Saga Soldier Side (vignette - Ani/OC - ROTS through a lone Jedi's eyes)

This is a dark recounting of the moment between Anakin entering the Temple, and Anakin entering the younglings' room, by a nameless Jedi. This is, i think, the first non-humor story I've posted on these boards. You can thank Serj and co. for this one. That and caffine, but that's a given.

Author: Me
Timeframe: midway through ROTS
Characters: Ani, a Jedi, Mace Windu
Genre: Vignette

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Soldier Side


The day had been cold.
Days are rarely cold on Coruscant. But the day had been cold.

The day had been orange.
The sunset had seared the sky. Burned the clouds. Lit the skyline in an anxious flame.

We knew.
Like knowing a storm is coming. We knew. The thunderhead growing before our eyes, the hammer rising over our heads, the shadow landing upon us. We knew but we didn't. All we knew was to watch, frozen in fear and horrified anticipation as the blasphemy approached from some unseen place. And what aught we do? We can do nothing yet. Only watch. And there, look: the blasphemy comes, draped in the blackest black. It comes to bid us farewell and move on. It comes to erase. It is the rising tide. Oil on an ocean. Spreading. We only watch.

The tide floods the temple. The oil spreads to the four corners of every room. Every single room. I see. I run.

I run and I run to the most important room. Too many only watch, frozen with their fear and their horror. Broken before they are even touched. But I cannot. Some few cannot, either. I run to the most important room in the temple, on the planet, in the galaxy. I run to the room with the children. I know where the storm is going; I can see it happening. I see its course, the direction of the flames. I run and the fire starts, the lights die, the sounds die, and it is quiet.

Then it is loud. The frozen scream. The frozen cry and writhe behind and about me. The fire intensifies. The fire speeds past and around me. Blue fire. It chases me. It chases us. The oil leads the shadow. It leads with yellow eyes that see but do not see. Bright, dead eyes.

I turn and I see them, the eyes, within the shadow of Its face under hood of the tide. I see them and I see that I?m going to die. I see them. Rings of flame surrounding deep voids. Twin eclipses. The Force has turned its back on us. The twin eclipses are all we have. The suns of a sun clothed in black ? to mourn us.

I reach the door; I slam against it. I hear them inside. I feel them there, in the most important room. I feel the future. It is fragile, and its tether is melting. I must defend them.

I turn and face the oil. I turn and face the tide. I turn and face the eyes. Its head lowers; the mourning eyes show regret, but no sympathy. I know I am going to die. I take up my weapon.

I banish It. I curse It. I face It and ignite their tether. My weapon against dispair. I strike and It moves and I strike and It moves and I strike and It ignites Its red hate and I back off. I know what the storm wants and I will not allow It to have it. I know what the oil seeks and I defend it.

I stand my ground and It stands Its ground and we wait and we wait. I stand my ground, but It does nothing. I stand atop my grave and wait. The rest of the tide does not interfere, but runs and flows about us, blue fire searching and killing everything I?ve known, everything I?ve loved, every memory, every moment of my past, every care I?ve ever had. The twin suns mourn me. Then they lunge. Emotionlessly, they lunge.

I dive. I block. I roll. I turn. I lunge myself. Straight into the beast of black nothing, of annihilation, of Void. It will wipe us away, make them forget, take away our present and take away our future. I lunge. Straight into the yellow eyes. I lunge.

It moves. It strikes. I spin and try to defend myself, I want to defend myself, I must defend myself, I must defend myself, I try. With all my might, and all my will, and all the Force I know and have and embrace, and all of m

 

well done.

 

Thank you, Fist[/i]. I appreciate the response.

 

I run to the most important room in the temple, on the planet, in the galaxy. I run to the room with the children.


this is good, you can feel the jedi's desperation for the younglings, and the dispair in knowing that he/she failed , and that their future was lost.
I liked the scene with master windu, I never understood how such a powerful jedi could go so quickly

 

**we interrupt our regularly scheduled broadcast for oqidaun to pick her jaw up off the floor**




**color blocky test screen goes up**

That was incredible. I've always been floored by your humor, but now with the serious prose--I'm wide eyed and wanting for words. This was absolutely brilliant!

The day had been cold.
Days are rarely cold on Coruscant. But the day had been cold.

The day had been orange.
The sunset had seared the sky. Burned the clouds. Lit the skyline in an anxious flame.

I'm a sucker for powerful openers, but I don't see how this one can be beat. Lyrical, haunting and it has that simplistic edge to it that people use when they've been pushed into corners.

oil
I loved your use of this imagery. Is it the darkside, is it Anakin--it's seeping in...

The most important room.
Wow.

This review most likely makes little sense, but you knocked me on my butt with this vignette.

 

OoooooOOOOoooo! Responseses. And here's what I have to say to you people:

Michaellover: I'm glad you liked it. And yes, it was unfortunate that Mace's life was cut short. But, fast or slow, we all go. 'Tis life...ironically.

Oqi: **color blocky test screen goes up**
Hey, you're fixing the reception this time. Last time, I was on the roof for three hours and all we ended up with was "Howdy Doody" coupled the sound of someone announcing the 1976 Superbowl.

That you like my tragedies as much as you like my comedies is a compliment of epic proportions coming from you, the author of 'Burn". As for the opening, I very much agree that the beginning of any given story needs to be powerful. Coincidentally, I also happen like my opening, now that I've reread what the hell I wrote last night.

Healer Lee: It would be quite a dispairing situation to be in. As for the "It" thing, I wanted a sense that, while this is clearly Anakin doing this - anyone who watched ep3 knows that - this is also something more than Anakin. And this poor unfortunate Jedi sees and understands this, and interprets it in his/her own way. Sorta. I think.


Anyway, the point is, I bounce around between wild, insane comedy and dark, serious drama quite often. Like some sort of literary bipolar disorder. It just so happened that this time, for whatever reason, my dark half manifested itself in the GFFA. I promise it won't happen again. [/fingers crossed]

 

Oh wow -- beautiful, stunning prose! Excellent job!

 

Very good job!

 

Idrelle: Thanks! I can now say I've been responded to by one of the mysterious, elusive Betagirls!!

Lil' Miss J: Why thank you. And while i do agree that this was "good" and quite "very", this sort of thing is, sadly, not my "job."
Maybe one day, but not this one.

 

Yodimus, you're amazing.

You write such consistently brilliantly funny humor, and then you write this...a stunning, dark, chilling piece.

The imagery is incredible, especially the twin suns.

Fantastic work!

 

Yes, well, like I said - I can be very bipolar about the genre I'm writing in. As in, I have a dark half and an insane half, and they don't compare notes. One day it's full out comedy, the next it's dark and serious. There never seems to be a middle ground. Hence my literary switchery.
This just happens to be the first time my dark half manifested in a Long Time Ago land.
But now that's it's free...who know's

 

I'm not finished with this...
I should be but I'm not. I keep pulling it up in word. I keep adding to it.
I think I might make it a series of vigs. Not just one lone Jedi, but many lone Jedi. I just can't seem to let it go to just leave it as a one-poster.
I should but I can't.

We'll see what happens. I won't start adding to it until I have several in a queve.
We'll see.

 

Good work here, Yodimus. I am impressed with your abstract interpretation of Anakin's raid on the Jedi Temple. The description of Anakin as oil flowing throw the temple is brilliant. Here are some the specific sections that stood out to me:

I turn and I see them, the eyes, within the shadow of Its face under hood of the tide. I see them and I see that I?m going to die. I see them. Rings of flame surrounding deep voids.

The description of Anakin's eyes is chilling. Its like a floating oil with vibrant evil eyes. Excellent.

I stand atop my grave and wait.

Keen insight...

The twin suns mourn me. Then they lunge. Emotionlessly, they lunge.

The idea of Anakin mourning his victims as he kills them is a new one on me, but you explain it well in the quote below. Apathy.

The cold oil floods over me. The tide spreads. The twin suns move on, to passionlessly mourn others, to look upon the future and silence it. To bathe the world in apathy.

Anakin wants the Galaxy to be as dead inside as he is. This is incredible writing.

I am met by Master Windu, and he grabs me and looks at me with pity and with sympathy and with love and guilt. And he embraces me and we cry.

I like this ending, too. Poor Mace feels guilty that he could not see it coming or prevent the destruction of the Jedi. I smiled sadly as the Jedi faded into the Force. Again, well written.

 

The idea of Anakin mourning his victims as he kills them is a new one on me, but you explain it well in the quote below. Apathy.
Anakin wants the Galaxy to be as dead inside as he is.
- That's pretty much spot on. When I first put the words on paper, it was partially a stream-of-consiousness thing, and I really wasn't sure at the time how I was supposed to convince the reader that his act of mourning was not something he did out of compasion. But I let the song guide me, and it apparently worked out. That's why this has the title it has. The entire piece was written under the ebb and flow of System's Soldier Side. I doubt I would have pulled it off any other way.

Thanks for the review, Brew!

 

Wow! Beautifully done! I'd say more, but I'm exhausted! Anyway, BRAVO!

 

Whoa, I miss you by three minutes, and almost don't catch your review at all
Thanks, V Luv! No need to say more. That was quite good enough. beautifully done - really? well, I can accept I'm that good maybe, but Bravo?! In ALL CAPS? Holy- I don't know if I deserve that..
Again, thanks

 

I'm running awfully late for work but I saw your viggie and thought I'd pop in for a quick laugh.

I was much moer impressed with what I found. Fantastic work. I wish I had more time to give you a nice proper response, but I don't. So...here's what struck me most.

?Welcome.?
He whispers, and fades.
And all the children,
Our dead future,
Surround me.
And we
Fade.

I love this because it's poetic, it's beautiful (in a physcial sense, the triangle formed by the words) and it made me kinda sad. Now that's writing!

BRILLIANT!!

 

"What is that?"
"I've invented a device wherein you read a story or topic, and then you use this little message box underneath to type your response. And then they may choose to react in the same manner to what you have written, thus creating a thread of topically linked messages."
"BRILLIANT! What's it called?"
"I call it a 'message board' "
"BRILLIANT!"
"BRILLIANT!"
(I couldn't help myself)


I'm running awfully late for work but I saw your viggie and thought I'd pop in for a quick laugh.
What? It cracked me up the whole way through
The great thing about pigeonholes, is that they give you a chance to be surprising in ways versatility just can't equal.

There was always something about losing a soul from a story that hit harder for me than losing a physical character. So I went into it knowing the character had to die twice if I wanted to draw an emotional response from myself - The vig could only end when the spirit left, the body wasn't enough. I'm glad to hear it worked!
(Jeez, if i'd known a whole crapload of people were gonna suddenly start responding to this after so long, I would have held off and caught you all in one shot. Oh well)

 

You, Yodimus, are the master of artful... minimalism.

You used such short, choppy words, coupled with that fantastic fading triangle, to express something with a massive punch that wordiness couldn't supply.

To me, that vignette was a modernist art painting--colors, with a sure meaning, with the feeling supplied by the reader.

And it was a heavy, dark, cold feeling.

Fantastic vignette, good sir. *pushes a Hostess cupcake your way, as we know how much you like the manufactured loopy frosting ring*

 

Hooray for autoaligned sugar acessory product in white code #h571 food coloring!!! They should put it on all their baked-good-simulations
And it was a heavy, dark, cold feeling.
Oops. *offers blanket* I should add a disclaimer or something.

Likening it to a painting, ooo! Very Thrawn of you.
Thanks, Luna!