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  1. In Memory of LAJ_FETT: Please share your remembrances and condolences HERE

Beyond - Legends The God of Second Chances (DDC 2015) 12/23/15 (OCs, Solos) Complete (Cover posted 4/24/17)

Discussion in 'Fan Fiction- Before, Saga, and Beyond' started by divapilot, Jan 3, 2015.

  1. Ewok Poet

    Ewok Poet Force Ghost star 6

    Registered:
    Jul 31, 2014
    [30]

    In some way, this is the second "life reset" for both Bree and Blue. He is definitely going to need a less stressful job if he is to get rid of the temptation of addiction as much as it is possible, but sure that Bree does not want to be in the place where she almost died, either!

    Blue's meditation/prayer scene was beautiful. The moment resembling silver lining was a nice touch, to the point where it gave me goosebumps.

    On a darker note, I have always been fascinated by the connection between addicts/recoverees and some form of faith. Sometimes they're fanatically religious during their addiction, claiming that they can see god or whomever, sometimes they're more religious afterwards. Blue strikes me as the latter type.

    “Yes, we do. Ianos has given us another second chance,” he said. “You’re alive, and I’m feeling better.” He sighed despite his positive words, and I squeezed his arm. I knew what he meant. The god of second chances granted our petition, but Ianos is, after all, a trickster god and there is always a dear sacrifice to be paid. - AND WE HAD TO WAIT THIRTY CHAPTERS FOR THE TITLE DROP.

    And wooow, they're meeting halfway, between Barolian beliefs and the Force. This is almost occult-like, but in a good way.

    “So noted. Let me cancel our deposit on that homestead on Tatooine.” I held out my hand to him. “Let’s go, beach boy.” - Clever. ;)

    the scars from the long-ago crash - That makes him even more beautiful, actually. And accepting a scarred drug addict as one's lifemate takes a very, very strong person. It's his body, but also his mind and his demons.

    Bree is one brave, brave girl.

    Life and love are so strangely intertwined. It’s love that makes life worth anything. I’ve been so focused on avoiding attack, on missing my brother, on being hyper-vigilant about our safety – so focused on avoiding death that I think I began to lose focus on living. - So beautifully said.


    [31]

    Ooooo, the Calrissians! Yay! And looks like uncle Lando is still a charmeur at this stage!

    It’s an Eskari, part of a larger installation that was once on display at the Imperial Palace of Coruscant.” - Nice! I thought you were to borrow Simon, but then, boom, there it is, one of Ayesha's sculptures.

    I can see how somebody like Lando would be slightly irritating to Blue - partly because of his flamboyant ways, partly because of his riches and his behaviour. Luckily, Tendra is there to make up fori it.


    [32]

    Whoa, I think Tendra totally saved the day here - despite her own story being quite straightforward and trouble-free compared to Blue's, she knows what it means no longer to be welcome at home [I assume she isn't, she broke the law and married an offworlder!] and, in some way, searching for a new home.

    And I would have picked Naboo, too! Because Naboo.



    [33]

    33 is my number, duality is my thing. And your observations of Ossus are, in some odd way, similar to my fascination with Roon, though nothing alike.

    Dad grunted in reply. He invited Tendra and Lando to stay for a meal, but Lando demurred, saying that they had business to attend to. Blue and I thanked them again for coming to get us. They really went out of their way, and it was appreciated. - Are these two arguing again? Han and Lando?

    I am not good with romantic attachment, but I can see how two people will be like when first separated one from another after such a series of events. However, it's somewhat...unhealthy. They need to find the right measure.


    [34]

    Han makes me feel slightly uneasy more often than not, but in your AU, once again, there is no single bit of him that I cannot love. A typical elderly parent - eating things he is not supposed to eat, not wanting medical treatment and claiming that doctors don't know poodoo.

    At the same time, despite the old age silliness that you have depicted so incredibly well, all of the points he's making are spot-on. People cannot be super-clingy all the time, they need to have bits of their lives that don't intersect. Opposites attract, after all.


    [35]

    Nice depiction of Bastion. I'm a huge fan of the Legacy comics and what I have seen there is a lot like this. The only thing I secretly wished for when I read the name of the planet was that some ancestor of that irresistible Antares Draco pops up...but I'll take it either way.

    “General Solo, Miss Solo, welcome to Bastion. I am Commander Rigby. Her Excellency, Jedi Solo, has requested that we escort you to the palace. She sends her greetings.” - HA. The three faces of Solo.

    Jag’s family was there, too; the baron and his wife, and some of Jag’s siblings. - AKA the skunk-hair people. :p

    Loved the ceremony, despite the eerie observation of Jacen and Ben, and yet another moment where Bree cries for Anakin.



    [36]

    There is something really weird going on here. And I am not sure if sending an old-fashioned letter is a good idea. I have my doubts, but given how vague my knowledge of this era is, I will wait for the next chapter to speak up, or forever keep silent...

    ...and no, I am so NOT marrying chapter 37, GET OUT OF HERE. :p


    All caught up! Yay! Not regretting one single moment of it.
     
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  2. divapilot

    divapilot Force Ghost star 4

    Registered:
    Nov 30, 2005
    Replies September 15



    Thank you for replying! :D Bree switches between being all Solo and all Organa. Right now the Organa part is dominant. She has a chance here to put this whole nightmare behind her, and she has decided it’s worth it to go forward. Han’s advice to her about giving Blue some space comes in to play here, too; if she hadn’t had that conversation with her dad she wouldn’t have had the confidence to leave Blue on his own. She loves her guy, but he’s a grown-up and he can handle himself while she’s away.


    Aw, thank you! It seems a lot of the Alcoholics Anonymous recovery programs encourage alcoholics to put their faith in a higher power, and that makes sense if you think about it. You lift a huge burden off your shoulders when you trust that a higher power is taking care of the big picture. Also, meditation/prayer/mindfulness is a great way to orient and ground oneself so as not to get swept off into chaotic thoughts. Blue has had religion in his life before, but he leans on it more now.


    No, I dropped that title in chapter 5 when he was telling her the story behind his facial tattoos. I wouldn’t string you along like that! :p


    Tendra moderates Lando. He’s very flamboyant and showy but she makes him accessible. I think Blue is just being standoffish, as usual, when he meets new people. He does warm up to them, but it takes Blue time. Bree moderates Blue too; she makes him accessible when he crawls back into himself. I can see Tendra and Bree being dear friends.[:D]



    Naw, It’s just time for Lando to leave the story. Lando and Tendra were doing Han and Leia a favor, but they have to go back now.


    Which is what Han recognizes, too. [face_shame_on_you] They are so clingy at this point that it’s kind of barfy. It is unhealthy, and Han points it out to her.


    Thanks! Han and Bree have a very close and special relationship. Han’s getting a little old and cranky, but not too old to be her dad and tell her the truth that Bree can’t see.[face_love]


    Me too! :D A lot of Zara is inspired by Deliah Blue. And in my headcanon, it’s Jaina who starts the Imperial Guard, with this group of guardsmen right here.


    There is more intrigue that Bree is getting wrapped up in – you know, the stuff that Blue begged her not to get involved in?:rolleyes: Yeah, there she is. Bree will be tested to the brink here, physically, emotionally and mentally. And it’s really a recording, not an old-fashioned letter. She’s just very careful with her words.

    Yay! So happy you are liking this and I hope I continue to do a good job!
    .



     
  3. divapilot

    divapilot Force Ghost star 4

    Registered:
    Nov 30, 2005
    [37]

    Moff Ardon’s trial was, as Jaina said, four days later. The evidence was overwhelming, and when I spoke to the tribunal and to the court, describing to them the damage caused to the individuals on the ship and to me in particular, even Ardon knew that he had lost the case. After a short deliberation the panel of three judges declared him guilty and pronounced his sentence, in accordance with Chiss law.

    It was a strange feeling, seeing the man who tried to kill me, the man who sent Blue into a psychological breakdown, the man who destroyed the promise of my son’s life. The more I saw his smug demeanor, the haughty way his red eyes glared at me as if I were some vile insect that deserved crushing, the angrier I got. How dare he. How dare he decide that my life, our lives, only mattered as tools he could use to secure his own political advancement. My hands trembled with controlled disgust and anger. I was not a helpless victim, to be used up and discarded in some selfish game he played.

    Jag sat in a seat on the tribunal’s stand as his word as emperor would be final, either modifying the verdict and sentence or validating it. He leaned forward on his desk, his hands folded. “As the victim of this crime, Breha Solo, you have the right to comment on the decision of the judges,” he said, speaking with the formality of a courtroom address. “This is a capital trial, and the accused is currently sentenced to death. You may concur with the sentence as meted by this court, or you may advocate for mercy. Your recommendation will be added to the record, then the tribunal will make its final decision.” Jag handed a datapad to a guard to give to me. I took it from the guard and swiped it, to see that it was opened to a court document. “If you advocate for the death penalty, sign the form. If not, leave it blank,” Jag explained.

    I placed the datapad on the table in front of me and paused to collect my thoughts. Then I raised my head and addressed Jag. “May I speak with the accused?”

    Jag glanced at the others on the tribunal, conferring for a moment. He turned back to me. “It’s not common practice, but it is allowable.”

    “Then I wish to speak with Moff Ardon. I wish to approach him.”

    The judges murmured among themselves, then the Chiss high judge gestured for the guard to escort me to the prisoner’s enclosure. As I stood to approach Moff Ardon, I held my head high, projecting the image of the two queens whose names I bore. I wanted Ardon to know who he was dealing with. My stature may be petite and my personality may be feminine, but I am not weak.

    As I approached him, Ardon twitched imperceptibly. Good. I wanted him to be uncomfortable. I was much shorter than he was so I looked up at him, but I held his gaze. “Moff Ardon, are you married? And if so, do you love your spouse?” I asked.

    He looked down at me, obviously surprised at the seemingly irrelevant question. “I have a wife.”

    His lack of elaboration answered the second question. Ardon looked down at me again and I continued. “Imagine you did love her. Think of the anguish of watching her suffer. Of knowing that there is little hope that she will live. That, Ardon, is what you did to my beloved. You made him watch me die a little every hour, even as he struggled to save me.”

    “Do you have children?” I asked. He shook his head. “I was with child once,” I said. “I was going to have a baby – a son. And you took his chance at life away. You made me wake up in a hospital to learn that I had lost my child.”

    “You failed in your plan to kill me,” I said. “I’m still alive. But only because you underestimated how much love my man has for me, how much he was willing to sacrifice to save me. How dearly he loved that baby of his that I carried. He loves me so deeply that he sacrificed everything he had for me. You, however, don’t understand love or sacrifice. You have no connections of love to anyone, and you sacrifice nothing by sending your assassins after me. You were willing to murder an entire ship of innocent people to guarantee my death. And yet you stand here, waiting for my mercy.”

    “I am merciful,” I said quietly. I let the word hang in the space between us, and he stood, unflinching, and waited for me to continue. “But there is no love in your heart. There is no sacrifice in your soul. Your mind, your soul, your heart – they are already dead.” Standing on my toes, I reached up so that I could whisper into his ear. “Here is my mercy: I will let your body join them.”

    His eyes, red as blistering lava, narrowed and his jaw was set. I turned around and returned slowly to the witness enclosure, hoping no one could see me shaking. With one final glance at the man who tried to assassinate me, who tried to murder Blue and everyone else on the Alisander, who caused me to lose my baby, I picked up my stylus and firmly wrote my name in High Galactic on the datapad provided, under the signatures of the judges. Once the computer registered my entry, the two red-armoured guards approached and flanked Moff Ardon. Together, they marched him out of the room to await the tribunal’s final decision. Exactly where they took him, I neither know nor do I care. He was gone.
     
  4. WarmNyota_SweetAyesha

    WarmNyota_SweetAyesha Chosen One star 8

    Registered:
    Aug 31, 2004
    Buya! =D= [face_dancing] [face_dancing] Breha rocks Her eloquence sings! [face_love]
     
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  5. JadeLotus

    JadeLotus Jedi Grand Master star 4

    Registered:
    Mar 27, 2005
    Ack, I seem to have fallen behind.

    35 - loved the family time, and Bree's reflections on them - I laughed at Ben growing a half-metre and being as "smart as a nexxu-tail whip". And of course its heartbreaking for Bree's thoughts to drift to Anakin, but of course Leia senses it and provided the much-needed comfort.

    36 - Ah, well done to Jaina and Jag for figuring out the assassination plot. Poor Bree! It will be so hard for her to testify, but she made the right choice. Her letter was so powerful and heartfelt, it made me tear up - she is one determined lady.

    37 - Wow, I got chills from Bree confronting Ardon - wonderful scene! Even though I personally don't advocate the death penalty, I perfectly understand Bree's reasoning and choice. Hopefully it will help her heal.
     
    Nyota's Heart likes this.
  6. divapilot

    divapilot Force Ghost star 4

    Registered:
    Nov 30, 2005
    Replies September 22


    Breha Amidala Solo is not a woman to be messed with. Moff Ardon assumed that she would be an easy mark, but didn’t count on her surviving to come back for him. Thank you for replying!


    Bree loves her family; they are her bedrock. And although her thoughts do drift to the omission in the family portrait, she doesn’t dwell on it as much as she might have in the past. Leia senses it, acknowledges it, and then they move on.

    Wow – thank you! Bree had to make a tough decision. Her heart wants to go back to Blue, but her Organa sense of duty puts her personal feelings aside and follows through with the testimony. She knows that Jaina wouldn’t have asked her to do such a difficult thing if it wasn’t important. But Bree pulls through.



    I am not a believer in the death penalty either, but this culture reserves it for those who commit treachery. (More on this later in the story). Bree’s reasoning is that he has already lost everything that made him a living man; the loss of his life itself is inevitable. And there is no denying that there is a little hatred and revenge going on – her muggleness means she can dip into this without fear of turning to the dark side.

    Thank you for your thoughtful responses!
     
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  7. divapilot

    divapilot Force Ghost star 4

    Registered:
    Nov 30, 2005
    [38]

    Jaina had told me that I had done my part in the trial of Moff Ardon. My testimony in the trial of the other three conspirators would be helpful, but if I wished I could go back home and she and her team would take it from there. That made me feel like I was leaving the task unfinished, so I told her that I wanted to see this through to the end. That’s why I boarded a small craft early the next morning, headed for Phaeda, where the three accomplices would be soon arrested and brought to trial.

    Two of the four imperial guards (Mollari and Rigby) came with Jaina and me, and there was a Chiss pilot and a navigator who I didn’t know on board also. The ship was definitely military, and the state-of-the-art technology appeared to be Chiss. For Jaina, this was just another mission, not unlike others she had done over the years as a Jedi. For me, however, this was new territory. I hadn’t been on a hunt like this before.

    Jaina, Rigby, and Mollari went over the general plan with me. Jaina took out a small datadisc and activated it, and the names and images of three men appeared. “These are the people who created the toxin,” she told me. “Local police have captured two of them. The third is still at large.” She touched the projection and enlarged the image of a tall, brawny, bearded human man. I read his name: Kynar Zill, birth citizen of Bastion, residing in Phaeda.

    Jaina looked at me. “We believe that the third man, Zill, is likely to make an appearance when the other two, Essen and Shu, are brought to the main legal building in the capitol for their trial.”

    “Why would he do that?” I asked.

    Rigby looked at me intently. “Because you’ll be there.”

    “Oh?” I asked, frowning in confusion. Then I understood and I felt like there was a stone in my stomach. “Oh.” He would come not to help the other two conspirators, but to finish the job they started on the Alisander. My presence would lure him out. “So he’ll come out to kill me.”

    “Your safety is our first priority,” Mollari assured me. “We are here to protect you. But this is the best way to make him show himself.”

    “How do you know he won’t just try to pick me off with a long-range sniper rifle?” I asked.

    Jaina spoke up. “Because he’ll want to do something showy. A spectacle. The whole idea of murdering everyone on the Alisander and setting it adrift as a ghost ship, that’s making a statement. He wants to humiliate me, in the most grandiose fashion he can.”

    “So it’s most likely going to be a personal, close-range attempt,” Rigby said. “We suspect he’ll be in the building, hiding, waiting for us, when he makes his move. Just in case, though, we’ll have local police on alert for sniper activity from nearby buildings.”

    “Oh, that’s comforting,” I snapped. “Your plan to get the guy who tried to kill me is by giving him another shot at me?"

    Rigby continued. “The three of us will always be around you. At least one of us will pick up any danger premonition. When the two prisoners come in, we’ll create a barrier between them and you, to protect you. The moment he shows, you’re out of there.”

    Jaina touched my arm. “If you don’t want to do this, I understand. We can go it alone and hope that just my presence is enough to draw him out. But I really think they’ve underestimated you and they’ll try something because they’ll think that you’re an easy mark. Bree, it’s our best chance of getting Zill.”

    I looked away, rubbing my chin with the back of my hand. Then I turned back to them. “I’ll be armed, right?”

    “Of course,” Jaina said.

    I thought about it some more. This was tricky work, for sure. So much could go wrong, especially on a sketchy world like Phaeda, where everyone seemed to be corrupt. But then again, could I really rest easy knowing that Zill was out there? If he was willing to try a second shot at me on Phaeda, what was to keep him from doing it on Naboo? Could I bear it if Blue were hurt or even killed, and I had had a chance to put an end to it on Phaeda and didn’t take it? Here, at least, I had two Force-sensitive, trained Imperial guards and the Sword of the Jedi watching over my shoulder.

    I sighed. “You really think Zill will come out for me? We’ll get him here?”

    Rigby nodded. Jaina gently squeezed my wrist. “We’ll get him here, Bree,” she assured me. “This will be the end of it.”

    “All right,” I said, finally. “I’ll do it. I’ll be the bait to your trap.”

    We had been assigned bunks to sleep in (no luxurious cabins like on the Lady Luck), but there were sliding panels that provided some privacy. A few hours after my discussion with Jaina and the guards, I went to my bunk and closed the panel behind me. Although Jaina assured me that the risk of getting injured was minimal, I liked to be prepared for contingencies. I tugged at my duffle bag, stowed on a shelf above me, and it thudded onto the mattress. Inside the duffle bag was a small but weighty leather case, and inside the case were my personal weapons.

    Memories flooded my mind, years of advice now coming into focus.

    I picked up my irsurrian-steel throwing dagger and ran my thumb across the blade, checking for sharpness. The carbonite hilt is custom-made to fit my hand, and the weight is calibrated for optimum throwing precision based on my biometrics.

    “The key is reliable intell,” Aunt Mara told me. We had been sparring, and she was not giving me any leeway. “Find out everything you can about your opponent and be able to draw on that knowledge at any time. If you get into their head, you can beat them in a fight.” With that, she whipped the staff behind my knee and I fell to the mat
    .
    It’s not a boast to say I’m good with a dagger. I’ve hit my target nearly every time with this blade, and I won’t hesitate to use it if I have to. My right boot has a hidden spring-action sheath, so I can have that blade in my hand in less than a second. Satisfied of its edge, I slid it into its storage sheath and put it in the case beside my Blas Tech Personna 4 (kind of a smaller version of my dad’s Blas Tech) and my holster.

    “No, like this.” Blue pivoted my hand so that I led with my knuckles. “And keep your arms close to your body. Protect your core. If you ever wind up in a cell fight, well, first, don’t wind up in a cell fight. But if you’re in a bar fight, they’re a free-for-all. Watch the other guy. Who cares what he says. While he’s making up insults, you’re studying him, looking for a weak point. Best thing is if he lets you talk, because that’s when you strike. You interrupt yourself and strike. Because who interrupts themselves, right? But this only works once, so make it count.”

    I picked up my blaster and examined it, making sure the ammo was fully charged and that the mechanics were clean. Finally, I checked my Tendrando personal blaster, a powerful little weapon for close-range accuracy that can drop a rancor.

    Mom frowned and put her datapad aside. “You should always try to negotiate. Most people are reasonable. Give them a chance to find a solution that allows them to save face, and most people will take it. If, however, they insist on taking things to a physical level, well, dear, make sure they know you’re deadly serious. The business end of a blaster doesn’t care how young or how little or how girly the trigger finger is. Look them in the eye and make them fear you.”

    I have a shock jacket with a holdout sleeve, and I can slide the Tenandro in there. The shock jacket is new; I really brought it as an afterthought but now I’m glad I did. It’s dark leather, with reinforced panels that absorb a blow and limit damage. It won’t keep a blaster shot from penetrating, but it will protect my torso, arms, and neck from blunt force injuries and it should deflect a blade.

    Dad propped his feet on the control console then leaned back in the captain’s chair. He lolled his head back and narrowed his eyes at me, then made a gun shape with his finger and jerked it back as if he was firing. “Shoot first,” he advised.

    I took in a deep breath and blew it out, then sat back and surveyed my little arsenal. I had all this and three military trained Force-users behind me, so it was unlikely that I would have any trouble. Still… I put that doubt out of my mind as I closed the case and put it back in my duffle bag. Our Chiss crew liked to keep the cabin a little cold for my tastes, so I decided to wear the jacket over my dark tan pants and light green shirt just for comfort. Satisfied that all was in order, I made my way to the ship’s common room.

    Mollari, the blonde female imperial guard, sat hunched at a table, examining a datapad. I greeted her and sat down across from her. Curious, I asked her what she was working on.

    She leaned back from her work and stretched. “It’s the data we recovered from Marsh Tor’s communications to his contacts on Phaeda. There isn’t much to work on. I’m not sure what he was trying to say.”

    “Can I take a look?” I asked.

    She slid the datapad over to me. “Of course. There were only two transmissions. Honestly, I’m surprised there were any at all. They must have had a plan when Tor wormed his way onto your ship. He would have only contacted the others if things went wrong.”

    Mollari stared at the data with me. “We studied all the transmissions between a relay communications node and the Alisander. All of the transmissions are traceable to the ship’s crew except for two abnormalities, here and here,” she said, pointing to two small bursts in the data stream. “They indicate a transmission between the relay node and an unknown receiver in the Alisander, who has to have been Tor. We’ve been able to translate them, but we don’t know what they mean.”

    “What’s the translation?” I asked.

    She frowned and rubbed her hands through her buzz-cut blonde hair. “The first transmission says ‘no droid’ and the second says ‘now.’ We think the second one was Tor’s indication that he was about to insert the virus, but we don’t really understand the first one. What did he mean, ‘no droid’? We know that there were droids on the Alisander, so why was he indicating that there weren’t? Or was it an incomplete statement, and if so, what was he trying to say? No droid what?”

    I thought for a moment. “When did these transmissions occur?” I asked.

    Mollari swiped a sidebar to the data and highlighted the date and time with her stylus. I had an idea. I went back to my bunk, retrieved my datapad and brought it back to the common room, then pulled up this very journal that I’m writing in right now. Following a hunch, I synched the time stamps of my journal and the transmission record. Sure enough, the first transmission matched the date and time that Blue and I made our first visit to the refugees. The second one corresponded to the day that Blue left for the space station.

    I recalled a conversation Blue had had with me recently. He had been slowly opening up to me about those unspeakable years, when he was incarcerated and then homeless. Suddenly the meaning of Tor’s transmission became chillingly clear.

    I had been on the street, homeless, for about five months and I was desperate, Blue had told me. I was hungry, so I hung out near a street café, hoping to grab scraps of food left behind before the server droids caught me. So there I was, hanging just out of sight, when Captain Sia and Derek came by. I heard their whole conversation while they ate. Shipping cargo wasn’t working for them, too many problems, but there were plenty of refugees to ship. Derek was saying that with transporting refugees, the profit per run was less but it was far more reliable, given the cargo shipments that were being intercepted or stolen or just lost. The problem was that the law required that the refugees get medical attention or the ship wouldn’t get compensated. The usual thing that refugee transporters did was buy a med-droid because paying an actual doctor just cost too much. But med-droids weren’t cheap either, and they were trying to figure out how they could afford one. Well, I listened closely. This was my chance and I knew it. When Captain Sia and Derek left the café, I approached them and explained that I was trained as a front-line war medic who had no war to serve in since the cease fire. If they were willing to take a chance on me, then I would gladly serve as their ship’s medic for the refugees. I even told them I wouldn’t ask for pay, just a place to sleep and the same food rations as the refugees got. If I wasn’t what they wanted, they could just dump me off at the next port. Captain Sia and Derek checked out my credentials, looked at each other, then at me. That’s why I got the job. I was cheaper than a med-droid.

    The transmissions were about Blue. They had to be. Marsh Tor had expected a med-droid on the Alisander, not a real person. In his arrogance, he must not have checked the ship’s roster, or maybe he misinterpreted Blue’s parole number as a med-droid registration number. This must have been a serious complication – droids didn’t make intuitive leaps; they didn’t pull clues together and solve medical puzzles.

    I told Mollari what I thought it meant. Her eyes widened. “Of course. They had to change their plans and adapt to the fact that there was no droid. They had to insert the virus when Blue wasn’t there, otherwise he would have isolated it right away and it wouldn’t have spread.”

    “That was their first case of bad luck on their part,” I said, the clues falling together. “So they had to initiate the virus later than planned, when Blue was off-ship. Then their second unexpected wrong turn -- I didn’t go into the cargo bay to visit the refugees when Blue was gone, as they expected me to. I was pregnant, and I stayed in our quarters because I was tired and not feeling well. When I finally did contract the virus, it was much later than they planned and we were within range of a rescue. That’s when they got their final unexpected development. Nobody outside the ship knew that Blue loved me. They had no idea that he was willing to do anything it took to save my life.”

    I sat quietly, thinking about all the planning that these men had gone to in order to kill me. I lived openly on Tanis and they could have shot me dead at any time. But they wanted a ghost ship floating aimlessly in deep space, everyone on board murdered by this virus. They weren’t content with just my body on the proverbial pyre, they wanted everyone’s, in a grand macabre spectacle. It would have been the focus of the news for months. And they would have turned the blame for the disaster on Jaina, citing her inability to protect her own sister, and attribute the deaths of all those innocent people to Jaina’s implied incompetence.

    I must have had a somber look on my face as the implications set in. Mollari put her hand on my shoulder and gently squeezed. “Don’t worry,” she told me. “We’ll get them. They’ll pay.”
     
  8. WarmNyota_SweetAyesha

    WarmNyota_SweetAyesha Chosen One star 8

    Registered:
    Aug 31, 2004
    Superb untangling of clues. =D= Oooh, the conspirators are your definite heartless soul-less terrorist types. :eek: A whole crowd of innocents sacrificed for their grand scheme. [face_thinking]

    ~!

    Like the well-rounded & good advice Bree has gotten from various sources. Putting them all together in one defensive strategy - :cool: The plan is a good one & I know that Bree would not want to scurry off into safety and leave Zill on the loose and her loved ones targets, much less herself. But there is something about falling into your own trap, i.e., outsmarting yourself that bugs me silly. [face_nail_biting]
     
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  9. JadeLotus

    JadeLotus Jedi Grand Master star 4

    Registered:
    Mar 27, 2005
    And everything makes sense - very well thought out plot that was, and the fatal flaw in that they didn't expect with Blue. I loved Bree reflecting on the advice from Mara, Blue and her mother, and of course, Han which was perfect.
     
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  10. ginchy

    ginchy Jedi Grand Master star 4

    Registered:
    May 25, 2005
    How nervous Bree must be. I love her reflecting on the advice she has learned from other survivors. She's one, too.
     
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  11. Ewok Poet

    Ewok Poet Force Ghost star 6

    Registered:
    Jul 31, 2014
    [37]
    The earlier paragraphs are a very, very accurate depiction of a young adult who may not be completely emotionally developed yet, just like the clingy stuff that Han advised Bree about was realistic and believable. I enjoyed that, it was 100% on spot, the generalisations, the initial anger. And then relating everything to Blue.

    But then, she starts thinking logically and, eventually, comes to the most important point: that this moff would not mind everybody else on the ship being "collateral damage", which is the most disturbing thing about the whole virus crisis. Each single time when Bree sees the world beyond herself and, occasionally, Blue, she is one step closer to maturity, to being a great leader. Dare I say that she reminds me of both of her grandmothers? :)

    [38]

    This is great. I mean, the plan described there is definitely not great and the fact that Bree needs to be armed in her bunk is scary; but every single little thing here seems to fit perfectly: from who made each piece of arms, to how Mara Jade taught her to protect herself - to these conspirators completely erasing Blue's humanity by calling him a "droid", yet failing at their own ultimate goal. Ha!
     
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  12. divapilot

    divapilot Force Ghost star 4

    Registered:
    Nov 30, 2005
    Nyota’s Heart:

    Superb untangling of clues. Oooh, the conspirators are your definite heartless soul-less terrorist types. A whole crowd of innocents sacrificed for their grand scheme.

    Yes, they are ruthless. They hate the idea of Jag ascending so much that they are willing to destroy anyone. The desire for power can do that to people.

    Nyota’s Heart:


    Like the well-rounded & good advice Bree has gotten from various sources. Putting them all together in one defensive strategy - The plan is a good one & I know that Bree would not want to scurry off into safety and leave Zill on the loose and her loved ones targets, much less herself. But there is something about falling into your own trap, i.e., outsmarting yourself that bugs me silly.

    Bree has been a student of self-defense and security for years, but she has never been tested in a real-life situation. Knowing how to do something and actually doing it are two different things. And nothing ever goes as planned. Thank you for your reply!

    JadeLotus:

    And everything makes sense - very well thought out plot that was, and the fatal flaw in that they didn't expect with Blue. I loved Bree reflecting on the advice from Mara, Blue and her mother, and of course, Han which was perfect.

    Thank you! Yeah, shoot first is Han’s motto, right? But every person she’s encountered has taught Bree something unique. Now she has to pull it together. And Blue was the unexpected wild card. They hadn’t counted on him (or Zara, for that matter) to be heroes.



    Ginchy:

    How nervous Bree must be. I love her reflecting on the advice she has learned from other survivors. She's one, too.

    Thank you for the response. Bree is a good student and she knows to learn from others. I suppose growing up with the idea in the back of your head that you’re the weakest would make you more attentive. But she is tougher than she gives herself credit for.



    Ewok Poet:

    [37]
    The earlier paragraphs are a very, very accurate depiction of a young adult who may not be completely emotionally developed yet, just like the clingy stuff that Han advised Bree about was realistic and believable. I enjoyed that, it was 100% on spot, the generalisations, the initial anger. And then relating everything to Blue.

    But then, she starts thinking logically and, eventually, comes to the most important point: that this moff would not mind everybody else on the ship being "collateral damage", which is the most disturbing thing about the whole virus crisis. Each single time when Bree sees the world beyond herself and, occasionally, Blue, she is one step closer to maturity, to being a great leader. Dare I say that she reminds me of both of her grandmothers?


    Yeah, both Blue and Bree were too clingy with each other, and Han calls her on it. She’s unconsciously enabling him, and although she means well she can’t be doing that. It isn’t healthy for either of them. She is starting to shed her fear of everything around her, and that starts with not smothering Blue. The next step is to think beyond her relationship with Blue and realize that life is bigger than they are. She’s getting it. She’s becoming quite a competent person.

    And yes, the most horrifying thing is not the fact that the conspirators wanted her dead, but that they wanted all the other people on the ship dead, too. As this sinks in, Bree re-evaluates her perspective on her life.



    Ewok Poet:

    [38]

    This is great. I mean, the plan described there is definitely not great and the fact that Bree needs to be armed in her bunk is scary; but every single little thing here seems to fit perfectly: from who made each piece of arms, to how Mara Jade taught her to protect herself - to these conspirators completely erasing Blue's humanity by calling him a "droid", yet failing at their own ultimate goal.


    Bree kind of thought that there might be trouble, and she usually has some kind of weapon close by anyway. But this is an arsenal. She’s going to war here. Added to that is all the training and advice she’s gotten. She comes from a family of warriors, and she’s about to have her own baptism of fire. She wonders if she is up to the task.

    And this is why I love your reviews, EP – the idea of “erasing Blue’s humanity by calling him a droid” – I didn’t even realize that I did that, and yet there it is. This is a recurring theme in these two works. Blue is struggling throughout both stories to assert his humanity – he is a person, not a number, and he is entitled to basic dignity. Here it is again.

    Thank you so much for your thought-provoking reviews!



     
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  13. divapilot

    divapilot Force Ghost star 4

    Registered:
    Nov 30, 2005
    Author's note: violence; this chapter has been approved by the mods.




    [39]

    You don’t know destruction until you see a planet after the Vong are done with it.

    Phaeda might have been an agreeable world at some point, maybe even pleasant, but not now. Half-destroyed towers jutted skyward like broken teeth snapping at the sky, and there was a vile, swampy smell of what can only be described as digestion in the air. I covered my face with my scarf in a futile attempt to mask the stench. Streets were reduced to pathways where ragged people picked their way across the rubble piled against the buildings.

    Since we didn’t know quite what was going to happen, we came prepared. Jaina and her guards had their lightsabers at easy reach, and they also carried blasters. I wore my Blas Tech on my thigh holster, with the Tendrando mini slid up the sleeve of my shock jacket. My blade was snugly hidden in my boot and I wore reinforced, fingerless gloves to protect my hands. Like Jaina, I had slicked back my hair and plaited it tightly against my scalp.

    With Mollari on point and Rigby in the rear, we made our way to a cleared-out section of Gorso, the regional capital. Restoration had started, apparently, at the buildings designated for use by the imperial government, which made some sense if you think about it. Some central location has to be established where people can come for assistance, and this was it. One of the buildings acted as a legal center, where the local courts and police made their headquarters.

    “Any idea when this party you’re taking me to gets started?” I asked.

    Rigby nodded. “The local authorities are bringing in Essan and Shu at any moment. We’re almost positive that Zill will show up at that point.” He looked over to the east, shading his eyes from the sun. “And there they are.”

    A modified transport speeder was making its way through the rubble, a small cloud of dust in its wake. Instinctively, Jaina and the two guards spread out, and I saw Jaina flex her fingers. A small crowd began to form, drawn by our unusual presence and curiosity about the incoming vehicle. I leaned toward my sister. “Want to know what kind of feeling I’m getting about this?” I asked quietly.

    The prisoner transport shuddered to a halt in front of the government building. Jaina, Rigby, and Mollari put more space between each other, making a perimeter around the transport. But there was something wrong. I know I have no ability to feel the Force, so maybe it was nerves or just a hunch, but I felt sure that something bad was going to happen.

    If it did, there was a pretty good chance it was going to come soon, while the prisoners were being transferred from the transport to the legal building. I backed away from the building to get a better overall look and started to scan the crowd. If Zill was going to show up, he could be among the spectators, right? But how would I recognize him? Suddenly Rigby’s shout cut through the air. “Get down!”

    A tremendous blast rocked the plaza. I crouched down and covered my head from the falling debris. When I looked up, I saw the guards and Jaina rush toward the building. In the chaos, the two prisoners had attempted to run away. I glanced away from them and toward the group of people who had been gathering when the explosion occurred. Most of them were slowly climbing back to their feet, assessing themselves for possible injuries. Others were lying still. But one man was looking straight at me. His left eye gleamed with a distinctly metallic glint, just like the gleam from Marsh Tor’s optical communication device.

    The man was about the same age and height as Zill, although he had no beard and his hair was a different colour. I didn’t think. I acted, as if my body were not under my own control. Adrenaline surged through me, and I scrambled to my feet to chase him. The man ran down the side road, where debris and refuge banked against the exteriors of the buildings, and I bolted after him. At one point he ducked into a cleared alleyway and headed toward an industrialized sector. Pure rage fueled me. This was the man who created the virus that nearly killed me, the virus that brought so much misery to everyone on the ship. There was no way in hell I was going to let him get away from me.

    Alleyways gave way to industrialized corridors. Fine. Less rubble to deal with. I skidded into a corridor and barely missed a blade that whirred past my head, embedding itself in the panel behind me. At the back of the dead-end corridor stood Zill, his identity unmistakable, breathing hard, but staring at me with fury. His one enhanced eye glittered an unnatural gold.

    That was when I got my first queasy feeling that maybe chasing after this guy all by myself wasn’t the smartest move I ever made. And he was huge, bigger than I first thought. I reminded myself that I have a lower centre of gravity and I was more agile, so I had to remember my advantages and not be intimidated by his size.

    Of course, a good weapon evens out a size disadvantage every time, so I grabbed my blaster out of the thigh holster. I raised it to aim just as he slammed his hand on a panel above a valve, releasing something that hissed into the air. I glanced at the writing about the valve only long enough to read the words “danger” and “flammable.” Great. My blaster was useless; if I shot my blaster then whatever he was flooding the narrow corridor with would most likely explode, killing us both.

    Zill sprinted toward me, and I saw the flash of metal in his hand. Maybe I should have run, but my anger fueled me and instead I thought, well, two could play this. I dropped my blaster and headed back at him and, in a fluid motion, lifted the hidden blade from my boot. He lunged and I ran straight toward the wall, just as he brought his blade down on empty air. My left boot hit the wall, and I used that energy to propel myself back toward him, twisting and landing on his back just as his momentum carried him past me. With a shriek, I sank my blade in his shoulder, but not deep enough. I held my grip on it and it came out of his back, leaving a bloody gash.

    We landed hard on the ground, with me on top. I could not lose the advantage. I either killed him or he killed me, and that made my objective very focused. I came down on his neck hard with my elbow, attempting to follow that weakening blow with the knife. Unfortunately, this exposed my side, and he punched me with surprising power in the side. Had I not worn my shock jacket he probably would have broken my ribs. I rolled off of him, then got to my feet immediately.

    I circled him in a half-crouch, my blade wet with his blood. My side hurt but there was no time to think about it. He suppressed a grimace, then came at me again with his blade. With my free left hand I was able to wrap my wrist around his, breaking his attack and forcing him to hit a glancing rather than a direct strike off my shock jacket. As I tried to stab upward with my right hand, he grabbed my left hand, twisted it, and pulled it backwards. I gasped in pain as something snapped.

    The hissing of the released chemical became louder, and the fumes, concentrated in this narrow corridor, were making it increasingly harder to breathe. I paused for one moment to catch my breath, and in that moment he took the advantage and barreled at me, lifting me off my feet and throwing me with all his strength against the opposite side of the corridor. I hit the wall violently, scraping my forehead, and my already hurting side slammed into the metal valves. My mouth filled with the metallic taste of blood. I heard something else crack on my side, and suddenly breathing was nearly excruciating.

    Fear began to creep in, fear that I was way over my head. I could not lose; losing this fight was death. I lay still for a moment and he came over, his knife still gripped in his hand. He should have thrown it because as soon as he got close enough I whipped my foot around his ankle and he dropped to his knees. Again I lunged at him with my knife, but before I could make contact he grabbed my arm and yanked, pulling me down flat to the ground, and this time his blade came up quickly. He brought it down toward my neck in an attempted kill-stroke, but I was able to move just far enough that the blade missed my neck and instead slid down from my cheekbone to my jaw, then skidded harmlessly across the high collar of my shock jacket.

    Blood dripped into my eyes from the cut over my brow and I blinked it away. Before he could get another chance to slip his blade under my collar to slit my throat, I brought my knee up between his legs. He froze momentarily in pain, long enough for me to put my boot on his chest and kick him away.

    The chemicals were weakening us both. I coughed violently from the toxic air. He approached me, stumbling a little, clearly feeling the effects of the chemicals himself and as a result becoming more careless. I swiped my blade across his midsection, and I could tell by the sudden blood that I connected, but I lacked the strength to do any significant damage. Zill grabbed my arm, twisted, and the knife clattered onto the ground. Then he threw me backwards and I fell flat on my back, choking on the fumes, myeyes tearing from the chemicals. He sat down heavily on me, and the pain was excruciating. His hateful eyes glared down at me as he raised his knife one more time.

    But when I looked up at him, I didn’t see him. All in one moment, I saw Jaina, running into this same corridor, her face grief-stricken. I saw my parents and Jacen. I saw my Blue. I remembered the way the lines around his indigo eyes crinkled when he laughed. The soft fall of his hair when my fingers cleaved through it. The warmth of his breath on my face right before he kissed me. I knew I was saying goodbye to them.

    I didn’t want to die. I struggled with both of myhands to hold Zill’s arm back as he raised his knife. He began to lower the blade--

    -and he came to a sudden lurching stop in mid-strike. His body lifted off me, and his eyes grew wide with surprise as he hovered, suspended, unable to move. His knife sailed out of his hand to clatter harmlessly far out of reach. Then he went flying backwards, like a child’s toy, and slammed into the wall. His limp body sagged to the ground.

    Jaina raced over to me and put her arm across my back as I struggled to climb to all fours. The ground whirled in my dizzy state, my lungs seared and my brain too long deprived of clean oxygen. “Hang on, Bree,” she said.

    She slid her arm under my own and helped me to my feet, and I grabbed her for support. I looked at her through stinging eyes and was shocked at the amount of blood staining her clothing. “What happened? Where are you hurt?” I managed to ask.

    “I’m not bleeding,” she said grimly.

    I realized what she was telling me, but all I could manage was “Oh.” Rigby appeared suddenly beside me and placed a rebreather on my face, and the fresh air coming in contact with the toxic fumes I had been inhaling made my lungs scream. I almost fell to the ground, but I grabbed Jaina’s robe for balance.

    Out of the corner of my eye I saw a medic team rush past, presumably to treat Zill. One of the medics came over to me but I waved her off. Instead, I clung to my sister, and I felt a lightness surround me, as if invisible, gentle hands carried me. I may have been supported by Jaina, and she may have used the Force to help me, but I walked out of that corridor on my own damn feet.

    I waited until we were in the main road, then I collapsed. I was vaguely aware of Rigby picking me up and carrying me to a waiting shock-cot, to be loaded into an emergency medical speeder.

    The next thing I remember was waking up in a medbed. Mollari was sitting in a chair beside me. When she saw me stir, she reached over and held my hand. “How are you feeling?” she asked.

    Alive, alive, alive. Like I got trampled by a herd of banthas, but gloriously, miraculously, gratefully alive. “Okay,” I rasped. I could taste the bitter flavor of bacta in my mouth.

    “You’ve been under treatment for almost a day and a half,” she told me. “Your sister insisted on the best surgeons and medical care for you. You inhaled a lot of the fumes, and they seared your lungs.”

    “Surgeons?”

    “The cut on your face had to be rebuilt to limit scaring.”

    I raised my hand to my cheek to feel the soft padding of a bandage. Limiting scaring didn’t mean the same as removing scaring.

    I gave myself one day to rest. Jaina came later that day to check in on me and to tell me that they had the three conspirators in custody. I could stay here and recuperate, and they would hold over the trial until I could give my testimony, or the tribunal could just use the same testimony I had presented with Moff Ardon’s trial. Jaina confided that, given the abundance of evidence of their treachery, she expected they would face the same fate as Moff Ardon.

    I thanked her for coming by, and although she told me I could stay as long as I wanted, I had had enough. She would have to use the testimony I had spoken earlier. I love her and I would miss her, but I was done.

    Bythe next day Prinz had flown me to the border, where I got passage on a commercial transport to Naboo. It’s been two days already and I should arrive in Theed the day after tomorrow. I’ve stayed in my small cabin for most of the voyage, resting and trying to get my strength back. I don’t go out, and I have my meals sent to my room. I don’t want to talk with anyone. My side still hurts, and when I cough it feels like I’m being kicked in the ribs. Out of curiosity, earlier today I peeled away the sterile patch on my side and it’s a gruesome mottled purple and red. Each time I look in the ‘fresher mirror, all I see are the bacta patches on my cheek and forehead. It all reminds me of how close I came to losing everything.

    I commed Blue today and gave him my transport arrival information, asking him to come and pick me up at the receiving centre. I’m exhausted, and I just want to go home.
     
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  14. WarmNyota_SweetAyesha

    WarmNyota_SweetAyesha Chosen One star 8

    Registered:
    Aug 31, 2004
    Superb! For someone so exquisite with the internal dynamics of characters, you do hand to hand action very, very well! =D= Yay for Bree and mega, ginormous relief! [face_dancing] Glad she's done with all that! :D
     
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  15. ginchy

    ginchy Jedi Grand Master star 4

    Registered:
    May 25, 2005
    Oh my gosh, that was intense!!!! Bree is not one to mess with. But she did come so close to losing it all--makes what she and Blue have even more precious to fight for. I love that she's going home--she deserves a long rest. [face_love] [face_love]
     
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  16. JadeLotus

    JadeLotus Jedi Grand Master star 4

    Registered:
    Mar 27, 2005
    Loved the description of a Vong-ravaged planet to open up the chapter - very evocative. And that action scene - so well written and tense! I'm always in awe of people who can write fight scenes, and this was visceral and very real - Bree was fighting for her life in more ways than one, fighting to retain the control that was stolen from her, and her walking out on her own two feet (with support from Jaina) seems nicely symbolic as well as a badass moment for Bree.
     
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  17. Ewok Poet

    Ewok Poet Force Ghost star 6

    Registered:
    Jul 31, 2014
    So many challenges, temptations for Bree, but this really DIDN'T have to happen. On the other hand, this kind of a scar should be worn with pride.
     
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  18. divapilot

    divapilot Force Ghost star 4

    Registered:
    Nov 30, 2005



    Thank you! I appreciate it! It was a lot of work, though – I have a friend who is very into martial arts, and he helped me with the choreography. I can only guess what people must think if they ever check my search engine browser history! As for Bree, she is done with those who attacked the ship, but there are other things that this event has left unresolved.


    Thanks so much! Bree can be a badass when she wants to be. At first she was fighting for Blue and for herself, but she is starting to see it’s more than that. And such a battle takes a physical and emotional toll – right now she needs to go home, to her Blue who knows just how to take care of her. [face_love]


    Thank you very much! This was probably the chapter that took the longest to write. Bree really got into something over her head, and she had to fight for her life here. But being a Solo, she’s too prideful to not walk out on her own feet. She is reclaiming her life in more ways than one.


    Thank you for your reply! You’re absolutely right, this did not have to happen. She did not think this through, and it nearly cost her. As it is, she will be physically scarred for the rest of her life from her hasty decision. Bree is a bit stunned by all that’s happened right now, but when it sinks in she will have to deal with the implications of her actions. o_O
     
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  19. divapilot

    divapilot Force Ghost star 4

    Registered:
    Nov 30, 2005
    [40]

    I made it through customs at Theed and scanned the receiving area for Blue. He was easy enough to spot. He came over, took my bags from me, pushed my hood back and pulled me close to him. I put my arms around him and buried my face in the crook of his neck. Then he pulled away just enough to push my hair off my face and kiss me gently. I had switched over to a much lighter sterile patch on my cheek, and he touched it, his eyes full of concern, but I shook my head imperceptibly at his unspoken question. “Please, let’s just go home,” I said quietly.

    We took a speeder taxi to the hotel near the center of Theed, where he’s been staying. I just leaned against him during the ride, appreciating the feel of his arm protectively pulled around me.

    He didn’t say anything until we were alone in the lift at the hotel. Then he turned to me. “What happened?” he asked. “I thought you said you were going to be careful.” He ran his hand over the cut above my eyebrow and the bruises on my face to inspect the fading marks.

    “I forgot to duck.”

    “Oh, Bree.”

    I tried to laugh it off. “At least I got to keep my arm. That’s more than some members of my family manage.”

    “Where else did you get hurt?”

    “Besides the face? Let’s see. Two cracked ribs. Bruised lung and some internal bleeding. Bruising on my side. Minor concussion. Toxic inhalation.” I thought for a moment. “Yeah, that’s it. They took care of it right away.”

    He sighed again as the lift doors opened to his floor. We walked the short distance to his small suite.

    The doors opened and we went in. Blue put my bags on a chair, then he retrieved his med pack from the closet. He took my hand and led me into the bedroom.

    I sat down on the edge of the bed as he retrieved a box of analgesic pads from med pack. Gently, he pulled my clothing over my head, and with practiced skill, he began to examine the injuries to my torso. He palpated my ribs, quickly determining which had been injured and confirming that they had healed properly. The large bruises on my side where I had gotten hit were starting to fade from purplish blue to an ugly greenish yellow, and as he applied the analgesic to the bruises I felt the area grow cooler and the soreness ease.

    Slowly, carefully, he removed the patch from my cheek. He shook his head, his expression becoming more distressed as he inspected the rebuilt skin around the injury. “They did a good job fixing it up, but I can’t say you won’t have a scar,” he noted, moving my jaw to see the injury from another angle.

    Blue then sat behind me on the bed as he took his audioscope case out of the bag, removed the device, then inserted the receiver in his ear and placed the tracer on my back. “Take a deep breath,” he instructed. I did, wheezing a little. He listened carefully, moving the tracer around my back to listen to other parts of my lungs. “You still have some damage there, Bree,” he said, tilting his head to remove the receiver from his ear. “I want you to get that graphed out to make sure it isn’t permanent.”

    “When I trained as a field medic, I figured I’d be examining battle wounds in a war zone, not my bedroom,” he muttered as he returned the audioscope to its case and placed it in his med pack. He efficiently began to examine my back, shoulders, and arms, then got to my left hand. He raised an eyebrow. “Did you break a finger?”

    I cringed. “Forgot that one.”

    He sighed and shook his head. “What can I get for you? Do you want me to make you something to eat? Some tea?” he asked.

    I closed my eyes, suddenly exhausted. “No. I just want to be home with you.”

    He sat quietly beside me for a moment, his hand resting lightly on my bare shoulder, then he slipped off his shoes and removed my boots for me. Fully dressed, he positioned the pillow behind him and sat half-upright against the headboard. He grabbed his hair from behind his neck and pulled it over his right shoulder, where it fell across his arm, then got comfortable. I turned from where I was sitting on bed and he motioned for me to come over to him. I lay down next to him on my stomach, my head on his chest and one leg resting on his, and listened to his heartbeat while he stroked my hair. Each gentle touch unwound me more, my pent-up stress dissolving under his soothing caress.

    “Read to me, Blue,” I whispered. “Please.”

    I settled in with my head resting on his chest, right under his collarbone. He took the datapad from the table beside the bed, then switched it on and began to swipe through different options. “Sure. What do you want to hear?”

    “Your voice.”

    He cleared his throat and began to read aloud from the latest novel he had downloaded. I didn’t care what the words were; I closed my eyes and listened to the cadence rise and fall and to the soft thrumming of his heartbeat, and slowly the weight of the last few weeks began to subside. Eventually I relaxed.

    I must have dozed off like that, my head lying on his chest, because the room was darker when I opened my eyes again. He hadn’t moved, probably so as not to wake me. I moved off his chest and lay beside him on the bed.

    Blue took the opportunity to sit up as well and pull his shirt off, then we lay facing each other, side by side. “Please don’t scare me like that again,” he said quietly, reaching for my hand. “My heart sank when I got your message that you weren’t coming right back. Then, when I didn’t hear from you for three weeks, I thought the worst had happened.” He shook his head. “Bree, I can’t live without you.”

    I sat up and put my finger on his lips.”No, baby. Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that. You’re smart and kind and so many people love you. Don’t ever say you can’t live without me.”

    “But –“

    “No. If anything ever happened to me, you would honor me by living a wonderful life after me. You would have to go on. Who would tell our story if you were gone too?”

    He turned away, blinking back tears, his anxious concern finally finding release. I placed my hand on his cheek and turned his face back toward me. “Someday, my love,” I told him, “one of us is bound to leave and the other will be left behind. It’s inevitable. If I lost you, my heart would break and never reassemble. But I would find a way to remember when I had you right beside me like we are now, and it would be enough to see me through. Then I would tell anyone who would listen about us, tell them our story, and they would hold their own heart empty and small in comparison and be jealous that we had such a love as this.”

    He reached up and wiped my own tears, then took my hand in his, kissing it. Then he put his arms around me and gently, mindful of my injuries, he pulled me in and kissed me. We lay back down, and I huddled close to him. I felt protected and loved, and that was all I wanted right then. The galaxy could go on without us tonight. I was home again.
     
  20. WarmNyota_SweetAyesha

    WarmNyota_SweetAyesha Chosen One star 8

    Registered:
    Aug 31, 2004
    Wonderful nurturing post! :D Oh and thanks BTW. This talk is exactly one I want to include in one of my diaries but I had no idea precisely how to pull it off or broach it - such a delicate sensitive topic as it is!!! @};- They are so tender and open with one another. [face_love] You can really feel the home-ness, the sense and process of serenity being regained. :)
     
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  21. JadeLotus

    JadeLotus Jedi Grand Master star 4

    Registered:
    Mar 27, 2005
    Blue's tender care of Bree and her healing injuries was just lovely. And this:

    [face_love][face_love]




    Excellent, mature discussion at the end as well, with both of them needing to accept that the worse may happen, and that they would survive it.

    This speech was gorgeous - almost Shakespearean. It reminds me a lot of Henry V - "And gentlemen in England now-a-bed/Shall think themselves accurs’d they were not here/And hold their manhoods cheap while any speaks/That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day." Different context, obviously! But the lyrical nature and theme - just a beautiful thing for Bree to say.
     
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  22. Gemma

    Gemma Jedi Master star 4

    Registered:
    Dec 25, 2013
    Okay it's time for me to try and catch up:

    (27) Glad Bree has that Holo. Talking to strangers who understand rehab is helpful I think.

    (28) Tough love comes to mind from Claria's directions/suggestions on what to say to Blue. Glad he says he's choosing her love over the drugs. It was sweet that he was able to spend the night with her and they could be together as lovers.

    (29) I like watching sunsets/sunrises with ones I care about -- it just something special about it. It was a good that they talked about their lost baby boy. A lot of people forget that the man grieves in a miscarriage too.

    (30) Sharing his religion seemed touching thing for her to ask him to do with her. But to have someone love you and for you to Return that love -- that's the best combo in the galaxy.

    (31) I enjoy their talk on the bed and when Bree expresses the word 'cherish' to him - perfect. What more could a soul mate want.

    (32) I think Naboo is a good choice for them both. But I am worried about Blue's anxiety of being apart from Bree for this week or so.

    (33) "You're a Solo. Trouble finds you." So true. I enjoyed the love melting kiss they share before Han's arrival to the hotel room.

    (34)
    Really cute comment by Han. I love his advice on Blue becoming dependent on her -- it's dead on, but I'm still worried about Blue too.

    (35) Wonder what Jaina wants from Bree?

    (36) I like the message that Bree sends to Blue and how she expressing to him why she must stay for the trials. I just hope that he does not get into trouble why she's gone.

    (37) I think it was brave for Bree to speak to Ardon and then sign off on his death sentence with a clear conscious.

    (38) Don't like them using Bree as bait for the trap for Zill.

    (39) Bree gave an excellent show of herself in the fight, but she almost paid with her life.

    (40) "I forgot to duck." -- This was precious -- it made me laugh as his advice to her had been 'don't forget to duck'. I adored how he inspected her wounds and found something with her lungs they missed so it would not become permanent. I loved how she explained to him that one day -- one of them would have to learn how to live without the other and why and how. The entire passage was very well structured --- I thought it was sweet that she fell asleep on him just by listening to his voice and that he didn't move till she woke --- what an expression of love on both their parts. WOW!!:)=D=@};-
     
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  23. divapilot

    divapilot Force Ghost star 4

    Registered:
    Nov 30, 2005

    Thank you! Blue has a tendency to think the world can’t go on without her; he has made her so much of his life. But the world goes on regardless, and she reminds him of that as gently as she can. She knows how close she came, and she loves him too much to allow him to sink under just because she is gone. Understanding that you are just part of a much bigger picture is a big step.

    They do love each other, and Blue does what he does best: takes over her medical care. It’s his way of showing he loves her, and she wants him to care for her. Outside of emergency care, only he is allowed to do that for her.[face_love] She feels safe with him.


    Thank you! Blue is a nurturer, and he wants to mend her wounds and care for her. And this was a discussion that had to happen, especially in light of Bree’s experiences and Blue’s dependence on her. They will need to be strong enough to stand on their own two feet.

    One of my all-time favorite speeches, and it was swirling around in my mind when I wrote that. I guess I didn’t make it distinctive enough from the Bard! :oops: I was trying to get across that their love is so special and rare that other people, hearing the devotion they share, would consider themselves poor in comparison.

    Thank you, Gemma, for taking the time to read all those chapters! I appreciate it and the comments. They are spot on.


    Thank you! Yes, that was one of the last things he told her, and she still got in trouble. But at least she still has a sense of humor. And I’m so glad you caught that detail at the end. She could only truly relax and sleep safely if she is with him, listening to his heart and his voice, and he won’t move even though it’s uncomfortable because it might disturb her. They both love each other very much.[face_love] And now that she’s home, they will try to make a life together at last.
     
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  24. divapilot

    divapilot Force Ghost star 4

    Registered:
    Nov 30, 2005
    [41]

    About a week has passed since I came back from the Remnant. A lot’s happened. First, Blue and I are nearly homeowners. He had spent some time looking at houses while I was away (well, as much as he could – the property agents were less than enthused about “wasting” their time with a parolee) and he had located a perfect one for us. I had to complete the transaction since my finances are much deeper than his. This will be the first actual house, not apartment, that I’ve lived in. We’ll have a yard, and a little garden, and there’s a lake that we can see from the front room.

    The house is in a gated area, so there’s no unauthorized access to the neighborhood, which means that we won’t have to deal with any snooping gossip hounds lurking around the property. Still, we managed to get a Slot 5 mention in Gossipa! – an image of us at the furniture store somehow made it to the sludge news. Who is the Littlest Solo’s Mystery Man? the headline demanded to know. I was upset but Blue just gave me a little hug and said we’ve been through worse. So what if they know we are a couple. We’re moving in together; it will come out sooner than later.

    This peace and quiet is all new to me. I grew up in old Coruscant, and there has always been lots of bustle around. Now I have to get used to the quiet. Yesterday we were outside and I heard this strange, loud noise. I startled and grabbed Blue’s arm, and he laughed gently at my alarm. It was a flock of waterfowl flying overhead toward the lake, calling to each other. I felt like an idiot but he smiled and called me his city girl.

    The second piece of news is that Blue has a new job. He started work at the hospital a couple weeks after he arrived on Naboo. It’s not much, I’m afraid. Even with his certifications and experience and the commendations on his work and the glowing recommendations from Captain Sia, his past gets in the way. He was only able to find work as a submedic, which means that he can assist with, but not actually do, the work he used to perform as a matter of course on the Alisander. A lot of his work is menial. He hopes that his hard work will get noticed and they will eventually trust him enough to allow him to do medic duty, or even emergency tech work. Right now it’s a lot of fetching materials and holding things. But it’s a job, it makes him feel useful, and he knows even the little he does helps others.

    Honestly, I’m not sure what I want to do right now. I want to be useful too, but this whole affair with the virus makes me wonder if I should be so public. I feel like I endangered so many people. I’m considering stepping back for a while and not going right back into work. The DPA still has a position for me if I want to go back, but I just am no longer sure if that is the best thing for me and for everyone else. There are other people equally qualified who can do my job. Maybe I should let them take it over.

    I’m actually thinking of going back to school to complete my degree. I left university when I was 19, so I still have a little over a year of education left. I am sure my credits from the University of Corellia will transfer. I plan to visit the Royal Academy and the University of Veralia (just outside of the city) to look into their programs in social work and psychology. Either of those might be a good fit for me.

    Mom wants me to get a degree in public policy. I don’t know. It just doesn’t feel right, being in the public all the time like she is. She was brought up to run a planet, so she just automatically slides into that leadership role. I have a tendency to do the same sometimes. But sometimes I feel there is a real disconnect between the people who run things and the people who actually get things done. If I had to choose, I think I’d rather be doing things than running them.

    Finally, I have some incredibly good news that I saved for last. Yesterday, we received a message from the Barolian parole board. Of course, my stomach dropped and Blue’s face went white when he saw it. Frankly, no news is good news when it comes to messages from BarSecDoC. But we opened it (as if we had a choice), and to our stunned delight the message to Blue was the best news. As part of the condition of his parole, Blue is required to document that he saved ten lives to atone for the life he took. He had already done that for four people. However, Captain Sia had sent a correspondence to the parole board explaining how Blue’s actions aboard ship had saved the crew and the passengers during the outbreak. If he hadn’t had the presence of mind to pull the fire lock-out and seal the contaminated part of the ship, the virus would have spread beyond that section of the ship, infecting the command crew. And his work to create a slowing agent saved not just my life, but Thom’s and Elias’s lives also. Because of all this, the parole board has voted to accept his actions on the Alisander during this crisis as fulfilling his remaining life-debts. All he needs to do now is not break any serious laws for the rest of his time and follow the terms of the parole itself, and he should successfully earn his name back in a little under five years.

    This is such a huge weight off of him. I mean, he helps people because that’s the way he is, not just because it’s required of him as a term of atonement. But to know that this part of his requirement has been fulfilled makes his life so much less stressful. It takes a fear off of me, too, obviously. If Blue failed to complete the atonement, he would have gone back to prison to finish the ten years that were waived. I couldn’t bear it if he were taken away. Captain Sia has done him such a great service. We owe her.

    I have so much to be grateful for. I may be scarred but I’m alive. Blue is doing well, with no sign of a relapse. We have a lovely house and plans for our future. We’re eager to begin this new chapter of our lives.

    </supplemental/>

    And yet…

    And yet.

    There is still something not right in my soul. I feel out of balance. I feel like I should just put everything behind me and enjoy this wonderful life that has been given to me, like an undeserved gift. But I can’t stop thinking about the people who trusted us, trusted me, to bring them to a better life, and instead they suffered from the virus because of me. I thought I was helping them, and instead I nearly killed them.

    I close my eyes and I still see the terrifying hatred that Moff Ardon and Kyron Zill held toward me. What scares me more, though, is what Ardon and Zill saw: the rage and hatred that must have burned in my own eyes when I looked at them. I don’t like to look in the mirror, not because of the scar or the fading bruises but because of what I see looking back.

    Every Jedi is trained from such a young age not to give in to fear and hatred. It is the path to the dark side. How could I have lived with Jedi all my life and still make that mistake? I almost got killed, and I have only myself to blame. I should never have chased Zill on my own. It was stupid and unnecessary: at best, I let my team down by doing such a foolhardy thing and forcing them to come find me and save me; at worst, I gave into bloodlust. I justified my desire for revenge, and the thought that I gave into my anger so willingly and so easily scares me to the bone.

    How did I go so wrong? How do I make it right?
     
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  25. WarmNyota_SweetAyesha

    WarmNyota_SweetAyesha Chosen One star 8

    Registered:
    Aug 31, 2004
    I love the sound of where they're living, and Bree's ideas about her career, especially how it relates to being so public and out-there. [face_thinking] Chuffed about Blue and the help Sia provided. @};-

    Then... wow. =D= =D= the reflections and feelings in the supplemental part strike such a dissonant but realistic note! Bree's actions were natural and were fed by the instinctive rush of the moment more than a "blood lust" in my opinion. Her finding a balance will take time but also perhaps will take something more proactive.?
     
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