Awards The Summer 2002 Fan Fiction Awards Nominees

Best Prequel Trilogy Story

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from The Calm Before by Jedi-Jae

Anakin screamed as he charged across the platform. Without even the slightest pretense at calm, he barreled into Darth Nemesis with such fury that he almost forced them off the edge of the platform and into the abyss below. He struck at the Sith Lord over and over again, lost in a red cloud of rage and frustration, consumed by guilt for his failure to protect Padmé and his grief at seeing her fall. Even in her unconscious state, he felt her pain and it drove him into a renewed frenzy.

He bore in on Nemesis, hammering at the Sith with his lightsaber. Anakin cared nothing for his own safety - all he saw was Padmé, burned, bruised, perhaps mortally wounded as she tried to protect him. He kicked Nemesis' feet from under him and stabbed at him. Nemesis rolled away, but Anakin dogged him, kicking the man in the ribs and taking satisfaction from his grunts of pain.

Nemesis Force-pushed Anakin away and gave himself some space to jump to his feet. His reprieve was short. Anakin rushed him again, knocking him back, releasing every charged emotion he felt, beating at the Sith mercilessly. Nemesis backpedaled and Anakin could feel his uncertainty and?fear? Yes, the Sith feared him, and Anakin felt a rush of power so heady it made him dizzy.

The lightsabers smashed together with a spine-curdling screech. Anakin twisted his wrists, forcing the red saber aside, and slammed his elbow across the Sith's temple. Nemesis reeled back, and Anakin followed with a backhand across his face. Nemesis retreated as fast as he could. Anakin pursued, swinging wildly with his saber, trying to force his enemy off the edge of the platform. Their blades locked again, and Nemesis tried to knock Anakin's feet from under him. Their legs tangled and they both crashed to the deck. Their sabers skidded away from them.

What had been a duel degenerated into a brawl as the two men clinched, pounding each other with their fists as they rolled around on the floor. Anakin locked his arm around the Sith Lord's neck and punched him in the ribs again and again. He felt one snap, and let out a whoop as Nemesis cursed in pain. But Nemesis retaliated with brutal punches to Anakin's kidneys, and Anakin thought the battle might end with him throwing up all over his enemy.

Nemesis jerked Anakin to his feet and head-butted him. Anakin felt a sickening crunch in the bridge of his nose and stars exploded behind his eyes. He stumbled back and fell on his rear end. Nemesis called his lightsaber to his hand and leaped at Anakin with a howl of triumph.

As the Sith Lord raised his saber to strike him down, Anakin called his own weapon. It smacked into his palm, already lit, and he thrust up desperately.

Nemesis let out a strangled cry and looked at the blue blade that impaled his chest. He stared down at Anakin, shock and disbelief reflected in his golden eyes. Anakin stood up, keeping a tight grip on the hilt of his saber. He gave the Sith Lord a look of supreme contempt, then pushed him away, letting go of his saber. He watched with dark satisfaction as Nemesis fell to his knees, then toppled onto his side. The gold eyes settled into a sightless stare, and Anakin gave the limp body several kicks before retrieving his weapon.

He ran over to Padmé's crumpled form and gently rolled her over. Tears blurred his vision as he took in her ravaged face and cruel burns. Her right eye was swollen shut and blood trickled from a gash at the corner of her mouth. Her white suit was slashed open, and Anakin swallowed hard at the sight of the angry blackened burn that ran from her shoulder down between her breasts to her hip. Another burn crossed her belly and yet another her side. That monster! I couldn't kill him enough times to make up for what he did to her.

He gathered Padmé into his arms, cradling her gently against his chest. Placing his hand on her forehead, he let the Force wash over her. Her eyes blinked open and she t

 

Best Original Trilogy Story

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"A Portrait of Perfection" by ArnaKyle

Luke stared out at the vast galaxy of stars, peppered with fading convoys and ships. His new hand still shuddered with the phantom pain that plagued him, a reminder of what Darth Vader had done -- and what Darth Vader had told him. His thoughts drifted away from the Dark Lord, away from his father.

Leia was at his side, an angelic image of white, not knowing the fate that had bound him. His love was strong for her, though it seemed to have faded from the thoughts of romantic fantasy. But as his eyes met her face, solemn and concerned, Luke's thoughts drifted back to their first meeting, only three years before.

She had looked very much the same, still robed in white. But something had changed in her face, something was no longer the same. The confidence had drained from her face, the hard lines of the sassy princess becoming weary scars of the constant battle. She looked no longer in revenge, but sorrow. Luke's mind thought of old Kenobi, encountering the destroyed Alderaan.

Leia was an orphan, just like him. Though she couldn't be much different in age then him, he guessed, she too was without family, all alone in the endless path of space. As hard as Luke tried to push the memories of Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen from his mind, it only became more difficult for him to deny. The only parents he knew, the only ones he wanted to know, were dead. A lump grew in his throat, shivering at the thought of his real father now.

His squeeze on Leia's shoulder tightened, wishing he could tell her everything. The only comfort he could offer her was the silent gesture. Her solace to him was more vocal, turning to him with sorrow in her eyes.

"We have to win this," she whispered, and Luke nodded, his thoughts elsewhere. But the words rang in his ears, the most obvious statement now seeming so difficult. They had to win, for Han, for Alderaan, for his aunt and uncle, for Obi-Wan. He had always believed that they'd win the war, that good would triumph over darkness.

Luke had even toyed with his own daydreams of beating Vader himself. Now the triumph was removed as he wondered if he could ever slay his own father. Vader, the darkness he had fought for three long years, was his father. His father! He wondered silently why Ben and Yoda hadn't told him, feeling betrayed and very alone. Only Leia -- she had been the one source of warmth he'd found.

Why couldn't he tell her what had happened, the horrors he'd faced and survived? But then, Luke questioned if he really had survived. Suffering only the loss of his hand and a number of bruises, there was no doubt that the med-droid had passed him off with a clean bill of health. Something inside of Luke Skywalker died that day, fragments of his soul were chipping off with every struggle.

And now, Darth Vader had implanted himself within Luke's own soul. Even now, the labored breathing echoed inside of him like a hollow drum, a constant reminder of his presence. A shadow of discomfort swept across him, his blue eyes now looking far away.

Leia gently nudged Luke on the shoulder, breaking his fixed trance. "Luke?" Her voice was sweet with innocence and concern. "Are you all right?" He blinked off thoughts of Vader and returned a slight smile to Leia, looking intensely up at him.

"Yeah," he replied with a tone that denied his words. "I'm okay, thanks Leia." He took her hands, milky and smooth, in his, one burnt by the blistering suns of Tatooine and blistering winds, the other: little more than mechanics. "I've been concerned about you," he said softly.

Her head bowed in slight embarrassment, lips twitching into a smile. "You need to be concerned about yourself, now, Luke," she said gently.

His tan skin wrinkled around the eyes at he smiled at her. "But Leia, you don't always have to be so strong for all of us," he offered. "What about you? You can't be strong all the time, can you?" The look in his eyes was intently questioning, fil

 

Best Vignette

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"The Other Woman" by DarthLothi

Just because I left you doesn't mean that I love you any less.

It simply means I love another more.

Perhaps love is not the right word. It doesn't begin to describe these feelings. Obsession, maybe. Or addiction. It's a rush unlike anything I've ever known. Better than drink, better than spice, even better than sex.

The Dark Side is my mistress. She is powerful. Demanding.

It started innocently enough. Some flirting here, a light touch there. I was drawn in before I knew it. Lured by her siren song, one that spoke of a power beyond any I had ever imagined. She was so quick, so easy. Always there when I needed her.

Before long, those brief encounters were not enough. The more I touched the Dark Side, the more I longed for her cold embrace. She whispered to me at all hours, beckoning me to join her, to immerse myself within her fully. I gave in to that call. The feeling of all that power resonating through my body is the closest thing to pure ecstasy I've ever experienced. With it, I can do anything. Be anything.

And to think that this began with a simple desire: to make myself more worthy of you. I saw the things and the opportunities you missed; I saw everything you gave up to be with me. I didn't want you to think you had made a mistake. I thought that being more powerful would make me more deserving of you. I thought that you would love me more. I was wrong. In seeking to become more deserving of your love, I have become someone to be despised. I've destroyed everything.

I know I don't deserve you, but I love you. I love you so much that it hurts. Every day apart from you, from your Light, causes another part of me to wither and die. More than anything, I just want to be with you. I want to see your smile. I want to hear your laugh. I want to breathe in your perfume. I want to bask in your Light and feel alive again.

The Dark Side, however, is a jealous mistress. I had to choose. In the end, her seductive melody was too much to resist. Being with you allowed the Light in, and I could not fully embrace her beautiful, terrible potential. So I had to leave. But my soul remains with you, and I stand here an empty shell of a man.

But even now, there is untapped power that I cannot reach, and it is your fault. No matter how vile my emotions, or how depraved my acts, part of you remains with me. There is a small flicker of light, your Light, deep within me that I cannot extinguish. And for that, my mistress holds herself back from me, depriving me of absolute mastery over her.

In spite of my mistress, you're all I think about. When I lie awake at night, that flicker of Light burns brighter as I recall the warmth of your arms, the softness of your body, and the depth of your love. A love that demanded nothing, except to be returned. In seeking to give you more, I lost you. I lost everything I had. Including myself.

So now, when I lie awake missing you, I seek solace in the embrace of my Other Woman. But hers is a cold, cold comfort.

---

"Another" by Mar17swgirl

There was another one.

Vader had sensed him ever since they had dropped out of hyperspace in the Sacor system. The disturbance in the Force was small, but it was enough for him to sense the Jedi. Driven towards the disturbance, Vader ordered his shuttle to land on the fourth planet from the yellow star.

There, on the barren rock world of Kraten, he would find the Jedi.

The shuttle landed and Vader stalked down the ramp. He looked around, seeing nothing but barren wastes, rocky formations, and something that resembled a system of caves, which had been carved into the rock by the wind over the millennia. A strong wind blew across the plain, catching his cape, causing it to flap with every gust.

Vader reached out with the Force, and sensed the Jedi's presence in one of the caves, a few hundred meters away. He started towards it. For a second he thought about shielding him

 

Best Short Story/Novella

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from Kyrie Eleison by Melyanna

*~*~*~*

Lacrimosa dies illa,
Qua resurget ex favilla
Judicandus homo reus.

*~*~*~*

"I think he's waking up."

"It's about time. How many days has he been unconscious?"

Jag moaned softly as life filtered back and voices drifted around him lazily. Days? he asked himself.

He blinked groggily, letting blinding light assail his eyes. When he was able to open them again, he saw his parents standing over him. "Welcome back, Jag," his father said. "We were worried that you weren't coming back."

Jag forced his eyes to stay open. "I wasn't so sure of it myself," he replied. "Where's Kyria?"

His mother smiled. "She's fine, Jag. She was a little bruised up, but otherwise she's fine. You, on the other hand, are going to be laid up for a while."

Jag blinked in response, and his father continued, "Your leg was rather badly broken. They actually had to set the bone in the field because they were afraid to move you."

He looked down at his leg, which was set in a heavy bacta cast, and looked at his father again. "You're lucky," the older man continued. "You probably would have died in the cold if Kyria hadn't been out there with you. She saved your life."

Jag nodded, trying to take it all in. "Can I see her?"

His mother shook her head. "There's fighting going on just outside the system. Kyria wanted to stay here till you regained consciousness, but she was called up to fill one of the vacant spots in Spike Squadron."

Letting out a long breath, Jag replied, "When she gets back, can you send her here? I want to thank her."

His mother smiled. "Of course. We could hardly get her to leave when she was here."

He suddenly remembered what he had heard as he regained consciousness. "How long was I out?" he asked.

"Two weeks," his father answered. "You came close to dying several times."

Jag let his head sink a little deeper into his pillow, suddenly feeling very tired. His mother picked up on it immediately. "We should go now, dear," she said. "You need to rest."

They turned to go, but before they left, a Chiss officer in full dress uniform arrived at the door. He saluted the general, who returned it. "At ease."

Jag propped himself up on his elbows with great difficulty and watched as his mother's face blanched. What is it, Mother?

As the Chiss opened his mouth to speak, Jag realized why his mother was so pale. She had been visited once like this before.

"General, madam, I have the regretful duty of informing you that your daughter, Lieutenant Kyria Fel, was killed in action yesterday. Her remains were not found."

His father lowered his head, while his mother buried her face in her hands. Jag's head hit the pillow again, and he fought to keep his face stoic, like his father's. But he couldn't stop the tears from streaking his face.

I didn't get to say goodbye...

*~*~*~*

Libera animas omnium fidelium defunctorum
de poenis inferni
et de profundo lacu.

---

from Reciprocity by Gr-Adm-Thrawn

Karrde was in his chambers, looking out the huge windowpane of the Action VI transport vehicle. They had started to drift towards the dark side of the planet, shading them from the huge ball of gas of the Yavin system. As they entering the twilight Yavins' moons became white pearls, similar to those in the depths of Yavin 8s' ocean - floating in a sea of darkness. Similar to those that decorated the delicately lacquered zenji needles that floated in Shadas' long black hair. Karrde shifted from the corner of the windowpane where he was leaning. He felt uncomfortable. He turned and went to the refresher. A shower would maybe make him feel better.

Shadas' long black hair. His mind continued while his reason screamed to stop this. It was a breach in the basic rules of a businessman. And not any businessman: the best information broker in

 

Best Series

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from If the Mask Fits Trilogy by Amidala_Skywalker

from Chosen One

* * *You were pure ecstasy,
Like sun-kissed rain drops,
And when the stars shone in the horizon,
I knew you belonged there,
Not here, with me.

Tell me why I deserved you and I shall tell you otherwise,
Then after that, tell me why you left me?
Tell me all that you refused to say,
For I need to hear,

You were the one thing that kept me from falling,
You secured my feet firmly on the ground,
Believe me when I say,
You were my own personal beacon of light,
Now what is there left to prevent me from falling from grace?

Tell me why I deserved you and I shall tell you otherwise,
Then after that, tell me why you left me?
Tell me all that you refused to say,
For I need to hear,

And now what is there left to prevent me from falling from grace?

* * *
In loving memory of Maya Tasco.
May you float among the stars...
* * *

A deep sigh, reminiscent of a groan, escaped from his mouth, and he forced himself to pull his gaze away from the poem, the dull feeling within himself a reminder of what his words stood for.

His right hand reached up to touch the capsule, his fingers running over its smooth surface and across the plate. There he held it for a few heartbeats, before pulling away. Tearing his gaze away from the capsule, he grudgingly flung his eyes in another direction, instantly making eye contact with his apprentice.

Anakin Skywalker and the Naboo's Senator stood only a few feet away from the cabin, a small portable control pad resting in Anakin's palms. Between them there was a large space, which Obi-Wan identified as his. Their body language told of their wish to keep a stable amount of distance between themselves and yet there was this faint sense of longing between them.

For once his thoughts dwelled on his apprentice and his relationship towards the young politician, though that only lasted a second before he felt the distressed pull of upcoming events. Distracted and confused, he regrettably looked back towards the capsule, a light shade of grey tinting its smooth outer surface. Roughly, he forced a hand through his tangled hair, unknowingly moving out of the cabin towards the other two occupants of the room.

He slid in between them, receiving a worried look of pity and concern. Obi-Wan tried his best to ignore it, drowning his thoughts in the loss of Maya's presence within himself. For the thousandth time that morning his head spun, producing a sharp pain which raced across his forehead like wildflower. The sharp pain soon reverted into red hot stinging; nevertheless, he ignored that also.

In the corner of his eye, he spotted Anakin's fingers moving over the control pad hastily, a series of beeps came together as a reply or acknowledgement from the pad. With a silent hush the door closed and the small cabin was hermetically sealed.

Obi-Wan's vision drifted over to Anakin's control pad. Even though his eyes were a bit blurry - probably from the lack of sleep - he noted that Anakin activated the decompression cycle, which would suck all air from the small cabin. After the decompression was complete, the outer hatch on the cabin would open and the capsule with Maya's body would float out into the vast depths of space.

Approval washed over Obi-Wan's features and he felt a distinct emotion of pride. Obviously Anakin had also noticed this, his clear blue eyes sprung up in both shock and recognition. Obi-Wan tried to plaster an encouraging smile across his face, but failed the in process, the faint pang of sadness filling him again.

Padme shifted beside him and he automatically sensed her turn away, crystal-clear tears dripping down her face and jaw line, eventually falling to the ground. Her shoulders were hunched together and her head bowed to the side, little sobs racking her petite body. To his amazement Anakin also reacted to Padme's movements, his eyes glistening in the shadowy light and his head som

 

Best Male Original Character in a Leading Role

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Armand Naberrie of Shadows of a Past Long Forgotten by padawan lunetta

The Politcian...

The President wasn't hard to find, surrounded by his mostly Bothan advisors and other power seeking politicians. Armand walked over to him, keeping his back straight and jaw set, assuming his "absolutely in control" position. While he had to show the President respect, he could not allow himself to show any hint of inferiority. Mainly because he didn't think of himself inferior to anyone, and because he was representing Naboo.

Armand dropped a crisp, formal bow as he approached the President. "President Fey'Lya," he greeted Borsk, straightening up to meet the bothan's eye. "I am Armand Naberr, speaking on behalf of the people of New Naboo-"

"Are you sent by Baron Lairde Batista?" Borsk broke in, annoyed by this boy's interruption of his informal meeting.

Armand blinked at the President's rude statement, but showed no other sign of irritation. "No, I'm afraid what I have to say is not favorable to Baron Batista."

"Then you may register a complaint through the proper channels," Fey'lya told him calmly. "In case it escaped your notice, I am very busy right now, and cannot-"

"Proper channels?" Armand asked, incredulity raising his tone. "I believe this problem is important enough to bring straight to your attention, Mr. President."

Borsk spread his furry arms. "Every complaint holder does. With the responsibilities of rebuilding the New Republic Government, I am unable to listen to every dissatisfied citizen."

Armand tried to fight his rising temper, but it leaked out through his retort, frosting his words. "Then you would sacrifice your people's welfare for your Government." Armand's dark eyes turned hard. "You should know it is not only the Naboo that are suffering, but the refugees as well. Resources sent by the New Republic are being withheld from them to ensure the Baron's abundant wealth. You would be wise to investigate matters before mine is the first complaint of a thousand."

"Time allowing, I will see what I can do, as yours is the first complaint I've received," Borsk replied smoothly, his glinting eyes betraying his tone. "Goodnight, Mr. Naberr," He said in dismissal.

"Goodnight, Mr. President," Armand said coolly, turning on his heel and walking away from the group. Frustration mingled with anger colored his cheeks. He had never been so rudely brushed aside in his entire life, being treated like... a regular citizen. He let out a long breath, blowing some of his frustration with it. He was selfish in wanting the anonymity being a regular citizen offered, but at the same time demanding the respect and importance his position warranted him. This thought subdued his anger a little, but could not change the disinterest Borsk held towards the fate of the New Naboo people. Deciding a walk would do him and his temper some good, he stepped out of the lavishly decorated ballroom, and into the boring, but brightly lit hallway.

***

The Romantic...

"There can be, if you like," Armand said simply.

Lainey gave him a sly smile. "Would that be your role in this fate driven hall encounter?"

Armand shook his head. "Being the Jedi, I believe the role of Knight fits you."

Lainey laughed out loud. "And what would that make you, the damsel, no, man in distress?"

"No," Armand replied, stopping their stroll outside the ballroom, where slow, but beautiful music filtered through the doors. "More like the Handsome Prince."

"One step above the White Knight, you think very highly of yourself," Lainey observed with a wink. "But I can't think of many fairytales where the Knight in Shining Armor falls for the Handsome Prince."

Armand smiled and touched her cheek. "Hopefully it will happen in ours."

Lainey flushed, her eyes once again meeting his. She wondered if there was another sight in the Galaxy she'd longed to look at and study

 

Best Female Original Character in a Supporting Role

*~*~*~*

Jalen K'Dal, from Into the Unknown by Melyanna

"Sithspawn," Jalen breathed as the dust settled. "Sithspawn, Sithspawn, Sithspawn."

It looked like the only good thing that had come of the premature blast was that the Spaarti cylinder - and the clone inside - had been blown to shreds. Everything else, including herself, was covered in some kind of powder that was probably a carcinogen when inhaled, but none of that mattered. Jalen was in command, and she had to get her men out of there. "Wraiths!" she called. "Report in!"

A murmur of replies answered her, and Jalen managed to pick out all but two of the Wraiths from the moans. "Byod! Altermyn!" she cried, calling for the two Wraiths who had accidentally set off the explosion, fearing the worst.

Two distinct moans answered her, and Jalen managed to crawl out of a small heap of rubble. There was a sharp pain in her left arm, probably a bruise from the explosion and the resulting projectiles. She made her way over to the two Wraiths and saw that they needed serious medical attention. "Medic!"

As the medic made her way out of another pile of rubble, Major Driese joined Jalen himself. "You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she replied. "These two need help."

The medic arrived, set down her pack, and immediately pulled out her meager supply of bandages. "Major, if you'll come here," she began.

"What are you talking about?" Jalen asked.

"Your arm, ma'am," the medic replied.

Jalen glanced at her left arm and saw some blood. "That's nothing," she countered. Those two are barely conscious. Get to work with them."

"Yes, ma'am."

The medic turned her attention to Byod and Altermyn as Jalen looked back at the other major. "Do you need something?" she asked, rather short of temper.

"Major," he replied calmly, "you're bleeding."

She planted her hands on her hips, despite the pain that jolted through her left arm. "I'm aware of that. It is my blood, after all."

Driese sighed. "Major, let me look at it."

"Major," she replied irritably, "it's nothing." She started to walk off.

Driese grabbed her by the other arm and whipped her around. "Major Jalen K'Dal. Stand right there. I'm going to check this injury whether you like it or not. I don't want to have to carry you when you pass out from blood loss."

Jalen huffed out a sigh but let him continue. He made several noncommittal noises as he prodded the injury, so she finally demanded, "Well, what is it?"

"It's not nothing, K'Dal. Rather long and deep. You're going to need to have this bandaged now and then at the very least bacta patches later."

"Sorry, not wasting bandages on me when we'll need them later," Jalen retorted.

"No sense in saving bandages when you might not need them at all."

"Listen to me," Jalen replied, jabbing a finger into the man's chest. "I know what's likely to happen in this mission. More than likely, we're going to need those bandages for injuries a lot more severe than this. She is not using those on me. Not in a million years."

"You will get something to stop the bleeding," he countered.

Jalen sighed again. "Fine. Rip the bottom half of my shirt off and use that."

"What!?" he objected.

"You heard me," she fired. "You want me bandaged up. Use my shirt."

"What? No!" Driese replied.

"And why not?"

"That's just..." Driese seemed to be at a loss for words. "Just - not right."

"Come on, Driese," Jalen replied. Men rip their shirts apart for bandages all the time in holovids. Why can't I?"

"Because you're not a man and this isn't a holovid."

"Fine, then I'm just going to have to bleed to death." Jalen turned to storm off.

"All right, all right," Driese called after her. "I'll rip your shirt apart for you."

As she came back and lifted the hem of her shirt up for him, she decided to toy with him again. "I knew all you wanted to d

 

Best Interpretation of a Male Non-Original Character

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Corran Horn of Shadows of a Past Long Forgotten by padawan lunetta

Mirax was waiting for him when he entered the apartment's sittiing room, fists on hips. "You kept my daughter up pretty late." She accused, crossing the room to him and straightening his shirt's collar. "Not to mention my husband."

Corran balanced Jysella in one arm, to free one hand up to press against his wife's cheek. "I'm sorry," he stared deep into her dark eyes, smiling at the love he still found burning in them. "We ran into something...interesting at the Spaceport."

Mirax raised a slender eyebrow at him. "Interesting is one of the few words I don't like to hear you say." She frowned. "It means trouble."

"Not to much this time." Corran assured her. "I'll explain in the morning. For now," He hefted Jysella back into two arms. "What do you say we put this kid to bed?"

Mirax studied his face for a few heartbeats, then nodded. "Sure," she linked her arm through Corran's. "You've kept her up long enough."

"Hey!" Corran said defensively, leading the way to their daughter's room. "She's asleep, isn't she?"

"Yes," Mirax grinned. "You get one point."

They made it to Jysella's room, and Corran laid her on her soft yellow quilt. Mirax dug a nightgown out of her dresser, while Corran pulled Jysella's shoes off. He then lifted her up, allowing her to lay against his shoulder while he undid the buttons on her jumpsuit. Mirax found a white nightgown decorated with Ewoks and joined Corran on the bed. "Not that one again." He whispered, as Mirax eased Jysella into her arms and pulled the nightgown over her daughter's head.

"It's her favorite," Mirax reminded him, finishing putting the nightgown on Jysella.

"She's asleep," Corran said softly, affectionatly smoothing a stray stand of hair behind Jysella's ear.

"Fast asleep," Mirax said, laying Jysella down and pulling the quilt over her body. "This kid could sleep through an Endor Day celebration."

"And not even stir." Corran said, leaning over to kiss daughter's soft cheek.

Mirax kissed the top of her head, then got to her feet. "They're so angelic when they sleep."

"And devilish when they wake," Corran said, standing up.

Mirax smiled. "It's a shame night comes but once a day." She ran a hand through her long dark hair. "So, we have both kids in bed asleep... now what?"

Corran grinned slyly. "How about I put you to bed?" He asked, dropping an arm around Mirax's waist and lifting her into his arms.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, Mirax kissed his lips. "Sounds good to me."

Corran returned the kiss, carrying his wife to their room. He laid her gently on the bed, and kept his arm around her waist as he lay next to her.

"Aren't you going to tuck me in?" Mirax teased, running a finger down his cheek.

Corran leaned forward, raising an eyebrow at her. "I have to put you in your night clothes first." He said suggestivley, pulling her close to him.

---

Anakin Skywalker of If the Mask Fits: Chosen One by Amidala_Skywalker

She's stubborn, she's arrogant, she's stuck up and worst of all, and I?m her bodyguard...

Anakin clenched his palms into fists, trying to release his anger into the far reaches of the Force. Ever since Eirtae had called to tell him that Padme had insisted to go back to the Senatorial Quarters to look for clues, and he was to be her bodyguard, he'd been like this. How could he face a woman - who was likely to spit in his face? That's if he didn't first.

What he didn't understand is why it had to be him. Jerdin had years more Jedi training than him, and had the ability to host Padme's needs. Though, as always, he had to do the dirty work. He thought of his training as a chore, he thought of romance as temptation, and even more so, he thought of his old life.

Just think he could be stuck on that dust ball of a planet, with no life wha

 

Best Author

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JediGaladriel
from Family Portrait

The [cab] driver looked at the address. "Nice neighborhood. Lotsa kids. Your boy will like it." His gaze in the rearview mirror switched to Anakin. "How old are you, son?"


"Almost fourteen," Anakin answered automatically.

"Will you be going to school while you're here?"

"Of course he will," Siri said. "My brother will not fall behind in his education."

"Well, I can swing you right by on the way to your house," the driver said. "I'd have to pass it anyway. You'll like it. What's your best subject?"

"Hmmm?"

"In school, what do you like?" He wheezed a laugh. "Or, well, like my nephew says, what you not like least?"

Anakin hadn't considered that question. Generally, his favorite subject was always whatever he was studying at that moment. He gathered that this wouldn't be marked as "normal," so he just said, "I don't know."

"Must be something. Math? Science? Art? Music? What kind of kid are you?"

"Just normal." Since the driver apparently didn't want to give this up, he offered, "I like building things."

"Oh, they've got a shop for you to do that in. Nice shop."

"Marvelous," Obi-Wan said dryly.

The air taxi slowed and descended. "Here it is," he said. "Have a look. Looks like recess right now."

Anakin looked down at the school from a height of about twenty yards as the driver circled it self-importantly. The yard was crowded with children, more than Anakin was used to seeing. Some were playing a team sport of some kind, others were on hover-scoots similar to the one Anakin was carrying. The ages ranged from early childhood to near adulthood.

His attention was drawn to a gang of boys at the edge of the yard, near the forcefield that enclosed it. He could hear them over the static, catcalling. Several of them had stones in their hands. The group shifted, and he saw another boy--the same age, but smaller and thinner--with a brown blanket of some kind draped over him. One of the bigger boys tossed him a stick. Anakin kept his eye on this group as the circling continued.

The boy in the brown blanket looked very disappointed. He took a half-hearted swipe at one of the others, and Anakin realized dimly that he was playing Jedi. Anakin himself had done so in Mos Espa, during rare playtimes, but he was always the hero leading all the others. This boy was chasing the others, who suddenly turned on him.

"Try to mind trick us!" someone yelled.

Anakin couldn't hear what came next, but he saw the small boy wave his hand dramatically, and the others all laughed at him heartily. A stone flew. The boy hit it with the stick.

Then someone shouted, "Get the Jedi!" and they all rushed in on him. Anakin could no longer see him, but he saw the stick pulled away and broken over someone's knee.

"That's a bit rough, isn't it?" Siri asked, her voice tight.

"Ah, high-spirited kids," the driver said. I wouldn't worry about it. They won't really hurt him."

The crowd drew away again, laughing, and the small boy was left alone. He pulled off the blanket and threw it in a mud puddle.

As the driver pulled away, presumably headed for the house Siri had rented, Anakin looked over his shoulder and watched the boy deliberately stamp the blanket into the mud.

Again.

And again.

And again.

---

Amidala_Skywalkerfrom "Beneath the Silver Lining"

An anguished cry erupted from her throat, beaming her voice to the depths of Coruscant. Her body was exhausted, coping with the process of mourning for a lost child she'd never seen or held. It was killing her inside with the knowledge that the pain would never subside. Along our bond, I felt profound sorrow, a permanent feeling ? un-repairable.

She felt empty, dirty at the callous act she'd both committed and taken part in. Restraints tore at her soul and the love shared between our connected entities. She wasn't often wrong about many things, except now. She had not only lost a part

 

Thanks for doing such an awesome job on this Melyanna!!!

 

Mely! The excerpts were great! Thank you soooo, so much for doing this. I know it took a lot of time and a lot of energy. And thanks to those who have helped, and will continue to help.

 

Great job with the excerpts, Mely!

 

Thank you for doing such a wonderful job with this thread Mely

 

*hugs* Mely, thank you so much.

Am

 

Yes, a "Yay Mely" is in order

 

Mely, I can't believe you were able to do all this for us. I get headaches sometimes just posting my stories. It is truly a wonderful thing you have been able to do here, and I'm sure that it is very appreciated by many, as you can see. Anyway, thanx for the excellent job.

 

Yes, Mely, thou dost rock.

A TINY nitpick, however...the full title of my story is "Episode II: Duel of the Fates."

-Tim

 

WOW!! [face_shocked] You are truely amazing Mel!!

You have patience far beyond that of an ordinary Jedi Knight!! Awesome job! And it is very wierd to see someone else post my writing...surreal...an out-of-body experience...



~Obischick

 

Wow! Just checked this thread out.

Great job, Melyanna! Thanks for your dedication and taking the time to do this!

 

Wonderful work, Mel! I appreciate your time and effort, and I'd also like to applaud Mar for adding the markup codes. Great work to all the authors too!

 

I smell a Mely/Mar/authors appreciation thread coming up...well, not that it wouldn't be justifiable...

 

Great job Mel ! incredible !

Am posting a small question that's been bouncing around in my head : for the Nominations .. we weren't allowed to Nominted ourselves !

So here during the votes .. are we allowed to vote in the categories where we are nominated or are those categories off-limit for the Nominees ?

Just asking 'coz I'd hate to see my vote not discounted !

the Admiral

 

Attention all!

Force Heretic III by Jedi_Anakin_Solo made the final nominations for Best NJO!

Mel: once you see this error, please fix it.

Any mod: it would most kind if you could fix it ASAP, as voting is going on now!

Sorry for the error.

 

Thanks, Thena .

Oh well, stuff happens. It's not like I had a ghost of a chance against Mel and Luney anyway, but thanks for pointing that out . I owe you one .

 

Uppers