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I. First Impression

When he hears Obi-Wan call Qui-Gon Master, it is as if the ship has lurched beneath him; he has been terribly no–what slaver would go through such an elaborate ruse to capture one boy, even a top racer? And he can sense the rightness, as surely as if he were beholding the wonders of the Jedi Temple already. (He is not sure what those wonders are, as mostly when he imagined Jedi they were flying or fighting, but right now the air seems as imbued with promise as with oxygen.)

So he assesses Obi-Wan again, and sees a man younger, less scarred, than Qui-Gon’s example had lead him to imagine Jedi to be; were he raised in Mos Espa, Anakin thought, Obi-Wan would be...what? A gambler, a farmer, a vagrant? He does not seem to fit any of those molds. On Tatooine, anyone with such...such a shy sort of politeness, paired with the authority and skill shown by the fact he carried a lightsaber, would be left alone.

II. Conflict

Obi-Wan was waiting when Anakin arrived in the apartment. He looked at the grease stains on Anakin’s brown-clad flanks, at the dirt tracked in across the immaculate Temple carpets. He knew better by now than to ask where Anakin had been.

Instead, he chose, “What did you learn?”

Anakin looked confused. He passed into the suite, began to undo dirt-stained tabards with his back to his teacher. “I learned that winning a couple races means attracting young fans who want advice.”

“Hmm. And do you advise them?”

“A little.”

“Be careful. If too many beings recognize you–I’ve given up telling you not to flee the temple on every whim, but Padawan–”

Anakin disappeared into his room, leaving the door cracked open. Obi-Wan thought about when the carpet-cleaning droid next made its rounds.

Anakin said, “I know, Master. I never stay long afterward. And there’s only so much to teach. They won’t ever be like me.”

The arrogance slipped out effortless and sincere, and Obi-Wan knew he was right; no one without the Force–no one with, if Obi-Wan were honest–could do the things Anakin did. But the difference between Master and apprentice was not as different as that between those with the Force and those without.

A memory came to Obi-Wan then, something that he wasn’t sure would be right, but that nagged at his brain until he revealed it. “Qui-Gon once told me that a good teacher’s greatest desire is for his student to become more talented than himself.”

“I think that’s a bit foolish,” Anakin said, and it was as if he had insulted Qui-Gon. “That could leave the teacher in danger. And it might not be possible. Everyone has so much talent. So many midi-chlorians.” He emerged into the sitting room, wearing a fresh tunic.

He felt what he had done and said, “I’m sorry,” and then, “I mean, I just think as a statement it’s too absolute.”

“That it is,” said Obi-Wan soberly.

III. Their Finest Hour

There is a moment, during the great hurtling final flight of the Invisible Hand, when in the storm of the Force Anakin slides aside into the calm center and sees Obi-Wan. He cannot spare a glance from the controls and readouts, but from the Jedi Master’s presence in the Force he can picture his mentor’s expression with almost no effort; jaw set beneath his beard, blue eyes straight ahead, hands loose but white on the armrests. Anakin knows how much Obi-Wan hates to fly, and so his unexpected, Force-borne calmness is a patch of serenity.

They could all die here, now, but Anakin has faced death before, and he cannot help but revel in speed, in how gouts of fire rip from the ship’s hull and flash past, cooling from white to red. He hears every crack and strain of the hull and understands their meaning as if they were language, Huttese or Basic or the song of the Force. He has always met action with action, but here by his Master’s example he meets it with silence, potential readiness, a calm center. For just a moment.

IV. Each Other’s Creations

It is on Mustafar, as their lightsaber blades cross like reality and its reflection in the mirror, that he realizes without a doubt that he is stronger than Obi-Wan. Not more experienced or more controlled–certainly not a better teacher. But he has always been more talented, and this, he realizes, makes the Council’s denial of his Mastery moot. He is apart from their system.

So they fight, strike-twist-strike-deflect-set, oh-so-precise, and Anakin thinks he has nothing more to learn.


And so, after another fight, in which the lightsaber blades were blue and green but nevertheless purer reflections of each other than were the blue and blue, one aspect of the Force asks another, “Master, can you possibly forgive me?”

“Of course. You have learned that no one should ever stop learning.”

“I know.” But a bit of rakishness remains. “That’s such a cliche.”

Obi-Wan had been trusting Anakin to pick up his platitude instead of the truth of what he said. “It isn’t. I say that everyone should keep learning, not that it is impossible to ever stop. Many stop. They become too used to a repetitive world.”

Anakin considers, replies; “I know now that we were all slaves to Palpatine; I was, and the Republic, and perhaps the Jedi. But I won’t confuse a Master who restricts one world with a mentor, who expands it, ever again.”

And because it is the Force speaking, two of its strongest aspects fused with itself again, Luke feels their thoughts, and breathes in deep the cool clear air of Endor, and smiles at his father.
Without access to I'm getting twitchy. I'm not review-hungry, or I'd like to think I'm not -- I'd do this whether others read it or not. But knowing that others do read it now, I don't like leaving them without. And it's one of my favourite things to talk about.

So, would you like to see more of my fan fic on this site?

This is the first chapter of a series about Masters and Padawans, inspired by [link] .
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Atton was leaning back against a wall at the entrance to one of Nar Shaddaa's innumerable and crowded alleyways with his arms crossed across his chest and his eyes half closed. To the casual observer he appeared to be just another bored spacer, lounging around and waiting for... something. Unfortunately for him, he wasn't having to work too hard to make his affectation believable. He almost wished that the seedy looking Exchange thug that kept eyeing him would pick a fight just so he could add some excitement to his day.

She owes me for this, he thought to himself, mentally adding this outing to the growing tally of favors owed to him by the Jedi Exile. He couldn't stop from grinning as he pictured his plan of collecting on the debt involving a bottle of juma and Lilli in that little dancer's outfit.

Yeah, well you won't collect on anything if you don't pay attention, his voice of reason cut in, reminding him that he was supposed to be watching out for any trouble that their glorious leader seemed to attract on a non-stop basis. Atton reluctantly pushed aside his mental images of Lilli and glanced over to his left to check on her progress with yet another refugee. They had spent the better part of the day chasing down vague rumors of the hidden and ever elusive Jedi Master and it seemed that Lilli felt it necessary to talk with every Force forsaken being on this moon.

Lilli must have sensed Atton looking at her for she stopped talking to the Twi'lek and turned her head back over her shoulder towards him. He unconsciously straightened up a bit at her attention. Giving him one of those smiles that took his breath away and made his pulse race, she mouthed, Just a minute more, before turning back around to finish her conversation.

Atton felt himself nodding dumbly and was dimly aware that at this precise moment he would have cheerfully agreed to just about anything that she wanted. You've got it bad, you know, his voice of reason stated, making another appearance.

Well, so what if I do, he shot back defensively.

She's a Jedi, it observed. That usually doesn't end well.

Yeah? What do you know, anyway?

Atton could almost feel the voice giving a mental sigh. Lost in the argument, he failed to notice the little scrap of humanity that was barreling towards him until he was nearly knocked over from the impact.

"Hey! Watch where you're going kid!" he grumbled irritably to the young boy that had bounced off of him and was in the process of slowly picking himself up off the ground.

"Is everything all right?" Lilli asked coming up to them, looking from Atton to the flustered boy, having finished her conversation with the refugee. The boy kept his head down and mumbled something while Atton just scowled.

"Come on sweetheart," she said to the boy, leaning down to brush off his shirt and give him a quick kiss on the forehead. "Run along now. Everything is fine,"

The boy gave her a toothy smile before turning to continue his mad dash down the alleyway. Atton took the opportunity to come up behind her and leaning in close enough to brush her ear with his lips, murmured suggestively, "So angel... where's my kiss?"

With a smug grin, he watched a shiver run down her spine and idly wondered if he would ever grow tired of pushing her buttons.

More likely that one day she'll push a button, the one that says airlock, was the answer he got.

"Well, since you didn't fall down and hurt yourself... you don't need one," Lilli answered impishly, turning to smirk up at him, apparently deciding to ignore the whole thing.

"That's not fair," he said dejectedly. The scoundrel then brightened up and waggling his eyebrows at her asked, "Can I get one the next time I get hurt?"

"We'll see about that, flyboy," she answered lightly, her gaze drifting over his shoulder and towards the ground. "Hey, look, that little boy dropped something," Lilli said, taking a few steps past him and stooping to pick up some sort of advertisement.

"What is it?" Atton asked, coming up to her.

"I'm not sure," she replied, handing the advertisement to him. "Its for something called a… rave? Do you know what that is?"

Several hazy memories, both good and bad, clashed in Atton's brain, making him wince imperceptibly at the word 'rave'. He had spent a lot of time on Nar Shaddaa in the past, so yeah, he knew what a rave was. But slowly, a thought started forming in his mind and he... grinned.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Lilli narrowing her eyes, giving him a suspicious look. She knew him well enough by now to know that he was plotting something and wasn't too sure she wanted to know what it was. .

"So... tell me angel," Atton began nonchalantly, casually looking down at the advertisement still in his hand, "when was the last time you had some fun?"


"Yeah, Jedi, fun," he said looking at her, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "You know...  laughs, a good time... that sort of thing."

"Atton, I... I'm not sure of what your idea of fun is. Does this have something to do with this... this rave?" Lilli asked petulantly, seemingly even more suspicious of him than before. Then abruptly letting out a small sigh, her head drooped and she said a bit ruefully,  "Anyway, I'm not sure this is the time for fun."

"Hey... hey," Atton said, moving towards her, reaching out with his hand to gently lift her chin and gaze into her eyes, caught off guard by her unexpected gloominess. Something in his chest gave a squeeze when he saw her sad like this. Cupping her face in the palm of his hand, he said, "We all need to have some fun in our lives. Otherwise, we have nothing to hold onto to and we might forget what we're fighting for."

He watched her breath catch in her throat. After visibly swallowing, she asked him in a soft voice, her eyes never leaving his, "And when did you become so wise, Atton Rand?"

Embarrassed, he dropped his hand and moved back a step. Attempting to recover his wits, he shrugged his shoulders, gave her a sly grin and said, "Yeah... well, Miss Lilliandra Jade, you know me..."

"Mmhmm," she answered, scrutinizing him a bit longer. "Alright then. Lets go and along the way you can tell me about this rave and all of the fun I'm going to have."

The scoundrel was immensely relieved that Lilli wasn't going to pursue the matter any further. He knew that as a Jedi, she could just rip anything out of his head if she had wanted to and the fact that she respected him and his privacy enough to play along only served to deepen his feelings for her.

I'm telling you, this won't end well, his voice of reason chimed in.

Oh shut up, will you.


"Yeah, sorry. I just... never mind," he said, rubbing his temples, willing the voice into silence. Damn it! Pretty soon she'll peek into my mind just to make sure I haven't gone completely insane.

He took her by the arm and started leading her through the maze of streets and alleyways towards the address on the advertisement. "Uh... Listen angel, a rave is basically a lot of beings crowded into a small space with pulsating lights, dancing and having a good time." Stopping to give her a leering grin, he slowly looked her up and down and said "And I know you can dance."

"Please... Don't remind me," she sputtered, a blush spreading across her cheeks. "And if thats the kind of dancing you're talking about, then you can forget about me going to this rave, flyboy."

"Sorry... can't help it... no...  not that kind of dancing," Atton managed to say in between gasps of laughter at the indignant look on her face.

"You're never going to let me live it down, are you?" Lilli asked resignedly, watching him reign his mirth back under control.

"Not a chance, angel."

"Fine," she huffed at him. "But... I will find a way of getting even with you."

"Yeah?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Can't wait."


They came to the warehouse where the rave was being held. Before going inside, Atton took Lilli aside and said, "There's one last thing I need to tell you about a rave. There's a lot of... hmm... exotic chemicals to be found here." At her questioning look he continued, saying, "Just be careful of anything someone offers you." He knew that she was trained in resisting poisons, but he didn't want her taking any chances. There were enough threats to her life as it were. Damn, I really am getting soft.

Lilli furrowed her brow in thought for a moment before understanding dawned on her. Smiling, she quickly gave his hand a squeeze and leaned up to kiss him on the cheek. "You don't have to worry about me, Atton. I've been around for a few years," she said. "But I do appreciate it, though."

"Oh yeah? How much do you appreciate it?" he asked, grinning at her lecherously as they started walking towards the door of the warehouse.

Cocking her head to the side, eyes glittering with mischief, she floored him by seductively pressing her body up against his and purring, "Someday... maybe very soon... you just may find out." And sauntered through the doorway without a backward glance.

With his mouth hanging open and blood furiously pounding, Atton couldn't form a coherent thought. Although he was secretly pleased that the Jedi wasn't simply falling into his bed, because somewhere in his heart he knew that he wanted much more than just a casual fling with her, he wasn't the type to stop until he got what he wanted.

Don't get ahead of yourself, he told himself in an effort to calm his raging body. She's just getting back at you for the dancing crack. Fervently hoping that he was wrong, he hurried after Lilli.


Atton stood just inside of the entranceway, his eyes scanning the crowded and dimly lit space for Lilli, irritated by the pulsating lights hanging from the ceiling that made it difficult for him to focus on any one thing. Finally, he saw her in the far corner, at the edge of the dance floor, being chatted up by some muscular, pretty-boy type. Damn it, he cursed, a frown twisting his mouth, unconsciously clenching his hands with jealousy. He should have realized that someone as beautiful as Lilli wouldn't be left alone for long.

Just as she had earlier in the alleyway, Lilli seemed to sense his presence. Her gaze flicked over to him and she gave another one of those heartbreaking smiles. Atton wasn't sure if he should be worried that she always appeared to know the moment he started focusing on her. Deciding to leave the thought for another day, he quickly pushed his way through the crowd, over to her side.

"Hey there angel," he drawled by way of greeting, staring daggers at the man in front of Lilli and moved to stand possessively close behind her. The scoundrel was sorely tempted to put his arm around her, but that thought was hastily tempered by the image of the Jedi flicking her wrist to hurl him into the wall for being presumptuous. Even though she had never shown the slightest hint of using the Force in retaliation, past experience had taught him that Jedi were apt to use the Force in a wide variety of situations.

"Atton," she said, turning to smile up at him, her eyes twinkling with some secret amusement. "I want you to meet Tonio. He's a model who's here on Nar Shaddaa to record a fashion holovid."

Atton barely managed a curt nod, all the while glaring menacingly at the pretty-boy, who was by now fidgeting and showing signs of becoming very uncomfortable with all of the hostility being directed towards him. Atton knew that he could be intimidating if he concentrated and at the moment he was most certainly trying.

Unable to take any more of Atton's animosity, the model stammered an excuse and backed away as rapidly as possible. Lilli turned around to face to Atton and unable to stop the corners of her mouth from twitching at his obvious jealously, said to him mock-scoldingly, "You didn't have to scare the poor guy that much, you know."

"What?" Atton asked, shrugging his shoulders innocently. "He looked like he was bothering you. Besides, I promised you a good time and pretty-boy over there," he nodded his chin contemptuously towards the retreating figure, "isn't part of the plan."

Lilli simply smiled knowingly at him. "It's going to get hot in here, especially after we start dancing. Why don't you go and store my cloak along with your jacket and I'll get us something to drink," she said, gracefully shrugging out of her heavy outer robe and holding it out to him, which left her clad in her short-sleeved tunic and leggings.

"What about your 'saber," he asked, not wanting to blatantly advertise her Jedi status, mindful of the bounty. Suddenly another thought occurred to Atton and looking at her warily he asked, "Hey, since when did Jedi start drinking?"

Lilli was busy tucking her lightsaber into a special loop sewn into the inside of her tunic and didn't answer immediately. "There," she said brightly. "No one can see it now." Giving Atton a mischievous smile, she said, "I never was considered a model Jedi. And I did spend almost a decade outside of the Order. I probably do quite a few things that the Masters wouldn't approve of."

"Oh really? Will I get to find out some more about these un-Jedi like things you do?" he asked, his eyes gleaming with possibilities.

"Is that all you think about?" she groused laughingly, turning towards the bar.

His mind filled with all sorts of lurid images, Atton answered, "With you? Well... not all the time."


Atton came back to Lilli waiting for him with a bottle of juma and two shot glasses. What is she trying to do to me, he groaned inwardly, his pulse racing. It was as if she was deliberately doing everything she could to keep him agitated.

"I never took you for the sadistic type, angel," he told her as they settled into a couple of seats in the lounge area. They planned on having a few drinks before hitting the dance floor. Atton was perfectly happy with this, since he felt an ever increasing need to get drunk in order to deal with Lilli's unusual behavior.  

"What are you talking about?" she asked, looking at him from under her lashes, all wide-eyed innocence.

"Oh, don't give me that," he retorted. "You know that I'm good at reading people, particularly you, Jedi and I'm a master at scheming. There's something going on in that pretty little head of yours. I just need some time to figure it out."

"Will you relax, Atton," Lilli said soothingly, filling their glasses with the juma. "There's nothing 'going on'. I simply decided you were right in that I needed some fun." Raising her glass in a toast and looking straight into his eyes she said, "Here's to finding something to hold onto."

Atton felt his mouth go dry. Right then and there, he knew, without a doubt, that he was falling in love with the Jedi. Probably had been since the moment he first saw her on Peragus.  He tossed back his drink and wondered what in the hell he had gotten himself into. Does it matter, though? Shaking his head lightly, he reflected that this wasn't the time, nor place and filed the thought away for another day. He was mildly surprised at the amount of 'filed for another day' thoughts he had collected since joining up with the Exile.

Seemingly oblivious to his internal musings - Although with her, who knows? -  Lilli poured them another round and said, "You seem to know a lot about these raves."

"Yeah, well, you know I spent some time here before. I got to know my way around," he answered. Noticing that she was looking at him curiously, he asked, "What are you giving me that look for?"

Giving a casual wave of her hand to indicate their surroundings, Lilli replied, "I didn't think of you as being the dancing kind of person. I thought of you as more of a 'watching pretty Twi'leks dance in cantinas' kind of man."

Atton gave her a pained expression and said half-seriously, "I'm not sure if I should be offended or not." Pouring them another shot he gave her a wicked grin and said, "A man needs skills to be successful with the ladies."

Giving him a long look, Lilli burst out laughing and after a moment he joined in. Suddenly, the scoundrel jumped to his feet and held out his hand to her, rakishly saying, "Come on angel, it's time I showed you just one of my many skills."


The dance floor was fairly crowded as Atton took a moment to get in tune with the beat of the music. His body gracefully slid into a series of complicated dance moves and he grinned, pleased that he hadn't lost his touch. He was, in fact, a very good dancer and he planned on flaunting his best to Lilli. It didn't take him long, though, to realize that he had completely forgotten about his own plan and was instead utterly captivated by her.

With her eyes closed and arms flung up into the air, Lilli was using the Force to anticipate and match his movements, sinuously moving and swaying in such a way so as to hold herself mere inches away from him. Hell, her dancing for that slimy Hutt was nothing compared to this, Atton thought to himself, luxuriating in her nearness, the heat from her body enveloping and caressing him. He felt an irresistible need to touch her and on an impulse caught hold of her hand and twirled her away from him, watching as she laughed with delight.

Using an intricate two-handed move he spun her back to him, throwing one arm around her waist and the other behind her back to dip her low to the ground. They stayed like that for a moment, Lilli's mouth curving into an amused smile at his showiness. Thrilled at the opportunity to be holding her and unwilling to let go, Atton slowly raised her up, wrapping her in his arms while tucking her head under his chin. He felt her return his embrace, albeit hesitantly at first, and let out a small sigh of contentment. Tilting her back slightly so that he could drink her in, he watched her languidly raise her eyes to his and what he saw in them made his heart skip a beat, leaving him to feel as if time had suddenly stood still.

Lilli's eyes were sparkling, momentarily free from worry and doubt. Atton's gaze traveled across the planes of her face and for the first time he saw her genuinely at ease. He imagined that this is what she must have looked like as a girl, before Revan, the Mandalorian Wars and her exile had all taken their toll. Keeping one arm firmly around her waist, he brought his other arm up and tenderly brushed the back of his hand across the curve of her cheek, down the side of her face and followed the line of her jaw to delicately trace her lips with his thumb, watching as she closed her eyes and shivered with pleasure. Unable to resist her any longer, Atton moved his hand to cup the nape of her neck and brought his lips down to gently capture hers. For the briefest of moments, Lilli stiffened in surprise before snaking her arms around his neck, coiling up against him and giving herself over fully to the kiss.

Never in his wildest dreams could have he imagined that a single kiss could be so electrifying, sending sparks of pure energy running through every nerve in his body. Atton's hands were now roaming up and down Lilli's back, desperate and demanding, crushing her to him, while she tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling on his head to deepen the kiss. They continued on in this way, wholly lost in each other, until Atton began seeing stars from lack of air. He reluctantly ended the kiss, gasping lightly, dizzy and weak-kneed from the need to breathe and the phenomenal woman in his arms. He glanced at Lilli and saw her mirroring his dazed look as she brought her fingertips up to touch her mouth in wonder.

"That was-" she began, still a bit breathless.

"-incredible," he finished for her, leaning in to give her a feather-light kiss on the tip of her nose.

Keeping his arm around Lilli, Atton moved back towards the lounge area and dropped himself into a seat, pulling her down into his lap where he gathered her close once again. He knew that soon enough reality would come intruding in and he wanted to savor her for a while longer. Lilli wiggled as if moving to get up, but Atton ignored her attempts and after a brief struggle she gave a resigned sigh, snuggled into his embrace and said teasingly, "You'll have to let me get up at some point, flyboy."

"Yeah, but not yet, angel. I finally found something I want to hold onto,"  he replied huskily.
LSFExile and Atton fluffiness. Atton convinces the Exile to take some time to have fun.

This fic was inspired by Aimo's fanart drawing Dancing Queen, which is one of my favorites. If you have never taken a look at her work, I would strongly urge you to do so here on DA. She is absolutely phenomenal.


I don't own KotOR: TSL or the characters, that honor belongs to LucasArts and Obsidion. Although I very much wish I owned Atton ;) I can say that I partially own my Exile Lilli.
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How to take “Ultramarines” from a 3 star movie to 5 stars, AKA the Ultramarines drinking game.

Note: Due to the high number of shots described in this game I suggest maybe just sipping a beer to each of this or have an array of things to eat and drink (non-alcoholic) for each “shot”.

1. Every time someone screams, take a shot.

2. Every time someone says “Space Marines” take a shot.

3. Every time they talk about chaos take a shot.

4. Every time you see or hear “Know No Fear” take a shot.

5. Every time the standard lights with that funky fire, take a shot.

6. Every time death is referenced take a shot.

7. Every time the Emprah is referenced take a shot.

8. Every time Python (the coolest character in the movie) is given some stupid remark by someone else take a shot.
I've wanted to do one of these for some time. Last night I re-watched it with my sister and we whipped this up. We politely left out taking shots for the awful cgi as apparently some people though it was awesome.

I don't hate UM movie...I just think it could have been better and even though I don't drink I had to make this.
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'None Shall Pass'</u>

Directly in their path

His blade raised high

Strong and unyielding he stands

A pillar of strength

Illuminated by the force

Flowing through his every muscle

As they approach he firmly says

'None shall pass'

They keep coming

One after the next

Thousands of warriors

Ever ready to send him to his fate

And yet he holds fast

'None shall pass'

Time fades into eternity

Any moment could be his last

But this right here

This was who he was

Standing in the corridor of his destiny

Everything leading up to this

Never faltering, never wavering

'None shall pass'

The end or the beginning

It makes no difference to him

He is both here and nowhere

The energy passing through him

It has become him

Fully aware and yet distant

He knows only his purpose

'None shall pass'

As his burning light fades away

He does not fail

As his breath escapes his lips

Forever burning in his lungs

A single thought takes him away

Becoming one with the force

He burns the words like fire into his memory

'None shall pass'
I wrote this as a result of not being able to sleep. I picked up 'traitor' and was reading through it, and remembered how much I liked the way the author wrote it. It's almost poetic in a sense, his words were often almost lyrical. Anyways, I loved Ganner Rhysode's last stand *snuffle* it's probably one of the only deaths I though was worthy of who they killed off in the NJO. In any case, enough rambling on my part and lets get to the poem! - oh yeah, and I don't own any star wars characters unfortunately!
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This story was on the drawing boards for a long time. I wanted to story a story in which Coruscant was subjected to a 9/11-style attack by terrorists similar to Al-Qaeda or the Taliban.

I apologize if some people find this story offensive.

Star Wars does not belong to me, it belongs to Lucasart/Disney.
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A Gif I made out of a video I'm working on
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1 - Odo - True Life (Lights of Euphoria, VNV Nation Remix)

My security office is the tidiest place on the entire station. No offense to the Starfleet officers in OPS, but sometimes, the sense for order gets lost up there. I know how to keep myself busy without causing a mess. Even on quiet days, as rare as they are. Sometimes, I just sit here and watch the promenade through my door. Study people, analyze them, memorize certain ways of moving or body language. It can be extremly helpful in criminal investigations to know such routines. Humanoids are not all alike; different species give away lies and half truths differently. Bolians never really blush, for example, while it only takes a strategically placed comment about a suspected white lie to make a Kobheerian blush pink and confess crimes he only heard about.

There is only one thing all humanoids have in common. They all remind me that I am not like them. That all I can do is immitate them, act like them, talk like them, pretend to be them. But in the end, I will always be the fraud, and they will always live the true life.

2 - Benjamin Sisko - Endless Skies (VNV Nation)

How many shades of white are there?

I don't know. Everything around me is white. And wherever I turn my head, it is different, not exactly the same, and I'm unable to say what sets it apart from another white. If it is brighter, smoother, whiter-than-white.

I have lost all sense of time. I just keep staring into the white, trying to understand it. I'm not sure why. But it doesn't matter. For the first time in my life, I really am. I just am. And I know, somewhen it will all make perfect sense to me. The white, the why, my own existance. I have all the time in the world to figure it out. Time is all I have, and time doesn't even matter. For now.

3 - Kira Nerys/Dukat - Little Red Riding Hood (Ultima Thule)

If I have to go through just one more briefing with this self-absorbed madman, I'll freak. I know I'll freak. May the station go up in flames, may the wrath of the Prophets come over me, I won't care. I'll just kick his ugly scaly face and I won't stop before it lost really any resemblance to the statue I'm sure he set for himself on Cardassia Prime.

The way he looks at me. The way he talks to me. The way he acts like we were friends. He knows damn well that we will never be friends. He thinks because I like Ziyal, and Ziyal likes him, I automatically like him, too. That's such a twisted logic. I have always hated him and I always will. He can act like he deeply cares about the love of the Bajoran people all he wants. I know the real him. When he smiles his fake smile at me, the disguise can't hide the teeth of a predator.

4 - Damar - Destillat (Das Ich)

I was so proud when my firstborn joined the military. A true son of Cardassia; willing to live and to die for his world. Cardassia, a world worth living in and a world worth dying for. Proud, free, strong, respected, with a long history and a rich culture. Cardassia never begged. Cardassia never asked. Cardassia took.

This was Cardassia.

This was yesterday.

I was so proud when Cardassia signed the alliance contract with the Dominion. A true act of foresight and military genius. While the entire quadrant shivered in fear of the unknown, Cardassia joined forces with the unknown; made fear their ally. No-one considered there would be a price to pay. Even less that this price would be our freedom and our pride; the very things we seeked to protect. Cardassia was taken.

This is Cardassia.

This is today.

But I know there is a better world on the bottom of this bottle.

5 Weyoun - Touched by Jesus (Killing Miranda)

I do not understand them, these alpha quadrant inhabitants. I really don't, but I'm good at acting like I do. I smile and nod and tell them what they want to hear. But in the end, they are merely insects. Interesting in their own way, but so undefined in their purpose. They tell me - whenever they get the chance, actually - that my faith is a farce; that my gods are not truly divine.
But I believe it is nothing but envy. They pray and sacrifice and worship and hope, and their gods never answer. They analyze and philosophize and wonder what their purpose is, and they envy me because I do have this answer; because my gods told me exactly why I was created, the way I am. Every species I made contact with worshipped some higher power, yet none of them has ever had any contact with it. They all ask „Why am I? Who created me?" in their prayers and religious books. I have my answer. All they have is envy.

And sometimes, I pity them a bit.

6 - Julian Bashir/Jadzia Dax - Pretty in Casket (Blitzkid)

As a doctor, I should be able to deal better with death than most others. But that is what 'most others' think. Oh yes, I know. You've heard that a million times. A doctor saying 'I know, I should be able to deal with it if I lose a patient, but this is different'. To tell the truth, it always is. It's nothing but an urban legend that you deal better with death just because you took medical classes.

It's such a paradox. She lived seven lifetimes. And now it's me feeling like I lost her seven times.

7 - Thot Gor - From Hell They Came (Misfits)

They don't understand. Not now. Not later. They don't need to. They are just tools.

There is a storm coming. They don't know who they have summoned. It doesn't matter.

It all is just part of a bigger picture, and those trying to figure it out are blind.

The Confederacy is the eye of the storm, the grey between the black and white.

8 - Quark - Crying on a Saturday Night (Michale Graves)

„Quark, can you change the decorations of the bar - NOW? You know the celebrations of the Bajoran Gratitude Festival are beginning in a few hours, you should have been done with that yesterday!"

„No, no, no, you got it all wrong! The banner is upside down, and you can't serve Tulaberry Wine in THESE glasses! Ambassador Troi would be deeply insulted by such obvious mistakes!"

„If you don't want a fight to break out within the first ten minutes of the ceremony, I suggest you better get REAL Bloodwine. The quality of your replicated... liquid... is a dishonor!"

„Brother? Why aren't you at the reception? I thought you, umm, you were doing the catering?"

„I didn't feel like going."

„But... brother... Captain Sisko asked you to come! It's an important event!"

„Important to whom?"

„Everyone! It's a celebration of the many cultures on Deep Space Nine!"

„No, Rom. Only the popular cultures."

„What do you mean, brother?"

„Nothing, Rom. Go, have fun. Just... leave me alone, will you?"

9 - Brunt - People hate me (Murderdolls)

People tend to take it very personal when I show up. They don't realize that it is a job I have to do. Though, yes, I admit, I love my job. I really do. I enjoy the feeling I have after a hard day's work; the knowledge I have done something of importance; to uphold the culture, traditions and most of all economy of my world.. And yes, I do like to see fear and envy in the eyes of those I liquidate. Pesky creatures. They always underestimate the FCA. But nothing escapes me, nothing. In the end, I win. Winning comes with the job, too. It doesn't matter if people like me. Shall they hate me, if they only fear me.  I like the power that comes with the job.

It makes me feel like god.

10 - Damar - Sentinel (VNV Nation)

The Vorta was in some meeting with the female shapeshifter and those damn Breen when I arrived in the command center. As usual, I was not informed about their briefing, and since they didn't want or need me there, I took the chance to catch some air on the streets.

The sky was deep red, dry heat emerging from the asphalt of the streets. But somehow, the capital seemed different to me that day. It was the people. Cardassians, wherever I turned my eyes. And they were looking down to the ground. All of them. Broken pride, shattered dreams of glory, unfulfilled promises of greatness.

I slowly looked up, to where the sun reflected blindingly in the copper spikes on the central command building's roof. That was how Cardassia should be. Standing strong, proud, free, only challenged by the stars self. And that was the moment when a part of me decided to blow up the damn cloning facility. To set a sign, pave the road back home to my Cardassia, so one day, they would all be able to raise their heads with pride again.

Entry for the Music Meme contest in the TrekLit group. Now withdrawn because the group openly supports TOS violations.

Naturally, my theme was "DS9".

Odo - True Life (Lights of Euphoria, VNV Nation Remix)

Benjamin Sisko - Endless Skies (VNV Nation)

Kira Nerys/Dukat - Little Red Riding Hood (Ultima Thule)

Damar - Destillat (Das Ich)
(Don't bother translating, it's quite... metaphoric. Basically, it's about alcohol addiction.)

Weyoun - Touched by Jesus (Killing Miranda)
(Couldn't find a video link, sorry.)

Julian Bashir/Jadzia Dax - Pretty in Casket (Blitzkid)

Thot Gor - From Hell They Came (Misfits)

Quark - Crying on a Saturday Night (Michale Graves)

Brunt - People hate me (Murderdolls)

Damar - Sentinel (VNV Nation)
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Jagged Fel rushed to unstrap himself from his sim seat. He had just taken out the last Rogue and wanted to see who it was. It wasn't Rogue Lead, Darklghter was the second to last Rogue to get killed. Darklighter flew with an obvious style; decades of experience coupled with a hard grace. No, the last Rogue seemed fairly inexperienced. Whoever he was, he flew with an astounding amount of raw talent.  What's more, he learned quickly and could make his X-wing dance. With a little more experience, he could even shoot me down. That Rogue had won Jagged's respect from flying alone, which was a difficult thing to do. No one else had managed it.

Climbing out of his sim, Jagged scanned the area for the distinctive orange flight suits. There was one leaning against the wall by the exit, a lanky blond woman who appeared to be waiting for someone. She appeared to have been out of the sim for a while, her hair no longer damp with sweat. She glanced over towards him and with a wry smile, gave him a mock salute. It wasn't a hostile gesture, but Jagged's gut reaction to it was offense. She, along with the rest of the Rogues he'd seen, carried themselves casually.  Humans are baffling. How can one be casual in the middle of war? Discipline was necessary to win any sort of battle, and outside the cockpit, the Rogues appeared to have none. Of course, inside the cockpit the Rogues could give even his elite Spike squadron a solid fight. He simply didn't understand how one could turn discipline on and off like that.

The hatch to one of the X-wing sims opened up, and the pilot clambered out and dropped to the floor. This must be him – oh, her. The pilot looked at him and gave him a quick nod before she turned to what he presumed was her wingmate, pulling her helmet off in the process. Jagged had never been more glad that his helmet covered his entire face. It hid his shock, though he thought nothing would hide his suddenly loud heartbeat. She was the most beautiful person he had ever seen, and that was with her long brown hair messed up from her helmet. Wisps of hair were plastered to her face with sweat, and she had what looked like a smear of grease across her cheek. A small button nose sate below shining golden-brown eyes. She was tiny, and her flightsuit did a good job of hiding her form, but Jagged had plenty of imagination. He was, after all, human too. He vaguely wondered if this was what a crush was. He had heard of them through his parents, but never understood until now.

Jagged couldn't see her nametag the way she was facing, but he didn't need to as her wingmate began talking. “Hey Solo, you're buying!” He didn't think it was possible, but Jagged's jaw dropped even further. Jaina Solo! That explained a lot, though it was still unexpected. It explained her confident flying, and Jagged had no doubt that it would extend to everything from am A-wing to a Z-95. Without knowing who she was, she had won his complete respect. Now her beauty caused Jagged's chest to tighten and breath to quicken. I have a crush on the daughter of Han Solo. This will go over well with Father.

Jaina groaned. “Dammit, Anni!”

Anni clapped Jaina on the shoulder and steered her out the exit. “You know the rules. Last one alive buys.”

“But I always buy!”

“Then die faster.”  Anni's laughter was the last thing Jagged heard as the exit slid shut behind them.

He was left to contemplate this new development in silence. He couldn't still his heartbeat, and his stomach was knotted. For the first time, Jagged Fel had no control over his emotions, and more frightening still, he didn't want any.
Short fluffy little Jaina Solo/Jagged Fel fanfic.
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I ran through the decompressing corridors, through cold, and fire, I shouldered my way through those doors that would allow it, and used the Force to rip those that would not, from their runners. She can't be gone, she can't be. She's mandokarla, she's proven that time and again. Tough, atin, resourceful, if anyone can make it through, it's her. I berate myself for thinking the worst, even though the logical part of my brain is telling me it's right to prepare. Logic be damned. Either we both leave alive, or neither of us do. Another explosion rocks the ship, not long now. Something strange was happening, maybe it was the lack of oxygen I was getting into my bucket, or maybe the gravity generator had ramped up with the last explosion, but it felt like I was running through syrup, every step getting harder. I rip a compartment door free, and there she is, the O2 level on her bottle was bottoming. I steadied myself in the Force, took half a breath in, then held on, ripping my bottle free from it's holder. I attached the lines quickly, and lifted her onto my shoulders, armour crashing together. Come on, cyar'ika, breathe! I thought, only slightly reassured by the somewhat steadier rise and fall of her chest. She'd kill me if she found out i'd come back for her, and she'd probably bring me back, to do it again, for what I did with the air.

I then did something I wasn't expecing. I ran. Back the way I came, leaping into the elevator shaft, using my jetpack to stop at the hangar level. My head was pounding, my vision darkening, but that didn't matter. I ran across the empty bay, hitting the startup sequence on my remote link to the Galaar. I sprinted up the ramp, sealing it behind me, and breathed. I laid her down in one of the spare quarters, and waited for her to come to, flying out the bay, and watching the doomed ship implode on the rearview vid monitor.
I set the ship on auto, and return to her bedside, holding her hand, until she awoke.
Corey brings another mando home.
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Uneasiness followed close in her wake as the young girl made her way through the dark winding halls of her lavish Corellian home. No one seemed to be home but Syal made each footfall softer than the pervious. The house was Dark, too dark for that time of day. She knew that her parents and elder sister would not be back home for at least another 30 standard minutes but by now her Grandfather would certainly have turned on the synthetic lights to aid in the construction of the Old Republic Building models he’d taken such a fondness to building. The Vos-Beck household was never empty. Not anymore… Syal’s mother was the famous Jedi Healer Leena Vos and worked almost round the clock at Coronet’s largest Medical Center, having decided years earlier that she would take a leave of absence from the Jedi to rebuild the weak threads of her marriage to the skilled smuggler and pilot, Syal’s father, Doran Beck. Her father’s business kept him out at strange hours all the time so Syal wasn’t counting on seeing him anytime soon and her older sister Asori was scheduled to be out catching up with friends until late.
But the house shouldn’t have been empty. Syal’s Grandfather on her mother’s side, the great Jedi Master Quinlan Vos, had taken up residence within the Vos-Beck household after the death of his wife, Khaleen, six years earlier. At first the family was surprised by the Master’s decision because Syal’s Papa, had been nothing if always independent but of course the family had welcomed him with open arms. It was only after Quinlan stopped leaving the house and started to avoid the members of his family did the Vos-Beck’s start to worry. He had never been a very forthcoming man but now he would sit for hours on end and stare out into Coronet’s skyline, his eyes unfocused and unmoving other than the rise and fall of his chest and the slow movement of his thumb over a necklace that his wife used to wear. It was a heartbreaking sight. A tearful Syal had gone to her mother for explanation at 16 to which Leena Vos had stroked the girl’s while hugging her youngest daughter and exclaimed, “It’s just age my Heart, it will happen to us all. Be thankful he had the fulfilling life he did. All we can do is just be with him now.” Her throat still grew tight when she thought about that conversation with her mother. At the time Syal could just not understand why the most skilled Healer in the Universe could not just wave her hand and fix her beloved Papa.
So now Quinlan Vos stayed home either sitting at that window with Khaleen’s necklace or meticulously building model’s from a world long forgotten by time.
But he wasn’t o far gone that he would have forgotten to turn the lights on. Syal had to fight the urge to turn the lights on herself even though it was easy enough to move though the house without them, she had lived in this house for her entire life up until a few scattered years here and there. It was home. She could have walked it blindfolded without touching a single wall but something told her not to make her presence known. It was just a feeling she had growing in the pit of her stomach, that things where not right. So instead she walked as silently as she could down the hallway and toward her Grandfather’s room.
The house might have been dark but it wasn’t silent. As Syal neared her Papa’s room she was almost surprised to hear noise coming from it, he was usually so quiet. Her heart quicken in pace and her left foot was caught mid air before landing on the next floorboard. Korto, Syal’s twin brother, was there. Why was Korto there? He was supposed to be on Coruscant at he Jedi Temple training. He was scheduled to be Knighted soon.  The entire family was going to Coruscant in the next week to watch the ceremony. Had he been able to come home for a little vacation before being a legidamate Jedi Knight? Her heart did a little summersault at the prospect. The two had grown apart since Syal had dropped out of the academy to pursue her dream of flying for Rogue Squadron, something that had just recently come to fruition. Korto viewed her decision to leave the academy as a failure on her part and couldn’t comprehend why his twin sister had gone through so much trouble to shut the force out. But then again he hadn’t been the one to wake up screaming and drenched in sweat from nightmares of people dying all over the galaxy as the Yuuzhan Vong War had raged. Where Korto had inherited the Kiffar’s ability of psychometry, to see past events by touching inanimate objects, Syal’s psychometry had manifested in a very rare form for Kiffars. Instead she was intensely empathic and could see through another’s eyes if a person around her was experiencing extreme emotion or stress, as her brother was now. With a sudden thud Syal’s suspended foot landed on the floorboard and her hands shot to her head as she was suddenly seeing her Grandfather’s room through her twin’s eyes.
As it always was with these visions it felt like Syal had fallen asleep on her feet but she could feel everything that Korto was feeling. She couldn’t hear his thoughts but she could read his emotions loud and clear. Korto was the strangest mix was panic, calmness, and a sense of…euphoria. In one hand the antique lightsaber that belonged to their Grandfather, while the other one ran it’s hand over a smooth brown fabric with what looked to be burn marks... and cooked flesh. The part of her mind still connected with her body screamed in horror as her vision extended to the dark form of her Grandfather’s body, laying face down on the floor, a lightsaber gash running from the top of his left should and into his gut.
The power of her own emotions threw Syal violently back into her own body. Taking just a second for her feet to respond to her brain Syal scrambled forward, lunging herself that last few feet between her and the door.

“Korto!” She breathed in shock as her own eyes beheld the terrifying sight.
The first installment of a short short story I'm writing about my Roleplaying Character Syal Vos-Beck the Granddaughter of Quinlan Vos. It deals with events in her past that happened before the Destiny of Time timeline takes place.

For more on Desinty of Time..... [link]
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