- Location
- USA
May The Invisible Hand Be With You - (Star Wars CK2-Style Quest)
- Thread starter Dr. Snark
- Start date
- Sci-Fi
-
- Tags
- star wars canon what canon tsundere dice ck2 quest actions have consequences all the credits all work and no play makes ciaran a dull girl best sister capitalism ho! despairing qm teetotaller society member gotta catch 'em all insanity looting off the rails sage dice approaching spicy sheev tsundere asajj
Eh, I can accept that my negaverse counterpart is either a jerk or doesn't do their research.
Killerflood
Corporal Cannonfodder
- Location
- Saṃsāra
I mean ... pretty much? The entire build up of this quest has been to doom Palpatine and the big red button is supposed to be that doom coming a calling. It'll be the climax that we've all worked up to. There will probably be a few epilogues after the huge fight but there won't be any quarterly plan style turns. That's my guess.
Dr. Snark
Exactly As Planned...Probably
- Location
- Right where I want to be
- Pronouns
- He/His/Him
Can confirm. I know I've gone back and forth on that before but the fact of the matter is that there's not any real threat bigger than Palpatine...unless I pulled one directly out of my ass. And you guys deserve a better sendoff than that.
I won't discount the possibility of some kind of sequel but the Quest in its current form will end with the battle with Palpatine.
nkd1325
KNIGHT OF ORANGE
- Location
- AT HIS MAJESTY'S SIDE
Yeah pretty much the only big threat left once Palpatine goes down is the Yuuzhan Vong and they aren't showing up for a couple of decades.
- Location
- america
a sequel about ciarans kid?(if she has a kid, proby gonna be from a testtube)
- Location
- Leeds
I also always wanted to own the galaxy: Play as one of Ciarans relatives attempting to overthrow the galaxies shadow ruler.
(All intrigue postponed on Wookie life day by command of Silas)
Mmm I'm kinda unhappy with an End to Savagery pt. 2.
Ciaran deliberately put herself into a position where she had to 1v1 a near equal or superior opponent with no backup and no traps. Ciaran strikes me as the type of person to always stack the deck in her favor, so I was expecting the chase to lead to Assajj for a 2v1 or at least through traps like mines that wouldn't go off for her in areas that wouldn't go off on civilians (like in the middle of a force jump two stories up) with her not knowing where exactly on her escape route the mines were to mess with force precognition.
Ciaran deliberately put herself into a position where she had to 1v1 a near equal or superior opponent with no backup and no traps. Ciaran strikes me as the type of person to always stack the deck in her favor, so I was expecting the chase to lead to Assajj for a 2v1 or at least through traps like mines that wouldn't go off for her in areas that wouldn't go off on civilians (like in the middle of a force jump two stories up) with her not knowing where exactly on her escape route the mines were to mess with force precognition.
- Location
- Sweden
Yeah, we have the Foundry completely cleared of enemy forces.
- Location
- Canada
I don't think Cirian was expecting how empowered Savage was when planing this; I think she thought she was the superior opponent. Though I think there's an argument that the assumption was maybe Cirian overestimating herself a little.
Which now that I think on it is kinda funny because a lot of people in this thread (me included) were probably overestimating her skills going into this as well.
Dr. Snark
Exactly As Planned...Probably
- Location
- Right where I want to be
- Pronouns
- He/His/Him
Right, going to acknowledge things right now.
Still keeping quiet on this one. Canon, +10.
Allow me to express the likelihood of that happening in the most clear way possible:
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA
Er...kind of? If it weren't for Ciaran's Force vision, let's just say that would have actually ended badly for her even if she did have the high ground.
This is so good. +10.
It is rather uncharacteristic of her to go into a (relatively) straight-up fight like that, isn't it?
Still keeping quiet on this one. Canon, +10.
Allow me to express the likelihood of that happening in the most clear way possible:
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA
Er...kind of? If it weren't for Ciaran's Force vision, let's just say that would have actually ended badly for her even if she did have the high ground.
This is so good. +10.
It is rather uncharacteristic of her to go into a (relatively) straight-up fight like that, isn't it?
And by the time they get here, we'll have Naboo'd the entire Unknown Regions, meaning they won't have anything to threaten us with.
- Location
- Germany
- Pronouns
- He/Him
"You knew HOW LONG? And are telling us NOW? We could have stopped all these deaths if you'd informed us earlier!!!"
... might get a minor circumstance malus on the diplomacy attempt.
joe6168
Just a humble lurker
- Location
- Michigan, The lower left glove
And then we explain that that reaction is exactly why we didn't tell them. The case against Palpatine has to be iron clad and totally airtight before we can risk moving openly against him, no going off half cocked (like they did in canon). If they can't understand and accept that then they have no business being involved in galactic affairs at any level at all.
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- Location
- Germany
- Pronouns
- He/Him
But then it's too late - they'd already know.
If that's the case, how soon can we use it to start building our robot army to destroy Palpy? Because I recall in the briefings that if we control it soon enough, we will have the power to go head to head with Palpy and possibly win just by it and our various assets alone. And now we have it in our grasp, with no one else (presumably) knowing about it, so I think we might be fast approaching the end game.
Crafter of War
The Dorf
- Location
- Bend
...I highly doubt that, since before we had the foundry, our chances of success was a meager 5%.
- Location
- New York
AU Omake time:
Hearthworlds
956 ARR (44 BBY)
...The end of the Stark Hyperspace War was greeted with rejoicing in much of the galaxy, albeit with rather less in the Outer Rim, especially among those who held little love for the Trade Federation and the Republic. Yet the war had been merely the most prominent surface expression of a year of instability such as the Republic had not experienced for decades - or, others would say at the time, of a year when the Republic finally put an end to such instability. Such optimism would later be proven to be, alas, utterly misguided.
On Bandomeer, Galidraan, Emanai, Kruxx, and Coruscant itself, as well as many other worlds, long-running feuds exploded into violence, and resistance to the Republic, Trade Federation, and Jedi Order was put down, often at substantial cost. Echoes of the chaos filled the Holonet, and the galaxy quaked in fear in a fashion that would be made quaint by the events of the following decades.
And through the Force and sheer coincidence both, this panic brought forth strange turns of events on its own. Among the worlds suffering its effects was the Mid-Rim agricultural world of Stewjon, whose main city Colbste suffered a night of rioting due to some misleading news reports about events on Coruscant. In the aftermath, the city council of Colbste gathered to discuss recriminations and reconstruction. It would be by all accounts an ordinary period of rebuilding on a planet with little galactic significance, if not for one thing - that among the council members was one Enn-Iat Kenobi, whose son Obi-Wan was thirteen years old at the time....
Colbste City, Stewjon
"And don't forget to smile," Obi-Wan's father said, adjusting the boy's collar.
Obi-Wan nodded. He'd heard the spiel plenty of times before, and had to suppress a flash of irritation at hearing it again, but he knew it was useful to go over the plan, especially before a negotiation as important as this one.
"So... Obi-Wan, are you sure about this? Lucky charm or no, you don't have to come along if you don't want to."
"I'm sure," Obi-Wan firmly said. "Besides, it's Bwomne's. Hardly the most dangerous place you've taken me to."
Enn-Iat Kenobi sighed in the way he sometimes did, the sigh of an adult convinced he was faced with a child's innocence. "If only...."
Father and son were walking the entry corridors towards the doors of Colbste's most exclusive dining establishment, which the Hutt representatives they were meeting would consider barely adequate. In terms of the quality of food on offer, Obi-Wan ruefully considered, they would be completely correct. Bwomne had spent his vast profits on architectural embellishments, columns of white and brown stone standing between cold metal hallways and wooden doors in an impressive arrangement, and on the attire of the wait staff and droids - but as far as Obi-Wan was concerned, the actual menu was worse than his own cooking, which was an impressive achievement.
But he had to be here. It was necessary, to be in as many places as possible when important decisions were made. That was something his father had drilled into him enough times. And with his luck, it was very likely that his being here would help with the negotiation.
Obi-Wan could feel the room they were heading towards. It was a bit of a morass, a sinkhole of utter self-centered sadism. Obi-Wan knew his father well, and though Enn-Iat Kenobi was hardly the most honest politician (itself a low bar), he was ultimately motivated among other things by a genuine desire to help people, if only the ones living in his district. Other people, Obi-Wan had felt a raw shield of indifference about. But this was something worse than indifference. These seemed like the sort of thugs that had tried breaking into their apartment two years ago, except that those thugs would never have been allowed into Bwomne's.
There was danger here, certainly; his father had not been wrong about that. Nonetheless, it was the sort of danger that probably wouldn't involve shooting.
"Welcome, welcome," the droid waiter said as it came up, Obi-Wan not sure if it was repeating itself out of politeness or error, and then they were meeting the emissaries. A human woman and a twi'lek man, both officially representing the entirely legitimate Jaub Holdings. At least, that's what anyone would assume without looking too deep into who owned Jaub or where its money came from, and Jaub had enough credits to ensure no one looked too closely at that. Obi-Wan could feel their dishonesty - they weren't even hiding it.
For his part, he smiled and shook hands, and listened. He also subtly pushed his luck, trying to put the emissaries in a better mood.
It wasn't enough.
The twi'lek talked in hushed, ominous tones, whereas the human was shrill and deliberately insufferable, and neither were intent on negotiating. "I suspect it may be preferable to raise the prices, then," the former eventually said regarding the charges, which were already higher than what the Trade Federation would have charged - legitimately.
And Obi-Wan felt a very, very grim feeling in the pit of his stomach as his father began to get up to leave. Bwomne's was safe, certainly; even these enforcers wouldn't stoop to violence within its boundaries.
But outside it -
And as he realized that, Obi-Wan drew on his luck as much as he could, pushing it out onto both the emissaries' minds and his father's, trying to calm them down. To push things too strongly was to risk getting noticed - Brenn had done so, once, though fortunately he'd not known it was Obi-Wan's fault and started talking nonsense about a ghost possessing him and Jedi and Hutt technology and all sorts of nonsense.
(Well, the Hutts were provably real, and the Jedi were too, if likely less perfect than in on the Holonet, and it wasn't as if anyone knew about ghosts. So it wasn't as if Brenn was being stupid, but no one would believe him anyway.)
Obi-Wan didn't like the envoys, not at all. But if this meeting broke up, it wouldn't be only they who suffered, not even only his family, but all the innocents caught up in the crossfire; and no matter that Obi-Wan had learned young about the shades of gray that defined the galaxy, he couldn't just let that happen without trying anything to stop it.
"Stewjon does not have the money you're discussing now," he said, "but it will. Could we, please, not be too hasty?"
It was a dismal deal in the end, of course. Obi-Wan knew it would have to be. But by the same token, it bought them time; and time, as he explained to his father afterward, did not favor the Hutts.
"Threatening to call it in... that could cut the repayment period short, certainly." Enn-Iat frowned. "But it could also start a war."
"It could start a war," Obi-Wan said, still not sure if he'd done the right thing. "But not today."
...The end of the Stark Hyperspace War was greeted with rejoicing in much of the galaxy, albeit with rather less in the Outer Rim, especially among those who held little love for the Trade Federation and the Republic. Yet the war had been merely the most prominent surface expression of a year of instability such as the Republic had not experienced for decades - or, others would say at the time, of a year when the Republic finally put an end to such instability. Such optimism would later be proven to be, alas, utterly misguided.
On Bandomeer, Galidraan, Emanai, Kruxx, and Coruscant itself, as well as many other worlds, long-running feuds exploded into violence, and resistance to the Republic, Trade Federation, and Jedi Order was put down, often at substantial cost. Echoes of the chaos filled the Holonet, and the galaxy quaked in fear in a fashion that would be made quaint by the events of the following decades.
And through the Force and sheer coincidence both, this panic brought forth strange turns of events on its own. Among the worlds suffering its effects was the Mid-Rim agricultural world of Stewjon, whose main city Colbste suffered a night of rioting due to some misleading news reports about events on Coruscant. In the aftermath, the city council of Colbste gathered to discuss recriminations and reconstruction. It would be by all accounts an ordinary period of rebuilding on a planet with little galactic significance, if not for one thing - that among the council members was one Enn-Iat Kenobi, whose son Obi-Wan was thirteen years old at the time....
Colbste City, Stewjon
"And don't forget to smile," Obi-Wan's father said, adjusting the boy's collar.
Obi-Wan nodded. He'd heard the spiel plenty of times before, and had to suppress a flash of irritation at hearing it again, but he knew it was useful to go over the plan, especially before a negotiation as important as this one.
"So... Obi-Wan, are you sure about this? Lucky charm or no, you don't have to come along if you don't want to."
"I'm sure," Obi-Wan firmly said. "Besides, it's Bwomne's. Hardly the most dangerous place you've taken me to."
Enn-Iat Kenobi sighed in the way he sometimes did, the sigh of an adult convinced he was faced with a child's innocence. "If only...."
Father and son were walking the entry corridors towards the doors of Colbste's most exclusive dining establishment, which the Hutt representatives they were meeting would consider barely adequate. In terms of the quality of food on offer, Obi-Wan ruefully considered, they would be completely correct. Bwomne had spent his vast profits on architectural embellishments, columns of white and brown stone standing between cold metal hallways and wooden doors in an impressive arrangement, and on the attire of the wait staff and droids - but as far as Obi-Wan was concerned, the actual menu was worse than his own cooking, which was an impressive achievement.
But he had to be here. It was necessary, to be in as many places as possible when important decisions were made. That was something his father had drilled into him enough times. And with his luck, it was very likely that his being here would help with the negotiation.
Obi-Wan could feel the room they were heading towards. It was a bit of a morass, a sinkhole of utter self-centered sadism. Obi-Wan knew his father well, and though Enn-Iat Kenobi was hardly the most honest politician (itself a low bar), he was ultimately motivated among other things by a genuine desire to help people, if only the ones living in his district. Other people, Obi-Wan had felt a raw shield of indifference about. But this was something worse than indifference. These seemed like the sort of thugs that had tried breaking into their apartment two years ago, except that those thugs would never have been allowed into Bwomne's.
There was danger here, certainly; his father had not been wrong about that. Nonetheless, it was the sort of danger that probably wouldn't involve shooting.
"Welcome, welcome," the droid waiter said as it came up, Obi-Wan not sure if it was repeating itself out of politeness or error, and then they were meeting the emissaries. A human woman and a twi'lek man, both officially representing the entirely legitimate Jaub Holdings. At least, that's what anyone would assume without looking too deep into who owned Jaub or where its money came from, and Jaub had enough credits to ensure no one looked too closely at that. Obi-Wan could feel their dishonesty - they weren't even hiding it.
For his part, he smiled and shook hands, and listened. He also subtly pushed his luck, trying to put the emissaries in a better mood.
It wasn't enough.
The twi'lek talked in hushed, ominous tones, whereas the human was shrill and deliberately insufferable, and neither were intent on negotiating. "I suspect it may be preferable to raise the prices, then," the former eventually said regarding the charges, which were already higher than what the Trade Federation would have charged - legitimately.
And Obi-Wan felt a very, very grim feeling in the pit of his stomach as his father began to get up to leave. Bwomne's was safe, certainly; even these enforcers wouldn't stoop to violence within its boundaries.
But outside it -
And as he realized that, Obi-Wan drew on his luck as much as he could, pushing it out onto both the emissaries' minds and his father's, trying to calm them down. To push things too strongly was to risk getting noticed - Brenn had done so, once, though fortunately he'd not known it was Obi-Wan's fault and started talking nonsense about a ghost possessing him and Jedi and Hutt technology and all sorts of nonsense.
(Well, the Hutts were provably real, and the Jedi were too, if likely less perfect than in on the Holonet, and it wasn't as if anyone knew about ghosts. So it wasn't as if Brenn was being stupid, but no one would believe him anyway.)
Obi-Wan didn't like the envoys, not at all. But if this meeting broke up, it wouldn't be only they who suffered, not even only his family, but all the innocents caught up in the crossfire; and no matter that Obi-Wan had learned young about the shades of gray that defined the galaxy, he couldn't just let that happen without trying anything to stop it.
"Stewjon does not have the money you're discussing now," he said, "but it will. Could we, please, not be too hasty?"
It was a dismal deal in the end, of course. Obi-Wan knew it would have to be. But by the same token, it bought them time; and time, as he explained to his father afterward, did not favor the Hutts.
"Threatening to call it in... that could cut the repayment period short, certainly." Enn-Iat frowned. "But it could also start a war."
"It could start a war," Obi-Wan said, still not sure if he'd done the right thing. "But not today."
*
Mienn City, Alpheridies
Ciaran took her first steps on the planet of her birth cautiously, taking in every detail of the concrete below her feet. Not that there were many such details, of course.
As she walked, 0E by her side and ever keeping an eye of her, she tried to hide the frustration inside her. The fear was fine - she was a child, traveling alone save for a droid. It was to be expected that she would be scared. The truth of who she was and why she was here - that was buried beneath mental shields and shrouds deep enough that Ciaran wasn't worried. Besides, her master had taken precautions, hopefully even ones that didn't involve her death.
But the disappointment of seeing Alpheridies with her Force sight for the first time? That, she knew was bad. She wasn't supposed to think of her homeworld as the pathetic backwater it was, except when she was alone or with her master.
A massive sun hung in the sky, warming the planet below. Mienn City, the largest metropolis on the planet, spread out before her, farm fields and orchards flanking either side of it.
Mienn City was built mainly of single-story stone buildings, and contained less than a million Miraluka.
And it was one thing for a species' main world to be an agricultural backwater, but it was far worse that it was her species. The world on which she had been born. The Miraluka were one of only a few species in the galaxy to be universally Force-sensitive, their histories had produced plenty of great Sith - and, for that matter, Jedi - and yet their civilization had ultimately produced... this.
"What's bothering you, little one?"
...And in trying to not think about her frustration, Ciaran had broadcast it.
She didn't have time to come up with a good lie, so she told the truth, if a downgraded version of it. "I expected something... more," she admitted.
The well-wisher, an elderly woman, shrugged, albeit with a glint of unexpected amusement on her face. "It's no Coruscant, but... well, young as you are, perhaps you can't quite feel it. The serenity, the Light. Even here, the Force is calm."
Ciaran nodded, before politely making her excuses and rushing away. The woman was right, she found; there was indeed a general feeling of peace, a still ocean across which the flames of children and travelers darted. Her own, in that sense, burned brighter than most, but on the whole it was a content world.
That made her hate it all the more, though this time she quickly focused on things other than hatred.
One of those things was the anxiety of what she'd be expected to do. This was apparently her first real mission for her Master, but 0E had refused to tell her what it was. Another was the disinterested 'guardian' that pulled up in a beaten-up landspeeder.
"Hope you've got a plan, kiddo," he said carelessly as he dropped Ciaran off at the hovel she'd be staying at.
As soon as he was gone, she turned to 0E. "Well?" she asked the droid. "What am I supposed to do?" Memories came unbidden as she said the words, memories of fire and pain at failing to perform her katas perfectly, and a cloaked face that she could not see, but that she knew was smiling.
"You're supposed to learn to hide, and listen," it said. "We will be picked up in thirty local days. The more information you bring in at that time, the better."
"Oh." Ciaran leaned back in her chair. She'd expected it to be something like that, really, but she was still surprised. "That's all?" Not that this was bad, but she'd expected her Master to order something harder.
"Yes," 0E said. Infuriatingly, Ciaran couldn't tell whether or not it was a lie.
She found out about ten minutes later, when she heard distant sirens on the road. Fortunately, she was ready for as much. The bad feeling in her chest had never gone away, after all. "0E," she asked, "what's happening?"
Surprisingly, the droid responded. "The driver was also ordered to alert the police, to initiate a search for you."
"You said - "
"There is nothing more in the mission than what I said."
Ciaran tried to summon as many shields as she could around her mind, taking in the room one last time before leaving. She'd have to survive on the streets, somehow, because she definitely wasn't going to find out anything in the forest. If the security forces found her, she'd probably just be sent to an orphanage or something, but her Master would be... not happy. Not at all.
Everything she needed was with her except - wait. 0E....
The droid was conspicuous. It was slow. And the police were probably looking for it as well.
None of that, however, was the reason that Ciaran fried its memory banks in the moment before beginning to flee. She did so purely for vengeance.
Ciaran took her first steps on the planet of her birth cautiously, taking in every detail of the concrete below her feet. Not that there were many such details, of course.
As she walked, 0E by her side and ever keeping an eye of her, she tried to hide the frustration inside her. The fear was fine - she was a child, traveling alone save for a droid. It was to be expected that she would be scared. The truth of who she was and why she was here - that was buried beneath mental shields and shrouds deep enough that Ciaran wasn't worried. Besides, her master had taken precautions, hopefully even ones that didn't involve her death.
But the disappointment of seeing Alpheridies with her Force sight for the first time? That, she knew was bad. She wasn't supposed to think of her homeworld as the pathetic backwater it was, except when she was alone or with her master.
A massive sun hung in the sky, warming the planet below. Mienn City, the largest metropolis on the planet, spread out before her, farm fields and orchards flanking either side of it.
Mienn City was built mainly of single-story stone buildings, and contained less than a million Miraluka.
And it was one thing for a species' main world to be an agricultural backwater, but it was far worse that it was her species. The world on which she had been born. The Miraluka were one of only a few species in the galaxy to be universally Force-sensitive, their histories had produced plenty of great Sith - and, for that matter, Jedi - and yet their civilization had ultimately produced... this.
"What's bothering you, little one?"
...And in trying to not think about her frustration, Ciaran had broadcast it.
She didn't have time to come up with a good lie, so she told the truth, if a downgraded version of it. "I expected something... more," she admitted.
The well-wisher, an elderly woman, shrugged, albeit with a glint of unexpected amusement on her face. "It's no Coruscant, but... well, young as you are, perhaps you can't quite feel it. The serenity, the Light. Even here, the Force is calm."
Ciaran nodded, before politely making her excuses and rushing away. The woman was right, she found; there was indeed a general feeling of peace, a still ocean across which the flames of children and travelers darted. Her own, in that sense, burned brighter than most, but on the whole it was a content world.
That made her hate it all the more, though this time she quickly focused on things other than hatred.
One of those things was the anxiety of what she'd be expected to do. This was apparently her first real mission for her Master, but 0E had refused to tell her what it was. Another was the disinterested 'guardian' that pulled up in a beaten-up landspeeder.
"Hope you've got a plan, kiddo," he said carelessly as he dropped Ciaran off at the hovel she'd be staying at.
As soon as he was gone, she turned to 0E. "Well?" she asked the droid. "What am I supposed to do?" Memories came unbidden as she said the words, memories of fire and pain at failing to perform her katas perfectly, and a cloaked face that she could not see, but that she knew was smiling.
"You're supposed to learn to hide, and listen," it said. "We will be picked up in thirty local days. The more information you bring in at that time, the better."
"Oh." Ciaran leaned back in her chair. She'd expected it to be something like that, really, but she was still surprised. "That's all?" Not that this was bad, but she'd expected her Master to order something harder.
"Yes," 0E said. Infuriatingly, Ciaran couldn't tell whether or not it was a lie.
She found out about ten minutes later, when she heard distant sirens on the road. Fortunately, she was ready for as much. The bad feeling in her chest had never gone away, after all. "0E," she asked, "what's happening?"
Surprisingly, the droid responded. "The driver was also ordered to alert the police, to initiate a search for you."
"You said - "
"There is nothing more in the mission than what I said."
Ciaran tried to summon as many shields as she could around her mind, taking in the room one last time before leaving. She'd have to survive on the streets, somehow, because she definitely wasn't going to find out anything in the forest. If the security forces found her, she'd probably just be sent to an orphanage or something, but her Master would be... not happy. Not at all.
Everything she needed was with her except - wait. 0E....
The droid was conspicuous. It was slow. And the police were probably looking for it as well.
None of that, however, was the reason that Ciaran fried its memory banks in the moment before beginning to flee. She did so purely for vengeance.
*
Village of the Nightbrothers, Dathomir
It was evening, and so the dance began again.
Feral was among the first up, today. Maul Opress watched his brother step forward into the circle, brandishing an axe he hard a hard time lifting. Nevertheless he fought well, parrying the challenger's blows - Xeran, a child a year older than Feral - and at an opportune moment dropping the axe and kicking Xeran in the chest. Xeran toppled, and Feral picked his axe back up and scored a hit.
It was all a bit silly, as might be expected given the ages of the contestants. Regardless, though, Maul hugged and congratulated his brother on the victory.
The truth was, after all, that this match wasn't any more silly than the rest of it.
Older contestants went into the circle, seven years old, eight, nine. Maul was ten, but he'd go up against the fifteen-year-olds. A prodigy, they called him. He'd always been proud of his skill, in the ring and in the hunt. Viscus had once said that he was among the most gifted in the tribe's history.
Yet Maul wasn't satisfied with that, not anymore. It was all so pointless. They hunted to get food, they fought, they sired children, and the best of them sometimes competed in the Selection for the right to die first. Thus it had been for centuries, and thus, the Sisters said, it would always be.
He knew he'd been meant for more. He knew he was capable of more. He was barely even improving nowadays - his defeats were down to lack of reach and of physical strength, and he could only do so much about that.
"Maul Opress, Karrh Tosk!"
The drums beat harder, and there was even some cheering for Maul. He didn't acknowledge it - even when he was in a better mood he didn't. His only focus was on the fight ahead. Karrh gave a big smile as he entered the ring - he was armed with a simple staff. Maul picked up his spear and gave a few experimental waves.
Karrh attacked first, with a flurry of blows, most of which Maul simply ducked under and wove between. Maul gave a jab, enough to drive Karrh back, and then there was another flurry he had to defend against. Maul focused on dodging, mostly, but as Karrh's strikes grew more erratic, as his opponent grew increasingly desperate, he drove in a jab. He'd expected Karrh to block, but for some reason he hesitated.
The head of the spear sunk into the side of Karrh's leg, drawing a fair bit of blood. Not a life-threatening wound, but the older boy went down clutching it nonetheless. Maul hesitated before kneeling down and helping the older boy out of the ring, silently. He was greeted by applause. Would Karrh have gotten the same celebration, in his place? Did it matter?
"We'll have to have you fight adults soon," the chieftain said. Maul only shrugged.
The adult fights began, afterward, and Maul made his curt excuses and left the circle, because he'd seen them enough times. Karrh came up to him, limping, away from the gathering.
"You're angry," he said without preamble.
"Not at you," Maul clarified. "Sorry about... that."
"I'll recover," Karrh said. "Look, whatever it was...."
And at that point, Maul's tension overflowed. "It's just all so pointless," he said. "I'm not getting any better, and it wouldn't matter if I was."
Karrh frowned. "There's always the Sisters. Trust me, you might not care now...."
"That's stupid," Maul insisted. "All the adults want to have kids, as if that actually matters. Someone will, anyhow, it doesn't really matter who, the tribe will go on."
"You'll understand."
"Maybe," Maul admitted, "but I'll never agree."
Karrh looked over him in a new light. "I think you need a new challenge."
"I do," Maul said. "But there isn't one."
Karrh looked down at his leg. "You could learn a trade," he said. "Healing, say."
Maul shook his head. "It's just...." He looked up, to where the last bits of twilight were fading. Above the cliffs, the stars spread out in their intricate constellations. "I don't want to do everything decently. I want - I need - to... to tear the constellations apart. To ignite new stars, and burn the old ones with their fire."
Karrh chuckled. "I don't think even the Sisters could do it, with their magic."
And at that point, Maul had a realization, and smiled. "That's it," he said. "I'll learn magic."
"That's impossible," Karrh immediately answered. "Only women can do magic, and even if you could, none of them would ever teach it to you."
"It's impossible," Maul agreed. "And that's exactly why I'm going to do it."
It was evening, and so the dance began again.
Feral was among the first up, today. Maul Opress watched his brother step forward into the circle, brandishing an axe he hard a hard time lifting. Nevertheless he fought well, parrying the challenger's blows - Xeran, a child a year older than Feral - and at an opportune moment dropping the axe and kicking Xeran in the chest. Xeran toppled, and Feral picked his axe back up and scored a hit.
It was all a bit silly, as might be expected given the ages of the contestants. Regardless, though, Maul hugged and congratulated his brother on the victory.
The truth was, after all, that this match wasn't any more silly than the rest of it.
Older contestants went into the circle, seven years old, eight, nine. Maul was ten, but he'd go up against the fifteen-year-olds. A prodigy, they called him. He'd always been proud of his skill, in the ring and in the hunt. Viscus had once said that he was among the most gifted in the tribe's history.
Yet Maul wasn't satisfied with that, not anymore. It was all so pointless. They hunted to get food, they fought, they sired children, and the best of them sometimes competed in the Selection for the right to die first. Thus it had been for centuries, and thus, the Sisters said, it would always be.
He knew he'd been meant for more. He knew he was capable of more. He was barely even improving nowadays - his defeats were down to lack of reach and of physical strength, and he could only do so much about that.
"Maul Opress, Karrh Tosk!"
The drums beat harder, and there was even some cheering for Maul. He didn't acknowledge it - even when he was in a better mood he didn't. His only focus was on the fight ahead. Karrh gave a big smile as he entered the ring - he was armed with a simple staff. Maul picked up his spear and gave a few experimental waves.
Karrh attacked first, with a flurry of blows, most of which Maul simply ducked under and wove between. Maul gave a jab, enough to drive Karrh back, and then there was another flurry he had to defend against. Maul focused on dodging, mostly, but as Karrh's strikes grew more erratic, as his opponent grew increasingly desperate, he drove in a jab. He'd expected Karrh to block, but for some reason he hesitated.
The head of the spear sunk into the side of Karrh's leg, drawing a fair bit of blood. Not a life-threatening wound, but the older boy went down clutching it nonetheless. Maul hesitated before kneeling down and helping the older boy out of the ring, silently. He was greeted by applause. Would Karrh have gotten the same celebration, in his place? Did it matter?
"We'll have to have you fight adults soon," the chieftain said. Maul only shrugged.
The adult fights began, afterward, and Maul made his curt excuses and left the circle, because he'd seen them enough times. Karrh came up to him, limping, away from the gathering.
"You're angry," he said without preamble.
"Not at you," Maul clarified. "Sorry about... that."
"I'll recover," Karrh said. "Look, whatever it was...."
And at that point, Maul's tension overflowed. "It's just all so pointless," he said. "I'm not getting any better, and it wouldn't matter if I was."
Karrh frowned. "There's always the Sisters. Trust me, you might not care now...."
"That's stupid," Maul insisted. "All the adults want to have kids, as if that actually matters. Someone will, anyhow, it doesn't really matter who, the tribe will go on."
"You'll understand."
"Maybe," Maul admitted, "but I'll never agree."
Karrh looked over him in a new light. "I think you need a new challenge."
"I do," Maul said. "But there isn't one."
Karrh looked down at his leg. "You could learn a trade," he said. "Healing, say."
Maul shook his head. "It's just...." He looked up, to where the last bits of twilight were fading. Above the cliffs, the stars spread out in their intricate constellations. "I don't want to do everything decently. I want - I need - to... to tear the constellations apart. To ignite new stars, and burn the old ones with their fire."
Karrh chuckled. "I don't think even the Sisters could do it, with their magic."
And at that point, Maul had a realization, and smiled. "That's it," he said. "I'll learn magic."
"That's impossible," Karrh immediately answered. "Only women can do magic, and even if you could, none of them would ever teach it to you."
"It's impossible," Maul agreed. "And that's exactly why I'm going to do it."
*
Jedi Temple, Coruscant
The Temple, and, Asajj Ventress thought, surely the whole galaxy as well, was full of sadness on the day of the funeral.
Asajj had never known Master Qui-Gon Jinn, but she could feel the sadness of both those that had and those that hadn't, around her, on that day. Master Dooku, especially, seemed like some part of him was burning in pain at Master Jinn's lost. He was scary on the best days, but today Asajj tried to actively avoiding coming anywhere close to him. But even Master Windu, who apparently had always argued with Master Jinn, was in a darkened mood.
"Why is everyone this sad?" Namren had asked, and their instructor, Master Kerrino, had explained about Master Jinn's death. "But usually it's not as bad when a Jedi goes to the Force," Namren had protested.
Asajj could feel it, too. It was as if the entire Temple was crying, as if the walls were ringing like bells with the pain of Master Jinn's loss. "He is one with the Force now," many of the Masters said, and Asajj guessed it made things better, but it was still a dark day. Even the clouds seemed to know it, covering the sky and pouring down a steady drizzle that made the Knights and Masters even less happy. They weren't angry, though - just dazed, really.
In the end it was Garen Muln, an older Initiate, that explained things, in overheard gossip. "It was his own Padawan that killed him," he explained. "His name was Zanyhorse or something. He fell to the Dark and went crazy and attacked him."
"I heard they had an epic duel," one of the other Initiates, Aalto, said. "Green and red lightsabers, just like in the days of the Sith Wars. And they impaled each other on their lightsabers at the same moment."
"How would anyone know that?" Garen asked. "Anyway, the Temple lost a great Master, but because it was a former Jedi that killed him, it's even worse. Master Jinn was the first Jedi Master to die to a lightsaber blade in a century." Garen turned and noticed the gaggle of Bergruutfa Clan initiates. "Ah, right. And that, kids, is why you stay away from the Dark Side. Because otherwise you'll go insane like Zanyhorse did."
Asajj wanted to giggle at that, but she couldn't. The melancholy of it all was too strong, pressing from every side. Eventually she couldn't help it anymore, and she went down to the courtyard where Master Jinn's funeral was going on. She listened to Yoda talk about Master Jinn, and then eventually she saw Dooku, who was for once not concealing his grief in the Force, set his funeral pyre alight. A couple of times the adults tried to wave her away, but she had to be there, and they understood that in the end.
The fire wasn't powerful in the Force or anything - just normal fire - but there was a lightening of the mood, still, afterwards. Most of the Jedi nodded solemnly and got on with their lives. Asajj did too, but over the following days she often thought about the funeral and the emptiness that had filled the Temple during it. And, perhaps, it was the will of the Force that she would end up talking to Master Dooku about it. Certainly, it wasn't the will of Dooku himself, or Asajj for that matter.
It was more or less coincidence that she ran into him, but it'd still felt right to ask him about Sense powers, which they were just beginning to study, and reluctantly, the famous Master gave an impromptu lesson to her and Lorana. Afterwards, though, he gave a long-suffering sigh and asked Asajj to walk with him.
"I'm sorry," she said suddenly. "About Master Jinn...."
Dooku stayed silent, for a while, before they came out onto a balcony overlooking Coruscant. "Qui-Gon..." he said, then, as they looked out at the morning traffic. "You don't know... anything about that whole tragedy, or my wayward apprentice. But it is hardly your fault, and I suppose...." He turned to Asajj. "I suppose I might as well talk to an Initiate about this. Force knows every other age group has already bothered me about it."
Asajj stayed silent, and after a moment Dooku shook his head and continued. "I'm not young anymore," he said. "In a way it's taken me this long to realize it. And now I wonder what it was for."
"For the Force," Asajj said, "isn't it? And for the Republic."
Dooku stood up straighter at that, and shook his head. "No, young one," he said. "It was for the people of the galaxy. The Republic is incompetent, and the Force... the Force can do fine without any of us." He knelt down and patted her shoulder, but his eyes held the depth of eons. "Never forget that, Asajj. And perhaps I should make sure not to forget it either. What we do, we do not for the Senate, and not for a single person, but for the greater good of the sapients of the entire galaxy." He swept his hand outward, at the cityscape before them. "There are so many of them, Asajj. The Jedi Code is not to feel attachment, because what is a single life, compared to all Coruscant? Imagine how many people are in even one of the towers...."
He spoke for a while after that, about the size of things, to try and explain to Asajj just how huge the galaxy was. And it really was huge, and wondrous, and terrible.
But as Dooku talked, and Asajj listened, in awe at the scale of all things, she nevertheless remembered how Dooku had been at Master Jinn's funeral and thought that maybe a single life mattered a great deal, after all, and that maybe, just maybe, Master Dooku thought so too.
The Temple, and, Asajj Ventress thought, surely the whole galaxy as well, was full of sadness on the day of the funeral.
Asajj had never known Master Qui-Gon Jinn, but she could feel the sadness of both those that had and those that hadn't, around her, on that day. Master Dooku, especially, seemed like some part of him was burning in pain at Master Jinn's lost. He was scary on the best days, but today Asajj tried to actively avoiding coming anywhere close to him. But even Master Windu, who apparently had always argued with Master Jinn, was in a darkened mood.
"Why is everyone this sad?" Namren had asked, and their instructor, Master Kerrino, had explained about Master Jinn's death. "But usually it's not as bad when a Jedi goes to the Force," Namren had protested.
Asajj could feel it, too. It was as if the entire Temple was crying, as if the walls were ringing like bells with the pain of Master Jinn's loss. "He is one with the Force now," many of the Masters said, and Asajj guessed it made things better, but it was still a dark day. Even the clouds seemed to know it, covering the sky and pouring down a steady drizzle that made the Knights and Masters even less happy. They weren't angry, though - just dazed, really.
In the end it was Garen Muln, an older Initiate, that explained things, in overheard gossip. "It was his own Padawan that killed him," he explained. "His name was Zanyhorse or something. He fell to the Dark and went crazy and attacked him."
"I heard they had an epic duel," one of the other Initiates, Aalto, said. "Green and red lightsabers, just like in the days of the Sith Wars. And they impaled each other on their lightsabers at the same moment."
"How would anyone know that?" Garen asked. "Anyway, the Temple lost a great Master, but because it was a former Jedi that killed him, it's even worse. Master Jinn was the first Jedi Master to die to a lightsaber blade in a century." Garen turned and noticed the gaggle of Bergruutfa Clan initiates. "Ah, right. And that, kids, is why you stay away from the Dark Side. Because otherwise you'll go insane like Zanyhorse did."
Asajj wanted to giggle at that, but she couldn't. The melancholy of it all was too strong, pressing from every side. Eventually she couldn't help it anymore, and she went down to the courtyard where Master Jinn's funeral was going on. She listened to Yoda talk about Master Jinn, and then eventually she saw Dooku, who was for once not concealing his grief in the Force, set his funeral pyre alight. A couple of times the adults tried to wave her away, but she had to be there, and they understood that in the end.
The fire wasn't powerful in the Force or anything - just normal fire - but there was a lightening of the mood, still, afterwards. Most of the Jedi nodded solemnly and got on with their lives. Asajj did too, but over the following days she often thought about the funeral and the emptiness that had filled the Temple during it. And, perhaps, it was the will of the Force that she would end up talking to Master Dooku about it. Certainly, it wasn't the will of Dooku himself, or Asajj for that matter.
It was more or less coincidence that she ran into him, but it'd still felt right to ask him about Sense powers, which they were just beginning to study, and reluctantly, the famous Master gave an impromptu lesson to her and Lorana. Afterwards, though, he gave a long-suffering sigh and asked Asajj to walk with him.
"I'm sorry," she said suddenly. "About Master Jinn...."
Dooku stayed silent, for a while, before they came out onto a balcony overlooking Coruscant. "Qui-Gon..." he said, then, as they looked out at the morning traffic. "You don't know... anything about that whole tragedy, or my wayward apprentice. But it is hardly your fault, and I suppose...." He turned to Asajj. "I suppose I might as well talk to an Initiate about this. Force knows every other age group has already bothered me about it."
Asajj stayed silent, and after a moment Dooku shook his head and continued. "I'm not young anymore," he said. "In a way it's taken me this long to realize it. And now I wonder what it was for."
"For the Force," Asajj said, "isn't it? And for the Republic."
Dooku stood up straighter at that, and shook his head. "No, young one," he said. "It was for the people of the galaxy. The Republic is incompetent, and the Force... the Force can do fine without any of us." He knelt down and patted her shoulder, but his eyes held the depth of eons. "Never forget that, Asajj. And perhaps I should make sure not to forget it either. What we do, we do not for the Senate, and not for a single person, but for the greater good of the sapients of the entire galaxy." He swept his hand outward, at the cityscape before them. "There are so many of them, Asajj. The Jedi Code is not to feel attachment, because what is a single life, compared to all Coruscant? Imagine how many people are in even one of the towers...."
He spoke for a while after that, about the size of things, to try and explain to Asajj just how huge the galaxy was. And it really was huge, and wondrous, and terrible.
But as Dooku talked, and Asajj listened, in awe at the scale of all things, she nevertheless remembered how Dooku had been at Master Jinn's funeral and thought that maybe a single life mattered a great deal, after all, and that maybe, just maybe, Master Dooku thought so too.
*
A/N: If you remember The Invisible Reflected, this is a similar AU, with the same four characters 'rotated' rather than reflected. The third AU, with rotation in the opposite direction, will be coming eventually. Basically, Asajj gets picked up by the Jedi and Obi-Wan doesn't. And meanwhile, Sidious recruits Savage instead of Maul as a specialized assassin. Because Savage isn't quite as strong in the Force as Maul, though, he winds up focusing Savage's training even more on combat, and so decided to recruit a specialized infiltrator, which is a role that ends up filled by Ciaran. These are both specialists like canon!Maul, and therefore both known by Plagueis and outside the Rule of Two.
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- Location
- Australia
Oh! I know what you're doing here! It's when you're GMing a game and you accidentally make a narrative contradiction that gets called out by the player, and then the GM goes something like "Yes, that does seem like a contradiction. Very strange..." And then that makes the players think it's intentional and that there's some kind of plot twist coming up or something.It is rather uncharacteristic of her to go into a (relatively) straight-up fight like that, isn't it?
Small Nerd
Meganekko
- Location
- Out There
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Are you implying that Dr. Snark's Ph. D is in Improvisation and not Meticulous Planning as we all know it is? That's silly! Everyone knows our Intrepid GM has had this whole quest planned since before Teron even got the idea for it.
Actually, it's the DM subtly pointing out that she could beat Grievous' ass in a straight fight and just because she prefers to avoid direct conflict, doesn't mean she's not capable of it if it becomes necessary.
Speaking of Grievous, @Dr. Snark his image link is broken on the cast page