Beyond - Legends The Order of Drabble - UDC VII - OCs, old favorites, and more.

Author Note: Drabbles and one shots have always been my bag so when I get overwhelmed by a lot of dangling participles (unworkable ideas), I figure it’s time to get back to basics. This thread will be Beyon-Legends as it is my wheelhouse, but don’t be surprised if some Saga creeps in. I was absent from the boards during the time of UDC VII. I am now going to officially attempt to complete it. So, without further ado…

UDC 7

Week 1

Baby

Six year old Lens Eli shadowed Master Tionne as she moved through the nursery of the Crèche. There were two infants in the nursery at the moment; one was Jensen Swardo and the other Pyl Nersh. Both were human babies and, as Lens was learning, both were pains in the hind quarters. Jensen was constantly screaming while Pyl would make this incessant whining noise which came in short bursts.

Tionne stopped at Pyl’s crib, reaching in to touch his chest softly. His whining faded.

“Lens, would you like rock Pyl for a while?” she asked.

“Not really,” he said, firmly.


Child

Tionne smirked at his unabashed nature and handed him the infant. He made a fuss of taking the child, but she knew some time in the rocker would do just as much good for him as it would for Pyl. She watched as Lens turned and made his way to ‘The Sea’, a pale blue oceanic themed area designated for rocking. After he settled into the chair, she noticed Lens talking to the baby. Drawing nearer, she listened as he assured the youngling that everything was okay, that the rocking would not result in the drowning of the entire crew.


Teenager

“Come on, Master, you know I hate babies!” Lens stated in no uncertain terms.

“Lower your voice, apprentice,” Zekk replied, sharply. “Whether you want to watch the children is not my concern. You will do it because I asked you to. I know you are not so self-involved as to miss the fact that these children are refugees and you are a messenger of hope and freedom.”

Duely chastened, Lens came to attention. “Of course, Master. Where would you like me to create a make shift crèche?”

“The covered fruit and vegetable market across the quadrant would be perfect, Lens.”


Adult

Cypress Eli ran into her father’s office and nearly knocked him out of his chair with the force of the hug she laid on him. Once he had a chance to extract the eleven year old whirlwind, he asked:

“What is this? I haven’t seen this much excitement since you won the science exhibition last year.”

“It’s Ghent, Daddy! He says he’ll take me as an apprentice for a probationary period to see if my skills have appropriate potential. Iimpressedhimandnowhewantstoknowmore. CanIgowithhimpleasepleaseplease?”

She was speaking so fast he could barely follow.

“Zakarisz Ghent? Where did you dig up that old fossil?”


Elderly

Lens Eli sat in a rocking chair holding a beautiful baby girl. His years as Creche Master were long over and he as thankful for it. The infant was his great granddaughter, Sophi. She was a peaceful baby unlike so many he had cared for over the years. He laughed at that and coughed a bit with the activity. Closing his eyes to match those of the child, he continued to rock.

“We’re okay,” he whispered. “It’s a rocky sea, but we are safe. There is nothing to worry about…other than the giant monster eyeing us as his evening snack.”

 

A wonderful progression of Lens reluctantly, very reluctantly, taking care of the pesky crechelings to (awwww!) rocking his own great-grandling. Love the appearance of Cypress. And GHENT gets a mention!

 

@WarmNyota_SweetAyesha: You're the best, Nyota! Thanks for being such a support and presence on the boards. I think Lens protests too much in a lot of areas of his life. Yes, you may see more of Cypress down the line. She's Lens' little slicer. More to come on that. Ghent!

Week 2
There be a couple of REBELS here.

Healthy

When Zekk came to appraise his apprentice’s work, he was surprised to find five cobbled together cribs, with soft blanket liners and infants wiggling arms and legs in relative glee. Lens had also appropriated two standing fans to cool the children.

“Excellent work, Lens,” he commended. “Even if you don’t like babies, you seem to be a natural with them.”

“You can thank Master Tionne for that,” the boy replied. “Hours and hours of rocking the little wildebeests.”

Zekk stroked his bare chin in thought. “I don’t recall such stringent requirements of crèche initiates.”

“They were requirements for me, Master.”

Injured

“I don’t know why you’re limping, Lens,” Ben Skywalker said, incredulously. “Master Cilghal mended your broken ankle.”

“Sympathy, my man!” Lens replied with gusto. “The females love to faun over the injured.”

“But, you are not injured, Lens. I don’t think Master Solusar would think kindly of your fraudulent behavior.”

“You’re being a bummer, Ben,” Lens said, disappointedly. “And using the wrong ideas. Stop it.”

Ben shook his head. “So, you’re not being fraudulent?”

“Sure, but it’s not like you to threaten me.”

“Get off it, Lens,” Ben retorted.

“That’s what the healer said, but I didn’t listen.”

“You’re hopeless.”

Sick

Ezra Bridger lay in his bunk, under covers, flushed pink and moaning that his stomach hurt and his arms and legs ached and that his eyes were blinded by the brightness of the light.

Given then the rest of the team, sans Chopper, were away on a mission, she had tried to comfort him. Her attempts were rebuffed, or, at the very least, not well received. At her wit’s end, the Twi’lek captain sent her temperamental droid into boy’s quarters with a manual thermometer.

The droid returned minutes later chattering voraciously with a bent mandible and a proper temperature reading.

Stressed

Thought his face showed only sneering defiance, Agent Kallus could not deny the underlying dread in the wake of discovery and capture. He knew himself and he would hold out as long as he could. But, he had firsthand experience implementing Imperial interrogations. They would break him eventually and it would be painful. Perhaps, he could buy some time leading Thrawn on a mynock chase. But what would he be buying time for? A miracle? The Lasat and his motley crew to sweep in a save the day? Stranger things had happened in this war. He hoped it would continue.

Frustrated

As Kanan exited the ‘fresher, he felt, in the Force, and on his chest the hands of his Twi’Lek lover pressing him backward. She closed the door behind them and pressed herself more firmly against him, his back pressing into the counter housing the sink. He grimaced in pain as her lips met his. Her hands were on his hair tie, loosening it and running her fingers through it. She didn’t speak, but let her actions do the talking. Just as he gained his bearings enough to respond in kind, she extracted herself, regarded him seductively, and exited the room.

 

"Healthy" - nice talk with Zekk and "Injured" - great pal banter.

"Sick" Poor Ezra "Stressed" -- intriguing reflections from Kallus.

"Frustrated" SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE and I'll bet Kanan's frustrated! And going huh?

 

@WarmNyota_SweetAyesha and @Mira_Jade: thank you both for following me on this drabblicious journey. You may see more down the line. It seems to be a ship that giving me the itch.
A/N: Time jumps around a bit here, but I hope you enjoy!

Week 3

Attraction

Saying that there was more to Kanan Jarrus than met the eye was like saying there was more to The Ghost than its factory specifications. It was obvious. There was no escaping his penetrating brown eyes or the hint of sophistication in the way he wore his beard. So short. He could pretend to be rough and edgy, but his bearing told a different story. His articulation has a soft spoken reserve which belies more than a life of hardship. Like her ship, Hera could see that Kanan’s personal upgrades were in the form of disguises. This intrigued her greatly.

Love

Ezra Bridger never imagined that his Padawan fascination with his teammate, Sabine, would amount to more than a maze of hay bales on the Lothal prairie. And, for a long time, it didn’t. He was too young. She was too preoccupied. There was a war which complicate her already complex family dynamic. Love was something that would happen later, if ever. But, this did not keep him from pining for a woman always close, yet so far away. As he lounged in the Kanan’s co-pilot chair, he wished that Sabine would look at him the way Hera looked his Master.

Commitment

“Did you volunteer for this mission just so you could see me half naked again?” Sabine asked, from the pilot’s seat of The Phantom. Ezra’s eyes widened at the question though he remained silent, staring intently out the front viewport. She could not tell, in the blue glow of hyperspace, whether his face had colored. She was sure it had. He was older now, but he was still Ezra. Still good, though he had seen so much. Still earnest, when deception was the name of the game. Still wanting her when she could not fathom why. She would find out.

Marriage

There was a time in Hera’s life when marriage meant more than a commitment between two beings; when ceremony and tradition were as important as loving and cherishing one’s intended. Dreams of a dress and a chapel and a cake and being surrounded by family were not foolish, but they were also no longer relevant. She had chosen Rebellion and therefore put a target on her back. In a completely unexpected display, the Force had granted her love even in the trenches of a galaxy-wide war. She would marry Caleb even if they traded vows over The Ghost’s instrument panel.

Anniversary

The picture he had drawn was horrible. It was little better than stick figures infused with color and ragged trees surrounding them. He was apprehensive about giving it to her. She might not take it as he intended. She might not see that he was trying to share something of himself through her chosen method of expression. He hoped she would not be angry or think him weird or creepy. Maybe she wouldn’t remember given that a year had passed. Maybe she did and it would be okay. Their walk in the woods on Bois had wrecked him for sure.

 

Delicious and in-character use of these wonderful prompts.

Hera's attraction and conclusions about Kanan are totally accurate
I love Ezra's continued and undimmed feelings for Sabine. They start out as a teen kind of crush but stand the test of time and mature with shared struggles and triumphs.

 

@WarmNyota_SweetAyesha: Thank you for ever and ever and so on. I appreciate your support, especially in this REBELS phase. On with the show!

Week 4


Snow

“Come down here, right now, Zeb,” Hera growled, frustration getting the better of her.

“I’m not going anywhere until you kill it,” Zeb said, peering out from the inside edge of the cargo bay.

“You want me to…kill it?” Hera replied, incredulously. “This thing? Right here?” She patted the head of the snow-man Ezra had hastily constructed earlier.

“Whoa!” Zeb exclaimed, suddenly panicked. “Don’t touch it! You want to lose a limb?”

“Which limb? This one?”

Hera jammed her left hand into the snow man’s mouth.

Zeb fainted, dropped to the deck, and rolled down the ramp into the snow.


Sand

“This should not be what I think it is,” Zeb said as he approached Ezra, sitting alone in the galley. His face showed the same amount of expression as the oatmeal in his bowl.

“What do you think it is?” Ezra moaned as he took another bite.

Zeb sat opposite his brother. “You look sick, Boy. I’m just hoping it’s actually some malady in your physical body rather than the other kind.”

“Thanks for that, Zeb,” Ezra replied, dully. “You are a pillar of encouragement.”

“It’s that bad, is it?” Zebb said, thoughtfully. “Plenty of sand in the desert, Kid.”


Water – Legends tangent.

“What are you doing?” Leia asked when she found Han examining the potted palm tree which sat in the window of their Coruscant apartment. He held a decanter of water in his left hand.

“Watering the tree,” he replied, simply.

“Why?” she asked, finding the scene strange.

“It’s looking too yellow for my taste,” he said, touching a leaf and trailing his eyes along it back to the trunk.

“Yellow?” she said, watching him in amazement. “Since when have you been so concerned with plants?”

“Since I can’t stand to lose another life; Anakin, Jacen, or this kriffing house plant.”


Heat

"You look ridiculous," Sabine said, drolly, as he threw his voluminous heat-dried hair back and forth before the mirror.

"Don't care what you think, Sabine," He retorted. "I'm experimenting."

"This experiment is a tragic failure," she continued. "If Zeb sees you, he will be relentless."

"I'm not worried," the apprentice replied, happily. "If anyone has taught me the value of expressing myself shamelessly, it's you."

“I don’t think shamelessly is the word I used,” Sabine responded, peering over his shoulder and seeing a number flimsies displaying different hair styles. She also spied multiple hair products lined up on the counter.


Clouds

The small group of women, sitting casually in Mara’s living room, might well have been see at any Skywalker-Solo family function, so who better to be the founding members of EMOJI (Enigmatic Mothers of Jedi Initiates). Present were Mara Jade, Leia Organa Solo, Tionne, Mirax Horn, and Terris Carol Durron (though her daughter was but a toddler). Mara had toyed with other names for the group like MOMI (Mothers of Mischievous Initiates) and MOPS (Mothers of Petulant Scions) and MARY (Mothers Against Rabid Younglings). None of them nailed her intent. Some of the name evoked a negativity that didn’t work.

 

Snow Oh Zeb!

Sand -- ow, Ezra is sicker than ...
Water -- Han deserves a hug.

Heat -- Sweet.
Clouds -- EMOJI definitely has a ring.

 

@WarmNyota_SweetAyesha and @Mira_Jade: Thank you both following me on this missed drabble journey. I had a lot of fun with Snow and Water was born out an idea I had of Han working with plants. I have really enjoyed working with Zeb and Ezra. They are the perfect brothers to share good-natured teasing and bonding. Especially when it comes to Ezra's feelings for Sabine.

Now, back for a limited engagement: AU Drabbles! I hope your enjoy this set.

Week 5

Seek

Imperial Ace Han Solo was tired of hearing about the new wunderkind who recently graduated from the Academy. Luke Starkiller. Of all the names one could bring to the Empire, it certainly seemed apropos of his apparent skill level. Solo had been keeping tabs on the kid's aptitude reports, and the amount of kills he'd managed to rack up on the simulators was enough to make Solo worry about his own favored status. The old adage about keeping your friends close and your enemies as your wing-man was truer now than ever before. It was time for Darklighter to go.

Sneak

Padme and Leia Skywalker had been on the run since the dawn of the Galactic Empire and the murder of her husband and son. Though she was at the core of the Rebellion, it had taken a lot of convincing for Mon Mothma and Bail Organa to allow the mother-daughter team into the field as spies. But, given their connection to the now all but extinct Jedi, they were tasked with finding and retrieving Obi-Wan Kenobi, the only surviving member of the Jedi Council. The best lead they had was that Kenobi and Yoda had fled to the Dagobah System.

Steal

Jyn Erso was a thief. She had always been a thief and, would likely, die with stolen property on her person. However, when the opportunity arose for her to receive an Imperial-sized payday for putting something back, she could hardly resist. All she was supposed to do was replace a holographic com device back into the travel bag of a certain travelling industrialist. If she completed the job,.she got paid. If she got dead, that was her problem. She had not been caught, but the holonet was kind enough to inform her that she had graduated from thief to murderer.


Share

“I don't know why you're being so stubborn,” Siri Tachi scolded, as her hand covered the hand already on the container before her.

“The only stubborn being here is you, old lady,” said Obi-Wan Kenobi, stroking his beard, now more grey than bronze.

“Old Lady, is it?” she protested, pulling the container toward her. “I'll have you know I am younger than you by...”

“Yes? Go on.”

“By as many years as milileters are left in this Blue Milk container.”

“My Dear Siri, I believe the blue milk has gone to your grey head!”


Sell

Lando Calrissian had no plans to join the Rebellion. He did, however, have a major grudge against Han Solo and heaping serving of self interest. He did not want Vader to dismantle everything he had built at Bespin, nor did he want Chewbacca to strangle the life out him. He played his cards perfectly. As soon as he had gotten Leia and Luke to safety, he sent an encrypted message to Vader informing him of their whereabouts. Han was gone and Chewie soon would be. He liked the Wookie, but, in these times, business was about saving your own skin.

 

Seek & Sell - very plausible AUs
Share ...
Sneak -- now that is awesomely begging to be expanded
Steal -- wow! Definitely a different side of Jyn.

 

@WarmNyota_SweetAyesha: I'm glad you liked these AUs, Nyota. Thank you for reading. Padme and Leia as Rebel spies does sound good, doesn't it?

A/N: This week is born out of my listening to the audiobook of Thrawn by Timothy Zahn. Eli Vanto, no not mty OC Lens Eli, is a character I have grown to love along with Thrawn in this NuCannon novel. He is very much an EU Palleon stand in, but I like his just the same. I hope you enjoy.

Week 6

Serious

There was a time when Eli Vanto had serious doubts about ever finding a date, much less, a wife and family. The life of a Navy man, especially one so inextricably connected to Admiral Thrawn, left little time for such social trivialities. As the years passed, Vanto realized he would have to make it a priority if it were ever going to happen. He loved the Navy, was devoted to Thrawn, but wanted more for himself. He would have to make his wishes known to the Admiral. He did not relish the conversation, but hoped he would understand and approve.


Silly

“It isn’t going to work, Commander,” Thrawn intoned, as he watched his aid dance around the compartment making faces and gesticulating wildly.

“Only because…you aren’t letting…yourself enjoy it,” Eli replied, coming to a stop and breathing heavily.

“I can say with utmost certainty that there was little to enjoy in that display, Commander,” Thrawn said, the briefest smile emerging and subsiding on his lips.

“You asked for it, Admiral,” Eli replied. “I spent hours studying vids of the Pepysi rituals.”

“I will do my best to ensure that neither of us have to repeat what you have learned,” Thrawn stated.


Charming

Eli was sitting alone in the officer’s Mess when Commander Faro entered. He smiled courteously as he watched her pour a cup of caf and grab a Dreeze biscuit from the tray by the caf machine. As she turned back toward him, Eli snapped his gaze back to the data pad on the table before him.

“Do you mind if I join you or a couple minutes, Commander?” she asked.

“Of course ma’am,” he replied, nervously. “How do you keep your uniform so crisp?”

“Charming, aren’t you?” she replied though a cool grin.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, bashfully, cursing himself.


Rude

At first, Eli was wary of Commander Karyn Faro. Though she was his senior officer, she was the Admiral’s subordinate. She was gruff, aggressive, and obviously discontented with serving under an alien, and one whom had risen so meteorically through the ranks. Her responses had been curt, even rude, early on, but over time, her demeanor had softened. She was a commander who took her job seriously. The Admiral did as well. To say she grew fond of Thrawn would be an overstatement, but she did begin to respect his genius and relish being part of such a successful crew.


Funny

Eli Vanto gaped. His mouth hung open and his eyes fluctuated between wide with astonishment and narrow in perplexity. He was witnessing something he had never seen before. He watched closely and wondered what purpose the Admiral had for showing such a break in character; such a vulnerability in the presence of a subordinate. Because Thrawn would have a purpose. He didn’t scratch his backside without a plan. Okay, he didn’t scratch his backside, ever. When it was over, the Admiral resumed his stoic, controlled countenance. Exposure to the Admiral’s fit of laughter would prove relevant in the near future.

 

What I always like about your drabbles is the range in which you write them - original characters, canon, legends - and yet you never confuse me or annoy me. I get sucked into each drabble and the back story of the main character(s). This is a gift, I hope you realise that.

I cannot promise to be a regular reader, but sooner or later you can expect more comments from me. Like a bad habit I will keep popping up.

 

"Serious" -- Very natural thoughts as Eli contemplates what his future might hold.

"Silly" Very fun piece!

"Charming" ... awww. Eli has noticed Karyn. And he's so shy yet sincere.

"Rude" ... hmm. Yes, I can see her feeling such but having to mellow out in the face of Thrawn's genius and competence!

"Funny" ... Definitely a moment to come back to for Eli! And the readers!

 

@AzureAngel2: I know you wrote it a few months back, but I am humbled by you comments, Azure. Thank you. I"m so glad you enjoy them.
@WarmNyota_SweetAyesha: Thank you, Nyota. This was a fun set to write in wake of listening to the book. I'm glad you enjoyed it. Now, I have Thrawn: Alliances to get to which may well produce another set.

A/N: Take this for what it's worth. I haven't written much lately and a good AU set can usually shake me out the melancholy. So, I hope you enjoy this set of TNG/ESB drabbles.

Week 7

Stormy

Jean Luc Picard frowned at the words that had come from the Alderaanian princess. He took a sip of tea while considering his response. The determined young woman, also a senator, was part of an insurgent group that had risen up in response to a conspiracy to take over their planetary government. She was insistent the Federation step in and assist the rebels in destabilizing the Imperial regime.

“I am afraid there is nothing we can do, Senator Organa,” Picard said, reluctantly.

Organa leaned forward, placing her hands on his desk. “Help me, Jean Luc Picard. You’re my only hope.”


Trapped

“I thought your captain said there was nothing he could do,” Han Solo said, as he ducked automatic weapons fire.

Commander William Riker rose from a crouch behind their meager cover and returned fire. “Nothing official. Your princess can be quite persuasive.”

“Tell me about it,” Solo replied, popping up to take his turn as Riker kneeled to reload. “She could convince a career criminal to go straight.”

“Is that what happened to you?” Riker said, shooting a knowing grin at his cohort.

“Mind your own business, Starfleet,” Solo replied.

“Kind of hard when I’ve been invited to mind yours.”


Escape

“I see that you are not familiar with the Wookiee language,” C-3PO observed as Lt. Worf seemed to struggle in his meeting with Chewbacca. “Perhaps, I could be of assistance.”

Worf curled his lips in displeasure. “Our universal translators will usually suffice. It is frustrating that they only appear to work occasionally in this place.”

“My primary purpose, as a protocol droid, is translation. I am happy to assist. I am fluent in over-”

“-Yes, you have made that abundantly clear. However, I do not need six million forms of communication to make my point!” growled Worf, showing Herculean restraint.


Rescue

“We have to go back!” said Princess Leia and Counselor Troi, simultaneously.

Riker balked, not wanting to take the shuttle craft back into battle with the Empire. “If we go back, we could all die.”

“I know you don’t understand, Commander,” Leia pleaded. “But we cannot lose Luke Skywalker. He’s more important that you can possibly imagine.”

Riker turned a questioning glance to Troi, whose face told a tale of anguish. “Deanna?”

She nodded.

Riker banked the shuttle and shot back toward Cloud City. “Be prepared to energize!”

Moments later, Luke let go of spire and felt his body dissolve.


Recover

Luke Skywalker walked into Ten Forward still wearing the loose fitting grey medical garb of The USS Enterprise. He flexed his right hand repeatedly, still getting used the mechanical appendage. He crossed the room, approaching the viewport and stood solemnly looking at The Millennium Falcon.

“Are you well, Lt. Commander Skywalker?” Data asked approaching the young man.

“Not really, Data,” Luke replied, without turning to him.

“Are you concerned about the loss of your friend?” The android inquired.

“Yes, Data, I am concerned,” Luke replied. “But he’s not lost. He’s just missing…temporarily.”

“You will find him soon?”

“Yes. Very soon.”

 

oh, oh! This had FANGIRL ALL OVER IT! Jean-Luc Then put Will and Han anywhere in the same room! And Data is always cool!
A confrontation between 3PO and Worf!

This was SHEERLY DELIGHTFUL!

 

*joins TPAM in a huge, jumping-up-and-down, fangirl squee over the last set.*

 

@WarmNyota_SweetAyesha: I'm so glad you enjoyed these, Nyota! Han and Will were too much fun. Make we want to do more with them. The Worf-3PO was a variation 'Let the Wookie win.' And yet, very Worf.
@Cowgirl Jedi 1701: Thanks, cowgirl! I'm glad you had fun with them.
@Mira_Jade: Hi Mira! Yes, I'm back. Kind of. I'm so happy to hear that this hit the mark for you. Will and Han are a kick and I liked the idea Leia and Troi demanding the return to Cloud city. And, yes, the inversion of that 'Help me.." line was too perfect to pass up.

A/N: This set is ST. I hope you enjoy. On with the show.

Week 8

Mistakes

It is a maddening feeling; like an itch that demands to be scratched, but cannot be easily reached. It is like the persistent wail of helpless child who will not be consoled. Like the sound of Luke Skywalker’s voice on loop in your head reminding you of your failure. No, you angrily correct, it is exactly that.

Amazing. Every word of what you just said was wrong.

Were you so blind as to think he would not defeat you, make a fool of you? That’s what he did. He made you look stupid…in front of your men and your mother.

Corrections

It was three weeks after the skirmish at Crait that Finn approached Rose about her confession of love. It had been an awkward in between, tip-toing around her and the subject. He was not used to sharing his emotions and she knew it. She spared him the immediate discomfort by saying she understood if he needed to think about it. He knew he did not share the depth of her feelings, but he was also not strong enough to come right out and say it; especially while she was recovering from injuries received saving his life. Now was the time.

Prank

Ansyn Turlock was a pain in Rey’s backside. She almost wished she had left the self-hating smuggler to his Imperial fate. Alas, she was a sucker for lost causes and, according to Leia, had a gift of compassion and reaching the lost; the Force sensitive lost, at that.
However, some days her tolerance for his brand of rebellion wore pretty thin and she wondered what brand relatively mischievous torture she could give him in return. She considered having the initiate shadow Ben for a day. Even better, have Ben visit some nightmare into Turlock’s dreams. She would find a way.

Sabotage

Chief of State Poe Dameron escorted his new wife, Amilyn Holdo, from the Senate chamber through the corridor which lead to their private docking bay. As they entered the flight deck, flanked by their security detail, a pallet of shipping containers exploded into a fiery conflagration. The power of the blast threw most of party underneath Poe’s yacht. He landed hard, feeling his right arm break. He immediately checked Amilyn for injury. She was dazed, but appeared unhurt, which was more than he could say for five members of his detail who lay motionless on the deck consumed in flames.

Revenge

Kylo Ren knew Luke was now out of his reach. His uncle had had the last word. He could not hurt the man anymore. But he could still destroy his legacy. The true ‘Last Jedi’ could not be allow to bring their light back into the galaxy. He would exact his revenge on his uncle as well as Rey when crushed her and her little rebellion, too. She would pay dearly for rejecting him, his offer of partnership, companionship, even love. He could not allow such disrespect to remain unanswered. He would burn it all down if he had to.

 

Excellent range of moods here.

 

@WarmNyota_SweetAyesha: Not much mush there, for sure. I appreciate you reading, Nyota.
@Mira_Jade: That Kylo. He's like a dartboard for cartoon villainy. Make my wonder what a whiney teen from Tatooine would be like had gone to the dark side. I'm glad you liked the Poldo! More to come...now.

Week 9

This week: POLDO.

Enemy

In the mind of most military commanders, mutiny is treason and punishable by death. Such a punishment was instituted to make all beings under command think more than twice about their reasoning before rolling the dice of their lives in a game of chance.

Poe Dameron would die if Amilyn Holdo had anything to say about it. She stalked the cell, hard eyes and thin lips pinning her captors. She waited and watched. The young pilot may be handsome, and naive, but good looks and pleas of righteousness would not save him from the gallows.

How could he betray her?


Attack

“I told you I don’t want to hear it again!” Poe barked, turning his back on Amilyn.

“You’re not a pilot anymore, Poe,” she declared. “You can’t be. This isn’t about being a hot shot anymore. The Resistance needs a leader; someone they can count on not getting killed in the next battle.”

“Leaders don’t shy away from battle!” he rebuked. “I won’t hide while sending beings to die in my place. You should know this more than anyone.”

“You know I’m not calling you a coward, Poe. I’m asking you to step up to a higher level of responsibility.”


Negotiate

There was a classic play on Amilyn’s home world that told of a king who, wracked with guilt and tormented by his relentlessly ambitious wife, lost his kingdom and his life because he allowed himself to be led rather than to lead.

Though Amilyn was ambitious, she was not mad, like the king’s wife. She was not the kind of counsel to manipulate her husband to his own destruction. That is not to say that she wouldn’t or couldn’t steer him this way or that when he was uncertain or bull headed. She enjoyed those times more than she should.

Truce

There were numerous times over their course of their marriage that Poe had to fall on his proverbial ligtsaber to sooth the ire of his beloved, to keep the peace when it would have been easier to give in to anger and wounded pride. He lost the inner battle from time to time and lashed out in unkind, if not unforgivable, words. Amilyn was a powerful personality and she had pride of her own. What he could not forget was the power of their passion, their love, which was indeed stronger than the silly circumstances separating them. Fix it, Poe!


Friend

The light was low in their apartment, much like it had been on their first date. They sat at a similarly small table with a light meal before them. Poe’s left hand snugly, but lightly Amilyn’s as they silent regarded each other.

“You know I wanted you dead,” Amilyn said without preamble.

“So you’ve said,” Poe responded, wistfully. “Many times.”

“At the time, I wanted it almost as much as I love you now.”

“I’m so thankful your mind was changed.”

“By mutual friend.”

“It certainly wouldn’t have been me…at the time.”

“Leia was the difference.”

“In so many ways.”

 

Lovely use of the prompts, showing their struggles and closeness, the unbreakableness of their love.

 

@WarmNyota_SweetAyesha: Thanks, Nyota. I'm glad they worked. Poldo needs more attention.

This week:

Week 10


Sky

When ten year old Luke Skywalker emerged from his bedroom and made his way across the open courtyard, something was definitely wrong. He had woken up on time and Aunt Beru should be expecting him for breakfast. Why was he not squinting his eyes at the sunlight? Why was his shadow not proceeding him across the openness? The feeling was ominous and so different from the norm that he feared looking up. Was a Bantha blocking the sun? Or, was it something as terrible as a Rancor? Uncle Owen had taught him to face fear head on. He looked up.


Sun(s)

It was neither a hideous Rancor nor a docile Bantha that held the suns at bay. Of all the things that Luke might have imagined, this was the farthest from his mind. He stared directly into the center of a dark grey RAIN CLOUD! He gawked at its drab beauty, transfixed by the possibility of-

-He felt it hit his cheek, right below his left eye. The cool wetness was electrifying. Reflexively, he touched it, transferring the wetness to his fingers. Another dropped on the top of his head. Another.

“Aunt Beru! Come quick!” Luke exclaimed. “It’s raining! It’s raining!”


Moon(s)

It was by the light of the full moon that Luke and Uncle Owen went to check each of the moisture evaporators. It was unlike his Uncle to smile much or maintain a good mood for more than a few minutes. He would not squander this opportunity.

“It’s good to see you smile, Uncle,” the youngster said.

“Rain is a rare blessing, Luke,” Owen replied. “A gift of whatever gods or powers that be.”

“From the Force?” Luke tested, knowing his Uncle frowned on the subject.

“Sure,” Owen answered with a chuckle. “If you go for that sort of thing.”


Stars

The rain had not lasted long, but its effect on Uncle Owen lasted longer. When they had checked the last evaporator, Luke’s Uncle did something even rarer. He leaned back in the speeder seat and put his feet up. He put his hands behind his head and took a deep breath. Seeing the usually austere man being so casual helped Luke relax and put his own feet up on the dashboard.

“Can you, feel it, Son?” Owen asked, calmly.

“I believe I do,” Luke replied.

What is it?”

“Fresh air. Clean as can be.”

Owner grinned and mussed Luke’s hair.


Lightning

As Luke grew older and his wanderlust increased, his ignorance of the larger galaxy fell away, and his fights with his uncle increased, he still remembered that day when the rain came and Owen Lars found a moment of happiness among the bitterness with which he approached his life. Luke was happy to been part of it, to see a glimpse of the man who could have been. Luke was no philosopher, but he sat awake many a night puzzling over his uncle, wondering why there had never been more. What would it take to shake a man from despair?