Writer's Challenge 5 - Death and Dying

Hey everyone! Cool idea for a challenge Kit! definitely an interesting subject for workshopping, and there've some great results so far. Thought I'd leave my comments first, then come back with my own contribution (which I am putting the finishing touches on now)


CalandriaVery well done, wonderfully sad. A great perspective you've chosen, Qui-Gon's sister, and you made her an interesting character too.

Jade Djo I think you've got it down it perfectly, for anyone who lost a pet as a little kid, or their parents. And you managed successfully to lighten the mood in exploring a heavy topic. kudos for that.

GeezeretteVery powerful missing scene there. I could totally see that happening, imagine that the Owen and Beru we know would have that courage.

tangled-sphereGreat work. I loved the imagery, and how well you portrayed Padmé. Might I ask for an expanded version? [face_beg]

Healer_Leona: Wow. I always did wonder what he was thinking and feeling in this scene and I don't think it could have been carried out better. Love how you don't say explicitly who it is until the end.

jedi_keladry You've made that battle touching, heartbreaking and personal with this viggie. Excellent work.

Luney: Awesome, my friend! You conveyed the feelings and thoughts so believably. And the little girl.. *sniffles* well, I'll choose to believe that she's OK.

 

Here it is! This is a bit of a departure for me, I think,in that I?ve never really written in this time period, but I hope you guys like. The song is ?A Little Fall of Rain? from ?Les Misérables? (I am a hopeless and devoted Mizzie, I?m afraid ) and funny story, this song actually inspired me initially to think of another SW scene entirely. I ntended to do Anakin and Padmé together at her death. But then the songfic turned into..well, this..
Hope you enjoy!

And Rain Will Make the Flowers Grow
Jedi Knight Rilla Osiris crawled on her hands and knees, her breath rasping, every movement agony. The battle was still raging around her, but she knew she was spent, that there was little time left to her. The deep wound in her side from a lightsabre blade, and the severe beating she?d taken as one of the enemy had decided to use her rather violently for his personal telekinesis exercise had determined that. She knew she?d used all her strength.
But at least, she thought grimly, I got to take a few of them with me.
And, she noted with deep satisfaction, this day would not be in vain. The Massassi are already responding to our calls to rise up against their cruel slave masters, and as for us, following Master Ulic Quel-Droma we number in the thousands, and more are coming. The Order will be safe, and united, now. Finally, no more division, no more war..
Her only regret, as she dragged herself across the clearing in front of the Temple was that she would not see her brother, or know his fate. She stopped, and the tears came as she considered her older sibling. In a family of eight, they were the only ones who?d been identified as Jedi and taken to the Temple as babies. And as such, they?d been inseparable. It still stunned her, how quickly everything went wrong. How quickly the brother she looked to and loved had become one of the Sith Exar Kun?s followers. Of course, it hadn?t been as sudden as that. He had always been wreckless, restless, troubled. She should have seen..
Her thoughts were interrupted by a violent coughing fit. It subsided finally, and she drew her hand across her mouth. It was an odd feeling to see her hand come away bright red. A detached feeling.
She continued determinedly forward, seeking some sort of shelter, any shelter that could provide her peace in her last moments.
The foot came down viciously on her hand.
The dark figure loomed over her.
?You?re not going anywhere, Jedi.? The voice was cold. He grabbed her and forced her to stand.
Just then, she became aware of a familiar presence. A voice she?d known anywhere.
?Get away from her!?
A lightsabre blade hummed through the air, and her captor?s grip loosened. His body made a dull thud on the ground. She sank to her knees again. Relief flooded her being,
For the young man looking at her, grey eyes so like her own, was truly Elian. Her Elian. She felt herself lifted into his strong arms. She tried to shunt away the pain of being jostled. It took all of her not to cry out, even though he was gentle.
He didn?t have to take her far, soon, they had reached the protection of the forest,
?You?re hurt. I?ll get you help. I?ll.. You?ll be fine Just hold on.?
?It?s.. too late." Breathing was becoming more difficult. She could feel the vibroblade of his dawning comprehension, as he took in the extent of her injuries.
?Oh, Elian, I?m not.. afraid to make ..this journey. Especially not ..now that you?ve come back.. to me.?

Don't you fret, M'sieur Marius
I don't feel any pain
A little fall of rain
Can hardly hurt me nowYou're here, that's all I need to know
And you will keep me safe
And you will keep me close
And rain will make the flowers grow.

He sat down against the strong support of the trunk, and cradled her, He'd been shocked to feel her presence here. How brilliantly her spirit shone. Her wounds.

Now, Elian could only see the gaping black hole of his betrayal, a yawning chasm of guilt. His part in causing suffering to the one person who was his everything.

 

Calandria Very well done showing Marena's reaction to her brother's death, even to the point of wanting to end it all. I felt like I was right there as she gazed out, not really seeing the setting sun.

JadeDjo The death of a pet is so hard! They are a part of the family. Seeing this from Valin's point of view was heartbreaking (but I did have to smile when I heard it was a rodent.. ) I like to think that we get to see our pets again after we die!

Geezerette50 Knowing what happens makes this one very eerie! I like their defiance in the face of death but very sad knowing the aftermath. Well done. I also like how you added a missing scene from ANH!

Healer_Leona Wow! Seeing that scene from Obi-Wan's eyes was powerful. Knowing all the wrongs that had been done and knowing in his final moments that he can make things right, was wonderful. " His friend, padawan..." Well done!

Jedi_Kaladry There is so much suffering here seeing the aftermath of war for both sides. I like that Metrina is reunited with her Master in the end. I like to think we get to see our loved ones again.

Padawan_Lunetta That was intense!!! I'm attached to her character! Now I want to read more to see her get rescued!!! Right? Right? Eeek!!!

Please disregard my entry, being a newbie I didn't know you were supposed to write something brand new. Ooops! I'll have to redeem myself with another one.

 

MY FINAL CONFLICT

Obi-Wan Kenobi Recalls his Final Duel with Darth Vader after his Death

By Obi-Wan Kenobi
0 BBY ? 0 ABY


I am now one with the Force. I have passed on into the Jedi afterlife, something hardly any other Jedi has done. For future records, I will be recording this information into the databanks of an astromech droid while I still remain in spirit form. The droid will then pass on the information to further generations of Jedi when the time is right.

As I approached my former apprentice, my mind was racing with thoughts. I did not know whether I should battle to my full ability or back down and allow myself to be destroyed easily. I knew that Luke Skywalker was the only hope for the galaxy, and I must do what will aid him the most.

I have been waiting for you, Obi-Wan. The circle is now complete. When we left, I was but the learner. Now I am the master.

?Only a master of evil, Darth.?

I referred to him as Darth as a way to show him that I accepted that I would never be able to turn him back from the dark side. I knew in my heart that only his son, Luke, could bring him back. There was no use in my trying anymore.

And at that moment, I realized that if Luke were to succeed, he would need me out of his way. My death would bring about a needed change in the current situation. It is best if Luke does not develop a dependence on me. I could not be there for him at all times, and would not always be there to rescue him. Luke would have to learn from both from Yoda and on his own, which would make him stronger in the long run. I already had one failed apprentice. I did not want to fail another one.

So I determined that sacrifice was the best option. Not only would it help make Luke stronger in the long run, but it would fuel my old apprentice?s overconfidence, something I thought could end up working against him at some point.

I decided that I must sacrifice myself in front of Luke. It was the only way he would understand what was going on. If my plan to become One with the Force succeeded, I knew that I must follow through with the plan in a way that would not keep Luke around looking for me after I was gone.

As Vader and I stood facing each other, it seemed as if a heavy weight was being placed on my shoulders. It may have been a combination of many things: I was facing my former apprentice yet again, I was on the brink of being struck down by his blade, and I had to make sure Luke survived, as he was the last hope for the galaxy.

I made the first move, striking at my former apprentice, but he blocked, though more slowly than he would have at one time. I have to admit, however, that I was moving slower than I would have at one time too. I think that the fact that we were both old and out of practice and that we were both somewhat reluctant to enter an all out battle led to our slowdown.

Your powers are weak old man.

So were his, but I?m sure he didn?t realize it. As the battle raged on, I began to wonder if Luke and his companions were coming or if something had happened to them. My former apprentice and I continued attacking and defending each other?s strikes, and we both began to slow down as old age and old scars took control of us. Neither of us was willing to give up, though.

And then came Luke out of an adjacent corridor. ?Look!? he said. Luke?s outburst caused some stormtroopers to look around as well, and they rushed to aid my former apprentice. Luke?s companions were also present now.

Now was the time for my sacrifice. I turned to directly face my former apprentice. Thoughts of how I could help Luke in my Jedi afterlife quickly passed through my mind again, although this was certainly not the first time I had had these thoughts.

I deactivated my lightsaber, and allowed my former apprentice to strike me down. I entered the Jedi afterlife at exactly that moment. My body was gone, my former apprentice confused, and Luke on his way out.

My work in physical form was now complete.

 

Kathryn: Very nice, I really like the relationship between the sister and brother, and the implimented lyrics were perfect.

And the child survive? Well to you and Tangled_Sphere, the story is loosely based off of The Scarlet Pimpernel if that tells you anything.

jedi_master_ousley: Obi's death is popular Nice work, I liked the view point where it was after the fact.

 

Five Death Scenes for tf.n March 2004

I took Kit??s admonition very seriously. On Thursday last I sat in the airport terminal awaiting my flight to WA to spend several days with daughter and her family, and wrote this one?.


?Kiss of Death?

Given their relative speeds and the masses of their ships, even an overlap collision of less than five percent of the width of their crafts would more than cripple them both. But if that was the only method remaining to stop this menace, his own life was a small price to pay.

It was an easy task to lock in the targeting computer, useless now for traditional weaponry with the guns having been disabled, to the navigation systems. The tool to attempt the destruction of the enemy leader would be this very ship ? not as fast a projectile as a torpedo or laser, but bulkier, certainly. Dodging and rolling away from the fire propelled at him from his adversary and the minions who flanked him, he pulled up behind the group and looped above them. It wasn?t necessary to direct his fighter to face the enemy. All he had to do was make a connection.

With scant seconds remaining, a portion of his mind screamed, as from a distance, insisting on self-preservation. His gut clenched, in part due to the sudden protest of a craft being commended to maneuver in what should have been impossibly tight configurations, and in part from the very human desire to survive. But that was no longer an option. Brief, strobe-flash images of those who would be left behind ? mother, sister, fiancée, mingled with the final voice transmissions of the comrades, all of his squadron mates, that he had lost in this battle. But rather than shoving those sensations and memories aside, he used them to fuel his resolve.

?For them. For Alderaan. For freedom!? he rasped huskily, gripping the console with all of his strength.

METALRENDING, PEELINGAWAY, BLAZINGLIGHT, SPARKS, ELECTRICALLIGHTNINGDISCHARGE, FLAMING, SUCKINGVACUUM, SCREAMING, REDGLOBULESSWARMINGUP, GLOVEDARMSPINNINGAWAY, AGONYCOLDCOLDCOLDCO


Then I took my journal out while in the plane and wrote these four. Yes, I am spamming.


?She Killed ?Em ? a Last Scene on Alderaan?

It was by far her finest performance; she felt detached, as though she were seated with the audience rather than passionately channeling the tragically wronged heroine. This separated point-of-view allowed her to soak in the observers? rapt connection to her dead-on characterization. If only the playwright were alive to witness this, he would surely be weeping and biting through his lip to choke down the sobs she would be effortlessly wringing from him.

She felt truly at the top of her craft. The Alderaa Amphitheatre rang with her stinging, barbed defensive nettles thrown at her tormentors, underscored by the sniffling and moaning of the now-captive audience. The waves of complete involvement from the watchers mingled with the awed respect from the onstage cast. Yet she remained in character, her shouted demands for justice echoing off the curved back walls that flung them out onto the stricken crowd.

The sudden change in lighting, clearly an error on the part of the crew, distracted her naught, but caught some of the less-experienced actors by surprise. It startled one of her ?judges?, who stumbled on his line due to the flare?s brilliant emerald intensity. But her stalwart expression of disdain never changed, even when the deep rumble beneath them morphed into a quaking that resonated with the pulsating jade abomination. As she rejoiced inwardly, the audience screamed with a single voice at the moment of her execution?..

And theirs.



?Cutting Edge?

She kept her breathing shallow so as not to expand the tissues at her throat. The heat and vibrating energy of the laserknife let her know exactly how close to her skin her assailant was holding the weapon as he encircled her waist with one corded arm and her life with the other.

Trembling was out of the question.

She hooded her eyes and relaxed back against him as much as

 

Oh my goodness. There's too many great pieces here for me to comment on them all. Here's my contribution.



"Why?"
_________



Sobbing, she held him close, unheeding of the blood smearing her tunic. His eyes, lovely brown orbs, begged her to make it different, make it not so, but Trin could not do that. Blood, so much blood, and it was everywhere. Rocking, the hot tears spilling down her cheeks, she could only whimper and hold him. The vibroblade had cut too deeply for anything other than instant medical attention to help. The closest was over five minutes speeder ride away, so instant was out of the question.

"I told you," she murmured through the tears. "I told you not to get involved with the rebels. I told you that it was dangerous. Why didn't you listen to me?"

His mouth opened and closed in soft gasps, trying to force words past the pain. All that came was a small bubble of yet more blood that burst upon his lips, one more red smear lost in a host of others.

"Shhh, don't try to talk. I warned you. Why couldn't you listen?"

So much blood. How could there be so much blood and her husband still live, still breathe? It was soaking into her pants, staining her tunic and blouse, slicking her hands and pooling beneath the both of them, and she held him closer still.

Why? Why did it have to be like this? Why hadn't he listened? They were killing rebels and rebel sympathizers every day, and he should know, it was part of her job. Even if he did not believe her, it said so right on the news. Why?

As if hearing her thoughts, Xanic finally gathered enough strength to speak. "Why, Trin?" he asked hoarsely. "Why did you..." He coughed, never finishing the sentence, but one hand fluttered in the direction of the instrument of his death that still buzzed malevolently on the floor where it had fallen from her hand.

"Because all traitors to the Empire must die. You know that. You've always known that." Trin cradled his head to her bosom, a fresh wave of grief crashing over her as she saw the light in his eyes finally dim. "Why? Why didn't you listen to me?"

 

I at first tried to express this piece from the eyes of a SW character, but I couldn't make it work. So the character is me, and is autobiographical.

****

I fidget slightly in the awkward silence of the room. My eyes stare down at my lap, at my knuckles gone white as my fists squeezed shut in an attempt to keep my fingers from fiddling.

Someone murmurs softly, and I look up finally, glancing around the room, my gaze flitting quickly from one spot to the next: my aunt, my sister, my parents, the nurse, the pictures on the walls that spoke of happy memories. My eyes take in the carpet, the extra chairs that were dragged in from the living room. My gaze travels over the silent television set, the table with lamp and pain medicines, the two dogs who sit quietly and mournfully beside us. I look everywhere ? everywhere but the bed.

I don?t want to remember you this way, Grandfather. Cold, lifeless, emaciated. They say you died in your sleep, not more than half an hour ago. I would have preferred to stay at home, to wait for the funeral where they would attempt to paint some life on you in death.

I don?t want to stare at your dead body while we wait for the hearse to come and take you away.

My leg twitches slightly, evidence of my desire to flee the room. This bedroom used to be warm, filled with the odd assortment of items and smells that were unique to my grandparents. But now it is the place of my torment, where I have slowly watched a proud man wither to a pained wisp of the person he used to be.

But I know my torment was nothing next to his own. How he slowly deteriorated, losing his independence, increasing pain that could not be eased, and ghosts of the past that came to haunt him in hallucinations brought on in the final stages of his cancer.

I don?t know when was the last time he looked at me and saw me. I don?t take it personally that he barely reacted to my presence when I visited his home a week ago. He barely was aware of anyone or anything. I felt guilty when I found it difficult to sit beside him and try to talk as if he could hear me, as if nothing was wrong. His harsh, rasping breath and sudden moans frightened me, and I wanted to cry instead of speak and hold his hand.

They say the hearse has arrived. Everyone rises quietly, ready to file past the bed. My aunt starts to cry, and we quickly envelop her in a family hug, but I feel numb inside. I try not to look at my father. I don?t want to burst into tears. Not yet. I want out of the room.

One by one we walk past my grandfather?s still form. I can only pause long enough to reach out and gently touch his hand ? so cold already it startles me ? and whisper an apology to him. I?m sorry I can?t stay longer. But this isn?t how I want to remember you.

 

This is a great thread, I'm really enjoying these stories.


Kathryn That was powerful! I love the timeframe you placed your story in. Very touching part showing how she brings her brother back to the light. This is one of my favorites!

jedi_master_ousley I really enjoyed hearing Obi-Wan's thoughts of the events that led up to his death. Thanks for taking me back to that fateful and (dramatic!) moment.

Geezerette50 I can relate to writing on the plane! I like to read these stories and write on my way to work on the bus. You can really see all these characters facing their last moments. I could feel the blade in 'Cutting Edge'. When I fly I definitely could not think about these kind of crash stories! (I'm the one in the plane repeating over and over to myself... wingspan...air-velocity equals flight!) Very brave of you Also loved the one about Chewie!

Lilith Demodae That was so sad seeing the aftermath of what happens to the "traitors." You see how devestating it was for the loved ones of those who were brave enough to stand up to the Empire. Well done!

Happy Hobbit Padawan Thanks for sharing this powerful moment. You're thoughts felt so familiar and really touched me. Really well done.

 

This plot bunny actually caught me as I was looking today at the icon I chose. I had to (try) to redeem myself for my last blunder

Alderaan




The last time she had seen Alderaan from high above, it had been under happier circumstances. She had just been reunited with her father after months away on her first diplomatic mission. And now, only a nightmare shadow of those previous times loomed before her.

Leia Organa could only watch in awe, as the initiation sequence commenced. She wished she could wake up and find this all a dream, comforted in her father?s arms. The world looming below, that now seemed so small and fragile, had molded her into the person she was now. So many memories flooded back to her. Leia could see her father so clearly walking with her through the woods, counseling her on world politics as they strolled, watching the sun filter through the trees?

Leia was forced back into the moment as she heard, a low whine come from the control room. This twisted monstrosity was gathering its energies to destroy everything she loved. Alderaan was where she had seen firsthand the injustices of the Empire. The leaders of the Senate, who had openly opposed the Emperor, were taken suddenly against their will. That was the day she vowed to oppose the Empire. The fateful day that led her to this moment? Leia stared in disbelief at Governor Tarkin as the engines began to reverberate throughout the control room. It was beyond comprehension and a feeling of numb unreality overtook her. The Empire would soon obliterate her peaceful world.

Leia couldn?t breathe.

Involuntarily she started to reach for her world through the screen to take and protect it in her hands. Right behind her, a grip on her shoulder kept her firmly in place. She trembled as the beam gathered together and pierced the atmosphere. Leia closed her eyes, looking down at the cold steel floor. She couldn?t imagine life without her family. Anger began to replace the numbness. She would forever, to the end of her life, be against the Empire. Tarkin and the Empire had chosen Alderaan because they knew how much it meant to her. Still a doubting voice spoke deep inside her? ?All those lives destroyed and for what? Is the Rebellion really worth this??

Leia looked up, a completely impenetrable look on her face as she viewed the dark void that had once been her home. Forever, she would be against them. This monstrosity that was the Empire had to end. Her family would not die in vain. Somewhere out in the vast expanse of stars, was a little R2 unit who carried the fate of a universe.

As she was led away, Leia held this hope deep inside her. Some things could never die.

 

He had sometimes wondered what death was like. This was not it. Bad guys had never been part of any of his wonderings.

His tormentor laughed, and he shivered nervously. The straps that held him down didn't budge, he'd tried. And he couldn't reach his lightsaber--there was something in the way, most likely his captor.

He struggled again against the straps. The man laughed again. "Well, my little Jedi," he said smoothly, "you know why I've brought you here."

"I don't," the Jedi replied.

"Then I'll tell you," the man intoned, sounding bored with the whole process. "I brought you here to kill you, make you suffer--for you are a Jedi, and I hate Jedi."

The metal behind his back felt like an icy fire to his skin--having had his shirt removed and only his pants remaining. The man walked closely to where the boy lay, coming into the half-light. He smiled. "You stopped me from taking Skywalker's child, so I took you instead. I get rid of you, I can get the boy, understand? It's not that I don't admire your spirit, I do, but you must understand that for me to succeed, I must get what I want."

Xander's eyes narrowed. "And what do you want?"

"To gain control of what's left of the Empire and bring it back to power. Power is what I seek and Skywalker's child is the leverage I need to win over the New Republic."

Xander snorted in laughter. "I doubt it. Master would die before he let some piece of Hutt slime like you touch his son."

"My point exactly." He moved back into the shadows of the room and began to fiddle with some instruments, positioning them, setting them up. He turned back, his cloak swishing as he moved. "Now, little Jedi," he muttered. "Time to die."

The straps fell off and dangled to the sides of the metal board he'd been laying. Xander sat up in amazement. What? he thought incredously. Oh well, time for the bad guy to die. He slid off and pulled his lightsaber to him and ignited it. Its brilliant orange bounced light into some far corners.

"Yes, boy, I want to fight. That's why I released you. I've heard about your saber skills," the man taunted. He charged the boy, who met his attack with well-attuned responses. But his body had not been prepared for the quick change from laying prone to standing and fighting. He staggered a bit, but managed to dodge the slash of the crimson blade that tried to cut him down. They both twirled in the deadly dance, then retreated to various corners.

Xander sucked in breaths, his side hurting from the bruises he'd received before he'd arrived. His head spun, making it hard to think. He tried to find anyone nearby who was an ally, but it seemed hopeless. Don't think like that, Venravder, he scolded himself. Think. Use your head. What can I use that he doesn't have?

?Xander? Are you in here??

The man, about to charge again, froze when he heard the voice of the man that he loathed. "What are you doing here, Skywalker?"

"Rescuing one of my students. What did you expect, that I'd leave him here to die?" The blond man laughed. Xander snapped off his saber and began to walk over to his master. Luke raised a hand and he stopped. ?You tried to take my son, Natos,? Skywalker said.

?And this brat here stopped me. So I took him instead.?

The man charged Luke. Luke ignited his saber, yelling, ?Xander! Run!?

Xander took off, as fast as his legs could carry him. Suddenly, he couldn?t see, and he hit the ground, squirming and writhing. It burnt, oh, it burnt. He couldn?t think, couldn?t breathe. A thought shoved itself through the pain: Is this how I?m gonna die?

Then the pain stopped, but he still lay on the cold tile floor, hands clasped over his eyes, his body burning. His breaths came in ragged gasps. Faintly, he could hear footsteps fading away and felt the touch of a robe on one arm.

?Xander??

Master?s voice. He couldn?t be dead then?unless Master was dead too.

?Answer me, Xander.?

Xander rolled onto his side, slowly, painfully. He could sense Master?s worry through the Force, and Luke could f

 

My Face






I remember that day all to clearly. It was the day I saw myself die. The day I truly realized what being a Clone meant.
I am an ARC Trooper. The best of the best.
I fought along side of another ARC trooper. I would call this ARC Trooper my friend. I believe that is the right word. It doesn?t matter though. We were trying to force back a group of Super Battle Droids. They had attacked a small Republic Outpost and we were determined to hold them back. I shot at everything I could see. The air was on fire.
Soon there was only one Super Battle Droid left. Instead of firing at me it did something I never would have expected: it punched me.
My helmet had been shot before so it was already loose. When the Droid punched my helmet went flying. I brought my gun up to shoot him but he shot at me and the blast hit my armor and bounced into my gun. The gun was useless. I charged forward and kicked the Droid in the faceplate. The Droid slammed into the ground.
I smiled and said, "We did it."
There was no reply.
I turned and saw the remains of my?friend. His bottom half was burnt to a crisp. His body was twisted
I knelt down to him and sighed. He was dead. Dead. Dead.
My only friend: dead.
Behind me I heard I sound. More Droids.
I grabbed my friends gun and pulled off his helmet. I gasped. My face was there. I looked and saw myself dead. I caught a sob in my throat. Was that me down there?
In a way it was.
Then I remembered the Droids.
Too late. I was shot as I began to turn around. The last thing I saw was my dead face.

End.

Hope you liked it.

 

This idea came fairly quickly when I saw the theme. It's set during ANH. [And the conclusion is intentional.]

* * * * *

Time to Reflect -- A Drabble


It seemed foolish in retrospect, really. The princess hadn't hit anywhere vital, and his armor had absorbed the blaster bolt well enough, anyway. It was only a momentary loss of balance that resulted in his current predicament.

He wondered for several meters if he should face forward, watching the Death Star's core grow ever larger, or backward, letting the end be a surprise.

He chose the latter, so he could concentrate on the next question, which was what would happen next. Would everything just stop, or would he be aware of leaving his body? He was still wondering when he

 

I like it Fett. I do.

 

I liked it too...very unique, and I like that. The abrupt ending was a good implication of what happened.

Also, thank's for the praise to those of you who liked my fanfic!

 

Mine is a little different. This is part of an upcoming post for DOTF, where an OC Admiral's conversation with a younger officer who has never seen battle, but is eager for combat, triggers memories of his own experiences.



He remembered his first battle, years ago. Pirates were attacking Rim shipping and he, a newly-minted Captain in charge of a frigate squadron, was ordered to engage them. He did, outnumbered and outgunned, but his insistence on training his ships and crews to a fever pitch and an audacity that surprised an overconfident enemy and completely thrown him off balance, had brought a stunning victory ? and promotion to Rear Admiral.

The memories that stayed with him most vividly of the battle were not those of commands and maneuvers, or even of the men he had lost ? though he remembered those as well. Instead, the image that remained crystal clear in his mind was of standing on the bridge of his flagship after the battle was over, and watching a strange debris field drifting through the vacuum of space in front of the bridge windows.

It was the contents of the enemy ships sucked into the void from hull breeches and left to drift in the desolate blackness and silence of deep space ? left to drift in strange and aimless clouds, in random juxtapositions ?structural beams and sections of hull plating, twisted into complex shapes, warped and discolored by heat. Desks and chairs and hundreds of datacards, hydrospanners and eating utensils, blaster rifles and bunks, boots and Sabacc cards, and sheets of frozen liquids ranging from hyperdrive coolant to the blood of a dozen sentient species ? and dozens of bloodstained pieces of clothing ? there were no bodies left intact in the vacuum except for those in pressure suits.

He had stood there for a long time, staring in fascinated horror, wondering what it would be like to die in such a manner; his remains consigned to a small, synthetic asteroid field, or preserved inside the burned-out hull of a warship, unchanging, frozen, preserved from decay for perhaps millions of years, long forgotten to countless generations, infinitesimally small and insignificant amidst an ever-expanding universe.

 

Okay, I've finished Ruina Rostovis Domini (The Fall of Master Rostov) over on the Saga board.

 

Healer_Leona: Thanks. Tears? Wow. I didn't think it was THAT good.

I'd been toying with those ideas for a while... All my fics tend to accumulate upon each other, even the round robins in which I participate... Bal's there because of Martuf, who became Rostov's padawan when I set out to write my Christmas challenge. Rostov himself was created for an old challenge that I used to expound on the backstory of Josh Di'arris, an ancestor of my Shadows of Conflict protagonist, and Rostov eventually will be shown as the padawan of a Jedi I'm going to introduce in The Cost of Honor. It's a tangled web, but I've gotten some moments like this one out of it, so I'm happy.

 

Are you an Angel?

I had written this in response for this, but didn't come back and link it as I wasn't sure if it counted as a "death" vig.

 

Very creepy! I never thought aobut how the clones may view life.. or death. I like!

Thank you very much.

 

I've finally had enough time to read everyone's post...and what can I say? They are ALL brilliant! Reading all these give me inspiration to go and write some more.

 

Very cool, but I give you fair warning....

I fly home tomorrow.





Sue

 

Ahhh, it didn't happen. On the bus ride, terminal stay and plane flight, I read the new Zahn novel instead......

Maybe more later this month.


Sue