still being manipulated—by myself. But yet you are here. Finally, Luke Varewé, you realize that the only way to take control is to let go.” Luke moved to speak and suddenly tasted warm, metallic saltiness. He had bitten through his tongue. “There were stories,” he mumbled. “Rumors. They said you have a power…magic. The Emperor said they were superstitions, rationalizations for your military brilliance.” “Superstition proves accurate more often than one might suppose.” Luke did not hear the words. He was watching the white datapad, now hovering inches above the table. The gauntleted hand three meters away gesturing slightly; end over end, the square piece of plastic floated toward him. He flinched as it neared. “Take it.” Luke did, plucking it gingerly out of the air. “Turn it on.” He did. The screen flickered on. It was blank but for the three words emblazoned in dazzling white against a black background. Trust Your Feelings. For a moment he sat there trembling, the past sliding like sand from under his feet, stomach lurching in the sudden disorientation. And then the moment passed. “What do your feelings tell you, Varewé?” Vader probed. Luke grinned crookedly. “My feelings say…what the hell.” -----signature----- Official Sock for the 2008 FFA--Saga Edition Have questions about the awards? PM us!
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SagaFanficAwards Title: Fanfiction Awards Sock: The Saga Registered: Jun '06	Date Posted: 6/24/08 12:59pm Subject: RE: 2008 Saga Fanfic Awards Excerpt Thread - Date Edited: 6/30/08 12:58pm (6 edits total) Edited By: SagaFanficAwards
	Best Canon What the Heart Hides by Valairy_Scot Obi-Wan Kenobi is dead. The shock of the words still lingered. In the Council chambers high above the Temple, Yoda and Mace Windu sat long after Council adjourned, somber of mien. They had meant to speak of Obi-Wan’s padawan, still in need of guidance and now without the one they most trusted to guide him. Instead, both gazed at the empty chair that Obi-Wan had so recently filled: his easy slouch and crossed legs filling the chair as if he had always belonged there. Humbled by his appointment, Obi-Wan had soon become a dominating presence, his soft spoken voice and quick mind often leading the Council to consensus after consensus after prolonged and contentious debate. The sun was slowly sinking, the last of its light slowly being banished by shadows that crept across the patterned floor and sent hungry tentacles creeping up the empty chair - only to flee, temporarily vanquished, by the last feeble light of the sun. Here in this place, the light had always found Obi-Wan Kenobi. Once, many years before, Padawan Kenobi had stood illuminated in the last of the setting sun’s rays as shadows crept over the master who stood next to him, proclaiming the boy Anakin to be his new apprentice. Never again had Padawan Kenobi stood there. The next time he had stood there, it had been as a knight, the light in and around him stronger than ever, for the padawan had battled both a Sith and the darkness and emerged victorious. Always in the light, Kenobi had been, a steady flame beating against encroaching darkness. So it was only just, only expected, that the last lingering golden shades of the dying day lay over his seat, a reminder of the light that had once shone so brightly. Destined for greatness, Qui-Gon Jinn had once said, rare words spoken by one not given to extravagant claims. Ironic, too, considering the master’s speaking for another apprentice only months later. The brighter the flame, the quicker its ending, so true it seemed, for the Jedi as well as the candle. A far greater light, even, was the “Chosen One.” It was why Yoda and Mace remained, in this place of shadows and light. “He shall be missed,” Mace broke the silence. Few would have heard the faint weariness and heaviness in his tone. “Yes, indeed,” Yoda agreed, a sad swivel of his ears accentuating the words as his tone did not. “By the Order and admit must I by myself too. Sad I am not, for home in the Force he is, yet sorrow I feel.” The sentiment made perfect sense to Mace. “He became a close friend. After Qui-Gon Jinn died, I felt I owed it to my old friend to keep an eye on him as all former masters do on their knighted padawans. I didn’t expect – there were times I almost forgot he wasn’t my old padawan. I valued his friendship, as did you.” “Sad is their legacy. Each padawan reporting the death in battle of his master. Shocked I was when Obi-Wan reported from Naboo. Shocked I am now with this report from Jabiim.” Both masters fell silent as they remembered how eerily similar each report was. Battle – one fallen – a padawan left to grieve; a valued Jedi one with the Force. The Order was bleeding with the steady loss of its best and brightest; the generation growing into leadership and meant to be the Order’s future was slipping instead into the Force. “Tragic this loss is.” Yoda rarely whispered. For a moment, he looked ancient and weathered. A blink of his eyes hid the moment of weakness. “More clouded than ever the future is. Speaks to me not does the Force, in mourning perhaps too it is. Thought I would that young Kenobi’s passing I would feel. Muddled, is all.” “Do you think Obi-Wan’s padawan is right – that Kenobi is alive somehow?” Mace somehow hoped that Yoda was in agreement with Skywalker on this. Yoda had always had some kind of a bond with Obi-Wan, one that been inexplicable to Yoda but present from Obi-Wan’s infancy, as if their fates were somehow intertwined. Fondness and respect had bound the two together, much as the Force had bound master and apprentice together with love and respect. Obi-Wan Kenobi had been a lucky man: he had been bound by deep ties of friendship with Qui-Gon Jinn, Yoda, and Anakin Skywalker, not to mention childhood friends that never grew distant. Few men shared such deep bonds; perhaps the Force had gifted the man with this in recognition of the burdens and trials the Jedi would face. A pause and Yoda slowly shook his head. “Wish to believe I do. Believe, I do not.” Pieces of Air by Knight_Aragorn Pain was all Luke knew the instant he woke: pain filling the universe, destroying everything in its wake. Or so it felt. It took a few minutes for the pain to subside to a level that was, if not exactly manageable, less all-consuming. Luke clenched his teeth, waiting for his vision to clear. He wore a helmet. He was in a vehicle. Not an X-wing. Probably an airspeeder, one of the T-47s. He must have landed badly. The viewscreen was cracked, the controls and the front of the ship buckled. There was snow outside. What else? It felt like there was blood on his face. Numbness – right arm. Pain in his legs. The front of the ship had buckled around him; he was trapped. There was a sound behind him, then. Not the groan of stressed metal; a human sound, harsh breathing. He abruptly remembered: T-47s were manned by a pilot and a gunner. He licked his lips. “Pag?” His voice barely audible. “Pag, you with me?” There was a faint sound from behind, a catch in that breathing. “Right… here.” “How you doing?” “Not… so good.” “Hold on.” Luke blinked, trying to focus on the buckled controls swimming before the cracked visor of his helmet. “… mander?” He was suddenly aware of Pag’s voice, barely audible against the sound of wind outside the fuselage of the ship. “…thought… left me …” “Sorry,” Luke muttered. He must have drifted; how long had he been out? He was shivering. Even in bulky cold-weather wear, the temperature was well below freezing. “ …’s cold,” he said. Blinking at the ruined controls, he tried to locate the environmental systems. His fingers, clad in heavy gloves, wouldn’t seem to obey his instructions at first, but he finally managed to hit the button for warmth. Nothing happened. “… systems’s not working,” he said aloud. “ ’m warm,” Pag said, his voice faint. “Pag?” Luke blinked, alarm forcing him to increased awareness. “Stay with me.” There was no reply. Luke said, “Pag!” “…yeah, yeah.” The other man’s voice was hard to hear. “I’m here.” Luke knew he should try to talk, do something to keep them both alert. He tried to think of something to say. He didn’t know Pag all that well. The man had been with the Rogues a few months. Luke couldn’t even remember where he’d come from. Did he have a family somewhere? He tried to focus enough to ask, but he was so tired, and then he forgot the question. “… can’t feel anymore…” Luke blinked, for a moment unable to remember where he was, who was speaking, why he hurt so much. “What?” he said, or tried to. His tongue and lips felt numb. Why was it so cold? “Can’t feel anything,” the other man said. “I…” Luke looked around, bewildered. He tried to lift his hand, but it wouldn’t move. His other hand moved, but instead of meeting his forehead, met some kind of visor. Cracked visor… helmet… “…don’t think ’s good you keep dropping out like that,” Pag was saying. Pag. Luke shifted, trying to move his legs, but they were still trapped fast. Pain bloomed again. “… think they’re coming?” Pag said. The wind was stronger. It whistled through the splintered viewscreen. There was snow on Luke’s thick grey jacket now, snow spread across the buckled controls. Not so long ago, he’d been unable to imagine snow. Now he was dying in it. Was it worth it? Maybe he should have stayed back on Tatooine. Luke thought of the endless, stifling sameness of those days. No. At least this way, he’d been able to live a little of the life he’d dreamed about. He’d seen what the stars looked like from space, from other worlds. Fought for something more worthwhile than a day’s worth of moisture from arid sand. “Come on, Pag,” he managed to say. “Got a few more hits for the Empire in us. Right?” There was an odd sound from behind, a choked laugh. “Yeah,” Pag said. “Yeah.” Luke could barely feel anything anymore. How many hours had passed? Or was it minutes? It didn’t take long for the temperature to drop. He gave his all to hoping help would come soon, because if it took too much longer, he didn’t think there would be anything left to find. Respite by JadeLotus It drew Han’s attention to the black glove on his right hand. It was hard to believe that underneath it was a mass of bionic wires, and Han could not help but stare. “It doesn’t hurt,” Luke said softly, putting his drink down and flexing his fingers self-consciously. “Really, it’s better than a real hand.” “Yeah, that whole pulse thing is overrated.” Han took a violent swig of his drink and set back it down on the table with a clunk. “Just ask Threepio.” Luke smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. In fact, Han noticed, he had the look of a man who hadn’t smiled genuinely in at least...six months. “Leia also said you had some kind of vision, about us in danger.” Han tried to begin again. Luke pursed his lips and looked a little irritated. “Leia seems to be saying a lot of things.” Suddenly feeling abashed, Han leant back into his chair. To be quite honest, he’d forgotten about Luke in his reunion with Leia, and it had been a subject they’d all studiously avoided since. “About Leia...” Han began, unsure of what exactly he was going to say, but Luke cut him off with a dismissive gesture of the hand. “Look, you’re happy, she’s happy – let’s just leave it at that for now, okay?” Luke looked pained, and Han initially thought it was just doing to noble thing and stepping aside, but there was an undercurrent of...something to Luke’s expression that seemed to indicate otherwise. Yet another thing they could not talk about, Han reasoned. He wondered how that happened – time was, he reminisced to himself, Luke would come to him with everything from his troubles and/or successes with women, to the planning of the next manoeuvre, to his advice on what ale to try with Mon Calamari food. Now it seemed Luke was closed off. There were physical differences, too, that had not escaped Han’s notice. His hair was darker, and Han wondered how long he had spent locked away in his cabin, planning his rescue. The marks on his face had settled, forever leaving his skin marred - cheekbones slightly altered, removing the last traces of boyhood from his face. He wore black – so different from the whites and tans Han had known Luke to favour previously. All in all, he had the appearance of someone who had been changed – he was not the cocky, exuberant boy he had known six months previous. It saddened him, slightly, even more because he felt Luke would never tell him the reason for the change. “You had a vision of us in danger?” Han repeated, trying to prod some life out of his friend. “You don’t believe in that kind of stuff,” Luke answered, smiling thinly again. “Remember?” “Yeah, well,” Han dismissed the notion, “I believe what I see with my own two eyes, and ever since I met you I’ve seen some crazy stuff.” Luke’s smile faded. “You were in pain,” he answered, and his eyes glazed over, as if reliving the experience. “You, and Leia. You were tortured for my benefit – he wanted me to feel it. He wanted me to come rescue you.” “Vader.” Han clenched his fist. “I would always come for you, Han,” Luke told him seriously, and he met his eyes for the first time that evening. “No matter the cost, or consequence. Whatever it took to save you – any of you – I would do it.” “I know,” Han acknowledged quietly. Luke knew he would do the same for him. In fact, he almost wanted to go out and find Vader, not so much for the torture he experienced under his orders – that was nothing – but for the kid. He wanted to rip apart all of Vader’s internal mechanisms for daring to cut off his young friend’s hand – for the hurt and suffering Luke now carried in his very bearing, for the age in his eyes. And because there was a part of Han that screamed you don’t deserve him, for Luke had been young and pure before Han had agreed to take him off Tatooine, before he’d been forced to guilt him into staying with the Rebellion, before he’d chased his imprisoned form halfway across the galaxy. It was a sobering thought, to be loved so deeply. It was different to Chewie – Wookies were unlike humans in that way. Humans, Han had always believed, were murdering, thieving, scheming beasts who were incapable of things such as loyalty, or honour. And yet there was Luke – and Leia – proving his entire philosophy wrong. And even more frightening – they expected the same in return from him. And, strangely enough, Han was willing, keen even, to reciprocate. Why else would he have volunteered to lead this crazy mission? -----signature----- Official Sock for the 2008 FFA--Saga Edition Have questions about the awards? PM us!
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SagaFanficAwards Title: Fanfiction Awards Sock: The Saga Registered: Jun '06	Date Posted: 6/24/08 12:59pm Subject: RE: 2008 Saga Fanfic Awards Excerpt Thread - Date Edited: 7/1/08 2:29pm (8 edits total) Edited By: SagaFanficAwards
	Best Action Galaxy Noir: Galaxy of Suspects by The_Face A/N: Remy and Jav are cops fleeing pursuit by local crime lord The Royal’s flunkies, who are under orders to kill or capture them. Remy pointed straight ahead. “There’s a traffic light up ahead. With any luck, we can use it to lose them. Well, not just any luck. Exclusively good luck, really.” “You talk too much,” Jav grumbled. A green ray grazed his upper arm, eliciting a scream. He threw himself back into the speeder, clinging to the wound. Remy spared a glance at the graze. “You scream like a girl over that? Never been shot before?” “As a matter of fact,” Jav hissed, “no.” “You should try it some time. And that little scratch doesn’t count.” Jav’s retort came between heavy breaths. “Have you ever successfully shot anyone before?” The Corellian choked back bile. “Not cool, man.” The light ahead turned from a friendly green to a warning yellow. Remy pushed the engines even harder, weaving around slower traffic. The Royal’s goons kept on him. The cops’ speeder flew through the intersection just as it changed to a forbidding red. The two speeders just behind them came through as well, but the third slid to a halt – trapped on the other side of crossing vehicles. Remy made a hard left, followed by another onto 52nd Street. Stranger Street. They came out at the top of the hill on which it sat, where it converged from two smaller avenues. The stolen speeder and its two pursuers merged with traffic while speeding downhill. The road plunged into a valley, then over a small crest, and downhill again. As each speeder sailed over that crest, they smashed down into the duracrete in a shower of sparks before moving forward at a normal hover. As quickly as Stranger Street had begun, the slum ended as they crossed 9th, replaced by an industrial district. Steam rising from grates in the street created a mist around them equivalent to any other jungle. Jav fired a few more shots back. The Gran screamed and dropped his blaster to clutch one of his three – now two – eyes. Suddenly out of the night and fog, there appeared two speeders parked sideways across the street to block all traffic. “Hang on.” Leaning halfway out the window, Jav shouted back, “To what?” “Your dinner.” Remy slammed on the brakes, and threw the stick on the floor backwards. The speeder jerked into reverse, and Remy used the mirrors to navigate up the street, past baffled thugs, and into an adjacent alleyway. The Royals’ men spun to take chase. Remy and Jav backed out through traffic, speeders flying past all around, to the center turn lane, where Remy threw the vehicle into a three-quarter spin, ending facing the proper direction for the lane. He threw the stick forward again and took off, side-by-side with the huge shipping speeder he’d nearly hit. Its Twi’lek driver gaped at Remy. Remy glanced to the left, mouthing, “How’s my driving?” A blaster bolt hitting the back window provided the impetus to leave the Twi’lek behind. “One of them stayed on us,” Jav reported. “Oh is that why we’re getting shot?” The Corellian weaved in and out of the passing lane, clearing civilian vehicles moving at normal speeds. The black speeder did the same just meters behind. Its top open, a towering humanoid shape rose through. Eyes on the mirror, Remy hissed, “The bogeyman.” “The urban legend?” “Way too real for my liking, I’m afraid.” Judas raised a repeater rifle’s scope to his cybernetic eye. A litany of Old Corellian and Duro curses filled the speeder as the two cops panicked. Jav fired, but the monster ignored the shots as if they’d been paint. Judas opened fire. A spray of jade blasts tore holes in the speeder, and the road near it. The weapon lit the night with an emerald glow. Jav fell silently into his seat, bleeding from his neck and shoulder – shock etched into his features. Directly ahead, the four-lane street became two two-lane bridges separated by a six-meter gap – one bridge for each direction of traffic. Remy veered to the left and dropped back to be parallel with Judas’s speeder. The cyborg adjusted his aim. Remy pushed right, slamming his speeder against theirs. “Jav!” he screamed. The Duro sat shuddering, as life leaked from his wounds. Remy plowed into the other vehicle once more. The sounds were all that registered. Metal-on-metal screech, the rain on the roof – from both the clouds and the repeater rifle, the roar of engines, and then seemingly silence. What the Heart Hides by Valairy_Scot He tailed Alpha until just ahead a ship lay in sight. They were seconds from safety; given luck, but in Obi-Wan’s experience, there was no such thing, only preparation and planning for any eventuality. “There’s our escape, Alpha,” Obi-Wan said, pointing out the obvious. “Warm her up, will you? I have a feeling - .” “That you won’t escape?” Obi-Wan had his lightsaber lit and held before him in a defensive position before the cool words had even dropped from Ventress’s lips, his body quickly interposed between Alpha and Ventress. “I don’t think so,” he replied calmly. With one hand, he waved Alpha on, knowing that despite the man’s reluctance to abandon his general, he would obey. “Only that you will try to stop us.” “You’re weak.” “I am,” he nodded, in perfect agreement. “The Force, however, is not. You know this, too, it’s stronger than your hate, Asajj and stronger than I. Remember how you felt with your mentor at your side, fighting for peace, an end to violence?” His arm was already up and blocking her blow when Ventress sprung at him, he spun and feinted, swept a leg out as if to sweep her legs out from under her, but a quick twist and leap allowed her to remain balanced and on her feet as he expected. The move did, however, allow him to remain between her and the ship. They stared at each other a moment, Obi-Wan dropping back into a defensive stance as he heard the engines warming up behind him. “Yield, Kenobi, you are no match for me, even at full power.” “Perhaps not,” he conceded amiably. “But with the Force as my ally, I am perfectly capable of holding you off as long as necessary.” He correctly anticipated that she would make her next move while he was still speaking; he retreated a step holding his lightsaber high and as she advanced, he sidestepped forward and around, his blade suddenly low and catching hers from underneath. Only a skillful twist and retreat of her own saved her wrist. “You were saying?” he invited, raising an eyebrow high. She snarled and he smiled pleasantly. Her control was slipping, giving him an edge to exploit as he resumed a defensive saber style; his offense his body language. Ventress would not take lightly to being mocked, giving him an advantage to offset her greater physical advantage at this time. In other regards, they were well matched, of similar height with similar reach. She came at him with high and low blows, twists and strikes. He was clumsy from deteriorated muscles and stiff, but the Force allowed him the necessary skill and power to defend each blow with a twist of his body and counterstrike of his own. He wouldn’t have the Force with him for long; captivity had weakened him too much and without the Force he would not withstand Ventress for long. His grasp was already slipping, for mere seconds at a time, but soon it would desert him. “Hate always proves stronger than love. Love shall destroy you, Kenobi. Mark my words, love shall bring all that you care about to ruination, and then you shall hate. When you hate, you will finally be free – only I plan to kill you before you discover this.” “I think not,” he replied pleasantly, forcing a nonchalance into his tone that he didn’t feel as his lightsaber singed her shoulder. Her counterstrike came too close for comfort; he retreated a step as he fought to hold onto the Force for the minute more he needed. “I plan to live until you learn to let go of your hate. Your hate imprisons you, Asajj. I have no power to do so, only you do. Free yourself.” He was rapidly tiring; it was time to throw a psychological weapon into the fray. He needed to end this now. His blade swung in an impossible curve as both of Ventress’s lightsabers came at him and he back flipped a distance away, pulling the forgotten Jedi’s lightsaber from where it had been tucked out of sight into his second hand. He let the Force flow through him guiding his movements, grateful that he could still access it. He would have its strength as long as necessary, but he feared what would follow such a pull on it. He couldn’t afford to collapse, not now. “Defiler! Thief!” Ventress cried; her voice terrible with anger and grief. For a moment, the lost and frightened child who saw her parents cut down in front of her eyes peeked through the cold eyes. “Give it back, Kenobi or I shall cut you down.” Posed to take advantage of that instant of vulnerability, the Jedi flipped onto the ramp as Alpha gunned the engines. Blue Sun Down by Darth Marrs The waiter was just bringing the first tray of food when several things happened at once. First, River screamed and fell from her chair to the floor beside John. Second, the whole station rocked so violently the tray and the waiter went crashing into Jayne’s face and chest. With an angry grunt Jayne pushed the waiter to the floor and then wiped strawberries and cream from his eyes. Third, and perhaps the most disturbing, Kaylee cried “Wait!” to Jayne. Ignoring River’s frantic cries and the station-quake around them, she ran to Jayne, took a finger and wiped a swatch of strawberries and cream from the mercenary’s cheek and sucked it longingly from her finger. “Kaylee!” Simon said, aghast. “I can put it in other places too!” Jayne said with an eager grin. “That hurts my brain,” Wash said. “Reavers!” River finally yelled. “Figures,” Mal muttered. He picked his gun up and looked hard at Afolabi. “I swear, if this is a trap, you and me are gonna finish what we started on Mr. Universe.” “I understand,” Afolabi said. He did not sound particularly frightened at the prospect. Simon had rushed to River’s side, but by then she was already sitting up. Outside of the restaurant, they could hear screams made distant and muted by the white noise cones. “I reckon we best be on our way,” Mal said. “We have company, sir,” Zoe noted. She pointed at the entrance as the whole restaurant exploded into chaos. A band of five Reavers came rushing in, howling like animals. All five were horribly disfigured through self-mutilation and wore a motley assortment of rags and human skins taken from their last victims. Several of the patrons of the restaurant were armed and attempted to defend themselves while others screamed and ran. The defenders fell as the Reavers tackled them with animalistic brutality. No, Mal realized, they were worse than animals. Animals hunted for survival. The Reavers hunted and killed for the pleasure of causing others pain. Mal kept his revolver ready as Zoe pulled her carbine and Jayne pulled two very large handguns. “Stay behind us,” he said. “If this is just one ship, we’re gonna make it. If it’s a whole gorram army, well, it’ll be an interesting walk.” The captain started forward with Zoe and Jayne flanking him while the others followed. The Reavers in the restaurant looked up from their latest kills. The first growled and rushed forward, only to catch one of Mal’s bullets squarely between the eyes. The other four also rushed forward. Mal shot a second, Jayne killed two in quick order, and Zoe managed to shoot one through the neck only to have the shot catch the last one in the face. It staggered back, and Jayne finished it off. “Thank you, Jayne,” Zoe said curtly. “Yes, ma’am,” he said with a big grin. Mal knew the mercenary was in his element—few were as good at killing those needed killing as Jayne Cobb. When they left the restaurant they found the main market of the Skyplex a battleground. Merchants and mercenaries alike engaged in a pitched battle with the invading Reavers. What was most disturbing, though, was that the Reavers were fighting back. “Are they using guns?” Zoe asked, clearly stunned. “Reavers don’t favor guns all that much. They like to catch their victims alive.” “That just ain’t right,” Jayne said. “What about Reavers are right?” Mal asked. “Let’s just be on our way.” A few Reavers broke through the hastily assembled barricades and rushed a group of defenders. The stricken defenders in each case screamed before their fellows put them out of their misery and finished off the attacker too. Suddenly all firing stopped. With the cessation of gunfire they could hear the station alarm ringing. Mal stopped in his tracks and looked back. The Reavers were still there, standing oddly silent. In their midst was the largest Reaver Mal had ever seen. The creature stood a full head taller than anyone around and was clad in a strange collection of black leather. Its face was as horribly mutated as the rest, but it stood straight and proud and at that very moment was pointing across the market way at…Mal. No, Mal realized. It was pointing at John. And it was speaking. A harsh, guttural, spitting language unlike anything Mal had heard before. As it spoke, the other Reavers screamed their approval, and with a suddenness that caught the station defenders off guard, the whole Reaver force surged forward through the barricades. The mercenaries and merchants opened fire, but the Reavers ignored them. They were coming straight at Mal and the rest of the Serenity crew. “Sir,” Zoe said. “Yup.” Mal looked back at the rest of them and said, “Run!” Purgatory by Helen_Taft Anakin suddenly recalled the most dangerous aspect of a shock ball. He had no choice. Swinging a leg over the railing, he jumped, plummeting to the general stands far below. Strikingly similar to the energy ball used by the Gungans at the battle of Naboo, a shock ball was filled with a form of unstable plasma. The difference was that being hit by one wasn’t deadly, just disabling. Unfortunately, the ball was self-propelled, flight capable, incredibly fast, practically indestructible and programmed to chase after anything that moved. Even cushioned by the Force, his landing wasn’t soft. Anakin landed on his feet, but the moulded plastex seat under him, weakened by decades of weather corrosion, collapsed, taking him with it. Rolling from one level to the next, he absorbed the pain and managed to stop himself by reaching out and latching onto a sturdier seat. Splayed on his side across two levels, he sought to bring his rioting senses back under control. On the far side of the track, a scoreboard hummed into life, announcing in a male-simulated voice that the score was 0:0 with one ball in play. All Anakin could think was, thank the Force there was only one. A split-second of warning had him whipping around, twisting his lower body out of the way just in time to avoid sliced in two by Maul’s lightsaber. He caught a flash of bared fangs and molten eyes. Using a Force-push that Maul resisted, Anakin swung his legs around and up, getting his revenge for the earlier kick to the face. He used the reprieve to reactivate his own ‘saber. Flexing his back, he flipped upright onto his feet. Grinning, Maul twirled his saberstaff and then attacked with a superfast flurry of alternating, horizontal strikes that was the true power behind a double-bladed weapon. It was all Anakin could do to parry each one, especially since movement was restricted on the decidedly uneven surface of the stands. There was no talking, only grunting and sweat. The shock ball also did its best to keep things interesting. Leaping from chair to chair, level to level, the combat continued with furious intensity. Blue and red light danced and twirled so fast as to be a blur. Every slash, chop and swing was made as savage as possible. Jumping in the air to avoid an ankle-sweep, Anakin aimed high, slashing at Maul’s neck. The move was blocked. Executing a misleading half spin, Maul went in low again. This time, Anakin did a full back-flip, gaining time to drag up three of the loosest seats and sending them zipping straight at Maul. The shock ball got one, Maul slashed another in two, but the third hit its mark. While Maul struggled for balance, Anakin flew at him. Slash. Parry. Strike. Block. Lashing out with another kick, Anakin sent Maul crashing into the safety barrier that separated the lowest seats from the track. This time they crossed ‘sabers and held. Blade-to-blade they strained, snarling faces only inches apart. Anakin was taller, but Maul was heavier: neither could get the advantage. Eyes glinting hungrily, Maul leaned in, snapping his fangs a hairsbreadth from Anakin’s skin. Stomach rolling in disgust, Anakin ended the futile contest. Switching to a one-handed grip on his lightsaber, he aimed an open-palm strike at Maul’s chin, viciously snapping his head back so that it collided with the barrier, gritting out, “Did no-one ever teach you not to play with your food?” His back-spin chop was deflected and then Maul flipped over the barrier to land nimbly on the track itself. Anakin followed. On firm ground, he made an impulsive decision. Bracing his legs apart, he assumed the opening Soresu stance—Obi-Wan’s preferred style. The Way of the Mynock. The way of patience and perseverance. The first had never been his strong-suit—bizarrely, now seemed a good time to practice. “Defence is for cowards and weaklings.” Maul mocked, prowling in a wide semi-circle. “You will not slay me with patience—a fact that you proved to your old Jedi master yourself.” Instead of being provoked, Anakin felt a wave of rightness—he could explain the glow flooding inside his belly in no other way. “Obi-Wan defeated you as a padawan. I wouldn’t be so quick to crow if I were you.” Leading with a swing from behind his back, Maul’s attack was a furious whirlwind of murderous red. Still, he was unable to break through Anakin’s swift blocks and parries that left no opening for a strike to penetrate. Again and again, Anakin gave ground, exactly as Obi-Wan had on Mustafar. It didn’t matter, there was plenty of ground to give and he had time to gain insights into this twisted, demon version of Sidious’ first apprentice. Until he backed onto an acceleration pad. -----signature----- Official Sock for the 2008 FFA--Saga Edition Have questions about the awards? PM us!
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SagaFanficAwards Title: Fanfiction Awards Sock: The Saga Registered: Jun '06	Date Posted: 6/24/08 12:59pm Subject: RE: 2008 Saga Fanfic Awards Excerpt Thread - Date Edited: 6/30/08 8:57pm (8 edits total) Edited By: SagaFanficAwards
	Best Drama Eluding Order Sixty-Six by Pallas-Athena Daven smoothed out a fold in his robe absentmindedly. The comm. room aboard the Rebound was cool, and the smallest breeze of recycled air blew against his face. He shifted his weight slightly as the holocom activated. A life-sized, blue mock-up of the council chambers appeared before him, and he found himself staring into the hardened eyes of Jedi Master Mace Windu. The master looked away first, not because of any sort of bashfulness, but because he had to gaze down at the datapad sitting on his knee. Daven took the moment to glance around the chamber. Most of the masters’ chairs were empty – they were all away attending to one battlefront or another. Windu was leading the Council, with Masters Kit Fisto, Saesee Tiin, and Agen Kolar. Odd and unexpected, though, was the presence of Anakin Skywalker, a knight only slightly older than Daven. Was he made a master already? Skywalker regarded him coolly, and Daven quickly looked away. “Knight Daven Staver, Battle Group Forty-five,” Windu said, finally identifying him via the information on the datapad. Windu didn’t know who he was, but Daven took no offense. He wasn’t a famous Jedi, even among the Order – especially among the Order. His line bore no renowned Jedi – his master hadn’t made a name for himself, neither has his master’s master. Windu keyed up the ’pad. “Report.” “The intel was a set up,” Daven admitted. “We were ambushed.” He keyed up a schematic, so that the battle would appear as a large holo in the council chamber next to him. It replayed the battle using rough animation in a ratio of seconds to minutes. Windu raised an eyebrow as he watched. “We lost a capital ship, but we managed to capture an M-class.” The holo winked out. Windu sat back, folding his hands across his lap. “Your performance was … impressive,” he admitted, with a touch of surprise in his voice. Daven’s throat went dry at the unexpected praise, but he managed a small nod. Again, Daven’s line was never known as ‘impressive.’ Slipping into the shadows, blending into the background – undercover work – that was the usual way (though Daven, with his red hair, doubted he would ever play that role well). Tactics, bold moves – this was rather uncharacteristic. “The hyperdrive on the M-class is out,” Daven said when it became obvious that Windu was done speaking. “We’re towing it to Ord Mandell at subspeed.” “No,” Windu ordered. “Reroute to Cambriley. We are undergoing negotiations with the Twi’lek population there. They are seeking a way to prove themselves useful to the Republic. Let them use your ship repairs.” Daven merely nodded once in acceptance. “That will cut your trip short by a number of days. When you return to Coruscant, you will be promoted to general and assigned to the Eighty-fifth.” “Master,” Daven acknowledged. A slight prickle at the left side of his neck forced him to turn his head suddenly to regard Skywalker’s gaze. The older Jedi looked almost annoyed. Ignoring the look, Daven reached a hand out to disconnect the call. “Hold,” Windu said before he cut it. “What is this M-class’s new call name?” “Ah,” Daven said, finding himself pausing. “I renamed it to enter it into the registry. It’s a temporary name; it’ll be changed upon being recommissioned.” Windu looked at him like one would an errant padawan. “I am aware of this, Knight. We need the title for our records now.” Daven swallowed roughly. “Ah. The Hero With Slightly Less Trepidation Than the Average Sentient.” “I see,” Windu said, dryly, typing the entire name into his datapad. “Thank you, Knight Staver. May the Force be with you.” At the unofficial note of dismissal, Daven bowed and moved to shut off the comm. He stole a glance, though, to his left as the holo flickered out, only to see an expression of barely contained rage radiating out from Anakin Skywalker. Never Fall in Love With a Stranger by Gina Padmé was at Anakin's side in an instant. Pressing her fingers against his neck, she felt a faint pulse. Anakin was alive, but for how much longer, she did not know. Trying not to think about the vacant stare of death in Palo's eyes, Padmé fumbled around the utility belt at the dead man's waist with shaking fingers. She found a comlink and quickly entered a series of numbers. From behind her, Anakin coughed weakly as he regained consciousness. Padmé turned to him, tenderly brushing the damp hair from his forehead. "Anakin, please hang on," she said. "I'm contacting a medcenter for help." Suddenly, Anakin's fingers closed over Padmé's wrist with surprising strength. "No," he gasped, struggling to speak. "No…medics." "But, Anakin, you'll die if you don't –" "No," he muttered fiercely. "Too many…questions…for both of us." Padmé's thumb hovered uncertainly over the comlink's buttons. "Anakin, I can't." Anakin looked up at her, seeming to struggle through his pain to focus on her face. "Please…Padmé," he whispered. Padmé stared down into his pleading blue eyes, filled with fear. Whatever Anakin was hiding from, he considered being found to be a fate much worse than death. Cursing inwardly, Padmé pressed a button to terminate the connection, certain as she did so that she had just sealed Anakin's fate. Anakin's face flooded with relief, and he slipped back into unconsciousness. Padmé struggled to remain calm, searching her mind for another way. She had hurt so many people in her foolish quest to uncover the truth behind her dreams. Aiel, Jaelyn, the other children… Was she willing to put yet another person she loved in danger? Padmé looked down at Anakin, touched the burning flesh at his cheek. She knew what she had to do. Entering another series of numbers into the comlink, she swallowed hard when she heard her sister's voice. "Sola," she began tentatively. "I-I need your help." ********* Since arriving at her cottage, Padmé had continued to pace the floor of her sitting room, her worried gaze darting between the sofa where Jaelyn was now fast asleep and the guest chamber where Sola was evaluating Anakin's condition. Padmé knew that contacting her sister would lead to many questions, questions she wasn't prepared to answer. But she had nowhere else to turn. Before leaving the university to marry Darred, Sola had spent two seasons studying to become a medic and was familiar with basic trauma care. Padmé only hoped that her sister's past training would be enough to save Anakin. The door at the end of the corridor at last flew open. "I need your help," Sola said tersely. "I've cleaned the wound as best I can, but I have to use a tissue binder to close it. It won't be pleasant, and I've no anesthetics to give him. I need you to try to keep him still." Padmé entered the bedchamber, her step faltering as she took in the sight of Anakin lying on the bed in a semi-conscious state surrounded by blood-soaked towels and bed linens. Following barked orders from Sola, she assumed her position near the head of the bed. Grasping Anakin's arms, Padmé focused on his face, not trusting herself to watch as Sola began the procedure. Within moments, Anakin let out a deep moan. His eyelids fluttered open, and Padmé felt his muscles tense sharply with the pain. Yet, due to his weakened state, it was all the resistance Anakin could offer. "Shhh…it's all right," Padmé whispered tenderly as she held him firm. Anakin closed his eyes once more, but his muscles continued to flex and tense in response to Sola's actions, his breathing labored and erratic. Padmé whispered reassurances to him as she silently willed Sola to hurry her task. At one point, Padmé gathered the courage to look down at Anakin's abdomen where her sister was quickly and efficiently fusing his wound. "You should finish your training someday," Padmé said. "You would be a gifted medic." Her words were meant to be both a sign of her appreciation and an apology for having involved her sister in this situation. Sola's gaze flickered to Padmé before returning to her task. "He's lost too much blood," she muttered, her tone making it clear that she was not ready to receive her sister's gratitude, nor her apology. "I've done all I can. Without medical attention…it is doubtful he will survive." Padmé looked down in guilt and shame. "I'm finished," Sola continued. "The wound is closed now, so you can go." "I want to stay –" "Go," Sola repeated forcefully. Padmé was startled by her sister's anger and exited the tiny bedchamber without saying another word. Returning to the sitting area, Padmé blinked back tears, trying to convince herself that she had been left with no other choice. The Way by Thumper09 TIE Pilot Chase Barton unsuccessfully attempts extorting credits during a ship inspection by issuing a fake citation Chase hesitated. This wasn't going well at all, and Adilinik wasn't buying the story. His confrontational demeanor was worrying Chase as well, and he was just asking for trouble by continuing this discussion. Backing down wouldn't be something that an Imperial should do if he was within his rights to demand compliance from someone, but maybe Adilinik would stop making a big deal out of this if he won. "All right, then, Captain, I really shouldn't do this, but I'll let that citation go. It's a minor thing that's not worth the time we're wasting on it." The gaze coming from Adilinik was steady and calculating as he processed Chase's capitulation. Finally the captain barked a short laugh. "An Imperial is letting a rule violation go? When all he has to do is just show me the rule to get me to pay? There's only one reason something like that could be happening. You can't do it, can you?" Adilinik bit out. "You can't show it to me because it doesn't exist. I'm sick of being bled dry by greedy, power-hungry types like you, trying to take what's not yours. CSA, Imperial, it doesn't matter; you're all the same." Adilinik was really rubbing Chase the wrong way. "The Empire is not at all like the CSA," Chase countered. "The Empire is making the galaxy better for everyone, even you. If some people, like you, don't like the rules that enable peace and prosperity for everyone, then that's just too bad. The CSA is only interested in lining their own pockets. They don't give a damn about anyone." "And what organization do you represent again? Going from your own descriptions, I think you have the wrong uniform on." "You're forgetting your place here, Captain," Chase said sharply. "Besides, I just offered to waive the fee you owe. Explain to me how that makes me interested only in getting money." "On the contrary, I think you're the one forgetting your place," Adilinik retorted, his voice equally heated. "I've dealt with your kind way too much in the CSA, seen every trick in the book to get money that wasn't rightfully yours. Hell, you're not even very good at it--you're so transparent that I can see through you better than my viewport. That has to make me wonder how no one else has caught on yet. Does your commander know you can't show me this wonderful rule of yours, or is he in on it too to where I have to go higher to report this? Trust me, I'll go as high as I need to." Chase narrowed his eyes, all nervousness forgotten. "That's really not necessary," he warned. "Oh, but I think it is," Adilinik said, not backing down. He pulled a small handheld comlink off of his belt. Chase's hand immediately gripped his holstered blaster. "I wouldn't turn that on." Adilinik entered the cold stare-down with Chase. With each strangled breath he took, the Imperial pilot was acutely aware of the danger Adilinik's comlink posed to himself and everything he'd been working so hard for. He kept his eyes focused on Adilinik and the comlink. "Keep it turned off, and put that comlink away nice and slowly," Chase said, controlling each word as best as he could. "Let's discuss this like rational adults." Adilinik snorted, and then he spread his hands out casually. "Rational adults? You're the one threatening the use of a blaster against someone holding a comlink. There's nothing 'rational' about that. In fact, it sounds a lot like a cornered criminal. Is that what you are?" "I mean it," Chase said, dead serious. "Put it away." "I think it's time for you to get off my ship," Adilinik said, equally serious. Chase tried desperately to think things through, but no action, no words held promise of getting him out of this mess. The only thing he was positive about was that he had to find a way to guarantee Adilinik wouldn't report him. "I don't think so. I'm in charge here. I've got a galactic military and government backing me up," Chase said. "Do you?" "Your damn military and government are not on this ship. This is my ship. I don't answer to you. Now get off." "You want to make this messy?" Chase demanded. "We can make this messy. We can start by arresting you, impounding your ship, all sorts of things." "You wouldn't dare," Adilinik shot back. "Not when it would just call attention to your own unscrupulous actions. My ship, my rules. If you're not going to leave, I'll show you the door." Veil of Shadows by ViariSkywalker Another shriek split the night, and Mara ducked instinctively as something large flew over her head. Mara rounded on the creature, aiming her blaster to take a shot. It was some kind of bat-like creature with no visible eyes, long razor-like teeth, and the ugliest mug she’d ever seen on anything that flew. She fired off a shot as it swooped back over her. The laser didn’t slow it down much, and it turned to come after her again. “Fine,” she muttered, drawing her lightsaber with her left hand. As the creature dove at her, she pivoted to the left and swept upward with her blade. The magenta beam passed neatly through the creature, cutting it into two pieces that thudded to the ground. Both pieces convulsed for a few seconds before going still. Mara returned her blaster to its holster and shifted her saber to her right hand. The air around her suddenly seemed to crackle with a dark frenzy, and warning spikes shot up her spine. Though the sky was growing steadily darker, the ground where she stood seemed to be bathed in an even deeper shadow. Mara looked up and discovered the source of the shadow. At least two dozen of those winged creatures were circling overhead. Mara held her lightsaber up like a shield, and every single one of the creatures plunged toward her. ~~ The hunter had returned to its tomb, waiting for dawn, waiting for the monsters to crawl back to their lairs. There was no reason to fight them off. If the hunter could not have the girl, those dark creatures could feed on her blood. The hunter felt the surge in vicious, mindless joy that always came when the monsters attacked. It was the promise of food, the promise of blood. This time the blood was rich in the Force. The monsters would enjoy a special treat tonight, one they had probably not indulged in since the time of their ancestors. The hunter smiled at the thought of a tradition renewed. Tomorrow the hunter would leave the cave and make sure the girl was dead. If she was not, then the hunter would continue its pursuit. One way or another, the hunter would win. ~~ The disturbance was sudden and overwhelming, striking Luke as he plodded through the immense valley. Where before there had been a not-quite-peaceful silence in the Force, there was now a loud, unrelenting delirium. Spurred on by the agitation in the air, Luke began to run down the wide path, his focus on the little trail that led out of the canyon toward what looked like a series of caves. He reached out mentally, trying to gain a clearer picture of what was pouring this chaos into the Force. He saw a flash of leathery brown skin, a piercing magenta light, and green eyes. Luke growled wordlessly and demanded more power from his legs, sprinting toward the caves and praying it was not too late. ~~ He entered the caves with his eyes closed, trusting the Force to guide him through the darkness. It was hard – he had always had trouble letting go of his other senses. But he felt the Force more clearly here, and he obeyed its whispers. He plowed through the caves without incident, without hesitation, only to realize there was more than one set of caves. Luke opened his eyes and found himself standing on the edge of a precipice. To his right was a natural bridge that connected this ledge to the next series of caves. On the other side was a flock of hideous winged creatures circling around one figure. The Emperor’s Hand. Luke ran across the narrow bridge, igniting his lightsaber in the process. With a war cry that might have disturbed even Leia, he plunged into the middle of the fray, his crimson blade skewering and slicing through the monsters. He caught a glimpse of magenta before it was swallowed up by the creatures’ brown wings. Luke hacked the heads off of two of them as they passed on either side of him. The rest of the monsters broke off their attack and descended on their fallen companions. Luke took a step back and watched as the remaining eight creatures fed on their dead. His face twisted in a grimace as the stench met his nostrils. He looked up to see the Emperor’s Hand staring back at him, her green eyes livid. Without a word she turned and fled into the cave. Luke skirted the feeding animals and chased after her into the darkness. -----signature----- Official Sock for the 2008 FFA--Saga Edition Have questions about the awards? PM us!
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SagaFanficAwards Title: Fanfiction Awards Sock: The Saga Registered: Jun '06	Date Posted: 6/24/08 1:00pm Subject: RE: 2008 Saga Fanfic Awards Excerpt Thread - Date Edited: 7/2/08 2:24pm (7 edits total) Edited By: SagaFanficAwards
	Best Romance A Tapestry Wide and Wonderful by VaderLVR64 A/N: In this story, Anakin never became a Jedi. Instead, he’s a famous pod racer. He wanted the moment, the whole evening, to be perfect. A slight breeze was blowing in from the desert, just enough to set the chimes to ringing and to make the diaphanous hangings billow softly. It was, he thought to himself, as lovely a setting as any woman could desire. He did not want to impress just any woman, however, he wanted to impress Padmé Naberrie. A slight sound from the edge of the courtyard made him turn and he stood there. Staring. Stunned. She was covered from neck to foot, but with every step she took, every slight movement of the wind, the sheer layers of fabric shifted and moved, giving him a tantalizing glimpse of her body. The pale silk of her skin shone through the gossamer fabric, taunting and teasing him. Unable to speak, and not knowing what he would say if he could speak, Anakin simply walked toward her and held out his hand. When she placed her slim hand in his, he felt a shock run through him, sharp and sweet. Still silent, he led her to the small, low table and held her hand while she lowered herself to one of the plump cushions arranged around it. Then he sat down on the one next to her and lifted up the bottle of wine in invitation. Without speaking, she nodded her head and he filled the glass, unable to take his eyes from her. “This is…” Padmé sighed and shook her head. “Incredible…simply beautiful…” she said. “The gardens are even lovelier in the moonlight.” “Lots of things are even more beautiful in the moonlight,” he whispered huskily, finally finding his voice. “I never had a chance,” she said softly, smiling slightly with a feminine triumph that was at odds with her words. “I think I’m the one who should be saying that,” he admonished. “I love you,” Padmé whispered suddenly and he felt the words jolt through him, striking deep to his very core. Anakin leaned in close and gently pressed his lips to hers, too overwhelmed to speak, even to return the words. When her arms came up and wrapped around his neck, he shuddered with longing. His hand was shaking as he cradled her face, feeling the racing of her pulse against his fingers. “I…I love you, Padmé,” he answered at last. “Forever…I’ve always known you’re the only one for me.” “Despite a very intensive search,” she teased. He laughed and shook his head. “I was just passing the time until the gods brought us back together,” he said. “And now that they have, I won’t ever let you go.” “Is that a promise?” she asked, her breath warm against his cheek. “Yes,” he said simply. “One you’ll know I’m keeping every day of our lives together.” Padmé laughed and her head tilted back, giving his mouth better access to her throat. She leaned back languidly, resting on the strength of his arm, trusting him to support her. “Are you asking me to marry you?” Her voice was both a challenge and a question. Anakin pushed aside one filmy layer of deepest blue to bare her shoulder. “I thought that was a given,” he rasped as his fingers played along the elegant lines of her collarbone. “It’s still nice to be asked,” she said and then hissed when his lips blazed across the satiny skin of her shoulder. Her fingers clenched in his hair while he traced lazy circles with his tongue, delivered gentle nips with his teeth. “Will you marry me?” he whispered against her ear. “I should play coy and make you wait for an answer,” she said, her voice gone warm and sweet like honey. “You could,” he admitted. “I’m not above begging, you know.” Then he nibbled at her ear and laughed softly as he felt her tremble against him. It was comforting to know that she was as transported by what they shared as he was. “Oh gods…” she moaned. He felt her tremble against him. “Is that a yes?” Anakin asked as he moved one hand up along the sleek muscles of her right leg. “Yes, yes, yes…” she murmured. “I know it’s rather sudden,” he said softly. “But I don’t care.” “Neither do I,” she assured him. “I feel like I’ve been waiting a hundred years,” he said against her temple. “Not quite that long,” she laughed. “But I know what you mean.” “We’re meant to be together,” he whispered. “I’ve always known it.” “Together,” she said, tracing his lips with her fingers. “We’ll figure out the rest later.” Never Fall in Love With a Stranger by Gina Author's Note: The following excerpt is part of a dream sequence. I hear the rush of raging water, and I look up to see a mighty river in the distance. While the shadows loom ever closer here on the forest's side of the river, on the water's far bank, the sun is shining down upon a meadow filled with wildflowers. It is the most pure, golden light I have ever witnessed. Its promised warmth beckons to me, and I begin the journey to the water's edge. Growing closer, I see a figure standing by the shore. It is Anakin. Gone is the dark cloak. He is dressed in a white, gauzy shirt, his brown leggings tucked into heavy boots, his face turned upwards as he basks in the beautiful sunlight. I reach the river's edge, but I cannot cross. There is no bridge, boat, nor even a path of stones. I contemplate swimming to the distant shore, but it is so far away and the water's swells too tumultuous. "Anakin," I call to him. He does not hear me, his eyes still closed in apparent ecstasy as the sun kisses his skin. I cup my hands about my mouth and call to him yet again, much louder this time. My efforts are at last successful, and he smiles as he sees me for the first time. "Padmé," he greets me, and although I must scream out to be heard over the rushing waters, I hear Anakin's voice as clearly as if he is standing beside me. His familiar, deep tones are a mere whisper, a caress against my skin. "Anakin," I cry out again. "I don't understand. Where are we?" He closes his eyes for a moment. When he opens them again, I see pain, sadness, even from my distant vantage point. "Do you truly not know, Padmé?" I look once more at the storm clouds above me, following their path to the river where they seem to do battle with the cloudless, sun-drenched sky, never allowed to cross over to the distant shore. And at last I understand. "But how do I reach you, Anakin?" He smiles sadly at me. "You cannot," he answers. "It is my journey to make. Alone. If…I choose to make the treacherous crossing…" He turns his face to the sun once more, his expression one of longing, peace. "No! Anakin, please," I cry. "You must come back to me." Abandoning all caution, I step into the water. The river begins to swirl. I hear the cry of demons echoing up from the river's depths, their ghostly faces emerging from the white foam as they scream in outrage that I have dared to disturb their lair. I fall back onto the shore, scurrying far from the water's edge. "It is my journey, Padmé," Anakin tells me yet again. "Where I am, you cannot follow." "Then I will wait for you," I call out in defiance, my gaze never leaving him as I kneel on the shore, smoothing my wet skirts about me. "I will wait for you to return to me, Anakin." I will wait for you because I love you. Although I do not speak these final words aloud, he seems to hear my thoughts, for I see a flicker of some new emotion in his eyes. He stares at me in awe, and a grateful smile slowly spreads across his sun-kissed face. He dips his head in a gentleman's bow. Then he kneels on the ground, his lower body disappearing amidst the artist's palette of wildflowers. I watch as he closes his eyes and inhales deeply. He exhales slowly, and inhales yet again. Exhale. Inhale. Hours pass. The clouds above the water grow darker, angrier as even more battle lines are drawn. Then the ground beneath me trembles as waves of thunder roar out in angry protest. It has begun. Fat, heavy raindrops pelt down on me with the searing intensity of a vibroblade, and the howling winds pummel me mercilessly, trying to force me from my watchful perch. "No!" I cry from between clenched teeth. "I will not leave you, Anakin." The rains continue to fall, their deluge threatening to flood the riverbanks. I can no longer see Anakin. Yet still I remain, biting back a cry of fear as bolts of lightning threaten to rend the sky asunder. Then above the noise of the storm and roiling water, I hear a new sound. Faint at first, but growing stronger. It is the soft thunder of a heartbeat. The rhythm echoes within my ears and seems to pulsate against my cheek as I feel the press of invisible arms encircling me, clinging to me for shelter against the storm. "Don't let go, Anakin," I whisper to him. "Just hold on to me." A Simple Twist of Fate by Gabri_Jade Mara led him, trailing admiringly just behind her, to one of the draped booths in the visitation area, behind one of the tall vases and thus out of view of the woman at the desk, for which Luke was grateful. She pulled one of the airy drapes aside with a slender, glittering hand. "After you." Luke stepped in and briefly eyed the silky circular divan with distaste, then turned to Mara as she slipped in between the curtains in his wake. He reached out both arms for her, but she shook her head regretfully. "Can't," she said. "The glitter was just applied; it's not dry yet. It'll get all over your uniform." "I don't care," Luke said fervently, but he reluctantly let his arms fall back to his sides nevertheless. "Yes, you do," Mara said, her eyes sparkling more silent laughter at him. "Or your superior officer would, at any rate. Quit ogling me; it's only a dancing costume." "You look incredible," he said, drinking in the sight of her. "Flatterer," she said, rolling her eyes. "Hardly." The desire for her was pooling in his belly, making it hard to breathe. "Mara, this is inhuman. You can't come out like this and then tell me I can't touch you." "We'll make up for it later," she promised, her voice dropping to that smoky tone he knew so well. At that, Luke blew out a breath, suddenly remembering why he was here in the first place. "Not for a while. Maybe a long while." He looked at her, seeing the sudden concerned question in her eyes. "I have a new assignment, Mara. I have to report in -" he looked at his chrono "- shavit, less than ten minutes. We're leaving Coruscant tomorrow." . . . Luke laughed. It had been a simple twist of fate that led them to each other, a single rare instance where one of his first commanding officers, impressed with his performance on a tricky mission, had invited him to a ball the Emperor had thrown for his higher ranking military officers. Luke had thought it a good opportunity to make connections - even the military didn't operate on skill alone - but he hadn't expected to make the acquaintance of a dancer with fire-shaded hair and emerald green eyes. That remained the one and only time they'd ever crossed paths without appointment, each moving in very different social circles, but the mutual attraction was strong and they soon managed to meet again - and again, and again. The attraction became an affair; the affair became something far deeper. Despite their differences, it wasn't long before they were devoted to each other. Neither had much free time, but what little they could find was nearly always spent together. One day, Luke hoped they'd be able to spend much more time together - but first, he'd have to make something more of himself than a mere TIE pilot. "I like mere TIE pilots," Mara whispered, leaning in close. "I don't know how you always do that," he whispered back. She smiled. "Trade secret." He shook his head, smiling back at her. "Nothing like a mysterious woman to add excitement to a guy's life." He sobered, wondering when he'd next see those deep green eyes. "But if I was more than a mere TIE pilot, Mara . . ." She tilted her head again, a familiar sadness settling over her features. "If it was up to me, Luke, we wouldn't be waiting. Not for rank, or for anything else. But we both have our duty." "I know," he murmured. She lifted her hand to hover just over his cheek as though she were caressing him, so close that he could feel the heat of her skin on his even without touch. "Fly safe and shoot straight, Luke. You be sure to come back to me." "Always," he whispered. She sighed. "It never bothered me that TIEs don't have shields until I knew you." He grinned at her. "Shields are for Rebel cowards." Mara rolled her eyes again. "Pilot egos." She drew her hand back with tangible reluctance. "Get going. You aren't going to gain any points for being late." Luke looked at his chrono and swore again. He looked back at her. "Mara . . ." "I know," she whispered. "Contact me when you next get leave. I'll find a way for us to meet." "I will." He reached for her automatically; remembered the glitter and stopped. "Whatever you're doing besides dancing, Mara, be careful." She smiled. "Always." . . . He held the drapes open for her, then let them fall behind her. "I have to run." "Literally," Mara said. She blew him a kiss. "Go. You know how to find me." The Love of a Prince by Lady_Jade Author's Note: Just something to keep in mind while reading: this in an AU story with Anakin being Prince of Naboo and Padmé just being a Handmaiden. This particular scene involves Padmé and an unknown stranger. Padmé turned around to see a young girl of about twelve running towards them, her blond hair streaming out behind her like a river of sunlight. “Anita, what are you doing here?” Anita’s face grew cross as she came to a stop in front of Padmé, and her blue eyes narrowed into slits as she said, “My dance recital is today, and you promised to play the music for my group’s performance, remember?” Padmé tried not to let her guilt show on her face. “You’re right; I did promise.” “Then let’s go!” Anita said before proceeding to drag Padmé away from her laughing friends. As they headed towards the dance studio, Padmé berated herself for forgetting about Anita’s recital. Anita was the youngest child of the Duke and Duchess De’mount, who were some of the nicest people Padmé knew. They had been very good friends with her parents, and had looked after her the first few months after the fire. During that time she had become very close to their then ten year old daughter Anita. Padmé had to pull out of her memories as they reached the studio. Anita immediately headed off to change, while Padmé made her way to the outdoor stage. As soon as she set foot on the wooden floor Padmé was greeted by the head dance instructor, Kira Kerev. “There you are Padmé!” she exclaimed. “I was afraid you weren’t going to make it.” Padmé smiled. “Well I’m here. Where do you want me?” “Well Anita’s group is up first, so you can go ahead and get the piano ready,” Kira said before she was called off to deal with a lighting problem. Padmé walked over to the school’s grand piano, letting her fingers glide over its smooth surface. Sitting down on the bench, she played a few short notes to make sure the instrument was in tune. A few minutes later the girls were on stage ready to dance, and a small group of people had gathered to watch. Kira gave the signal, and Padmé began to play the sheet of music that had been handed to her by a stagehand. Padmé let the music carry her away, reveling in the peace it gave her. She rarely played anymore, but when she did she was able to go back and remember the better times in her life. She thought back to when her family was alive and they would spend the evenings listening to her play. Suddenly, a tingle went down her back and she had a feeling that she was being watched. As her fingers continued to dance across the keys, she let her eyes wander over the crowd that had formed. Almost immediately her gaze locked on a man who was standing near the stage. Instead of watching the dancers, his eyes were fixated solely on her. And what eyes they were, for they were the deepest shade of blue she had ever seen. They reminded Padmé of Naboo’s oceans, and she felt as though she would drown in their depths if she looked too long. With great effort, she tore her eyes away from his trance-like gaze. Momentarily looking back at the girls, Padmé noticed that they were almost finished. However, she still found her thoughts occupied by her would-be admirer. As she played the last few notes, she searched the crowd again. The man, whoever he was, was nowhere to be seen. She had no idea who he was…so why was her heart beating so fast? -----signature----- Official Sock for the 2008 FFA--Saga Edition Have questions about the awards? PM us!
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SagaFanficAwards Title: Fanfiction Awards Sock: The Saga Registered: Jun '06	Date Posted: 6/24/08 1:00pm Subject: RE: 2008 Saga Fanfic Awards Excerpt Thread - Date Edited: 7/2/08 2:30pm (12 edits total) Edited By: SagaFanficAwards
	Best Humor Freeze-Frame by dianethx PAUSE Everything stopped. The thousands of droids surrounding them, clone-ships descending, Jedi defending themselves in the arena - everything around them seemed to shimmer and then freeze into place. Obi-Wan let out a sigh - an annoyed sigh. This had been happening too much lately and they were all getting tired of it. "Blast, they did it again." He turned to Padmé and said, "Did you see who got the remote and paused it?" "No, it's too hazy. I can't see a thing." She shook her head. "Ani?" Anakin looked around, frowning into the distance, "I think... I don't know. I hope it's the boy. Please let it be the boy. Fighting and crashing into things I can take but that romance stuff is...." He scraped at his face with one hand. "She keeps rewinding and watching us over and over again. It's annoying." "Ani, we're in trouble. It's the girl." "E chuta." Anakin shuddered and looked at Padmé, his eyes haunted. "She's going to rewind back to the fireplace scene again, isn't she?" Obi-Wan groaned. "I hope not. I don't think I could take one more 'kiss and scar' rendition. It makes me nauseous." "You're not the only one, Master." Anakin scrunched his face up as if he smelled something bad. "What's worse was the 'sand coarse and gets everywhere' poodoo. Who writes that kind of kriffing nonsense?" Padmé shrugged. "It's not that bad, Ani." Not for the first time, Anakin scowled at her. "It's Anakin, Padmé. An-A-Kin. Not Ani. Ani's a girl's name." "But your mom calls you Ani." "She also calls me pookie-pie." As Obi-Wan started to laugh, Anakin muttered, "Kenobi, don't even start." There was a mischievous glint in Obi-Wan's eyes as he said, "At least, no one called you Oafy-Wan. I think pookie-pie suits you." Anakin snapped back, "Listen, old man...." "Stop it, both of you." Padmé pointed out into the haze. "We're in trouble. The old lady took the remote away from the girl and you know where this is going." "Yeah, to 'Revenge' and that bedroom scene." Anakin gave Padmé a knowing smile but Obi-Wan just groaned again. "If you had pulled in your stomach a little more as you moved from Padmé's bedroom onto the veranda, your pajamas would have fallen off and then where would you have been?" "In an NC-17 movie?" Anakin said eagerly. "At least I kept my clothes on," Obi-Wan grumbled. "Yeah, well the old lady also watches the end of 'Phantom Menace' where you and Qui-Gon are taking off your robes and she does it in slow motion." Anakin reminded him. "Over and over again." "She has good taste," Obi-Wan said softly. Padmé laughed. "I enjoy that scene myself." Anakin looked horrified. "You do? Qui-Gon's old enough to be your father." "But he's not." She looked very content, smiling just a bit, as if thinking naughty thoughts. "Padmé...." Obi-Wan turned away, looking out into the distance, aghast. "Anakin, Padmé, I think you need to see this. The old lady has 'Empire' in her hand and you know where that is going." "To Luke's scene where he finds out I'm his father? Where we have a long, cool lightsaber fight? What?" Anakin could be so blind about things, especially if they weren't about saber fighting or Padmé. Sending him a hard, Masterly stare, Obi-Wan said, "Anakin, she always goes to the same scene. The one where Luke is on Dagobah in those tight pants and he starts to turn around and she's looking at his...." "How could she?! Luke's in training to be a Jedi. She shouldn't be watching him like that. I'm going to delete that scene. Dirty old woman!" "Calm down, Padawan. It's going to be all right." "Listen Kenobi, you tell me one more time it's only a movie and we're going at it, Mustafar or no Mustafar." "At least, it's not the old man." Padmé was frowning. "He keeps watching 'Return', running and rerunning that scene with Leia in her slave girl outfit, and making rude remarks." "He what?!" Anakin seemed ready to explode. "That's it! Leia needs a cloak. And full body armor. And a mask!" He lunged forward, looking as if he were going to run right through the haze and teach the old guy a lesson he'd not soon forget. But Obi-Wan knew better; it was not going to work. Besides, the movie might restart any minute and Anakin had to be there, doing his part to help turn back the droids and save the day. Grabbing onto him as Anakin raced past, Obi-Wan held on as best he could but it was difficult. Anakin struggled to get away and he was shouting, too. "He's looking at my little girl and thinking evil thoughts. Let me at him!" Braken Starblaster, Space Attorney: The Dark Darkness by The_Face Braken kept walking. A young man with shaggy brown hair stepped into his path – his intern, Zokk Hopscotcher. “Oh, Braken, you’re back! Did you have a nice trip? Trixie came back, like, hours ago. I thought you were traveling together?” Braken blinked. He wasn’t entirely sure of anything Zokk had just said in all that chattering. “We hate Trixie now,” he informed the suggestible young lad. “Okay!” he said brightly. “Oh, can you help me with this?” He produced an improbably thick brown folder and rooted through the flimsi sheets inside. “What does it mean here by ‘extralegal’?” “It’s extralegal, Zokk,” Braken said with a tone that implied this concept was simpler than breathing. “That means it’s even more legal than usual. The government encourages it. Paying your taxes early, for example. Buying a portrait of the Emperor. The kind of things people get merit badges and employee of the month awards for.” He puffed up his chest and raised his chin to look just over Zokk’s head. “Excellence.” Zokk frowned, confused. “Really? ‘Cause this is referring to flying a TIE Fighter while intoxicated and blowing up half a docking bay in the process.” Braken raised an eyebrow at the shorter human. He said, “Oh. Well I don’t consider traffic law canon.” “Hmm. By the way, Mr. Doufoom wants to see you in his office.” “What does he want?” “To see you in his office,” Zokk repeated, slower and louder. Braken sighed. His protégé was a bit of an idiot. So was he, but he was too stupid to know that. He navigated the grey, holo-poster-lined corridors of Palpatine, Palpatine, and Palpatine until he found the office of Ajian Cyrus Doufoom, his boss and generally Imperial guy. The door was open, so Braken poked his head in. “You wanted to see me, sir?” Ajian glanced up at Braken over his eyeglasses. He was a human male in his 50s, with hair swept back so far it seemed as if it would pull him away by the scalp at any moment. Or at least it seemed that way if you had an overactive imagination, time on your hands to examine his ‘do, and a hallucination problem. He is played by Christopher Walken. “Ah, Starblaster. You’re late.” “Trixie dumped me…” “To say I’m surprised would be a lie.” “…Out the hovertrain.” “We could trade excuses all day,” Ajian said, “but there’s business to… attend to. You have a case. I already gave… CL-113/9 the file. You two… will… be… working together on this one. He should be meeting with the client… already in Room 3A. You’re late.” “She put me through the window,” Braken said. Ajian held up a hand and put his commlink to his face. “Beeeeeeep,” said the dialtone. Ajian said, “I have to take this, Braken.” “…Right.” Braken turned and walked out of the office. He headed down the hallway and went in search of Room 3A in the labyrinthine building. He found it three meters away from Doufoom’s office, just under eight minutes later. Like I said, labyrinthine. And, again, Braken was a bit of an idiot. “Hi there, sorry I’m late. Braken Starblaster, space attorney.” He extended a hand to a pale, haunted-looking man dressed entirely in black. “And you’re a… cosmo-ninja?” “I have slain many cosmo-ninjas, and they are not to be trifled with, nor made a joke,” the man replied. Braken turned to CL-113/9, a clone in a suit with a Mandalorian-print on his necktie. “What’s the story?” CL handed him several sheets of flimsiplast, stapled together, and Braken examined it. The document was full of muddled legal speech and those paragraph-sentences chock-full of extremely dependent clauses that huddle around each other for empathy and, while lacking in periods, enthusiastically overcompensate with commas and the occasional semicolon, and for this reason Braken had to read over it a few (a few being nine in this case) times – first for the main framework, which turned out to be two words long, seven times for all the ideas, and another time for review because he drifted off during the eighth read-through – before he finally understood, and could be fully and knowledgeably bored with the whole thing. “And I take it you’re Henshu Vennom?” “I am the shadow of mortality, present in all th–” “Yeah, great,” interrupted Braken. “You’re practicing the Dark Side without a license.” The Starr Worrs by 1Yodimus_Prime THE STARR WORS: Episode 85: The Dudes Do Stuff In Retaliation It was a time of things. Things that happened. The PEOPLE were desperately in the middle of trying to be desperate. Meanwhile, the DUDES were up to stuff. Stuff that they were planning. In retaliation. THAT GUY from the other one, you know…the Guy, he and the other People went somewhere after doing that thing to the THING, during that one thing that happened. Now that OTHER GUY is doing something in order to make something happen for some reason, which he hopes to unleash somehow, at some point, on the People, maybe. He searches The Place to find them for some purpose. That’s what I hear, anyway. I could be wrong. LOCATION: The Hyperspace lane between Coruscant and the Hoth System. 0800 hours. (rush hour) The Dark Lord held a still, stoic pose over the enormous viewscreen at the front of the Bridge. His towering presence looked like an alter of Evil, adorning the ship’s overlook like Christmas decorations. Evil Christmas decorations. Other officers scampered by acting busy, talking in hushed, clipped tones. He ignored them. The Dark Lord of Evil Christmas stood there and beheld the great Epic before him. The grand space opera that was Hyperspace, in all its blue, thinly-veiled-metaphorical glory. And this man. This man machine. This machine. Of death. Nay, of ruination. He was Darth Vader, the greatest, most terribly evil thing to ever exist, ever, with the exception of only Emperor Palpatine himself. And Darth Bane, the original Sith Lord. And Darth Malak, the Original original Sith Lord. And Darth Revan, the original Original original Sith Lord. And Exar Kun, the Original original Original original Sith Lord. And Naga Sadow, the ORIGINAL Original original Original original Sith Lord. And Ewoks. And Shaft. Okay, so he wasn’t the greatest, most terribly bad mofo to ever exist. But he was most certainly the associate to such mofoes. Or at least chaos and ruination, if nothing else. Gotta give him that. The Dark-Lord-and-Associate-to-Such-Mofoes was bedecked in what could only be described as ‘totally sweet threads’. With his suit, everything was automated. His breathing was automated. His voice was automated. His eyes were automated. His muscles? Automated. His bones? Automated. His hair? Automated. His clock radio? Automated. His emergency inflatable escape shuttle? Automated. Plus he had a helmet that was scary, plus he had boots, and a mask, and awesome gloves. And he had flashing buttons on his chest. His chest, dude. That’s badass. Not only that, he was tall as hell. And to top it all off, everything was black. So, like the description said: totally sweet threads. But what really caught the eye was the cape and helmet. The helmet itself looked like a skull. A black, eyeless skull that seemed to stare straight into your soul. Yes, stare deep, deep into your very soul, then rip it out and have it for dinner, then make your soul pay for the meal like a jerk, because it so knows your soul didn’t bring cash, and this restaurant doesn’t accept credit cards, and it totally just ordered the most expensive dessert, even though your soul explicitly stated that it was full and wasn’t interested in any tiramisu, hell it doesn’t even like things flavored with coffee, which it’s allergic to, and to top it all off the car is double-parked and now there are three parking tickets on the window and the cop’s threatening to have it towed. All because of Vader’s black, eyeless skull mask. Heh, sucks to be your soul. The cape totally surrounded the rest of him. It flared out like a black tree trunk as it reached the ground. A black tree trunk of death. {i]Christmas[/i] death. Vader liked having a cape that covered him up like that. It made him feel warm. Warm and snuggly. Not that he enjoyed that of course, his mind added quickly. Behind him, he sensed a barely-sentient brain pattern betraying the existance of a stormtrooper, trying with all his might to not look like he was urgently aproaching the Dark Lord-and-Associate-of-Chaos-and-Ruination. He was failing miserably. Vader would’ve smirked if he still had a lower jaw, but it remained in R&D having it’s operating system updated. The Dark Lord of Introspective Character-building idly hoped it would have some kind of spam filter this time. Vader’s No Good, Horrible, Really Stinky Day by Jade_Pilot Darth Vader leaned in close to the tracking screen and paused. “What is it Captain Piett?” “Admiral, sir.” “What?” “It’s Admiral Piett, my Lord.” Vader folded his black clad arms across his massive chest. “When did you become an admiral?” “I believe it was right after you choked Admiral Ozzel, Sir.” “Ozzel…Ozzel…which one was he?” “The one after Motti, my Lord.” Vader tapped his finger against his mask. “The one from Tepasi?” “No sir, that was General Tagge.” “Did I choke him?” “I believe he died on the Death Star, sir.” “Dang it…I so wanted to choke him.” “Yes sir.” Vader sighed. “Well, there’s always Tarkin…” Admiral Piett swiveled his chair to face the Sith Lord. “I regret to inform you—” “Argh! Don’t tell me he died on the Death Star also!” “I’m afraid so, my lord.” Vader pounded a gloved fist onto the console. “Man—I hated that guy!” “Most people did, sir.” “It was always ‘Vader do this and Vader stop choking the moffs’!” “He was well known for his condescending nature, my lord.” “I really, really wanted to choke that guy.” “Yes, sir. Lord Vader, if I may interrupt for a moment…” “Yeah, I guess…” “Sir, there’s a shuttle requesting clearance to Endor. They have the proper clearance codes and claim to be transporting technical parts and crewmembers.” “Maybe I could get Palps to clone Tarkin, run up a couple copies for my own personal use…” “Sir?” “Hmmmm?” “The shuttle, my lord?” Vader flexed his hand. “Oh…uh, ask them if they have any middle management officers on board. You know…someone that would not be missed much.” “Yes, my lord.” Piett leaned toward the comm. console. “Attention Shuttle Tydirium—” “Wyaaaaaaaarrrrr….” “I don’t know… fly causal, Keep your distance though, Chewie, but don't look like you're trying to keep your distance.” “Wyaaaaaaarrrrr…” “Sir, I appear to have been mistake—” Piett looked over at Vader who was clenching and unclenching his fist. “It appears the shuttle is being piloted by rebels.” Vader stopped pacing. “No Imperial commanders?” “No, sir.” “No generals or lieutenants or captains?” “I’m afraid not, my lord.” Darth Vader hung his head and sighed wearily. “Why does everything always happen to me?” “Uh…sir?” “Yes?” “The shuttle full of rebels?” The Sith Lord waved his hand dismissively. “Blast them.” “Sir, don’t you want to interrogate them?” Vader tapped the baseboard with the toe of his boot. “Just…blast them. Blast them-blast them-blast them.” He turned and marched away. “I’ll be in my quarters…” “Yes, sir.” “Getting my brain fluid suctioned.” “Yes, my lord.” “And tell cook to send up a slice of that sponge cake with the little candy cherries I like so much.” “At once, Lord Vader.” Piett turned back to the console, initiating the targeting sequence, but froze with his finger over the firing indicator. Rubbing his chin, he activated the commlink. “Attention Shuttle Tydirium…before I blast you to pieces, could I interest anyone in a middle management position in the Imperial navy?” Weekend At Windu's by VaderLVR64 “Could we please get back to the situation at hand?” Mace interrupted impatiently. “Oh yeah,” Anakin muttered. “Dead chancellor.” He shook his head. “A hell of a thing, don’t you think?” “Not exactly what I expected when we invited the Chancellor here to this retreat to try and work out some of our differences,” Obi-Wan agreed dryly. “You know what they’re going to say, don’t you?” Mace asked softly, looking at the two Jedi. “That he died in bed with a pleasure worker?” Anakin guessed with a snort. “That would be hilarious! I’d love to see the spin his publicity people put on that one.” “That we killed him,” Obi-Wan said. “Could we just tell them he died that way?” Anakin asked. “You know, just for laughs?’ “No,” Mace replied. Anakin pouted and Obi-Wan gave him a swift elbow in the ribs. “Ouch!” Anakin cried out, rubbing at his side and scowling at his Master. “Will you shut up and listen to Master Windu, please?” Obi-Wan said with an air of suffering. Anakin assumed an overly serious expression and nodded. “Of course, Master, I live to serve.” He bowed to Mace. “Please…share your wisdom with us, oh great Jedi Master.” “I might just turn my back if Master Obi-Wan wants to commit a little Padawan-cide,” Mace warned him. “Some people have no sense of humor,” Anakin grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest and scowling at his companions. “We’re Jedi,” Mace and Obi-Wan said together. They both winced when Anakin laughed at them. “Okay, so what do we do about the Palpatine popsicle here?” Anakin asked bluntly. Obi-Wan sighed and shook his head. “A little respect for the dead, all right, Anakin?” “If we let it be known that he’s dead, there is going to be a very large problem for the Order,” Mace said. “What do you mean, if we let it be known?” Obi-Wan asked in disbelief, while Anakin merely looked intrigued. Master Windu began to pace, his hands clasped behind his back as he carefully avoided stepping on Palpatine’s feet. He frowned thoughtfully as he walked, speaking a word here and there that made little sense to either of the other men. “A publicity nightmare…” Neatly, Mace stepped over the edge of the dead man’s robe and continued pacing. “We’ll take the blame of course.” He shook his head. “We always do – those stupid reporters!” Anakin opened his mouth to speak, but Obi-Wan quickly shook his head. “Don’t interrupt his train of thought,” he whispered. “I just wanted to-” “Sit down. Shut up. I’ll tell you when to talk,” Obi-Wan said tersely. Anakin started to protest and then took a good look at Obi-Wan’s face. He meekly sat down and folded his hands in his lap, looking very much like a chastised youngling. “There’s a solution, of course,” Mace muttered, still pacing. "I've just got to find it." “Of course there is, Master Windu,” Obi-Wan said soothingly. "And if anyone can find it, you can, Master Windu." "When are you two tying the knot?" Anakin asked, scrunching up his face in a kiss. "I said to be quiet," Obi-Wan snapped. “How come you get to talk?” Anakin asked indignantly. Obi-Wan hissed “Shush!” and put a finger to his lips. When he turned his back, Anakin made a face at him and gave an obscene gesture that would have gotten him arrested on a few systems. Still, he felt better for having done so. Abruptly, Mace stopped pacing. “I’ve got it!” “Excuse me, Master,” Obi-Wan said patiently. “But you’ve got what exactly?” “The answer to our dilemma here,” Mace replied. “I can help you hide his body,” Anakin offered helpfully. “I even know a guy…” Both Masters turned to glare at Anakin, who shrank down into his seat. “I was only offering…” “Never mind that now,” Mace said, waving his hands. “I’ve got a real solution.” “And that would be?” Anakin asked. “Simple. We pretend he isn’t dead,” Mace replied. -----signature----- Official Sock for the 2008 FFA--Saga Edition Have questions about the awards? PM us!
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SagaFanficAwards Title: Fanfiction Awards Sock: The Saga Registered: Jun '06	Date Posted: 6/24/08 1:00pm Subject: RE: 2008 Saga Fanfic Awards Excerpt Thread - Date Edited: 7/2/08 11:22am (4 edits total) Edited By: SagaFanficAwards
	Best Humor cont'd The Once and Future Sith Lord: Palpatine's Blog by Jaya Solo Author's Note: Palpatine began blogging his career as a Sith Lord and his take on various events from the saga. Er… sorry it’s been so long… seems being chancellor is actually like hard... Mood: Frustrated So the annoying queen lasted far too long for my taste. She stayed in for two whole terms as the monarch of Naboo. Why didn’t I see this coming? Oh... um... of course I saw this coming. It was better to have the little upstart off in her own little world where she couldn’t annoy me. Unlike now. Ahem. So there’s a new pesky queen. That’s okay. At least she hasn’t stopped a blockade and gained the favor of all of her subjects for years to come. But she has done something rather annoying. You see, pesky queen #2 nominated pesky queen #1 to be the Senator from Naboo. Do you see where this is going? Yes... now pesky queen #1 is the pesky Senator from Naboo. That means she gets to be in the Senate with me. Goody. So now I have to see her on a daily basis and pretend that I like her. I like her well enough when she’s doing what I want her to do, but that hardly ever happens. She’s so annoying sometimes. She wants the galaxy to be some happy, peaceful place where everyone has an equal chance at everything in life. La de da. She’s soooooo naive. Why can’t she see that power is what really matters and that I want ALL of it. At least her naiveté makes her not suspect that I’m up to anything. Now I have to figure out a way to get rid of the pesky former-queen turned senator for good. Off to plan more of my evil plot to take over the galaxy. Toodles. -Palpatine ----- I planned it this way. Seriously. Shut up. Stop laughing. Mood: Indifferent Okay, so here's the break down on what happened. As you last know, my future appy went all darkside and killed lots of people. Hehe. His master was then captured by his master's master. Hehe. Make sense? Well, if all had worked out in a perfect universe, said master would have been killed. But it's not perfect. Yet. So the love birds decide to go save his precious master. Seems they like him or something. They get captured too. It's a trend among that line of Jedi. (Something about not thinking before they act. I bet his kids would do the same thing... er... he won't have kids. What am I talking about?) So being the intelligent bad guys that my minions are ::sigh::, instead of just taking a blaster and shooting them, they decide to kill them in an epic manner. (Hey, I'd probably do the same. Who wants to kill things the old, boring way? It's more fun to watch them squirm.) They took out the three captives into an arena and let out these fierce creatures that tried to eat them. Of course our three annoying do-gooders won and killed the deadly creatures. It makes sense doesn't it? They can just defy all logic and survive something that would kill normal beings. But nooooo, they're like some super, ultra, uber living beings that survive the impossible. Look at me, I'm a Jedi. I do good things. I don't die because of it. The next part is where it gets really weird. So the annoying things are still alive, and then my appy pulls out his massive droid army. We can't let them walk away, now can we? Then the stupid reinforcements arrive. Yep, more stinking Jedi come to save the annoying things. They fight the droid army. Some of them die. Hehe. My bounty hunter gets his head cut off by the bald Jedi. That was kinda cool. Seriously, his head just fell off. It was great! You should see the video. It's on YouTube. So then the troll showed up with the clone army. Weird how those things happen, isn't it? The battle goes on and on. My appy ends up fighting my future appy and his master. My future appy gets his arm cut off. Poor thing. Then my appy kicks my future appy's master's butt. That video is also on YouTube complete with my commentary. It's awesome. Oh, so the troll... you wouldn't believe it! He's actually good at fighting! Who would have thought? He's like some freaking jumping frog that's hyped up on spice! That's cool to watch, even though he is a Jedi. Did any of that make sense? Yeah, long story short... um... I win! Seriously, if either side wins, I still win! Hehe! Seems I accidentally started the Clone Wars. Whoops. -Darth Sidious Beauty and the Brained by DarthIshtar "I'm not sure what to do," Luke confessed. "He's been like this for two days." "Two days?" Leia exclaimed. "You didn't think that I'd want to know?" "You were at that conference," Wedge pointed out. "Besides, Han would have killed us." "After he bankrupted us with sabacc," Wes added. "And made us eat his cooking," Hobbie concluded. Luke shot them an unamused look. "The point is," he interjected, "is I don't think he would want you to see him like this." Leia frowned in consternation. "I'm his friend," she pointed out, "and there is nothing shameful about being injured in the line of duty." That statement had an odd effect on the pilots. As one, they glanced away and scuffed their shoes nervously against the floor. "What?" she snapped. "It wasn't really in the line of duty," Wedge said sheepishly. "Not per se," agreed Hobbie. "More of a figurative..." Wes bluffed. "He brained himself with a hydrospanner," Luke clarified. That, for the first time, sounded perfectly in-character. Leia buried her forehead against her hand, eyes squeezed tight. "You said he was having difficulty with his memory," she groaned. "You don't do that braining yourself with a hydrospanner." "Well," Luke pointed out, "you do if you'd left it on the top shelf of the tool cabinet." She pinched the bridge of her nose. "How bad is it?" "Well," Hobbie muttered, "he thought we were his roommates at the Academy." "But Too-Onebee says there isn't really any permanent damage," Wes insisted cheerfully. "You remember how thick-headed he is." "So, why am I here?" Leia demanded, feeling more aggravated than anything. They exchanged slightly fearful looks and Wedge was the first to speak up. "Well, we were hoping you might do something to jog his memory," Luke suggested. "Call him a nerf-herder..." "Insult him..." "Or maybe just brain him with another hydrospanner." There was only one thing that she was absolutely certain would make him remember her. It was a ritual that they had undergone on Chandrila and they had both agreed that it was disturbingly unforgettable. "I've got an idea," she assured them. Crossing to Han's bed, she turned his face to her and kissed him long and hard, her right hand wrapped around the back of his neck. He squirmed for a moment, then relaxed and pulled back. "Hey, gorgeous," he muttered with a dopey grin. "I think I remember me." "Yes?" Leia asked hopefully. "Yeah," he sighed happily. "Wanna see my hydrospanner?" Infuriated that he would make a lascivious joke at such a time as this, Leia hauled off and slapped him as hard as she had kissed him. His eyes cleared. "Hey, Your Worship," he snapped. "What's the big idea? Wasn't it good for you?" She stalked off, fuming. Han didn't bother to call her back, but as she closed the medcenter door behind her, she heard his first comment to the pilots. "That's all you could come up with?" Han challenged. "Brained by my own hydrospanner?" -----signature----- Official Sock for the 2008 FFA--Saga Edition Have questions about the awards? PM us!
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SagaFanficAwards Title: Fanfiction Awards Sock: The Saga Registered: Jun '06	Date Posted: 6/24/08 1:01pm Subject: RE: 2008 Saga Fanfic Awards Excerpt Thread - Date Edited: 7/2/08 2:39pm (10 edits total) Edited By: SagaFanficAwards
	Best All-Around Nobody's Baby by Divapilot I sat at the bar for a little bit, then quietly made my way over to the table where Han was sitting. He and Chewie looked up. “Hey, handsome,” I said. “Can a girl sit over here with you boys?” Han smiled that adorable crooked smile. “Sure,” he said, scooting over. He put his arm around me as I sat next to him. It felt nice. “Anyone look familiar?” he asked quietly. “Not yet. I’ll let you know. I’m expecting him any minute,” I said quietly back. I played with the open collar of his shirt. “Do we still have a deal?” I asked. Han laughed. “Yeah, we still have a deal. You save my skin, I’ll save yours. Then maybe you can tell me why a pretty little thing like yourself is in such a big hurry to get out of here.” “Maybe,” I said sweetly. I rested my head on his shoulder. Oh, that was really nice. I scanned the room once more, and this time I felt my skin crawl. I reached over and kissed Han’s cheek, then whispered in his ear. “It’s the Rodian. The one in the spacer’s jacket. His name is Greedo.” Han nuzzled my neck. “What’s his weakness?” he murmured. “Other than he’s an arrogant fool? He aims his blaster too high.” Han snorted. “How would you know?” he asked dryly. “Because he pulled his blaster on me. I noticed how he held the blaster. If he had shot at me, the scorching thing would have gone over my shoulder. He held it too high and to the right.” Han leaned back and stared at me, one eyebrow raised. “No kidding.” “No kidding. He gets so excited about what he’s doing that he gets sloppy, and he starts to hold it too high.” “Huh,” Han said. “You’re tougher than you look. How’d you get involved in all this?” “Let’s just say it involves a lot of Jabba’s money. Money that Greedo’s gonna try to pin on you and Chewie. Han, Greedo doesn’t care about the bounty on your heads; he just wants you dead.” *** “Son of a Sith-spawned sarlacc!” someone hissed next to me. Liru gestured toward Greedo’s still smoking body. “I just cleaned up.” I put a comforting hand on her arm. “Hey, I’ll help you,” I said. We managed to drag the body into the back room, then we put him down and took a rest. I had felt something in Greedo’s pocket, so while Liru was going through Greedo’s trouser pockets looking for his money clip, I pick-pocketed a set of cardkeys. I wondered if one of them was for the speeder he took from Pat in exchange for my life. The speeder that Pat blamed me for losing on him, I remembered bitterly. Liru flipped through Greedo’s money clip and sighed as she counted the money. “There’s hardly anything here,” she said, disappointed. “I have to leave most of it for Chalmun to find, but here--” she pulled off a few credits, then gave half to me. “Thanks again for helping me.” I shook my hand at the money and thanked her. “We take care of our own around here, Liru,” I said. She shrugged, then put the money she offered me into her pocket and stuck the money clip back into Greedo’s trouser pants. After stuffing Greedo’s body in the freezer, Liru and I went back to the cantina. There were stormies all over the place. One of them blocked my path. “You!” he barked at me. I turned around, annoyed. “Yeah?” “Did you see anyone come in here with a pair of droids?” plastic head man said. “This is a cantina. No one comes in here with droids,” I said smartly. I put my hand on my hip. “What droids are you looking for? Maybe I could sell you a couple.” The stormtrooper didn’t seem too happy with my answer. “This is important government business, Miss. We are looking for a protocol droid and an R2 unit. They were stolen from a magistrate in Mos Espa.” My mind went right to the farm kid and those droids of his. “Oh, yeah?” I asked. “Is there a reward?” He stood back stiffly. “Service to the Empire is reward enough.” I snorted. “Then no, I didn’t see no droids.” I pushed past the stormtrooper and made my way out. Even if there was a reward, I sure as the suns wasn’t going to hand over that kid to the stormies. Like I said, we take care of our own. This Time Around by Idrelle_Miocovani A/N: Having traveled into the past on a mission to prevent Anakin Skywalker from falling to the Dark side, Kyp Durron attempts to help Anakin rescue Padmé from an assassination attempt carried out by the clones during Order 66. Kyp panted as he dodged the oncoming barrage of blaster fire, his lightsaber weaving back and forth as he batted away the red bolts. Anakin was beside him now, his blue blade burning with a passion that equaled his own. “How many of them are there?” he demanded. “Too many,” Kyp replied grimly, swerving to the right. “We can’t hold forever.” “We don’t need to,” Anakin said. “We just need to hold them off long enough.” With that, he slashed viciously at the closest clone trooper and continued to press onwards. A frantic bleeping sounded behind them. Kyp glanced quickly behind him; R2-D2 was rolling out of a room that the clones seemed to have overlooked. Behind him, he towed the legless body of C-3PO. The protocol droid was protesting as loud as his programming allowed. “Ouch! Do watch where you’re going, Artoo—” Anakin ducked a flying blaster bolt and looked towards the droids, a grin lighting up his expression. “Artoo!” he shouted. “Threepio!” “Master Anakin!” C-3PO exclaimed from the floor, waving his arms. “Please help, the clones have invaded –” “Durron, get the droids back to the speeder!” Anakin ordered. “Wait for me, I’ll be coming!” He flipped himself through the air and ran towards the retreating, but still attacking, clone troopers. “Anakin!” Kyp shouted, but soon Anakin was out of sight. Rolling his eyes and swearing under his breath, Kyp took off down the hall towards the veranda where Anakin had landed the speeder only a few minutes earlier. The droids followed him. Padmé was waiting in the speeder, her face pale and her hands tightly grasping a blaster which she held in her lap. She seemed to be staring off into nothing, her lips moving silently. Kyp made sure that no stray clones were coming after him before he deactivated his lightsaber and approached the speeder. C-3PO was arguing insistently with R2-D2 and Kyp ignored them both as he detached 3PO’s broken metal body from R2-D2 and unceremoniously threw the protocol droid into the back of the speeder. R2 twittered. “Oh, shut up,” Kyp muttered. “Where’s Anakin?” Padmé demanded, glancing at him. “He’s coming,” Kyp told her. “He asked me to come back and wait. “ “What happened?” Padmé asked quietly. Kyp raised his head and looked off into the distance. He could just make out the shape of the Jedi Temple on the horizon. Smoke was drifting away from it, up into the sky. “See for yourself,” he said, pointing. Padmé turned and looked. Her mouth opened in surprise. She looked exactly the same way Jaina looked when she was in shock. “How? Why?” Kyp swallowed hard. “Palpatine,” he said simply. “It was Palpatine. He ordered the attack on the Jedi Temple. Anakin, Yoda and I tried to save as many Jedi as we could, but we arrived too late. We saved ten younglings and two Padawans. They’re with Bail Organa right now. Anakin contacted him and asked for help.” Padmé pressed a hand to her mouth. “Palpatine…?” “Yes,” Kyp said heavily. “Anakin hasn’t had a chance to tell you yet, then.” “He told me that there’s a possibility of Palpatine being controlled by a Sith Lord,” Padmé said. What? “When was this?” Kyp demanded. She had never mentioned it during their previous conversation. “Several days ago,” Padmé told him. “Maybe more than a week. He said that Obi-Wan told him that.” Oh, Kyp thought. More than a week? That was before this all happened. That’s when Jaina left. He shook the thought from his mind. He couldn’t let his fears for her preoccupy him. Kyp turned his thoughts back to the present situation. “It’s worse than that, Padmé,” Kyp said. “Palpatine is the Sith Lord.” Blue Sun Down by Darth Marrs Simon bristled, and then took a deep breath to overcome his initial reaction. “If you must know, she’s receiving a combination of agents including an antipsychotic, a mood stabilizer, an anxiolytic agent and an antidepressant. It’s a cocktail I’ve been balancing for her particular metabolism. Without the medications she becomes violent both to herself and others.” With his explanation complete, Simon completed the preparation of the injection and nodded to his sister as she climbed up on the table. Suddenly the needle flew from his fingers into the Jedi’s waiting hands. “Mr. Vos, I really appreciate your concern,” Simon said, knowing better that to threaten a man who single-handedly wiped out the Alliance academy. “But I am a very good doctor, and I have been treating my sister for over a year now.” Quinlan put the syringe down on a nearby counter. “I feel your love and dedication to her, Doctor. I do not doubt your motivations or your qualifications. But your medicines do not help the problem. They cover it up.” The Jedi placed his palm against River’s head. She closed her eyes and leaned into the contact, much like a cat leaning into a stroke. “Her mind has been ripped open to the Force using someone else’s genetic and…cerebral material. She’s suffering memories of Lorana’s last moments. Of pain that no living person would ever experience and live. Your medicine can’t help that.” “But you can?” Simon said hotly. Vos dropped his hand. River opened her eyes and stared at the Jedi. “My knight in shining armor,” she said in a sing-song fashion. “I think he can. I want him to try.” Simon sighed and turned to start putting the many viols away. “I can’t stop you, Mei Mei,” he said. “But I will be monitoring you very closely. If things start to feel wrong, you need to tell me.” River nodded. To Vos, Simon said, “Some of the drugs I’ve been giving her do have an addictive quality. There may be some withdrawal symptoms that simply can’t be helped.” He looked at both of them. “The next few days will be very difficult.” “With the Force, all things are possible,” Vos said calmly. Six hours later, during the middle of the ship’s sleep cycle, River sat up in her bed in a cold sweat. The drops of cold rolled down her skin like icy, grasping fingers. She looked up and saw how the shadows leered at her. They spoke harsh, guttural words to her. They wanted to consume her. To sacrifice her to something even darker. With a terrified whimper, she curled up on her cot and tried to cover herself. Her eyes sought Kaylee’s bunk, but it was empty. The mechanic must have been in Simon’s room. The shadows lunged and roared. She covered her eyes and cried out. Then she felt a large hand on her shoulder. It was not a shadow. It felt warm and real and alive. She leaned forward and a pair of arms enveloped her. “Make them go away,” she cried. Quinlan’s deep, soothing voice washed over her. As if singing a lullaby, he said over and over again: There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no death, there is the Force. Perhaps an hour later, Kaylee stepped into the room to discover Quinlan Vos sitting on River’s cot, with River curled up like a baby on his lap wearing only her sleeping shirt. It was at once touching, and slightly unnerving to see how gently the large man held her. “Uh, Mr. Vos?” Kaylee whispered. “Dr. Tam warned us of withdrawal symptoms,” Vos said quietly. “She has had a difficult night. But she is doing better now.” Kaylee couldn’t help but smile as she sat down. “I’d say. She’s a bit shiny on you.” She was expecting Vos to smile. He did not. Instead, he stared into the middle of the room as if somewhere else. “You okay?” “Just remembering everything I have lost,” he said softly. “Not even the strongest of Jedi are immune from pain.” Kaylee stifled a yawn. “You just treat her right, no matter what.” The Jedi did smile then, and even chuckled. “Don’t worry, child. I’ll not harm your friend. Just the opposite. It is my hope when all is said and done, very little will be able to harm her.” The Love of a Prince by Lady_Jade Author's Note: Please keep in mind that this is an AU. In this part, Padmé and Anakin meet for the first time. One outside, Padmé made her way down towards the lake that bordered her backyard, intending to go sit there in an attempt to sort out her thoughts. However, she soon realized that she would not find the solace she had expected because someone was already there. The light streaming down from the full moon above allowed her to see that the figure’s hair brushed against its shoulders. “Who’s there?” she called, readying herself in case the stranger was not friendly. The person spun around, its hand reaching for something at its waist. Padmé tensed, fearing the person was reaching for a blaster. But when the figure spotted her, it withdrew its empty hand. Padmé relaxed, but only slightly. “Forgive me,” a male voice called out. “I did not mean to startle you.” “Did you also not mean to trespass?” Padmé inquired. “I had not intended to,” the man answered. “But your view is…calming.” Without knowing why, Padmé took a few steps forward, trying to get a better look at him. “Who are you?” The man bowed slightly before answering, “Anakin Skywalker; Jedi Knight.” Padmé’s eyes widened in recognition. “The Anakin Skywalker? The Hero With No Fear?” “Among other names,” Anakin said, a smile evident in his tone of voice. “And you are?” “Padmé Naberrie,” Padmé responded. Anakin smiled, and then reached forward to take her hand in his own. “Well Miss Padmé it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Leaning forward he brushed a feather light kiss on the back of her hand. Padmé was startled to feel herself blushing and was thankful for the darkness that mostly hid her features. “What are you doing here?” she asked, trying to cover up the awkward silence. “I was meditating,” Anakin answered as he released her hand. “In my backyard?” Padmé asked skeptically. “This place is soothing,” Anakin said in way of explanation. “Right,” Padmé said, drawing out the word. “Does my presence make you uncomfortable?” “Not exactly,” Padmé said. “But what I meant was why are you here on Naboo, instead of on Yavin IV?” “I am…exploring my options.” At Padmé’s confused expression, he clarified, “I’m trying to find my place in this galaxy.” “But you’re a Jedi,” Padmé pointed out. “You’re needed everywhere.” “That’s the problem though,” Anakin said. “I am needed everywhere, but I can’t be everywhere. I want to find the place where I am needed most.” A few minutes passed in silence before he asked, “Is that strange?” “I think it is admirable,” Padmé admitted. “You want to go where you can do the most good and help the most number of people.” Anakin nodded. “Exactly.” A thought occurred to Padmé at that moment, and before she could stop herself, she was asking, “Forgive my bluntness, but if you have been here on Naboo, where were you when the dance studio caught on fire?” Anakin seemed to look closer at her. “You were there?” Padmé nodded, and Anakin sighed. “Believe me when I say that if I could have been there I would have. When I felt the disturbance I was on the other side of Theed, and by the time I made it to the studio the fire was already out.” He was about to say more, when a new voice joined the conversation. “Anakin! Anakin, for Force sake where are you?” Anakin ducked his head and muttered, “He found me.” “Who found you?” Before Anakin could answer, a man appeared from around the house, his cloak billowing out behind him. “There you are! I was starting to think you had – oh!” Anakin’s friend stopped short as he took notice of Padmé’s presence. Anakin beckoned the man forward. “Padmé, may I introduce my friend and former Master, Obi-Wan Kenobi? Obi-Wan, this is Padmé Naberrie.” Obi-Wan bowed in greeting. “Forgive the intrusion milady. We were only passing through, and-” “No, it isn’t a problem Master Kenobi,” Padmé reassured him. “Still, we should be on our way,” Obi-Wan said with a pointed look at Anakin. “Of course,” Anakin said. He turned to Padmé. “I am glad to have met you, Padmé.” And with a swirl of his cloak, he and Obi-Wan were fading back into the darkness. Padmé could only stare as the two Jedi left, amazed that she had even met them at all. For the Love of the Queen by JediMasterRev Author’s Note: In this scene, Anakin is fighting the Mandalorian leader Valkin Ord who has received instruction in the dark side by Count Dooku. Valkin has built a ship that has the ability to destroy a planet and has also taken Padmé captive. Anakin was sent to not only rescue her, but stop Ord before he destroys Naboo. Fatigued, Ord wearily shook his head. “No…no…never.” He raised his hands, poised to unleash another volley of Force lightening when Anakin used one of his lightsaber to deflect the onslaught and the other to deliver a fatal slash across Valkin’s torso. When Ord fell backwards, he gurgled. “You can’t stop the inevitable, Skywalker…. they will capture your soul as they did mine.” Valkin’s eyes stared off blankly as Anakin pulled back, uncertain what Ord had meant. The loud hum of the reactor powering up shifted his attention back to the problem at hand. Anakin rushed over to the only remaining operational terminal. A cold chill shot down his spine. Ord’s crew had set the firing protocol to commence. Five minutes to fire. . He pressed several buttons, hoping to drop the ray shield, but it remained unaffected. Glancing back up, a thought occurred to him. Anakin raced to the ray shield and turned his lightsaber to full power. He lobbed the weapon at it, but it remained steady as the weapon simply bounced off of it. Dismayed, his concentration was again broken when he sensed Padmé’s presence nearby. From the corner of his eye, he saw her run down a ramp. Suddenly, she stopped and raised her blaster at him. Anakin froze and before he could think, she fired several shots in his direction. With the only option of ducking, he leaned down and heard a wailed cry of pain from behind. Anakin spun his head around to see Valkin drop his lightsaber while grasping his bleeding throat. Ord stumbled over the catwalk rail and fell several meters to his death. Recovering from the shock of what just happened, Padmé ran over and wrapped her arms around him while kissing him profusely. Anakin held her tightly for several seconds until a warning klaxon screamed its warning Four minutes to fire. “We need to leave!” shouted Padmé “We have find a way to get through those ray shields…I can’t destroy the reactor otherwise.” “What do we do?” asked Padmé horrified. Feel, don’t think… Anakin grinned as he looked over at the ray shield again. “Stand back,” he warned. Once Padmé complied, he allowed the Force to enter his being. In that instant, he felt as if he was connected to every living thing in the universe. Anakin experienced their hopes, dreams, pains, sorrows, skills and most importantly, their collective knowledge. Determined, he raised his hands and tendrils of bright energy erupted, striking the ray shield. In his mind’s eye, Anakin could feel the shields weakening, but he was also cautious not to strike the reactor. “You did it!” he heard Padmé jubilantly cheer. The whitish afterglow of the ray shield was gone and he had clear access to the main control panel. He darted over and attempted to shut down the firing sequence. To his dismay, Valkin had not been lying. Frantically, Anakin searched for any system he could control that could help disable the main weapon before it fired. Padmé had quietly moved next to him. “What’s wrong?” “The entire control network has been heavily encrypted…. I can’t get access.” Two minutes to fire. “Now what do we do?” Anakin looked around the room and saw a single escape pod still docked. He grabbed Padmé’s hand and guided her to it. Upon opening the door, he saw that it was built for one. Anakin nodded to himself, knowing without hesitation what had to be done. “You’ve got to leave, anera!” “I’m not going without you, Anakin!” “It only seats one.” Anakin said, stating the obvious. “I’m not leaving you alone,” Padmé screamed. “We are doing this together!” Anakin looked at her lovingly and dipped his head in agreement. He pulled her towards him for a passionate kiss. Slightly withdrawing, he gently swiped his finger over her forehead. Padmé’s face contorted in utter befuddlement as unconsciousness rapidly took hold of her. Before she drifted off Anakin whispered in her ear. “Good-bye, my angel.” -----signature----- Official Sock for the 2008 FFA--Saga Edition Have questions about the awards? PM us!
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SagaFanficAwards Title: Fanfiction Awards Sock: The Saga Registered: Jun '06	Date Posted: 6/24/08 1:01pm Subject: RE: 2008 Saga Fanfic Awards Excerpt Thread - Date Edited: 7/2/08 12:53pm (6 edits total) Edited By: SagaFanficAwards
	Best All-Around cont'd For Such a Time as This by Master_Noi “The Dark side clouds everything.” Never had those words been more real to Anakin than at the moment. A heavy shroud of darkness rested over Coruscant, and it had seemed to swallow the Sith whole, without a trace. Trudging on ahead was useless and not really wise, he decided. “Deceive you your eyes can, Padawan. Reach out with your senses you must. You must feel the Force around you.” Anakin closed his eyes, letting go of his conscious mind, welcoming the Force. As he tapped into the ancient energy, a smile quirked his lips at the voices of Light in the distance, reminding him he wasn’t alone in the dark. The Force was always with him. It flowed through everything and when he stretched out with his senses, the very walls of the tunnels were his eyes, and he could ‘see’ for miles. Siri holding Bren’an, her father helping the pair toward Garen. Qui-Gon looking for him, Obi-Wan closing in behind. And ahead … a trap. Anakin dropped to his knees just as a crimson blade that would have decapitated him passed overhead. Smiling, he whirled around to meet the Sith’s next strike. “Have to do better than that,” he taunted. “So I see.” The Sith’s eyes took on an eerie glow as he studied his opponent. The Darkness surged, choking the Force around Anakin. He had never sensed it so strong before. It chilled his body and whispered to him. His steps faltered, and the Sith kicked him back against the wall. Anakin countered with a fierce attack of rapid downward slashes that drove his foe down the tunnel. Xanatos feinted then flattened himself against the wall, his blade swiping Anakin’s thigh as the young Jedi charged to meet what he thought was an attack. Anakin dropped to the ground, gritting his teeth as he clutched the wound. He quickly scrambled back to his feet, finding it difficult to put weight on the now-injured leg. “Ready to finish this and die?” Xanatos asked. “Not even close.” It was the Chosen One’s destiny to destroy the Sith, and Anakin was determined to not get killed by the first one he faced. His leg burned, and he was aware that he now lacked the strength for the powerful step-through strikes required of the combination of Shien and Djem So forms he had adopted. He had been trained in Ataru – his aged, hobbling master used it because it compensated for his advanced years. The form had landed Anakin flat on his back in many a spar session. Though, he disliked it and a closed tunnel was hardly the best place to use it, he needed the compromise. Drawing on the Force, he launched himself forward, his injured leg barely skimming the ground as he attacked. The two foes battered each other, Anakin a constant blur of motion, never giving the Sith a moment to recover between attacks. A smile slipped across his lips as he sensed Qui-Gon approach. Obi-Wan wasn’t far behind, and between the three of them, the Sith didn’t stand a chance. But as Qui-Gon came up behind them, Xanatos did something entirely unexpected. Throwing his arm out front, a strong Force push sent Anakin flailing into Qui-Gon, the pair barely having time to disengage their sabers to keep from impaling each other. Anakin struggled to get up, the wind knocked out of him. He began to run until he heard the whine of a speeder fleeing from the end of the tunnel. The Sith had slipped through his fingers. *** “You need to rest, now.” Obi-Wan was stretched out on the sleep couch next to where Siri was snuggled down under the blankets. The pain-killers were lulling his wife to sleep despite the fact she was fighting them with every ounce of strength she had left. Obi-Wan wasn’t sure she would ever forgive Bant for drugging her. “I want to be in on the meeting …” Siri protested sleepily. “You have a long trip tomorrow,” he said, pushing a few stray strands of hair out of her face. “Not going,” she slurred. “You promised,” Obi-Wan pleaded. “How can I do what I need to when I am worried for your and Bren’an’s safety?” “I’m a Jedi.” “Yes, and you are also a wife and mother. It about killed me today to not be able to come to you right away when I knew you were in trouble.” Leaning in, he pressed his lips against his wife’s, nearly begging her with his eyes as he pulled away. “Please.” She nodded, finally giving in to the sleep that beckoned her. Placing one last kiss on her forehead, he slipped from their room and into the corridor. The Consort by AnakinsFavorite Summary: The main character, an OC named Aria, was forced into a conflicted marriage with Darth Vader. In the story, it is revealed that her mother was Padmé. In this excerpt, Aria has stumbled upon a sleepwalking Vader in the Bast gardens… and they have the most interesting conversation together. He continued to stare at her, uncomprehending. “I thought you were dead.” It was then that the girl realized what was really going on. “My Lord, you are sleepwalking. Please, allow me to escort you back to your chambers.” Hardly believing those words had come from her own mouth- after all, if he woke up, she would be in grave danger- she stood there for a moment wondering what to do. Then, with a gentle but trembling hand, she took his arm, ready to steer the Sith Lord back into the castle. Though being gently tugged, the Dark Lord stood still in his place. “I-I was afraid,” he confessed. A shiver went up her spine, and Aria pulled her robe more tightly about her shaking figure under the pressure of his gaze. “My Lord, I am not one to give you orders, but please… do be silent. I wouldn’t wish for you to say anything that you might regret.” It seemed that he either didn’t hear her or chose to ignore her, but Vader instead took both of her hands in his. “I was afraid that I would never see you again,” he whispered. Then, he began to place gentle kisses upon her palm, turning the flesh against his lips. “It wasn’t my fault- I promise. Obi-Wan didn’t tell me that... Please, do not hate me,” he begged, tears welling up in his eyes. “I am so sorry…” Vader wept, hanging his head. His great shoulders trembled. With a great sniff, he looked up at her, tears streaming down his face though his voice was much more steadier. “Do you hate me?” Though she desperately wanted to yell that she was not her mother, Aria became torn. The look in her husband’s eyes was so pained that she couldn’t help but feel sympathy for the man he’d once been. “No, I do not hate you,” she said, allowing her hands to relax in his grip. As long as he remained in a dreamer’s state, all would be well. Instantly, Vader seemed to relax, and his whole body seemed to sigh in relief. “I cannot undo what has been done… but I promise to make it up to you, Padmé.” “V-Anakin,” she stumbled, “why would I ever be mad at you?” Whether or not his dreamer’s phase was ending, Vader seemed to falter for a minute. Confusion crossed his eyes, and he dropped his gaze from looking at her. “I… well… see… I- I don’t remember.” Startled by the thought of how much easier it was to look at him when he wasn’t all angry, she timidly touched his cheek. When he did not retaliate but instead turned his face to her touch, Aria cupped his cheek. “Anakin, what happened? You can tell me anything- I promise to tell no one.” Already, the girl could see the haze being slowly lifted from his eyes. Vader shook his head a few times. “I- I… what time is it?” With that, the spell was broken, and Aria backed away from him. “A-Aria?” he cried out from where he was positioned in the maze of a garden. Breathing heavily, the woman rushed along, nervously looking back to make sure that he was not following her. She stumbled over a fallen branch but, pulling up the hem of her nightgown and robe so that it would not be trailing in the mud, Aria continued to run along. I must get inside… if I can just get to my quarters, he won’t suspect… Then, suddenly, it became deathly quiet, so silent that she even paused to listen. Not even so much as a leaf rustled or a small animal make a sound. Her own heart seemed to be pounding within her so loudly that she feared he might hear… The silence continued, but the young mother continued to stand there, listening. Turning about, she looked to her right… and to her left, but there was no one. Relief welled up within her but, just as she let out a small sigh, there was such a feral scream that the hair upon her arm stood up rigid. While in one moment she was standing, Aria found herself being thrown against the nearest trellis, something heavy on top of her. “What did you hear?” Vader bellowed, shaking her from where she laid beneath him. Her eyes rolled in her head, but no mercy in the form of unconsciousness came to her. -----signature----- Official Sock for the 2008 FFA--Saga Edition Have questions about the awards? PM us!
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SagaFanficAwards Title: Fanfiction Awards Sock: The Saga Registered: Jun '06	Date Posted: 6/24/08 1:01pm Subject: RE: 2008 Saga Fanfic Awards Excerpt Thread - Date Edited: 6/30/08 1:08pm (8 edits total) Edited By: SagaFanficAwards
	Most Underrated Scars of Discipline by ardavenport They saluted each other with a brief easy twirl before bringing their lightsabers up before them. As the observer, at the side of the arena, Obi-Wan initiated the match. "Begin." They simultaneously lunged back, sabers poised and pointed at their opponent, a long thoughtful pause, each fighter appraising the other. Their lightsabers snapped and buzzed ominously, locking together between them on their first engagement. Though older, Dooku had lost none of his fighting strength. They separated, attacking and defending with rapid blows, glowing saber blades clashing, wheeling around to strike and counter-strike, green on blue, blue on green. They separated again, circling this time. "After all this time I would have expected better from you Qui-Gon," Dooku said with a grin of confidence. His self-assurance radiated outward in the Force. He found his old apprentice predictable. Qui-Gon whirled. Dooku blocked his offensive, but Qui-Gon rebounded from it low, going for Dooku's ankles. The older man jumped and forced Qui-Gon back. "Don't retreat, Qui-Gon. Press your advantage," Dooku said as he demonstrated, blue blade whirling before him. "I don't know how you managed to defeat that Sith on Naboo fighting like this." Backed to the edge of the circle, Qui-Gon ducked to the side, but Dooku anticipated as if the Force tied them together with a string with Dooku pulling his end with skill and Qui-Gon's slipping away. He felt as if he were twelve years old again, his Master drilling him mercilessly to mold and improve his skills. Whirling away, Qui-Gon took a defensive stance in the center of the arena, his green saber poised and pointed at Dooku's chest. It wasn't he who was feeling the past, it was Dooku who ruled with knowledge and an overwhelming elder's confidence. But that was the past. Feigning indecision, Qui-Gon let Dooku attack. He defended, concentrating on deflecting the other blade and holding his position. He evaluated Dooku as if he were a new opponent. His saber blade came down close to Dooku's ear, driving him to the side. "Better!" Dooku exclaimed gleefully, his eyes shining. But the compliment was only meant to reposition himself as teacher and Master. Qui-Gon twirled his blade, but Dooku ignored the minor distraction, his eyes remaining locked on his objective before he attacked again. Qui-Gon blocked and their sabers locked again at the hilts. A wall of power in the Force, Dooku really was like a new opponent. His smooth elegance was now a towering presence threatening to crush him from above and from all sides. He had clearly made good use of his time away from the Temple. Qui-Gon's hand shot out, physically connecting to Dooku's chest. The Force whooshed out from him in one great push. Dooku went flying backwards, hitting the wall and then sliding down it, stunned. At the side of the arena, Obi-Wan stared with open-mouthed shock. It had been a completely illegal move. But Dooku was already struggling to his feet. "I may have underestimated you, Qui-Gon," Dooku said, striding back into the ring. "Perhaps," Qui-Gon responded. "Nevertheless, the match is yours." "Technically." He seemed quite unconcerned with who had won or how. Reigniting their sabers, they gave each other a final ceremonial salute. "I am still pleased to see that you appreciate unconventional tactics. You would do well to instruct your new Padawan that way." He extended his arm to the open doorway. Anakin Skywalker stood there watching them. The boy warily went to where a shirtless Obi-Wan stood. "What's this?" he asked, looking dubiously from one to the other of his elders. "Lightsaber training," Qui-Gon told him. "Obi-Wan," he invited the young Knight into the arena. Dooku walked around him. Anakin made a face as the older man towered over him. He and Dooku tended to challenge each other, a young boy's independent streak matched against a senior Master's sense of superiority. The friction between them was annoying, but Qui-Gon thought Dooku was a much better influence on young Anakin than the new Supreme Chancellor of the Republic, who had taken an unhealthy interest in his new pupil's training. Qui-Gon had successfully kept the older politician away from the boy, with Dooku's help, though his former Master admonished him to not speculate about what Palpatine might be interested in. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan faced each other in the center of the arena. They saluted. Again, Obi-Wan's eyes looked toward the small scars on Qui-Gon's body. The young Knight had no obvious scars from his missions as Qui-Gon's Padawan. All his injuries had all been treated in med-centers. He had no saber scars. Except for one. His right forearm ended where the Sith on Naboo had cut off his wrist and hand. The Tale of Jorec Merridon by whiskers Jorec looked into the pure black “eyes” on the mask of Darth Vader as the two stood across from the other. The flickering lights of the spaceport reflected off of those eyes and parts of the armor, giving the already menacing-looking Sith Lord an even more frightening appearance. A black and silver lightsaber was removed from the belt of Vader and was held in his right hand. The Jedi turned his head towards his terrified wife and children. Lia was shaking from the fright, the malevolence oozing out from the Sith Lord being felt by her despite her non Force-sensitivity. Gavin and Rosa just stood in their spots, frozen. Jorec cleared his throat and then issued as forceful an order to them as he could. “When I tell you to go, head for the door and run as fast as you can to the ship.” Lia looked up at him, fully knowing what those words meant. She opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted. “Go!” Jorec shouted, using a surge in the Force to both open the doorway as well as provide their cover. A metal trash bin shifted off of the floor for less than a second before flying up from its previous spot and towards the dark lord. Concerned with his own temporary safety, Vader neglected to send a Force barrage towards the fleeing family and instead deflected the bin into a nearby wall. A loud clang echoed through as the bin hit the wall, masking the sound the door closing and then being quickly and rather hastily sealed by Gavin’s lightsaber. Now it was just the two of them. Vader walked towards the door, igniting his lightsaber, ready to cut through the door. “I’m still here, Vader,” Jorec said, igniting his own lightsaber and taking a step towards the Sith. “You’re not getting to them, EVER!” he added. Darth Vader turned and looked towards the Jedi, and the glowing blue blade. “You do not realize the folly of your actions,” Vader replied, bringing the crimson lightsaber up into a guard position. “You cannot defeat me. You will lose.” Jorec charged towards the Sith slightly, intent on letting himself control the fight for the first crucial seconds. He slashed as he ran past Vader, the red blade disconcertingly easily moving up to block the attack. Jorec spun around and brought his blade up in an attempt to stop the Sith’s blade that was headed towards him. The red blade was intercepted, but kept moving, simply batting down Jorec’s blade. If lightsabers had emitted heat, Jorec would have felt it on his throat and chin as it passed within centimeters of him. The Jedi rapidly backed up. He brought his right foot forward, raising his arms above his head, poised to strike downwards. Vader moved, seemingly to block the upcoming attack. Jorec pivoted on his right foot, twisting around the Sith Lord and bringing his ‘saber around to slice through the armored enemy’s back. His blade found only Vader’s blade, the Sith Lord having seen through his feint and acted accordingly. He was lucky that he was still alive at the moment. He backed away yet again. He ran through the past two moves that he had attempted in his head and knew that it was nearly impossible to be on offensive against such a powerful foe. It may have worked against Larrn, but Vader had been a fully promoted Jedi Knight when the deceased Twi’lek Inquisitor and Jorec had been mere younglings. He would have to let Vader take on the majority of the offense, and to resort to fending off the powerful attacks. Vader lunged towards Jorec, a powerful attack that Jorec was barely able to dodge. Even as he brought his lightsaber down against Vader’s, trapping it, he could smell smoke as part of his loose shirt had been charred. Jorec slammed his body into Vader’s, afraid to risk taking a hand off of his lightsaber for an elbow smash. Vader didn’t budge and instead used a cybernetic and Force-assisted boost of strength to unlock the two lightsaber. Jorec’s jaw cracked and nearly dislocated as Vader’s elbow connected. Jorec backed away once again, spitting out blood and the tooth that had become dislodged by the attack. Jorec concentrated deeply despite the pain in his jaw, his lightsaber wavering only slightly as the Jedi moved his arms, waiting for the next attack. It came a second later, and Jorec met it, preventing the crimson from sinking into his flesh. Vader fell back for the briefest of seconds and lifted his left hand towards Jorec, sending a maelstrom of Force power towards the Jedi’s chest. Jorec slammed into the wall behind him meters away from where he once stood, his back throbbing in pain from the attack. The Broken Shell by HeKilledYounglings Her slender fingers raked through the sand, catching a handful in her palm. She watched as the dark brown grains slipped through her closed fist. Like time, as she laid beside a sparkling blue ocean where the waves battered her listless body, the sun painted her flesh gold, and streaked the coils of her dark hair at the nape of her neck, and along her face, bright yellow. The sound of laughter rang out. She stirred, opening her closed eyes. Two plump happy looking four year-olds sank into the sand behind her, pulling and tugging at her arms. "Play with us mommy," the girl yelled. A wave crashed over them. And just behind, the little girl's father instantly stood, his eyes checking to see if they were alright. They were. He sat down again, the heels of his booted feet digging into the sand as he motioned the child to distance herself from the rising tide. "Come, Leia," he said. The girl ran toward him, chubby legs running as fast as they would carry her, smiling, arms wide. He smiled. Suddenly, a handful of sand crashed into the back of his head. He turned, grabbing the boy, Luke, by the arms, and slinging him over his shoulder playful-like. "How come you never play with mommy?" Luke asked, giggling. Children had a way of saying things that were never to be said aloud. Anakin knew his wife, Padme had heard. Still she did not move, lost in her thoughts. "Come... Padme," Anakin called. He stood again, suddenly ready to leave. He towered over the two children, who clamoured to hang from his legs. A gleam of sweat trickled down the center of his chest. He pulled the towel he carried from around his neck and wiped it away. "Padme!" he called again. She heard him. He knew she heard him. Anakin watched her. Expensive jewelry adorning her neck, brass bangles on her arms. Beautiful and slender, her hips rising from the curve of her waist like a small bell. The sheer empire style covering she wore over her two piece suit clung to her like a second skin, seaweed from the tide wrapped around her legs and feet . His eyes were forever drawn to his Padme. She could enter a room, and he would lose focus, his mind moving wherever she went, his spirit walking in the echoes of her footprints, wishing he could hold her hand and go wherever she were going... even if only, to another room. "Move her," Anakin ordered, signaling a nearby storm trooper…. Who I Am by MsLanna They say I will live. They say it will take much more time than it already has, but I will live. I cannot remember how long it has already taken. They say, I should write this all down so I will remember. They say, I might remember again - one day. But they also say, I might forget what I know now then. * * * I read the entry of yesterday. I know I wrote it, but I can't remember. The longer I stare at the flimsy the more confused I get. I understand now, why they didn't give me a data pad. I recognize my handwriting. I wrote - but I don't remember. They said that would happen. I believe them now. * * * I looked at the journal and said, "I know this book. I have written in it." I could not remember what or how often, though. But I can learn again. I can remember again. They say they cannot give me free access to a terminal; it would be against the rules. But I can use one when they are with me. I get an hour each day. But they have given me a small pad and I can borrow data cards from a small library. The data is old. The data is censored and filtered many times. This data is useless -- this I know. * * * I try to remember outside before the blackout. But I am not sure what I see, is it a positive or a negative? Is the rolling landscape around me made up from roaring waves in a black ocean, or is it made of sand dunes, bleached by the blistering sunlight? The sensation pouring over me, is it the heat of the sun scorching me, or torrents of rain in a storm whipping up the sea? Is it midday or black of night? I don't know which image is right, light or darkness, night or day, positive or negative -- evil or good? Or is it that I am indeed standing between both sides, looking either way? I can almost taste the rain on my face, this is important. I can feel the dust grating between my teeth, this is important, too. * * * I remember -- I remember a teacher. He asked me the following: Imagine, in a room a man and a woman. The woman lies on a table and the man cuts her belly open… I remember my answer. It was the right one and it was important to be right. * * * I used red and black for the eyes and nose, one line across the head where the eyes were, and one down in the middle. I painted the nose all the way until the head stopped; I didn't bother with a mouth. And then, I did add an ear, but only on the right side. That was it. A swirly yellow background with a huge green blotch that was me with only one ear and no mouth. I read that the Nubian painter with the gardens cut off one of his ears, too. I wonder why, when it would have been easier just to paint yourself without it. That was me - more or less. * * * So my ship is gone. So are most likely all funds that were connected to it and my identity. Except for the secret ones, those that were only accounted in my head. One way or another, I was not poor. I could afford better treatment, I could - but could I? What if my survival was just an unintentional oversight? Would somebody come after me, if I showed my face? Did anybody know my face? With a shock I realized that I didn't know if I had good friends out there, friends who would realize I was not me any longer. I did not have a woman waiting for me somewhere. I did not have friends waiting for me out there. I was still nobody. * * * Jango Fett. He was the teacher. Yes, the teacher, I remember. All teachers, I remember. The riddle. Yes, the riddle. And the correct answer is: Why? Sand Angel by Jaya Solo Author's Note: This story focuses on little moments between Obi-Wan and Beru as she struggles to raise Luke with Owen. “I still can't get him to take his bottle,” I quietly spoke over the comm unit. “I'll be right over.” “Thank you. Please get here quickly.” I shuffled around nervously after shutting off the comm link. Luke had been living with us for two whole months, but in that time he had refused to take his bottle from me. Owen had no idea since he wasn't very fond of baby things. He said that was my business. I think he's a little afraid of who Luke could become, but every time I look down upon his tiny face, I can barely imagine how he can be related to that monster. I discovered on the second day, after Owen had left “to get a tool” that Luke would stop crying long enough to take his bottle. The only problem was that he only stopped because of Obi-Wan's magic touch. Sadly, Owen won't have him come around because he's afraid of him finding us. I remembered the first day Obi-Wan stumbled in out from the desert wind. Sand covered almost every inch of his body. He dusted off as much of it as he could before he took little Luke from me. After forty-eight hours of constant screaming, I declared Obi-Wan to be my sand angel. Like chrono-work, Obi-Wan slipped in each day after Owen left to do his chores to feed Luke. I feel guilty hiding this secret affair from Owen, but Luke needs to eat. So I do what I must. “Beru?” Obi-Wan called out from the front door. “In here,” I shouted back over Luke's screams. “Hello little one,” Obi-Wan softly said as he accepted the squiggling, screaming infant from my outstretched arms. He was starting to get heavy, so I was glad to let him go. “Are you giving your aunt a hard time again?” As he softly bounced Luke back and forth in his arms, the cries slowly began to subside. “There we go. Are you ready for your bottle?” Obi-Wan accepted the bottle that I provided him and presented it to the infant. Luke greedily sucked, quickly gobbling down the liquid. “I don't know how you do it,” I moaned, as I collapsed into a chair. “He never takes it from me.” I paused, wondering if I should admit what I had been thinking for a few days. Those late nights provided a lot of time to think. “I think he misses her. I think he somehow knows what he's lost.” Obi-Wan lifted his eyes from Luke to gaze at me. “That's a good observation. Infants can know when they're missing someone close to them, and they often resist feeding.” I smiled as I wondered where he came up with his plethora of knowledge. “How do you know so much about babies?” “As part of my training, I got to spend some time in the crèche. Most of the infants that we received were around six months old, but occasionally we got one that was younger than that. Those little ones were sometimes left without parents. Their Force sensitivity made them more aware that their parents were gone. They were the hardest to console.” By then, Luke had finished his bottle and fallen asleep in his arms. That was my favorite part of the day, when Luke slept soundly in Obi-Wan's arms. It was an incredibly sweet moment, and it gave us enough time to make small talk. Sadly, the front door opened and the loud, clumsy footsteps made us freeze in our tracks. With a hint of regret in his eyes, Obi-Wan handed Luke over to me before he wiggled his way out of Luke's window. I suppressed a giggle as I turned to go greet my husband. Somehow I knew that Obi-Wan was gliding deftly across the desert to await my next call. -----signature----- Official Sock for the 2008 FFA--Saga Edition Have questions about the awards? PM us!
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SagaFanficAwards Title: Fanfiction Awards Sock: The Saga Registered: Jun '06	Date Posted: 6/24/08 1:02pm Subject: RE: 2008 Saga Fanfic Awards Excerpt Thread - Date Edited: 7/3/08 8:17pm (8 edits total) Edited By: SagaFanficAwards
	Most Underrated cont'd Veil of Shadows by Viariskywalker There were fifteen minutes left. Luke tore his eyes from the chrono and growled a few choice words under his breath. “What could possibly be taking so long?” he snapped, glancing at the young brunette sitting in the corner. “Stop whining,” she replied lazily, examining her fingernails. “Why are we even here? We obviously weren’t needed.” The girl let out a little sigh. “You’re unusually anxious today.” She looked up at him in a detached manner, as though she were inspecting an insect that had to be crushed. Luke glared at her and began to pace back and forth across the antechamber. His companion’s brown eyes flashed victoriously. “So the Emperor’s little Hand is leaving after all?” Luke stopped and took several angry breaths. “That has nothing to do with this, Leia, and you know it.” She shrugged and resumed the careful study of her nails. “Either way, you’re pathetic.” The young man closed his eyes, but all he could see was her. He tried to tear the image from his mind, not because he wanted to, but because the longer he kept it there, the more likely it was that Leia would pick up on the true depth of his yearning. The last thing he needed was for her to jeopardize his tenuous position with the Sith Lords. The door to the conference room opened, and Darth Vader stepped through, his nightmarish mask aimed in Luke’s direction. Luke tried to dampen his emotions, but he had the sinking feeling it was too late. Across the room, Leia smiled with dark satisfaction. Vader looked from Luke to Leia. Without a word, he started walking to the far door. Luke and Leia exchanged a curious glance before quickly falling into step behind the Sith. Luke checked his chrono and gritted his teeth. Ten minutes. Didn’t anyone understand how important his time was? If he didn’t get back to the palace before those ten minutes were up… No. I have to see her again. He blinked twice and focused on the hem of Vader’s cloak as they reached the landing pad where their shuttle awaited. The Sith Lord was subtly probing his mind, trying to follow the path of Luke’s previous emotions to their source, but Luke could feel him, and he responded forcefully to Vader’s intrusion. You don’t ever get to touch my thoughts, old man. As they climbed the ramp, Vader paused and glanced over his shoulder. The steady hiss of his respirator seemed to drown out the noise of traffic as he stared down at Luke. Then he turned away. Six minutes left. ~~ . . . ~~ “You’re too late.” Luke didn’t look behind him. His eyes were locked on the distant pinprick of silver that was {i]her{/i] ship. Rage shot through him, rage like that of a cornered beast staring down its tormentor. He spun around, ready to lash out. The red beam of Leia’s lightsaber sizzled to life a centimeter from his chin. Startled, Luke stumbled backward, igniting his own weapon. “Unwise, young learner,” she mocked. “You disappoint me.” She flourished her saber before deactivating it and clipping it to her belt. “I hate you.” Her lips twisted in a smirk. “Good. You’ll never become Lord Vader’s apprentice otherwise.” She spun on her heel and walked away. Luke shut down his weapon and watched her stride purposefully down the hall. “I’m the best choice by far,” he called after her, “and the Emperor knows it.” “Only Vader’s opinion matters,” she replied without looking back. He folded his arms tight across his chest and snarled, studying Leia’s steps. Who did she think she was? He was the chosen apprentice. Not Horn or Katarn or anyone else. And definitely not this spoiled one-time princess. I hate you, his mind whispered. I know, she whispered back. In Absentia by DarthIshtar Author’s Note: Ive is the wife of an Imperial officer on Captain Needa’s Star Destroyer Avenger. While he is off at war, she is raising their seven-year-old daughter alone on Corellia. Following is a diary entry about home life in the Empire. 1/4 23 AI Another comm came from Edam, but this was a sound-only file. For us, that is the equivalent of "for your eyes only" and means that something is potentially wrong. I am grateful that I received it before leaving to the Mekthamas' because I might have not handled it well. As it turned out, my initial fear was mostly unfounded. Whereas the Avenger has always been in Darth Vader's fleet, Lord Vader has decided to form something of a splinter group. It is specifically designed for the discovery and elimination of the Rebels' primary base. That means that he will be involved in some of the more dangerous battles of the war. The stories of what the Rebels have done at places such as Yavin are the stuff of legend. I can only hope that some of the stories are exaggerations. The name of the new group is rather ominous--Death Squadron. I suppose that after hearing that the Avenger accompanies the Executor, I should not be surprised. Edam said that the nature of the group will become more public knowledge soon and wanted to prepare me in case Alys was treated differently for her father's association with the Squadron. I have no doubt that there will be something that she notices. Already, there is a kind of respectful distinction between the children whose parents are stormtroopers or infantry soldiers and those whose parents are fighting more impersonal battles in the navy. The distinction between gunners and officers is even greater. Alys is not the sort to be bothered by that, but I am not sure how well she will adapt to this new affiliation. I will have to remind her that Papa did not choose his placement, but is simply trying to do his best to win the war, just like any other soldier of the Empire. After work, I picked up Alys and made dinner while she did her homework. Since she is getting into a regular routine, I allowed her to watch some of the holoprograms as a reward after she had finished and I finished unpacking the last of the boxes that we brought with us. In the second-to-last box, I found the flag that we were given when Edam left the Academy and was given his first commission. It is a dazzling white piece of fabric that we hang from the front right window to indicate that one of our dearly beloved is away from home, fighting for the good of all those in the Empire. Since Alys has been old enough, I have allowed her to do the honors of hanging it. Tonight was no exception. The moment it was hung, she turned and told me that one of the children in her class had been given a black flag this morning. That means that one of her classmates has lost a parent to the war and that they will remain in the school out of respect to the fallen. Mr. Dumailnk, the headmaster, says that this is not uncommon, though there are many children who leave the school because the reminder of what they have lost is too painful. As always, I encouraged her to be sympathetic to this classmate, but to not fear too much. After all, her Papa is on one of the most indestructible crafts known to sentients. The Avenger has taken many beatings in battle, but never fallen. There is a chance that some day we may change our flag for a black one, but Edam is not a TIE pilot. He is not one of the inadequately shielded cruisers. He is an officer on a Star Destroyer under Vader's command. He is not indestructible, but he is not as vulnerable as he could be. A Thousand Different Ways by DarthIshtar Author’s Note: It’s hard enough to do 100 drabbles in 20 weeks, but I took it upon myself to make it a little more difficult. Every one of the drabbles is an Alternate Universe in some way. These are seven of them. 5. Weathered Jedi should not have dreams, but exceptions were the rule in the case of children. This was especially the case with the children of the Widow Skywalker. No one questioned their right to have nightmares, since they had been party to the end stages of the madness that the Jedi called their father's turn to the Dark Side. It made little difference that they were not there when Anakin Skywalker was killed—they did not have to. Still, the only thing that seemed to calm them was the weathered presence of Yoda, one who had faced equal darkness and triumphed. 13. Sister “Who is she? She's beautiful!” “A passenger on our last voyage. A person of some importance, I be... Artoo, do be quiet. He's not interested in gossip.” “What gossip?” “Nonsense he must have heard from one of those ghastly pit droids that we met. He's spouting nonsense, nothing more.” “Well, maybe it's not nonsense. Tell me what he's saying.” “Well, you didn't hear this from me, Master Luke. I'm only an interpreter, but Artoo is convinced that this is your twin sister.” “My WHAT?” “See, Artoo? I told you it was utter lunacy. Now you've gone and offended him again...” 20. Space Station “Didn't anyone bring a map?” “I don't know, Your Worship. Did you leave yours back in your cell?” “It's not that hard. I swear, if we take a right up there, we can take the shortcut right back to the hangar bay.” “Kid, you got lost trying to find the 'fresher on the Falcon. I'm not taking your word about ANY shortcuts.” “Call Artoo--he can figure it out.” “Yeah, remember what else you forgot? Your commlink charger?” “Well, there's Darth Vader. Maybe he can give us directions back to the ship.” “Shut up!” 25. Heal There had never been even a whisper that would have suggested this possibility. Of all the Senators, the hard-headed pacifist who was the youngest member of the governing congress to be ever elected was not one of the most likely to uphold Jedi ideals. She had demonstrated no unusual intuition or traitorous means of persuasion. Her allegiances were unfortunate, but no one thought to accuse her of being a Jedi until the day that she somehow healed a fellow Senator when a ceiling collapsed. It was either outside intervention or Leia Organa possessed powers that they had not suspected. 40. Wookiee Han had to say that he really liked what Leia had done with the place. Sure he wasn't a fan of the new caf-maker in the galley, but whatever kept her happy tended to be good for him, too. She'd managed to get that one door fixed which had always stuck and the new sheets on his bunk weren't too bad. Still, he got a nervous feeling every time he brought up Chewie's mysterious death. He couldn't quite pin down why she avoided his eyes and kept away from the new shag carpet every time he brought it up. 53. Old It was unusual for any sentient to count his age in centuries, but Master Yoda had been in the service of the Order for eight of them. He was hardly a spring avian, but few had questioned his capabilities more than once. Still, there were those who saw his experience as a threat. When Senator Palpatine saw the need to take control of the Republic and then the entire Jedi Order, he proved as much immediately. In fact, his first act with his new powers was to force into retirement those too old and too experienced to agree with him. 65. Pain It was long after midnight on the jungle moon of Yavin IV, but grey light had not yet brightened the sky. Darkness still enveloped Leia Organa as she suspected it always would, crushing and embracing her all at once. As she had on the Death Star, the last High Princess of Alderaan stood alone in her grief and horror and yearned for the abyss. As always, the darkness beckoned eagerly, promising release and mocking her childish, mortal fears. Silent as the night and without remorse or hesitation, she stepped off the Temple parapet and let the abyss carry her home. The Coming Storm by Quigonjecca Willa, a child keeper in the Jedi Temple wakes to the sound of an explosion. Frantically, she gets up, turning on the looking at the security cameras, only to find her worst nightmare playing out before her eyes… She gasped at what she saw. Clones—hundreds of Clones—were attacking the Temple. Masters, Knights, and Padawans were falling fast, and the troops were spreading out towards the upper levels. She tried to see who was in command. The sound of clashing lightsabers caught her attention, and she panned the camera further to the left. It was Skywalker, and he was… He was fighting his own. Fear gripped Willa’s heart at the prospect of the youngling’s fate. She couldn’t get out of the Temple without being seen. And even if she could, a woman traveling with seven babies was going to be rather conspicuous. In her mind, she called Sera and Airarn, the two other child-keepers. Quickly, she changed out of her Jedi tunics and into some civilian costume. Sera bounded up the stairs, lightsaber drawn. Airarn followed close behind. “The Temple is under attack!” Sera said, gasping for breath. “Skywalker is, he’s—,” “He’s attacking us!” Airarn finished. A scowl etched itself onto his face, and then quickly faded into fear for the little ones. Willa glanced at the holocams. Many white-clad soldiers were running up the stairs, blasters drawn. She began to panic. “We have to get them out of here!” Sera immediately took charge. “I’ll take three of the babies. Airarn you take those two, over there, and Willa, you take the twins.” She pointed to two matching cots. Willa ran over and scooped up the children, wrapping them in blankets to keep them warm. She looked into their little eyes. They were almost identical, except that the girl had blond hair, and her brother brown. A tear trickled down Willa’s face when she thought of what a dark fate these two had to face if she didn’t get them out. “Airarn!” Sera called. “You take the back stairs down the hall. My speeder is parked directly inside the hangar. I’ll go up the north passageway and then backtrack. Master Windu usually keeps his speederbike in that back room. Willa!” She said, drawing the girl out of her reverie. “I want you to go down the west stairs, and into the unused basement. Take the second door on your left, and you’ll arrive in the room where we keep all the disguises and such. There should be small door in the back of the room, and that leads to a small hangar with a speeder we use for emergency situations.” Willa nodded. “What if one of us gets caught?” Airarn said, voicing the question that was playing in all of their minds. “Don’t look back.” Sera said, sorrow playing in her eyes. “I know that Jedi are supposed to stick together, but now… now I think that the best thing is every Knight for him—or her—self.” A silence that seemed to last for eternity hung over the group. Even the babies were silent. “I’m the Master here, and that’s an order!” Sera said, breaking the stillness. “Now go, try and get out of here before it’s too late!” She gave Willa a little push towards the door. Numbly, Willa ran down the west stairs, trying her best to remember Sera’s instructions. She turned into the unused basement, and blindly opened the first door. A battalion of Clone Troopers were scouting on the other side. “There’s one!” The commander shouted. Willa slammed the door with all her might, and jammed the lock using the Force. She let out a little sob. Now they knew where she was. She chastised herself for not remembering which door to take. It had to be the second one. She threw open the door, and braced herself for what could be on the other side. A sigh of relief escaped her pursed lips when she realized she had taken the right door. In the back of the closet, sure enough there was a small door. Willa had to duck in order to walk through. On the other side, sat a balcony, and on the balcony was a gleaming red speeder. She stopped dead in her tracks. Never before had she piloted one like this. She had only tried older models or simulators. She shook her head. She could hear pounding boots in the room behind her, the crackle of commlinks when the Troopers spoke to each other. Quickly, she buckled the twins into the back seat. She jumped into the cockpit and blindly pushed the ignition. She didn’t know where to go, or where she was headed, but she had to get the twins to safety. The Journal of Lochlann Thrindarr by celine Entry One: Okay, something’s clearly wrong with me or I wouldn’t be wasting my time writing this crap down. It’s the space travel. It’s so monotonous. There’s nothing to do but sit around and drink…and the whiskey I’ve got tastes like a bantha pissed in it. Of course, that doesn’t seem to be slowing me down any…it’s funny, I used to tease Nera for writing in her journal, and then what do I turn around and do to entertain myself? Yep. Sorry honey! If I had any sense left I’d put my datapad to good use—looking up blondes in compromising situations, but clearly sense is gone. Nope, nothing left to do but sit here and fall into useless introspection. I say useless because there’s no good to be gained from any of this. All it does is depress you that your life is so insignificant. That you’ve made too many mistakes. That you drink too much Corellian whiskey--too much bad Corellian whiskey. Being locked in this tin can with no one but myself is wearing on me. Giving me strange ideas. Giving me too much time to think. I don’t even have Nera around to bounce stuff off of anymore…and that’s the problem really, isn’t it? She’s gone and there’s nothing I can do about it. And there’s no one here but me. Force I miss her. No matter what life threw at us, I always knew we were in it together. The crappy foster homes, the days of scrimping by eating frozen nerf and bundling up in blankets because the heat got turned off. None of it mattered, because my sister was with me. Hey, and I guess having someone around that firmly believed I was the greatest guy in the galaxy helped. I don’t feel the same now. That Lochlann Thrindarr magic is gone. I’m not anyone’s greatest guy in the galaxy, I’m just another pilot, who drinks too much, transporting Force knows what to some crappy colony in the middle of nowhere. Okay Nera, I don’t see how this “helped” you to write stuff down. Or what perspective you gained from doing so. Because right now the only perspective I see is the scuffed seat in front of me. But I’ll be out of light speed soon enough. Better lay off the bantha pi...er whiskey!I need my head about me to lay on some Thrindarr charm. Never know who'll be planetside. With my luck, a bunch of wookies--but hey, I'll be an optomist. I'm hoping for attractive natives with a distinct shortage of available men! Entry 4 I am definitely losing my mind out here. I keep dreaming of my sister. Or hearing her voice, just faintly on the air. I’ve made up my mind not to do anymore of these runs. I’m tired of piloting into the vast reaches of space carrying cargo. I like to fly. Don’t get me wrong—I love it, but this isn’t flying. This is plugging coordinates into the nav computer and sitting around for a week doing nothing. I could go back to my old job aboard the “Galactic Jewel.” At least that had a large crew to hang with and nothing beats spending weeks on a pleasure transport! Women, gambling, shows. I can’t say it got old exactly, but I just don’t think I can be everyone’s happy-go-lucky Loch anymore. It feels like work now. Like a lie. Like I can’t be who I am anymore. I want to be him. I want to be the one that everyone notices when I walk into the room. The one who always has a witty remark and an extra credit to buy a friend a drink. That was me and that’s what everyone will expect…and there’s no use trying to recapture glory days. They’re gone. That Lochlann Thrindarr magic is gone. I could go back into piloting for a limo-speeder service. Good tips. Weird hours. A lot of sitting around doing nothing. Plenty of people to network with, though. I’m lost, adrift, like a ship after a rough storm.--Typing random thoughts into a datapad. Like that ever helped anything. Oh—I DO have a little company. Some felinoid creature curled up in the cargo bay while they were fixing this thing. I heard mewling about two hours into hyperspace. I’m not turning around to bring it back—and I don’t have the heart to throw it out the airlock, so I guess it’s stuck with me. It’s chewing on my finger as I type. Lovely. -----signature----- Official Sock for the 2008 FFA--Saga Edition Have questions about the awards? PM us!
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SagaFanficAwards Title: Fanfiction Awards Sock: The Saga Registered: Jun '06	Date Posted: 6/24/08 1:02pm Subject: RE: 2008 Saga Fanfic Awards Excerpt Thread - Date Edited: 6/25/08 10:03am (2 edits total) Edited By: SagaFanficAwards
	Most Underrated cont'd -----signature----- Official Sock for the 2008 FFA--Saga Edition Have questions about the awards? PM us!
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SagaFanficAwards Title: Fanfiction Awards Sock: The Saga Registered: Jun '06	Date Posted: 6/24/08 1:03pm Subject: RE: 2008 Saga Fanfic Awards Excerpt Thread - Date Edited: 6/30/08 9:51pm (6 edits total) Edited By: SagaFanficAwards
	Best Response to a Challenge Nobody's Baby by Divapilot Author’s Note: This story responds to the Poetry Challenge. The poem was “Pat-a-cake,” the nursery rhyme. All four lines must appear in the story, although they do not have to be consecutive. There are three things you don’t do in Mos Eisley: Go outside in a sandstorm, leave your water at home, and steal from Jabba the Hutt. Any of these will get you killed in a hurry. My idiot boyfriend did all three. *** I had been working at the cantina for four years when the door opened and in blew my future. I remember the first time I saw that idiot. He came into the cantina smelling like something a bantha threw up. I swear, I nearly tossed him then and there. Sometimes I wish I had. But he had a handsome face and this sad little expression and he flashed some credits, so I took pity on the idiot and showed him the washroom and a table in the back. There aren’t many newcomers around these parts. Those who can leave Tatooine are already gone, so that leaves the farmers and the thieves. The thieves are a small group, and their career opportunities are limited. Most of the thieves worked for one of the gangs. So when this bloke turned up, skin burned like an off-worlder and stinking to pieces, my curiosity got going. I took my tray and leaned over the counter to Kessi, who has worked at this cantina since forever. “Who’s that?” I asked. “Who’s who, honey?” she asked. I nodded to the guy in the corner. He had taken off his hood to reveal a full head of black hair. He wasn’t half bad looking, and so few guys come this way who aren’t insufferable, in trouble, or infected. Kessi squinted as she looked him over. “Huh,” she said. “Someone new. He look-a familiar. Where have I-a seen him?” I made up my mind to go meet this guy. I took my datapad over to where he was sitting, reading the menu -- reading the menu! As if there were something to choose from -- and I tapped the stylus on the edge of the table. “What’ll it be, new guy?” I asked. He looked up. He had the most sparkling blue eyes. I couldn’t help but smile. “Hello. Do you have any water?” he asked. His voice had a slight accent. Do we have any water, he asked. I nodded slowly. This is Tatooine. You always have water on Tatooine, sand-for-brains. “Yeah, we got water. But it’ll cost ya,” I said. His eyes narrowed slightly. “Look, I can pay for it. I’ll have water and … what do you suggest, Sucre?” I told him my name, and it wasn’t Sucre. It was on my nametag plain as day. But he just smiled. I jabbed the stylus at one of the menu items. “That’s good,” I said. He smiled and ordered his food. When I brought it back to him, I sat down beside him. “So what’s your story?” I asked. It was a slow workday, and the cantina owner was taking a nap. “I’m just on my way through, sweetheart,” he said. “Ain’t nobody stopping here who’s on his way through. You stop here for a reason or you don’t stop at all. What’s your name?” I asked. “Patricius Cakkerion,” he said. “But my friends call me Pat. And I hope you will be a friend, darling – when do you get off work?” I knew all his talk was bantha fodder. But hey, I was young and bored, and I knew that I looked hotter than a three-credit blaster, so what did I have to lose? Good looks didn’t last in a place like this, so use ‘em while you got ‘em, I figured. I stood up and winked. “I’ll come get ya,” I promised. With that information, I went back to Kessi. “He says his name is Pat Cakkerion,” I informed her. Kessi’s old eyes narrowed as she thought aloud. “Pat-a Cakkerion… Pat-a Cakkerion. I did hear-a that name somewheres.” She stopped suddenly. “Ah! Pat-a Cake! Pat-a Cake, Baker’s man.” She slapped me on the arm. “He-a works for Baker. He one of Baker’s men. New man, from-a off world.” I snorted. “Well, he ain’t too smart. He comes here without water. What, does he think water falls from the sky or something? I should charge him double for being stupid.” Kessi chortled. “Ah, you-a like him. Go have some fun. I cover-a you shift.” “Really?” I asked. Kessi was awfully considerate to me sometimes. I put down my cleaning rag and took off my serving apron. “Thanks, Kessi,” I said. And that is how I met Patricius, the handsomest liar on the Outer Rim. A Simple Twist of Fate by Gabri_Jade SJRS Wordless Romance challenge requirements: 1) Begin your story with the sentence "There were fifteen minutes left." 2) Write a story that portrays "romance" without "mush". Luke and Mara may not touch. Find a way for one or both of them to express love without the use of the words "I love you". Be creative! Mara led him, trailing admiringly just behind her, to one of the draped booths in the visitation area, behind one of the tall vases and thus out of view of the woman at the desk, for which Luke was grateful. She pulled one of the airy drapes aside with a slender, glittering hand. "After you." Luke stepped in and briefly eyed the silky circular divan with distaste, then turned to Mara as she slipped in between the curtains in his wake. He reached out both arms for her, but she shook her head regretfully. "Can't," she said. "The glitter was just applied; it's not dry yet. It'll get all over your uniform." "I don't care," Luke said fervently, but he reluctantly let his arms fall back to his sides nevertheless. "Yes, you do," Mara said, her eyes sparkling more silent laughter at him. "Or your superior officer would, at any rate. Quit ogling me; it's only a dancing costume." "You look incredible," he said, drinking in the sight of her. "Flatterer," she said, rolling her eyes. "Hardly." The desire for her was pooling in his belly, making it hard to breathe. "Mara, this is inhuman. You can't come out like this and then tell me I can't touch you." "We'll make up for it later," she promised, her voice dropping to that smoky tone he knew so well. At that, Luke blew out a breath, suddenly remembering why he was here in the first place. "Not for a while. Maybe a long while." He looked at her, seeing the sudden concerned question in her eyes. "I have a new assignment, Mara. I have to report in -" he looked at his chrono "- shavit, less than ten minutes. We're leaving Coruscant tomorrow." . . . Luke laughed. It had been a simple twist of fate that led them to each other, a single rare instance where one of his first commanding officers, impressed with his performance on a tricky mission, had invited him to a ball the Emperor had thrown for his higher ranking military officers. Luke had thought it a good opportunity to make connections - even the military didn't operate on skill alone - but he hadn't expected to make the acquaintance of a dancer with fire-shaded hair and emerald green eyes. That remained the one and only time they'd ever crossed paths without appointment, each moving in very different social circles, but the mutual attraction was strong and they soon managed to meet again - and again, and again. The attraction became an affair; the affair became something far deeper. Despite their differences, it wasn't long before they were devoted to each other. Neither had much free time, but what little they could find was nearly always spent together. One day, Luke hoped they'd be able to spend much more time together - but first, he'd have to make something more of himself than a mere TIE pilot. "I like mere TIE pilots," Mara whispered, leaning in close. "I don't know how you always do that," he whispered back. She smiled. "Trade secret." He shook his head, smiling back at her. "Nothing like a mysterious woman to add excitement to a guy's life." He sobered, wondering when he'd next see those deep green eyes. "But if I was more than a mere TIE pilot, Mara . . ." She tilted her head again, a familiar sadness settling over her features. "If it was up to me, Luke, we wouldn't be waiting. Not for rank, or for anything else. But we both have our duty." "I know," he murmured. She lifted her hand to hover just over his cheek as though she were caressing him, so close that he could feel the heat of her skin on his even without touch. "Fly safe and shoot straight, Luke. You be sure to come back to me." "Always," he whispered. She sighed. "It never bothered me that TIEs don't have shields until I knew you." He grinned at her. "Shields are for Rebel cowards." Mara rolled her eyes again. "Pilot egos." She drew her hand back with tangible reluctance. "Get going. You aren't going to gain any points for being late." Luke looked at his chrono and swore again. He looked back at her. "Mara . . ." "I know," she whispered. "Contact me when you next get leave. I'll find a way for us to meet." "I will." He reached for her automatically; remembered the glitter and stopped. "Whatever you're doing besides dancing, Mara, be careful." She smiled. "Always." . . . He held the drapes open for her, then let them fall behind her. "I have to run." "Literally," Mara said. She blew him a kiss. "Go. You know how to find me." Lyssophobia by Meredith_Kenobi Date: /12/32/3 ABY/, 1032 hours Patient #70,354. Psychiatric Ward, Coruscant Mental Hospital Media type: Sound Recording “Why were you at the park that day, Obert?” “Which day?” “The same day we’ve been talking about this past hour.” “Oh, well, my cousin works there as a gardener. I go there to see her. I think that was probably why I was there.” “Do you remember what happened that day at the park, Obert?” “Yes, Sir. Mostly.” “What parts don’t you remember?” “I don’t know, Sir. I can’t remember them.” sigh “What I mean is, what places in your memory are blank or fuzzy?” “The parts I can’t remember.” “Y…es. I know that already.” “Good. Can I go now?” chair scraping on floor “No, I’ve still got a few more questions. Please sit back down.” chair scraping on the floor “Thank you. Now, what happened at the park that day, Obert?” static ~!~ Obert stalked along with his shoulders slumped and his hands stuffed in his pants pockets. It was easy for him to spot his cousin, Syrra. She was the only gardener on the whole of Coruscant who had an aurra of coolness about her. She always wore tons of red lipstick and black eye makeup. She never dressed in colors, either. It was always blacks, greys, and whites. She always had such a surety about her that Obert envied. She was so self-confident. He envied her for that. “Hey.” He spotted her crouching over a clump of fluffy pink flowers. She turned around. “What’s up?” Obert walked up beside her. “Nothing much.” “You’re early. You always come during my lunch break.” Obert shifted uncomfortably. “Something came up. And anyway, I just felt like seeing you.” He pointed. “What kind of flowers are those?” She shrugged. “I dunno. I was just told to get ‘em in the ground before lunch. I think they’re Ithorian. Whatever they are, apparently they’re too fragile for the droids to handle.” “Need some help?” “Sure, just don’t let the boss see you. I got in a lot of trouble last time I paid a couple of 10-year olds to stand in for me.” She scooted over and made a place for him amongst the un-planted flowers. Obert got down on his knees beside her. “He didn’t fire you?” “Obviously not, I’m here aren’t I?” Syrra smiled seductively. “And besides, he thinks I’m cute.” She watched him as he picked up a trowel. “So, what happened today? Why are you early? Did you have a Bad Obert moment?” Obert grunted. “You don’t remember what happened, do you?” Obert grunted again. Syrra put an arm around his shoulders. “Man, I’m worried about you. I don’t want you to end up like my mother.” Obert pulled away from her. “Don’t say that. I’m not like your mom. Everybody gets angry. Why does everyone always make such a big deal about it when I do?” “Sure, everybody gets angry, but they also remember it afterwards. With you, it’s like your anger takes over your mind and controls you. It’s like you become a different person. Good Obert, Bad Obert. Am I right? Obert jabbed the trowel into the ground and didn’t answer. “My mom wasn’t always like she is now.” Syrra reminded him. “She started out like you.” Obert jumped to his feet and threw his trowel down. “I’m not like your kriffing mom!” He stormed off, pulling the hood of his shirt over his head. “Obert, come back! I didn’t mean—” Syrra stood to follow him, but changed her mind. When Obert got angry there was no reasoning with him. “Dammit.” ~!~ Date: /11/32/3 ABY/, 1044 hours Patient #70,354. Psychiatric Ward, Coruscant Mental Hospital Media type: Sound Recording “What did she mean by that? Good Obert and Bad Obert?” “Oh, well, that’s what she calls me. Either Good or Bad Obert. ‘Cause sometimes I’m…well, I’m really bad and I don’t know why. I can’t help it.” “Bad as in you hurt people?” “…” “Obert?” “I hit my mom once. Really bad. She fell and broke her arm. And the next day I didn’t even…” silence “Obert?” “I didn’t even remember it. I asked her what happened to her arm and she started crying. Then she hugged me. It was a weird hug, like one of those hugs you give to a dying person. She wouldn’t let me go.” “Why do you think she did that?” “She thought I might have the Rime insanity gene.” “What’s that, Obert?” “Doesn’t it say in my file? You’ve got it sitting right in front of you.” papers rustle “What’s the Rime insanity gene, Obert?” “You’re a real jerk, you know that?” “It’s part of the therapy.” “I thought this was a psych exam?” “Please, just answer the question.” “I hate you.” static -----signature----- Official Sock for the 2008 FFA--Saga Edition Have questions about the awards? PM us!
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SagaFanficAwards Title: Fanfiction Awards Sock: The Saga Registered: Jun '06	Date Posted: 6/24/08 1:03pm Subject: RE: 2008 Saga Fanfic Awards Excerpt Thread - Date Edited: 6/27/08 8:59am (9 edits total) Edited By: SagaFanficAwards
	Best Songfic Desire by LilyHobbitJedi Two hearts fading, like a flower. And all this waiting, for the power. For some answer, to this fire. Sinking slowly. The water’s higher. Desire Each passing day struck another weight in Obi-Wan’s heart as he remembered the day when and Siri parted. They loved each other, and yet they had no choice but to turn against their love for one another, in order to remain Jedi. Obi-Wan knew that he would always love her regardless. It was so recently they admitted to being in love, and so soon it was all but a memory. Obi-Wan knew he would carry this with him always. Siri was his one and only true love, and he would always carry her in his heart. Even though he yearned to see her, and longed for her touch. It was never to be. “You're a terrible liar, Obi Wan Kenobi. It's one reason I like you so much,” Siri said. “Ah, so you like me, I thought I'd lost your good opinion,” Obi-Wan replied. Obi-Wan fondly remembered their conversation a few days previously. She was the kind of person who could always put a smile on his face not just by her sense of humor, but by the way that she was easily able to match him in verbal sparring. It was no wonder they fell in love, but neither could pinpoint the moment when they both knew it. But Obi-Wan liked to believe that he always loved her. With no secrets. No obsession. This time I'm speeding with no direction. Without a reason. What is this fire? Burning slowly. My one and only. Desire Siri was dead, and Obi-Wan struggled to accept the fact. Killed by a bounty hunter, she died in his arms, much like Qui-Gon did years before. His heart nearly felt torn in two when it happened, yet he was able to take this better as a Knight, than he wouldn’t had he still been a Padawan. But either way, losing Siri was a horrible blow, and Obi-Wan knew he would always be recovering. “We all need rescue sometimes,” Obi-Wan said. “Some more than others,” Siri retorted. More than anything, Obi-Wan wished that he would’ve been able to save Siri from her horrible fate. Even after they renounced their love for one another, they’d been wonderful friends. He was still as passionately in love with her now as he had been as a Padawan. She was living still in his memories, and that comforted him. She would always be there. ~~~~~ “Your powers are weak, old man,” Vader said mockingly. “You can't win, Darth. If you strike me down, I shall become more powerful than you can possibly imagine,” Obi-Wan answered. The truth was, Obi-Wan knew that his death was imminent. Vader was right; he was so much weaker now than years before when they dueled on Mustafar. But that didn’t concern him. He was doing this for Luke; a young man who Obi-Wan hoped would set the galaxy to rights. And the moment came. Luke noticed him, and Obi-Wan looked to him and smiled. He never felt the blade that ended his life. You know me. You don't mind waiting. You just can't show me, but God I'm praying, That you'll find me, and that you'll see me, That you run and never tire. Desire He was home now, the netherworld of the Force. Obi-Wan was greeted by the many who passed long before their time. He was fondly greeted by his former Master Qui-Gon Jinn, along with the venerable Mace Windu. He looked past the faces of Jedi he fought and trained with, and his eyes sought out one in particular. Obi-Wan’s eyes locked with hers, as she walked towards him, with a smile that was just for him. “What took you so long?” she asked in mock annoyance, one they were standing face to face. “A Skywalker,” Obi-Wan answered simply. Siri grinned yet again. “I missed you, my stubborn gundark.” “And I’ve missed you,” Obi-Wan admitted tears slipping into his beard. “Every single day.” Siri reached one of her delicate hands forward and wiped a tear off his cheek. “We will never be parted again.” “I love you,” Obi-Wan said, kissing her. He’d always desired this, kissing her. And she matched his fervor, and two hearts spent apart for much too long were rekindled. “And I love you Obi-Wan Kenobi,” Siri said breathlessly. " Without a reason. What is this fire? Burning slowly. My one and only. Desire Gravity by LilyHobbitJedi Gravity Is working against me And gravity Wants to bring me down Never did Anakin Skywalker’s life did he ever imagine that breathing could be a chore. Every breath he took, Anakin couldn’t forget the set of circumstances that put him on this path. One where he was unfeeling and admittedly cruel, and one where he never would laugh or smile again. For he had to continue to tell himself that he was no longer Anakin, Jedi Knight and Commander of the Republic. Instead his existence had become that of Darth Vader, Sith Lord, and the Emperor’s right hand man. It was a shocking transition, but none more that the suit he now wore. After his grave error on Mustafar, Anakin was confined to the black suit that was now a part of him. He realized that he was more machine than man, but the human part of him loathed the transition. Learning how to walk on his cybernetic legs was a chore, not to mention eating from a tube, and having a machine force his heart to beat. He was Darth Vader, nothing more and nothing less. Oh I'll never know What makes this man With all the love That his heart can stand Dream of ways To throw it all away Padmé was gone, and every day his failure to protect her, haunted Vader. Not in his dreams, because after all he didn’t need to sleep much anymore, but during the unbidden moments when he least expected it. She turned on him, Padmé sided with the turncoat Jedi and now she was dead. Vader couldn’t prevent it from happening and now he wondered why visions of her beauty would never leave him be. His child died when she did and the glimmer of excitement Anakin felt when he learned he was going to be a father, was struck with Vader’s pain. It was during the middle of a war, and not particularly a good time to bring children into the world, but in that moment he’d been proud to think he would be a father. And now that would never be. Oh Gravity Is working against me And gravity Wants to bring me down He never knew that when he took on the role of Sidious’ apprentice, that the role would be so unrewarding. At times Vader felt as if he sacrifice meant nothing, and that he was never going to be rewarded as he felt just. He was the Emperor’s favorite, but in all actuality that really didn’t seem to mean he was treated very different from Palpatine’s other servants. Yet Vader knew that we was the Sith’s greatest tool. Everywhere he walked he intimidated, every time he spoke he struck fear, and every time he walked others ran the other way. It felt very powerful and intense, but he no longer had any friends. Oh twice as much Ain’t twice as good And can't sustain Like one half could It's wanting more It's gonna send me to my knees He couldn’t give into his emotions anymore. That was the greatest difference between Anakin and Vader. Anakin was impulsive, compassionate, and at times very immature. His new life as Vader meant that he carried none of the same flaws. He was a cold and deadly foe, and it was rare at all that he let on his true emotions behind his mask. People often speculated that he was actually a droid. Little did they know about the raging man inside. He fought and bullied himself almost more than he did to those under his command. Vader sulked daily yet this was never revealed to any. Only his Master knew of his constant inner turmoil, and yet Palpatine was satisfied with it. Oh gravity Stay the hell away from me Oh gravity Has taken better men than me Now how can that be? There were so many times over the course of his life when Vader wish he’d done something differently. Reaching his mother in time to save her and not making that jump to the riverbank on Mustafar. Yet when it came down to it, Anakin really wasn’t sure that he would’ve done anything different. His faults and strengths led him to the position Vader was in now and he would accept it. He would never again kiss his wife, have a friendly conversation, or joke. Vader would greet a stranger with a smile or a nod, or help an elderly being cross an intersection. He would never feel the wind blow through his hair as he rode a speederbike or feel the sweat on his brow after a workout. This was Vader’s existence…nothing and pain. And darkness, one that would never dissipate. Just keep me where the light is Kissing a Fool by JmsBndGrl A/N: Song is “Kissing A Fool,” by George Michael, but when I wrote this the version in mind had been the one sung by Michael Buble. It hurt Anakin that Padmé could so casually dismiss her feelings for him. She should have been awake and as tormented as he was. To Anakin, she was simply adding more proof of her denial, which was fueling his determination to show her otherwise. Anakin strode to the side of the bed and stared down at the object of his affection. In sleep, she looked like the angel he had called her long ago, and this gave him a moment’s pause. However, angel or no, Anakin’s stubbornness demanded that Padmé see things his way. He grasped her blanket firmly in his hand and was about to tear it from her body when something wrenched at his heart. In her slumber, Padmé had let a name softly escape her lips, “Palo.” People Will always make a lover feel a fool But you knew I loved you We could have shown them all We should have seen love through Stunned, Anakin released Padmé’s blanket and backpedaled as if he had been slapped. He had dreamt that it would be his name that she would call out at night. He knew that love for him would certainly drive that, but with the two syllable name that passed her lips Padmé had shown that Anakin had been wrong. He was so in love with Padmé that he had been determined that she had to be equally in love with him. He had not pictured a different scenario and was not prepared to feel his heart shatter in his chest. Feeling completely alone and lost, Anakin escaped to his own room to gather himself and mull over this new revelation. Unfortunately, Anakin did not realize that Padmé was not dreaming of Palo as her lover. She was only replaying her previous conversation during a picnic at a Nubian meadow with a certain Jedi Padawan. Had Anakin not retreated from the room, he would have heard Padmé call out another name in longing rather than the whisper Palo’s had received. Additionally, if he had been looking at her he might have seen the moonlight catch the tear that trickled down her cheek as she said, “Anakin.” Fooled me with the tears in your eyes Covered me with kisses and lies So far But please don’t take my heart. Anakin stared up at the ceiling of his room as he lay in bed and replayed his latest encounter with Padmé. He wiped a stubborn tear out of his own eyes as he gave into a difficult truth. His angel did not love him. You are far I’m never gonna be your star I’ll pick up the pieces To mend my heart Strange that I was wrong enough To think you loved me too You must have been kissing a fool I said you must have been kissing a fool All of his hopes and dreams for a future with her had been lies. Over the past few days Anakin had pressured Padmé to give in to him. However, there was nothing to give in to if she was in love with another. Although his jealousy told him Palo was wrong for her, Anakin knew he would have to learn to live without the woman who haunted his dreams. But remember this Every other kiss That you’ll ever give Long as we both live “I’m haunted by the kiss that you should never have given me.” Anakin echoed his words from earlier in the evening. To torture him more, his mind replayed images of his and Padmé’s shared kiss. He could see his lips slowly encouraging hers to meld with his and then the delicious moment where she opened up to him and allowed him to deepen the kiss. He had been intoxicated by her taste and had been sorely disappointed when she had pulled away breathlessly. He had considered capturing her kiss swollen lips with his and pulling her flushed body against his once more despite her protests. However, he had decided to give her some time and space since she was obviously flustered. Now Anakin wish he had continued that kiss because perhaps her body’s natural reaction to him would have caused Padmé to forget about Palo. Anakin paused in his brooding for a moment and blinked several times as a realization dawned on him. Padmé had reacted to him. He had said it before, she had kissed him back…. Palo had not been near them and it was obvious Padmé was reacting to her Jedi protector and not the artist she had mentioned in the meadow. A spark of hope mended Anakin’s heart at this revelation. Gather 'Round All You Clones by Alexis_Wingstar Here I stand head in hand Turn my face to the wall If she's gone I can't go on Feeling two foot small I am alone. Circumstances have allowed my continued existence in this darkened universe. I was deep under cover when it happened. I felt a disturbance so powerful, it almost made me pass out. Death. The galaxy is… was… at war, so there is no shortage of it. It had become a shadow hanging over me and the rest of the galaxy’s inhabitants. That shadow suddenly took shape as a spear and thrust itself into my soul as I felt my fellow Jedi being slaughtered. I could not understand what had happened at first. Everywhere people stare each and every day I can see them laugh at me And I hear them say Hey you've got to hide your love away Hey you've got to hide your love away I got the call to go back to Coruscant, but I could not depart right away. By the time I got to the ship the Order had provided me, the message had changed. Now it says to stay away. Hide. I found holonet news reports claiming the Jedi have betrayed the Republic, and are now hunted criminals. The chancellor has declared himself emperor. How can I even try? I can never win Hearing them, seeing them In the state I'm in The Republic is dead. The Jedi Order is dead. I… I live for now. This too shall pass. How could she say to me "Love will find a way?" Gather round all you clowns Let me hear you say Hey you've got to hide your love away Hey you've got to hide your love away I am now walking into the middle of a clone battalion. They ignore me for now. I must appear to be just another refugee to them. I stop in front of a clone marked as a leader. I do not know his designation. It does not matter. My lightsaber appears in my hand for the last time, and I ignite its yellow blade. I just hold it between me and the clone leader. And wait. An eternity in a moment, and blaster bolts find their mark. All ties have been broken now. No attachments. That is the Jedi way. The Hands of Time by Anakins_Kiss How did I ever let you slip away Never knowing I'd be singing this song some day And now I'm sinking, sinking to rise no more Ever since you closed the door I desperately search the vastness of the force for any sign of her signature, pleading against the veracity of the emperor’s claims. But I find nothing…not a trace…not a impression…just a void where it should have been. In shock, I recoil and an indescribable agony washes over me. My newly recovered body is again assaulted by yet another tragic blow. It knocks the wind from my chest as a torturous reality reveals its full measure. She and I will forever be parted. The sea of the force stands between us, and I am no longer powerful enough to reach her. If I could turn, turn back the hands of time Then my darlin' you'd still be mine If I could turn, turn back the hands of time Then darlin' you, you'd still be mine How can I go on, knowing that I am responsible? Knowing that I am the one who broke her heart? She was in my every breath. She was my love, my angel. I was once a man that had love and the promise of a growing family. I had it all. Was I wrong to want to keep what I loved more than life itself? I tried to save her and my child from the fate that awaited them. And now, I am doomed to roam the domain of the empire without the beat of my heart. It’s the price of my passion…and lack of faith. Funny, funny how time goes by And blessings are missed in the wink of an eye Oh why oh why oh why should one have to go on suffering When every day I pray please come back to me The touch of machines and droids replaced the touch of your soft skin. The horrific sound of my own breathing replaced the sound of your sweet voice calling my name. My voice, nearly forgotten now, overshadowed by a cold mechanical voice. My broken and battery body is now held together by cybernetics and cold steel. What is left of your husband, dear angel, is a hollow tortured ruin. My life is now filled with bitter emptiness and self-hate. It wasn’t long ago that I held you in my arms, that I felt your kiss, and drowned in the deep brown pools of your eyes. It wasn’t long ago that we enjoyed the news that our family was growing. And now…and now, instead of standing beside you as you deliver our child, I stand beside my master watching as the death of liberty is created. If I could turn, turn back the hands of time Then my darlin' you'd still be mine If I could turn, turn back the hands of time Then darlin' you, you'd still be mine I wish I could hold you in my arms again. I wish I go back to that fateful day and do it all over. I wish I could have chosen the right instead of the wrong. I wish…I wish I had more faith. I lost you when I chose this path. I see that now. You were right; I was blinded by love. I will never be able to hold you again. I will never see you laugh, and blush and smile. I will never…never be a father to our child. All is lost and can never be reclaimed. The agony is too great, my love, too great to bare. I wish I could go back. I would have chosen the light instead of the dark. I would still be with you both. I would still have you in my arms. And you had enough love for the both of us But I, I, I did you wrong, I admit I did But now I'm facing the rest of my life alone, whoa You were stronger one. You believed in us. You believed in me. But, I didn’t allow your strength to carry me through. I was too afraid to let go. And here I am, reeling from your abrupt departure knowing that it could have been different had I had more faith. If I could turn, turn back the hands of time Then my darlin' you'd still be mine If I could turn, turn back the hands of time Then darlin' you, you'd still be mine The darkness is lifting slowly and the light is beginning to penetrate. The sensation of your kiss returns as the helmet is lifted. The sorrow in my heart slowly drains from me as the mask is removed. And now I can see with my own eyes. Hope returns. HOPE...returns. -----signature----- Official Sock for the 2008 FFA--Saga Edition Have questions about the awards? PM us!
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SagaFanficAwards Title: Fanfiction Awards Sock: The Saga Registered: Jun '06	Date Posted: 6/24/08 1:03pm Subject: RE: 2008 Saga Fanfic Awards Excerpt Thread - Date Edited: 7/2/08 4:49pm (8 edits total) Edited By: SagaFanficAwards
	Best Songfic cont'd "Threads of a Broken Heart" by Spyman290 There are days Every now and again I pretend I'm okay But that's not what gets me. “General, I regret to inform you that General Tachi was severely wounded on the battlefield. We extracted her but……” “But what?” I ask, as my dread hits its utmost. I start to blank out all that’s going on around me, fearing the worst, as I wait for him to finish his sentence. “But she died before we could get her any medical help.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ What hurts the most Was being so close And having so much to say (much to say) And watching you walk away As the holo starts transferring, tears start to fall from my eyes. I think about the last time we said good-bye to each other and how we ignored the feelings we had for each other. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It's hard to deal With the pain 'a losing you Everywhere I go But I'm doing it As I take one report after the next, I try to keep a smile on my face and to keep up the morale, but it’s nothing like the one that should be on my face. I should be wearing the expression that spoke of hope, like the one that was on my face before the comm. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “Commander, move up squad alpha on the right before they break through.” “Right away, General.” I watch as she moves in to fill a spot in the line. Before the droids break through, she is fighting brilliantly, and then it happened so fast, I had to back the holo up some to see it again. From what I could tell, she slipped on what I can only describe as black ice. Leave the Memories by Gina The ship hovers for a moment before touching down gently upon the firmament, a quiet but unwelcome intruder amongst the deserted ruins. My hands shake as I power down the craft, and I avoid glancing out the view screen. Finally, with my tasks complete, I release the safety harness, but still I cannot bring myself to exit the ship. Not yet. So here I am with my thoughts of you And this world I've left for me Unable to prolong the inevitable any longer, I slowly descend the ladder. As my heavy boot touches the ground, I stand still, waiting. But for what, I do not know. Did I expect it to feel different somehow? Just as they did all those many years ago, the trees above me form a protective canopy of sorts, bathing me in shadow and hiding my ship from view. I find it strange how, even now, the secrecy and deception seems a necessity. Who would dare to question the Dark Lord as to the purpose of his presence here? Yet still I long for the anonymity. Some secrets deserve to remain buried with their dead. Stoic faces when I think of you And how I once believed Gathering my resolve, I make my way through the clearing, now overgrown with brush and rambling vines. They tangle about my feet and legs, impeding my progress. Yet, all too soon, the moment I have dreaded arrives, and my breath catches in my throat as I see my first glimpse of the hulking ruin. What was once beautiful and majestic is now crippled with time and neglect. The transparisteel panes of windows are broken and shattered, and vines have overtaken the cracked and crumbling stone wall. This was once our sanctuary, but now Varykino is home to the birds of the sky and the creatures that roam the grounds. I feel an overwhelming sadness at the sight of it all, but I convince myself that such sadness is a useless emotion. So now you call me, but you know I won't let you through I've myself to deceive "It's a structure necessary for survival and protection from the elements. Nothing more," I whisper, pretending not to remember that it is here where we shared our first kiss, where I confessed my love for you. And I try to forget that I am now standing on the terrace where you became my wife. I reassure myself that there is no need to look up at your balcony, at the room where we first made love. I pretend not to feel the haunting pangs of regret as I glimpse the window of yet a different room. A room that was to be furnished with a crib; a place where you would rock our baby to sleep each night as I watched quietly from my perch in the doorway. "It doesn't matter anymore," I whisper fiercely. "This was Anakin's world. Not mine." The words are sensible, the product of a sound and logical mind. But within my broken body, my heart refuses to listen. This wasn't how it was supposed to be… So leave the memories alone I don't want to see The way it is, as to how it used to be Leave the memories alone, don't change a thing And I'll hold you here in my memory I contemplate going inside, but it feels inappropriate to disturb the ghosts of the past that reside within its tomb. So I turn away from the crumbling façade and follow the path around the grounds, certain of where I am going, although I pretend not to know. And I assure myself that it is not a tear I feel beneath the mask, falling slowly down my cheek. So I find me in your garden now A sad smile for the scene "Padmé…" The word slips from my lips on instinct as I sense your presence here. Walking through the garden you tended so lovingly, I feel you radiating from every branch. I sit on the aging garden bench and run my gloved hand along its frame, remembering how we would sit here together to watch the sunsets as we talked for hours, pretending there was no war, no Jedi, no Senate. Here, there was only the two of us. And all the flowers that we planted now Taken by the weeds I grasp the knotted branch of a rosa bush, and it crumbles within my gloved fingertips, its dust carried away by the winds. Without your tender care, all the blossoms you once coaxed to life have withered. And skeletons of black stalks and branches are all that remain, their bones devoured by the vines and weeds. Its beauty should have been your legacy. But to time and death, nothing is sacred… She’s So High by ccp Characters: Han and Leia Timeframe: From A New Hope to Empire Strikes Back Summary: Han's thoughts on Leia Notes: Response to the 1990s Pop Music Roulette. The song I got was "She's so High" by Tal Bachman. *** She had been going nonstop since they had met he never could understand how the High Council expected her to always be on display, expecting her heart to be made of durasteel. They treat her like a porcelain doll and Han can’t understand why. To so many she’s untouchable and that just makes him want her more. She's blood, flesh and bone No tucks or silicone She's touch, smell, sight, taste and sound That first terrible night on Yavin he had followed her from the party intending to work his charms. What he found when he did catch up with her broke his heart. He slowly walked to her and placed a gentle hand on her shaking shoulders. Her tortured brown eye’s betrayed that she had been sobbing. Without any words she took the offered shoulder. He vowed then and there to do all he could to protect her always. But somehow I can't believe That anything should happen I know where I belong And nothing's gonna happen Yeah, yeah 'Cause she's so high... High above me, she's so lovely She's so high... Like Cleopatra, Joan of Arc, or Aphrodite She's so high... High above me His ability to maneuver in complex situations soon landed him as a favorite companion on her trips to drum up support for the alliance. It gave him an excuse to keep an eye on her. It also gave credence to the rumors of a more intimate relationship sparked by their heated arguments. First class and fancy free She's high society She's got the best of everything Han watched from the fringes as she worked the crowd at this latest shindig. It always amazed him the way Leia effortlessly put people at ease as she strolled from group to group in an extravagant shimmer silk dress. This was the life she had grown up in; it was where she belonged where she deserved to be. What could a guy like me Ever really offer? She's perfect as she can be Why should I even bother? 'Cause she's so high... High above me, she's so lovely She's so high... Like Cleopatra, Joan of Arc, or Aphrodite She's so high... High above me He dedicated himself to her completely, but she wants a commitment to her cause. Han has entrusted himself to a government before but this time places his faith in her instead. She comes to speak to me I freeze immediately 'Cause what she says sounds so unreal He watches her speak with Luke across the bay from the ramp of the ‘Falcon, and feels his guts churn in jealously. Chewie comes from under the ship, where he has been working on the lifters, and leans against a strut. Han looks back at the wookie’s low growl. With a frown he looks back to Leia and her earnest friend before he answers, “I know pal and you’re right, it’s time to go.” But somehow I can't believe That anything should happen I know where I belong And nothing's gonna happen Yeah, yeah Yeah, yeah 'Cause she's so high... High above me, she's so lovely She's so high... Like Cleopatra, Joan of Arc, or Aphrodite She's so high... High above me Anakin and Obi-Wan are…. The Warriors by Anakin Heartbreaker You got the touch You got the powerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. A colossal eruption ravenously ruptured through the structural integrity of the confined chamber, its unquenchable tendrils devouring every inanimate object daring to stand in its path, whilst its thunderous announcement irresistibly reverberated throughout the building. The once impenetrable metallic walls helplessly succumbed, as various incinerated chassis’ of destroyer droids bombarded the perimeters, denting them with residuals of debris. Anakin’s tenacious cerulean orbs were illuminated with triumphant ecstasy, whilst he stared up at the obliterated ceiling. A wry smile gradually manifested upon his face, and the blood continued to relentlessly seep out the side of his bruised lips, as he lay seemingly incapacitated beside Obi-Wan. The two reputable Jedi Knights, both proudly displaying the visual scars of their recent altercation with the separatists were protected from the motion detonator Skywalker had strategically placed at the entrance, by several large metallic objects. After all is said and done You've never walked, you've never run, You're a winner Kenobi noticed the almost insubordinate grin on his former protégé’s chiseled face. “It’s hard for me to shake the thought that you actually enjoyed that.” A secondary explosion surged through the intricate ventilation shafts, annihilating all possible infiltration units dispatched by General Grievous. The fervent noxious yellow flames pierced through the cylindrical piping, severing the electrical connection to various fluorescent lights precariously hanging above them. You got the moves, you know the streets Break the rules, take the heat You're nobody's fool “Hey, what can you do?” Anakin turned to look at his best friend. “That was the last of the detonators.” “What do suggest we do? Grievous is not going to let us out alive. He’s got us trapped.” “Well, surrounding them is out.” Skywalker joked mischievously. “I can always count on you to lighten up the mood.” Obi-Wan chuckled briefly, before absorbing the incalculable severity of the situation. “Let’s just go straight out. There’s two of us, and about a million of them. I think that’s fair.” The Chosen One evaluated lightheartedly. “Oh that plan, they’ll never see that one coming. On one condition…” The Negotiator stressed. “What?” Anakin stirred slightly and spat out the blood congregating in his mouth. “No counting.” Obi-Wan winked. “Where’s the fun in that?” Anakin remarked. “You always end up with more than me.” Kenobi laughed. “Maybe this time I won’t. Wanna play?” Skywalker challenged. You're at your best when when the goin' gets rough You've been put to the test, but it's never enough The mystically imperceptible swirls of the Force caressed their athletic frames, saturating their taut muscles with an incalculable vigor. The two warriors strengthen the lateral tendons in their quadriceps and hamstrings before synchronously jumping back up into a vertical posture. Kenobi and Skywalker unleashed their pulsating azure lightsabers, allowing the homogenizing energy to encompass their physical presence. “Let’s play.” Obi-Wan replied coolly. You got the touch You got the power Several droids poured through the only opening, their weapons perfectly supported by both upper appendages. Anakin lazily spun the scintillatingly majestic weapon beside his torso; his roguish golden mane unperturbedly undulated over his passionate blue eyes, whilst he defiantly accelerated towards the feeble combatants. Skywalker lithely somersaulted over the primary line of droids; his powerful weapon flourished with exhilarating splendor, as he effortlessly decapitated half a dozen unsuspecting droids from the back. His sinuous and irresistible movement, accentuated by the vivacious flow of the Force through his vascularized body, allowed him to venomously deflect the blasters that now bombarded him from all angles. Anakin’s potent blade had helped create an impregnable shield of mesmeric blue in front of his sculpted physique, as he twisted the blade with ruthlessly precision. When all hell's breakin' loose You'll be riding the eye of the storm Kenobi adopted a less impetuous assault; he knowledgably scrutinized the surrounding vicinity. His shrewdly observant eyes immediately noticed several obliterated battle droids scattered over the area. Obi-Wan channeled his immense bond with the Force and discernibly moved his left palm across his face. Dozens of droids were immediately crushed under the overwhelming weight of their destroyed counterparts. Obi-Wan had cleared the opening, and jumped straight into the heat of battle. His blade courageously deflected the blasts back at their origin, rupturing several more droids. Anakin smiled fleetingly at his former master’s familiar tactics. He was more impulsive, boisterous and flamboyant, while Obi-Wan was calculating, deliberate and methodical. Their two styles were inexplicable complimentary…they completed the other. Skywalker tensed the sinewy tendons of his muscular deltoids, and stabbed his lightsaber into the durasteel floor; several blasts ricocheted off the blade and the floor, before savaging the metal frames of the droids. Skywalker sinuously spun on his heel, and remarkably decapitated two droids mid flight with pulsating roundhouse kicks. Mothers of the Desert Shmi tells Anakin a bedtime story, little does he know that it was her own. Based off of the song “Mothers of the Desert” by Moya Brennan. Where will we run? Sacrifice our time. Secret songs, are somewhere in the desert… Nobody was sure how or when it appeared, but it's effect was deadly and rapid. One minute, the person seemed fine, and then, with no warning, they would be delirious with the fever. The small village on the western side of the Jundland Wastes was all but vacant within the first month. It was the old who were affected in the beginning, and then the very young. It was a weakening sickness. First the victim couldn't work, and then they couldn't walk. Slowly, they grew weaker, and thinner, and then they just died. The young girl watched her village die in horror. It was difficult to hear stories about such things, but when it was happening before her very eyes, it was even worse. First, the girl's grandparents died, and then her baby brother. She couldn't understand why the sickness would take a baby, his laughing eyes didn't even know the difference between right and wrong yet. The child's friends were taken as well, and workers for the mushroom fields were harder and harder to find. By the end of that fateful summer, the girl was the last living child in the village. Healers were dumbfounded by the peculiar sickness. Working all hours of the day and night, they tried to find a cure. But, alas, no cure was found. The elders of the village talked of evacuating everyone, but how could they leave the sick alone to die, even if their fate was certain? And, how could they tell who carried the infectious disease? Try as they might, the elders just couldn't justify it, nor could they expose their neighbors to the sickness. So, they decided to just wait it out. As the sickness got worse and worse, the people of the tiny village naturally wanted something—or someone to blame. So the blame fell on the Mysterious Stranger. Only weeks prior to the breakout had the man suddenly appeared. Very few beings of any sort ever noticed the village of cave dwellings carved into the sides of the cliffs, and even fewer stopped to visit. The man—if that was what he was—didn't accept anyone's hospitality. He did not stay at the inn; nor did he sleep there. Nobody ever saw him sleep, and he was never seen with food or drink. He kept his distance, as did everyone else. But when the stranger was out of sight, the villagers would guess as to where he came from, or what he was. Most agreed that he was a sorcerer. His black, hooded cloak and pasty-white skin were disconcerting even to the most trusting of the villagers. And then one day, he had suddenly left, and had not left a trace of himself anywhere. The villagers scoured the rocks and cliffs for him, but he was not there. Within a few weeks of his departure, the first wave of sickness had traveled through the village. The girl's mother and father were strong to the last, but when one day, her father didn't return from the fields, they feared the worse. The girl's mother—a scribe—chronicled the sickness from day one, hoping to discern some sort of cure. But, alas, after many weeks, she too contracted the fatal illness. Everyone remembered her haunting last words. They were: Don't let me stray! A light will shine, bringing liberty, Scattered clans, scattered lands, Waiting for me. There came a time, only a week after the death of her mother, when the girl, stumbling from home to home, realized that she was the village's last living occupant. The knowledge hit her hard, and for three days she lived in shock. For three days she didn't sleep, nor eat. Instead, she waited for the sickness to claim her. When it did not, she packed the few food scraps she could find, and blindly began to stumble up the dunes. The chief elder lived on the outskirts of the city, so the girl thought that perhaps he might have been spared. Painstakingly, she began to make her way through the harsh desert climate, and onto the higher grounds. By the next morning, she had made her way to the elder's home. Climbing the simple steps to his home, she knocked on the door. Only the sound of the winds answered her. Everyone knew not to enter the home of the Great Elder without calling, but the girl felt alone, and afraid. So quietly, she entered. -----signature----- Official Sock for the 2008 FFA--Saga Edition Have questions about the awards? PM us!
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