Before - Legends Where Few Tread (KOTOR Drabbles) Week 9 - Kreia, 3/26

Both Weeks 2 and 3 were excellent! I particularly liked "Yavin IV", "On The Fly", and "Under The Gun".

 

"Careful," the girl teased, "or you'll end up as stuffy as Master Bastila."

Yup, that's right, hehe!

Good job!

 

Week 4 - Mission Vao


16, bantha

Mission placed the greasy object in his hands. "Will you read me my book?"

"Eww." Griff held it up with two fingers. It was coverless and warped, water stains blurring together the colorful illustrations. "How many times I gotta tell you to stay out of dumpsters, Mish?"

"But I always find cool stuff." Without invitation, she plopped herself onto his lap. "Please, Griff?"

"Okay, fine," he grumbled, giving back the book. "But you have to turn the pages." He squinted, feeling a bit guilty that he couldn't buy her a book that was actually readable. "The...Little...Lost Bantha Cub..."

17, dewback

"Can't we just find the Star Map already and get off this silly planet?" Mission wiped a sleeve across her face.

Carth tromped along, unfazed by the sweat marks spreading on his jacket. "We'll get there a lot faster if you don't whine. Look--" He pointed to a group of large reptiles in the distance. "The dewbacks aren't complaining, and look how fast they're going."

"They live here; they're used to it."

"Maybe you should live here too. Might help you grow up a little."

She slapped his arm. "So I can be old and weird like you? No thanks."

18, eopie

"Gotcha!" Mission cried, but slippery pajama fabric allowed the kid to slip out of her arms. "Aww, come on! You have to go to bed."

"I'm not tired," the little girl said, running around the room to stay out of reach.

Mission blocked the door so she couldn't escape. "Your mom said nine o'clock."

"Not tired."

"You're more stubborn than an eopie, you know that? Go to bed, or I'll tell Revan."

She giggled. "Still not tired."

Mission sighed. Next time Canderous gets to be the babysitter. She grinned. "Go to bed, or Canderous will come tickle you."

"Goodnight, Mission."

19, tauntaun

"Nice moves." Mission handed Dustil a towel as he joined her on the bench. Her brow furrowed as she watched him dry the sweat from his face. "So..." she said, "it looks like you're getting better at this whole Jedi thing."

Dustil frowned, not speaking until his sparring partner had left. "I'm not quite a Jedi yet, Mission." He leaned over to kiss her, but she pulled away.

"Ew!"

His face reddened. "Sorry, I just - I thought there was something between us."

"Oh, there is," Mission said quickly. "Just don't try to kiss me when you smell like a tauntaun."

20, wampa

Mission stormed into the meditation chamber. "Did you tell Dustil to break up with me?"

Bastila sighed and opened her eyes. "Mission, there are standards a Jedi must uphold--"

"I don't care about your stupid standards; it was none of your business."

"As your friend I sympathize with your feelings, but--"

"Friend? I'd rather be friends with a wampa."

Bastila turned away, looking like she'd been slapped in the face. Maybe that would take the edge off Miss Grandmaster's attitude, Mission thought, her lekku twitching angrily.

Slamming the door behind her, she hurried to escape before she could feel guilty.

 

I like them. Good job.

 

19, tauntaun


"Nice moves." Mission handed Dustil a towel as he joined her on the bench. Her brow furrowed as she watched him dry the sweat from his face. "So..." she said, "it looks like you're getting better at this whole Jedi thing."

Dustil frowned, not speaking until his sparring partner had left. "I'm not quite a Jedi yet, Mission." He leaned over to kiss her, but she pulled away.

"Ew!"

His face reddened. "Sorry, I just - I thought there was something between us."

"Oh, there is," Mission said quickly. "Just don't try to kiss me when you smell like a tauntaun."

Another great set, but that was my favorite.

 

"Just don't try to kiss me when you smell like a tauntaun."



I have to remember that one!

 

Haha, good use of in-Universe smelly animals.

 

Good updates! Especially last one. I like Mission.

 

Yay, another Dustil/Mission fan! If I asked nicely, would you write more of them?

Loved this set. And I do hope Bastila doesn't ruin things for them permanently. Neither of them is going to take this one lying down, right?

Great drabbles! Can't wait to see the next set.

 

Thanks to everyone who read/commented.



Week 5 - Ares


21, wood

Ares sat cross-legged inside the tent, his knees bouncing in excitement as he waited for his first lesson.

His grandmother sat down on the grass in front of him, and handed him a bowl. It was recently carved; the raw wood rough against his palms. "Today," she said, "you will smooth the bowl."

Ares grinned. "With magic?"

"No." She reached into the pouch hanging from her belt and pulled out a sanding stone. "Your hands were given you for a reason, Ares. Magic is an extension of your natural abilities, not a replacement."

Ares sighed dramatically and took the stone.

22, metal

Ares knelt next to the body, frowning thoughtfully. The man's yellow hair was stringy about a cloudy gray face frozen in pained sadness. His earth-toned robes didn't seem unusual, but on second glance Ares noticed a strange object hanging from his belt.

He removed the object and studied it closer. It was round and narrow, made from a cold, hard material. His thumb brushed a knob, and Ares jumped back as a beam of green light burst from the object. A Magician's sword!

He was struck by an inexplicable sense of loss. "May you find rest, friend," he said softly.

23, cloth

"In some cultures this would be considered bad luck," Delia murmured as he helped her into the many layers of cloth that engulfed her small frame. She turned to look at him, her face pale against the deep green of her robes.

Ares brushed a thin braid from her shoulder. "You are a part of my culture now."

"Am I?" She shook her head. "Your people don't even like me, why should they accept me as one of their own?"

"Hmm..." He pulled her close. "Perhaps because you are marrying their chief?"

She laughed lightly. "Further proof of my wiles."

24, glass

Ares stared in awe at the painting. The stars shone as brightly as if he were standing outside; the grass drawn so perfectly he was almost convinced he had seen it swaying in the wind.

The painting was cold and smooth to the touch, not a trace of brush strokes. "My people would surely see your magic differently if you were to show them such brilliant art."

"That's not art," Delia laughed. To his astonishment, she pushed the painting up into itself. The landscape remained in its place, and Ares felt a breeze on his face. "It's called a window."

25, stone

He burst into their tent, where Delia sat surrounded by rocks, her eyes squeezed shut. "Are you all right? They told me--"

"Hush. I'm fine."

He went to her side. "You should rest."

"Don't distract me." She held her hands out in front of her, and another stone began to form between them. "If I don't focus my power I could hurt the baby."

Ares pressed a hand to her growing belly. "No, you won't."

"You don't know--"

"I have seen her. She will be safe."

The rock fell to the ground and she leaned against him, sobbing in relief.

 

Another lovely set of drabbles. This was my favorite:

22, metal


Ares knelt next to the body, frowning thoughtfully. The man's yellow hair was stringy about a cloudy gray face frozen in pained sadness. His earth-toned robes didn't seem unusual, but on second glance Ares noticed a strange object hanging from his belt.

He removed the object and studied it closer. It was round and narrow, made from a cold, hard material. His thumb brushed a knob, and Ares jumped back as a beam of green light burst from the object. A Magician's sword!

He was struck by an inexplicable sense of loss. "May you find rest, friend," he said softly.

 

Very fantasy-ish update. I approove. Nice work!

 

Lovely update, especially Glass.

And I agree that world needs more Dustil/Mission!

 

Week 5 is very well written. Especially Metal.

 

Great drabbles! I liked the fantasy-ish theme of this update.

Could you maybe send me a PM next time you update?

Oh and the world does need more Dustil/Mission.

 

All five weeks of these drabbles were really great. I hope you continue writing more!

 

VaderLVR64: Thanks! I'm glad you enjoyed them.

Ulic_Starwalker: Thanks--it was fun to write a Star Wars race that was nature-based rather than technology-based.

Darth-Spider-Queen: Thank you! You're right, we do need more Dustil/Mission.

KotOR_girl: Thank you! I really enjoyed writing that set.

KotORBF2Female_Revan: Thanks for reading! You've been added to the list.

SoA: Thank you very much. I do plan to keep writing these.

---

[b][i]Week 6 - Darth Sion[/i]


26, arm[/b]

[blockquote]He sat on cold stone, apprehension creeping unbidden through his body. His target was a drunk, a bad pilot, and a lousy excuse for an assassin. Beyond his role as bait for the Exile, he was completely useless.

And yet, she seemed more than willing to weaken herself on his account; to take him as a lover as he lay in wait to strike her down with the very teachings she poured into his mind.

He sensed Atton Rand's presence, and the gears in his hand creaked as he activated his lightsaber. There was only one punishment for such foolishness.[/blockquote]

[b]27, leg[/b]

[blockquote]This was a most inconvenient time to have a revelation, he thought as he slowed his pace. Common sense told him to jump into the nearest supply closet, but the Force was saying something else.

Even as they caught up, shot him in the leg, and dragged him back to their commanding officer, he listened to the whispered [i]Hiding isn't necessary anymore.[/i]

They knew exactly who he was, and where he was headed, but he kept listening.

It was worth getting shot to see the look on the officer's face when the Force told him to run out the door.[/blockquote]

[b]28, antennae[/b]

[blockquote]Even after the destroyed fighter had faded away to tiny pieces of space debris, he stared straight ahead, eyes unblinking. Slowly he became aware of static yelling coming through his radio.

"--respond! What in the name of the Force just happ--"

He ripped the device off his head, which his shaking hands dropped into his lap. "Accident," he croaked to no one. It made little difference to the dead pilot.

His own fighter shook as the enemy took advantage of the idle target. So, the Force [i]was[/i] willing to avenge its Jedi, he thought blankly just before he blacked out.[/blockquote]

[b]29, claw[/b]

[blockquote]Sion paused before the cell, a sliver of uncertainty scratching at his mind. Perhaps it was not too late to change his plan, to make her listen to reason. The door slid open and he dragged her to her feet.

Trembling fingers grasped at his arms. "How could you do this to me, Sion?"

"If you have not learned your own lesson, [i]Traya[/i]," he snarled, "then you are more of a fool than I." He shoved her into the hallway, uncertainty disappearing. He would find the Exile, alone, and become stronger than his master.

As it should always have been.[/blockquote]

[b]30, tail[/b]

[blockquote]He told himself he followed her because she was a Jedi, and following Jedi is what he'd always done.

But there was something else, something decidedly un-Jedi about her, that drove him. The way she would drop everything and use up valuable time and effort to help a stranger. He had never met anyone so determined to "make the galaxy a better place," as Kreia mockingly referred to it.

When they finally confronted each other, as she tried to catch her breath, skin marred with bruises, he suddenly hated himself.

How could someone so ugly justify destroying something so beautiful?[/blockquote]

 

This was definitely my favorite of the drabbles. I really loved the line "How could someone so ugly justify destroying something so beautiful?"

Great drabbles.

 

Wow, amazing set, especially "Tail". Great job!

 

They were all wonderful, but my favorite was the last one.

30, tail


He told himself he followed her because she was a Jedi, and following Jedi is what he'd always done.

But there was something else, something decidedly un-Jedi about her, that drove him. The way she would drop everything and use up valuable time and effort to help a stranger. He had never met anyone so determined to "make the galaxy a better place," as Kreia mockingly referred to it.

When they finally confronted each other, as she tried to catch her breath, skin marred with bruises, he suddenly hated himself.

How could someone so ugly justify destroying something so beautiful?

That last line was amazing!

 

Thanks to everyone for the lovely comments.


(err, I kinda cheated with these, as 33 and 34 are backwards, because it wasn't until after I'd written them I realized they were out of order chronologically. Please don't throw tomatoes at me. )


Week 7 - Hal and Jaq(Atton)


31, door

Gena peeked around the door frame to see Hal holding the baby delicately in his bulky arms. "Your screams are enough to wake the dead, kid," Hal grumbled.

Jaq responded by crying louder. Gena was stopped from rescuing father and son from each other when she heard the notes of a lullaby. Hal's voice was booming and off-key, and he skipped half the words, but it was undoubtedly the song she sang every night to put Jaq to sleep.

"You like that, huh?" Hal grinned at the cooing baby. "If you ever tell your mum I was singing, you're grounded."

32, window

Every doctor he saw passing in and out of the door made his stomach twist further. He leaned against his mother. "Is Dad gonna die?"

"Oh, sweetheart, of course not." She pulled him close and kissed the top of his head. "He'll get better."

"Then why can't I see him?"

"Well..." She took his hand and led him to the door, lifting him so he could see his father through the window; laying very still, his face white. Jaq felt like throwing up.

Hal turned suddenly, looking in Jaq's direction. His hand raised, fingers wiggling. Jaq grinned and waved back.

34, walls

Jaq sat on the lid of the fresher, wincing as rough hands bandaged up his arm.

"You look like one big bruise, kid," Hal said. "Why don't you ever fight back?"

"Dad," Jaq whined, "those jerks are like five times bigger than me."

"Well, don't come crying to me when you get beat up 'cause you can't stand up for yourself."

"I never cry, Dad. And I can too stand up for myself." Jaq pointed to a spider skittering up the wall. "Those creeps are gonna have a present in their lockers tomorrow."

Hal ruffled Jaq's hair. "That's my boy."

33, roof

Hal paused in his hammering when he saw the kid shuffling down the path. "Hey, Jaq," he called down, "come help your old man fix this roof."

Jaq didn't look up. "Homework, Dad."

Always an excuse. "It's supposed to rain tonight."

"I'll sleep in a jacket," Jaq said, starting for the door.

Hal clamped his teeth down on his tongue to keep a string of nasty words from escaping his mouth. "Your mother says we should spend more time together," he said after a moment, his voice strained.

Jaq let his backpack drop to the ground. "Fine," he muttered. "Whatever."

35, floor

He slid to the floor, the thin carpet failing to protect his backside from the cement underneath. Jaq groaned, leaning his head against the bed-frame.

He stared down at his hands, which clutched his lightsaber and the half-empty bottle of booze. "It's not my fault he's dead," he told himself. "Idiot was drunk and attacked me. Always wanted me to defend myself." He laughed harshly.

Pain shot through his face. His right eye was probably blind, or would be by the time he was sober enough to drag himself to a hospital. Jaq raised the bottle. "Here's to you, Dad."

 

It was too difficult to pick a favorite. So I'll just say that I loved them all (and I did).

 

VaderLVR64: Thanks so much! I'm glad you liked them.


Week 8 - Jedi Council


36, chancellor

Vrook watched as the blood pooled out, staining the pavement. His master, unnaturally calm, returned his lightsaber to his belt. "That should get their attention."

Vrook tried to swallow over the lump in his throat. "You didn't have to kill her."

"Talking to them just isn't going to cut it anymore, kid."

"W-what about the Council?"

"Can't talk to them either," he said, an odd smile spreading across his face.

Knots formed in Vrook's stomach. Up until now he had trusted his master's convictions, but now he couldn't stop thinking back to the Council's seemingly paranoid warning.

Anyone can fall.

37, queen

"It's not fair," Atris moaned, plopping down on her bed.

Vash looked up from her datapad. "Oh?"

"Why did you tell Master Vrook I'm not ready for my trials?"

"Because you are not ready."

"But Brienna is almost thirteen!"

"Padawan," Vash sighed, crossing the room to sit beside her, "it wouldn't be fair to either of you if you rushed your training to become her master."

Atris drew her knees to her chest. "Nobody knows her better than I do."

Wrapping an arm around her shoulder, Vash said softly, "Before you can become anyone's master, you have to know yourself."

38, senator

"Hey, Zez."

Zez-Kai Ell looked up from the pot he was scrubbing. "You here to lecture me too?"

Vrook shrugged apologetically. "Your master thought you might listen better to me."

"I do listen. I was just so sick of their stupid jokes."

"You don't have to explain it to me - I say they got what they deserved."

"But I broke the rules," Zez moaned.

"You know," Vrook said thoughtfully, "those guys are pretty scared of you now."

"So?"

"So, you broke one rule, but you created a new one."

"What's that?"

Vrook grinned. "'Never make fun of Zez-Kai Ell.'"

39, aide

Vash smiled sympathetically. "Why so down?"

Jast sighed. "Master Vandar thinks the Knight coming from Coruscant might train me, but I don't think she will."

"Why ever not?"

"I'm nothing special; I'm not very smart, and I'm pretty clumsy with a lightsaber."

Vash laughed in surprise. "Are you kidding? You're one of the most talented and unique people I know."

"The only thing I'm good at is cooking."

"Even Jedi have to eat. You're also funny, and a good friend."

He blushed. "How come you always know how to make people feel better?"

"Do I? I just tell the truth."

40, guard

"How was that? Was my form good? I'm getting better at this, right?"

"Praise will come when earned, Kavar. Do not fish for it."

Kavar swung his deactivated saber dramatically. "But how's my footing?"

Vrook sighed. "Your footing is fine."

"Just fine?"

"Padawan, put your weapon away and come sit down."

Kavar sat beside his master, and started to twirl his braid around twitchy fingers.

"Part of being a Jedi is learning patience," Vrook said. "If you are patient, and work hard, you will most certainly 'get better'."

Kavar giggled. Vrook could be so silly sometimes. "Patience never impresses girls."

 

40, guard



"How was that? Was my form good? I'm getting better at this, right?"

"Praise will come when earned, Kavar. Do not fish for it."

Kavar swung his deactivated saber dramatically. "But how's my footing?"

Vrook sighed. "Your footing is fine."

"Just fine?"

"Padawan, put your weapon away and come sit down."

Kavar sat beside his master, and started to twirl his braid around twitchy fingers.

"Part of being a Jedi is learning patience," Vrook said. "If you are patient, and work hard, you will most certainly 'get better'."

Kavar giggled. Vrook could be so silly sometimes. "Patience never impresses girls."


Loved it!

 

Hmm, it was nice to take a break from LOST to write Star Wars (and by break, I mean in between Lost fic I wrote some Kotor drabbles ).

VaderLVR64: Thank you!


Week 9 - Kreia (Arren Kae)


41, purple

Arren stared at the piece of nature that had invaded her desk, soft and violet and lovely. Jolee had quite a talent for finding a woman the perfect flower. If she saw him later, she would give him a piece of her mind, order him to stop this nonsense.

Not so long ago she would have blushed and giggled over such attention. Arren picked up the flower and allowed herself a tiny sigh of regret (she was too young to feel the weight of centuries pressing on her shoulders).

She slipped it into her hair and returned to her work.

42, orange

"Yellow does not suit you," Kreia said. She hovered at Atton's side as he tested his new lightsaber, nose wrinkling as if she were studying an insect.

"I thought you were blind."

She chuckled. "I do not need eyes to see how she perceives you."

"Doesn't suit you either," he challenged. If colors were as symbolic as the Exile claimed, they both knew she was the deepest shade of red (with Atton a close second).

"Perhaps," she mused, fingering the sunny fabric of her tunic, stained from battle, "people like you and I will never be anything more than orange."

43, green

"Still you are so certain the Jedi are perfect examples of light." Kreia's voice spilled out crankier than intended. He'd struck a nerve she thought had numbed long ago, the one that reminded her she'd fought with and against green flames, the very image of goodness.

"You misunderstand my meaning," the Disciple said. His hands were gentle as he bandaged her wound. "I simply believe one need not be perfect to be a good person."

"Perhaps I was mistaken then," Kreia muttered, "and there is still hope for you."

"Exactly," he said brightly.

And she thought, You misunderstand my meaning.

44, silver

"I wish you could see her," Yusanis said, his arms wrapped cozily about her.

Arren swallowed over the lump in her throat. It was one more thing she could never tell him, that she had seen her, knew more about their silver-haired daughter than Yusanis ever would. If he knew what the future held for Brianna...

"No," she said, her voice cracking. "That would be most unwise."

She felt him tense. "You are no longer a Jedi. Who cares what--"

"Stop," Arren pleaded. "Let her believe whatever pleasant lies you've told her about me."

I'll pretend the same about her.

45, copper

The instant she admitted her admiration for her former apprentice, Kreia knew she had made a mistake. Everywhere she went, HK-47 would follow, relating Revan's adventures in minute detail.

After losing count of how many time she'd heard the phrase "Oh, Master's Master, it was a glorious battle, and you should have been there," Kreia sought out the astromech.

"Can you fly this ship?" she asked.

T3 beeped a curious affirmative, and she grabbed a hydrospanner. Once she found the Exile, the rusty assassin was bound to be put back together, but for now she would enjoy some blessed silence.