Saga Emerging from Shadows (Replies and Interlude 7/26)

Note: Cushy wants to thank everyone for reading and the support and encouragement. However, I am considering strongly abandoning the story not because I want to. Not because of anything anyone has said. It's because my heart feels wrong and when Cushy feels like that she's miserable and can't write.

 

Hope you find the voice of the character eventually, again, because frankly this was marvelously unique ...

 

I hope you find your voice as well.

 

You can't give up DD. I had a similar issue and thankfully found a way to push on with my story. It will be much more rewarding if you keep trying. You can do it. We all have faith.

 

No! No, no, no! First of all, you can't do this to us readers and second, as Darth_Furio said, don't give up. Take a break, think it over, and the words will come. The words came for two chapters already. Okay, they went for a walk right now, but at some point they will come back, and when that happens you (and we) will be happier than you can imagine.

 

I actually love this. If I were you, I wouldn't worry about 'Finding the Voice', I think you already have. If you would like some help in developing this I would love to give you any encouragement that I can. I would say to you, just write, see what happens. You might be amazed.

 

General Note: Thank you to all those that have offered encouragement and help. I apologise for the misfires in communication. Cushy doesn't respond well to certain tacks, though I know those that employed them meant well.

I was able to chat with my English mate last night and we discussed at length what our individual focuses and intents for the world we co-created would be. We have given each other full blessing to do as we feel. That may mean you get a taste of Thimen, Toru, Mekonah and company via Rick in the future as well.

We aren't breaking up or anything like that, he's my best friend but I will serve him as consultant. Febrayisis is his Force tradition. I shan't use it here.

Cushy is currently amid research and striving to write the heart of Emerging from Shadows. It may well be weeks or months or more until Cognisance is up. You've put up with me so far, be patient and Cushy will strive to give you a memorable tale.

Thank you, Ny. I have my voice, I just need to write what my heart says which means I and Wilhuff are currently away form DS. *Hangs sign on door* Thanks for the ear.

Thank you, Misty.

Aww, thanks, Furio. That means a lot. I will keep pressing on for now.

Sorry, Chyn.


Oh, yes, I am the happiest Cushy possible when I am writing for my Sir. He's such a delight and an instructor. You are among my new friends here and I will strive to give you a tale worthy of all of you and my Boys.

Thank you. I am starting to hear bits of dialogue. I have some specific images as well. It isn't dead I just have to piece it together.

Thank you, Findswoman. I appreciate your words. One of Cushy's greatest fears is that I will sacrifice my Original Tribute for Sir by doing Shadows. I want to do both but dread that those that see them may feel they are too repetitive. Cushy has very singular wiring regarding focus and when I try to tackle two long projects adjacently they bleed together and I get demoralised.


Thank you all for the support.

 

Go for it DD.

 

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III: Cognisance

Sub-Lieutenant Keen Mynock, a female Alderaanian conscript within the Stormtrooper Corps, has an ill feeling. An imperceptible shiver skitters along her spine as the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end beneath her helmet.

Giving her fiancée and watch partner, Agile Wolf, a hand signal, Mynock indicates she desires to going scouting.

Nodding minutely, Wolf indicates permission but the stiffness of his posture as he holds his blaster-rifle at attention tells his intended to be quick about it.

Slinking out of the stuffy and uninteresting cargo bay, Keen Mynock muses: Finally, I can stretch my legs. Talk about a nothing assignment, babysitting supplies! Just hope I don't find trouble. Things have been plenty strange around here recently.

Shunning major causeways and corridors, Mynock still has to slink along walls and back passages to avoid detection by fellow Stormtrooper patrols combing all major access points. Not to mention the dour-faced Higher Ups that glare from their places in operation pits and on connective catwalks.

Mynock is startled by the smooth baritone of Commander Stavakor, a 1.81 metre tall grey and white-pelted Selonian, inquiring: 'Lost your way, Sub-Lieutenant? This station is massive.'

The otter-like being twitches an ear in mild curiosity as he gazes steadily at the young blond-haired Human woman, his hands lightly clasped behind his back.

Snapping to attention, Mynock salutes her superior. 'Just returning to my post, Sir.'

'Snap to it, then. I'd hate to report this to your watch commander.' The Selonian waves her on with his clawed hand. Shaking his head at the inexperience of the youth traipsing about one of the Emperor's greatest achievements.

Darting within a lift, Mynock taps her wristchrono in a 3-6-3 pattern to alert her man she's encountered a problem but will return promptly.

Departing the lift minutes later, Mynock witnesses a squad of Stormtroopers roughly shoving a group of assorted prisoners including a cyan-furred lupine humanoid Nelvaanian towards detention cells.

Mynock suppresses a groan of derision when she hears the young pup's shocked yelp when he's whipped for the offence of being afraid.
Hang in there, little guy. We're not all callous. Fashioner of Stars willing, you'll see.

Intuitive senses spiking with urgency, Keen Mynock's swift gait causes the deck plating to reverberate with her footfalls. Subconsciously, she abandons caution for expediency.

Darting within the Emperor's opulent suite, she gasps at the sight that greets her.

Hastily kneeling alongside Palpatine, Mynock unlatches and removes her helmet. Setting it on the floor, she then removes a hand guard before swiftly checking over the motionless deformed male. The venomous eyes are now a sightless putrid yellow and the folds of flesh of the Emperor's face and neck are unnaturally grey. When she presses an ear to his chest, she detects neither respiration or pulse.

Apprehension twisting her gut, Mynock's jaw clenches. Good riddance, you Snake!

Just then, a soft tenor breaks into her thoughts: 'Might I trouble you for a mite of assistance, my dear?'

Keen Mynock regards the speaker to note that Commodore Tarkin of the 17th Imperial Sooty Cheetahs, one of the most respected reconnaissance groups in the Empire, is struggling to gain his feet, gingerly rubbing his throat and chest.

'Of course, Commodore.' Mynock responds dutifully before bracing the shaken man.

'Thank you, Sub-Lieutenant. Had a bit of a disagreement with our Leader, you see.' Tarkin informs with remarkable ease.

'No offence, Sir, but I'd say it's more than that. The Emperor's dead.'

As Mynock is speaking, Tarkin gracefully kneels beside Palpatine, his acutely attuned hands running along the still and cool body, checking for various biological functions. Determining that the Sub-Lieutenant's assessment is sound, he states, 'A new age is upon us. May it be that civilisation unifies instead of crumbling into yet more petty feuding. To this end, I ask you to notify those that can be trusted of what's happened and tell them to convene in the main conference room. I shall gather Lord Vader and the Princess, myself. Go now.'
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Kaladron, Outer Rim Territories, Sanctuary of Resilience—Same Time

Unexpectedly being inundated by countless Force signatures, Shiveki Kolor'tharas' scarlet eyes snap wide open as he sits bolt upright within his cot, an audible gasp disturbing the silence as his blue, black, and white brindle facial fur stirs in agitation.

In the moments before the door to his sleep chamber hisses open to admit his Bothan mother and Chiss father, Shiveki is calmed fractionally by a signature that pulsates gently while radiating low and steady comfort.
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Toru Fireheart is mediating upon the roof of the Sanctuary of Resilience. The first hints of golden sun rays filter through the light grey clouds and caress his sandstone-shaded features. Suddenly a supernova erupts in the Force and the entire landscape of his senses irrevocably shifts.

Dry heaving as his system desperately seeks to re-assert it's equilibrium, Toru bares his fangs and extends his claws reflexively as he silently pleads to Great One Above. Remember Thy mercy, I plead! I have been faithfully on watch. Due to Thy graciousness, I and my Pupil's family know what this is. The Awakening. Yet, we shall be inconsequential if You snuff us out like thudbugs. Please, Great One!
The Kaladroni's wiry body is swept by a fresh wave of vertigo as his muscles continue to clench and spasm involuntarily. Even his spinal bone ridge aches. Two minutes hence, Toru wilts in relief as the fit dispels.

Taking a running start, Toru executes a flawless two rotation forward flip before landing cleanly upon his feet amid the pale blue grasses directly before the sanctuary's wide main entryway. Jogging between the gorgeously carved white marble columns, his royal blue cape snaps as he heads for Shiveki's quarters.
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Arriving, Toru hears Shiveki whimper plaintively: 'Obscure One needs our assistance or the galaxy will burn!'

The lad buries his muzzle in his mum's warmth as his breathing hitches. Thimen is perched beside his bondmate on the edge of their son's cot, his expression one of concerned incongruity as he rubs soothing patterns across Shiveki's back.

Stroking his silver and platinum goatee thoughtfully, Toru contemplates.

'The lad's right. The Force fairly screams that we are needed in the Alderaan system. The Awakening has began, Darlings. Do we dare meet it?'

Massaging Shiveki's shoulders, Thimen is relieved to hear his son purr softly in contentment as tension bleeds from the flesh beneath his fingers. Raising an eyebrow at his love, he nods encouraging Vomkor to speak.

The alabaster-furred Bothan's silk sleepclothes rustle as she shifts position. 'The galaxy isn't properly prepared, my friend. The path we will forge will be difficult. Even so, we serve Great One Above first and answer to Him and you alone. We must trust Him to guide us.'

Gracing his companions with a fond and approving look, Toru agrees: 'Indeed so. To Alderaan it is!'
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Alderaan System

While executing evasive manoeuvres as four groups of three TIEs perform strafing runs upon his forest green and enamel Delta-7E two person Aethersprite-class light interceptor, Toru hails the gargantuan spherical station before him: 'This is Peace Seeker, escort of Balance Keeper. I realise we're an unknown quantity but someone has a blazing Force signature aboard that monstrosity and has compelled us here. We are not interested in dog fighting nonsense! Either permit us to come aboard and attempt sense or kindly release us!'

Thimen directs hindering laser hits to each TIE's propulsion system with precision as Vomkor pilots Balance Keeper skilfully with periodic corkscrew manoeuvres so she can provide him with optimal chances of success while protecting Toru who is engaging the station in communication.

Following a lengthy pause, the Imperial voice is nonplussed as it orders: 'Vornskr Flight, stand down. Governor Tarkin's orders. I say again, stand down and return home. These beings are our guests.'

Obediently, the TIEs turn about and limp towards the waiting hangar bays.

'Berth in docking bay 67. You will be met forthwith.'

'Understood, Station.' Vomkor and Toru acknowledge concurrently as they begin their landing cycles.

 

Excellent details and action Your scene-shifts are well-executed, and add to the sense of urgency. Chuffed this is up and running!

 

Looks like things could take an upturn with Palpatine dead. I hope is dead and stays dead. But that opens a new can of worms since power hungry people and the Rebels could start a huge fight for power.

 

Very interesting. Looking forward to more.

 

Can't wait for more Cushy!

 

Thank you for reading and continuing support.


Interlude: First Ventures

Communiqué from Viceroy Bail Organa of Alderaan to Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi

I understand your weariness, my friend. Under Palpatine's regime the galaxy has suffered losses of life, resources, and spirit that some say are irreparable. I don't agree with them because though you spurned Dooku at Geonosis, he has willingly emerged publicly as the leader of the Remnant of the Confederation of Independent Systems. He has disavowed Palpatine and openly rejected his ex-Master's Sith lunacy.

I have seen a few of his broadcasts since he's come from the shadows and this man is a charismatic orator of unique skill. Very few beings even balk at the fact he no longer possesses hands. I cannot imagine what it would be like to be one of the most celebrated lightsabre duellists of the current age and then be maimed so you can't grasp anything ever again. I suspect strongly that the Tiger has found a Lady as well. A striking woman is seen with him nearly without fail whenever he decides to make his presence known now.

Dooku has shutdown thousands of droid foundries and weapons factories. He is actively seeking to halt all CIS armed conflicts and is negotiating reparations and restoration efforts. He is a staunch ally of Tarkin and he says that Tarkin has given orders that the dread Maw Installation be dismantled, it's research and instruments disposed of safely and never pursued again.

Tarkin and Dooku with their allies are dispatching feelers to all points of the galaxy. They are seeking to form an Imperial Galactic Coalition founded on cooperation, trust, safety, and sharing of resources including fair flat taxation. I have perused the rough draft—it is 770 pages and while incomplete, it is a competent groundwork.

They are even eager to re-instate the Galactic Senate. This is indeed most incredible. I wonder if I am dreaming, yet, I cannot help thinking that if the galactic citizens are sick of ash, bloodshed, and destruction; how must Fashioner of Stars and Lord of Might regard our collective foolishness?

Two curiosities within the Treatment Document are the outlawing of droid use and the production of clones. All deals with cloning societies are being rescinded. Forced slavery is going to be abolished and strongly monitored should pockets resist.

These rouge Force-Sensitives, Fireheart and Kolor'tharas are quite something. The Jedi Council regards them as heretics but I urge you to seek true guidance in how you proceed. As difficult as it is to realise and admit, Jedi are still fallible beings and subject to error as everyone in this existence is.

If we focus on commonality and harmony, putting aside pettiness, I believe with the Holy Ones' guidance we may yet see the dawn of true unity. Though some hard decisions and sacrifices will be required.

Oh, yes, though the 'Death Star' is still in our skies, its master is amid knocking heads together so it may be dismantled.

May this find you well.
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Death Star

Striding into docking bay 67, Tarkin's expression is sombre and mildly pleading. Leia has been yapping and screeching incessantly ever since he'd returned to the Skywalkers. He had hoped it would be otherwise but is unsurprised.
Discreetly raising a hand to his temple, Tarkin's thin lips compress as he massages the throbbing muscles.

Beholding his Obscure One, certain of his identity through the Force, Shiveki breaks from his place between his parents and fairly flies at Tarkin, his long-nailed hands splaying as he seeks to touch the contact points of the Eriaduan's stark face.

Uncertain, the shock troopers and Imperial officers flanking the Governor raise their weapons, expressions guarded.

Grasping the blasters through the Force as stray laser bolts bounce off walls and ceiling panels, Toru immobilises them effortlessly. 'Fear not. We mean no ill.'

Closing his eyes, Shiveki modulates his breathing as he carefully strokes Tarkin's brow, temples, and jawline, before grasping his head cautiously and massaging the hollow at the base of the Human's skull directing healing energies into the overwrought man's system urging it to relax and begin repairing itself.

Freed of the unrelenting margarine that has plagued him for hours, Tarkin sighs blissfully as his eyes grow lidded a few moments.

'Oh, thank you. It's so hard to think when one is miserable.'

Shiveki gazes at Tarkin with something akin to happiness then dashes to his place between his parents again.
'What a fine and compassionate cubling you have there, Sir, Madam.' Wilhuff praises with a slight smile as his men relax fractionally in spite of their growing bewilderment and awe at their Leader's demeanour and actions.

Motioning the gathered to follow, Tarkin says: 'This way, please. There is much to discuss and many long but worthy days ahead.'
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Following weeks of arguing, listening, devising, presentation, revision, and progress the First Accord between the Empire and the Rebels is ironed out and agreed to. It stands thus:

Rebels agree to:

Sole Alliance manufactured Star Destroyer with one wing of Y-Wing escorts acting as witness to the exchange. All pilots and personnel agree to take no aggressive actions against Imperial forces at this designated time.

The return of Imperial Star Destroyers: Accuser, Adjudicator, and Avarice along with any salvaged support, fighter, utility, and transport craft. Manifests included for identification.

All surviving officers and personnel of the aforementioned vessels are to be released so they may return to their families. Number: 57,817. Manifests included for identification.

Halt and cease all terror, insurgency, black market, and combat operations on the celestial bodies: Eriadu, Yavin 4, and Alderaan.

Imperials agree to:

One Imperial manufactured Victory-II Star Destroyer with one wing of TIE Advanced escorts acting as witness to the exchange. All pilots and personnel agree to take no aggressive actions against Rebel forces at this designated time.

The return of Nocturnal Guardian, a Rebel destroyer along with any salvaged support, fighter, utility, or transport craft. Manifests included for identification.

The release of 100,000 Wookiee slaves so they may return to Kashyyk or Alaris Prime.

Halt and cease all terror, insurgency, black market, and combat operations on the celestial bodies: Selonia, Yavin 4, and Alderaan.
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While her husband valiantly strives to reach some of the most insolent and stubborn beings this side of the Tingel Arm, Hannah dutifully returns to the modest Tarkin Homestead on Endor. It is nestled within a lushly forested meadow on the outskirts of the Crystal Cascades Settlement.

She watches over the Pack faithfully by night as she's well aware they are on the cusp of entering a vulnerable and dramatic life stage soon. Hannah tends the house, grounds, and gathers and prepares food. She reads leather-bound tomes on various topics. Hannah's main focus besides showering the Pack with affection, play, rest, and food is to finalise the pact of peace between transplants, Grass Trekkers, and Ewoks. This has been an arduous process. Lady Tarkin will be pleased to see it conclude.

How Hannah yearns to behold her man in person again. Daily, she beseeches Fashioner of Stars to bless and guide his earnest endeavours.

 

Hit parts of this where there are certainly AU qualities.

Hopeful things will go smoothly for everyone.

 

Looking good

 

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That was gripping and I loved the interlude section and the details of the Rebels/Imperial agreement/treaty.

 

I am so happy to see this story back on track! This is a fantastic AU, Cushy. Your characters have such distinctive voices, and the plot is simply riveting. Waiting for more now (no pressure )

 

Very astute, Misty.

Thanks.

Appreciated, Ny. This concept has been on my heart for years. It is nice to finally feel able to express it.

Awww, that means more than I can say, Chyn. I'm truly honoured you're enjoying it. Given that I live to write and can hear my heart again updates are likely to be common baring unforeseen issues.
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Interlude: Repercussions

Although some minute cosmetic changes like the return of captured technology and personnel and the extensive revision and expansion of the proposed Treatment Document have taken place, the peace seekers are encountering resistance from leery factions. Most notably, the Jedi, whom are very set in their narrow views.

It is a sad irony to Dooku, Commander Pellaeon, Toru, and Thimen—the envoy team dispatched to open dialogue with the Jedi Order—that it is the Masters' stubbornness that blinds them to the need for major reform regarding how sapients regard the Force. For, it is the manufactured 'Force War' that dawned many aeons past that is the causal root of the recurrent upheavals known through Galactic History. The chief motivator being: fear of difference. Which has led the Jedi to reject anything that contradicts the Council Masters' perceptions. The self-deceit and perpetuation to young Sensitives that emotions and attachments are 'evil' are creating imbalance. Many in the Order are so loyal to the dogma they've been fed, they persist in sowing condescension themselves while remaining unable to see these Truths.

Dooku, Thimen, and Toru are all relieved and grateful that Fashioner of Stars has granted them the discernment to reject this extreme philosophy regarding one of His greatest blessings to sapients.

Happily, in their visits to the Jedi temple, some young Knights and Senior Padawans have grown intrigued by the messengers' words urging that balance is possible via unification, faith in Fashioner of Stars' purpose, trust in His direction, and that motivation and self-control are the real keys to inner balance and fostering harmony.
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Jedi Temple, Coruscant

'Respectfully, you may label me however you wish, Masters. I shan't be swayed from my course.' Toru informs them with conviction.

Glowering at the tall Kaladroni, Yoda snaps: 'Defiant are you! Trouble follows your steps. Banish you from this sacred place, I can!'

Toru simply gazes at the diminutive Unknown Master with sad resignation, saying nothing.

Gilad mutters: 'It's useless, Old Chap. They won't come around until it's their time. Let us return to Nuzzler and the others.'

Striding forward from his place behind the others, Dooku declares boldly: 'Mark this, wary ones. The Creator has witnessed all and shall hold each one to account. I shall join these and our other allies in praying that wisdom is restored unto you. We earnestly seek mending, not more fracture. It is you that cause it. May the Spirits walk with you soon.'

Turing on their heels, the party strides out of the audience chamber into the main hall of the temple.

To their collective astonishment, a group of fifty young beings approach them led by a Kel Dor male.

Due to his breathing apparatus, his voice sounds slightly filtered: 'Well met. We have heard tell of your teachings and desire to learn more. Direct us, we shall obey.' The spokesman salutes the elders respectfully and his fellows follow suit before regarding them expectantly anew.

Thimen casts an appraising gaze over the gathered cublings. He senses their eagerness, excitement, and a spark of thirst. Inspired to present them with a test, he withdraws his lightsabre and with a snap-hiss it's blood-shaded energy blade shimmers brilliantly before them.

The youngest gasp and recoil in horror at the sight. A few of the Padawans move to reassure the frightened younglings while others take a defensive posture and regard the Chiss carefully. The Kel Dor leader gazes at Thimen's blade calmly.

'What has Fashioner of Stars put in your heart to seek from us, Venerable Chiss? You do not radiate malice as some do. Indeed, when you ignited your blade I perceived profound sorrow and shame.'

Thimen answers in Galactic Basic: 'If you genuinely seek the Path of Truth and Balance, join me in divesting yourselves of these useless weapons. The Jedi are wrong to promote one's lightsabre is inextricably tied to an individual's life or identity. I began Sith, I am currently seeking to forsake sapient dogmas and striving to permit Fashioner of Stars to guide me. He asks of you a grave choice: trust Him and leave all you know or remain in obscurity.
'If you join us, He will require much courage and fortitude from each of you. For the galaxy calls folly wisdom and wisdom folly. Fashioner of Stars and His Son, Lord of Might, are Beings of love and boundless mercies. Yet, They do war. The vital thing nearly all have forsaken or simply do not see is that only They determine when it is just to battle. The right is not ours.

'Conversion is a call to arms. However, it is spiritual, not physical. It is the call to constantly guard against one's own worst impulses and never abandon hope or faith. Even when we fall. It is a difficult life. Full of trails, tests, and suffering. Yet, it is immeasurably rich. Fashioner of Stars is kind, protective, vigilant, forgiving, and tender.

'Though some of the great Mentors and Prophets have chosen to be celibate and solely devoted to the Spirits; It is not a requirement for all as the Jedi falsely teach. Marriage and offspring are blessings of the Holy Ones.

'Being so informed, do you still desire to follow Fashioner of Stars and we, His servants?'

Without hesitation, all fifty individuals withdraw their lightsabres and ignite them saluting Thimen and his companions in assent.

Nodding, Toru breaks into a fluid trot as he instructs: 'Right. To the Balance Keeper, we haven't much time!'
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The Jedi Council Masters are struck immobile and mute as the entirety of Anooba Clan departs with the heretics.
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The Gravel Kit reluctantly accompanies Admiral Firmus Piett and Commander Tian Jerjerrod to the Rebellion's base on Yavin 4.
Communiqué from Admiral Firmus Piett, Imperial Navy to Governor Tarkin, Seswenna Sector
Sir:

The leadership of the Rebellion zealously exhibits the trait for which they are named. Seemingly they love nothing more than to be self-righteous and deflect all responsibility from themselves and upon the Empire. How is it that even with the Sand Cobra dead, they remain so defiant and lost?

I plead pardon, Governor. I grow tired of endless posturing and pointless character assassination. As per your orders, Tian and I do not retort their ludicrous claims.

General Garm Bel Iblis seems to be cautiously warming to our proposals. However, a Mon Calamari, Gial Ackbar, is adamant that before the Rebels will even consider action of any sort beyond the initial pittance granted recently that all operations and Imperial presence must desist on Dac including ceding all claimed lands and releasing all Mon Calamari and Quarren salves.

They demand much while ceding precious little. How can they claim to be just when it is Rebel saboteurs that openly defy the First Accord? I have included the latest causality reports from various systems and sectors. Though anger is kindled, the majority of Imperial citizenry are growing more committed to the course you continue to refine.

We and our new allies are of the correct cause. I believe this firmly but I long for the bloodshed and destruction to end for good.

Latest Reformation Stats:

3 billion more droid foundries have gone off-line.
1 billion more munitions factories are off-line.

200,000 new hospitals, rehabilitation centres, and infirmaries have been erected and staffed with sapient staff and appropriate supplies.

50,000 forced labour camps have closed, the inmates treated and released with minimal life-sustaining supplies.

12 billion reclamation and refinement centres erected and operating optimally throughout Imperial Territories carrying out the melting down and redistribution of raw materials found in turned in and seized technologies. Which include all automated droid-related vessels, crafts, and vehicles.

28,000 additional Force-Sensitives have relocated to Kaladron.

20 million new purification plants erected throughout the Empire in efforts to cleanse groundwater, soil, and oxygen.

 

Very interesting AU twists here -- a still-intact Jedi Temple facing a challenge that -- in contrast to the Sith and others -- does not want to be an enemy, Tarkin's wide-ranging plans, the new OC's such as Keen Mynock and Hannah's young Pack on Endor. Looks like plenty of room for adventure.

 

You can hear the frustration in the message from Piett. Enjoyed the Temple tour.

~!

It seems a common thing that whenever two sides claim to want peace, one side always puts roadblocks by being over-righteous and insisting on all-or-nothing. Peace is often won by compromising on a few points in order to achieve the more important goal.