Awards 2017 Fan Fiction Awards | The Excerpts and Synopses Thread | NOW CLOSED (but you still may read!)

Welcome, one and all, to the...​

EXCERPTS AND SYNOPSES THREAD!​

PLEASE NOTE: The Excerpts and Synopses Thread is NOW CLOSED. No new excerpts will be added.​

(But you're still welcome to read what's here!)​

In this thread you will find excerpts and synopses for all stories that have been nominated for the 2017 Fanfic Awards, ordered by category. We encourage everyone interested in voting to read these excerpts before making your selections.

Excerpts and synopses are accepted from nominated authors from March 20 to April 9, 2017. Nominated authors may submit them at any time between those two dates. No excerpts or synopses will be accepted after 11:59 PM PST on April 9.

All nominated authors should have already received a PM requesting excerpts or synopses for their nominated stories. If your story is listed below and you haven’t received a PM yet, please contact The Golden Yoda.

If we don't receive an excerpt or synopsis from an author, we will simply list he relevant story here, with a link.

Complete guidelines and rules for excerpts and synopses are given below, under the spoiler cut:

Spoiler: Excerpts and Synopses Rules

General

• Authors have the choice to provide either a synopsis or an excerpt of their stories that go to the voting round.
• Excerpts and synopses should be submitted by PM only.
• Authors may submit their excerpts/synopses at any point during the excerpts period (from the moment they receive the PM request to the moment the excerpts period is over).
• Authors must provide a link with each one of their excerpts. This can be a link to the opening post of the story or a link to the specific chapter that the excerpt was taken from.
• Nominees should not disclose their nominations, publicly or privately, before the Excerpts & Synopses Thread goes live.
• If a story is nominated in more than one category, it is recommended, but not required, that the author submits a different excerpt/synopsis for each category.
• Banned authors cannot be contacted by PM and can therefore not submit excerpts and synopses if they are nominated. They are also not allowed to submit excerpts/synopses through a sock or to ask someone to submit them on their behalf.

Size and type of excerpts/synopses

• For the timeframe categories and the author categories, as well as the Best Epic and Best Series categories, the excepts/synopses should be 600 words at most.
• For all other categories, the maximum word count is 300.
• As not every processor counts word the same way, we will use this online word counter. Anything over the limit will be cut to the limit.
• Authors who choose to provide an excerpt may preface it with a very short introduction. The maximum word count for this introduction is 50 words in addition to the excerpt’s maximum word count.
• Excerpts can be one continuous passage of the story or several fragments, provided that the total word count is within the limits set above.

Category-specific rules

• For Best Canon/Legends Mash-Up, the excerpt should feature elements from both the New Canon and the Legends continuity.
• For the Best Series category, the author(s) may choose to submit an excerpt/synopsis from one story or several excerpts/synopses from the different stories that constitute the series, provided that the total word count is within the limit of 600 words. They should provide links to every nominated story that is part of the series.
• For the character categories, the nominated character should feature in the excerpt.
• For the relationship categories, the nominated characters should feature in the excerpt.
• For the Most Headsplode Moment category, the nominated element should feature in the excerpt.
• For the author categories, authors may submit any sample of their writing that was posted on the JCF within the eligibility dates. This may be an excerpt from a single story or excerpts from several stories, provided that the total word count is within the limit of 600 words. Authors who choose to provide synopses instead of excerpts may also provide synopses of several stories within the word count limit.

Nominated authors will also have received the full rules via PM.

Please note that this thread will be locked and stickied, so if you have any further questions about the excerpts/synopses process, please either ask in The Guide and Announcements Thread or PM The Golden Yoda.

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THREAD INDEX​

Timeframe Categories

Best Story in Before

Midday Darkness // The Light is Me, I Am The Light by Ewok Poet​

The Prodigal Knight and the Tragic Cupcake by Findswoman​

Tales from the Lars Homestead by gaarastar58​

Schism by Jedi_Perigrine (withdrawn from competition author's request)​

Interludes by K'tai qel Letta-Tanku​

Best Story in PT

Don't Be Afraid of the Dark by divapilot​

Letters Never Sent by Ewok Poet​

C1D by GregMcP​

The end of all things by Pandora​

Life Among the Ashes by taramidala​

Best Story in OT

"Dear Mr. and Mrs. Solo" by divapilot​

The Black Star by Ewok Poet​

Star Crossed by Raissa Baiard​

Lightforce by Suzannah.Pearce​

Hard Time by Thumper09​

Best Story in ST

Black Rapier by Aiel​

To Finish What He Began by darth_treyvah​

Bad Romance by divapilot​

And Then There Were None by Glor​

Island Surprise by Sith-I-5​

Best Story in Beyond

Counting Stars by Dantana Skywalker​

Seasons of Migration to the North by divapilot​

The Map of the Dead by Ewok Poet​

Things Fall Apart by Irish_Jedi_Jade​

A Year in the Life: The Deepest Note is the Cobalt Sky by JadeLotus​

Storyline Categories

Best Continuity-Compliant Story

The Face Behind the Helmet by CheckSix & gaarastar58​

My Awakening by darth_treyvah​

A Rough Trade by Ewok Poet​

The Book of Gand by Findswoman​

Madonna Under the Suns by Vongchild​

Best Alternate Universe

Tale As Old As Time by aleja2​

Emerging from Shadows by Cushing's Admirer​

Lord Vader's Limpet by frodogenic​

The Broken Boy and the Blind Master by gaarastar58​

The end of all things by Pandora​

Best Legends Story

The Lonely Goddess by Briannakin​

Two Girls and a Man in Red by Findswoman​

Lord Vader's Limpet by frodogenic​

Life Among the Ashes by taramidala​

The Graverobbers of Alderaan by whiskers​

Best New Canon Story

And Then There Were None by Glor​

The Light From Alderaan by MandrinaQ​

From Out of the Darkness by mavjade​

Hobbie's Law by Mistress_Renata​

Lightforce by Suzannah.Pearce​

Best New Canon/Legends Mash-Up

My Dearest Luke by Briannakin​

Awake And Arise by Dantana Skywalker​

Seasons of Migration to the North by divapilot​

Recruited by Lane_Winree​

Star Crossed by Raissa Baiard​

Length Categories

Best One-Shot

Don't Be Afraid of the Dark by divapilot​

EP's Neck of the Woods: Radiophonic Heart by Ewok Poet​

Between the Porch and the Altar by Findswoman​

The Bitter Girl by leiamoody​

The Grey Book: Dutiful by Pandora​

Best Multi-Chapter Short Story

Seasons of Migration to the North by divapilot​

The Brightest of the Stars (When Teebo Met Latara) by Ewok Poet​

Two Girls and a Man in Red by Findswoman​

Tales from the Lars Homestead by gaarastar58​

Recruited by Lane_Winree​

Best Epic

Rage, rage against the dying of the light by AzureAngel2​

Meeting Your Destiny by Cynical_Ben​

Letters Never Sent by Ewok Poet​

Red Five by JadeLotus​

Lightforce by Suzannah.Pearce​

Best Series

The Dear Dairy Challenge: Being the Udderly Cheesy Adventures of Luke by Briannakin, Findswoman and Raissa Baiard​

Blood and Shadows by Cynical_Ben​

The Anjie Mencuri Series by Ewok Poet​

The Maya Qwan Series by Kurisan​

Letters of Life by mavjade​

Genre Categories

Best Action/Adventure

The Face Behind the Helmet by CheckSix & gaarastar58​

And Then There Were None by Glor​

The Dragon of Dagobah by Kurisan​

Hobbie's Law by Mistress_Renata​

The Graverobbers of Alderaan by whiskers​

Best Drama

Rage, rage against the dying of the light by AzureAngel2​

Word Gets Around by Briannakin​

Bad Romance by divapilot​

Midday Darkness // The Light is Me, I Am The Light by Ewok Poet​

Between the Porch and the Altar by Findswoman​

Best Humour

"Dear Mr. and Mrs. Solo" by divapilot​

Sai-perimetry at Gleebaloola's, You Bet! by Findswoman​

Lord Vader's Limpet by frodogenic​

The Wedding Trip by Hopefulwriter​

Island Surprise by Sith-I-5​

Best Romance

So Much More Than Fairytales: The Courtship of Prince Bail by Briannakin​

But One Hour Mine by divapilot​

The Prodigal Knight and the Tragic Cupcake by Findswoman​

A Year in the Life: The Deepest Note is the Cobalt Sky by JadeLotus​

Interludes by K'tai qel Letta-Tanku​

Character Categories

Best Interpretation of a Movie Character

Kylo Ren in My Awakening by darth_treyvah​

Cliegg Lars in Tales from the Lars Homestead by gaarastar58​

C-3PO in The Wedding Trip by Hopefulwriter​

Sabé in Life Among the Ashes by taramidala​

Beru Whitesun Lars in Madonna Under the Suns by Vongchild​

Best Interpretation of an EU Character

Winter Retrac Celchu in The Lonely Goddess by Briannakin​

Fives in The Face Behind the Helmet by CheckSix & gaarastar58​

Anakin Solo in Driving Lord Vader by frodogenic​

Mara Jade in We're the Same Here Always by leia​

Jacen Solo in Warrior Queen by SiouxFan​

Best Development of a Game Character

Female Revan/Katts Rzewanczkowski in The Prodigal Knight and the Tragic Cupcake by Findswoman​

Torian Cadera in Finding My Way Back by SabyneAmberle​

Starkiller in Whiskers' One-Shots: LucasArt Drabbles – Part 2 by whiskers​

Kyle Katarn in Dark Forces: Rogue Mission by whiskers​

Jan Ors in Dark Forces: Rogue Mission by whiskers​

Best Original Character

Kash Ferros in But One Hour Mine by divapilot​

Lil in Letters Never Sent by Ewok Poet​

Telfien Viurraanvi in The Book of Gand by Findswoman​

Master Forgo in The Broken Boy and the Blind Master by gaarastar58​

Mathilda Taafe in Something is shining like gold, but better by Pandora​

Best Villain/Antagonist

Sheev Palpatine in Rage, rage against the dying of the light by AzureAngel2​

Aurra Sing in Word Gets Around by Briannakin​

Armitage Hux in Bad Romance by divapilot​

Roula of Pelayn in Midday Darkness // The Light is Me, I Am The Light by Ewok Poet​

Master Davip in Schism by Jedi_Perigrine (withdrawn from competition author's request)​

Relationship Categories

Best Established Relationship

Bail Organa & Breha Antilles in So Much More Than Fairytales: The Courtship of Prince Bail by Briannakin​

Teebo & Latara in The Brightest of the Stars (When Teebo Met Latara) by Ewok Poet​

R2-D2 & C-3PO in The Wedding Trip by Hopefulwriter​

Luke Skywalker & Mara Jade in Things Fall Apart by Irish_Jedi_Jade​

Kyle Katarn & Jan Ors in Dark Forces: Rogue Mission by whiskers​

Best Original Relationship

Kes Dameron & Poe Dameron in Black Rapier by Aiel​

Zuckuss Ng’xvi-Ta’al-Lhúd & Telfien Viurraanvi in The Book of Gand by Findswoman​

K'Tai qel Letta-Tanku & Obi-Wan Kenobi in Interludes by K'tai qel Letta-Tanku​

Kess Antilles & Poe Dameron in Hobbie's Law by Mistress_Renata​

Mara Jade Blayne & Ezra Bridger in Star Crossed by Raissa Baiard​

Other

Most Headsplode Moment

Bail reading the succession laws to Breha in So Much More Than Fairytales: The Courtship of Prince Bail by Briannakin​

Chewbacca playing secretary for Han using Holoogle Translate in "Dear Mr. and Mrs. Solo" by divapilot​

Luke meeting the man who plays him on TV (and who is now engaged to an ex of his) in A Year in the Life: The Deepest Note is the Cobalt Sky by JadeLotus​

The idea of Jawas with the hots for each other! Their mating call is "hey!" followed by the seductive yap of a sexy (!?) Jawa male in The Grey Book: Getting It On by Pandora​

Mara Jade turning up in a bikini on Skellig Island in Island Surprise by Sith-I-5​

Author Categories

Best Author in Before

ardavenport​

Ewok Poet​

gaarastar58​

Jedi_Perigrine (voluntarily withdrawn from competition)​

K'Tai qel Letta-Tanku​

Best Author in Saga

Briannakin​

divapilot​

Ewok Poet​

Pandora​

Raissa Baiard​

Best Author in Beyond

Annia Piet​

Briannakin​

Dantana Skywalker​

Irish_Jedi_Jade​

Onderon1​

Best New Author

Anedon​

Glor​

Hopefulwriter​

Kurisan​

Suzannah.Pearce​

Most Versatile Author

Briannakin​

divapilot​

Ewok Poet​

Findswoman​

gaarastar58​

 

Timeframe Categories

Best Story in Before

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Midday Darkness // The Light is Me, I Am The Light by Ewok Poet

After having been falsely accused of a number of things he had not done, Dyeke is sent to the penal colony on Sacorria’s neighbouring, terraformed world of Noleria. During the night, the inmates are tortured with light. During the day, they have to willingly submit into their own brainwashing process.

The jobs were not hard – we were not given typical droid tasks, it wasn’t physically exhausting. On the contrary, everything was highly repetitive. I was tasked with subtitling the historic speeches of the previous incarnation of the Triad. I was required to do it in Drallish, while the albino Selonian, whose name was Wake, was doing that in the other two languages. After we subtitled twenty of them, we got the first speech again, under an excuse that it was a mistake. However, the time we recognised the second one, we were sure that this was being done on purpose. We first shrugged it off and saw the whole round of twenty repeat itself. Wake joked that we’ll get everything once again and, sadly, he was right.

The third time around, after we were told that the datacard was corrupted, the task was tedious – listening to the Ruusan Reformation speech in the seventh of the twenty holovids was becoming so predictable that I was sure that I knew every word of it by heart – yes, we accepted the Galactic Standard Hour. Yes, we accepted the length of the standard year. No, we don’t want to name the days of the week after whatever was significant to Coruscant.

We ended up transcribing the speeches a total of seven times. This was their way to force us into complete obedience. And I am sure that they managed to break most of us. Me? I learned to act like I was more obedient, but below the surface, underneath the mask, I remained cynical. My world had shattered the moment I saw how it works and my faith in system disappeared when Roula’s revenge turned my life upside down – there were no illusions to feed and clothe anymore.

[…]

I managed to escape the danger of having too much time on my hands. With twelve hours of forced labour, ten to draw and ten to sleep, I remained safe from possible fights. Those who fought would often be taken to solitary confinement, where they had to sit in a room with their eyes glued open, their hands tied behind their backs and large headphones in their ears. They were, of course, going through repeated read-throughs and audio narrations of the Book of Law. And it was us, the well-behaved inmates who would often be tasked with reading right into their headphones, from the safety of a nearby isolated chamber. One would think that nobody wanted to do it – but we were rewarded with the ability to sleep in a completely dark room, meals that contained salt, herbs, sugar and spices instead of the usual bland meal and a nutritional supplement where the taste of everything that made any food good was masked. On one occasion, I even got a piece of dust corn bread with angleberry jam on top of it. I didn’t even want to ask my supervisor how come that a banned fruit made it back to our system – the answer could have as well landed me into solitary confinement.

During these readings, our voices were never obscured and modified. Despite that, the punished inmates would never seek revenge on those who were reading to them. They knew that each fight meant more and more reading. However, there were instances of inmates destroying their belongings or committing self-injury solely to be placed into the solitary confinement and listen to the collection of the values and doctrine forced upon us all over again. Becoming fanatics. In such cases, they would disappear after their solitary confinement.

---

The Prodigal Knight and the Tragic Cupcake by Findswoman

Revan (whose real name, in this universe, is Katts Rzewanczkowski) and the Ebon Hawk crew catch Carth Onasi in the act of slicing into the ship’s communication system. To what end? Weeeeell...

I thought nothing of it at the time, of course. The Hawk was by no means a new ship, and its communications systems did indeed have the occasional tendency to, as he said, “fritz.” But when he asked Mission for another computer spike the next day, and then another that afternoon—that’s when I began to wonder. And when I heard furious astromech-droid bleeping from behind his door, interspersed with exclamations like “No, T3, that’s not it!”—that’s when I really started to suspect something.

Was Cmdr. Carth “Sad Mooka Pup” Onasi, of all people, trying to slice into the ship’scommunications system? And why?

I found out one fateful, torrid Tatooine afternoon, after coming back from that dreadful business with the GenoHaradan (remind me never again to agree to anything that requires me to go alone out to the Dune Sea). The others were all clustered around the closed door to Carth’s quarters, whispering to each other: “What’s he doing?,” “How should I know,” “Do you think she knows?,” “No idea,” “GRRRAHRRR,” and so forth. All the while, a blurred hodgepodge of static, electrical crackles, and indistinct speech-like noises was emanating from behind the door.

I came closer. The strange sounds behind the door increased in loudness and intensity with each passing second, as did the murmurs of my colleagues. It was when I heard “Prediction: The master is going to be most displeased” that I decided to speak up.

“All right, HK. Better tell me what I’m going to be ‘most displeased’ about.”

“Apology: Master, I should not have been so presumptuous. Given the near-impossibility of correlating meatbag emotional reactions with any degree of certainty—”

“Yes, yes, yes, fine. What’s going on here?”

“Repsonse: Master, we are concerned about Commander Onasi’s recent behavior. He has not emerged from this room since you left for the Dune Sea. Rumor: he may be attempting to slice into the ship’s communications system.”

Well, tell me something I didn’t already know, I almost said. But I didn’t. “Any idea why?”

“Hypothesis: We believe he may be trying to retrieve a comm frequency from the restricted section of the memory banks. To what end, however—”

“YOU GUYS! LISTEN!” Mission’s shrill voice cut in. “HE’S GOT SOMETHING!”

We all fell silent and listened. Behind the door, a steady, high-pitched beeeeeep now pierced the static and crackling. There was a cry of “Great job, T3! You did it!” Then the beep gave way to static, and then to a voice—a gruff, older human male voice that uttered a curt “’Myello?”

“Uh, yes, hello . . .” Carth began. “Is this Mr., uh, Stanislauff, uh, Err-zeeww... anks... kowski?”

And then I froze in sheer horror, for it dawned on me exactly what this tragic cupcake was doing.

He was comming my dad.

---

Tales from the Lars Homestead by gaarastar58

In this excerpt Owen comes across his father outside the Lars Homestead, and forms part of an introduction to a story about Cliegg's brother, who died in their childhood.

Owen Lars ducked beneath the low hanging door to the Lars homestead and looked out across the vast expanse of desert. The Jundland Wastes stretched away from him like a brown sea, complete with rippling waves were the wind had swept the sand into furrows. The first of Tatooine’s twin suns was rising, casting its light across the plain to where his father sat in front of a row of grave markers near the homestead. The chill of the desert night hung in the air and Owen blew into his hands to warm them as he walked up to stand beside his father. Cliegg’s head was bowed, staring down at the plain headstone which marked the place of Shmi Skywalker’s final resting place. It had been nearly a year since she had been taken from them but Cliegg’s grief still showed no signs of abating, and Owen doubted he would be able to move on until he stopped blaming himself for her death.

‘The desert takes everything from us,’ said Cliegg without looking up, and Owen now saw that he was staring not at Shmi’s grave but at a smaller headstone, the one belonging to Cliegg’s fourteen-year-old brother. The stone bore a simple inscription:

Edern Lars​

Beloved Son and Brother​

Cliegg had never spoken of his brother to Owen. If not for the marker, he would not have known he had existed. Grief hung around his father’s shoulders like a thick outback cloak, tangling him with the weight of memory and loss. Owen wished that he could turn away from it but he stayed by his father’s side while the dawn rays spread across the plain, turning everything they touched into gold. The shadows of the grave markers stretched like long black fingers behind them.

‘I should have taken better care of you,’ said Cliegg, staring down at his brother’s headstone and Owen saw that he had tears in his eyes. They streamed down his face and melted into his coarse beard. Owen turned and walked back to the house. There was nothing he could do to reach his father when he was like this. He paused in the doorway and looked back at the man who for most of his life had been indomitable. He looked small now, a hunched figure staring into his own past, burdened by guilt.

---

Schism by Jedi_Perigrine
(removed from competition at author's request)

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Interludes by K'tai qel Letta-Tanku

“Interludes” is about how Obi-Wan and K’Tai first meet and those times during “Getting to Know You” when they are able to spend time together in the same place.

"Master?"

"Yes Padawan?" Qui-Gon quickly glanced over at his protege. The young man was climbing ahead of him, his focus on finding the next hand-hold on the rock face.

Obi-Wan paused a moment, drawing in a breath and pushing off the rock face as he simultaneously reached for the next hold above him. Catching it with his fingertips, he planted his feet against the cliff. "How is it that when we go on holiday, we still end up working?" The teen pulled himself up, toes finding purchase on a small ledge.

Qui-Gon chuckled under his breath. "I assume you refer to our little escapade in the market this morning and not our present circumstances."

"I was actually referring to both, but we can start with the market place." His muscles were starting to burn with the exertion of climbing. "After the chase we gave this morning, I thought something a bit less taxing might be on the agenda for this afternoon."

"I thought you wanted to see the Vespian Moon Flower."

"I do."

"Then quit talking and climb." Qui-Gon stretched for his next hold. "And the answer to your question is the Force works in mysterious ways." He felt his padawan's raised eyebrow in response. He didn't dare look at it just then, as he needed to focus entirely on the rock in front of him.
------
Peace, padawan, Qui-Gon said through their bond. The boys eyes fluttered as he fought against the healing trance. Qui-Gon moved closer and laid a hand on Obi-Wan's arm. Don't fight it. Let them help you.

A groggy hint of animal instinct, to fight with all one's being, wafted through the Force.

The healers aren't your opponents, my young friend.

-------
As they approached a small boy who had been hurt when the cart he had been driving over turned and pinned him, K’Tai felt a shift in Obi-Wan’s emotions and a quick flash of something elusive in the Force. She turned to see him attempting to stand and walk.

“Excuse me,” she said. She then marched over to the padawan who was struggling to find his balance. She reached out with the Force and held him in place, as much to keep him from falling over and hurting himself as anything else.

“Just what in the name of Unity do you think you are doing?! Get off that leg before you do something asinine and end up back in a full healing trance!”

Obi-Wan was defiant. “I feel better, and I need to use the ‘fresher,” he stated. “I’ve been confined to bed for well over a week. I need to move.”

“Oh really? I've got news for you. That’s the pain block talking. You have no idea how your body really feels right now. Trust me. It isn't ready for this. Get back in the bed.” By this time K’Tai was standing in front of him, her arms folded over her chest. When he didn’t move, she added, “Get back in the bed or I will put you there.”

“I’d like to see you try.” He crossed his arms over his chest the best he could with the left one in a cast and tried to look intimidating.

 

Best Story in PT

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Don't Be Afraid of the Dark by divapilot

Mirany returns home to discover that her lover, Kash, a Jedi on the run from Order 66, is gone.

When Mirany returned to their small apartment she found the door improperly closed; not how Kash would have left it. He valued their security far too much.

She entered the room slowly, her nerves tingling. The lights didn’t come on automatically like they usually did. She felt her way into the room, pressing her right hand against the wall and reaching out with her left hand. “Kash?” she shout-whispered. She trembled, afraid of what she might find hidden in the ominous darkness. She moved into the room and her foot kicked something in the shadows.

She looked down and made out the object in the dimness. A broken piece of chair.

Her heart pounded. Her right hand found the manual switch for the lighting, and she pressed it. The room burst into illumination and the disaster became manifest.

“Kash?” Her voice wavered. She knew nobody would answer.

Stunned, she slowly turned around the room, surveying the scene. The rest of the broken chair lay against the wall. Larger items were out of place or tipped over, and small items, mementos of their brief life together, lay strewn like chaff on the faded green carpet. Mirany steeled herself and slowly entered the other room of their apartment. The bed, usually neatly made up, looked as if it had been ripped apart. She picked up a blanket from the bed and stared at the dark stain that wasn’t there this morning. Mirany touched the stain. It was cold and dry. The fabric cracked stiffly where the stain saturated through. Her breath came out in quick short pants. “Kash,” she whispered. “Oh, Kash.”

She sat on the bed and clung to the stained blanket. It wasn’t a big stain but it was big enough. If they killed him, he would have bled more, right? she thought. This was an injury, but not necessarily a fatal one. From the location on the bed, it seemed that they had struck him in the head. He must have kept fighting --that would explain the damage in the other room-- so they didn’t kill him. But then they took him.

They took him.

She tightened her grip around the blanket as her other hand clamped her mouth. She forced the panic down.

They took him.

Mirany swallowed hard and tried to think. She had to find him, get him back to her. She needed him, needed him even more now that she was–

No. She could only process one event at a time.

It suddenly occurred to her that maybe this apartment, so fatal to -no, don’t think like that. He isn’t dead. They took him but that doesn’t mean they killed him – so dangerous for Kash, might be dangerous for her, too. She stood up, still clutching the blanket, and looked around. The blood was old; this had happened hours ago, while she was still at work. Then it occurred to her that whoever did this could still be watching the apartment. They knew where to find him; they would know he didn’t live alone.

---

Letters Never Sent by Ewok Poet

Lil, a mysterious male Drall from Sacorria, escapes the planet and travels the Corellian Sector. On Aurea, he gets accepted to the Mardri Soulworks Collective and moves into his own bubble at the Arcology. In the morning, he talks to a particularly strange artist apprentice from Naboo, Damaé Hoove.

The bubbles in the residential part of the gigantic building, which is the triangle formed by the sides and the horizontal bar of the High Galactic letter Aurek, they…move at night! They are closed off automatically and equipped with just about enough air and then, the space fills with water otherwise travelling through the outside pipes on the edges of the arcology during the day, in order to power gardens and orchards. Once the water is inside, a wind-powered turbine moves the bubbles around the corridors and creates a stunning display of blue light visible all the way from Crysallia. This way, the whole building functions like a giant work of art and a miniature power plant that makes enough energy for 3-4 days. All energy that is not spent is accumulated in gigantic underground batteries, to be used in case there is an eclipse or some cataclysm. If the end of the life as we know it came upon us, the ten thousand residents of the Mardri Soulworks Collective arcology would live for ten more years.

Know what? The Sacorrian Triad has nothing on the Mardri Soulworks Collective. Nothing.

Or maybe they do – silence. The sound of the water kicking in the first night and the realisation that I’m probably tumbling over and spinning around, regardless of the very same gravity stabilisers used in spaceships keeping everything in my bubble normal…that was definitely a new experience. It reminded me of something, but I’m not quite sure what it is.

In the morning, my bubble landed next to Damaé's. I didn't understand what she did to prove her qualities, but she invited me for caf. Then she went on about this Imperial Admiral whom she just met. A true authority, she said. She met him around the time she came here, which was weeks before me. He had a task of shipping important cargo to the Eternal Furnace. I asked her if she had an idea what it was.

Her response was a single word: livestock.

Didn't take me long to realise that this was the way this new system calls most of the non-Humans. That man was sending the crustacean slaves to possible death. That kind of authority is far worse than anything I have ever seen...and I have seen a lot. I hate it. I despise it.

But young Comr… Mistress Damaé Hoove, she loves it. New comes with promises. New comes with propaganda. New is instantly better. New will kick the old in the rear. Oh, and she has this authority obsession. I'd even call it authority fetish. Ewww. She would probably propose to Roula of Pelayn instantly.

I asked her what happened between her and the Admiral. They went on to exchange messages through HoloNet, using what was otherwise an internal communication tool of the Galactic Empire. He had a mission to a planet named Kashyyyk in the Mid Rim, but she had no idea why. She didn't care, either. In the end, she imagegrabbed a propaganda poster idea she created herself and sent the result to him. Selonians are fur-covered insects, it said. She would like to see them relegated to non-sentients, just like the crustaceans and the Kashyyyk species. I tried to tell her something. It didn't work. She had a whole theory about hive minds being a proof of lower intelligence. Her Admiral said so, too - and he knows things.

---

C1D by GregMcP

C1D, a B1 battledroid, is activated when his cruiser is attacked by Republican Clone Troopers. He marches into the fight in the first moments of his life, and receives unexpected orders.

Battle Droid Serial # 0x002E 45A8 4C1D was born to the sound of klaxons blaring. He unfurled from his foetal ball as the rack of his storage container rolled him to the front for release. Hands unlocking, releasing his thin tubular legs, limbs stretching, head up, eyes and ears and radio activated. He performed a brief firmware check. Power at 100%, all servos operating. Senses all functional. Blaster fully charged. And then there was that moment of puzzlement and euphoria that all beings experience when they are suddenly brought to life. I live.

---

The end of all things by Pandora

It was, according to the antique gold chrono Amidala insisted on setting on Coruscant time, nearly midmorning in the senate district, so Dormé went into the study to make contact with Moteé. She used the voice-only connection that had been reconfigured for Amidala’s grandmother—it was ancient, nearly a thousand years old, but it still worked, and Moteé would know to answer it. She was living in the apartments at 500 Imperial—and officially, she was there as the Lady Vader, with Lissé in attendance as her handmaiden. Captain Typho had suggested that last in order to make the act at least somewhat convincing. The same thought had obviously not occurred to Amidala.

Of course, Amidala’s husband, Lord Vader, knew Moteé (a woman whose name he had never bothered to learn) was only a decoy-doll set up in his wife’s place. But Dormé suspected that the majority of the people around them knew, or at the least suspected, the same thing—after all, the decoy plan had been one of the many secrets Ellé, that traitor, that bitch, had revealed, through that sludge reporter, to an audience of millions of persons.

But Amidala had always favored it, and perhaps from habit, she continued to do so—even when it was common knowledge that she was living in her Lake Country retreat. Dormé had wondered about her reasoning, but she had learned not to bother Amidala with any questions.

(It had always seemed somewhat off that Amidala, the woman known as the figurehead of the people, had used the decoy plan so much—especially considering how many versions of her had died, most of them women who Dormé had never met, but still somehow knew. She had made excuses for her lady then. But now, oh now, it made perfectly obvious sense.)

Moteé answered a second after the third ring. Her voice had a static-growl fuzz to it when she said: You know, I might have been out.

Dormé didn’t bother with her preferred response to that—Moteé had to stay hidden inside the apartment while Lissé managed their errands. The Lady Vader was known to keep to herself. “Of course, milady. I can only apologize for not thinking of that. How have you been?”

There was a long paused silent moment, and then Moteé spoke again. Well enough. Oh, I have on this wonderful frock that came with the last shipment. You ought to see it.

Dormé remained silent, though she wanted to say it so badly she could feel the words heaped inside her mouth: Don’t be sarcastic, Moteé. It doesn’t become you. “Yes, milady. But since we are on that topic, I was wondering how Lissé is working out for you.”

I see, Moteé’s voice said. You think I could use another girl to help out.

“Yes,” Dormé said. “While, of course, I shouldn’t speak out of turn, I must say that it doesn’t do for a lady of your standing to have only one attendant. I shall send Padmé over with the next embassy transport. She should be arriving in another two weeks.”

Oh, of course, Moteé said. Padmé was the name Amidala had used when she played the role of a mere handmaiden during her royal terms—and it was also her birthname. It had been over a year since she had made a trip to Coruscant, and Dormé did not know why she had decided to return now to reclaim the place Moteé was filling for her. But she suspected it had been inspired by that last call with her husband—Lord Vader’s voice did still have that whining edge with her.

---

Life Among the Ashes by taramidala

 

Best Story in OT

---

"Dear Mr. and Mrs. Solo" by divapilot

Ben Solo’s elementary school teacher tries desperately to get Han and Leia to acknowledge their son’s increasingly erratic and inappropriate behavior. Here, Aline vents to her husband about her frustrations, and she enlists the help of the school psychologist.

Private Message
To: Wrin Stoa
From: Aline Stoa

Hi sweetheart – Can’t wait until holiday break! We are so busy at school – the kids are going to be doing the glow stick activity soon and I know how much they love it. Even my little guy who gives me the hard time is excited. He said he wants to make a glow stick just like his grandpa used to have. How sweet!

I know I talk about my kiddos too much. When I get home tonight, let’s get some dinner and go shopping.

Love ya! Ali

***

To: J. Ooesa, school psychologist
From: A. Stoa, classroom teacher
Hey, Jorrash – Remember the student I told you about? I think we need to do some more intensive interventions. His behaviour isn’t really improving with the behaviour contract. I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind doing a cognitive screening and maybe a psych eval? I’d appreciate it!

It was good to see you at the party last week. That goomana dip you made was amazing!

Thx, Aline

***

To: Aline Stoa
From: J. Ooesa, school psychologist

Hi Aline – I did the screenings like you asked. It was challenging working with Ben S. I’ve attached the results but here are the highlights.

Intellectual screening– Ben’s a bright kid. However, the test is developed to be increasingly difficult, and the kids are supposed to meet a point where the problems get too hard for them. But in Ben’s case, when the questions got harder, he got more frustrated. Then, I got a piercing headache and I closed my eyes for a minute. When I checked the results, Ben had all the questions correct. Not sure how he did that. I may have to recalibrate the assessment.

Creative thinking: He seems pretty solid here. I gave him the two-color flimsiplat to color a design on and he didn’t want to use the white side like I expected him to. He flipped it over to the back to color. He said he likes the dark side better. That looks like pretty out-of-the box thinking to me.

Psych eval.: I ran a whole evaluation on the boy. I say he’s fine, he’s just really immature. He acts like a spoiled eight year old. I’m sure he’ll outgrow it.

***

Private Message
To: Wrin Stoa
From: Aline Stoa

Hi Honey – Boy, what a day. That little boy I told you about threw a table today. HE THREW A TABLE! I thought the things were bolted down. But at least nobody got hurt. He is really getting to be a handful. Then he grabbed a bucket of building blocks, dumped them on the ground, and put the bucket on his head claiming it was a helmet. I’m getting really tired of that.

I’ve been thinking – we should go away when I go on holiday. I think it would be nice and relaxing. What about a beach vacation?

Love, Ali

---

The Black Star by Ewok Poet

Doria Vorr, a young girl leading a quite miserable life on Sacorria, descends into chaos when her academic plans are intentionally altered, neighbours are murdered, Duchess Branna and Gredda are missing, her mother killed a Stormtrooper and she must help the Rebel musician Charon San Valorum escape her totalitarian planet.

"Dead…dead…dead…" She had counted twenty-three bodies by now. She was trying her best to appear calm, despite her urge to pass out and her wish to just run away from everything and scream her lungs out. But she was stuck with a comrade with bounty placed on his head – he must have seen a lot of it.

“Is anybody missing?” Charon asked.

“There is no Duchess Branna herself and…there is no Ebe, the youngest R’vanye. Of course, there’s no Gredda, either… my best friend…a great comradette. She had received an important work-related offer this morning and she departed for Corellia on the first available shuttle. So she couldn’t have been here. Unless it was a joke. Let’s check out her room. She was known to withdraw from parties.”

Seconds later, they were in Gredda’s room. There was a mess, typical from somebody who had packed in a hurry. There were no signs of fight. A lot of datacards and gadgets were arranged on a desk, with some more of them in the drawer.

“And this is normal to you?” Charon was observing what looked like an extremely outdated comm link. “Your friend departs, her whole family is killed, the Duchess is missing from the crime scene and Doloria was sent for me?”

Doria didn’t manage to respond. Something was moving underneath the desk.

“Watch out!” Charon yelled. She turned around and came face to face with an E-11 blaster rifle.

"Freeze!"

A red-haired woman came out of the armoire with a stunned Drall youngling in her arms. The hand she was holding the blaster in was shaking and she did not seem to know how to use it. Nevertheless, Charon raised his hands.

“Is that you, Doria? You’re screaming like a deranged avian in a soup pot!”

"M-mom?" Doria was surprised. "Are you trying to kill me?"

"I will stop trying to kill you when this young man stops trying to kill me!"

"What?" Charon had obviously had enough for the day. "Is this your mother? Did she kill all these people?"

"Comradette Maris Inesedam-Vorr to you. And this is Ebe.” Maris pointed to the youngling with the tube of the blaster, to Doria and Charon’s horror. “He is alive. I had to stun him so he would not give us away. And I only killed the one over there!” She pointed to the armoire she was hiding in. Inside there was a body of an Imperial Stormtrooper. “I was putting Ebe to sleep, as Kutya asked me to help with the younglings. And…”

"Okay…comradette Maris, we need to get out of here. Immediately. I know Sacorrians have a thing for waiting for the law enforcement, but once the riots are over and somebody calls the police, they will be likely to kill us too and add us to the death toll.”

“Riots? What riots? Doria, did you do something?” Charon nearly laughed as Maris, still playing nervously with the E-11, posed this bizarre question to her daughter.

“You don’t understand your own planet! Kriff this! Just get me out of here to wherever you live before somebody finds us!” He grabbed Maris’ rifle and pointed it at her. “Now.”

Maris shrugged and showed him the power pack in her hand.

“Whoever you are, you are stupid, you sure swear a lot and you have never taken a Progressive Self-Defense class. Then again, neither did this deadbeat daughter of mine.” She rolled her eyes and spat on the dead Stormtrooper. “Still better than this monster who kills unarmed younglings and the elderly.”

---

Star Crossed by Raissa Baiard

In this AU, Ezra Bridger meets a young Mara Jade who was never discovered by the Empire. Here, they escape from a pair of Trandoshan bounty hunters and a Hutt's enforcer who are pursuing them.

Ezra climbed onto the barrel of sand maggots and boosted Mara to the top of the speeder truck as the thumping from the cantina grew louder and more insistent. Though the durasteel door shook with the blows, it stayed shut...until one of the goons finally shot it and it juddered open a crack, wide enough for a scaly hand to emerge. Ezra clambered up onto the truck and jumped to the cantina’s roof, holding out a hand to Mara. “Let’s go!”

She took it, and sprang to the roof next to him. “This way!”

Below, one of the Trandoshans wedged his shoulder into the gap and forced the door open. “Go on; I’m right behind you!” Ezra thumbed the setting of his blaster to stun, aimed, and fired. The bounty hunter crumpled into a heap, blocking the door. A string of profanities in Huttese echoed from the cantina into the alley. Ezra grinned. One down. He turned to catch up with Mara...who was waiting for him with her own blaster drawn.

“Did you really think I’d go off without you? Come on,” she said. “The spaceport’s this way.” She took off across the flat roof at a sprint; when she reached the edge, she leapt with the grace of a bounding sabercat, landing neatly on the other side. Ezra stared. Dance lessons… he thought, incongruously. Mara turned around, the hint of a challenge in her eyes. “Coming?”

“Right.” He ran and jumped across, landing cleanly, but with considerably less grace than she had. A scrabbling noise behind them alerted them to the second Trandoshan’s pursuit seconds before his blaster bolt sizzled past. Without another word, they ran.

Running from bounty hunters and Hutt-thugs should not have been fun, but it was. It was exhilarating. Maybe it was the fact that, from up here, it felt exactly like all the years he’d spent running over the rooftops on Lothal. Maybe he was just running on sheer adrenaline. Or maybe it was having Mara running next to him, fleet as a gallaze, her red-gold braid flying after her like a shooting star. Ezra sensed a fierce elation in her presence that echoed his own crazy euphoria. They ran together in the Force, cutting a wild zig-zagging path around antennas and vents, chimneys and vaporators, vaulting across the gaps between the buildings without stopping.

The thug from the cantina was neither fast nor nimble, and was soon clutching his sides, panting. The Trandoshan was in better shape, charging after them and taking potshots that dinged antennas and cracked vaporators, sending up plumes of steam, but he still was no match for a pair of reckless Force-powered Jedi. Ezra didn’t know the bounty hunter, too, fell behind until Mara stopped. “We did it!” she shouted, throwing her hands up in triumph. “We made it to the spaceport!”

He leapt down with a whoop, then turned to catch Mara as she jumped down after him. Still punchy from their wild run, Ezra swung her around, laughing. Mara’s green eyes sparkled and her laughter joined his. He was suddenly aware of her warmth against him, her arms twined around his neck. He set her down with an awkward laugh, letting go…but Mara’s hands still rested on his shoulders. She smiled up at him, with the same devastating smile she’d given him that morning. Ezra’s heart was pounding with more than adrenaline. He leaned towards her.

Their lips met.

For that moment, the Galaxy was only the two of them, while the Force hummed around them.

---

Lightforce by Suzannah.Pearce

Trying to save Han from certain death, Leia submits to the horror of the new improved interrogation droid, inducing the force vision and calling her brother to help her before she, herself, is killed.

Leia closed her eyes against Han's distress. If she couldn't prevent him from witnessing what was about to happen, she could at least block him out and pretend he was somewhere else. Fairly soon she wouldn't be able to see anyway, maybe wouldn't remember he existed. The liquid hallucinogens and nerve toxins were circulating, freezing cold in her veins and soon the pain would begin. The despair in his eyes told her he didn't understand why she had done this, why she couldn't let him continue his gallant self-sacrifice, but her training in resistance techniques had helped her the last time and, perhaps, even her Force abilities, both of which he lacked. He would certainly die but she held a small glimmer of hope that she could endure the pain long enough for Luke to save them both.

She could hear Han yelling, somewhere in the distance as the mind altering drugs took away the control of her limbs and she struggled to remain standing. LUKE, she thought her brother's name into nowhere. He would come for her whether it was a trap or not so, before she lost her mind as well, there was something she wanted to do...

... LEIA. I'M COMING. HOLD ON. Luke answered. She snapped her eyes open just as the second needle entered her arm, injecting her with the all too familiar pain serum, a chemical burn appearing at the entry site.

Her muscles spasmed involuntarily, making her body rigid, her face contorting with pain. She could hear herself screaming now. Every nerve in her body felt like it had been dipped in acid and set alight, an inferno searing up her arm and burning every synapse in her brain. Either the pain or the hallucinogens, one or the other, brought on the vision.

Temporarily free of the manacles, she fought her way through the smoke of Alderaan's past, stepping over the burning bodies of both Jedi and Sith alike. She moaned with deep-seated, unbearable pain and checked herself. No, it was her other self, back in the cell. Bile filled her mouth either from the pain or the smell of burning bodies. She could no longer tell the difference. The figure of the duke drifted into focus through the smoke and she headed towards him with purpose, grabbing her arm as the introduction of more toxins back in the cell caused the intense pain she had foreseen. Alderaan's destruction would soon be upon her and, when it happened, she was going to take the duke and the House of Thul with her as her ancestors had done. Stumbling and fighting to stand in the expected earthquake, she clutched the duke's uniform in a tight grip.

“You should join me, Vader's daughter. We could rule the galaxy together,” his voice echoed.

“I will die first and I'm taking you with me,” she heard herself savage.

As the ground opened up in her envisioned environment to swallow her in it's molten lava core, she pulled the duke with her, watching as their flesh began to burn. In her cell, her skin appeared to blister and she fought the hallucination in her mind as her body gave up. LUKE, HURRY.

---

Hard Time by Thumper09

The silence was deafening.

In turn, the deprivation– or overload– or both simultaneously– of such a favored sense was maddening.

Oh, sure, the Rebel Alliance claimed they didn’t practice torture. That was the official party line. It made for good PR. But this was proof-positive that they, in fact, did.

Flight Officer Quiver Yanilr paced in another tiny circle in the bland holding cell of the brig. His senses desperately needed something to do, and the one alcoholic drink he’d had right before getting thrown in there wasn’t nearly enough to dull them. But he was fortunate to be sharing this cell with his best friend; that and that alone guaranteed he wouldn’t go stir-crazy in there with nothing to do and no one to talk to.

It was well past time to take advantage of that. Quiver stopped, regarded his companion seated on a sleeping berth a meter away, took a deep breath, and yelled, "Aaaah!"

Flight Officer Darin Stanic jumped high enough at the outburst that Quiver considered asking if he was part repulsorlift. Darin snapped his eyes open, and the initial look of panic was instantly replaced by anger when he saw Quiver just standing there, obviously not being maimed or spontaneously combusting. "Quiver!" Darin yelled back. "What?"

Impressed that he’d gotten his wingman to actually raise his voice, Quiver took full advantage of the attention. He leaned back against the wall. "I’m bored, and it was too quiet."

Darin sputtered for a moment, apparently having too many things he wanted to say at once in response. He finally settled on looking at his wrist chrono and said, "We’ve been in here for all of ten minutes, and you’re bored?!"

"Yeah." Quiver kicked restlessly at the door to the cell. "And you were being boring just sitting there doing nothing."

"This is the first time all day I’ve had a chance to sit and do nothing, and I’m trying to take full advantage of it."

"But then it’s too quiet and boring," Quiver insisted. "Hey, I didn’t tell you what Presden told me in the mess hall today–"

"No. No no no," Darin cut him off. "No stories. Don’t talk to me. Just leave me alone for a while." He closed his eyes and rested his head against the wall.

<snip>

Quiver desperately grasped at anything he could use to occupy his mind during the interminable sameness. He counted his steps. Then he counted them using scattered, half-remembered numbers in alien languages. Then he ran through his list of better-remembered pick-up lines and curse words in alien languages. Then he paced backwards. He made up stories where he, the hero, was the one who made that trench run shot on the Death Star, and because he was a much better hero than reality had provided he even managed to fly to Imperial Center the day after and capture the Emperor, which ended the war and led to parades and statues and holidays in his honor...

Quiver had just gotten a new class of starship named after him for his wartime accomplishments when the accolades began to get redundant and boring. Besides, what good was a fun story like this if he couldn’t tell it? If only he could share it with Darin, it would grow exponentially and get better and better, but as it was, it felt limited and restricted in his mind and lost a lot of its luster and enjoyment.

 

Best Story in ST

---

Black Rapier by Aiel

Poe is preparing to leave the Starfleet Academy on his first official mission.

Sitting down in the pilot's chair, Poe looked around the cockpit as he placed his white helmet on the X-wing dashboard, he reached around clipped on his restraints, leaning forward and flicking on his flight computer, the required information and mission destination already programmed into the system.

Scanning over the details quickly on the computer screen with dark gaze, Poe then looked over his controls carefully. Memories came back to Dameron of memorising every inch of the X-wing T-65 style of cockpit when he was six years old, and little had changed in the design with the two models since.

Poe's eidetic memory currently had over a dozen styles of Rebellion and New Republic era pilot controls memorised since childhood, including the T-67B he currently occupied, the preferred layout for his training exercises involved this exact model.

The cadet pilot reached over and grabbed his white painted helmet, placing it on his head and adjusting the yellow visor, before clipping together the strap under under his chin. Poe then reached over and flicked a switch on the side of his dashboard, and the X-wing canopy lowered and locked into place.

Taking in a deep breath, Poe reached under his helmet and switched on his com-unit headset, moving the mic piece into place near the corner of his mouth. He glanced out of the corner of his eye at the personnel disengaging the boarding ladder and moving behind the X-wing to store the ladder in the cargo hold.

A small crackling came from the com-unit and General Antilles voice came over the speaker.

“Red Squadron, prepare to launch on my mark.”

Poe flicked on the start-up controls and the dashboard lit up, resting his booted feet on the pitch and roll pedals respectively, the young pilot grasped the primary controls in his gloved hands as he heard the hum of the starfighter's engine and felt its vibrations.

“Launch!” General Antilles crisp command rang out.

Poe moved the primary controls forward, his X-wing rising up into the air and the front and back hydraulic landing gear automatically rising up, locking into place inside the ship's belly.

Gliding the hovering ship towards the exit, Poe manoeuvred his X-wing across the hanger bay and towards the upwards facing exit, leaving the hanger bay behind as he and the rest of Red squadron shot out from the Starfleet base and flew up and out of the stratosphere of Centax-1.

(One of Coruscant's moons. The former Clone War era garrison had been refurbished into the New Republic Starfleet's main base of operations, and the location of the Starfleet Academy, soon after the formation of the New Republic.)

Poe pulled back on the controls, straightening his flight path as Red Squadron assembled above Centax-1.

“This is Red Leader. All wings report in.” General Antilles directed.

“Red Two, standing by.” Poe signed in.

“Red Three, standing by.”

“Red Four, standing by.”

The remaining six Red squadron pilots all chimed in their confirmation.

“All right. Jump to hyperspace on my mark.” General Antilles ordered.

Poe rested his hand on the hyperdrive control and awaited General Antilles order.

“Punch it.” The command came through.

Pressing the hyperdrive control, Poe leaned back as his sleek starfighter leapt into hyperspace, the ship steadying itself under his steady control and the cadet let out a sigh.

This is what I was born to do. Dameron thought as the empty swirl of hyperspace passed him by.

I belong out here. At the controls of an X-wing. I can't imagine ever doing anything with my life.

---

To Finish What He Began by darth_treyvah

---

Bad Romance by divapilot

In this AU, Breha Solo, Han and Leia’s daughter, has married Armitage Hux. He is home on leave, and on his wife’s suggestion he stops in to see his daughter, Marielle.

The child looked up, her pale blue eyes a perfect copy of her father’s. She leapt from her chair and ran over to him. Her red-streaked brown hair was held back with a broad blue ribbon, and she wore a yellow dress with little flowers embroidered on it in the Naboo style. He made a mental note to himself send the child proper clothing. He crouched down and the child ran into his arms, and he lifted her up. “How is my little soldier today?” he asked.

She flung her arms around his neck in a most sentimental way. “Daddy! I missed you!” she said. She leaned back in his arms and placed her small hands on his face. “I missed you so much,” she repeated.

“I missed you too, Marielle,” Armitage said. The child had been named for his mother, but there was an annoying amount of his wife, and by extension his mother-in-law, in the girl, especially in the fullness of her face. But this was his daughter, and such flaws could be surgically corrected if necessary.

“Will you stay this time?” the child asked. Armitage gently put her down and the girl grabbed onto the loose folds of her mother’s blue dress. He thought for a moment and decided that four was too old to be hanging onto a mother. Marielle would have to begin training soon, he realized, if only to keep her mother from completely ruining her chances for advancement in the service of the First Order by indulging in the girl’s childish fancies.

Armitage leaned down and kissed the girl on the top of her head. “We shall see. Perhaps you would like to come visit Father on his ship? You can come onto the bridge with me.”

The girl’s eyes grew large and she turned to her mother. “Can I?” she asked.

Her mother looked down at her, her expression inscrutable. “If that’s what your father wants.”

Marielle beamed. “I drew a picture of the ship, Daddy. Look.” She ran over to her desk and retrieved a flimsi. He examined the crude drawing of a red headed man and a child. The large triangular shape they stood in front of must be the Finalizer, he surmised. She had scrawled a blue background full of yellow stars behind them. She looked up at him. “See? I made this for you. That’s you and me on your ship. Mommy says that it’s a big ship and it goes all over the galaxy.” She began to spin in little circles.

“Yes, Marielle,” he said, “Thank you. Now go to bed, little soldier.” He folded the drawing and tucked it in his belt.

The nanny droid approached. His wife let their daughter’s hand slide out of her own and the nanny droid took the girl by the hand. Armitage turned to leave. He held out his hand to his wife, but her attention was on watching the girl walk toward her bedroom. Armitage stared at her. “Breha,” he said, a little more sharply than he intended. His wife blinked and stared at his open palm, then obediently put her hand in it. As they left the nursery, he pulled the child’s drawing out of his belt and placed it on the windowsill. The maintenance droids would dispose of it. If his wife saw him do it, she chose not to say anything.

---

And Then There Were None by Glor

Synopsis:
FN-2187 has betrayed the First Order, putting over a dozen Stormtroopers to the casket in his bid to escape. Now the squadmates he left behind have to deal with the fallout. They will emerge from adversity either stronger than ever, or not at all.

---

Island Surprise by Sith-I-5

Within the Skywalker vacation villa, girl who whooped Kylo's choob, and an Emperor's Hand, face off.

Rey leaned over the puffy armrest to grab her staff, then levered herself out of the chair. "Fine, I'll go and do it now then." She took two steps towards the door when she felt herself pulled from behind and thrown back into the chair, but when she turned to look, Luke was nowhere near her.

"You'll do as you are told. Hot drink first."

Luke looked at her and put both hands up in surrender, shoulder height. "I'm not getting into this."

"You can't hold me here." Rey tried to push down on both armrests to force herself up, but could not move anything apart from head and arms.

Mara emerged, only the towel around her, coming round the bed to the chest of drawers, this time pulling out a neatly folded bundle of dark-grey material. "Oh please." She carried the clothing back to the fresher, and from behind, her hair looked much less damp than it had been outside. "I used to be an Emperor's Hand. No way are you getting out of that chair. "

The girl continued to shift from side to side, trying to free herself. The entire chair audibly scraped three inches across the floor from her own application of the Force.

"Are you one of Mitch's kids?" Luke stared at her as the water next to him came to the boil inside the transparent blue plastic, bubbling furiously. He clicked it off without looking.

"I-" Rey bared her teeth in concentration as she lunged to one side with all her weight. "-don't know who that is."

"Twi'lek Force Vampire. Mitch Nifesta. Adopts strays, no offense. Young girl like yourself, thrust from obscurity into galactic adventure, that sounds like his M.O." Luke regarded her carefully. "You are telling the truth about fighting Ben, which means you are strong in the Force. All the obvious candidates were part of my academy, and went off with him. Han and Leia only had the one boy. I would have spotted if Mara got pregnant."

"Hah!"

"My parents abandoned me on Jakku when I was very young. I always thought they were coming back for me."

"Jakku?" Mara exitted the fresher once again, this time in a sleeveless-dress that hugged her slim figure and flared into folds just above tanned knees, the matt sheen familiar as crosh-hide leather to anyone who had not spent the last fourteen years in the belly of an AT-AT. "Why does that sound familiar?"

"Double entendre, Honey?" Luke finished making the hot chocolate, stirred the frothy, steaming liquid into a white mug, and handed it down to Rey with the warning, "You'll want to stop struggling while you drink this. Deus ex machina Force ability or no, hot liquid in the crotch can be worse than blaster fire."

 

Best Story in Beyond

---

Counting Stars by Dantana Skywalker

---

Seasons of Migration to the North by divapilot

“Missed you, Mara,” he said quietly.

“Missed you too, farmboy.” She smiled at him. “How’s Ben?”

“He’s fine. He’s going to be so happy to see you.”

Their conversation fell into an easy, familiar pattern as they walked together toward the building in which Han and Leia lived. They caught up on the events of the last two weeks: Luke filled her in on his continued efforts at his re-established Jedi Academy, and she recounted the journey to retrieve the artifact. Before long they reached the apartment building.

A few minutes later they were at the Solo residence. A blustery C-3PO met them at the door and ushered them into the foyer. A moment later the droid was nearly toppled over by a small boy about three years old.

Mara dropped the duffel bag, bent down, and opened her arms as Ben excitedly embraced her. She hugged him tightly. Two weeks without her son was too long, she thought.

“What have you been doing all day?” she asked Ben.

He made a face and laughed. “Playing x-wings with Jacen.”

She looked up to see the teenager standing in the doorway. “If he flies anything like he plays, Ben is gonna be an amazing pilot,” Jacen said. “That kid has no fear.”

Jacen turned to Ben, who looked up at his cousin adoringly. “Except you keep crashing your ships, buddy,” Jacen said, ruffling Ben’s copper hair.

Mara stood up and took Ben’s hand as they walked into the apartment. “Thank you for spending time with him, Jacen,” she said.

Jacen smiled at the child, who returned the radiant grin. “No problem. It was fun.”

A woman’s voice interrupted their conversation. “Mara? Home so soon? I’m glad you could make it.” Leia met them in the main room of the apartment. “Jaina commed earlier to tell me she can’t come to dinner tonight. She would have loved to have seen you. Maybe you two can get together soon before she goes off on another mission.”

“Of course. I’d love to catch up with Jaina.”

Leia turned toward the kitchen. “Mara’s here, Han,” she called. “Set another place, please.”

Mara glanced at Luke, her brow furrowed. “Does everyone think I’m too early? Have I ruined a surprise you were planning for me or something?”

Luke put his hand on her arm as they sat together on the sofa in the central room. “Of course not. And it doesn’t matter, you know we’re always welcome here.”

Mara was about to retort with a particularly witty barb when a coughing fit interrupted her. It took her a minute to gain her composure.

Leia sat across from them and began picking up data storage units and datapads from the low table that separated her from Luke and Mara. “I apologize for the mess,” Leia said. “I hope that didn’t set off anything for you, Mara. There must be some dust buildup here. I’ll have the cleaning droid do a deep clean of the carpeting next time. Did you want any water?”

“No, thank you,” Mara said, her voice strained from coughing. “I’m fine, and your home is fine. Don’t worry about me.”

She set the datapads neatly beside the sofa. “With all the documentation I have to go through lately, and with Han out trying to restore negotiations with the Corellian faction, neither of us have had much time to devote to the house,” Leia said.

“Don’t think about it,” Luke assured her. “Let’s put work aside until after dinner. Right now we should enjoy each other’s company.”

---

The Map of the Dead by Ewok Poet

Oolteema Misura, Twi’lek woman from Roon is forced to work as a scantily-clad bar maid and the communication aide for her uneducated prostitute friends and her clients. She knows that the Galaxy was not always as dystopian, but she is not sure what is real and what is a legend.

Oolteema was devastated.

Once again, she felt that she would never get her redemption. She never wanted to be privileged in any way and her cursed knowledge, so humble compared to that of the other students at her former Lyceum, yet so precious in the world behind the darkened windows, was standing in the way. Her friends were effectively becoming slaves, and she was the closest thing there was to a free woman.

Slowly, the other girls turned their backs to her, thinking that she had somehow managed to charm Maradoona in order to escape prostitution and remain as free as somebody paid in food, water and the most basic of the belongings could have been. They moved out of the shared apartment, one by one. Kea Tranckyuila, the youngest of them all, remained behind, too scared of herself and others to take a step against her perceived traitor. One morning, without any prior warning signs, she jumped off the window to her death. A devastated Oolteema found a datacard in her belongings – it contained a poetry reading named "That's No Moon". It seemed to have been composed of almost nonsensical sentences, that could have been spoken by some random farmer, such as "Hey! Point that thing someplace else!" or "We are all fine here, and how are you?"

She wondered when such nonsensical sentences ever could have been art. After Kea’s very gloomy funeral at the planet's only cemetery, a place called, for some reason, Bantha Graveyard, where the other five prostitutes did not acknowledge her presence, she found herself at the Archives again. That night, for the first time since Maradoona had relegated the others to the level of prostitutes, there would not have been a performance at the cantina and she had some time to find an answer to her question. Luckily, her student keycode was still working.

The search was slow, the holograms flickered before her eyes. It took her a couple of hours to find something.

"That's No Moon" used to be a song around the time of the birth of the son Kylo Ren, the beginning of the bastard times she lived in. The song had been performed by an artist named Bakojj D. Baobab, often accused of riding on the laser beam of his father's fame.

The first thing that got Oolteema's attention is that this father, Dalyn R. Baobab, had won many awards for his work, many of which he was reluctant to receive, feeling that others had deserved and wanted them more. The second was that the song was about Han Solo, the name that had stuck to her mind back in the better days. Apparently, the nonsensical sentences were taken straight from his biography.

Suddenly, it all came back to her. The villain fantasy, it was still there, bouncing against the insides of her skull, below her now-bare lekku. And perhaps, just perhaps, it was time to start thinking about it again.

If anybody was going to pay, it was going to be Gleb Maradoona, that nasty, sleazy, stocky short-as-poodoo bithface. And that way, she would redeem herself and fulfill her long forgotten fantasy.

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Things Fall Apart by Irish_Jedi_Jade

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A Year in the Life: The Deepest Note is the Cobalt Sky by JadeLotus

 

Storyline Categories

Best Continuity-Compliant Story

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The Face Behind the Helmet by CheckSix & gaarastar58

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My Awakening by darth_treyvah

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A Rough Trade by Ewok Poet

Luke Skywalker finally returns to Endor after he had missed each single anniversary of the battle. He brings his nephew Ben Solo along. They have one particular goal: to meet “Twig” aka “The Crazy Man of Endor”. Still, Luke is reluctant about many things and Ben is annoyed with everything.

Perhaps it was thoughts like these that should have brought me back to Endor throughout the years I was absent. Perhaps it was the other way round and my conflicting feelings and the meditations I knew would be taking place were slightly frightening. The planetoid was strong in the dark side of the Force. The Emperor died there…the man who chaotically emitted dark side energy from his body even when my redeemed Father was throwing him down the shift! And he killed my father, who redeemed himself saving me and the Galaxy. The time I had with him was limited to mere minutes. This led me to believe that Anakin Skywalker had accepted the roughest trade of his life in order to leave the fate of the Jedi Order, the Forest Moon of Endor and the Galaxy at large in the hands of somebody who could see through his own eyes and was significantly more able-bodied than him. I lost him before I could even think of getting to know him. Sooner than my first Master. Even sooner than my second Master. What seems like centuries, compared to the family that raised me.

It was only later that I found out that some of the other times my Father had bargained with the Force, played sabacc with the Universe were far rougher trades, the ones that sent the whole spiral of souls, worlds and destinies collapsing into the not-so-bright centre of the Galaxy. And nothing can escape a black hole, regardless of its innocence in the grand scheme of things. Nothing. Including the very last thing that spiralled there – himself. Such are the ways of the Force. Such are the ways of the Galaxy. Sometimes, they overlap.

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The Book of Gand by Findswoman

Zuckuss, learning the ways of the Findsman, is asked to meditate on this question: "To the Findsman thrown across endless leagues of stars to a mistless world, to a small Gand all alone beneath a poisonous sky, how can intuition come?"—and this is the insight he receives.

“...to a small Gand all alone... There it is, Your Mystical Honors,” he said at last, his eyes snapping open. “He is a small Gand.”

“Well, of course, dear son,” answered Volokoss in a half-peremptory tone. “You are just repeating the words of the question now.”

Zuckuss’s mouthparts clacked hesitantly open and closed. “Pardon Ng’xvi-Ta’al-Lhúd’s awkwardness,” he said. “He meant to say that... just as Gand-the-world is enfolded by the Mists, so also is Gand-the-creature, wherever he is. Even if one were to uproot the homeworld of Gand, wrest it from its path around Te’el-Viire-Gand, and move it into orbit around Alzoc or Sluis or Zhar... would not its Mists go with it? They are bound to it; they are part of it just as the water and ammonia and soil are. Where Gand goes, so must They.” He paused and swallowed. “And where any Gand goes, so must They. That is why the homeworld and the race have a common name.”

There was silence as all three Masters gazed on Zuckuss with scrutinizing faceted eyes. Okkfel gave a few grunts. Finally Luyen spoke.

“Very well done, apprentice Zuckuss,” she said, clicking her middle mandibles cheerfully. “Of course, there are infinite possible answers swirling endlessly in the Mists. And there are many reasons for the common name of homeworld and race, which you shall learn in your continued studies. But the answer you have given is more than apt, and it shows that your understanding of these mystical matters is far beyond what is typical for your age.” She paused, then continued more quietly, with a slight waver in her voice: “May that understanding not fail you when your own turn comes.”

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Madonna Under the Suns by Vongchild

Beru Whitesun Lars catches Obi-Wan Kenobi in a lie - and confronts him about the danger he may have put her and her family in.

Obi-Wan hauls the door open, takes a moment to register her, then raises his eyebrows. “Beru?” he asks, looking over the top of her head towards the speeder. “Where’s Luke?”

“My neighbor’s watching him. He’ll be fine,” she assures him. “I need to talk to you.”

He steps aside. “Do come in.” She does. The house is sparsely decorated but tidy. It smells, almost overwhelmingly, of cleaning products.

“You didn’t bring Luke to us because we’re his only family,” she says. “You brought him to hide him.”

“Well, of course,” says Obi-Wan. “From the Empire that seeks to kill all Jedi, that killed Anakin and would just as soon kill me and that innocent child if they knew where we were.”

It doesn’t add up. Beru shakes her head. “No, he has other family. On Naboo. Padmé’s family.” She can tell from the look on his face that she isn’t supposed to know that name. “But you let them think he was dead. He would have been safe there, no connection to Anakin at all. But instead you brought him to us. To his father’s homeworld, less than three-hundred kliks from where you picked him up in the first place.”

It doesn’t make sense. Here, he’s Luke Skywalker, Shmi’s grandson, and his father’s no secret to anyone who cares to do the math. But before Obi-Wan brought Luke to her, only three people in the entire galaxy knew he was Anakin’s child, and two of them are dead.

“What happened to Anakin?” asks Beru.

Obi-Wan hesitates. A little too long.

“Anakin’s not dead,” says Beru.

The man across from her swallows dryly. “Not in the literal sense, no.”

 

Best Alternate Universe

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Tale As Old As Time by aleja2

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Emerging from Shadows by Cushing's Admirer

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Lord Vader's Limpet by frodogenic

EPISODE VI ¾

LORD VADER’S LIMPET

Witnessing the nefarious Emperor in the act of murdering his son Luke, Darth Vader chooses to attack. Like the extensively experienced electrical engineer that he is, he intelligently chooses to throw the Emperor into the reactor core by means of the Force rather than with his bare hands, thus avoiding fatal electrocution.

As the battle continues to rage outside, Luke and Vader part ways, returning to their respective allies in an endeavor to resolve the conflict. Meanwhile, on the Executor, Admiral Piett has succeeded in intensifying the forward firepower--but the Star Destroyer has sustained extreme damage to her sublight engines and has been sucked in by the Death Star's gravitational pull. Realizing they have mere seconds to escape, Vader orders the ship to make a blind jump to hyperspace--just as the Death Star explodes, sending a devastating EMP shockwave through the ship's computer systems. They find themselves lost in the distant reaches of space, thousands of lightyears from home, with no means of navigation or propulsion.

Not about to admit defeat, Vader and his crew valiantly keep their ship together and their hopes alive for twenty-five years, until at long last they succeed in making their way home. In a galaxy where the Empire has fallen and the New Republic is in full force, the last Lord of the Sith nevertheless has a most important role to fill...

...Grandpa.

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The Broken Boy and the Blind Master by gaarastar58

After he is paralyzed in an illegal podrace on Coruscant, young padawan Anakin Skywalker is sent to train with Master Forgo, a blind Jedi with an unconventional approach to learning. In this excerpt Anakin watches Forgo teaching a group of Jedi Knights, becoming more and more exasperated with them.

Wind streamed through Anakin’s hair. He nudged the control sticks of the podracer to avoid a factory spire belching smoke. He kept his mouth shut in a tight, thin line. Swallowing an insect while travelling at these speeds would cause a momentary distraction which could prove fatal, even to a gifted racer like him. He pulled the podracer back on course, focussing all his attention on the exhaust vents of the racer ahead of him. They flared white hot, channelling massive power through the twin engine pods. He smiled, jerking his hands forward and accelerating to full power. He had spent months repairing and modifying his racer and all his hard work paid off as he breezed past. This was too easy. He glanced down as a warning light winked on his pods control panel, notifying him of a problem with the starboard nacelle’s fuel intake. He took his hand off the control stick to check his engine status when the starboard nacelle exploded. The heat and shock of the blast smashed the breath from his lungs and the world turned sideways as the pod spun out of control. He felt the impact as his pod ploughed into the permacrete and flipped over, the metal screaming. Fragments of the starboard nacelle zinged through the air and he realised he was going to die. Pain exploded across his body as the second impact came and then his port nacelle went up in a brilliant flash of tortured metal and flame and his world went black.

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The end of all things by Pandora

Dormé, the Lady Vader's most devoted aide, considers her situation.

Excerpt or synopsis: It was too late, months and forever too late, to tell her mother and Egil this, but she knew: oh, she knew now what sort of woman Amidala was. Dormé had considered--with a voice in her head she had to admit was herself--finishing all of this by putting an end to Amidala’s life. While it wouldn’t change one thing about the Empire the galaxy had become—despite what Amidala might think, no one person, not even her, could be all that important—it would at the least set Moteé, and Lissé, and even Nandi free. They would never have to die because of her.

That morning, she could have walked openly through the steam-blurred fresher, and over to the bathtub, and Amidala would not have seen her, would not have left her thoughts, before Dormé had her throat slit from side to side.

Or: that afternoon, she could have included several teardrops of poison, a suitably fitting one, with Amidala’s tea. It might have even passed as a heart attack brought on by a condition that no one, especially Amidala, had known was hidden away there.

But she knew that, if she were to ever make one of those options a reality, she would have only a few days of her own life left once Lord Vader found it out. Of course, he would not bother with the task of killing her himself—he would send one of his current underlings to manage that, someone who was already in position, and in wait, on Naboo.

Dormé had learned, during her years in service, to care only for Amidala’s well-being—but it had turned out that somehow, however improbably, she still had some regard for herself. She couldn’t do it.

 

Best Legends Story

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The Lonely Goddess by Briannakin

Legends introduced us to Winter, the adopted sister of Leia Organa, with her perfect memory; but her greatest blessing was her greatest curse.

I remember. I remember it all.

The view of the blue grey mountains covered in crisp white snow, overlooking gleaming towers that radiated the pinks, oranges, and yellows of the Alderaanian sunset. The view from the palace veranda was always so beautiful. When I close my eyes, I can be there. But now it only exists, abet in perfect detail, in my mind.

I remember every species of flowers that will never bloom again; the taste of artisan wine never again to touch virgin lips; the names of all the children my adopted mother always had time to sit and talk with; their laughs; and their faces.

They haunt me. They will always haunt me. Even at my age now. Even after all the other orphans of Alderaan have died.

Yes. Somehow, it is just me now. The woman I consider a sister is dead. My love is dead. I can not even bear to whisper his name.

In the early days, while war still raged, I became the Targeter. I was the Targeter before the Destruction when I sought information. After, I sought lives. Those lives never atoned for the children, never was justice given. The lives only added to my ghosts.

The Rebellion had as much innocent blood on their hands as the Empire. And mine are stained red. Eventually, after even I too have passed, the truth will come out and history will know all.

My mission was to be unassuming and ruthless, targeting those who could cause… issues for the Rebellion, those who were not directly linked with the Empire: Banking Clans-beings, large company owners, and those that otherwise had power that had benefited from the old regime. I was never discovered. I was heartless. Mara Jade had nothing on what I have done.

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Two Girls and a Man in Red by Findswoman

Soozoo, a Theelin girl of modest Hutt Space origins, is staying with a wealthy Human friend on Kuat, and expresses curiosity about the mysterious man in red who has been waiting on them.

“...tonight we’re going to dinner at the fancy new place and they set up two huuuuge canopy beds for us in the Pink Room and we can stay up as long as we want and tomorrow there’s the big Navigation Festival down at the Drive Yards and my mom said we can spend all the money we want on rides and—”

This was only a fraction of what streamed from Talloïse’s mouth as she and Soozoo, reclining on the velvoid-upholstered back seat of the luxury speeder, sped together across the glistening skyline of Kuat City. Her enthusiastic monologue was occasionally punctuated by a “Wow!,” a “Cool!,” or an “All righty doo!” from her friend.

“—and then on Centaxday there’s the Imperial Symphony Orchestra concert downtown and my mom got us mezzanine seats and then we can—OOOFF!”

The speeder lurched suddenly to one side, avoiding a collision as a patrol swoop of some kind careered by with its horn blaring. The cylindrical hat slid from the head of the red-cloaked man, who was piloting. Unperturbed, he picked it up with one hand and repositioned it on his head, all the while keeping the other firmly on the steering column. Soozoo saw for the first time that he had neck-length golden-blond hair much the same color as Talloïse’s. It was hard to tell, but his ears seemed to be a different shape than most Humans’ ears, too.

“Hey, Talloïse?” she asked her friend.

“Yeah?”

“Who’s the guy driving our speeder?”

“Why’s it matter?” The Kuati girl crossed her arms.

“Just… just wondered.”

“He’s just my telbun, that’s all.”

“Your tel-what?”

“He’s just like a servant. Don’t worry about him.”

“You have servants?” Soozoo was agape.

“Um, yeah, of course we do! My mom owns the biggest holocommunications company on Kuat! Like, duh!”

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Lord Vader's Limpet by frodogenic

For reasons that remained securely locked within Ben Skywalker's two-year-old brain, his grandson had decided the first moment they met that he, Darth Vader—mass murderer, fallen Jedi Knight and Dark Lord of the Sith—was the greatest thing ever to grace the universe. They had known each other for all of six months now, ever since Vader's ship had fumbled its way out of the Unknown Regions and into the galaxy's shocked lap.

Reactions had varied across the board. Luke had arrived aboard his Destroyer in a matter of days, looking nearly as traumatized as at Bespin, demanding to know whether or not he was immortal. Captain Solo, true to form, had shot a blaster at him and sworn a blue streak. Mara's displeasure at his continued existence was outweighed by her delight in his consternation at finding himself her father-in-law. Leia, now Chief of State of the New Republic, had looked as though she might kill him for having the gall to show his face among the living again, especially since she'd named her youngest son after him. As for the junior Anakin and his two elder siblings, they hadn't had any idea what to think.

But their cousin had known right away what he thought of his grandfather. "Dada!" he had squealed, toddling into Vader's boots without a moment's hesitation. It had taken some work to convince him that although Vader and Luke's Force signatures were quite similar, his grandfather and father were not the same person. Mara claimed that Ben understood this distinction perfectly now, but Vader was sure that the boy still believed he was Daddy 2.0.

From co-ruling the galaxy and commanding the most powerful naval force in history, he had somehow sunk to the level of a two-year-old's personal playground.

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Life Among the Ashes by taramidala

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The Graverobbers of Alderaan by whiskers

In this excerpt, my OC Alexis Wentlas, who is the daughter of two other OCs of mine, returns to her homeworld of Alderaan to perform a ceremony called "The Return."

The hyperdrive lever reversed easily, the ribbons of blue outside of the transparisteel viewscreen shrinking into long lines of light before reverting into stars. Larger objects filled her view as the sensors screamed out multiple contact warnings. Asteroids of motley sizes floated wildly in the distance.

She wiped a burning tear that came to her eye away and focused on what lay ahead. She had told her parents that she'd be okay with going here, but the reality of it slammed into her with more force than the microfragments of the planets hitting her ship's shields. Alexis had been born here, had been raised for long portions of her life there.

Alexis flipped a few switches at her station, transferring all available power to the shields and ordering the ship's droid brain to take any evasive action needed. She walked out of the cockpit, leaning down to scratch her alarmed whisperkit between the ears. "I thought you were supposed to be the one comforting me," she said with a smile. A silent "meow" was her only reply.

She walked around the crate, gloved fingers tracing lightly over its surface before closing over the handles of the hover-forklift. She cleared her throat and tried to coax out the words that were choking her.

"I know I should say something, but I don't know what to say. I lived here and I took every day I was on it for granted. I never thought that one day that it would just... End...

"I've dreamed about this world when I needed comfort, I've had nightmares about it, and I'm not the only one. So, I consign these dreams, memories and hopes to space. May we Alderaanians never forget what was lost here, and may we find some peace in the galaxy again."

 

Best New Canon Story

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And Then There Were None by Glor

Taken from the medcenter she was born in and raised on a military base amidst soldiers, Lil has known little else but a life of rigid discipline and violence.

Lil had seen Decimations when she was younger. The smooth, cold walls of fortified duracrete protecting the Order garrison on her homeworld were the tallest things in the galaxy to her. It was her fifth year and she was packed into the courtyard with the three-hundred other trainees of the 343rd Battalion, stiff at attention.

"Today is a special day," Chief Iona, regarding them with her one good eye, had said. "Today you will see what happens to soldiers who fail to uphold the Order's standards."

Ten squads of Imperial troopers stood out of armor, each aligned in rings. Some of them wore brave faces, while others fidgeted and threw about nervous glances. These are Stormtroopers? She had wondered, never once seeing them without their gleaming battle plate, many marred with the scars and scorches of combat. Only a year ago she had been convinced they were droids, the sound of their helmet-filtered voices only adding credence to this childish view.

She saw ten of them bleed and break and scream that day.

Lil couldn't recall what they had done to warrant such a sentence, teeth the size of a space slug's ripping at her innards at the sight of their listless eyes and busted faces. Chief Iona thought it was only fair, so she did too. If those troopers didn't want to be decimated, they should have done better, right?

They should have done better.

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The Light From Alderaan by MandrinaQ

In the months leading up to the Alliance settling on Hoth, Leia searches the sky for all that's left of her home; with the help of a friendly smuggler, she finds Alderaan in the sky and in herself.

It was atop the ship's hull that Han had finally found Leia.

It wasn't at all unusual for her to be up and about at odd hours, but Han couldn't remember the last time he'd found her outside in the middle of the night… she was occasionally prone to bouts of despair, and there was nothing that he, or Luke, or anyone else could do about it. She usually preferred to bide her sadness in private, but as long as she was standing on the hull of his ship, Han Solo figured that he had every right to try and be there for her.

"I can't find it….”

Alderaan. She was looking for Alderaan. It was an odd reality, Han had always thought, how light travelled slower than beings and their wars. Even two years later, and probably decades into the future, on a clear night the light from Alderaan still appeared in skies throughout the galaxy as though nothing sinister had befallen the doomed planet. And now the princess of that extinct world was looking to the skies, homeward.

"There," he said to her after a moment, pointing at something above them in the night….

"Han, how did you…?"

"Rimma side," he explained their position in the Inner Rim. "You're used to looking at the sky from the Perlemian side," he added. "So you think it would be over there," he tilted his head back in the direction she had been looking earlier, "but we're out the other way….”

"It's a lot like you," he said candidly…."You're that light that won't be snuffed out," he told her. "The Empire did everything they could to destroy you but you just kept on burning- kept on lighting the way."

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From Out of the Darkness by mavjade

These are sections of Jyn's life that show how she had to bury her emotions and feelings in order to survive, but at the end she learns to let them in.

“And when we are in the dark and scared?” Galen asked his final question of his daughter.

“We trust the Force, and we know we are never alone.”

~*~

Saw had taken her in when she was nine, saved her from the darkness and taught her how to survive.
. .
He also taught her to fight, with weapons and with her bare hands; not to stop fighting until the foe was incapacitated or dead. He showed her how to find water on a desert planet, how to find what was edible in a rain forest. She thought he had taught her how to push away the darkness, but she found herself engulfed once again.

~*~

They watched as the shockwave of destruction came for them, it’s overwhelming brightness burst through the darkness she had held onto for so long. She felt the light for the first time since she was a young girl listening to stories in her father’s arms.

She put out her hand to the man who she had come to know so well in such a short amount of time, wanting to remind him he was not alone. He pulled her into an embrace and the light broke through and the emotions she’d long buried flooding into her.
. .
But above all, she felt one emotion. It was a word she hadn’t heard in so long, but Cassian had reminded her of it. She felt it now as strongly as she had ever felt anything in her life. She knew her life was over, but it did not matter. They had done what needed to be done, and they gave this emotion to the whole galaxy. It burst from her just as brightly as the tide of light that was about to engulf them.

Hope.

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Hobbie's Law by Mistress_Renata

Kestrel Antilles is sent to Takodana on a secret mission for her father to pass information to the Resistance. But her best friend decides to tag along, her Resistance contact turns out to be an old flame, and when the First Order shows up it all goes downhill from there.

“I’m afraid they’ve been tracking me,” said Poe. “I’m with the Resistance.”

Mel looked from one to the other. “There’s a Resistance? To what?” She looked at Kess. “I think I’m missing something.”

Kess hesitated, wondering how to explain this without blowing the mission. Poe saved her.

“I was sent here to meet with Captain Antilles, to ask for help in our fight against the First Order. They see themselves as successors to the Empire, dedicated to destroying the Republic and restoring the old days.”

Mel’s jaw dropped. She looked at Kess. “You came here to meet him…on purpose? This…wait a minute, wait a minute…we’re on a secret mission?”

“Yes, it’s a secret mission, but I didn’t know I’d be meeting with—“

“We’re on a secret mission and you didn’t tell me?”

Kess frowned. “WE are not on a secret mission, *I* am on a secret mission and I didn’t tell you because IT’S A SECRET! Let me point out, you weren’t invited, you invited yourself!”

Mel dropped to her knees and began going through the dead woman’s pockets. “If I’d known it was a secret mission, I would’ve dressed for it,” she muttered. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

Kess looked at Poe helplessly. “Should we alert the authorities?”

“What authorities?”

“Well, there are four dead people on the floor, we should alert someone!”

“We should probably just get out of here before someone notices.”

Mel snorted. “Please,” she said, “like these are the first people who have ever been killed at Maz’s place.”

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Lightforce by Suzannah.Pearce

After a series of increasingly intense force visions, Leia suffers the worst one yet while in the proximity of the Kyber crystal, giving her insight into the past, what lies ahead, and a warning as to the evil behind the abductions.

Leia peered through the thick fog, waving her hand in front of her face in an attempt to clear her view. Her nose stung with an acrid smell, and she tried to identify it; burning cloth, vegetation... flesh. She stifled the urge to vomit, and covered her nose and mouth with her hand. A red glow tinged the fog and, as gaps began to appear, she could make out several fires burning...

...The darkened landscape, baron and burned, was littered with bodies. Her sharp intake of breath at the sight brought with it the taste of the burning flesh and she retched, noticing as she brought herself under control that what she had stumbled over was a body. She bent down to examine the corpse. Jedi! Looking around, they were all Jedi, wounds burned and smouldering from a vast battle in which the antagonists had also used lightsabers.

Rumbling reached her ears, accompanied by vibration beneath her feet, increasing in intensity until she could no longer stand unaided and steadied herself on a nearby rock. The noise got louder as she looked around for the source, spotted a torn banner blowing in the increasing wind and recognised it. The red wheel-shaped crest of House Thul. Cold shock rippled through her body as the realisation of where she was hit her hard. Alderaan.

With the realisation, the rock she was leaning on crumbled beneath her hand and she fell, the noise becoming ear-splitting. Gripping her hands tightly over her ears, she watched in horror as a blinding beam hit the ground and she was tipped into the abyss opened by the ensuing earth quake, towards a river of molten rock, along with everything around her. Her arm felt searing pain and she could hear herself screaming at her inevitable death...

 

Best New Canon/Legends Mash-Up

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My Dearest Luke by Briannakin

For the occasion of her death, Mara Jade writes a letter to Luke Skywalker the father of her daughter: Rey.

My days are numbered. I know this because my visions of her future are clear, as if the Force is telling me this is what I must do. Our daughter will grow into a bright woman. She will escape the life I must force onto her. She’ll find Han, Leia, and even you. She will have the life I could never give her.

I regret I can not give her more, or place her in the care of someone who loves her. I have explored all my options through the Force, but I fear that all of them will only put her in danger.

It seems to me that I will be the cruel bringer of destiny. Perhaps that is the toll payment for my many crimes. I only wish that she would not have to suffer as a result. But I guess the daughter must pay for the blood of the mother as I watch from the Force. Such an unfair galaxy we live in.

I wish you didn’t have to suffer either. I wish I could place this bundle of joy, never ending hugs and laughter in your arms and that she would be safe. I know you can do much, Luke, but giving her to you now would only place her in more danger. It breaks me to make this choice, one that I know you could never make.

Do not blame yourself, even though I know you will. And if you must blame someone, blame me. One day, I hope you will understand and forgive what I am about to do. I know I will deny myself that comfort. I will die angry at myself enough for both you and myself.

I will love you and our Rey eternally,

Your Mara.

---

Awake And Arise by Dantana Skywalker

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Seasons of Migration to the North by divapilot

Since the start of the New Republic, some facets of the government had tried to find a way to integrate their sometimes divisive objectives in a harmonious way. However, as those voices of resistance grew louder, they found themselves unwelcome in Inner Core planets and so they resettled on this Outer Rim world. As planets went, she mused, at least D’Qar was rather pleasant. Those who worked here included Resistance personnel and the occasional Jedi like herself, although the Jedi and the Resistance rarely intermingled.

The whine of the ships and the ever-constant racket of repair work on their small fleet exacerbated Mara’s already throbbing head. Mara made her way to the rear of the hangar, past the glowing vertical white panels that illuminated the area, to where Luke kept his x-wing.

She looked around his vehicle. Where was Luke? He ought to have at least commed her if he was going to be late in meeting her. A quick reach through the Force bond failed to reveal his location, although she figured since his ship was here, he had to be close by. She retrieved her comm unit from her jacket pocket.

The device clicked. “Hello?” Luke’s voice came through the speaker. “Mara?”

“Of course. I’m here; where are you?”

There was a brief silence on the other end. “I’m with Leia. Where are you?”

She frowned. “Right where we agreed to meet. By your x-wing. Remember? We talked last night about this.”

“No, we talked last night about your decision to take the government transport to Coruscant.”

Mara rubbed her forehead. The throbbing was beginning again. “Why in the seven circles of Kessel would I be going to Coruscant? You didn’t forget, did you, Luke? It’s still under Vong control.”

“Mara, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

---

Recruited by Lane_Winree

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Star Crossed by Raissa Baiard

On a mission for the Rebellion, Ezra Bridger meets his contact, the Ace of Sabers.

Ezra banged a fist against the bar. "Hey, what's a guy gotta do to get a drink around here?" It sounded exactly as lame here as it had in the the Ghost's galley.

The redhead turned around, and Ezra swallowed hard. She was young, probably a bit younger than him, and pretty--stang! beautiful! Wisps of red-gold hair framed her face and a smattering of freckles was sprinkled across her nose. She had the most amazing green eyes he’d ever seen. He thought he could stare into them forever-- he was staring into them; Ezra made himself blink and take a breath. The girl’s mouth quirked up into a half smile. "Aren't you a little young to be drinking this early in the morning?"

For once, Ezra found himself without a quip ready; instead, he blurted the first thing that came to mind. "Aren't you a little young to be serving drinks this early in the morning?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Cute," she said, turning away.

He winced, wishing he could sink slowly under the the bar and vanish. It was a good thing this was a solo mission, because he could just imagine what Zeb, or worse, Sabine, would say. Way to go, hot shot. Scare away the girl and screw up your mission in one go. This must be a new record for you."No wait... Ace of Sabers?"

"Spectre Six?” She looked back over her shoulder. “So you are the one I've been waiting for."

This, at least, was an opening. "You know it, Ace," He leaned forward against the bar and grinned, pushing his hair out of eyes. “But you can just call me Ezra."

His thoughts were interrupted when the blonde bartender shouted across the room, “Mara! Quit flirting with the customers and get back to work!”

 

Length Categories

Best One-Shot

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Don't Be Afraid of the Dark by divapilot

When her lover, a Jedi who escaped Order 66, is captured, Mirany must process the fact that she must go on alone.

For the last year, her home had been wherever Kash was. Whatever job he could find – mechanic, server, factory worker, he had done them all – whatever port or city or station he was in, that was her home, too. She loved and protected him, and he loved and protected her. She trusted him with her life. He trusted her with his secrets, which was pretty much the same thing.

Trembling, Mirany held the collar of her jacket closed tightly against her throat as she headed down the dark street. Every few meters she passed the glowing light from the holosheets and she was grateful for the momentary brightness. The holosheet projected their messages onto the wall: bold graphics urging citizens to support the great advancements of our Empire; recruitment posters depicting the excitement and glamour of serving His Excellency in the latest, most technologically advanced machines that the Empire had designed. She stood for a moment, trying to decide what to do before her lack of movement caught the notice of a patrol or one of the recorders that seemed to be everywhere now. The holosheet image dissolved into another graphic. This one warned of the dangerous foes lurking in plain sight, the terrorists who threatened the peaceful Empire with their Force sensitive sorcery and deception. Every Jedi a murderer. Every sensitive a threat. Do your duty, the holosheet demanded, and turn them in. If you suspect, then report. Better to accuse ten innocents than to let one Force adept slip through.

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EP's Neck of the Woods: Radiophonic Heart by Ewok Poet

Teenage quetarra prodigy Anjie Mencuri impresses everybody in the band Steamy Wasaka Stew by singing and playing along to his own audition datacard. But that’s not enough to become a member of this future Galactic-level sensation. He has to put on their occasional stage costume – a single oven mitt.

There he was, standing almost froz-naked before three men a decade older than him, wearing solely an oven mitt to protect his modesty...and that’s all they had to say? He knew that something like this was to come at some point, but not immediately. He knew about the mitt trick that Steamy Wasaka Stew were famous for, but the last thing he expected was that he would have to strip at his audition. He was a musician, not a performer!

"You are Sprout from now on. It fits you well. You’re really young.” Antonio raised an eyebrow. “As I was saying – you may be precisely the kind of spice our Stew is missing. Lean, pale, the tortured artist type. Handsome. Nice body, too. Where are you from, once again?"

"Here! I studied at the Coronet City Conservatory of Music until about two months ago."

"You don't look like a Corellian to me." Antonio was now breathing in his face. "Come on, tell us the truth. Wompy is from Talus, I’m from Kiffu. And...uh...oh..."

"I am a Corellian, you nerf-herder!" Dale protested. “And you are Kiffar as much as I am a Kaminoan."

“Okay, my father is from Naboo. I was born there, in a city named Keren. My mother’s origin can be traced to Ha..."

"Naboo. I heard of it."

"Can we talk about music instead? Why does anything else even matter here?"

“We can. Our music is in unison with our appeal. Therefore, we have one test left for you…”

Anjie grinned from ear to ear. He knew all SWS’s songs and he was hoping that he would get to improvise to one of his favourites, even if he had to do so wearing that unfortunate stage costume.

“…you need take off the mitt.” Antonio finished the sentence.

---

Between the Porch and the Altar by Findswoman

A young Gand Findswoman ponders and mourns her homeworld’s plight shortly after its invasion by the Empire.

In the Great Temple of Gand, which floated serenely on its own pocket colony above the north pole of that eternally mysterious gas giant, all was desolate, mournful, uncertain. The halls that once echoed with the footfalls of Findsmen’s boots and rang with the sound of Findsmen’s chanting now merely rustled weakly with weeping and prayer—or had fallen silent altogether.

For the invaders had come: the mammalian, Human invaders in the gigantic wedge-shaped ships, who had driven the Sacred Visionary Mists from the skies and then boasted to the monarch, the magnates, and the merchants that their gray metal boxes could track missing beings and objects better than the mystical talent of the Findsmen.

In one of those silent hallways, bounded by a statue of Trynfor the Holy Madman at one end and by one of Isthien the Sacred Healer at the other, a wall-lamp cast its flickering blue-gray light upon a bundle of robes huddled against the cold stone wall: the hunched form of a young Findswoman.

Long ago the Mists had shown her everything that would come to her homeworld: the spindly hovering probe droids, the immense, bladelike wedges piercing and dispersing the Mists of Gand, the plasteel soldiers marching rank on rank through the Sacred Capital. They had warned her of the grief and distress that would come over her and her fellow Findsmen.

And now They were scattered, and would show her no more.

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The Bitter Girl by leiamoody

The following excerpt describes how my OC's Mariklare Trindello and Zizi Pao first met, and how Zizi's creations affected Mariklare emotionally.

It all started with the mermaid. A little aquamarine and emerald colored hand blown glass figurine was the first item she purchased from Zizi. It was also when they first met, on a melodramatic sunny afternoon, forever swathed in a rosy hued watercolor memory when Mariklare was young and splendid, and Zizi was glorious and mysterious.

Two days later she (always accompanied by her mother and the obviously undercover security detail) found her way to Zizi’s apartment/workspace in Sublata. On that day, when the sun had disappeared behind slate-hued clouds and rain poured from the sky and soaked her shoes and ruined the hem of Mother’s dress…Mariklare acquired two more little glass creatures so the mermaid wouldn’t be lonely. One golden fire crystal carved fertility goddess (a mythological figure not to be found among the collective mentality of Sacorria) and a clearglass-interwoven-with-silver-filaments serpent joined the mermaid on her dressing table. Fantastical creatures were not only a fascination to delight her eye, but also provided some necessary distraction to a bored young heiress. Nothing within the regimented life of the Progress and Unity society could entertain her.

Yet Zizi’s works were not created only for the amusement of a bored girl. Every piece of glass fashioned by the Pho Ph'eahian’s four hands, even the songs played upon his ebony colored mandoviol, were the culmination of thoughts and dreams that came from the Hidden Source of All Things. Zizi was a perpetual romantic who followed the whims of imagination and left the planet of his birth to explore the galaxy. Twin flames of creativity, art and music, kept Zizi’s passion for life alive as he traveled in pursuit of the higher calling that coursed through him.

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The Grey Book: Dutiful by Pandora

Then: an Imperial guard appeared with a smartly paced swish of his rubydark red cloak. He came walking forward, towards me, out from the shadows where the corridor turned. It was too late to avoid him—and I could only step aside and wait, my back clenched into a locked wooden door, for him to continue on past me.

Of course, I didn’t think he could be the same guard I had seen before. Of course, I was more concerned with what his presence meant--that the Emperor had to be on the premises.

His long sleek helmet was pointed at me, and I thought I could see my drowned reflection inside the blinded black visor. My mouth was still frozen, from years of memorized habit, in that polite gesture of a smile. Then he spoke:

“You seem to have wandered away from your post, handmaiden.” His voice was blurred with a static hiss from his speakers, but it was still his natural deepwater voice. I blinked back at him. “But then, you’ve done that before.”

“And how exactly would you know that,” I said. Later, when I looked back at the ghost-fading memory of that moment, I didn’t know how I had found the nerve to speak.

“This isn’t the first time our paths have crossed,” he said. “And I should not have to tell you what your duties are. Your place is with Senator Naberrie.”

 

Best Multi-Chapter Short Story

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Seasons of Migration to the North by divapilot

Mara is stunned to discover that she was never married Luke; her damaged brain has created a false memory and Luke must now tell her the tragic truth.

“So you’re telling me that my husband and my son died a horrific death and I came out unscratched.”

“Not unscratched. You were alive but seriously injured. Broken bones, burns. The worst was the head injury. Your memory doesn’t work right anymore. After your accident, Leia and I took you into our family while you rehabilitated. You lived in her home, you shared meals with us. Your mind must be confusing that with actually being a part of our family.”

Mara shook her head, gently at first, then more violently. “No. This can’t be.”

She stopped for a moment and sat still. Her mind stretched out toward her son, praying to every god she could think of that she would feel his presence, like a bright and joyful star shining in the great constellation of the Force. But there was nothing. Not like the empty, untrodden place where Luke’s bond led. This was a blankness beyond emptiness. A void.

Her son was not there. Her son was not anywhere.

She closed her eyes tightly, clutched her hands to her head, and fought the rising panic. The blue wildfire haze blazed and crackled. Her breath came out in short gasps and she knew her control was tenuous. Faintly, she felt people approaching her and sensed Luke’s attention turn to them.

A woman’s voice, calm and low, came through. “Mara, it’s Dr. Kalonia. I’m going to take care of you.” Mara sensed the woman turning toward Luke. “What does she know?” the woman asked.

Luke’s voice replied. “She’s losing Ben again.”

“And Jarid?”

“No. She doesn’t remember him as her husband. She only remembers Ben this time.”

The woman’s voice came as a whisper. “She always remembers Ben.”

---

The Brightest of the Stars (When Teebo Met Latara) by Ewok Poet

With the help of a new friend, that reclusive old Ewok named Logray, Teebo gets a starter hood he actually likes; and accepts the fact that others will be looking at him at the Hood Festival. Once there, he spins the world to the beat of his own drum.

Teebo was over the Sistermoon. This turned out better than he thought and he was sure that he had just made a new friend…who might have known something about the trees and had so many interesting things in his hut!

Later that evening, he was dancing with his own shadow close to the orchestra. He was not that far away from other woklings as usual. In fact, a couple of them were dancing close to him and there had been a moment earlier that night when an older wokling allowed him to try and bat a drum. He was not quite what they expected – he had an unique sense of rhythm, but that was not to say that he couldn’t play. the trees were quick to start chanting to it. As usual, he would only hear an occasional “yubnub” and nothing more, but this was the first time that the ancient conifers were listening to him, in a way, as opposed to him listening to them.

And the fact that somebody had been looking at him for a while did not bother him the slightest.

“Disgrace! There he is, cavorting with his own shadow!” Bozzie nudged her brother. “After everything he and old Logray put poor Fashkaa through today, he’s dancing. And you know what? He strikes me as one of those who will change his mind and eventually grow up to wear something outrageous on his head…and have a good story about it. I have seen that before.”

“Bozzie…” Chirpa shook his head. He was doing his best not to laugh. The notion that his sister had been quite smothering towards the young ones was not new to him. His own daughter was especially bitey when she was spending too much time with Bozzie.

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Two Girls and a Man in Red by Findswoman

Soozoo, while staying at her wealthy friend Talloise’s villa on Kuat, sneaks upstairs at night to her friend’s telbun’s quarters. This is the beginning of the conversation that ensues—during which Soozoo will learn some surprising things about both the telbun and her friend.

“’Myes?” came a muffled male voice from within. “Please come in.”

Soozoo did, and found herself in a small, dimly lit kitchenette not too unlike the one she had back home. The telbun was sitting at a small table, reading the flimsiplast edition of the Coruscanti Review as he sipped a cup of caf and occasionally nibbled at what looked like one of those mujaberry tartes from the Varanko-Moniron bistro.He still wore his distinctive red robes, though this time his blond head was bare; his tall hat sat on a counter nearby. The moment he saw Soozoo he put down the magazine and sprung to his feet.

“Is there something I can do for miss?” he asked.

“Well...” Soozoo shuffled her feet. “Not really. I just wanted to... say hi.”

“Hi.”

No one said anything for a few moments. The telbun, his eyes fixed on his young visitor, picked up his caf cup and took a sip. Soozoo shuffled her feet again.

“Hey, um...” she began at last. “So I just wanted to say… thanks for helping me out the other day when I was sick.”

“You do not have to thank me.” His tone was almost harsh.

“W-what do you mean?”

“You must not thank me. It was only my duty. I am telbun.”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“One does not speak to a telbun. One does not even acknowledge the presence of a telbun. Naturally, as an outworlder, you would not be expected know that.”

“Oh... sorry, I guess.”

“There is no need to apologize, miss. The fact is...” He sighed. “You are the first being who has thanked me for anything since my days in the training house.”

---

Tales from the Lars Homestead by gaarastar58

A story about Cliegg Lar's brother Edern, who died in a speeder accident when they were young.

The Lars homestead was situated right on the edge of the Jundland Wastes, one of the farthest flung outposts of the town of Anchorhead. Why his father had left the relative comfort of running a repair shop in Mos Eisley to eke out a living as a moisture farmer Cliegg could never quite comprehend. It was a hard life. At sixteen years old, Cliegg’s skin was already leathered by exposure to the harsh desert winds and relentless sun. He pulled his speeder up at the domed entrance to the homestead and descended the long flight of steps that led to the sink-hole around which the house was built. Dumping his tool-kit, he went across to the dining area and found his little brother sitting at the table with his hands wrapped around a mug of hot chai, still wearing his pyjamas.

‘Have a long lie-in did we?’ asked Cliegg.

‘Leave me alone,’ said Edern in a thick voice. ‘I’m not well.’

Cliegg laughed. Ed could be such a softie sometimes. While Cliegg was clearly his father’s son, Ed took more after their mother Gredda, including her love of chai. Cliegg had never developed a taste for it, unable to fathom the sense behind enjoying a hot drink on a scorched planet like Tatooine. Yet it had become a sort of ritual for mother and son to get up in the morning and sit together drinking their chai before starting work. She liked her chai dark and strong while he drank his with bantha milk and plenty of sweeteners. He might be fourteen, but he was still such a kid.

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Recruited by Lane_Winree

 

Best Epic

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Rage, rage against the dying of the light by AzureAngel2

Synopsis with brief excerpts:
My fanfic is about the secret gate keeper of House Palpatine: Nagina, whose calling is to be a kindergarten teacher. She tries to spread light against all odds.

In a parent-teacher talk she says to the mother of two year old Mara:

“I do not wish the Jedi Order to spot her potential either. I find it very cruel to take babies and toddlers away from their parents. Children need to bond and grow with their family.”(Chapter 2)

Her private life constantly clashes with the rising Empire as her new guardian Director Krennic points out during one occasion:

“We cannot stop someone like Prince Xizor to pay you his respect. He is a force of nature to be reckoned with. But we will keep the scum of this galaxy away from your door.”
“That scum used to be useful to Sheev when he needed them!” I exclaim. “I always regarded them as persons in their own right.”

“Ina,” Orson says evenly, “Each bounty hunter that you are acquainted to, would take you into custody and sell you to the highest bidder. At any time. With no remorse whatsoever. And you know it to be true. Those men and women have no honour.”

“And Imperial officers like you have?” (Chapter 14)

Having be secretly raised by her infamous uncle Sheev, Nagina knows about the power of the dark side and occasionally bumps into bad guys:

Suddenly there is the unpleasant sound of metal clicking, followed by heavy breathing.
I start wondering if the toilet door will hold an attack by General Grievous. There are also no defence weapons I can use. This is a modern toilet that does not need toilet paper. Just those stupid shells.

“Ah, it is you again!” the cyborg rattles. “The master's little shadow.” (Chapter 4)

Nagina's story starts shortly before the events of RotS. We follow her through the street canyons of Coruscant (until Chapter 11), accompany her into exile on Lothal, have a short beach holiday with her on Scarif (Chapter 18 and following) and go on a pilgrimage with her, where we witness the miracles of the Holy City on Jedha (staring in Chapter 21).

And there is no end of her journey in sight. NOT yet anyway.

---

Meeting Your Destiny by Cynical_Ben

Hanna Shirid works as a pseudo-assassin, reporting directly to Darth Vader, and puts herself against all sorts of criminals. Then she runs up against someone who does not fold their Sabacc hand the moment she shows up...

Everything went perfectly. The first Jahzer Qe-cora knew of the intrusion was when his window shattered. The sound of splintering glass filled the room as the two black boots plunged through it like stones hitting water. Minuscule shards sprayed inward, hundreds of them, each a deadly projectile in and of itself, rainbows of reflected light playing across the walls and ceiling. But there was no respite or chance to react. Before all of the fragments of glass had even settled to the ground, Hanna's arm was thrust through the gap and her flamethrower blossomed to life.

The living room was around eight meters by ten, a decently sized room, with the entry door in the far wall and décor similar to that of the hallway outside: old-fashioned light fixtures, burgundy carpeting fringed with gold, and wood paneling on the walls. There was furniture as well, a leather sectional seating couch in the center of the room, with a small table made of black wood and topped with slate stone against one wall and two accompanying wooden chairs.

And all of it went up in flames.

The ignited fuel-air mixture that sprayed from Hanna's wrist filled the room, lit all of the furniture and most of the walls on fire, and flowed along the carpeting in a wave. Nothing survived. As her boots connected with the floor with a solid and heavy thud, the flames were working on gutting the entire apartment, meter by meter.

Hanna had her pistol drawn and swept her helmet scanners over the room. Her helmet had told her that Qe-cora was in the room before she had made her dynamic entry, and she wanted to make sure that he was dead. The flames should have taken care of him, they had taken care of everything else, but there was no harm in being certain. Even if he was a smoldering corpse on the floor, she wanted to put a blaster bolt in him to make sure he stayed down. This was not the sort of being she wanted to take chances with.

It took her about ten seconds to realize that there was no body, and half a second more to realize that there was no sign of Qe-cora anywhere. Her helmet scanners played over the room, but the fire was interfering with the thermal readings, and nothing else would be able to sweep the room and alert her to any life signals. The sonar was almost useless in such a large room, and the infrared was even more useless than the thermal. She growled to herself, switched her visor off and went back to the basic visual scanning. She would have to find Qe-cora with her own eyes.

Hanna cased the whole room, from corner to corner, overturning the furniture and even throwing a few good looks at the ceiling. There was no sign of him. Qe-cora had disappeared into thin air. Hanna swore, grabbing one of the wooden chairs and throwing it into the wall, smashing it to cinders and flaming slivers. How could she have missed him? He had been in the apartment, he had been in the room just seconds before she had smashed in through the window. There was no way he could have gotten out fast enough to escape without being forewarned, and there was no way he knew that she was coming. Yet, there was no body, not so much as a singed nose hair.

“Where the hell are you?!” She shouted, loud enough to override her helmet's sound dampeners.

---

Letters Never Sent by Ewok Poet

Lost in the Mud flats of Talus on his way to Qaestar Town, chased by the Fed-Dub patrolling Dalyrake vehicles and the sludge panthers, forced to eat guf drolgs and befriend smugglers, Lil fantasised about being together with his only true love, Ranni, again.

That was crazy. But it’s not the craziest thing I will tell you today, Ranni. I have created an alternate take on my current reality in order to survive for as long as I can.

So far, it seems to be working.

What keeps me running, and running, and running some more is this fantasy, where you and I are on the run together. We're smugglers ourselves, we have our own small freighter and we are a battle couple. You're the smart and resourceful one, I am the one who makes up stories for the generations to come. Sometimes, they're cautionary stories. Sometimes, they’re tall tales. Sometimes, they are humorous anecdotes, but when you're on the run, there is always a story to tell, no matter what.

Our freighter is old and one has got to wonder how it even gets in and out of sublight speed mode. But we like it that way. Nobody ever doubts us and we get away from every mess we end up in. I invented us a whole adventure in Unknown Regions, for example, and another one in the Hutt space.

One day, we discover a huge secret that may save the whole Galaxy from the plagues brought upon it and from that point on, we are on the run. We’re sentenced to death in countless star systems and some sectors have become off-limits. But it’s less frightening than reality, because our secret implies that there is hope, and because we are together. We are searching for the legendary ones who could help us with the secret and we are searching together.


Sometimes, by chance, we end up on the worlds no sentient has ever stepped on before. And we keep such world a little secret, in case our mission goes down in flames and we have to retire to a place where nobody will ever find us. Our own place.

On such worlds, we are truly, truly free. We don’t have to run, we don’t have to hide and we don’t have to pretend that we are not in love.

Even when we run out of supplies, it’s easy. We get some random berries, find some grains, perhaps blast down something that looks edible and make these god-awful stews, but they taste like the best thing ever, because I am with you and you are with me. Sometimes, we make love under the stars. And it's like doing it for the first time, every time we do it. And it’s always different, because the stars influence the way you feel what the other being feels and each planet that we’re on has its own, distinctive night sky. Some of them are boring and almost starless. Some of them are like abstract paintings; as if a giant hand had dipped a brush in the sparkling white mixture and then just tossed it at the canvas. When the nights are starless, what we do is conservative. When there are many stars, it's a lot like that one time when I was completely sober and we were away from everybody else.

Yes, I remember that to this day. And that is why I hope for the starriest of the starry nights.

But all I get in reality is the fear of sludge panthers breathing behind my back and then I can’t even fantasize. All this life gives me is predators in places where any idea of freedom has been long eliminated from the heads of every single local I meet.

---

Red Five by JadeLotus

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Lightforce by Suzannah.Pearce


Left with crippled fighters and no pilots, Luke and Leia take to the air to protect their ambushed ground troops as they struggle to rescue abducted children. Feeling responsible for putting them at risk, Leia tells Han she is rusty in the cockpit but has no choice but to fight.

“Gold squadron.” General Madine's voice broke in over the comms. Leia quietly snorted at the ridiculousness of the call sign. Hardly a squadron, just two fighters and a customised freighter. She hoped when it came to it they could do the job of a squadron. “The squad commander informs me that the guns seem to be protected by some sort of force field. You'll need to locate the shield generator as a matter of priority.”

“Copy that,” Luke replied as they headed eastward along the mountain range towards the pass together with the Falcon that had now fallen in behind them. “Delta Squad, this is Commander Skywalker,” he announced. “We'll be at your position with air support shortly. Find as much cover as you can and we'll try to knock out those guns.”

“Good to hear that, Skywalker. Don't take too long,” came the troop commander's reply.

“We won't,” Luke reassured him. He studied his map and an idea came to him. “Leia. I'm sending you co-ordinates of a new route. If we take it, we would come out right in front of the gun turrets but it means going through a bit of a narrow ravine first. It's a bit tight and there's no room for the Falcon so Han and Chewie, you'll have to go over the top and come down into the pass from above. I think it might give us the element of surprise.” He locked in co-ordinates and sent them to the display in Leia's fighter as he spoke. Leia switched on her tactical display.

“Got it,” she confirmed.

“You alright with that ravine?” he enquired.

“Yes,” she assured him.

“I don't know, kid,” Han sounded dubious. “You're flying with Princess Rusty.” He was being sarcastic for her benefit but inside he was concerned. Leia put her X-Wing into a full horizontal 360 degree spin and levelled off again as if giving him a metaphorical rude gesture.

“Shut up!” she ordered. He had to smile.

In her cockpit, Leia was concentrating hard. It had indeed been a while since she had flown a fighter like this but, now in the air, the X-Wing didn't seem all that different. She had seen how narrow the ravine was though and was calculating that they would have to traverse it sideways. She hoped she could hold her concentration long enough not to end up an unsightly decoration on the ravine wall. Luke must have sensed her nerves because she heard his voice.

Trust me. Just listen to me and do what I say...

...Luke and Leia banked right, flying into a high walled canyon and Han and Chewbacca followed, hanging back from the fighters. Their job was to take out the guns and the Falcon's was to be back up.

“We're coming up on the ravine,” Luke informed them all and Leia pulled her X-Wing in behind him. They banked left and right, negotiating the canyon as the ravine got ever closer. She heard Luke's voice again. Concentrate on my voice, Leia. Breathe slowly. Try to remain calm. Leia had an involuntary urge to shut her eyes but resisted. She felt his calm. The roar of her engines seemed to dim into the distance. It felt peaceful.

From Han's cockpit view, the two fighters were flying in perfect synchronisation.

“Luke there's not much room in there. Are you sure about this?” He got no reply from either of them. Chewbacca gave a worried grumble just as both X-Wings closed their S-foils in unison, turned sideways and disappeared into the ravine like torpedoes being sucked into an exhaust port.

 

Best Series

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The Dear DAIRY Challenge: Being the Udderly Cheesy Adventures of Luke Skywalker by Briannakin, Findswoman and Raissa Baiard (consists of The White Stuff, Milk Men, Blue Milk Run)

These three UDDERLY humorous stories chronicle Luke Skywalker's encounters with milk that's not blue (holy COW!), as well as other dairy products that are WHEY different from from his expectations.

(from The White Stuff by Findswoman)
“Wait, what?” Luke wasn’t sure he had heard correctly. Was this crazy old Abednedo trying to tell him that the... stuff... on his table was milk and cream?

“This here”—Mlek pointed to a row of liter-sized jugs—“is my farm-fresh, grade-aurek whole milk. That’s the three-percent and skim milk there next to it. And this here”—he indicated a series of small, squat bottles—“is my triple-strength, hand-churned heavy whipping cream. Buy two, get one free.”

Gingerly Luke picked up one of the liter-sized jugs and eyed it with a face of incredulous disgust. It simply made no sense. Proper milk and cream were the light-azure color of a clear springtime sky. Everyone knew that. This stuff looked more like the icky honeydew-like ooze excreted by the sand mites that sometimes got into the vaporators.

“I—I don’t get it...” He found himself stammering. “This c-can’t be milk... it’s the wrong... c-color...”

“Oh well, now, if you’re used to that factory-farmed bantha swill, then yes.”

“Hey! Halava’s stuff wasn’t factory-farmed! It was from local banthas raised right out here in the Jundland Wastes!”

(from Blue Milk Run by Raissa Baiard)
Mara sensed her husband's presence and stalked into the kitchen. "Where have you been?"

Luke gave her his trademark innocent farmboy look. "Getting milk."

"For an hour and a half? If you were over watching the race with Han, Skywalker, I swear I'm going to...." She stopped. He wasn't listening, too busy pulling bottles out of a large crate. "What is all this?'

"Milk!" Luke grinned childishly, holding up a jug in each hand. "You wouldn't believe how many different kinds of milk there are! And it was a great deal-- buy two multi-liters get the third free. If you price it out, it wasn't even a credit per liter."

Mara bit back an exasperated sigh as she looked into the crate and pulled out a jug of orange-tinted liquid. "Nerf milk?" Pink milk. "Eopie milk?" Yellow. "Gualama milk?" Green. "Umgulian blob milk? How...no, I don't even want to know." The last container bore the visage of a crazed looking, dark-skinned bald man. "ANGRY MACE Artificial Milk Product....now with 95% more vengeance sprinkles? Wait, didn't they stop making this twenty years ago because it caused hemorrhoids and extreme hair loss in clones?"

(from Milk Men by Briannakin)
In their bunk quarters, Luke, Wedge, Hobbie, Wes and Da’yre all stared at the cups of bright pink milk on their common table. It looked fine to drink: the colour and texture were consistent.

“So, who’s going to drink it first?” Da’yre asked.

“I say we all do it, together,” Luke suggested, not wanting to be the only one to suffer.

The rest of the group shrugged. Wedge held up his cup in a toast. “To many more adventures. May the Force be with us.”

The other men rose their cups, and then cautiously drank. The milk was smooth, probably a bit on the fattier side, but mildly sweet.

“It’s not bad,” Hobbie observed with a nod.

Luke then felt something odd, like lurching in his stomach. His companions were either all turning pale, or grasping at their abdomen. “Uh, did anyone check the HoloNet to see if tauntaun milk is safe for humanoid consumption?”

No one answered as they were all clamouring for the use of the single ‘fresher stall.

---

Blood and Shadows by Cynical_Ben (consists of: Hanna’s Story, Interlude – Mandalore, Meeting Your Destiny)

Synopsis: An ongoing story following a girl by the name of Hanna. She lives on Empress Teta with her retired father, looking to one day apply for the Imperial Academy. But things go awry, and due to a misunderstanding and her own hot temper, she winds up in the company of a mercenary band on an "intern" basis on an extremely dangerous mission into an Inner Core world. The mission pushes her to her limits in a number of ways, including watching many of her new comrades die, but in the process it forges her into someone very different. Her idealistic dream of Imperial service shattered forever, Hanna is cast adrift, falling into the company of a Mandalorian mentor and becoming an "independent contractor", the sort of paid assassin who works in way most Imperial soldiers could not. As she spirals downwards, she is put on a collision course with another being just as adrift as she is, one which will change her course in ways that she could never anticipate.

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The Anjie Mencuri series by Ewok Poet (consists of: EP's Neck of the Woods: Radiophonic Heart, EP's Neck of the Woods: The Chancellor and I, The Brightest of the Stars (When Teebo Met Latara), EP's Neck of the Woods: After the Climb, EP's Neck of the Woods: Before the Fall, EP's Neck of the Woods: Not Just Talking Body, and Life, Death and Other Goals)

The half-Hapan, half-Naboo Anjie Mencuri was smart and talented child. Then he became a rebellious teenager, quetarra hotshot in an up-and-coming band. Sudden fame broke him, so he left the band did spice, but eventually he came back for another stint. Years later, he’s somebody else, elsewhere.

(from The Chancellor and I)
“I’m the Chancellor and I’m looking for Senator Amidala.”

“Chancellor? That’s a strange name! Why did your parents call you that?”

“No, that’s not my name. That’s what I do. My job is to…”

“When I grow up, I am going to become that when I grow up! And I will change my name from Anjie Mencuri to Chancellor when I grow up.”

“I…don’t think that’s a good idea, young man.”

“No?” The little boy cocked his head. “Then I’m going to be a Brave Little Bantha!”

There was no answer. Anjie got suspicious.

“Have you ever heard of the Brave Little Banthas? They have a theme song! It goes…Brave, brave, little banthas! Brave, brave, little banthas! Brave, brave, little banthas! Serving the Republic, salutes!”

The Chancellor could not understand the extremely unsophisticated kind of entertainment that holotoons were. While they could, eventually, have potential for what he needed in the future, he was clearly not going to handle that himself and right now, they were of no interest to him. It was just a charade.

(From Not Just Talking Body)
For the next three days, they spent the time at Anjie's messy loft on top of one of the older high-rises. Madelle was wondering if the young man had any directions or clues at all. The housekeeping droid was turned off and she had to turn him on - there had been weeks’ worth of laundry and dishes that her younger acquitance had apparently forgotten to take care of. Similarly, she realised how many of his appliances and decoration were outdated.

On the other hand, every single item of equipment, every single quetarra he owned was expensive. There was a point where he shyly confessed to her that he had spent his first gig credits on a genuine Zabrak, pre-hyperspace-era instrument and that he had to eat at his mother's home until the next date the wailer-group had booked, much to the dismay of his stepfather.

Madelle was now sure - Anjie was ridiculously enthusiastic about his music, in love with creating it and exploring it, but also ridiculously fit for everyday life. His story about how he once cleaned the marble patio of some villa close to his grandparents' home on Naboo was only adding up to it. He was apologising about the fact that he, Empire forbid, used to work a regular job at any given point and begged him not to tell anybody, but he really, really needed to see Dalyn R. Baobab perform undercover before the elusive peace-loving wailer had gone back to wherever he was residing now. And then, he went on and on about how he, just like any other true musician, loves Baobab, but prefers the "wackier" stuff he done, as opposed to Galactic peace and anti-Empire anthems, the Scarlet works, as opposed to banned.
(From EP's Neck of the Woods: After the Climb)
Could he remember the words? He grabbed a stylus and a sheet of flimsi.

I never learn
And I never will
Everything that saved me
Is the same thing that kills

I never grow
I never know
I am never the one
I thought I would be

He reached deep within, but the voices blasting judgement were silent. There were days when it was hard to silence them, but luckily, this was not one of those. This was the day when they were stuck on the other side.

He looked at the words again. He liked how they sounded. He liked the loose structure.

Perhaps this version of life was not that bad at all.

---

The Maya Qwan series by Kurisan (consists of: The Clones of Kamino, The Dragon of Dagobah, The Secrets of Sewosta)

The Clone Wars rage across the galaxy. The Jedi Order is stretched to breaking point and the Force descends into darkness. Padawan Maya Qwan must find her path through the turmoil, far from the guiding spirit of her Master.

(From The Secrets of Sewosta)
The lizard leapt from his bike, allowing the speeder to fly on and crash into undergrowth beyond her starship. Maya matched his move, springing from her bike and rolling. The mossy loam gave her a soft landing. In a moment she was on her feet, lightsaber hilt in hand.

Tio had found a clear patch to park the starfighter, ringed with luscious greenery. Syrrulus rose to his full, imposing height and swept back his long robe from his sides. His lightsaber was in his claw and the sunburst-yellow blade extended with a snap-hiss. Tio hooted with alarm as Maya and Syrrulus faced one another across the verdant glade.

“Walk away while you still can, little Padawan,” hissed the crocodilian.

“You know I can’t let you take my ship.” Maya ignited her own weapon.

A roar of starship engines washed down from above. Maya and Syrrulus both looked skyward. Maya gasped. A shuttle loomed, throwing a triangular shadow across the glade. A disembarkation ramp was lowered beneath its chin, and a dark-robed figure stood peering down at them with blank eyes. Syrrulus growled.

The newcomer’s leathery skin was stained blood red and face-tentacles writhed about his mouth. Maya recognised the squid-like Quarren species. He floated down with a controlled descent that betrayed Force powers.

“Tekken,” hissed Syrrulus as the newcomer stood tall. Now the confrontation involved three…

(From The Clones of Kamino)
“This is Maya Qwan, a Jedi,” said Senator Halle. The three clones snapped to attention and saluted. The central figure, his shoulders marked with red rank-flashes, pointed.

“You’re a Padawan, Ma’am.” His voice was tinny through the helmet speaker.

Maya self-consciously reached up to touch the woven hair-braid that marked her status. “You know the ranks of the Jedi?”

“I know of Padawans, Ma’am.” The tone was emotionless.

“Maya, this is ARC-5-10, and his supporting team; CP-2-9-7-6 and CS-3-0-4-5,” said Halle.

With the alpha-numeric names Maya felt like she was looking at three droids.

“Can you remove your helmets? I can hardly tell you… oh…”

In unison the soldiers swept off their helmets. Maya was now looking at three identical faces. She caught herself staring. They exchanged a knowing glance, as if they were used to such a reaction.

(From The Dragon of Dagobah)
Maya’s mind flashed back to childhood memories. The monstrous Besalisk had always been slightly terrifying to the younglings, but she remembered piggy-back rides and swordsmanship technique lessons, and a kinder side to the four-armed alien. The unfamiliar menace in his bloodshot eyes frightened her now.

“I will not enjoy it, Maya, but if you get in my way I will crush you like an insect.”

She gulped but stood her ground, lightsaber humming in her hand.

“I am in your way, Master Krell.”

Krell snarled again, two of his four hands reaching behind his back.

“So be it.”

---

Letters of Life by mavjade (consists of: To Jacen, To Mara, To Luke, To Mies, To Jade)

Ben Skywalker writes letters to people in his life as an emotional outlet. He starts when he was a teenager with Jacen, and through his life including his son, Mies' death and his daughter's (Jade) wedding.

To Jacen

While what you did to me has left scars, physical and mental (you tortured me, my therapist says I should call it what it was), it's what you did to our family that hurts the most. You took my mom away from me. You took my dad's wife, one of the only people he could every truly be himself around. You almost took my dad from me by taking mom.

~*~

To Mara

I hate that I was responsible for getting you killed, that while I didn't actually do the act, you were protecting me at a time when I didn't think I needed protecting. I hate thinking that Jacen used me to get to you. I guess I am angry, considering how many times I've used the word hate, but I'm angry that you died and I might have be a part of it, I'm not angry at you.

I know what you would say, that you would have done anything for me or dad, that your love for us meant everything to you. Yes, I do remember you whispering that as I fell asleep when I was little. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone about your 'secret' softy side.

~*~

To Luke

First, I want to thank you, and not just as your son, I want to thank you as a being of this galaxy. You were pulled from your childhood and thrust into saving us all, something you did over and over again, often to your own determent and to the disdain of others. The sacrifices you made were astounding and they could have destroyed you, but they didn't.

I do also want to thank you as your son, I don't know what might have become of me without you calming wisdom. I know you were devastated when mom died and there for awhile, I thought I was going to lose you too, but you pulled yourself out of your grief and did what needed to be done, as you always have.

~*~

To Mies

But now I have to wonder if you did see and feel that disappointment, and I wonder if that added to your grief. I worry that you felt less loved than your sister because she had chosen our way of life. That was never the case, your mother and I love you both with all our hearts and never wanted you to feel anything less than the pure love we had for you.

But look at me now, telling you what I wanted, and what I hoped, but I don't know… will never know if you knew those things. Is that all I did? Hoped that you knew? Did I tell you?

I don't know.

~*~

To Jade

While I can't pretend to know what it was like to have your heart so completely broken by someone who was only out for themselves, I know as a father it was something that hurt me to watch you have to go through that anguish. You've not allowed that to rule your life even though it could have, easily. You have found it in yourself to be trusting again, to allow yourself to love and to be loved by someone else. You may not know what kind of strength that takes, but I do.

It's a time for joy and love, and that is my wish for you. That your life, no matter where it leads you is as full of as much happiness as possible. That you love fully and that you are loved as you should be.

Love always,
Dad

 

Genre Categories

Best Action/Adventure

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The Face Behind the Helmet by CheckSix & gaarastar58

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And Then There Were None by Glor

Lil recalls her first deployment to Csilla, the Chiss homeworld, where the First Order has just finished putting down a brutal insurrection.

It hadn't been storming on Csilla. At least not with rain or thunder, but ash carried far and wide by black plumes of smoke, like ancient Coruscant, pushing it into the gray spreads of cloud above. The wisps of snow drifting in from the jagged mountains encircling Csaplar had settled in the gaps of her armor, making the suit work just a little harder as they marched through the Palace District. At the head of their column TK Corps sang of a girl named Arwen and the sweetness of her heart and how she was missing her soldiers marching far, far away.

Csilla was thrown under martial law that day. Lil remembered she had bolted a man in fine robes, a politician or some such, for grabbing onto an officer. None had offered resistance after that.

The collection of worlds and systems that called itself the Chiss Ascendancy had fallen victim to infighting and political backstabbing. Now, in the aftermath of their civil war, they were little more than a fragile alien conglomerate, too caught up in their inter-house squabbles. Too weak to offer opposition to the Outlanders.

Their Cabinet and Parliament was in tatters, their grand keeps little more than smoldering ruins, along with the noble families that had called them home. The very first targets of the Chiss terror cells. Even the backbone of their prided Expansionary Defense Force had been broken by rebellious kin. For the 343rd, the next few weeks were spent on long patrols through the city, rounding up civilians that met criteria for the Labor Force. Algorithms running through their HUDs highlighted the ones the Enforcers wanted.

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The Dragon of Dagobah by Kurisan

A deranged smuggler is found floating in an escape pod, ranting of a secret world ruled by a Dark wizard called the Dragon. Padawan Maya Qwan must overcome her difficulties with her clone commandos and discover the truth hiding in the mists, in the process facing her greatest challenge yet…

Maya leapt into action, igniting her lightsaber with a snap-hiss. The agile Padawan cartwheeled between two of the lumbering machines, regained her feet behind them then stabbed with her blade. The chrome giants were clad in thick duranium armour and she had to fully exert her Teräs Käsi skills, using her momentum and weight to punch through to the vital systems within.

With electronic hisses the two automatons crumpled to the deck. Maya did not pause, dancing away towards the flank of the droid now standing over Marker. The scout battled to rise, wrestling with the blaster-arm of the killer robot. The battle droid was winning, gradually forcing the barrels of its inbuilt weapon down towards Marker’s face.

Maya struck, a diagonal blow from high to low, separating the droid’s arm from its body. It turned its red-glowing orb at her, trying to swing with its remaining arm. Blanco appeared, shoved his blaster pistol into the socket where its arm had been and pulled the trigger. Sparks wrapped the machine and it, too, clattered to the ground.

---

Hobbie's Law by Mistress_Renata

“Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong, at the worst possible time, and you will be right in the middle of it when it does.” – Derek “Hobbie” Klivian

The door flew open. Kess jumped back, startled, while Poe’s hand went to the holster on his hip. Kess caught her breath. The three thugs from downstairs. First Order.Damn, she hated it when she was right.

“Don’t move!” growled the first one. A woman sidled through the door, not quite human. She wore a dull green overall, and had pale blue hair piled in a knot at the back of her head.

“You’ve found the Resistance pilot,” she said coolly, looking Poe over. She turned to look at Kess.

Poe took a deep breath. “She’s got nothing to do with this,” he said. “Let her go and I’ll come quietly.”

The woman arched an eyebrow, and turned her attention back to Kess. “Meeting with Captain Antilles, the leader of Rogue Squadron.”

Damn you, Hobbie Klivian! From the corner of her eye, she could see him look at her with disbelief, but her mind was already racing, running through possibilities and scenarios.

The woman looked at the thugs. “Take them both.”
“That doesn’t work for me!” Dameron had his blaster out and took a wild shot at the closest thug. Kess couldn’t reach hers as easily, and she wasn’t about to waste precious seconds on a snappy retort. She threw herself backwards over the couch in an ungainly somersault, managing somehow to land on her feet, and bracing her shoulder against the back. She pushed as hard as she could, ramming the couch towards the guy in front of her. It hit him mid-thigh as he frantically tried to get a shot over the back, but she kept going, pushing him straight into the fireplace.

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The Graverobbers of Alderaan by whiskers

While in the Graveyard of Alderaan, Alexis Wentlas encounters a group of pirates stealing valuables from the memorials placed there. As family and friends perished there, she doesn't take it lightly...

Her transport closed the distance between the two ships quickly, swinging over the sensor antenna of the other ship. "This is the Alderan Lemures to unidentified ship," she said as she swung her ship around to face the other freighter. "Dump the cargo you just picked up and leave the Graveyard or join it." The words felt strange leaving her mouth, the tongue of a woman long dead speaking through her.

Red blaster fire was the smuggler's answer. The Lemures shook as the blasts hit its powerful shields. The ship's computer immediately opened fire in response, spewing blasts that bounced just as harmlessly off the shields. In the distance of the cockpit, Alexis could hear Kimmi's frightened meowing coming from behind her.

She swung around for another pass, slingshotting around a large space rock the size of a city, her grip on the steering yoke tightening as a result. The XS-800 had already begun to turn its tail to her, three massive engines flaring blue in the darkness. The sensor array and the shield generator attached to it lined up in the yellow brackets of her HUD. As the ship's computer fired randomly upon the ship, Alexis depressed the buttons on the top of her control yoke. Blasts of fire-linked energy surged out from under the craft and exploded meters away from her target.

The space rock in front of her exploded upon contact with the missed shots. A larger piece of it, about a quarter of the size of the original rock, was shoved by the force towards her. "Shavit..." Alexis cursed. She threw the control yoke away from her, diving so quickly that the inertial compensators failed to account for the full amount of g-forces exerted upon her.

 

Best Drama

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Rage, rage against the dying of the light by AzureAngel2

Synopsis with brief excerpts:
My heroine Nagina is the antagonist of her infamous uncle Sheev Palpatine. I want to tell about her brave attempts to balance out all the evil that her relative unleashes.
She tries to warn the Jedi Order of Order 66 but fails:

Mace Windu looks at me like a Jedi healer who is dealing with a notorious lunatic.“There is no Sith order. I told you before. Their lot got destroyed many centuries ago. All the recent dark siders we encountered acted all by themselves. Lost individuals, nothing more.”

I wring my hands. “They are all but puppets, send by their powerful Sith master who does not really care for the Rule of the Two. He plays Dejarik too well to go for a simple strategy.” (Chapter 6)

Bail Organa and his wife do listen to her though:

“You confirmed to us that the Sith are back.” There is a hard edge in Breha's otherwise charming voice. “Alderaanians will always rage against the dying of the light. There will not be another Sith empire. Never again!” (Chapter 8)

But the return of her former babysitter child, complicates her life even more.

I look Orson straight in the eyes, remembering his fondness for power and dangerous toys. The blaster that he build all by himself had killed the family dog by accident. He had been so heartbroken.

I consider all the facts, before I challenge him, “You are not involved into building some kind of super weapon, are you?” (Chapter 14)

And then there is her mysterious neighbour from next door, who knows about the Sith as well:
“You should not have this! It is a jewel from the Old Sith Empire,” Lor San Tekka bites out. It seems to cost him a lot of strength to calm himself. (Chapter 13)

---

Word Gets Around by Briannakin

OH THE DRAMA OF THIS PIRATE-SHIP: Aurra Sing gets to do two things dreamed of by millions in the galaxy - kill her ex-boyfriend, Hondo Ohnaka.

Aurra grinned, leaned down, and gave him a long kiss. “I was always too smart for you.”

“You were selfish, and ran when we got into trouble.”

“Which I remember happening a lot when I was with you.”

He sighed. “I’ve found myself wondering, if our chosen careers had been different, would we have made it work?”

She glared. “What are you trying to get at?”

“Maybe gotten married, had horribly cute children, and had a normal life.”

“I don’t know what delusions are going through your mind.” That kind of life. Perhaps it had been a possibility for Hondo, but it had never been one for her. She somehow always knew she would outlive him. She always knew she was going to have to watch him fade as an old man, while she remained young for many more years, possibly centuries.

“I always loved you. And word goes around, my dear. There was no one after me. You always loved me.”

“Again, I don’t know what kind of delusions-.”

He interrupted her one last time. His voice was becoming weaker and his breaths quickly became rasps. “Maybe it’s the poison I just sucked off of your lips.”

Aurra had no clue how long death from Natari Poison gloss would take - apparently it was going to be quick as she had hoped, but she had not anticipated Hondo realizing her actions. She had taken immunity pills for the past three weeks, simply so that she could kiss him with the assassin’s poison on her lip, and he would drift off, unknowing of her final kindness to him.

He gave her half of a smile. “Your secret is safe with me,” he gasped softly. His eyes then closed and Aurra gently held his hand as he drifted off.

---

Bad Romance by divapilot

In this AU, the daughter of Han and Leia has married Armitage Hux. Things do not go well for her.

Armitage Hux lifted his cut crystal goblet and, over the light amber hue of the Arkanis wine (a suitable vintage although it lacked the vibrancy of wines from earlier years), he watched his wife quietly finish her meal. He placed his wine glass on the table and leaned back, assessing her. She was pretty, if not beautiful. Thin enough, dark curls that brushed her shoulders, her height a little too short for his liking but it was just as well. He hadn’t married her for her looks. Like everything else in his personal life, he was practical but he had an eye for quality and a taste for luxury. She had pedigree, and that was what counted.

As if sensing his scrutiny, his wife looked up and met his eyes. Armitage lifted his glass. “Happy anniversary, darling,” he said.

She tilted her head and a smile crooked out of the corner of her mouth. That annoying Solo grin. “Eight years of marital bliss,” she said, raising her own glass in a salute to him. Armitage frowned slightly, trying to detect sarcasm in her comment. If there had been, he decided it was insufficient to warrant an argument over. His time with his wife was short and he was determined to make the best of it.

He smiled at her, a smile that he hoped looked sincere and caring, and reached across the table. He lay his hand on the table, palm up, and waited for her to put her own hand in his. After a moment, she did. He frowned and then brushed the expression away. After eight years she should know what he wants. An open hand means you take it. He closed his thin pale fingers around hers.

---

Midday Darkness // The Light is Me, I Am The Light by Ewok Poet

At this point in time, Dyeke is still a child. During a long hospital stay, he takes a walk and comes across his school teacher, Mistress Korunas, hooked onto some machines, in a hospital gown instead of her bright, kitschy and mostly pink outfits. The truth is terrifying.

"Right. So we can pretend that this is a dream?"

"You're such a smart and progressive boy!" She managed a tired, almost tortured smile. "In this dream, there is a certain price I’m paying for Progress and Unity. But in reality, I'm the bright pink Korunas you know."

"You are!"

"You will go back to your room at the youngling ward and wake up from this nightmare. And then we will see each other again, soon!"

For the next couple of days, I kept on trying to wake up. I was sure that what I have seen was not a result of a nightmare and smart enough to keep it for myself.

Comradette Korunas was one in millions of Selonians – a Queen. She was therefore exploited for her ability to breed and the ova her four ovaries would produce would then be stripped off her DNA and given the genetic imprint of the future baby's parents. And nobody other than her birth family knew this – they were told what their daughter would be used for, explained that they were created through this process themselves, and then they were never seen again. Most Queens are kept as fit as possible in order not to keep anybody guessing, and infertile females are led to believe that their species evolved on Sacorria, while, in reality, the process is carried away through procedures masked as routine ones and the fact that all Selonian females have remains of an uterus which – ironically – implies that the species evolved to be the way it is on their actual homeworld, makes the procedure almost transparent. This is why there is this misbelief about Sacorrian Selonians being insatiable and producing children before getting married. It explains the unusual number of divorces in their species' sub-population.

---

Between the Porch and the Altar by Findswoman

Telfien, a young Gand Findswoman, has been called on to heal a Findsman who has been wounded while fighting off Imperial stormtroopers—and who seems familiar to her for some reason...

“Telfien shall do her best.”

The healing servant with the bacta made room for her as she knelt beside the Findsman, placed her hands gently over his wound, and channeled all that remained of her intuitive energy toward it. Minutes passed. He continued to twitch and writhe—was it working?—and was he really—? But it was no use wondering that now. All she could do was ensure her hold on him would not slip, despite her own flagging energy.

More minutes passed. Perhaps, against all odds, it was finally having some effect: he was calmer now, the blood flow was slowing, new tissue was beginning to regenerate. She would give it a little longer, till it was almost healed, and then—

Without moving her hands from their place over his wound, she leaned in close to his face and whispered a single, questioning name.

He twitched and ground his outer mandibles. “Yes?” he growled. “What do you want to know about that befoggèd traitorous upstart?”

Telfien started at these words but remained as calm as she could. “Apologies—Telfien merely wondered—”

“You mistook this Gand”—he reared up and tapped his chest with his claws—“for him, didn’t you?”

“Apologies again—now if Telfien may ask you kindly to remain still—”

“It would certainly not be the first time someone has had that misconception,” the Findsman grumbled as he relaxed again onto the flagstones of the porch. Telfien resumed her pressure on his wound. “But he, he shall suffer, that Uncanny One... because of his treachery Gand has no more Guardian to protect her secrets from the invader... his power joined with yours”—he thrust a claw at Telfien—“would have saved his people and his Mists... oh, but those who reject their homeworld will be rejected by their homeworld—you shall see! YOU—SHALL—SEE!”

 

Best Humour

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"Dear Mr. and Mrs. Solo" by divapilot

Ben Solo’s elementary school teacher tries desperately to get Han and Leia to acknowledge their son’s increasingly erratic and inappropriate behavior.

This is Mrs. Stoa, your son’s teacher. I have been unable to contact you to discuss my concerns about Ben, so I have decided to proceed with a behavioural intervention contract. Ben’s inability to control his temper causes numerous interruptions to his own learning and the learning of others, and it is my hope that this contract will allow him to learn the necessary self-monitoring skills which will give him the ability to better regulate his emotions.

Student name: Ben Solo
Age: 8.5 standard years

Brief description of area of concern: Ben appears to be struggling to maintain emotional control, specifically when required to share with others. He is easily frustrated.

Classroom interventions: preferred seating near teacher (for monitoring of emotional triggers)

Behavioural plan:
Ben will use his words instead of physically acting out when faced with frustrations. He will take a “time out” to regroup and think before acting. Ben will use his indoor voice when in the classroom.

Positive reinforcements:
Ben will be reminded of his plan when he experiences frustrations. When he successfully employs the positive behavioral strategies, he will be allowed a reward from the following menu.
Ben may play with the building blocks in the construction center. (Note: He may not wear the block bucket on his head like a helmet.)
Ben may read a story from the story collection. (Note: his favorite stories are from the “Kylo, the Very Brave Bantha” series.)
Ben may have ten minutes of quiet time with the class pet fooble. This includes putting food in the fooble’s feeder. (Note: He is not allowed to actually touch the fooble.)
Ben may color in the art center.

I will implement the rewards system effective immediately. Please contact me with any questions or concerns.

---

Sai-perimetry at Gleebaloola's, You Bet! by Findswoman

Gleebaloola, a Squib antique shop owner, has asked her business neighbor, the Kiffar insurance agent Norrwin Mun, to use his powers of psychometry on an item in her shop to find out its origins. The only problem? Mun HAS no powers of psychometry...

“Oh—gee—um—I’m afraid I can’t come by tonight, Gleebaloola. Our, um, baby grandniece is, um, having her qukuuf ceremony this evening over in Coruscant Heights.”

“Aww, y’mean the little charmer with the reddish-orangish topfur? She only just got borned last month, didn’t she, yes?”

“Well, yes, but—well, you know, since we’re away from Kiffu and all, they wanted to do it early, you know, to get her under the protection of the clan as soon as possible and all that sort of thing. Oh, and it’s supposed to storm over Coruscant Heights tonight, and that’s, um, good luck. But maybe I’ll come by another time. Yes, maybe another time.”

“Well, tell that brother and nephew of yours that I send my heartfeltest and most delighted best wishes to the family unit and all associated therewith.”

“Will do, thanks.” Mun breathed an inward sigh of relief. That had been close!

The next day at lunch, Gleebaloola brought up the issue of the staff again.

“Think you could come by and take a look at the pretty shamany staff after shutting time, mhm?” Gleebaloola asked, daintily nibbling a chunk of strong-smelling cheese.

Mun almost slopped his caf down his shirt front. “Um—well—’fraid not. We have to take the tooka to the vet.”

“Oh, why, what’s wrong with that widdle fuzzy-wuzzy-woo?”

“Um… er... hairballs. Yes. Lots of hairballs. We’re hoping the vet can prescribe some… um… anti-hairball cream.”

Gleebaloola’s pointy, tufted ears drooped in a gesture of sympathy. “Here’s hoping above all hope that she’s back to 100% bright-eyedness and bushy-tailedness soon.”

“Thanks.” Crisis averted yet again, at least for the day.

---

Lord Vader's Limpet by frodogenic

"Gampa?" his personal parasite demanded again. "Gampa, pay fy?"

"No," Vader said in his most thunderous voice. "I am not going to 'play flying' like your inane father does." This game, which involved zooming Ben through the air either by hand or with the aid of the Force, was in Vader's opinion a cunning ploy of revenge devised by his son. Luke had doubtless invented this game just so the boy would demand that his grandfather play it, thereby making Vader look like a complete idiot.

He was not about to fall for such an obvious trap.

"Dada!" the limpet squealed happily, anything but intimidated. On the contrary: the Force-sensitive boy was thrilled every time Vader projected any thought of Luke, however derogatory. "Pay fy!" He wagged his arms through the air for emphasis, then was distracted once more by the blinking lights of the control panel. With a world-weary sigh, Vader batted the tiny fingers away again.

"You have certainly inherited your mother's penchant for disrespect," he informed the toddler.

"Mama!" Ben squeaked, even more exuberant. "Mama pay fy!"

Now there was an excellent idea. "Do you wish me to take you to your mother?" Mara was somewhere on the planet, he could sense that, although he did not know precisely where—

"Waz Gampa," Ben said predictably, snuggling his chubby little self even more closely against his grandfather.

Vader sighed. "What about your father?" Luke had developed an alarming habit of using him as a convenient babysitter for Ben whenever Vader happened to be on Coruscant. As if a Dark Lord of the Sith had nothing better to do with his time.

He didn't, but that was beside the point.

---

The Wedding Trip by Hopefulwriter

“Oh, my goodness no, Artoo, I certainly could NOT just call him ‘Han’. How improper.. why Her Highness would have me melted down for being so disrespectful"

“Mip tee zziw pouks?”

“Why, yes, as a matter of fact, the General did get rather angry about the dinner.
There was this one….very…ah.. inquisitive diplomat’s wife. it would have started an intergalactic incident!”

“Hiz lop pingwa?!”

“Well, the Prin…uh Captain, became quite restless, listening to all the different diplomatic ploys. Actually, I think it was beyond his capacities.”

“Pwinga zofk?

“He became so bored, he finally just got up, grabbed Mistress Leia and me by our arms…and ushered us…not to gently, mind you…from the hall. Oh, Artoo…many of the politicians were insulted by such abrupt behavior! I apologized in every conceivable language until I was jerked from the room. The Princess showed admirable restraint, she only fumed at his appalling behavior.”

“Don’t anticipate me, Artoo; I’ll tell you the rest. The Captain refused to take a room elsewhere and chose to sleep in the hall by their door. He said he was attempting to embarrass Her Highness to the passersby. Well, he certainly embarrassed me with all the yelling and pounding on the door! He said sleeping in the hallway with a talkative, gold-plated droid wasn’t his idea of an exciting honeymoon. Honestly, Artoo, sleep is sleep whether it’s with me or Mistress Leia.”

“What do you mean, ‘it depends on one’s preference’?”.

“It is all TRUE. I am NOT fabricating any of this. Artoo…..ARTOOOooooo….”

---

Island Surprise by Sith-I-5

Inside Luke and Mara's holiday villa.

"Interstellar Tours. We're staying at the Konteeki on the mainland." The red-headed woman hung up the flight jacket, and took a fluffy tan bath towel from a chest of drawers, then padded towards the fresher partition, calling back to her hubby, standing like a hooded lemon in the middle of the room: "Luke, make our guest a hot drink."

"Oh I'm fine, thanks."

"Luke."

"Hot Chocolate it is then." The Jedi Grandmaster sprang into action, crossing to an glossy-topped counter where kitchen items unrecognisable to the scavenger were sitting. He set some water to boil.

"I said I was fine."

"Oh, he heard you." Mara called from behind the glass, to the sound of a sonic shower. "Tell her what happened the last time I left you in charge of something, Dear."

"My students rebelled and formed the Knights of Ren." His voice was still full of regret, after what Rey assumed to be years. That was just a guess on her part though; she had no idea how long it was since this Ben Solo character had run away from this bearded fellow.

"So if you are here to learn to be a jedi, I'm the one you will have to impress. And Rule One is, we don't mind-rub our own people. So after you have had your hot chocolate, you will march right back to the Millennium Falcon and clear up whatever you did to that poor Wookiee. And then, if you have still got all your limbs, and Chewbacca passes a simple pop quiz that Luke and I will throw together, we can discuss what to do about you."

"Anyone tell you that you are really quite bossy?"

 

Best Romance

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So Much More Than Fairytales: The Courtship of Prince Bail by Briannakin

Synopsis:
Bail was the Prince of Alderaan, a matriarchal society. He was an only child and knew he had been doomed to a loveless marriage by his birth. That is, until a woman, 17 years younger than him, crashed into his life.

Breha never believed in true love. She was young, fresh out of university, and had the freedom of the galaxy at her fingertips.

Bail fell in love in an instant. She was his equal: intelligent, witty, headstrong, a woman who could be Queen. Breha wasn’t so impressed with Bail. Yet she felt a duty, so she gave him a shot.

This was not a fairytale. This was a story of devotion, of heartache, and of choices. Breha accepted Bail’s marriage proposal, thinking she was upholding a scared duty to her planet. She could have gotten out. She had a many opportunities and reasons to say no: an old flame, and assassination attempts, and a disease that would cripple both her body and her chances to have biological children. But in the end, something happened that she never saw coming. She said yes, not out of duty, but out of love.

---

But One Hour Mine by divapilot

Fugitive Jedi Kash finally finds Mirany, the woman who has haunted his visions all his life.

“Mirany.” He whispered her name and she felt the warm exhalation on her cheek. “I’d like to kiss you.”

She smiled. “I’d like that, too.” She put her hand gently on his arm.

He placed his fingertips under her chin and tilted her face upward as he bent down to her. His lips met hers and she closed her eyes. His kiss was warm and gentle, like a slow, comforting caress. She kept her eyes closed for a moment even after the kiss was over, savoring the moment, feeling a warmth rekindle inside her that she had assumed had long gone cold.

Something was gently pressed into the palm of her hand. Mirany opened her eyes and looked down, then she released her fingers to look at the object. It was a clear crystal flecked with brilliant green points.

He wrapped his hand around hers again. “It’s my heart. I want you to have it. It’s yours now.”

Mirany stood still for a few moments. She closed her hand around the crystal, feeling the tingle of its mysterious warmth, and contemplated his words and actions. It had been so long since a man had said anything like this to her. It was not in her nature to believe such talk, especially from a man who was a stranger to her mere weeks ago. She knew that so much, so very much, hinged on what she did next.

She focused her breathing, calmed her mind, and found a stillness within her. From that source, she reached out to him with her mind and her heart. She found Kash’s own spirit waiting for her– kind, loyal, and sincere – and then she knew. Not just what she would do next, but where her own spirit belonged.

---

The Prodigal Knight and the Tragic Cupcake by Findswoman

Revan (Katts), who has just caught Carth comming her father (Stann Rzewanczkowski) behind her back, finds her resolve to be angry with him melting away. And then Stann pipes up...

He looked so pathetic and vulnerable standing there, and so entirely like a scared, homeless mooka pup, that I simply hadn’t the heart to unleash the screed I had been working up in my mind. Instead I placed a hand on his arm and said, “You OK?”

“Yes, I think I’ll be fine.” He heaved a sigh that was halfway between a sigh and a sob. “You must think I’m incredibly stupid.”

I smiled. “Not at all. I just think you’re outnumbered by Rzewanczkowskis.”

The hologram of Dad smiled proudly. And, after a moment or so, Carth cracked a smile too. He and I looked at each other. I took in his impeccably gelled hair, the two stray locks, the shadowy, slightly-more-than-1700-hours beard that adorned the lower half of his face. I took in those deep, warm brown eyes, gazing at me so steadily, so trustingly. I took in those strong, broad shoulders that had interposed themselves so many times between me and danger. All was silent around us.

And then Dad’s husky voice cut through everything like a vibrosaw.

“So what are you two waitin’ for, anyway? KISS, ALREADY!”

“Oh, DAAAAD! For the love of—fine!”

So Carth and I kissed. Just lightly, just gently, because I didn’t want it to be too much of a shock to the poor darling. Plus, of course, he was still scratchy. But at least there was the future prospect of sweet-smelling shaving soap.

The barrage of cheers and claps from the doorway (along with one stray “Get a room, will ya?” from Mission) reminded me that my crewmates were still observing the scene, so we disengaged. “Now, how about I let you recover for a bit?” I said.

---

A Year in the Life: The Deepest Note is the Cobalt Sky by JadeLotus

---

Interludes by K'tai qel Letta-Tanku

Obi-Wan and K’Tai share a life-bond but at this stage in their relationship have no clue even though the bond is already there.

She worked quickly, using the Force to ease his pain and gently set bones. She then took a slow breathe and felt for additional trauma. As the girl finished, her eyes met Obi-Wan’s. A spark flashed between them. She looked away and back to Qui-Gon.
----
Obi-Wan was doing his best to stifle the scream that was caught in his chest. The nightmarish vision still resonated in his mind. Lava and fighting for his life and the fate of the galaxy as it tipped on the edge of Darkness...He didn't answer her. When she walked over and lay a hand on his arm, he couldn't hold back any more. Silent tears traced tracks down his cheeks and he shuddered. That brought pain and frustration. It didn't help the tears.

"It's okay. I'm here. You aren't alone." K'Tai didn't try to damp out his emotions but she did everything she could to make sure that Obi-Wan's broken bones didn't add to his misery. "It's okay to let it out."

Her touch was gentle, an anchor as the tangle of emotions from the visions swelled into uncertainty about the possible symbolism in his fall from the cliff. He put his hand on where hers rested on his arm. It felt nice when she touched him, like all would eventually be right even if it was far from right at the moment. He wasn't supposed to think that...Jedi didn't crave physical contact.
-----
K'Tai watched Obi-Wan's face light up as he told her about what they had seen up to that point on Kress. He was kind of cute. His blue eyes...she stopped that line of thought. Keep it professional, she told herself. She focused again on what he was saying.

 

Character Categories

Best Interpretation of a Movie Character

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Kylo Ren in My Awakening by darth_treyvah

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Cliegg Lars in Tales from the Lars Homestead by gaarastar58

In this excerpt Owen comes across his father outside the Lars Homestead, and forms part of an introduction to a story about Cliegg's brother, who died in their childhood.

‘The desert takes everything from us,’ said Cliegg without looking up, and Owen now saw that he was staring not at Shmi’s grave but at a smaller headstone, the one belonging to Cliegg’s fourteen-year-old brother. The stone bore a simple inscription:

Edern Lars​

Beloved Son and Brother​

Cliegg had never spoken of his brother to Owen. If not for the marker, he would not have known he had existed. Grief hung around his father’s shoulders like a thick outback cloak, tangling him with the weight of memory and loss. Owen wished that he could turn away from it but he stayed by his father’s side while the dawn rays spread across the plain, turning everything they touched into gold. The shadows of the grave markers stretched like long black fingers behind them.

‘I should have taken better care of you,’ said Cliegg, staring down at his brother’s headstone and Owen saw that he had tears in his eyes. They streamed down his face and melted into his coarse beard. Owen turned and walked back to the house. There was nothing he could do to reach his father when he was like this. He paused in the doorway and looked back at the man who for most of his life had been indomitable. He looked small now, a hunched figure staring into his own past, burdened by guilt.

---

C-3PO in The Wedding Trip by Hopefulwriter

“I don’t KNOW what happened on the trip. They shut me down.”

"ARTOO! You had best watch your language.”

"It’s so hard to know what to call him these days! I’m used to ‘Captain’ and he still IS the Captain of the Millennium Falcon, but the Alliance made him a General and since he married the Princess, even ‘Prince’ would be an applicable title, but when I called him that, he gave me a terrible look and said it made him feel like a member of the Kesnine species and if I ever called him that again, he would change the position of my feet and head, because the only thing my head was good for was standing on…..”

“Oh, my goodness no, Artoo, I certainly could NOT just call him ‘Han’. How improper.. why Her Highness would have me melted down for being so disrespectful!”

“Why, yes, the General did get rather angry about the dinner."

“They served odacca, a highly spiced fram, beverages of all kinds, trays and trays of kobishes, and , for dessert, the most magnificent three-tiered spiral sposh. Oh, Artoo, to have taste buds! Life beings do have quite a few advantages over us, you know. But, I’m proud to say that, aside from a few quadra-linguals, I was able to understand every smattering of conversation that was uttered at our table.”

"Well, there WAS one incident I didn’t translate.”

“There was this one….very…ah.. inquisitive diplomat’s wife. Why, it would have started an intergalactic incident!”[/I]

---

Sabé in Life Among the Ashes by taramidala

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Beru Whitesun Lars in Madonna Under the Suns by Vongchild

Beru Whitesun, uncertain about her relationship with Owen Lars, meets his parents for the first time - and makes a decision that will reverberate through the rest of her life.

“Come on,” says Owen. “I’ve buttered them up. All you have to do is be yourself. They’ll love you.”

Beru thinks about whether this is what she wants. Owen is going to take over the moisture farm someday, and that’s not a glamorous life. She could try holding out for something better, somewhere she won’t have to work every day just to stay sunburnt and dusty. She likes Owen, but is it worth it? For that?

She takes a deep breath.

She lets it go.

She lets everything go.

“Okay,” she says, following Owen into the house.

She doesn’t remember much about her first impressions of Cliegg Lars. He is welcoming, but hospitality is a virtue in the salt flats. She gets the feeling from him that Owen doesn’t bring many girls home, and that his parents feel as much pressure to impress her as she feels to impress them.

What she does remember clearly is Shmi Skywalker Lars standing in the kitchen doorway, drying her broad hands on a dish towel, her eyes framed by deep smile lines - Beru can’t help but smile back.

She remembers that dinner is delicious, and that afterwards she helps Shmi with the dishes and tries to emulate her graceful way of moving. It is then that she first hears the name Anakin Skywalker. He is a footnote in his mother’s story, a little boy who was hers for nine years and then went with the Jedi and… her world didn’t end. Her life wasn’t over. She met Cliegg and moved to the farm and helped raise Owen and she has a whole life now that she made for herself, that is defined by net gain and not by loss.

Beru decides that she wants to be part of that life.

 

Best Interpretation of an EU Character

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Winter Retrac Celchu in The Lonely Goddess by Briannakin

Winter, with her perfect memory, was known as a spy, a sister, and a friend; but what if the truth was much more darker because of her perfect memory.

And I remember everything: the last moments of happiness I have been witness to, the smothered cries for help, and when those cries cease.

I was never a hero of the Rebellion. Look inside of me and you will see hatred. That isn’t victorious. That isn’t something to celebrate. I was a monster.

I am a monster.

Luke Skywalker always said I was Force sensitive, perhaps even powerful enough to rival him. My memory is not one of beings, but of gods. But Luke always understood why I never wanted to be trained. Why I never should be trained.

Because I didn’t have to be trained. Because I felt them. I felt my world turn to dust and ashes and oblivion!

And I remember that feeling every time I breathe.

My rage and hatred long ago turned to ice, and that is what I became.

I could destroy worlds if I had the knowledge to do so. To rid myself of my pain and anger would rid myself of me.

The orphans of Alderaan all coped. They were able to cope because they were able to forget. Even Leia could laugh and forgot that I did, once upon a time as well. But I must carry the burden because I am unable to forget.

So I shall remember for them. To live with this pain for eternity.

So I shall be their lonely goddess.

But. I am oh so tired now. So I shall rest, and Alderaan along with me.

---

Fives in The Face Behind the Helmet by CheckSix & gaarastar58

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Anakin Solo in Driving Lord Vader by frodogenic

In an AU where Vader survives ROTJ and returns to civilization after 25 years lost in the Unknown Regions, Anakin Solo is on the manly quest for his first space license. Unfortunately, the only person available to take him to the testing center is his grandfather...

"You seem displeased, young one."

"Me?" Anakin answered. "Oh, I'm great. Fantastic. Really wizard."

Grandad paused midstep and regarded him from his half-meter's advantage in height. "I sense that your sarcasm is strong. What is upsetting you?"

Anakin sighed, "Nothing," and tried to resort to his usual silence.

"I may be old, but I am not yet blind, young one. What is it?"

Anakin scowled at the far wall. Figured Granddad would want to talk now of all times. Well, things couldn't get any worse anyway. "You really want to know? Alright"—he started ticking off finger by finger—"first you butchered the media droids—"

"I see you still insist on your delusion that it is somehow possible to kill something that is not—"

"Second," Anakin cut over top of him, "you terrorized the entire Department of Space Transportation. Third, you tried to turn the Imperial Navy into my guerrilla bodyguard squadron, and fourth—"

Upon remembering what Issue Number Four was—Darth Vader would now be sitting in the cockpit watching him forget everything he was supposed to know about flying—Anakin cut himself off. You just couldn't admit in front of Granddad that he made you nervous. "Fourth…I'm…just going to screw this up," he muttered instead, combing hair away from his forehead with his fingers. What had possessed Mom to send him off with his grandfather?

"Stop saying that," Vader ordered. "If I could fly a starfighter into orbital combat when I was ten, then you can certainly pass a routine space license exam."

"You what?" Anakin yelped.

The Dark Lord paused. "Or perhaps I was nine."

Anakin trudged in even greater dismay towards the boarding ramp of the test ship. That would be the one thing that Granddad remembered about being a kid. He heaved a short, sharp sigh.

I'm doomed.

---

Mara Jade in We're the Same Here Always by leia

(2) the taste of stone

It feels like the end of all things.

The vision and command had been clear—YOU WILL KILL LUKE SKYWALKER—and then he was ripped away. The pain was so great that her body had collapsed in on itself, and yet, she did not cry. Even now that the initial shock has passed, and the true devastation of the Emperor’s death has been wrought, she has not wept.

Some things are too deeply felt for tears.

(1) behold a gift designed to kill

She stands over the body, hands trembling and slippery with blood.

It should have been clean—slip the wire over his head, hold tight—and Mara’s not exactly sure what went wrong. But then he’d lurched, and the wire slid out of her grasp. She had fumbled while reaching for her vibroblade, her thoughts scrambling with the panic of a failed plan. He stumbled, though, lunging across the lush carpet towards the silent alarm she knew was on the other side of the desk. It gave her enough time to finally get her grip on the blade, to fall on top of him and sink it into his side over and over again. He grunted, wheezing out a breath as she angled the vibroblade between ribs and into lung. When he collapsed, she pushed up onto her knees, grabbed his hair, pulled back, and slit his throat. It hadn’t taken long after that.

Her first kill, and it was ugly and desperate. The heavy smell of blood hangs in the air. She’s spent years training for this moment—it’s not at all how she imagined.

---

Jacen Solo in Warrior Queen by SiouxFan

Ages ago, fans here on the boards started giving Tenel Ka the nickname 'Tiki', and this excerpt is a backstory of how she might have gotten that nickname. The whole story was written as a plot-bunny one-off of Origami Fish's fantastic AU over on FF.n.

Tenel Ka had gotten Jacen up early to take a run together through the Yavin jungle. A couple of miles in, he had gotten distracted by the lovely view in front of him and tripped on a tree root. Writhing in pain, he yelled out for her to stop.

The young warrior girl stopped and, seeing her friend’s anguish, sprinted back to him. Kneeling beside him, Tenel Ka frantically ran her hand down this ankle, clearly afraid that he had broken something. “Friend Jacen, are you injured?”

He stopped writhing and grabbed her hand, a sparkle of mirth in his eyes. “I’m fine. I just needed to rest!”

Tenel Ka stood abruptly and glared at him. Not saying a word, she spun around and started to walk briskly away.

Jacen got up quickly. “Tiki, wait!” He started to chase after her, “Stop!“ Sprinting now, his voice raised in panic, “Tiki! Stop!”

Tenel Ka stopped and spun back around to face him, her red braids whipping around. “What did you call me?”

Jacen stopped, wincing at fury clearly evident in his friend’s grey eyes. Why does she always think I am making fun of her? Not wanting to infuriate her further, he quietly apologized, “I’m sorry.”

Noticing that her eyes softened a little, “When I leave a note explaining where we’ve gone, it’s always something like, ‘TK and I went for run. Back in an hour’.” He took a tentative step closer, looking chagrined. “I just...” Jacen looked down at the ground, embarrassed by the foolish notion that she would actually like the dorky nickname he had used, “...pronounced your initials.” Looking back up guiltily, he shook his head, “I won’t do it again.”

 

Best Development of a Game Character

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Female Revan/Katts Rzewanczkowski in The Prodigal Knight and the Tragic Cupcake by Findswoman

Revan (aka Katts Rzewanczkowski) reflects on her relationship with A Certain Sad-Eyed Republic Soldier who is a member of her crew.

“Yes? What’s on your mind?”

That’s what he said every time I came to talk to him. Every single time, without fail. The thing is, I’m really the one who should have been asking him that, because “sad little mooka pup” seemed to be the man's default mode of being, Force bless him.

He always denied it, of course—especially when I used the mern-word to describe his attitude. “Moping? I’m not moping!” he once remonstrated, throwing his head back in that charmingly outraged manner of his. I remember, of course, how the two little stray locks on his forehead skipped like baby groats. Whatever hair gel he used never seemed quite able to catch them, and that was fine with me.

And yes, I know I’m the Prodigal Knight and the savior of the known Galaxy and all that, but I’ll be the first to admit I’m susceptible. The fact is, the man was cute when he moped. There, I said it. And it wasn’t just the droopy-bouncy little locks of hair. It was his whole wistful, melancholy demeanor—the way such recollections invariably transformed him from a stalwart Republic soldier to a tragic cupcake (to borrow an expression from my adolescent self). I think that’s why I kept wanting to go chat with him and ask him questions early in our acquaintance. (Oh, how he bellyached about that at first! Though that, in its way, was cute too. And hey, he was arguably the one who started it with the “I’m all ears, beautiful” business.)

---

Torian Cadera in Finding My Way Back by SabyneAmberle

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Starkiller in Whiskers' One-Shots : LucasArt Drabbles - Part 2 by whiskers
Writing the LucasArts drabbles was a fun experience, and I loved working on Starkiller's. So much hidden depth in the character to be put forward.

Assassin.

Slave.

Weapon.

Starkiller had been called all of these things and more. He was Vader's secret apprentice, a dark blade forged to carry out his master's will and it alone.

He was nothing now, a nameless tool without a wielder. The old wound that Vader inflicted still stung, even though the physical stab had healed. He stared at the ruined facade of the old Jedi Temple, called to it by some urge he can't identify. His feelings tell things, though:

He's not a slave.

He's not a weapon.

He has a name.

---

Kyle Katarn in Dark Forces: Rogue Mission by whiskers

Having to write an introduction to a Dark Forces story, I was really drawn into the James Bond method of an action-packed opening tangentially related to the main plot. Here, Kyle is in the middle of an Imperial base, downloading Imperial files while the guards are right outside.

The base's computer beeped as the data within transferred from the memory core to the data disk plugged in it. The transfer bar slowly moved forward on the screen, taking each centimeter seemingly at its leisure.

"I should have just taken the damn thing with me," Kyle Katarn said. His brown eyes darted back and forth from the screen to the door in front of him, blaster pistol raised up to it. The corpse of the base's commander sat sprawled out in the chair next to Kyle, the blaster wound in his chest still sent smoke up into the air.

TRANSFER COMPLETE, the computer screen blinked. Kyle removed the datacard from the system and secured it in the side pocket of his brown leather jacket. He removed the comlink from his belt and thumbed it on. "Jan, I've got the database, time for a lift out of here." He holstered his blaster pistol and replaced it with the rifle hanging from his shoulder.

He walked towards the door and leaned up against the wall. His hand hovered over the control panel, gloved fingers hovering millimeters over the console. The back of his head tingled in a weird form of intuition that usually meant that danger was close by. He dropped the blaster rifle and let it hang loose around his shoulder by the sling. One of the many thermal detonators that hanged from a belt on his waist came loose with a quick tug. The spherical grenade's activation switch clicked with an easy slide and the agent quickly opened the door with his free hand. With a certain predictability, the stormtroopers outside of the door opened fire, red-hot bolts of plasma filling the empty space. Kyle tossed the detonator behind him and huddled behind the wall as the sphere exploded.

​

---

​

Jan Ors in Dark Forces: Rogue Mission by whiskers

Her attempt to assassinate the Head of the Imperial School of Torturers has failed and Jan Ors has been imprisoned. She is not, however, completely helpless...

The door hissed open and in the second that she had paused, reflexes dulled by fatigue, the first stormtrooper had taken his first step into the room. Her left hand moved up and grabbed the white breastplate of the soldier and holding it as hard as she could. The blade in her right hand hummed as she brought it to the captive Imperial's throat.

The blade met the slightest of resistances as it encountered the airtight bodyglove and dug into the skin below, choking the soldier's startled cry. Blood ran warm and red down the white armor and her fingers as she sliced downwards.

With a shove of her shoulders against the dying soldier's midsection, Jan pushed the struggling stormtrooper out into the hallway, right where his companion had been the last time. A cry of surprise mixed with the clanking of a blaster rifle hitting the floor. "Prisoner esc...!".

The agent moved quickly, dropping her blade and racing for the fallen blaster before the other gun could be brought to bear upon her. The lone stormtrooper began to push his fatally wounded companion off of his body and grabbed for the dark blaster rifle at his side while Jan's swiftly aimed at him. The red beam of energy from her blaster struck him in the head, instantly killing him.

Jan collapsed against the wall, breathing heavily, eyes peering down the hallway for any more Imperial troops. The dying stormtrooper kicked feebly at the ground, a hand up to his mangled throat as he futilely attempted to hold his life blood inside of him even as it puddled crimson on the gray floor. The rebel raised her blaster rifle, aiming at center mass, and gave him the mercy that he would never show her.

 

Best Original Character

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Kash Ferros in But One Hour Mine by divapilot

Mirany sees Kash in the marketplace and attraction ignites.

Rarely did a man like Kash walk by.

It wasn’t that he was stunningly handsome, although he was attractive in his own way. But he had something – something indefinable – that she connected to immediately. Maybe it was the wide smile he gave her. Or his almost-trimmed dark beard, scruffy enough to be endearing. Or his striking hair, dark, thick with curls that looped over each other like waves. Or the way he walked with such confidence, unlike his friends who seemed to simply meander through the marketplace like lost pookas. All of that aside, what struck her the most was the way she felt when their gazes met. It was as if when he looked at her in that moment, right before the tool sliced her palm, his dark eyes saw all of her. Every part, in one glance.

She knew better than to believe in love at first sight. That foolishness was best left to giddy schoolgirls. Mirany was not unfamiliar with the excitement of love, of having a suitor shyly hold a gift in his hand for her, or of the way an awkward embrace could evolve over time to a passion that left her warm and breathless. Let her sister Saphra experience it. It was her turn now; Mirany’s time had come and gone. It was no matter. Mirany’s days had assumed a comfortable rhythm with her job, her books, her home with her parents and sister, even her walks along the seawall with her pet mooka barking ineffectively at the ocean the whole while.

That she would find a man intriguing based solely on a shared glance baffled her.

---

Lil in Letters Never Sent by Ewok Poet

Groyo Stagger, Lil’s new friend on Vagran drops him to the top of the Chiro Mountain, for the purpose of having a mystical experience and seeing the alleged semi-Humanoid, semi-equine Goddess. This does not happen, but Lil does take a deep look inside of his soul instead.

Silence. Both inside of my heart and on the outside. Had I not been educated to know it cannot be so, I would’ve honestly thought that my pumping machine skipped a beat right there, out of mere inability to pick one more thing. Can I really call it any other way? I don’t feel real enough right now. I don’t feel like what I have left in my chest could even be called a heart sometimes. I’m too removed from what my life should have been like in order to make anything even remotely resembling the right choice.

And now I am sure that nobody knows if the Goddess exists because they could not come up with the fourth problem.

Lil, you are trying to normalise your lack of ability to decide.

I am almost certain that once one starts reminiscing about everything that has ever happened, there can only be a tide of problems, resembling the waves down there on the beach.

Lil, you are trying to convince yourself that everybody has had a life as strange as yours.

Who is this speaking?

Who is this judging me?

Who is this Goddess?

Is she actually my conscience?

Is this how it works?

I don’t actually see an equine individual with a humanoid face.

Then again, I cannot see inside of what I just defined as a pumping mechanism.

Or can I?

---

Telfien Viurraanvi in The Book of Gand by Findswoman

After her intuition receives a shock during a practice meditation supervised by Zuckuss and Volokoss, Telfien is sent to her quarters and assigned a cycle of calming meditations—but her feelings of shame make difficult for her to concentrate.

Dark feelings were plaguing her, hampering the motion of her Inner Mists. She felt bitterly ashamed of herself for what had happened in the teaching room. Inadvertently or not, how could she exhibit such shocking lack of control before her two teachers—her two kind, wise teachers, who had taken her in to the temple and given her the chance to fulfill her potential? It was no one’s fault but her own that they had seen fit to end her lesson early and confine her to her quarters like a prisoner.

She opened her eyes, shifted her position, and began the opening sequence again. Minutes passed; still nothing happened.

If something like this had happened during her regular lesson—as sometimes did in the case of beginning apprentices—Volokoss would have asked Zuckuss to sit beside her and join her in beginning the same meditative discipline. That way his intuitive impulse would bolster hers, and she could advance to the realm of the Mists without difficulty. But Zuckuss was not here. There was no one else except for the armed healing servant by the door, who no doubt had been instructed to stun her if anything went amiss. And indeed—Telfien could not help but think to herself—did she really deserve anyone’s help after all the trouble she had caused?

She looked around. A small green incense lamp flickered on a small table beside the meditation couch. Beside it sat her moonbow orchid in its pot. Its bloom stalks were now tipped with silvery-white buds, one of which had just begun to open. [...]

Telfien turned away and hung her head. Quietly but bitterly the sobs welled up in her crop; her mandibles rattled, her whole body trembled.

---

Master Forgo in The Broken Boy and the Blind Master by gaarastar58

‘Enough, enough, I give up,’ said Forgo, waving his hands. ‘Just because you can leap twenty feet into the air doesn’t mean that you should. The moment your feet leave the ground you’re committed to a move you can’t change. Any opponent with an iota of sense or Force awareness will cut you in half.’

‘Yeah but how often are we ever going to face someone like that?’ said one of the Knights.

Forgo huffed. ‘Since you seem to know it all let’s try something else.' The elderly Master stepped into the centre of the arena and drew his lightsaber. ‘I’ll go easy on you.’

The scene that followed would be etched into Anakin’s mind for the rest of his life. Lightsabers whirled and clashed, throwing sparks where their energy blades licked each other. Forgo’s weapon became a spinning vortex of green energy, an impenetrable barrier that none of his students could breach. They began to get impatient and threw themselves forward in reckless attacks, trying to outflank the old man, but even six-on-one they didn’t stand a chance. Forgo moved with the prefect balance of economy and ferocity, batting aside their pale attempts to break his defence. His moves were quick and precise, and although his display didn’t look as pretty as the sparring the Knights had been engaged in before, they were far more effective.

Anakin watched, awestruck, as the young Knight who had scoffed at Forgo swung his blade at the old man, only to have it deflected and receive a crushing kick to the ribs which sent him tumbling to the floor. Soon the chamber was littered with a groaning assortment of Knights in various degrees of pain.

‘Lesson concluded,’ grunted Forgo, shutting off the weapon and returning it to a clip on his belt.

---

Mathilda Taafe in Something is shining like gold, but better by Pandora

This evening, after dinner, I talked the play, and other matters, over with Brother Mercy, my new Assistant Teacher, as we went for our usual walk through the fading dusk, when the air becomes easier to breath and swallow. The sky was a bruised-dark blue, and one of the suns glared out from just behind the ragged shadow of the Dragonteeth.

That should be prove to be interesting, he said, when I told him about my plan for the staged reading. I’ve looked into this playwright a bit myself. My one associate in Mos Alba told me that apparently, she was originally a slave.

She was, I said. But you won’t find that out in the holonet.

That was one of the first things Kitster told me during our first conversation, after he asked if I was an outlander. (And yes: I should have mentioned that in my opening missive, and I know better than to try to excuse it away). His static-hissed voice was casual through my com speaker: You do know she was a slave.

After I apologized for the second time, he had said (with a faint amused leap to his voice): Oh, no need for that! I should have guessed you hadn’t heard. The Hutts like it that way.

Then he told me what they had left out, which I went on to tell Brother Mercy: Apparently, she earned her own freedom through the ways of the trickster. And no, I don’t know what that means. She didn’t hold back in her work, either. According to my contact in Mos Entha, the Hutts banned this particular play from performance for years.

It looks like you’re teaching our students subversive ways, then, Brother Mercy said, with a snapped arch of his eyebrows. Good on you.

 

Best Villain/Antagonist

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Sheev Palpatine in Rage, rage against the dying of the light by AzureAngel2

Synopsis with brief excerpts:
With my fanfic I wanted to show the private Sheev, who is not less scary, but shows more depths of feeling and some humanity:

“People just want to see what suits them.” Sheev grins so big that it lights up the corner booth that we sit in. “I could be a black unicorn and they would mistake me for an old gelding.”
Without warning my uncle gets up and walks up to the old-fashioned jukebox. He puts a Republic credit inside and makes his choice. (Chapter 5)

He loves not only music, but a good wine, hobby cooking and absolute power. Oh and he enjoys cruising through the night:

“Let us have a ride!” he announces in between two music scores.“Like in the old days.”
“A ride,” I repeat. “Are you desperate for trouble with traffic control?”

His laughter roars through the room. He looks like a much younger man now. There is a happy glow around him. (Chapter 4)

And he cares for his niece.

“Nagina, I am a Sith. Therefore, I love in ways that you might find unnatural and hard to bear. But I am not heartless when it comes to you and your needs.”(Chapter 19)

And, using a RotS dialogue that was cut out by Lucas, he has a secret son and eccentric educational methods Nagina despises:

“I will be the Sith religion and he will follow me.”

“This is not how a father-son relationship should be!”

“Excuse me!” Darkness crawls over his features. He lowers his voice to a hoarse whisper. But each word gets to me anyway. Cuts through me like a light sabre. “This is the only way any relationship works for me.”(Chapter 5)

I also enjoyed giving him a wicked humour and a jest for life.

---

Aurra Sing in Word Gets Around by Briannakin

Infamous pirate, criminal, Jedi hunter, assassin, and general horrible person Aurra Sing shows mercy for one time in her life.

Aurra Sing was not used to such places. It was not the quiet, dimly lit grey halls, nor the darkness; not the death that hung in the air nor the stench of cleaning and sanitation chemicals. It wasn’t even the faint metallic sent of humanoid blood. She felt at home in all those elements. It was the peace.

She had not felt such tranquility since her time as a youngling in the Jedi Temple, before she had been torn from that life by a kidnapping and other misadventures that had forever turned her life, not that she had ever been suited for such things as peace. Perhaps that is why she wanted to run, or kill something.

She had to be in the wrong place.

But all the rumours said Hondo was being held here.

Slipping around another corner, she spotted the cell number.

No. She mentally corrected herself. Room number.

It felt… odd, entering a room without having to crack a lock or blow it open, though the contents of the room looked remarkably like some Republic prisons: a small window, nightstand, chair, and a bunk with some pathetic being laying on it.

[...]

“My dear? Is that you?”

She couldn’t help but grin at his accent. Such emotion cracked her normally serious face. She sauntered in, allowing her long legs to swing her hips, letting her arms dangle, flicking tendrils of auburn hair off her shoulder. She was bald with the exception of her classic high ponytail, currently in dreadlocks. She was almost glad she had settled on a black jumpsuit for this business. It would give an old man a thrill before he died.

“Who else would it be, my sweetheart? Everyone else you know is either dead or is glad that you are dying.”

---

Armitage Hux in Bad Romance by divapilot

In this AU, Breha Solo, Han and Leia’s daughter, has just been told by her husband, Armitage Hux, that he has arranged to send their four-year-old daughter away to a military academy.

She looked up at him, her lip trembling but her stance firm. “You don’t get to take my child away without my consent. I am your wife and I deserve to be treated as your equal.”

He stared at her, unimpressed by her little display. “You were a peace offering,” he spat. “I married you on the request of Supreme Leader Snoke so that we could find some way to control your rebellious little family.” He snatched her hand and squeezed it, and she winced. “You are married to a general. Act like a general’s wife.”

“My mother’s a general, too,” she muttered.

Now his rage flared openly. “Your mother is a traitor.” He pushed her against the wall, his hands on her shoulders. She flinched and turned her face away from his. “You took an oath to obey me when we married. An unbreakable oath. I am ordering you to never refer to that Force witch again. Thank the gods you didn’t inherit that ability from her.” He leaned in even closer. “You would be wise to watch your words, Breha. Your brother is on my ship. It would be unfortunate if something were to happen to him. You know how recklessly impulsive he can be.”

Armitage caught his breath, his temper subsiding, then he stepped away and dropped his hands to his side. He shook his head, then straightened his black tunic. He sighed. “Darling, let’s not argue. It’s our anniversary. I have a gift for you.” He held out his hand and waited. Slowly she raised her own hand and placed it in his.

---

Roula of Pelayn in Midday Darkness // The Light is Me, I Am The Light by Ewok Poet

Roula, Dyeke’s rich fair-weathered friend, suddenly kisses him and proposes to him He replies that falling in love is “not progressive”, aware that she can’t love and didn’t visit him for months in hospital, and she goes on to explain why he would be a good fit for a husband.

Roula smirked and looked up first, refusing for her eyes to meet mine. She counted on her fingers and, eventually, took a deep breath and begun her doctrine-infected mini-speech.

“One can see you’re a progressive individual after all. You know how things work. Of course, the Book of Law does not tell you that romance and sex were popularised in order to keep control of the more problematic individuals and keep them away from the important matters in the interest of Progress and Unity. Repression of the sexes of lower importance in a species – that is, Human females and Selonian and Drall males – keeps the system safe.” She paused and took a deep breath, to deliver the final blast. “But…that is also why individuals like you are expected to willingly submit to your superior partner’s desires.”

[…]​

“But don’t worry, that is not going to happen here. You were sick for so long, you’re the son of a yellow and a white and your genes would not result in what I want.” She clapped her tiny hands. “I am fascinated by this system used on Kuat, these alleged Telbuns. I can totally see how a similar system would result in much, much better genetics for my offspring. While I cannot actually have a nameless man-slave, I can always have the perfect donor. When the time comes, I will have it my way – find the perfect piece of DNA in the system-wide records and opt for artificial insemination, then make sure I do not carry a baby boy. But that individual would not be used for anything else. He would not even know that he fathered Her future Drallship.”

---

Master Davip in Schism by Jedi_Perigrine
(withdrawn from competition at author's request)

 

Relationship Categories

Best Established Relationship

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Bail Organa & Breha Antilles in So Much More Than Fairytales: The Courtship of Prince Bail by Briannakin

Breha never believed in true love; Bail knew he was doomed to an arranged, loveless marriage; yet they overcame so many reasons to say no to their vows.

"[...] Prince Bail Prestor Organa, do you love Breha? Do you swear to honour, obey, and serve her every need; to put her and her needs above all others? Will you celebrate her victories and be at her side during hardships?”

Breha had to stop herself from rolling her eyes at the traditional vows. She had tried to lobby Queen Mazicia and Kinena to change them, but they insisted on them. But there was one final line that Breha knew Bail wrote:

“Will you sleep at her side in health and stay awake in vigil if sickness takes her body or mind? Will you love her?”

Bail smiled, squeezed Breha’s hand and said, “I do and I will.”

Noelak turned to Breha. “Breha Morgaine Antilles, do you love Bail? Do you swear to listen, consider his council, and trust in him wholly? Do you swear to swear to share your laughs and your tears; to hold him close and to let him hold you? Will you stand by his side in rain and in drought? Will you kiss him in health and hold him ailments. Will you love him?”

This was her moment. Her decision at the end. But it wasn’t a hard one. “I do and I will.”

[...]

“Man am I glad that is over,” he said, pulling her to him.

She leaned on his chest and heaved a sigh. “You do know we still have holos to take, a dinner, a reception…”

He cut her off with another kiss. “Sunshine, I love you. Please shut up and let me hold you and enjoy the fact that we made it through that ceremony.”

Breha closed her eyes as they bathed in their happiness.

---

Teebo & Latara in The Brightest of the Stars (When Teebo Met Latara) by Ewok Poet

Little Teebo can hear trees’ whispers, but he can’t actually understand it until he meets Latara, a girl one snow younger who shocks everybody at the Hood Festival by not accepting her white hood with flowers and walks up to him bare-headed and places a feather on his baggy cap.

“I’m Teebo.” He finally managed to utter, offering her his hand.

“I’m Latara.” She attempted to bow, the way she saw the white-furred princess do it. “Your wife.”

“I don’t want a wife…” he pulled out his hand.

“You do. All boys do! We can play hut and someday –” she leaned to whisper into his ear. “– we can play healers, too. And you’re going to be privileged, because I am the prettiest girl on Endor. Just ask Prince Jierhook…who is uglaay! Nowhere near as cute as you.”

Why was she pulling the words out of his mind, out of his head? The “hut” part, that is. He had no idea what the “healers” part was supposed to mean.

Who was Prince Jierhook? And how come he looked better than him?

And why was he suddenly able to hear what the trees were saying?

“You can see her, through her, above her…but you cannot see beyond her.” The choir of green- and golden-needled conifers echoed inside of his head. “You cannot see beyond her. There is nothing beyond her. She is your brightest star, she is the brightest of the stars.”

And just like that, every single word uttered by the creatures of the forest was no longer gibberish to him. His nature powers had been finally awakened, by the most powerful of them all. Somebody, in her childish sincerity, was the first Ewok to believe in him, other than those whose blood flowed through his veins.

And this was where little Teebo knew that you could not truly see without truly being seen. He would come to the same conclusion many more times and was surer and surer of it each time, but it would always happen with his beloved Latara.

---

R2-D2 & C-3PO in The Wedding Trip by Hopefulwriter

“Oh, Artoo, it is SO good to be back.” Threepio sighed to his counterpart as he entered the droid room. “I feel as though I could shut down my circuits for a week.’

“Weeble oomph pshew.”

“Yes, I missed you, too.

“Did I ENJOY the trip? Really, Artoo, that word has positively no relationship to the journey. I hope I NEVER again have to accompany Mistress Leia and General, uh, Captain Solo on that thing called a ‘honeymoon’”.

“Meep lop ep uha noy.

“Of COURSE I’m confused. You’d be too if you had been the one required to go with them. Oh, everything went so well…the wedding, the reception, the preparations for the departure - until we were gone.”

“Weema squitch pmig?”

“What was the problem?!? Artoo, you are ignorant of what you ask.

‘BLZZzzzzzz.”

‘ARTOO! You had best watch your language.”

“Peep, zoot, dit?”

“Stop interrupting me, Artoo.”

“Ohemp soo ick.”

“Well, you SHOULD be interested. How are you ever going to expand your technical tapes if all you concern yourself with is the life beings adventures?”

“Phshez wheaaz.”

“Oh, my goodness no, Artoo, I certainly could NOT just call him ‘Han’. How improper.. why Her Highness would have me melted down for being so disrespectful!”

“Ommp wip loe pip.”

“You’re certainly being nosy about this trip, Artoo. It’s not polite to pry.”

“Lema zicmk.”

“Do you always have to ask such irrelevant questions?”

“TTT eee.”

“Blee hap ne a kie?”

“Oh, Artoo, if I tell you…you must promise NEVER to repeat it.”

“Platpst.”

“Artoo, where are you going? Don’t you know it’s rude to walk away when someone is talking to you ?”

“Zit Zit.”

“But, Artoo, there’s more…..

“Blamph.”

“It is all TRUE. I am NOT fabricating any of this. Artoo…..ARTOOOooooo….”

---

Luke Skywalker & Mara Jade in Things Fall Apart by Irish_Jedi_Jade

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Kyle Katarn & Jan Ors in Dark Forces: Rogue Mission by whiskers

Going into this fic, I had one problem with the characters: how close to a relationship are Kyle and Jan at this point? I knew they'd been denying their feelings at this point, but how could I go and put that onto the page? I hope I did it justice.

"As fun as this has been, I take it that you're not here just to give me a hard time," he said.

"No," she said. The grin on her face faded into the thin-lipped expression she wore when things had gotten serious. "I'm just here to say that if you get a mission in the next month, you're going to be on your own."

"Was that what that meeting was about?" he asked. "You've got something of your own lined up?"

"Shouldn't be that tough of one," she said as she gave him a reassuring smile that he noticed was slightly forced.

Kyle gestured to the ship to his left. "Well, if you need to use the Crow, she's yours. You usually fly her, anyway."

"I appreciate it," she said. He could see the tan skin on her cheeks redden slightly. "But the Crow would be little recognizable where I'm headed."

"Old stomping grounds?"

Jan shot him a frown. "Let's leave it at that," she said. "If Mon Mothma knew I even hinted at that..."

Kyle nodded in understanding. He had worked with the Rebellion's leader as an aligned mercenary for over three years, but their initial first impression had been less than stellar. "Well, where ever you're going, take care."

"Judging from all I've seen?" she said. "Without me, you're the one who's going to need to be careful."

He watched her begin to walk away, their conversation over but with words left unsaid. "Jan," he said. She turned around and he thought he caught the briefest hint of apprehension on her face before quickly assuming a more neutral expression. "If you need help, you know where to reach me."