Beyond - Legends "Emperor Fel... Walks Into A Bar?!" [Roan Fel, Antares Draco, 130 ABY - SHOCK UPDATE, 25 July!!]

Disclaimer: Star Wars, the Galaxy far, far away, and probably most of the intergalactic void, all belong to George Lucas. This is just one fan's critical and artistic response to the and mythos of the saga, a commentary on the themes, ideas and situations involved.

To be specific, it's a light-hearted little Star Wars: Legacy piece, inspired by this comment in the 'fic discussion on the "Lit." board:

The shape of the response was clear to me in a flash.

After an hour's (somewhat distracted) writing, I'm not sure I quite succeeded. My talents as a storyteller maybe aren't quite enough to do this justice. But if I failed, I hope the audience may nevertheless get some enjoyment from the faint... silliness involved?

And remember, we're all in the gutter... but some of us are looking at the sea of stars...

---

"Master? Where are we going?"

It was the third time that Roan Fel had heard the question since he and his apprentice had left the Palace. This time, he decided, he would deign it with an answer.

He opened his mouth to speak. And closed it again, almost immediately.

No, no need to talk. Sometimes, actions spoke louder.

They were walking down the ground-level gap between two of Galactic City's uptowm skyscrapers - a deserted street flanked by bare metal walls, at the bottom of a mile-deep chasm.

High overhead, a shimmering glimmer hinted at stars, or simply airspeeder traffic.

Down here, the light pooled around the streetlamps above the sidewalks, contrasting with the dark gleam of damp puddles in the centre of the uneven roadway.

The two cloaked figures, Master and Apprentice, Emperor and Knight, kept to the centre of the road; to the shadows.

Up ahead on the right, an incongruous blaze of lights interrupted the blank metal architecture. A three-story-high section of one wall had been replaced by an expanse of transparent plating, fronted by two burly guards in an unintended parody of businessmens' robes. A small queue of scantily-clad near-human girls completed the picture.

A flashing sign on the wall alongside announced [i]Club Obi-Wan[/i]. Once he'd deciphered the name, it didn't take Roan Fel long to understand the flashing curves and lines around the words: an animated picture of a Jedi Knight, holding a long lightsaber at waist-height, and thrusting it suggestively back and forth.

Behind him, Antares Draco's footsteps sloshed in the puddle. The boy's anxiety started to burn in the Force again.

It was time.

The Emperor of the Galaxy turned a sharp right, and led the way into the bar.

The Twi'lek girls pouted in offence, and the burly guards stepped forward to block his path: but Roan Fel raised one hand, pre-empting their question.

"You don't need to see his identification."

The guards stepped back obediently on either side, and Roan Fel walked in through the sliding doors.

A glance over his shoulder told him that Antares was following--more or less. His Apprentice had paused for a moment on the threshold, eyes wide and head raised, gazing into the riot of colour, light and movement that filled the square-walled metal cavern inside.

The Emperor didn't spare his Apprentice more than a glance, however. If the fool wanted to get killed, then that was his problem. But after a moment, Antares snapped out of his shock, and hurried to follow him deeper through the crowd.

[i]Who's more foolish...?[/i] Fel thought to himself, heading towards the bar - expression grim, eyes fixed on the target ahead of him, relying on peripheral awareness and the Force to detect flanking dangers.

Behind the bar, the server turned to face them:

 

PMSL! OMG! That was so freaking great! LOVED IT! I think I'm gonna go and read it again. Love the name of the club and the sign. Brilliant!!!!!!!

 

I like it.

I don't know enough about Roan Fel to say if you pulled off what you wanted to do or not, but, I enjoyed it.

 

Reminds me of a Tales comic where Han Solo plays a sabacc game and there's a fight. Can you put him in a fight?

Love it!

 

You're a maniac, McEwok, but no one can say you're not a creative one.

A flashing sign on the wall alongside announced Club Obi-Wan. Once he'd deciphered the name, it didn't take Roan Fel long to understand the flashing curves and lines around the words: an animated picture of a Jedi Knight, holding a long lightsaber at waist-height, and thrusting it suggestively back and forth.

Somewhere in the Force, Obi-Wan is cringing. Or gloating that it's not Club Anakin. One or the other.

Antares Draco, meanwhile, looked at him like he'd gone mad.

For once, Roan Fel had to work very hard to hide his smile.

This, once again, was where the fun began.

Poor Antares.

Beautifully done, you crazy Ewok, you.

 

I like it. A lot.

I like how he was specifically gauging everyone's reaction to the Emperor/Empire and whether they approved or not. Was that deliberate, or just coincidental?

 

I read too fast, how could I have missed this.
A flashing sign on the wall alongside announced Club Obi-Wan. Once he'd deciphered the name, it didn't take Roan Fel long to understand the flashing curves and lines around the words: an animated picture of a Jedi Knight, holding a long lightsaber at waist-height, and thrusting it suggestively back and forth.
Obi-Wan mate, you can swing your lightsaber in my living room (or bedroom) any time you like.

And isn't Club Obi-Wan in Temple of Doom?

 

Aw, I inspired you to write a viggy...

Roan's da man. It's always nice to see what inspires characters to do something.

Just a matter of note, since my comment inspired this fiction, I'm not sure Roan is down with the jiggy, or at least how I meant it in the Lit discussion thread. At the very least he'd have to be a lot more jiggy to keep up with me and the gang during a night out at the bar. Still it's always a pleasure to see Roan popping up in fanfic.

 

Thank you. I'm glad you enjoyed it.

...

Well, that has to count for something, right?

Thanks...

And, yes, the plan is for Roan to get into a fight.

It would be an interesting conversation-piece, for sure...

This is set back in 130 ABY, so I don't think Draco's out of his teens yet. And Roan's just a grumpy old man.

Is that the same as funny pretty stuff?

Thanks for the reply!

Why am I a maniac?

But thanks, I guess...

I'm sure he's pretending to do the former, while really doing the latter.

Hey, it's training for the kid!

That was the whole purpose of hitting the bars. That, and having arguments/bar-fights about it.

It's based on something that Napoleon and his aide-de-camp General Duroc used to do together in the early years of his power.

*ahem*

But yeah, that one was for the ladies.

Yes, indeed.

I was hoping someone would get that.

Hey, did I say the 'fic was finished yet?

As I said to Katana (and insinuated to Spike), there's a bar-fight yet to come. And somewhere in the middle of that, Roan Fel has to get down with the jiggy....

So, I'm reckoning it'll be a three-parter.

- The Imperial Ewok

 

No, you didn't. I just didn't realize I inspired you so much, for three posts even! *faints* I'm practically a Muse . Now if someday I could get someone to write a whole story for me...

Yeah, sorry. I'm such an airbrain sometimes that insinuations go right on by me. But wow, a bar fight - that's downright ornery, but I like ornery Fels.

I soooo very much can't wait for the jiggy part!

 

Smells like success to me, McEwok.

Then again, that might just be you.

Loved it!

 

Does this mean we're friends again?!



How does an emotionally complex, full-length Kyp/Jaina 'fic sound?

I'm not quite sure I can do your expectations justice, but I'll give it my best effort!

*Roan Fel leans over on the dance-floor, and shakes his ass in your general direction*

Is that the jiggy part you wanted?

I think they're at the age when Roan's starting to realise that Antares is intruding on his hawtness... and his daughter!

I didn't need to know that. Let me know if you can remember what it was you said?

Success smells like whisky and cigars?

Wait, no, that makes sense!

*victory dance*

Thanks, Vc!

- The Imperial Ewok

 

LOL! Not even close

Jiggy requires retaining the cool element so the ladies are still impressed. Think Will Smith...

Bring it.
Woo
Uh, uh, uh, uh
Ha ha, ha ha
What, what, what, what
Ha ha ha ha
Uh

...


Chorus:

(na na na na na na na nana na na na na nana)
Gettin jiggy wit it
(na na na na na na na nana na na na na nana)
Gettin jiggy wit it
(na na na na na na na nana na na na na nana)
Gettin jiggy wit it

~ Gettin Jiggy Wit It, sung by Will Smith

I mean the guy pulled lyrics like that off and he's still cool

Looking forward to seeing where you take this

 

well, I actually have no idea about the comics
have not found them yet over here

"You don't need to see his identification."

Just like Obi-Wan has done

"My name is Tolar Antilles!" he declaimed.

Antilles is a very common surname in the galaxy

For once, Roan Fel had to work very hard to hide his smile.

This, once again, was where the fun began.

Nice little piece

~ Mags ~

 

Yep. Shameless homage.

Thanks! It's also the name of Fel's... great-grandmother? It seemed appropriate?

Glad you liked it.

I always thought he took himself more seriously than his material deserved, but I think I can see your point now, or at least what might work...

I hope.

Well, here goes the second scene... writing very firmly against my ingrained sense of irony: let me know if this gets close to what you were talking about...?

And feel free to be forthright about the failure if you feel the 'fic falls flat on its face!!



- The Imperial Ewok

---

Antares Draco was surprisingly popular with the girls.

On nights like this, Mohrgan had always been a loyal shadow, faithfully standing at his Emperor's shoulder - always following the gameplay of the conversations he liked to provoke, always ready to butt in with words or fists in his support.

But now, while Roan Fel was sticking to the plan - propping up the bar, buying drinks, and picking a fight with a small but solid phalanx of ugly pro-Alliance idiots... his young Apprentice seemed to be [i]improvising[/i].

He was holding forth on the dancefloor, surrounded by a surprising number of admiring females, most of them thankfully close enough to human to avoid any disturbing sense of sexual dissonance.

[i]What do they see in him, though?[/i] the Emperor wondered, his glance lingering on the slim hindquarters of a barely-clad Zeltron girl for just a moment. Sure, Draco was creative and athletic, but his dancefloor improvisations were a little... absurd.

[i]And he needs to learn who's in charge here[/i], he thought, his gaze skimming the ranks of Alliance supporters. [i]Some of these apologies for human beings will never learn, but Antares [/i]needs[i] to. He's an Imperial Knight, not some Jedi errant.[/i]

"Well," Fel said, pushing off the bar, and laying down his latest glass of whisky. He dropped his cloak, wrapped it around his arm, and laid it on the bar stool. "Excuse me while I go and collect my friend." He gritted his teeth as two of the girls started to sandwich Draco in their writhing bodies, and his blue eyes narrowed to splinters of ice. "Before he makes a complete fool of himself."

"Quitting the argument, Imp?" the closest of the Reb sympathisers asked, jabbing a not-quite-human-looking finger towards his chest. But some of his companions were laughing, others grinning. At least Antares was defusing the situation.

[i]Is that even what I want?[/i] he wondered, raising a dry eyebrow at the pugnacious little man in front of him. He didn't want the Empire to look foolish. He wanted to see how far he could push the Rebs.

But for now, he turned away from them, waking towards the mass of living, moving flesh that filled the dancefloor.

Two girls approached, with bright grins and swaying hips, and eyes that flashed to meet his. They obviously knew he'd been buying drinks for half the clientele, and they were probably interested to find out how far his generosity went.

Or maybe, a cautioning voice corrected, they were just here for a good time, for some fun.

It didn't matter. When he saw his Master and Emperor approaching, Antares' face assumed a look of shocked surprise - a rather amusing expression. To his credit, the boy's look showed that he knew that Fel wasn't just there to drag him off the dancefloor - obviously, his instincts weren't

 

First!

The pure incongruousness of this fic makes it hilarious - add to the fact that you manage to keep it in character and... I bow to your skills, McEwok.

I loved Antares's dance-floor foul-ups and Roan's narrow escape from a bar-fight.

Deep thinking, Emperor.

 

Yep. Shameless homage.

Yeah I noticed

Thanks! It's also the name of Fel's... great-grandmother? It seemed appropriate?

I remember something like that ? Wynssa Starflare was an Antilles at some point



Antares Draco was surprisingly popular with the girls.

Why am I not surprised?!

What do they see in him, though? the Emperor wondered, his glance lingering on the slim hindquarters of a barely-clad Zeltron girl for just a moment. Sure, Draco was creative and athletic, but his dancefloor improvisations were a little... absurd.



He recognized the music - something his daughter played in her room.


And she would be shocked to see her father at this moment

It was a far cry from what he was used to, but every dance, whether it was a pavane, or a lightsaber duel, or a meeting of the Moff Council, worked in the same basic way.



And he was a better dancer than Antares Draco, that was for sure.

a challenge then

Then... he began to dance.

go old man show them how it is done


Amusing update

 

I'm not quite sure if I managed as well as I'd have liked... but if it makes you laugh, it does something that should be worthwhile.

Who's to say he's escaped? Who's to say he WANTS to?!

"Don't get cocky, old-timer..."

People were meant to.

Uh-huh.

Well, it's no secret around here that Master Draco is popular with the girls...

She might just smile quietly.

Is he wrong?

He seems to have decided it is, yes.

You're so sure he'll do it?

Glad you had fun!

- The Imperial Ewok

EDIT: synchronicity alert!

Consider the following two comments, which appeared consecutively in this thread:

How many of you got the Independence Day reference in the end of my post? Did TKeira_Lea realise there was already an unambiguous, if oblique, Will Smith reference in there?

Inquiring minds - or at least, Ewok ones - want to know.

The whisky, on the other hand, is Jeff Goldblum's. Watch the contents of the bottle of bourbon in the scenes where they're realising how to destroy the aliens.

That's all for now.

-TMcE