The Sith Lord Darth Vader lived his life. He probably didn't live it well, but he lived it as well as he knew how. At the end there, he'd even managed to woman up and kill Sidious. But he was dying, and at peace with the past. The past wasn't at peace with him.

The Sith Lord Darth Vader lived his life. He probably didn't live it well, but he lived it as well as he knew how. At the end there, he'd even managed to woman up and kill Sidious. But he was dying, and at peace with the past. The past wasn't at peace with him.

The New Republic has been after Luke, Leia, and Han to commit to doing some PR work. Their ideas have ranged from bad to worse. When they come to Leia with the notion of one of the trio starring on a holonet competition show, the last thing she and Han expect is for Luke to volunteer to go on Dancing Across the Galaxy. And nobody expected him to actually try and win.

“Well,” Kit says lightly. “This does seem to be a predicament, doesn’t it?” Pressed right up against him, gauntlets digging bruises into his almost-bare hips, Dogma squeezes his eyes tightly shut. “I'm going to kill my whole squad,” he says, perfectly certain and resigned to it.

There's a moment of absolute silence as Fives and Echo trade startled glances, Rex gapes at Obi-Wan, and Kix and Jesse freeze, eyes widening. Then, deliberately, awkwardly, Rex clears his throat, face about four shades redder than it was a moment ago. “General, you—you know Quinlan?” No wonder they made it out of the smuggler’s mansion in one piece. Obi-Wan breathes in through his nose, lets it out, and then says, “Very well, yes. Quinlan Vos, I thought you were dead, and instead you were—were—playing hooker to a crime lord!”

Fox, Padmé, and a conversation about armor.

Thire's grimace is apologetic, but that doesn’t stop him from saying, “We’ve got a guy from that group of infiltrators who got rounded up last night asking to speak with command.” Fox waits, brow raised, because if every lowlife who wanted to talk to command ended up in his office he’d never do anything else. Thire knows that, too. If this guy rates a mention, there’s a reason. Thire's expression says he needs a vacation, and also someone else willing to play messenger. “He says he’s a Jedi, sir.”

With a sound of quiet sympathy, Kit reaches out, tapping his knuckles lightly against Rex's pauldron. “Forgive me, Captain, but I believe you would be far more comfortable without your armor. The beach cannot be a pleasant place for you right now.” Rex pauses, almost startled by the idea of taking his armor off. He’s on a mission, or at least the disastrous tail end of one, and unless he’s on leave, he almost never strips down to his blacks. And it’s been…months, since his last stretch of leave that wasn’t cut off before it even started. “Oh,” he says dumbly, and then flushes, reaching for the clasps on his armor. “Right, sorry, sir.”

Jedi are dragons.

“What is that?” Thire asks, wrinkling his nose as Fox marches past him. He immediately turns to open a window. Fox snorts, lifting a boot to kick Thorn where he’s sprawled out on the couch. Thorn groans, but raises his head, and Fox jerks his head at him. “A Jedi,” he answers, and Thorn freezes, eyes widening.

The Republic hasn't had a standing army in over two thousand years. Even before the Reformation, there was no war on a grand enough scale to justify the expense. It feels like a bad joke, when the Chancellor decrees it, when the Senate allows it. The Jedi aren't a military. The Jedi have never been a military. They give Obi-Wan a battalion. They give him a battlecruiser, a Marshall Commander, they knight his Padawan. He looks over all the clerical minutiae a military runs on and wishes they'd given him a secretary. cody, obi-wan, and ghost company at the beginning of the war, learning to work together, trust each other, maybe even like each other

Obi-Wan went over thirty years without a heat. It was hardly unusual or unexpected. Everyone knew omega reproductive systems were finicky. Omegas were incredibly fertile while in heat. Nature had, perhaps, compensated for the situation by ensuring they only went into heat when...conditions were correct. OR, the Dark Side AU where the Empire is already in power, the Jedi are long gone, and Obi-Wan Kenobi ends up leading an army to wipe out the Emperor's enemies. Things get more complicated when he goes into heat.

“Who’s in the next room?” Obi-Wan asks, low and soft right next to Hardcase’s ear.

Personal logs from a datapad, early Empire era. Property of the University of Ainac, department of History, Archives, YGE (years of the Galactic Empire) 27.ca.38

“No,” Padmé says, breathless but full of iron. “Hands on the floor.”

This was supposed to be a vacation.

Jango's eyes flicker up, down, up again, and it’s meant to be dismissive, but Shaak knows wariness when she sees it, and it makes her smile just a little. “Lady, I just tried to put a slug through that fancy headdress of yours.” With a chuckle, Shaak takes a step closer. “Fett, I've been a Jedi for decades. If I held a grudge against everyone who had tried to kill me, I would have more enemies than you.”

“This planet,” Mace says quietly, “is not a place that was meant for you.” Kix doesn’t move from where he’s sitting, just watches the shadows shift and shiver as the trees stir around them. There's no wind, just the steady rumble of thunder above them, the flickers of the lightning, and hiss of leaves and stems and branches moving on their own, bending away from the violet glow of Mace's lightsaber, the muddy hem of his robes. “I think it suits me just fine,” Kix says, and it’s soft because he doesn’t need to shout. There are better ways of being angry right now.

Fox has a second chance, a to-do list, a stolen lightsaber, and a complete willingness to give everyone around him grey hairs. And a Jedi Master to seduce. It's going to be a ride.

His hands shook as he pulled out the small box from where he’d hidden it in the back of his desk drawer. Just a tenday ago, Seventeen had come to Coruscant so he could be present when the Bill was signed, and he’d wordlessly pressed the box into Cody’s hand when they’d had a moment alone. He hadn’t opened it until today. Sitting in the box were three pairs of earrings: one blue, one purple, and one pink. He looked at them, confirmed his current thought pattern, and took out the blue ones. He put them both in and could feel himself relax immediately. He thought about putting the others in his pocket just in case, but ultimately left them on his desk. After so long as “he,” it would probably take a while until anything else felt safe. ----- “Every day you're seeing our existence debated. Transgender people are so very real.” - Elliot Page, TIME Magazine (March 2021)

“How you feeling, sir?” he asked, eyeing his General. They’d, at least, managed to all evac back to the shuttles without losing anyone, leaving the noxious-smelling laboratory where they’d found a pack of Seppy scientists working on new biological weapons behind. “I’ll be fine, Commander,” Obi-Wan said, without opening his eyes, his voice thick and hoarse. “But comm ahead, would you, and make sure the medics are ready for me.” OR, the one were Obi-Wan gets dosed with an especially nasty toxin, and Cody helps him survive the following hours.

Not even two days later, Fox revised his opinion. This wasn’t a disaster. This was a Grade-A, first order, fresh off the hot plate fuckfest. Fox’s day had gone something like this: lay in bed. Get up. Knock back some of the sludge in the mess masquerading as caf. Go through forms. Fill out forms. Bust open a closet in which the Senators for Uyter and Kinyen had both managed to get “stuck” in. Go through more forms. Fill out more forms. Get called up to the Senate dome to tell a Senator that no, the Guard did not address noise complaints. Find that the stack of datapads on his desk had somehow tripled over the last two hours. Despair at the state of his inbox. Etcetera, etcetera. And then.

Normally, she wouldn’t be here—there was flimsiwork to be done, wounded to visit, and loved ones to write letters to explaining the deaths of their sisters, but after she had limped onto the transport that was bound off the battlefield and back to the Endurance, Ponds, also one of the last off the field, laying eyes on her for the first time in days after they’d separated for the battle, had taken one look at her and firmly told her that she needed a break. Mace hadn’t had the energy to argue—Ponds, when convinced of something, was quietly stubborn to the end. So Mace had gone through a list of places she could quietly retreat to on Coruscant that weren’t close enough to the Temple for anyone to recognize her out of Jedi robes, and had ended up picking the Moonlight on a half remembered memory. Series

“This is incredibly sweet,” Obi-Wan observed with a fond smile. Cody was currently telling the cadets a story and they listened excitedly to his every word. “He just exudes ori’vod energy. The younger ones can’t help themselves,” Alpha replied. “It’s been like this his entire life.”

“What?” Rex's voice shades towards alarm. “Cody, that’s a bad idea—” “You can't go,” Cody says reasonably. “You have to monitor communications and make sure the generals have an extraction ready if they need it. Ghost Company’s down half its men right now, so I have the chance.” “That’s exactly the tone you used when you explained why you were overcome with the urge to punch General Grievous in the metal face,” Rex informs him. “Cody, no.”

Ponds is wandering the halls of the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, on his way to a meeting with his general, when he finds a crying youngling. He’s clutching his hands close to himself and Ponds abruptly remembers a mission with General Vos, who had an eerily similar reaction to a set of manacles. Ponds can’t help but kneel in front of the kid and offer him his pair of brand new gloves.

“Can't kriffing believe he sent a Naboo to kriffing Tatooine,” Owen says, too loud, but—they're in the middle of the wilderness. There's no one who’s going to hear him except the Force, and if it does hear him, he hopes it turns around and beats some light-bedamned sense into Obi-Wan Kenobi’s skull. In his lap, fully entranced by the corner of the blanket Owen has him bundled in, Luke coos, beams, and flips his tail. The fancy, flowing, colorful fins slap Owen’s thigh, and he sighs, tugs the bottom of the wrap down to hide as much as he can.

Sometime between the end of the war and when Fox got shot, Coruscant Guard CMO Basher got their hands on the good drugs. That was the only explanation, really. Someone (Thorn) also made the mistake of giving Fox a datapad.

When Thorn convinced Fox to start playing his favorite MMO, Fox expected to get bored of it after a few days. Instead, months later, Fox was deeply invested in the catgirl character he'd created, and it might just make him realize some things about himself.

The Jedi were never meant to fight in war. They still aren’t meant to. But that’s what they’re doing, and that results in almost every single Jedi reaching for the Dark Side unintentionally at one point or another, results in every Jedi Falling, losing the parts of themselves that are kind and good. Except for the vod’e noticed when they started to Fall, and decided that they weren’t going to let it happen—and it turns out, you can’t really Fall if you have people to Catch you. Force-null or not, the vod’e figure out how to pull their Jetiise back into the Light, and do so as many times as is needed. General Kenobi is one of the last to start Falling for their first time.

The planetary security forces have captured a Sith, and Maul has nothing but a bad feeling about this.

There’s something strange about the bounty hunter the marks hired for this job, but Granta can't quite put his finger on it.