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Author	Topic: Acid Etched [Bao-Dur/Exile, ISSR]
Elena Registered: Aug '03	Date Posted: 1/23/06 9:11pm Subject: Acid Etched [Bao-Dur/Exile, ISSR] - Date Edited: 3/1/06 9:00pm (2 edits total) Edited By: Elena
	[Written for KFM's Dueling Circle Challenge #16 - Altered States. Set between the Carth/Exile conversation and the crash on Malachor V. Features interspecies 'ship, although not the kind you would imagine, I believe. Editing courtesy of the sublime Thrawn McEwok.] ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The cantina was raucous, more than usual. Then again, surviving almost certain death was generally something to celebrate, so maybe that was why what felt like half the population of Citadel Station was here, drinking, gambling, and just generally having a good time. Bao-Dur was the odd man out. Alone, unsmiling, and steadily nursing his drink, there was a large radius of empty space around him at the bar. The barkeep only came near him to get him another drink, and then he scuttled to the other end of the bar and the genial TSF drunks calling for drinks, more drinks. “Why the long face, Bao-Dur?” He looks up involuntarily, eyes flicking up and down and up again, finally settling on the speaker’s face. His mouth curves into a weak smile. “Hello, General. How was your meeting with Admiral Onasi?” “Good,” she says, smiling. “That doesn’t answer my question, however.” The smile on his face wavers and falls away, replaced by a deep-seated depression. “Oh, I was just thinking about our upcoming destination.” “Upcoming destination?” she questions gently, eyebrow raised, and she slides into the barstool next to him. “You mean you don’t know?” He looks at her cynically, and under his harsh, alien eyes she seems to wilt. “I know. Just don’t want to think about it, I guess.” The Iridonian gestures sharply to the bartender, and he scuttles over with another shot glass and a bottle of whiskey. “Help yourself,” Bao-Dur says, nodding toward the Exile. “Thanks,” she said, surprised, and she pours herself a glass. They sat there awhile, the only movement coming when one of the figures would pick up the bottle and pour some more whiskey into their glass. The radius of the no-contact bubble around the zabrak expanded to include the human, and people avoided both of them in their melancholy haze. Unexpectedly, the Exile turned and looked at Bao-Dur with a strange intensity. “We should go, get everything ready so we-” “Don’t worry about it,” the tech said waving his hand languidly. The drinks had made him more relaxed, more pliable. “I took care of everything while you were gone.” “Oh?” “Yeah, I gathered everybody up and sent them out on ‘missions’. Uh, I found Mira a station to make grenades and mines, I sent HK out to buy armor and weapons, Mical is scrounging medical supplies, Visas is selling some of the stuff we’ve found, and Atton is doing what he does best: making money.” He waves in the general direction of the pazaak table to make his point. “And what are you doing?” she questions archly. “Sitting in a cantina drinking while the others do the work.” Bao-Dur chuckles quietly. “I gave my repair plan to T3. He’s overseeing the tech crew Lt. Grenn lent to us, making sure they do what I want them to do.” The Exile laughs at this, and Bao-Dur watches her face lift up, her eyes close in mirth. “Oh, Bao-Dur…you should have stayed in the army; you would have done well there.” Bao-Dur snorts, almost spitting out his drink as he laughed loudly. “What’s so funny?” the Exile demanded indignantly. “It’s true! You like ordering people around, you like making them do stuff! And you’re good at it!” He shakes his head, still convulsing with laughter. “I was a terrible officer. I was always running late, always something wrong with my uniform, always getting into trouble… They were glad to see the back of me, when I left, after.” The Exile just grinned slyly. “I remember more of you, now that I’ve spent so much time with you. It helps that there aren’t as many zabraks in the service…” Bao-Dur just shakes his head slowly. “You probably remember something really embarrassing, don’t you? Figures…” “Actually,” the Exile said, smile still firmly in place, “I remember all the female officers would go crazy over you in your uniform. They all thought you filled it out very well.” Bao-Dur ducked his head, a blush coloring his cheeks. “Is that…a blush? I didn’t think you big, tough, Iridonian boys got embarrassed by that sort of thing…” “Oh, shut up.” “Wait’ll I tell Mira about this…” “Oh, Force…” For a minute, they just sit there, the blushing man and the gleeful woman, and it’s something so normal, something that happens every day on some force-forsaken little world where the people never leave and have friends they have known forever and bonded with over work and school - not people they met in an awful, bloody war, not people they bonded with over shared grief and guilt. And then a song starts, and the Exile jumps up, laughing. “I like this song – dance with me!” and she grabs Bao-Dur by the arm and starts dragging him to the dance floor. And for a minute, he thinks about it. If he were ten years younger…but no. She’s drunk, and so is he, or he wouldn’t even be considering this. “No, no – I’m a terrible dancer, General.” She looks up at him through her eyelashes, oddly…betrayed. “Liar.” And he pulls away from her, looks at her deeply, thoughtfully. “No,” he says slowly. “I really can’t dance. Two left feet, General.” She looks at him hard, and something about what he said pleases her. “All right. Let’s go back to the bar, then.” Bao-Dur just shakes his head. “I don’t think so. We’ve both had enough tonight – we should go back to out quarters.” He takes her arm gently and tugs her to the exit, and she leans on him as they walk down the halls of Citadel Station. Even at night, people are moving around, repairing consoles, talking to neighbors, re-opening their shops…its bedlam. The Exile turns her face into Bao-Dur’s shoulder and shudders, and in response, he walks faster, pulling her with him. “Why aren’t we going to the Ebon Hawk?” she asks quietly, and he looks at her for a moment before pulling her to another transit shuttle. “The Ebon Hawk is in the middle of repairs, remember? Lt. Grenn was kind enough to give us temporary quarters for a little while, so we’re staying there until we leave.” “That makes sense,” she says sleepily, and the Iridonian had to suppress a smile at how quickly humans can get drunk. He lost his smile after stumbling around a corner and realizing he wasn’t much better. Finally, though, they made it to the quarters, and he stopped in front of the room they’d designated for the females, keying in the code for the room. Now, is it 9134, or 9582? Neither code worked, and he wracked his brain for the correct one. The Exile muttered something indistinctly, and out of habit, he bent down to hear her better. “Yes, General?” And then she kissed him. As kisses go, it wasn’t that good. Bao-Dur knew that humans weren’t supposed to taste so acid-bitter, and he knew that she was drunk and would regret it. Mostly, though, he knew that it was wrong to do this, and he should stop immediately. When he pushed her away, keeping a grip on her arms, he saw that she had a triumphant grin on her face, cheerful and cocksure. He suddenly felt tired, and very old. If he was only ten years younger… “Why’d you stop?” She asked quietly, and he sighed. “You’d regret it in the morning, and so would I. This isn’t the time or place to be doing such things, and I’m not the person.” “What do you mean?” she asks curiously, and she tilts her head like the canines on Iridonia do. “What about Atton, or the Disciple? Both of them are fine men, interested in you…” She just looks at him as though he doesn’t understand. “They aren’t what they seem. Nobody is, except you.” He shakes his head firmly. “That just proves my point, General. You’re lonely and betrayed, and you want-” “-to feel like I trust somebody?” She finishes wryly, sardonic twist to her mouth. “It’s not like that, but that’s all right. This is the wrong time and place, so why don’t you be a good little soldier and tuck your poor, ailing commander into bed?” Bao-Dur just pulls her into the room, stifling laughter at her mercurial changes of mood. Humans… He pushes her onto the first bed he sees, and she lies there like a limp rag doll. That’s good, though – easier for him to get her tucked away. He pulls off her boots and armor, sets them neatly by the bed, and pulls the covers over her, draping them neatly. Then he starts making the bed. “Hey, I’m still in here, you know! I don’t plan on leaving for a while, either…” “That’s what everyone says,” the tech observes calmly. “Funny how plans don’t work out.” She collapses into a sulking silence, and he finishes tucking the sheets under the bed in silence. “Lights, off,” he states, and the room is thrown into darkness, the only light coming from the station streets outside the room window. In the darkness, Bao-Dur is a just a more solid shade of dark, and he bends over the Exile, to the point where she can feel his breath on her face. He just brushes the hair off her face and turns away. “Good night, General.” “Bao-Dur, considering the circumstances, I think you can call me by my given name now.” He just rolls his eyes before stepping through the threshold of the room. “See you in the morning, General.” He closes the doors behind him. In the darkness of the room the men share, he climbs into bed and stares at the ceiling and thinks of Iridonia. He’s been missing it lately, more than he has in the previous eight years. He wonders if he should go home – if he survives, that is. His mind goes around in circles and circles, and he falls into a troubled sleep. In his dreams, a black planet seethes, and in its death throes writhes most horribly. It is unholy, and unconsecrated, and the bodies of the dead lie there unburied. This is Malachor V, he thinks before waking, but when he does wake up, he doesn’t remember. All he knows is the acid-sour taste in his mouth and the pounding headache in his temples. It’s the next day, and he shuffles out of bed reluctantly. At breakfast, the Exile tells them they leave for Malachor V in an hour. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~` EDIT: There is a prequel ("Undivided Attention") and a sequel ("Wants") to this 'fic, both on these boards... -----signature----- Pretty, practical, and the Ewok's Hand: Redheaded teenaged girls make the best assassins Always willing to do a side-job for Quiet_Mandalorian, though And Kreia...well, Kreia was a woman who tried to be a Jedi, then tried to be a Sith, and failed at both
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Thrawn McEwok Title: TFN EU Staff Registered: May '00	Date Posted: 1/24/06 7:32am Subject: RE: Acid Etched [Bao-Dur/Exile, ISSR] - Date Edited: 1/24/06 7:34am (1 edits total) Edited By: Thrawn McEwok
	Elena: [Written for KFM's Dueling Circle Challenge #16 - Altered States. Set between the Carth/Exile conversation and the crash on Malachor V. Features interspecies 'ship, although not the kind you would imagine, I believe. Editing courtesy of the sublime Thrawn McEwok.] ("... from the sublime to the ridiculous is just a small step"? ) But, hey! All I did was suggest a few minor formatting quirks. This is yours, 'Lena... And it's... great! This 'fic is, I think, about things unsaid and unspoken - perhaps things that words are inadequate to describe; perhaps things that words simply aren't needed to express. In that, I suppose, it forms a sort of companion piece to your Nihilus character-study, which is an odd thought... On one level, I suppose, this is a knowing 'fic, one that isn't afraid to give a couple of winks to the reader (and which smooths them seamlessly into the flow of the narrative, loading them with meaning and context that works in-universe)... “Bao-Dur, considering the circumstances, I think you can call me by my given name now.” The most obvious theme of the 'fic, however, is, as the title puts it: [Bao-Dur/Exile, ISSR]. They're experimenting with different types of proximity, physical and emotional - different combinations, just like unlocking the door; and that's also reflected in the way that you move the story around. The opening establishes the sense of movement and shifting perspectives - the switch from an overview of the scene to a single character, to two. And as you lead the reader through the 'fic (a relationship which maps neatly into the experience of the two characters?), we see them dancing from silence to laughter to movement to seriousness to seperation. It's like a puzzle that they're trying to figure out... ... together? And then, of course, that's not nearly enough words to cover everything, either in the story, or the way you tell it. The best I can do is quote a bit. “No, no – I’m a terrible dancer, General.” She looks up at him through her eyelashes, oddly…betrayed. “Liar.” And he pulls away from her, looks at her deeply, thoughtfully. “No,” he says slowly. “I really can’t dance. Two left feet, General.” She looks at him hard, and something about what he said pleases her. “All right. Let’s go back to the bar, then.” But then, on another level, or rather another scale - monumental and echoing rather than intimate and intricate - than there's the elephant in the room; or in this case, the planet that no-one wants to talk about... The smile on his face wavers and falls away, replaced by a deep-seated depression. “Oh, I was just thinking about our upcoming destination.” “Upcoming destination?” she questions gently, eyebrow raised, and she slides into the barstool next to him. “You mean you don’t know?” He looks at her cynically, and under his harsh, alien eyes she seems to wilt. “I know. Just don’t want to think about it, I guess.” So they try to change the subject, move away... He shakes his head, still convulsing with laughter. “I was a terrible officer. I was always running late, always something wrong with my uniform, always getting into trouble… They were glad to see the back of me, when I left, after.” Pause. Even when, at the end, the 'fic allows the name of the place to be said, it remains something shadowy and nebulous - we're not told directly why, or how... almost as though Malachor V is too big for such description, limitation, rationalization. And we're back to the theme of things that can't be said again. In his dreams, a black planet seethes, and in its death throes writhes most horribly. It is unholy, and unconsecrated, and the bodies of the dead lie there unburied. This is Malachor V, he thinks before waking, but when he does wake up, he doesn’t remember. All he knows is the acid-sour taste in his mouth and the pounding headache in his temples. It’s the next day, and he shuffles out of bed reluctantly. At breakfast, the Exile tells them they leave for Malachor V in an hour. And of course, Malachor V isn't just a "black planet" - it was a gravity-well weapon, built by Bao-Dur under the Exile's command. It is described as a "wound in the Force". Even if only in memory, it's a massive black abyss that draws everything towards it. A focus, however much people might try to draw away from it. Like the pupil of an unblinking eye. Of course, in a way, Malachor V is what binds the two of them together; they're drawn into proximity by effect of the gravity well - metaphorially, metaphysically, or perhaps simply in the Force... and, when you realise that, you start to see references to the fact in the 'fic itself... Bao-Dur was the odd man out. Alone, unsmiling, and steadily nursing his drink, there was a large radius of empty space around him at the bar. And then she joins him. Because, in a way, it's comfortable in there... They sat there awhile, the only movement coming when one of the figures would pick up the bottle and pour some more whiskey into their glass. The radius of the no-contact bubble around the zabrak expanded to include the human, and people avoided both of them in their melancholy haze. This looks like an echo of what happened to the Exile herself - which isn't mentioned directly once in the 'fic, because some things don't need to be said. The Exile appears as a "wound in the Force" to Kreia, she can't see Bao-Dur either... But by now, I've already realised that, as the conversation hints, both in the way it's shared, and in the direct subtext, they were together from beforehand. In the bustle of an army, they didn't stop to think what noticing each other across the crowded spaces meant... but they did. And even if they're not prepared to put into the words, they both know that it was the two of them who were central to making it happen: her orders and his equipment. Malachor V was the mating of her tactical vision and his technical skill. They can... do stuff, when they get together... They're orbiting inward towards each other, maybe (dancing, even if they're embarrassed to admit it, to formalize it on the dancefloor); they're creating something, giving life. I don't entirely know how to square that with Malachor V, but by being drawn in together, they find each other. And out of Malachor V comes Bao/Ex. And it's... ... well, it's more than the metaphor, more than any simplistic terms. It's friendship, maybe, but only because that's a loose and tolerant term. This 'fic, and the universe, wouldn't have it any other way. Quiet, understated, and beautiful. Knowing, dangerous, and ferociously intelligent. Like I said: it's great!! - The Imperial Ewok -----signature----- A/T = OTP :===8[#]8===: Kyp/Jaina fans: stand up and be counted!
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Master_Keralys Title: Manager Emeritus Registered: Oct '03	Date Posted: 1/24/06 1:08pm Subject: RE: Acid Etched [Bao-Dur/Exile, ISSR]
	Interesting. Very interesting, actually. There's something about this that catches my attention; you've somehow captured the very essence of what that game felt like - the seething grayness, the fundamental shadow, and the hopeless hopefulness that is born out despite everything indicating that the contrary ought to be true. There's a sense of quiet desperation here, a "tomorrow we die so sleep with me tonight" sense that is, of course, ultimately defeated, adding to the darkness of the piece as a whole. I find your characterization to be nearly flawless... though in some sense, the nature of the characters is limiting, as well. There is also something of the feel of Bao-Dur's alienness here, a feeling that he is simply, in some fundamental way, [ij]different[/i] - not wrong, of course, but certainly different. That fascinates me; it is something that is very rarely seen even in profic, where the most that is typically done with that idea is changing speech patterns instead of communicating the actual difference in relating to the universe. I like very much that you took the perspective of Bao-Dur, as well, because I don't think I've ever seen that done; every KotOR fic takes the perspective of the Exile in situations like this. I think what is most compelling about this is Bao-Dur's sense of duty, his unrelenting will that what must be done, must be done - and that any other feeling or sense of desire is completely secondary, if not entirely tertiary to the importance of duty. Also, the sense that he really doesn't want anything with the Exile, unlike every other male member of the party (except Canderous)... even where the Exile might want something from him. Fascinating stuff. I wish I were able to more coherently review it; I may, in fact, try to do so later when I can better think through all of my perceptions on it. Overall though: very good job. - Keralys -----signature----- God made man. Man rejected God. God became the man Jesus Christ, died and rose again to life, saving man from himself. The craziest story ever told. The truest.
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Healer_Leona Title: Manager Emeritus Registered: Jul '00	Date Posted: 1/24/06 1:35pm Subject: RE: Acid Etched [Bao-Dur/Exile, ISSR]
	No idea about the game, but this is wonderful. I find myself quite impressed with Bao-Dur and rather sad for the General. I do like how he continues to call her that even after express permission to use her given name. Very well done Elana!! -----signature----- I've been waiting so long to be where I'm going
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obi_webb Registered: Aug '05	Date Posted: 1/24/06 5:17pm Subject: RE: Acid Etched [Bao-Dur/Exile, ISSR]
	i always was interested in the relationship between bao-dur and the exile and i can't imagine it being portrayed any better then what you do with this! on it's surface it's just 2 friends talking in a cantina but you give it so many layers that make this the beautiful piece of work it turned out to be! -----signature----- Jedi Consular- Acolytes of Revan A Jedi's Sacrifice- my kotor fic http://boards.theforce.net/before_the_saga/b10475/22040803/p1/ LOAD THE SPACESHIP WITH THE ROCKET FUEL.. LOAD IT WITH THE WARRIORS!-- Ultimate Warrior
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VaderLVR64 Title: Manager Emeritus Registered: Feb '04	Date Posted: 1/24/06 7:40pm Subject: RE: Acid Etched [Bao-Dur/Exile, ISSR]
	Incredibly well done! -----signature----- Team Eric: Because undead never looked so good. Soldiers' Angels http://soldiersangels.org/ 2114 soldiers waiting for someone to care
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Elena Registered: Aug '03	Date Posted: 1/25/06 4:58am Subject: RE: Acid Etched [Bao-Dur/Exile, ISSR]
	Thrawn: "... from the sublime to the ridiculous is just a small step"? You said it, not me. And it's... great! blushes This 'fic is, I think, about things unsaid and unspoken - perhaps things that words are inadequate to describe; perhaps things that words simply aren't needed to express. In that, I suppose, it forms a sort of companion piece to your Nihilus character-study, which is an odd thought... grins Or, it could be that my writing style has improved/matured and you’re just noticing now because of all the KotOR fic I’ve been tossing out. They're experimenting with different types of proximity, physical and emotional - different combinations, just like unlocking the door; and that's also reflected in the way that you move the story around. Yes. But that;s true of most of the characters in KotORII. The Exile, it’s inferred, spent most of her exile alone, traveling. After the war, Bao-Dur seems to have traveled around the galaxy trying to do penance for his part in Malachor V. When she meets him on her journey, he’s working solo on the Telos Restoration Project. I’ve heard that Brianna, the Handmaiden, tells the male Exile that Bao-Dur, while greatly respected on Telos, is a solitary figure. The Exile is the only one he will seek out. Their journey in KotOR II – and the journey of most of the others – is one of trust, of learning to lean and support others. The opening establishes the sense of movement and shifting perspectives - the switch from an overview of the scene to a single character, to two. And as you lead the reader through the 'fic (a relationship which maps neatly into the experience of the two characters?), we see them dancing from silence to laughter to movement to seriousness to seperation. It's like a puzzle that they're trying to figure out... ... together? It’s all unconscious, although my gut instinct is rarely wrong. All unconscious! But then, on another level, or rather another scale - monumental and echoing rather than intimate and intricate - than there's the elephant in the room; or in this case, the planet that no-one wants to talk about... Yes! Malachor V = very important… So they try to change the subject, move away... grins wryly Well, it is their impending death coming up…more than that, though, is that to talk of Malachor V is to invite all sorts of uncomfortable questions in. And the Exile and Bao-Dur are very happy with their status quo. Pause. Even when, at the end, the 'fic allows the name of the place to be said, it remains something shadowy and nebulous - we're not told directly why, or how... almost as though Malachor V is too big for such description, limitation, rationalization. And we're back to the theme of things that can't be said again. Have I mentioned how much I love you, lately? And of course, Malachor V isn't just a "black planet" - it was a gravity-well weapon, built by Bao-Dur under the Exile's command. It is described as a "wound in the Force". Even if only in memory, it's a massive black abyss that draws everything towards it. A focus, however much people might try to draw away from it. Like the pupil of an unblinking eye. YES! Malachor V is the focal point of KotOR II. Everything you do, everything you say and think and feel, lead back to that horrible place. Because you created it – you took part in it, took part in the infliction of that “wound in the Force”. Everyone at that battle did, to a point. The Exile is not the wound, but she is the effect. Everyone who survived that battle is an echo, and as they walked through the galaxy, the echo spread, until they met and conflicted. Sion, Nihilus, Kreia, Revan, Malak, Bao-Dur, the Exile, and Carth Onasi – they all interact in strange, difficult ways. Of course, in a way, Malachor V is what binds the two of them together; they're drawn into proximity by effect of the gravity well - metaphorially, metaphysically, or perhaps simply in the Force... and, when you realise that, you start to see references to the fact in the 'fic itself... Elena hands chocolate chip cookie to Thrawn And then she joins him. Because, in a way, it's comfortable in there... “He’s the only one who really understands, somehow…” This looks like an echo of what happened to the Exile herself - which isn't mentioned directly once in the 'fic, because some things don't need to be said. The Exile appears as a "wound in the Force" to Kreia, she can't see Bao-Dur either... cheers I think you’ve just provided the best answer to the speculation on why Kreia can’t see/hear Bao-Dur. It’s a better answer than “he’s an alien, that’s why”… But by now, I've already realised that, as the conversation hints, both in the way it's shared, and in the direct subtext, they were together from beforehand. In the bustle of an army, they didn't stop to think what noticing each other across the crowded spaces meant... but they did. smiles I’m trying very hard not to be zapped by the “Prequel Laser” and toss off some sub-standard shoddy piece of work just because. And even if they're not prepared to put into the words, they both know that it was the two of them who were central to making it happen: her orders and his equipment. Malachor V was the mating of her tactical vision and his technical skill. They can... do stuff, when they get together... nods head Revan may have orchestrated the whole thing, but in the end, it was they who did it. They made the MSG, and they made the plan to execute. And upon their head goes the grief and guilt of Malachor V. They're orbiting inward towards each other, maybe (dancing, even if they're embarrassed to admit it, to formalize it on the dancefloor); they're creating something, giving life. I don't entirely know how to square that with Malachor V, but by being drawn in together, they find each other. And out of Malachor V comes Bao/Ex. And it's... I don’t know either, but it’s there. All tied up in each other and Malachor V. Because without Malachor V, they wouldn’t be the people they are today – and that, too, is a theme of KotOR II. You cannot refuse who you are and what you have done. Without Malachor V, this ‘fic couldn’t even happen. ... well, it's more than the metaphor, more than any simplistic terms. It's friendship, maybe, but only because that's a loose and tolerant term. This 'fic, and the universe, wouldn't have it any other way. Quiet, understated, and beautiful. Knowing, dangerous, and ferociously intelligent. Like I said: it's great!! grins Thanks! gives Thrawn daisies for uber-review Master Keralys: Interesting. Very interesting, actually. There's something about this that catches my attention; you've somehow captured the very essence of what that game felt like - the seething grayness, the fundamental shadow, and the hopeless hopefulness that is born out despite everything indicating that the contrary ought to be true. It’s the essential “feel” of Star Wars – the idea that even though things might really, really suck right now, they will get better, if you have the courage to choose the right path. There's a sense of quiet desperation here, a "tomorrow we die so sleep with me tonight" sense that is, of course, ultimately defeated, adding to the darkness of the piece as a whole. I find your characterization to be nearly flawless... though in some sense, the nature of the characters is limiting, as well. Thank you! And yes, the characters are somewhat limiting, seeing as one is almost a Mary-Sue because of her nature in the game, and the other is a character with very little progression in-game. There is also something of the feel of Bao-Dur's alienness here, a feeling that he is simply, in some fundamental way, [ij]different - not wrong, of course, but certainly different. That fascinates me; it is something that is very rarely seen even in profic, where the most that is typically done with that idea is changing speech patterns instead of communicating the actual difference in relating to the universe. I like very much that you took the perspective of Bao-Dur, as well, because I don't think I've [/i]ever seen that done; every KotOR fic takes the perspective of the Exile in situations like this. I’ll admit, Jest’lyn Tal’s story Golems was a major influence on how I see Bao-Dur. But VanillaLatte’s At the End of All Things is a pretty good post-KotOR II fic with Alien!Bao-Dur. I think what is most compelling about this is Bao-Dur's sense of duty, his unrelenting will that what must be done, must be done - and that any other feeling or sense of desire is completely secondary, if not entirely tertiary to the importance of duty. Also, the sense that he really doesn't want anything with the Exile, unlike every other male member of the party (except Canderous)... even where the Exile might want something from him. He and the Exile have a…complicated relationship. But yes, he is not pursuing the Exile as relentlessly as Jedi Killer Atton and Puppy Love Mical. Fascinating stuff. I wish I were able to more coherently review it; I may, in fact, try to do so later when I can better think through all of my perceptions on it. Overall though: very good job. grins Well, thanks for reading it! Healer Leona: No idea about the game, but this is wonderful. I find myself quite impressed with Bao-Dur and rather sad for the General. I do like how he continues to call her that even after express permission to use her given name. Thanks! obiwebb: i always was interested in the relationship between bao-dur and the exile and i can't imagine it being portrayed any better then what you do with this! on it's surface it's just 2 friends talking in a cantina but you give it so many layers that make this the beautiful piece of work it turned out to be! grins bashfully Thanks very much. VaderLVR64: Incredibly well done! Thanks! Elena -----signature----- Pretty, practical, and the Ewok's Hand: Redheaded teenaged girls make the best assassins Always willing to do a side-job for Quiet_Mandalorian, though And Kreia...well, Kreia was a woman who tried to be a Jedi, then tried to be a Sith, and failed at both
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Thrawn McEwok Title: TFN EU Staff Registered: May '00	Date Posted: 1/26/06 9:08am Subject: RE: Acid Etched [Bao-Dur/Exile, ISSR]
	Elena: You said it, not me. But knowing you, it was exactly what you wanted me to say... blushes grins grins Or, it could be that my writing style has improved/matured and you’re just noticing now because of all the KotOR fic I’ve been tossing out. Hmm... thinks A lot of your 'fic has often been about language, culture, communication and hostility... I guess maybe it's the combination of context, timing, and style. But I still think there's a bright star/black planet contrast, and also a Nihilis vs. Bao/Ex one... maybe it's inevitable? Yes. But that;s true of most of the characters in KotORII. The Exile, it’s inferred, spent most of her exile alone, traveling. After the war, Bao-Dur seems to have traveled around the galaxy trying to do penance for his part in Malachor V. When she meets him on her journey, he’s working solo on the Telos Restoration Project. I’ve heard that Brianna, the Handmaiden, tells the male Exile that Bao-Dur, while greatly respected on Telos, is a solitary figure. The Exile is the only one he will seek out. Their journey in KotOR II – and the journey of most of the others – is one of trust, of learning to lean and support others. Hmm... then again, there's a difference between learning to overcome obstacles, which can be grim - and the learning curve that's fun to climb together... Maybe you've just converted me to this 'ship, but it sounds to me like Bao and Ex complete each other, in a way that's natural... they're alone, until/unless they're together... maybe it's a dangerous combination, though...? It’s all unconscious, although my gut instinct is rarely wrong. All unconscious! Your unconscious lives in your guts? Well, they do say now that the belly has some of the electrochemical behaviours of a brain... had a haggis for supper, and feeling very mellow and content Yes! Malachor V = very important… snorts in amusement grins wryly Well, it is their impending death coming up…more than that, though, is that to talk of Malachor V is to invite all sorts of uncomfortable questions in. And the Exile and Bao-Dur are very happy with their status quo. nods That's very true... like I said, they complete each other? Pause. Heh. Have I mentioned how much I love you, lately? Mischief! No, as it happens, but the only appropriate answer in this context is "I know"... YES! Malachor V is the focal point of KotOR II. Everything you do, everything you say and think and feel, lead back to that horrible place. Because you created it – you took part in it, took part in the infliction of that “wound in the Force”. Everyone at that battle did, to a point. The Exile is not the wound, but she is the effect. Everyone who survived that battle is an echo, and as they walked through the galaxy, the echo spread, until they met and conflicted. Sion, Nihilus, Kreia, Revan, Malak, Bao-Dur, the Exile, and Carth Onasi – they all interact in strange, difficult ways. Is that the point? They stand at odd angles, interruping the wavelengths - like gravitic anomalies in themsleves? They don't fall into line. And by refusing to, they prove the lie of the agendas of Jedi and Sith alike... Elena hands chocolate chip cookie to Thrawn munch Thanks! “He’s the only one who really understands, somehow…” tries to place the quote Um... you lost me! cheers I think you’ve just provided the best answer to the speculation on why Kreia can’t see/hear Bao-Dur. It’s a better answer than “he’s an alien, that’s why”… Isn't it obvious? smiles I’m trying very hard not to be zapped by the “Prequel Laser” and toss off some sub-standard shoddy piece of work just because. Well, at least it won't be six hours of film that break a generation's heart... nods head Revan may have orchestrated the whole thing, but in the end, it was they who did it. They made the MSG, and they made the plan to execute. And upon their head goes the grief and guilt of Malachor V. They won, though... didn't they? I don’t know either, but it’s there. All tied up in each other and Malachor V. Because without Malachor V, they wouldn’t be the people they are today – and that, too, is a theme of KotOR II. You cannot refuse who you are and what you have done. Without Malachor V, this ‘fic couldn’t even happen. nods grins Thanks! gives Thrawn daisies for uber-review Hmm? She loves me... She loves me not... She loves me... She loves me not... She... - The Imperial Ewok -----signature----- A/T = OTP :===8[#]8===: Kyp/Jaina fans: stand up and be counted!
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Quiet_Mandalorian Registered: Apr '05	Date Posted: 1/28/06 11:44am Subject: RE: Acid Etched [Bao-Dur/Exile, ISSR] - Date Edited: 1/28/06 6:41pm (2 edits total) Edited By: Quiet_Mandalorian
	Okay, I'm back now. I really want to say something appreciative about this, something suitably interesting in praise of your story as befits it, but since Thrawn and Keralys have covered nearly everything else, I'll have to settle with simply stating my initial reactions to it. I enjoyed it immensely, though in a rather odd way I'm still trying to define. I suppose that might have been your intention though, as the story itself seems to be like that. Not so much is said here as subtly hinted at, the memories of the Exile and Bao-Dur, the implications of her teasing, drunken invitations to him, the vague dread and trepidation at what must be done, of the task ahead. It seems almost like a chiffon cake, full of texture and flavours half-hinted at that tease you and evaporate in a moment, but one meant to be eaten at a funeral, or a memorial service, and I mean that in an entirely positive way, if such a thing can be imagined. Admittedly, I must confess to being unfamiliar with these characters, even moreso than Revan and his companions, but in a way that might have merely added to my absorbment in the story. For all that I knew of them before, once immersed I might have been just another soldier, watching the scene unfold from across the bar, wondering also, if the next day would be my last. As we of the Mandalore say, ori'jatne, ner vod. -----signature----- Fey'la was right! Bring Asyr Sei'lar to justice!
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Elena Registered: Aug '03	Date Posted: 2/16/06 5:42pm Subject: RE: Acid Etched [Bao-Dur/Exile, ISSR] - Date Edited: 2/16/06 5:44pm (1 edits total) Edited By: Elena
	Thrawn: But knowing you, it was exactly what you wanted me to say... "...silence..." Hmm... thinks A lot of your 'fic has often been about language, culture, communication and hostility... I guess maybe it's the combination of context, timing, and style. But I still think there's a bright star/black planet contrast, and also a Nihilis vs. Bao/Ex one... maybe it's inevitable? Well, if you say so... Maybe you've just converted me to this 'ship, but it sounds to me like Bao and Ex complete each other, in a way that's natural... they're alone, until/unless they're together... maybe it's a dangerous combination, though...? Well, they did win the war, and less than a decade later, they then save the galaxy again. Of course, they do so by destroying planets... Your unconscious lives in your guts? Well, they do say now that the belly has some of the electrochemical behaviours of a brain... pokes tummy snorts in amusement Hey, you'd be amazed how many people forget! Mischief! No, as it happens, but the only appropriate answer in this context is "I know"... pokes carbonite ewok Is that the point? They stand at odd angles, interruping the wavelengths - like gravitic anomalies in themsleves? They don't fall into line. And by refusing to, they prove the lie of the agendas of Jedi and Sith alike... Right Angles [Carth Onasi, Bao-Dur, Exile] +++++++++++++ Carth looked at the two Jedi disbelievingly. "Say again?" The Iridonian grinned and looked at the Exile, and the Exile grinned and looked at him, and Carth really wished he had kept Mission around, because she was sane. Relatively, anyway. "We think we can take care of that little Sith problem you have," the Exile said, exaggerating and elongating the words. "And it's easy. All we need is an interdictor, a minefield, two cruisers and five wrecks. Oh, and a wing of starfighters and the 175th Engineering Corps. Any problems?" Carth sighed, and rubbed his eyes. "Tell me why you want them, and maybe I'll know..." +++++++++ Well, at least it won't be six hours of film that break a generation's heart... sniffles I know! They won, though... didn't they? Well, they won the Mandalorian Wars, yeah. But they managed to destroy most of the uncorrupted Navy while they were at it, and what they did probably helped break the Jedi Order, even more than what Revan did. ...then again, that's what Revan wanted. Hmm? She loves me... She loves me not... She loves me... She loves me not... She... Cheek! Quiet_Mandalorian: I enjoyed it immensely, though in a rather odd way I'm still trying to define. I suppose that might have been your intention though, as the story itself seems to be like that. Not so much is said here as subtly hinted at, the memories of the Exile and Bao-Dur, the implications of her teasing, drunken invitations to him, the vague dread and trepidation at what must be done, of the task ahead. grins KotORII is a lot subtler than the first one - I was trying to hit that feeling. It seems almost like a chiffon cake, full of texture and flavours half-hinted at that tease you and evaporate in a moment, but one meant to be eaten at a funeral, or a memorial service, and I mean that in an entirely positive way, if such a thing can be imagined. Wow. A boy just compared my 'fic to cake. Thrawn, I'm sorry, but you've just been replaced in my affections... Admittedly, I must confess to being unfamiliar with these characters, even moreso than Revan and his companions, but in a way that might have merely added to my absorbment in the story. For all that I knew of them before, once immersed I might have been just another soldier, watching the scene unfold from across the bar, wondering also, if the next day would be my last. I'm glad it got that response from you, and I'm glad you enjoyed it. As we of the Mandalore say, ori'jatne, ner vod. melts Elena -----signature----- Pretty, practical, and the Ewok's Hand: Redheaded teenaged girls make the best assassins Always willing to do a side-job for Quiet_Mandalorian, though And Kreia...well, Kreia was a woman who tried to be a Jedi, then tried to be a Sith, and failed at both
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Quiet_Mandalorian Registered: Apr '05	Date Posted: 2/20/06 12:19pm Subject: RE: Acid Etched [Bao-Dur/Exile, ISSR] - Date Edited: 2/20/06 12:19pm (1 edits total) Edited By: Quiet_Mandalorian
	Elena posted: grins KotORII is a lot subtler than the first one - I was trying to hit that feeling. Indeed? I hope to play it someday, hopefully before KotOR III is released. Elena posted: Wow. A boy just compared my 'fic to cake. Well, it seemed a rather appropriate metaphor. Elena posted: Thrawn, I'm sorry, but you've just been replaced in my affections... Does this mean you'll be changing your title to "The Mandalorian's Hand"? Elena posted: I'm glad it got that response from you, and I'm glad you enjoyed it. And I, in turn, am glad you wrote it. Elena posted: melts catches her in mid-swoon -----signature----- Fey'la was right! Bring Asyr Sei'lar to justice!
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Art_Of_War Registered: Dec '05	Date Posted: 2/20/06 1:06pm Subject: RE: Acid Etched [Bao-Dur/Exile, ISSR]
	Wow.... Quite possibly the best interplay between the Exile and Bao-Dur yet to be seen on the boards. Keep up the good work. -----signature----- Though legendary was his utter and pervasive lack of care, the storied Art of War set foot on the edge and became a vile tergiversator, doomed to burn in the everfires of Hypocrasatic Hell for his apostasy in daring to give a darn*. -Exeter
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Thrawn McEwok Title: TFN EU Staff Registered: May '00	Date Posted: 2/24/06 7:30pm Subject: RE: Acid Etched [Bao-Dur/Exile, ISSR]
	Elena: "...silence..." shares Well, if you say so... From a certain point of view? Well, they did win the war, and less than a decade later, they then save the galaxy again. So did Han and Leia... hrm, hang on - Han and Luke?! Of course, they do so by destroying planets... This is Star Wars? pokes tummy And what does it say? Hey, you'd be amazed how many people forget! Well, LFL, DelRey and all the profic authors lost track of the fact that Jaina and Jag fought together for the better half of a year between DT:R and BP... pokes carbonite ewok I want to take that image and frame it!! Right Angles [Carth Onasi, Bao-Dur, Exile] Brilliant! sniffles I know! passes tissues We'll always have fanfic? Well, they won the Mandalorian Wars, yeah. But they managed to destroy most of the uncorrupted Navy while they were at it, and what they did probably helped break the Jedi Order, even more than what Revan did. ...then again, that's what Revan wanted. Revan knew what he wanted? Cheek! melts - The Imperial Ewok -----signature----- A/T = OTP :===8[#]8===: Kyp/Jaina fans: stand up and be counted!
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Quiet_Mandalorian Registered: Apr '05	Date Posted: 2/25/06 7:08am Subject: RE: Acid Etched [Bao-Dur/Exile, ISSR]
	Thrawn McEwok posted: melts Sorry, Thrawn. -----signature----- Fey'la was right! Bring Asyr Sei'lar to justice!
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Elena Registered: Aug '03	Date Posted: 3/1/06 8:55pm Subject: RE: Acid Etched [Bao-Dur/Exile, ISSR] - Date Edited: 3/2/06 3:22pm (1 edits total) Edited By: Elena
	Quiet Mandalorian: Indeed? I hope to play it someday, hopefully before KotOR III is released. confides I like the sequel better than the original. It's got a better feel. Well, it seemed a rather appropriate metaphor. Oh, no, I'm not complaining... Does this mean you'll be changing your title to "The Mandalorian's Hand"? No, but it does mean I've added a little something for you in my sig. bar... And I, in turn, am glad you wrote it. blushes catches her in mid-swoon looks up at him Ooh...You're a keeper. Art Of War: Wow.... Quite possibly the best interplay between the Exile and Bao-Dur yet to be seen on the boards. Keep up the good work. grins happily Thanks! Thrawn: From a certain point of view? That's what you say when you have nothing else to say... So did Han and Leia... hrm, hang on - Han and Luke?! Well, hopefully Han and Luke are not engaging in a romantic relationship... This is Star Wars? laughs Point taken. And what does it say? It says...it says...it says I should stop eating so many Saltines. It's not good for me. Oh, and it has an idea for a [Bastila, Yuthura]... Well, LFL, DelRey and all the profic authors lost track of the fact that Jaina and Jag fought together for the better half of a year between DT:R and BP... Y'know, I read a pretty good fanfic about that missing time on ff.n at few years ago... I want to take that image and frame it!! offers picture Brilliant! I know...modest passes tissues We'll always have fanfic? smiles damply That's true... blows nose Revan knew what he wanted? Er...maybe? Kinda? Sorta? He wanted the Mandalorians to be gone and the Republic to suffer an extreme blow to the infrastructure... Easier for him to snap it up, y'see. " " Now, now, don't get jealous... Elena -----signature----- Pretty, practical, and the Ewok's Hand: Redheaded teenaged girls make the best assassins Always willing to do a side-job for Quiet_Mandalorian, though And Kreia...well, Kreia was a woman who tried to be a Jedi, then tried to be a Sith, and failed at both
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Quiet_Mandalorian Registered: Apr '05	Date Posted: 3/2/06 6:57am Subject: RE: Acid Etched [Bao-Dur/Exile, ISSR] - Date Edited: 3/2/06 12:52pm (1 edits total) Edited By: Quiet_Mandalorian
	Elena posted: confides I like the sequel better than the original. It's got a better feel. That's interesting to hear you say that. I'm going to look forward to trying it out, when the opportunity arises. Elena posted: Oh, no, I'm not complaining... Didn't think you were, but I can be rather reticent about such things. Elena posted: No, but it does mean I've added a little something for you in my sig. bar... reads it I'll let you know if I have any assignments. Elena posted: blushes Elena posted: looks up at him Ooh...You're a keeper. is flattered Elena posted: That's what you say when you have nothing else to say... Exactly. Elena posted: Oh, and it has an idea for a [Bastila, Yuthura]... Vaabi gar copaani bah miit'gaanar Bastila bal Yuthura, ra Bastila ti Yuthura? Elena posted: Now, now, don't get jealous... Don't mind him, young lady. He's simply reverting to attempts at alpa-male dominance displays. I'll see if I can get you a review for the Canderous vignette in Falsities later on today, or perhaps tomorrow. -----signature----- Fey'la was right! Bring Asyr Sei'lar to justice!
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