Saga Volshe's Archives - Short Stories, One Shots, Drabbles - 10/20 (First Sentence Challenge - Endgame)

A misty, stone library...filled with short holonovels...some worn, some new...all by the same author.

I needed a place for my drabbles/vignettes/one-shots, so here it is. This is tagged Saga, but the titles in the index will be color coded depending on their respective eras. They don't look like links, but the titles are clickable.



INDEX:

Angel - One-shot - Drama - Darth Vader visits Padmé's tomb a year after her death and reflects. (07/26/2015, originally 07/24/2012)
Aftermath - One-shot - Drama - Firmus Piett's family (OCs) deal with the aftermath of Endor. (07/26/2015)
Dinner and a Show - One-shot - Crackfic/humour - Jar Jar makes a fool of himself while trying to impress the most beautiful Gungan he has ever laid eyes upon (07/27/2015)
The Adventures of Mary Sue! - Drabbles - Crack-fic/humour - The Mary Sue OC who stares - and changes the films and characters with just one creepy look! (08/04/2015)
Luke's Other Mentor - One-shot - Crack-fic/humour - Luke's got a new mentor, and he's a familiar face... (08/20/2015)
Fate - One-shot - Drama - Alternate scene for Padmé's passing in ROTS, Obi-Wan has more emotion to deal with. (9/11/2015)
Endgame - One-shot - First Sentence Challenge - Ysanne Isard approaches the Emperor regarding her father Armand's betrayal, and has concoted a plan to be rid of him. 10/20/2015)

Stories Not In This Thread:
Home- One-shot - Drama/Adventure/Bit of Fluff - The Cold War is coming to an end, and the Republic and Empire have chosen Aravis III as their next battleground. Aeris and Thoth - two miners/workers must face the future and decide whether or not to defend their home.
Volshe's Olympic Drabbles - Drabbles - Mutliple genres. Drabble collection for the FanFic Olympics, 2015.

 

Angel

Darth Vader walked through the long hallways, the night's darkness shrouding the elaborate decorations. His boots clicked along the marble floors. He glanced at the paintings on the walls around him. Their faces seemed to follow him with disdain, their peace interrupted by his presence. Marble columns marked a new passageway. He entered and light spilled from a lone lantern. The yellow beams danced upon a large wooden door and two more paintings. The face in these paintings was heavenly, adorned in regal attire. Locks of brunette hair seemed to gleam in the lone light.

The man stepped forward into the light, his black mask and armor shining. Silently, he stood before one of the pictures. He recognized the face well; it was one he held dear. One he had lost. An echo of his breathing penetrated the small room's quiet and he turned away. With a wave of his gloved hand, the heavy wood door swung open.

The room glittered in white and blue from the moonlight. Stained glass created an effect of rippling water on a large stone coffin in the center. She had loved the water. His figure stepped into the room and moved aside a bouquet of sweet smelling flowers. He fell to his knees, bowing his head slowly. From his cloak he produced a single fragile blossom of pale pink. The petals were soft, and cascaded to the stem. He placed it gently on the lid of her casket.
It was her favorite.

His memories of her flooded his mind and for the first time in a year, he let them. A few stung him like sharp knives. He embraced the pain. It was nothing compared to the way he hated himself for giving her up. Nothing compared to losing everything he had built around them.

His throat began to tighten as he held back tears. His respirator sped up and his chest ached with despair. A single orb of water ran down his face, hidden by the mask. He laid a hand on the large stone coffin, trying to imagine her lying beneath the cold surface. The intricate carvings laced around his glove and he began to trace them delicately. There were so many things he wanted say, so many emotions ran through him. Another tear broke through his barriers and he gave in to grief.
His Angel's voice seemed to echo through the room.

I truly… deeply… love you. And before we die, I want you to know.

The image of her face was so clear. The fear she hid behind a calm gracefulness. In that moment, nothing else seemed to matter. She gave him her heart thinking it was the last thing she would ever give.

Why had he been so selfish? She believed in him, she loved him, and now she was gone. It was all his fault, he had hurt her. Maker, he had killedher.

Anakin, please.

The sound of her pleading voice drove a saber through his chest. How could I?His tears were uncontrollable now, heavy sobs echoed in sync with his ventilator. He had murdered his Angel, the only one he had cherished. What he wouldn't give to hold her in his arms, to see her beautiful face again, watch her chestnut curls glitter in the Naboo sunset. But it would never happen. He had made sure of that. He lost everything, because he didn't want to lose her.

A quiet whisper escaped him. "I'm sorry." Two words so simple, yet so difficult to say. He closed his eyes, searching for a sign. He didn't expect one; any type of forgiveness was beyond possible. How could she forgive the monster he had become? The same monster that killed her, and killed hundreds of innocent beings.

Why had he been so arrogant, so blind? He still was and he couldn't change that. The realization of how far he had fallen chilled him. The room seemed to dull. He knew he couldn't stay any longer. She was gone now and he couldn't deny he was the reason why. Not wanting to disturb her slumber, he stood, and moved to the doorway. He let one last tear of grief fall down his face. His figure began to turn slowly away with a few final words.


"I love you, Angel. Goodbye."

 

Exquisite! Just. I'm watching this thread, for sure.

You have Vader's voice down to an art and a science. Totally on-target.

 

I don't know why I like to break my own heart... but I do! In the midst of writing my Firmus Piett AU, I had to write this little one shot. It's based off the events of ROTJ (the crash of the Executor).

Summary: A sad, emotional, and drama filled one shot. Firmus' family (my OCs) deal with the aftermath of Endor.

-------

Aftermath

The doorbell rang.

“Mom, someone’s at the door. They’re wearing uniforms!”

Setting down the tray of mallow biscuits, she dusted off her hands and started for the door. She talked to herself quietly; trying to figure out why there would be anyone visiting this late. Especially in uniform. She reassured herself it was something simple, that there was nothing wrong. She ignored the last 24 hours – the worry she had endured, the hope she had crushed every time the holocomm rang.

Ever the optimist. You are the brightest, most beautiful star I have seen. His voice echoed in her ears, as if he were right beside her in the hallway. She bit her lip and brushed away a stray golden red curl.

She turned the corner into the foyer. The mottled glass morphed the visitors into swirls of olive and black. The light of dusk streamed in behind them, casting shadows on the white marble floors. Taking a breath, she grasped the door’s control switch and flicked it open. It screamed lightly as it opened. The two men looked up. One held a datapad, the other a metal box. The box had a window on the top, but the lights outside reflected off the top and hid its contents.

“Good evening,” she smiled, trying to hide her tired eyes, “Can I help you?”

“Are you…Valyn Piett?”

She nodded. “I am.”

They looked to each other, their eyes speaking to each other soundlessly.

“We are officers of COMPNOR and the Imperial Navy,” the one in black holding the datapad stepped forward, “I am Lieutenant Grish, this is Ensign Rieks.”

Valyn looked at them, suddenly realizing why they were there.

“No,” she said, quietly. Her hands began to tremble, “It can’t be.”

“I’m..sorry. Your husband…” his voice was quiet, his face morose.

Tears burned in her eyes, though every other part of her felt numb. She tried to blink them away as if it were all just a dream.

“You’ve made a mistake. He was supposed to call me, he's just busy.”

“Ma’am,” the officer replied, “I’m sorry, there’s no mistake.”

She felt sick. Her arm slammed into the doorframe, steadying her trembling figure. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. She was supposed to see him next week, after months apart. He had promised her he would be safe. He had just called her a day prior, before the battle. Her head hung forward. Her face was contorted into grief as she looked back up to them. Her entire body was shaking now.

The one in black, Grish, stepped forward and gently took her arm. She shook him off.

“I don’t want you here anymore. I don’t. Go. Just…go.” Valyn held her voice steady as best she could, the words threatening to become screams. Rage and sorrow clutched her heart. Her mind was still repeating the words from before.

I’m sorry. Your husband…

Everything around her felt threatening. She wanted to be alone. She wanted everything to go away, to leave her in peace.

“Ma’am,” the ensign held out the box, “This is for you. It’s his ceremonial uniform. I served with him, after Hoth. He was an exceptional Imperial and an even better man.”

She grasped it, the cold metal unforgiving in her hands. The familiar olive fabric looked back at her, his rank bar clipped pristinely on the right.

“Please,” she looked to them, tears running down her face, “Please let me be alone.”

They nodded. “Another officer will contact you with further information – he’s been ordered a full class-4 funeral service.”

She shook her head. Class 4. One below any head of state, any Inner Circle member…the highest honor he could receive. What did it matter, though? What did it matter? He was gone, she was holding his uniform. His empty, cold, uniform.

“Goodbye,” Valyn replied, her voice cracking. She shut the door on them and collapsed against it, sliding to the ground.

Valyn closed her eyes and leaned her head back, letting the tears roll down her face. He couldn’t be gone. He had three children, he had her. They loved him. How could the universe possibly rip him away from them? There was no way. It was all some elaborate scheme. She grasped the box in her hands and tried to stand. Her legs quavered and she had to steady herself on the walls.

A wall of sorrow built up in her chest, but she ignored it. Everything was going to be okay. She had just missed his call. They were mistaken. He had just called her and she had missed it. The holocomm was off or the alerts broken. She stepped the short distance into the office, still steadying herself against the walls. It was dark, empty. The holocomm’s console glowed in the darkness. A beacon of hope. She set the box down and gripped the chair behind it, switching it on.

She pressed the call record, waiting for it to load. Her mind already anticipated what it would show in its soft blue glow.

Missed calls: Firmus Piett.

It beeped three times before displaying the list of missed calls. The blue light shone in the dark room, three words appearing.

Missed calls: None.

She shook her head again. Heavy sobs rolled through her body. She could think of nothing but his face, the face she had seen months prior as they embraced. His arms were around her, his warm scent surrounded her the same way. She had closed her eyes and listened as he promised he would return once again. His words were always soft, soothing. She promised him he’d be fine in return, that she had never known someone so brilliant or courageous.

Her mind was floating in the sea of despair. Everything around her was numb. Everything felt wrong, fake, as if she were separated from reality. She clutched the metal box to her chest and sat on the ground, wishing he would just walk in the door and tell her this was all a horrible nightmare.

“Mom?”

A set of worried eyes peered in the doorway. “What’s going on? I heard them at the door. Are you okay?”

Valyn’s heart dropped. She set down the box to her side and met his gaze. How would she tell them? How would she tell Zeven his father would never be back to teach him how to fly? How would she tell Callista he would never see her graduate from the Bellassa Medical Academy? How would she explain to young Keirei he would never again tell her stories about the Galaxy?

“Zeven,” his name trembled as she spoke it. She didn’t know how to do this. How could she tell the children their father was never coming home? How could she break their hearts like that? She could feel the broken, bleeding heart inside her own chest. The one that was shattered to thousands of tiny, irreparable shards. She couldn’t do that. What cruel Force expected her to do that to her own children? They had all left this morning with smiles on their faces and they would be returning to…this.

He walked in the room, his socked feet padding on the rug. His brown hair shone with the blue light of the holocomm. He knelt down and hugged her, his small frame feeling so fragile in her arms.

“Is that…” He was looking at the box on the floor. His youthful grey-green eyes studied it for a moment. “Mom, is dad okay?”

Valyn shook her head, her eyes shutting in an attempt to hold back tears.

“Oh,” he replied, before falling silent. The quiet was overwhelming. She held Zeven close, not wanting him to slip away from her. She didn’t want to be alone now.

“He’s…” Zeven’s soft voice spoke again, muffled by her embrace. “He’s not coming home, is he?”

Valyn bit her lip and let him go. He fell back on his heels, his face now red with tears.

“No, sweetheart. I’m…” she could hear the officer saying the words as she did. “I’m sorry.”

He stood up, abruptly, wiping his eyes and turning for the door. He rarely showed any distress, just like his father. The realization sent a stab of pain through her chest.

“It will be alright, Zev,” she called, trying to somehow save him from the torture she herself endured. “It will be alright.”

She didn’t believe a word out of her mouth, but she hoped that somehow – the words were truth.
“I don’t know, mom,” he replied. He avoided her eyes and slipped back out of the room. She could hear his soft footsteps as they headed to his room.

She didn’t know either. All around the Galaxy they had been celebrating, rejoicing over the deaths of the Emperor and Lord Vader. They celebrated hope and freedom. But the Galaxy – the war - had left her without her husband, without her love. And it had left her children without a father. Her hope lay in shambles and 15 years of memories lie packed neatly in a cold metal box beside her. She grasped the holocomm transceiver in her fist and threw it, hating the one who had killed him. It shattered into pieces as it hit the wall. They rained to the ground. It lay broken on the floor, just like her very soul. She picked up the box again and held it in her lap, trying to imagine him wearing the uniform.

Valyn closed her eyes, pulling a damp strand of hair from her face. She would count to five and he would be back. He would walk in the door as if nothing had changed.

Each number was more painful that the last. As she reached 5 her eyes opened, looking expectantly at the door. Nothing happened. Not a shadow, nor the screeching of the door. Not even a knock. Burying her face in her hands, she let herself break down completely. It was all too much. This was all too much. The sobs racked her body, so much that she felt she would fall apart. For a moment, she wished she would. She would be with him.

She looked at the box, tracing along it with one tear-stained finger. Her words were raw and fraught with pain.

“I love you. Please…please come home.”

 

Fantastic work here I enjoyed seeing how the imperial side deals with loss

 

Thank you so much! I find the balance of his voice difficult sometimes, since he's a little unstable, so I'm glad you think I did well.

Thank you!!

 

I hope you will tag me for upcoming tales

 

I sure will, thanks again

 

Angel:

Oooh, a missing scene! The new canon has nothing from this period of time and this is a scene that should be somewhere, even if it's just a flashback or something. I'd totally stick it into the current Darth Vader comic and have Aphra ask Vader what's going on.

Here, we're seeing a character whose role demands him to appear emotionless and whose outfit makes him look more of a machine than he actually is in a moment where he's completely broken, when he hurts somewhere the cybernetics cannot mend him. And it's great. He acknowledges what he had done and there's no one single point where he's trying to deny it, rationalise it or blame it on somebody else. It could be the very beginning of his eventual redemption.

That single reply from AotC looks great in the story as well. If it didn't have meaning at the point it was said, now it does.

And what's most horrifying about this story is that you're implying the obvious - he is still arrogant, but he cannot change that. Powerful, the dark side is.

...

Aftermath:

Love how this takes the title of the upcoming book, yet gives it a whole new meaning to the word. The way Piett dies in ROTJ is almost stupid and I never liked the fact that he had to go. He should've survived and ended up playing with korrina puppies on Endor or something.

You said, in a private conversation, that the relationship Piett will have with his wife in your AU will be about mutual respect, not too passionate and that fits how I see him perfectly. The children seem to be a lot like him, too, from their brief appearance - polite and kind.

The whole topic of being told that somebody you love died is a tricky one to write about - one has to either have experienced it or to just understand that it does not work like it would in most of the films and series. This was a trap and you avoided it perfectly. It could've been a complete, pathetic trainwreck and instead, Valyn acted the way my mom did when they called from the hospital and told her that her mother passed away. The scene made me shiver, and her reactions made sense, even that one moment where she was slightly aggressive.

Now I can't wait to see your AU and a completely different story.

I have no criticism, as of now. All is OK.

P.S. There are some spaces missing, as well as a couple of line breaks.

 

Beautifully written and indescribably poignant. Very much a universal thing, in war no side really truly wins, when it comes down to families who lose loved ones. I have a great deal of immediate sympathy for Valyn and her children.

 

Ooh, thanks

I do see this in my head-canon as the first moment he is brave enough to look back on himself and the first time he allows himself to realize the gravity of what he has done. Not with anger, but with actual thought and understanding.

Yes, I wanted to make that clear. Even though he has human emotions, he is still a product of everything that has happened. He is still Darth Vader. I figured it was more poignant to have his thoughts explain that instead of just pointing it out.

I'm anticipating some happy ending "Rebels win!" story, which may be true or not. Aftermath certainly implies a more melancholy tale to me (which is why I used it), but I don't think I can anticipate a real, hard-hitting examination of the war that makes you feel bad for everyone.

Having a huge soft spot for Imperials (especially Piett), ROTJ has actually always been somewhat of a tragedy. I am perfectly OK with Palpatine biting the dust, but all those other people...damn.

I think the Executor should have survived in general, but what do I know? I'm just a mild-mannered fan over here. Firmus Piett could have been an awesome EU character (provided they didn't completely go against Kenneth's portrayal), since he seems like real person just in the middle of the war.

There's actually a fic where he ends up on Endor. Mine he does not, but now I have the urge to write an AU to my AU...whoops.

I'm glad I got that across. I wanted them to be a quiet, happy family. None of the egotistical madness that half the old EU had. I wanted them to be real, relatable people. They'll definitely have more personality in the AU, too.

I've been through a lot of death and a lot of loss, so I do understand it...it sucks. Nobody this close for me, but close enough. I'm glad it made sense and wasn't a trainwreck. I was afraid of that. It's a fine line I didn't want to overstep.

I'll let you know when it's up. And thank you so very much for the comment

Thank you!! I'm humbled and glad I was able to evoke those emotions.

 

So...Ewok Poet wanted this. Crack fic isn't usually my style, so it's probably got some inconsistencies in tone and so on. But I tried!


Dinner and a Show

Jar Jar gazed across the tables at the restaurant. His drink was warm now. The bits of adder moss floated lifelessly in the sweet liquid. He sighed, his lips buzzing with the rush of air.

"Meesa nosa ever gon'to be findin' some bodies. Dissen be muy muy boopjak."

He sat up and gulped the rest of his drink. Everyone around him sat with a date, a friend, someone who they could share the evening with. Jar Jar had nobody. He heard the door open and cast a glance over to where the streetlights now filtered in.

Jar Jar froze. There she stood. The most beautiful Gungan Jar-Jar had ever seen. Her pale rose haillu were tied back against her beautiful textured skin, her jade eyes almost glowed in the light of the restaurant. She wore an outfit of gold and green. It was something out of a dream. His haillu quivered incredulously and his heart began to beat like a bodooka.

Hata hata! How is meesa gon' be impressin' her? Sheesa melli, muy, muy, melli!

He pondered it for a moment. Hearing her tell the host she wished to sit in the lounge, he got an idea. It wasn't too far away. In fact, it was right next to the small bawoonka band in the corner. He would request a song, then take the chance to talk to her. He stood up quickly, his eyes still on her. He noticed every detail about her as she made her way to the lounge area. What he did not notice was the fact his three toed feet were resting on the tablecloth. As he stood, the table's settings yanked out from under his feet and crashed to the floor.

He shrieked as he realized everyone was looking at him. He shrieked again when he smelled smoke , realizing the small candles from the tabletop had ignited the mess of cloth and silverware.

"Osossi, osossi," he exclaimed as the fire heated his 6 toes. "OSOSSI!"

Other patrons rose from their chairs and fled for the door. Jar Jar started frantically stomping on the flames, hoping to extinguish them.

"Outta meesa way, cloppen," a buff voice called, pushing him to the side and dousing the flames in water. Jar Jar stumbled backwards. His feet skittered on the wet floor, but he caught himself against a table. He exhaled and placed a hand on his head in exasperation. Gasps came from behind him, followed by the gentle clinking of glass.

He realized the table was stacked high with fluted glasses and bottles of blossomwine. The display was enormous, hundreds of glasses high. Jar Jar's eyes widened, his haillu splaying out in shock. The pyramid of glasses swayed precariously. He backed away slowly, feeling everyone's eyes on him in the now smoke filled room.

"Dissen berry bad. Berry bad."

He watched the glasses as they moved from side to side, hoping they would steady. For a moment, they seemed to. Then, the glass at the summit suddenly toppled over. A resounding crash sounded as it shattered down the display, taking 7 or 8 glasses with it. Shards of glass skid across the floor. He breathed a sigh of relief as the tower seemed to right itself yet again. His relief was short lived as the pyramid imploded on itself. The green-glass decanters of blossomwine fell to the floor, sending a tsunami of alcohol towards the dining area.

Jar Jar dove forward, frantically trying to catch the glasses before they met the floor. His tongue snapped out and grabbed the ones he couldn't reach. His arms full of expensive glasses, his feet smouldering in wine, he watched in horror as the remaining glasses all crashed onto the floor.

He turned around as the crash resounded through the dining room. Everyone was staring at him in utter shock. Even the bawoonka band had stopped playing now, their eyes on him in disbelief. One of the glasses rolled from his arms and exploded onto the ground.

"Oopsie." He tried to smile, a nervous laugh coming from his duck-like bill. Leaning on the bar, his eyes scanned the room, searching for the Gungan he had been hoping to impress. She was making her way towards him, cutting through the outer radius of his destruction. Her feet splashed in the mixture of soot, blossomwine, and water.

She knelt down and picked up an unbroken glass.

"Meesa think yousa droppin' this," she said, handing the flute to him. Her expression was obviously amused, her green eyes dancing in the candlelight. He reached out and took it, setting it on the table along with the ruins of the other glasses.

"Nommi," she said, much to Jar-Jar's surprise.

He stood in silence. Somehow, after all that, she was introducing herself.

"Meesa Jar-Jar," he replied. She tilted her head at him, her lip curled in confusion. Her hand reached out beside him and he turned. The bartender was handing her a dish of sweets. The female Gungan and bartender both looked at him blankly.

Jar-Jar shook his head. Snapping his tongue out, he grabbed a candy from the dish and gulped it down. He headed for the door, sloshing through the puddles he had created. The room was still silent. He made it to the door and tried to shove it open. It wouldn't budge. He tried again, two, three times. It was only then he realized he was supposed to pull it. He yanked it open and walked outside.


Meesa bein' right before. Dis boopjak. Shu bein' boopjak.

 

Oh rich! Thanks for the request poet! Fun stuff Volshe!

 

Man that Vader one is good AV.

 

Wow, that's almost how I imagined it. I love Erik Maell.
And thank you

 

You're very welcome

 

THANK YOU.

First of all...I had this playing in my head all day after reading this story.



Is that normal?

If not, what would Jar Jar prescribe me? I TRUST HIM. He's a politician, after all and they're 100% always right.

I enjoyed this slapstick a lot. The amount of things destroyed and broken and the plan that went wrong...bwahahahaha. I can even imagine it as what got Jar Jar banished from Otoh Gunga and this will be my headcanon from now on. And your Gungan basic is on spot, though I think mesa is the preferred spelling, as opposed to meesa.

 

Thank you!

Trusting Jar-Jar? That's your own life in your hands, lol.

I saw it both ways, I prefer meesa myself. But at least the rest of the Gungan Basic made sense to you!

 

The Adventures of Mary Sue!
Crack-fic inspired by the FanFic Pet Peeve OC who just stares.

-----

“Then love has blinded you?” Padmé smiled at Anakin and turned from the window.

“Well, that’s not exactly what I meant.” he grinned back, his wavy blonde hair glowing in the soft lamplight.

“Who…is that?”

Padmé pointed, her brow furrowed in confusion. Anakin twisted around to look. A…gorgeous, slim, woman stood there, wearing the most stylish of jumpsuits. Its skin-tight black leatheris amplified her perfect figure, her flawless porcelain skin contrasting it. Her perfectly styled deep blue hair shone in the moonlight, her violet eyes locked on him.

“I have no idea.”

“And why is she staring at us?”

“I have no idea.”

The woman’s eyes drilled into Anakin. Suddenly a rush of thoughts and visions came to him. It was though her eyes were holding endless knowledge.

“I think Palpatine is a Sith Lord,” Anakin blurted.

Padmé looked first at the woman, then to him. “What?”

“I think we need to send the Jedi after him and leave for Naboo.”

“What are you talking about Anakin?”

“He’s going to destroy the democracy and try to recruit me. As a Sith Lord.”

“Anakin, you’re spewing nonsense. None of that makes any sense.”

“But it’s true, look at her eyes.”

Padmé let her eyes meet with the woman’s. Hundreds of voices spoke at once, a flurry of information bombarded her psyche. But she saw the same things as Anakin had.
Slowly the woman faded to black.

Padmé just looked at him, openmouthed.

---------------------------------------------------​

​

Piett focused intently on the battle, watching each Rebel ship as it darted past the viewport. Oddly, he felt some warm breeze against his neck. He chalked it up to the horribly placed ventilation shafts, but it was unnerving.

“Intensify the forward batteries, I don’t want anything to get through!”

“Uh…sir…” Gherant looked at him, motioning behind him. “Behind you.”

Piett slowly turned his head, his eyes searching his periphery. Pale skin caught his eye and he turned on his heel. A woman stood there, her cerulean hair somehow flowing and shimmering in the stale bridge. Her eyes were wide, unblinking. Her mouth was turned into an unsettling smile.

“Who the…”

“Sir, she’s been staring at us for the past few minutes. She just …appeared.”

Piett turned back to Gherant, a bemused expression on his face.

“Appeared? People don’t just appear, Commander.”

“Like…schooom,” Gherant motioned as if he were wiping a window. Piett shook his head. Evidently he’d need to have a spice search completed on the ship.

“Look out!” Someone shouted.

They all turned to see an A-Wing hurtling towards the bridge.

Piett looked to the crew pits. “Intensify forward firepower!”

The woman reappeared in front of the viewport as he turned, staring out at it. As soon as she had completely reappeared, the A-Wing disappeared without a trace.

“Look, it’s happening again!” A crewman spouted. The rest of the crew pit looked on in awe.

They both looked in time to see her disappear, a circle spawning from her center before erasing every last molecule of her.

Gherant looked to Piett, one hand over his heart. “I think I’m going to marry her.”

“Commander, you are already married.”

“Not anymore.”

---------------------------------------------------​

Jar Jar, Qui-Gon, and Obi-Wan chattered as the bongo raced through the depths of Naboo’s waterways, through the Core. Obi-Wan watched the incredible undersea sights before asking Jar Jar a question.

“Why were you banished, Jar Jar?”

“Tis a long tale, buta small part wawdabe mesa...ooooh...aaaa.....clumsy.”

“You were banished for being clumsy?”

Suddenly a huge thud shook the craft. Qui-Gon looked beside himself, looking for the source of the noise. There she sat. Long, luscious locks of blue and violet eyes that could entrance a rancor. She wore Jedi robes and had two double bladed lightsabers attached to her belt.

“Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon started, suddenly feeling the urge to bow at her feet – despite being in a bongo. “I’m afraid I’ll have to let you go as my padawan.”

Obi-Wan moved his attention behind him, instantly noticing their new passenger.

“What? And who is that?”

“This woman must be my padawan.”

“She’s just…staring, master.”

The woman was staring, as if she had been paralyzed eyes-wide-open.

“I know. She’s the chosen one.”

Jar-Jar and Obi-Wan simply looked at each other, befuddled.

---------------------------------------------------​

​

Leia sat in the Falcon’s cockpit, her head against her hand. She gazed out into the cave. Her eyes were glazed over in boredom
.
Suddenly, something flew past the viewport. Leia rose from her chair to inspect it. The cave wasn’t well lit and she couldn’t see much. Finding whatever it was would be like finding a hypo in knotgrass. She sighed, hoping it was benign.

A crash sounded beside her. She glanced over instinctively and screamed. A woman was stuck to the outside of the viewport, her blue hair and wan face smushed against the glass. Yet still…Leia couldn’t help but think she was incredibly beautiful. Leia waved. But the woman continued to stare, her eyeballs pressed against the transparisteel.

Leia suddenly felt insecure and small in comparison, as if she was in the presence of a goddess.

Han ran in.

“Who is that?”

“I don’t know.”

“She’s beautiful.”

Leia looked at him, her eyebrows raised. “Oh is she?”

“Yes. She’s the most beautiful woman in the galaxy.”

“Go ahead and drool then, flyboy,” Leia snapped. He continued to stare, and she stood up in a huff before storming out of the cockpit.

 

Volshe! You make me laugh. But you never have to worry about an OC or this reviewer - being at a lack for words Great and funny scenes.

 

Thank you

 

Why oh why would Han ever call another woman beautiful? I don't understand. Leia's going to squash his ....

 

The power of the Mary Sue

 

I love Leia. Just love her.

 

I...I have no words. It's hard to express this intaglio of unbalanced light that flows through every single cell of my system.

MY LIFE HAS CHANGED. And I have Mary Sue to thank for that.

Can she also wash the Death Star windows from the vacuum of space? With her tongue?