Cast My Soul to Sea (JA fanfic/AU by Sharon Nuttycombe)

What about Shmi Skywalker in a slave bikini? The older the berry...

 

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!

If fear leads to the Dark Side, I am now the ultimate Sith power in the universe. Thanks alot, Darth Dimento.

 

Shmi Skywalker?

THAT'S JUST PLAIN DISGUSTING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Hold on.


Must...get....to....bathroom...in.......time

 

Why doesn't one of you take Carrie's metal-bikini wearing body and paste Natalie's face on it? It's the best of both worlds!

 

Someone did that on the last version of this thread.

 

Yeah, someone did that. It was a good picture, too. I almost didn't recognize it as Natalie Portman's face.

Too bad that one was closed long ago. It's too bad, too, that thread was one of the reasons that I registered here. By the time that I did, it was closed.

 

Leia is my #1 'slave-girl'; Padme is my #1 'hand(!)maiden'. Jabba is my #1 Fashion-designer.

 

...uh...on 2nd thought, Leia WAS my #1 slave-girl.....um....I think; oh dear, decisions, decisions......

 

I just thought that I'd bring this great thread back from the recesses of Page 8. As SoTS would say "Uppers"

 

I would say Natalie, but I just saw a nice picture of 19 year old Carrie Fisher sitting on a couch with Harrison Ford in my Ford biography book I'm reading now. She looked so nice that for a second I didn't recognize her. She's gotta be one of the best looking actresses I've ever seen.

I gotta go with Carrie. Natalie looks kinda young and lost sometimes.

 

Since I've seen Natalie Portman topless, I've come to like her a little bit more than I used to.

I still have to with Carrie Fisher though. No one beats Leia!

 

I saw those pics- very nice...

 

In my opinion you all need to be cooled off by a fire hose.

 

There's no doubt that Natalie is a very good actress. She is a prodigy. Carrie Fisher at 18 years old though, was much better looking than Natalie is now. Natalie is going to be smoking hot in a few more years. Her body needs to fill out.

 

That Natalie/Carrie combo pic is different than the original (I have a photographic memory). In the original, Natalie's face was in the same position as Carrie's. In this one, her face is staring right at the camera. Just thought that I'd inform you.

But, still, a very, very good pic.

 

Hello all! another great peice by Sharon. This story made me cry(tear of joy or tears of sadness you will have to find out). I know many of you have read the story but please don't tell the ending to avoid spoiling people. Feed back as always is appreciated by the author.


Kim B


The boy was familiar. About 17 or a little older perhaps.
Long light brown hair, caught up in a pony tail. Not
overly tall, not overly stocky... He was dressed in
unrelieved black from head to toe - black boots, black
trousers, black shirt. His eyes were blue-grey...

...and cold. Cold as the ice they resembled.

Qui-Gon shivered. The feeling of familiarity persisted
though. He *knew* this boy. If he could just focus, he
would remember...

Unfortunately, focusing was beyond difficult just now. He
was in too much pain. He couldn't concentrate, could barely
see. It was taking all his powers just to remain
conscious.

They had shot him not once, but twice, in the leg. The
same leg. In almost the same spot. The twin blaster bolts
had caused untold damage to nerves and muscles and were
sending a tidal wave of agony rolling over him with every
movement. The wound could be healed - probably - if he
could reach those equipped to deal with such an injury.
But he was a long way from Coruscant -- and a long way from
safety.

Nevertheless, he was a Jedi Master. Under normal
circumstances he would have been able to focus the Force,
to deal with the pain and find a way to escape...but the
binders around his wrists that crackled and hummed and sent
random bursts of electricity arcing through his body,
combined with the drugs they had pumped into him...no, he
couldn't reach the Force, couldn't move, could barely
think. Somebody had obviously told these raiders how to
capture and hold a Jedi, in frightening detail...

He had been sent to the Acarian sector by the Jedi Council,
to help track down and deal with space pirates - raiders
that had spent years pillaging and plundering this part of
space. Actually, he had volunteered. Qui-Gon hadn't
admitted that he had been motivated in part by guilt, but
the Council had known. And they had said nothing.

There was nothing to say. Vayrann and the others were dead
and it was his fault. Much as he would like to, he could
not turn back time and change the past.

Four years. Qui-Gon's pain-wracked mind wandered back,
seeking an escape from the agonizing present. Four years
ago. He had still been smarting from Xanatos' betrayal,
even though more than enough time had passed for Qui-Gon to
put that betrayal behind him. But he hadn't, hadn't even
tried. He had allowed himself to dwell in the past and in
the hurt. He had refused to take another Apprentice
despite the best efforts of Yoda and the others.

Four years. He had been ordered to Bandomeer. He had
suspected a scheme on the part of the Council to push him
into accepting that young boy...Kenobi...as his Apprentice.
But he would not be pushed. He had found another, more
urgent mission elsewhere and the Council had agreed to it,
reluctantly. Qui-Gon never went to Bandomeer. Jedi Knight
Vayrann had gone in his place.

And died in his place.

Raiders had attacked the transport ship, killing everyone
on board. The passengers and crew, the boy, Vayrann... And
it was Qui-Gon's fault.

No-one blamed him, he knew. There was quite probably
nothing he could have done; if he had been there he would
have died too, or so the other Jedi had told him, over and
over. No, nobody blamed Qui-Gon. Except himself.

He had evaded his responsibilities. Had taken the easy
path out of selfish motives. And he had to live with the
consequences. Qui-Gon had never been able to ignore the
feeling that he was *meant* to be on that ship, to die with
the others if necessary, or to somehow save them. The
Force had laid out a path for him and he had refused to
walk down it...

Qui-Gon shook his head slightly, wincing as the pain
redoubled. Why was it all coming back to him so clearly
now? Something inside him answered his own question -
because the

 

ccccccccooooooooooooooolllllll!

 

Oh, my. Not this one. This one is...is... so incredible.
I already feel my heart thumping knowing what's to come.
Get ready for an emotional rollercoaster ride of the greatest magnitude.
Been here before but like any great thrill I have to ride again.

 

Yeah, her stories are being posted, I love her's so much, just like many others on this forum. I don't know if I should continue reading this again, but I think I can handle all of the emotions that arise from this story. Post more! More! More! More! tongue.gif

 

I am sorry for the late post, I would like to blame it on my health. I am down with the flu here is the next part and get your hanki's and tissues ready for the later parts(this story is four parts).


By the way each part has a title and part one was.......
Part 1: When the Dark Wood Fell Before Me


Now here is the next part 2

When the Dawn Seemed Forever Lost

Darkness rose up before Qui-Gon - too powerful, too strong
to stand against. The last of his mental shields crumbled
and vanished...

...And then nothing. The darkness seemed to hesitate for a
moment then it pulled back, coiling into the shadows,
watchful and waiting.

Shaken, the Jedi opened his eyes slowly...and met Kenobi's
pale gaze. For a long moment the boy stared back at him,
unblinking, then Kenobi was turning away, running an
unsteady hand across his forehead. "It's no use," he said
to Shevann, his voice shaking just a little. "He's too
strong. "I can't get past his shields."

Qui-Gon kept his face carefully expressionless, not
allowing the surprise that was going through him to show.
His shields were gone. Completely eradicated. The boy's
power, combined with the drugs and the pain he was
experiencing had left Qui-Gon completely vulnerable. All
of his secrets had been there for the taking. So why had
Kenobi pulled back? What had stopped him? He shot another
quick glance at Kenobi before Shevann moved across his line
of vision. Qui-Gon hastily averted his eyes and stared
impassively at the raider. At least, he hoped it was
impassively...it was hard to be stoic when one's leg felt
like it was on fire.

"You've disappointed me, Obi-Wan," Shevann said quietly,
not looking away from Qui-Gon. Behind the raider, Kenobi
stirred slightly but did not respond. Shevann sighed then
continued. "Still, it doesn't really matter. It just
means we'll have to do this the old-fashioned way. It will
take longer. That's all." Then he smiled. It was a
predator's smile.

A tremor went through Qui-Gon. He could guess what the
'old-fashioned way' was. And he was suddenly convinced
that Shevann's smiling was a bad thing.

He was right.

Pain. Too much pain for one man to bear. Too much to
still remain sane. And yet he had no choice. There was
nothing else he could do except bear it. And wait.

And hope.

Hoping was the most difficult. Despair licked at the edges
of Qui-Gon's soul like black fire, and even the Jedi code
he had been repeating to himself like a mantra ever since
Shevann's men had started, did not help.

Nothing helped.

In the end though, they left him alone. Alone in the dark.
Alone with the pain. Qui-Gon sagged in his bonds, striving
to clear his mind, to centre himself, and focus on the
Force. To *not* think. To not remember...

Time passed. Or perhaps he had lapsed into
unconsciousness. Whichever it was, Qui-Gon became aware of
his surroundings again with a start. A light draught of
air touched his skin and he licked dry lips. With a groan
he straightened, easing some of the weight from his wrists
and shoulders and clenching his teeth as the blood began to
flow sluggishly through his arms again.

The heavy door to the cell was swinging open. A brief,
wild surge of fear shot through Qui-Gon, but he banished it
instantly. Whatever was to come, he would face it -
without fear, without hatred. He was a Jedi. They could
kill him, but they couldn't change that. They could never
change that. He was calm again by the time the door
opened.

Obi-Wan Kenobi stepped through then turned and quickly shut
it behind him. He paused, studying the chained man before
him, then he shook his head and frowned. "What is it with
you Jedi, anyway?" he asked tersely. "They torture you
and...and you don't seem to care. Anyone else would have
given in hours ago. Why won't you just tell them what they
want to know?" Something almost like anger flickered
through his voice and his fists clenched.

The Jedi blinked, wondering at the boy's emotional
outburst. But his words were carefully composed when he
replied even though his v

 

Okay this is like the most depressing story I have EVER read about Obi-Wan. Soooo sad.


BEWARE it is VERY

*sniff*

 

I've read this somewhere before...

I can't remember if I finished reading it, but I know I cried though some, though I can't remember which part...

THAT'S IT, now I have to read it again!

POST MORE!

 

Yup, this is the story I read before. In case you didn't notice the warnings from all the other people who posted, this is a SAD story. But good.

 

I feel so horrible(I have the flu)

But you would be happy to know I will be posting the all parts tonight! everyone get your hanki's now !! This story will make you cry.

Kim B

 

Part 3


Part 3: When the Dark Night Seems Endless

The distant orange sun was setting as Qui-Gon and Kenobi
left the raider's stronghold. The sun's rays set the mist
rolling in from the sea on fire and lit the sky with
strands of gold. Nearby, waves crashed against the rocks
while seabirds screamed overhead. The air was cold and
sharp, and filled with the smell of the sea.

"So this is what freedom smells like," Qui-Gon thought
vaguely. Actually, it was difficult to form any coherent
thought patterns at all. The journey up from the bowels of
the stronghold, keeping to the shadows and striving to be
silent, had been difficult. Beyond difficult. Several
times he had wondered if he would make it, despite Kenobi's
help, but he had not given up. He could not. As a Jedi,
he didn't know how to surrender. Nevertheless, without the
boy he could not have completed the journey, no matter how
much strength of will he had.

The pain in his leg had worsened, if anything, and the
effects of the raiders' torture had left him alarmingly
weak. Still, now that he was outside -- Qui-Gon
straightened a little, easing some of his weight from the
boy's shoulders, and drew in a deep breath, savouring the
cool air that was free of the stench of evil that had
marked the raider's stronghold. The Living Force flowed
around him like the seabreeze and he could sense a myriad
of lifeforms nearby -- fish swimming through the darkness
below, birds sailing on the wind up above, tiny lifeforms
living in between the damp crevices of the slippery
rocks... Power began to sing through him and he hastily
reached out for it, welcoming it, making it his own. When
it recognized and answered him, he diverted it to his
injuries, or at least to those hurts where it could do the
most good. The damage to his leg was simply too severe.
It was beyond whatever self-healing skills he possessed.
Nevertheless, it was with a clearer head and much more
confidence that he stepped away from Kenobi's support,
balancing on one leg against the wind sweeping in from the
ocean.

There was a muffled sound beside him. Qui-Gon turned his
head. Kenobi was staring at him, an odd expression on his
face. "I can sense what you're doing," he said bitterly.
"But I can't do it. I don't know how."

Qui-Gon met the accusing gaze unflinchingly. "You never
learned. It's difficult. It's only taught to Padawans
after they achieve a certain level of control."

Kenobi blinked then turned back to the sea, laughing
sharply, a quick burst of noise that did nothing to hide
the pain underneath it. "I don't know why I expected
sympathy from you," he said, almost to himself. "I should
have known better."

"Would sympathy change anything?"

The laughter died away. "No. I suppose not." Kenobi
hunched his shoulders against the wind then shot the man a
quick glance. "Come on. The ship is this way." Without
waiting for an answer, he reached out and took Qui-Gon's
arm, helping him manoeuvre across the slippery rocks.
Together they moved along the shore as the last rays of the
sun dipped below the sea.

Twin moons had risen quickly and were lighting their path
when Qui-Gon and the boy eventually came to a halt. There
had been no pursuit -- their escape must still be
unnoticed, although how long their luck would hold remained
to be seen. Qui-Gon stopped, drawing in a few quick
breaths, then stared at the means of their escape, bemused.
Whatever kind of a ship he had expected, it certainly
wasn't this. It was a small sailing boat, built for
crossing oceans, not the stars. He turned to Kenobi,
frowning.

As if reading his thoughts, Kenobi smiled mockingly.
"Don't worry, Jedi," he said, reaching down to untie the
rope that led to the boat's prow, "this isn't some
intricate trap. This really is the way out."

Qui-Gon took a few limping steps away from him and eased
himself down to a nearby rock, clenching his teeth against
the pain. "I need to leave the planet, not sail to the
next island."

Kenobi nodded. "Sure. But the way off the planet is *on*
the next island."

"I don't