One x One Star Wars Flashbacks

[Lucyfer]

@KyloGlenn


Original thread: Star Wars


Character Thread: Characters


Tarkin Diaries: Diaries

Scene List
​

 
​

• Fragments of Ceres
  
• The Arrival
  
• Sparring
  
• Emotions
  
• Padawans
  
• Jealousy
  
• Kids Will Be Terrifying
  
• Force Field
  
• Ewoks
  
• Lights
  
• Puns
  
• Virginity
  
• Final Moments
  
• Chastity
  
• Patience
  
• Hosnian Prime
  
• Empire
  
• Orrineswa River
  
• Separatist Party
  
• Mean
  
• Blaster
  
• Pandemonium
  
• First Whispers
  
• Allies Means....
  
• Sleeping Spaces
  
• Laughter
  

 

[Lucyfer]

Fragments of Ceres
​

Ceres Mandon did not understand much. The young girl with the blonde hair did not understand why she was locked in her room until she “behaved”.
 
“Mom.”
 
There was no answer from the other side of the door, though.
 
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to….”
 
They kept telling her that it was her, though. That she had broken the windows, and she had hurt dad with the glass, but she didn’t understand how. They told her that the burns in her bed were her fault, but she didn’t know how. They said it was the ‘Force’, and she needed to control it, because she could do that, if she behaved.
 

Behaving seemed to mean that she stopped screaming, or crying, or…anything.
 
But she had nightmares, and she woke up to fire.
 
And she was hungry, and they were starving her as punishment until she behaved, so she was angry.
 
And when she cried, she choked on the pressure and then she became afraid of dying, and everything seemed to move around her, breaking against walls.
 
“Mom.”
 
Still nothing, but Ceres knew she was near. She had heard her voice, but it wasn’t her voice. Not the one she used to speak, but the one she used to keep secrets. Her mother called it ‘thoughts’ and Ceres was supposed to stop ‘reading’ those, but she didn’t know how.
 
The girl whimpered and brought her knees to her chest. She was hungry, and she was trying to behave, but she felt that pressure with the sorrow and knew it wasn’t going to last as the tears started to fall again. ‘I don’t want this. I don’t want to do this. I’m sorry. I’m behaving, I’m trying to behave, I don’t know why….’ Throat tightened. The pressure was engulfing her, pressing her tighter into the ball she’d already tried to make of herself.
 
She buried her head in her knees and tried not to cry, but that wasn’t the problem. The immense weight of her sorrow and guilt was all that mattered, and the more she tried to suppress the act of crying, the more she felt the sorrow itself, until she was choking on the sobs as the pressure closed her airways.
 
Ceres heard the crash of objects then, as fear clawed at her mind.

The cycle renewing itself. Anger and hatred followed, all directed inwards.
 
“Ceres, just stop!” It was a choked plea from behind a wooden door, the only protection that her mother could find. “You have to stop!”
 
She wanted to. She always wanted to, but she didn’t know how it began.

There was another deep, gasping sob from behind that door, and no words, but Ceres heard it all the same.

‘I can’t keep doing this.’
‘I can’t afford this.’
‘I can’t.’
 
‘Afford’ was a word she knew. She heard it tossed around enough by her father, who kept saying that they couldn’t afford her in the voice that wasn’t his voice. That they’d have to get rid of her if this kept up, if she kept breaking things, if she kept being unaffordable because things cost money. ‘If I don’t break things.’
 
The logic of a child. Ceres let the fear drive her, wild-eyed, to remember the window was broken. If she didn’t break things here she could be affordable, right?
 
She ran for the window, faster than she realized, and jumped from the second floor without realizing how dangerous that truly was. She ran, far and fast, to a place she would fall as an adult – the ‘Jedi Temple’.
 
Her parents used to talk of it as a haven for ‘people like her’.
 
But it was ‘ruins’, which meant it was already ‘broken’.
 
She found a space between the leaning pillars of rubble, and broke down in her hunger, her anger, her sorrow, and felt the destruction as it spilled out of her.
 
Eventually, the police were called, and by then, she was sleeping soundly, exhausted of her emotions and dreamless. They woke her, questioned her, and eventually took her home. Though Ceres didn’t notice it, her parents weren’t the least bit worried, or relieved, when she was returned.
 
‘I hoped she wouldn’t return.’ A trailing not-voice of mother, as Ceres had drifted off to sleep again. ‘Does that make me a bad mother?’
 
‘I didn’t sign up for this.’
‘Someone else could do better.’
‘I don’t know what to do, but.’
‘I can’t.’
 
~***~
 
It was only a couple of months later that Ceres found herself stepping into a very sterile and very white building. She looked anxiously around, hand squeezing her mother’s almost to breaking fingers, but her mother didn’t so much as look down. She just walked forward to the desk and the waiting people, and then shook off Ceres’s hand once a datapad was offered.
 
She took it. “Ma’am, once you sign that—” but there was no hesitation, despite the hesitation in the dark-skinned woman’s tone. The datapad was signed, and all but dropped back into the hands of the stranger.
 
The stranger looked as if she’d been slapped when the mother turned swiftly away.
 
“Mom?” Ceres turned with her, and started to walk after her, but the dark-skinned woman in white knelt to grasp her arm—gently as she could.
 
‘I can’t.’
 
It was like a mantra.
 
‘Don’t look back. You’ll change your mind, and you can’t. We can’t.’
 
“Mom?!”
 
‘I love you. Please, please, please find someone who can help you. I can’t.’
 
The panic rose to a fever pitch and Ceres tried to escape the grip that was on her arm, but the other woman moved to help. Only then did her eyes take on that unusually bright light that always came before the lightning.
 
It lanced up her arms, burning and opening them – they’d heal. They always did. But the women were wholly unprepared for it. The second one yelped and let go, but the other gripped tighter and pulled Ceres back, wrapping an arm around her waist and kneeling down to be at her height.
 
“Shh, girl, shh.”
 
‘Now it makes sense.’ The thought. ‘Now I see why she left.’
 
Ceres screamed, kicked, fought, but was sedated without even realizing it.
 
~***~
 
Foster home after foster home followed.
 
Ceres got used to the mantra of ‘I can’t’. It became her own.
 
I can’t live here.
I can’t do this.
I can’t do that.
I can’t cry.
I can’t scream.
I can’t feel.
 
Despite it all, she was still human. They tried to put her into a normal school again, taking her from her four walls and books. She was the quiet girl buried in books who aced her tests and her papers and everything put in front of her, because that was what she could do, that was what she had to do in order to stay, this time.
 
It couldn’t last.
 
“Hey, Ceres!”
 
She looked up from her book, a history of the Imperial Senate that was too advanced for her to fully understand, but she was trying. She met the eyes of her peer, a boy she didn’t really like, but she tried not to feel that, either. She just stared at him impassively, waiting. “How come your name’s Mandon? Isn’t Bella your sister?”
 
“She’s not my sister by blood.” Ceres answered in a well-trained monotone. ‘Just another foster…we’re not twins.’ She was in the same class with her.
 
“So are your parents your parents?”
 
“They’re not my parents.”
 
“Where are your parents?”
 
She shook her head.

 “You adopted?”

 Another shake of her head. No, no one liked her enough to adopt her. She was just passed along for money, until the home wasn’t paid enough to ‘afford’ her, because she broke things, broke people, broke them.

“So you’re not adopted, and you don’t know who your parents are?”
 
“I know my parents. They’re the Mandons.”
 
The boy looked as if he’d just won something, “But they didn’t want you,” he insisted, “You’re not a Mandon if they didn’t want you.”
 
Anger caught fire within, but she tried to bury the heat of it, looking back down at her book and trying to lose herself in the words of the ‘Tarkin Doctrine’. “I bet they didn’t want you ‘cause you’re so quiet.” And the insult was met with silence, “Why didn’t they want you, Ceres?” Ignored.
 
Then he grabbed the book and pulled it down, “Why?”
 
‘I’ll show you why.’
 
She didn’t speak, of course. She didn’t need to, the anger rose to the surface when he grasped the book. She met his gaze, steely blue to her burning green, and her will manifested. She’d gained some level of control, enough to help manipulate this ‘Force’ when her emotions needed to be set free.
 
The boy was lifted from his feet, book dropping from his hand. His own hands instead went to claw at his throat as he struggled, gasped, sputtered. His gang turned tail to run, screaming for a teacher.

 Ceres told herself she’d just scare him, she’d let him down, but seeing him up there, struggling and terrified…it was too nice. Too pleasant. She leaned back on her hands, and she watched him, enjoying the rush of power until she was being yelled at.

Again.
 
‘I can’t do this.’
 
And she dropped him. Roughly.
 
On to the next ‘home sweet home’. The next four-walled prison, where she was just extra money for someone to mistreat. 

 

[Lucyfer]

The Arrival
​

Ben Solo hated the Jedi Academy.
 
He hated his peers. He hated the teachings. He nearly hated Luke, but Luke at least seemed try and understand him. Now and then, he overheard Luke conversing with his mother about how he was ‘too old’.
 
“You were too old, too, Luke.”
“You should have brought him to me sooner.”
“Han didn’t want him to become like you.”
“Like me? Or like….”
 
His peers were younger than him, for the most part. There were a few that were his age or older, but he didn’t care much about them. They were…different from Luke. They were creepily stoic and didn’t seem to know how to laugh. They smiled, now and then, but Ben rarely felt anything from them.
 
It all changed when a girl arrived with his father. Ben sensed the disturbance and left his meditations, even as one of the overseeing children called after him. He ran to the landing pad and saw his father, Luke, and a girl with blonde hair there. She was a mess of nerves, and it was obvious in the way the Force moved around her, and how Han kept a couple of paces back.
 
“…found out about you and, well, Leia asked me to transport her here.”
 
Luke looked a bit exasperated, and Ben could guess why. ‘My age….’ Which meant too old. Yet, the Force moved strongly around her—as it had done with him. Whoever she was, she must have come from a strong lineage.
 
Luke knelt and offered his hand to her, “It’s all right now,” he said, and Ben bet he felt all that fear. Why was she so afraid, though? She shook her head, and Luke urged with his fingers, “Don’t worry.” There was hesitation, and then, she reached out. Ben felt the call of the Force from Luke, and understood; he was fighting back against her own influence. He took hold of her hand.
 
Ben canted his head as he felt the shift, finding it fascinating. Amidst all those who had it under control, he was finally seeing what Luke had spoken of—what happened when one was enslaved by their emotions. He watched her eyes widen as Luke was able to touch her, and he saw the spark of joy and the way things the nearby plant life seemed to stand at attention.

Luke smiled, “We’ll get that all under control here. You don’t need to be afraid anymore—I know all about the Force.”

A second, and then, the girl stepped forward and threw her arms around Luke. He followed suit, wrapping his robotic hand around her and pulling her into the embrace as he heard Han scoff and Ben saw him roll his eyes.
 
“Yeah, you get the hug, not me or Leia.”
 
Ben stepped out of his hiding spot then and walked forward as the embrace ended. “You gonna be all right here, kid?” Han asked.
 
“Yes,” she answered, “I think so. Will I see Leia again?”
 
“Sure, she visits here now and then. I mean,” he gestured towards Ben as he approached, “our son is here. Star pupil, right, Luke?” There was a touch of sarcasm.

Ben set his gaze in a glare as Han laughed it off, “No hugs from you then either, huh? You doing all right?”
 
“Fine.” Ben was short.
 
Han tried to keep his smile. He offered, “Brought you a new friend. Ceres Mandon, this is Ben Solo. He can help show you the ropes of this Force thing when Luke’s busy with the others. Right, Ben?”
 
Ben sighed and crossed his arms. “Yeah.”
 
Luke was frowning at that. Ben could sense his discomfort. “I can help. You have problems controlling your emotions, right? Or how the Force works with it?”
 
Hesitantly, she nodded. “Yeah, I can help.”
 
“Ben was a regular terror when he was younger.”
 
He continued to scowl as Han went on, “There was so much spilled milk when we tried to switch him to the bottle.”
 
It earned a giggle from Ceres and Han’s grin widened some, “You can imagine, can’t you? Leia got it figured out—she’s the Force sensitive one, not me. Somehow the kid’s more her than me—except for my ruggedly handsome looks.”
 
“Dad!”
 
Luke just canted his head, a touch of a smirk on his lips. “Anyway, I’ve got to get going.”
 
Ben stepped forward, to Luke’s side, “Already?” Despite how cold he’d acted, he always hated to see Han go. He never stayed. He never spent any time.
 
“Yeah kid. I’ll see you later.”
 
He never did. Ben’s face fell. “You take care of’em,” he said to Luke, and Luke waved as Han left them.

Ben’s anger pulsed in the Force. Ceres’s anxiety followed, picking up on the anger. Luke tried to force calm out from himself and he reached for both of their hands. “Come now,” he said to them, “We’ll need to give Ceres a tour,” he said to Ben. Perhaps it was time he did give him someone to look after; a responsibility might be just what Ben needed, and he could connect with this one.

 

[Lucyfer]

Sparring
​

Ceres Mandon lived in a state of controlled fear—as controlled as she could make it. Meditation was something she was already an expert on, as were many of the things that Luke taught her. She learned it through the years of isolation, but she tried to follow his lead so that when others approached her, she did not harm them. Breathing techniques became important. To focus on them, and not what was said, was important.
 
Yet, it didn’t help Myka when the young girl talked casually with Ceres about live before. About parents. The spark of emotion sent Myka into the nearest tree. She did not die, but she was badly injured.
 
After that, everyone kept their distance.
 
Everyone, of course, except for Luke and Ben.

Ben came one day, masking his presence, and crouched in front of her while she meditated with her back to a tree. She didn’t know he was there, until he reached out and prodded her forehead with his finger.

Her eyes shot open as the Force shot out from her, but Ben held his ground, firmly rooted by his own strength. A lazy grin came to his face as her heart raced. “Luke’s teachings aren’t helping you much, are they?”
 
She set her jaw, but then looked down as she shook her head. “Okay. My turn.” He took her arm and pulled her.

“What are you—”

“You just made a lightsaber, right? We’re going to spar.” He pulled her along towards the temple. Luke was too busy with the youngest.
 
“I don’t see how that’s going to help.”
 
“Trust me,” he said, “It helped me. Sparring. Luke’s only teaching you how to handle your emotions when you’re calm. This will help you keep that control when you’re not calm. Not inside, anyway.” On he walked, taking them into the temple and towards the rooms, “You’ll have to learn when your life is on the line.”
 
“Luke wouldn’t like this idea of yours….”
 
“Luke told me to help you.” He reminded.
 
They paused in the hallway of rooms, and he gestured, “Go on.” So, she walked to her room and came out with the sleek silver hilt. Ben already had his saber on him, a dark metal that contained a blue blade within, albeit a shaky blade.
 
They walked into what could have served as a grand entrance hall, a ball room, or any sort of room for grand operations and Ben lit his blade first. “Ready?”

He didn’t wait for Ceres to say yes. He lunged forward immediately, and she had to move as her lightsaber took life in her hand. He followed her step with a turn and a slice, barely blocked by her own saber. He pressed the advantage, stronger in the Force and stronger physically and nearly knocked her off her feet with his press. She had to maneuver awkwardly to keep from burning herself with her own saber.
 
The focus was there, however, pressed into every inch of herself. Ben could feel it as the Force clung to her, rather than moved out from her. It wasn’t trying to shove him away, it was moving her quicker, it was letting her read.
 
Ceres was finding the steps that Ben was taking easier to understand, even though they were erratic. It was best not to engage, she was quickly learning as she kept backstepping to avoid his wild slashes. ‘There is a pattern.’ It was an insane pattern, wild and strong, but it was there as he threw everything behind his attempts.
 
And he was reading her.

A wall collided with her back before she realized what she’d done, and she threw her blade up quickly to block as Ben targeted her again and deadlocked it. He pushed close and Ceres retreated as far into the wall as she could.
 
It started to crack behind her.
 
It started to crumble.
 
“Do you see?” Ben spoke between gritted teeth. “Do you feel that? You’re stressed, you’re panicked, you’re afraid…and you’re focusing it.”
 
They were immediately interrupted by Luke and the swing of his green blade, separating the pair of them. Ceres slid down the wall. “BEN.”
 
Ben stepped back, looking both angry and chastened as he let his blade fade away. “Go outside. Now.” Luke demanded and Ben turned away, but he did so slowly so he could listen to the conversation.
 
“Are you okay?” Luke asked, offering his hand to Ceres.
 
She didn’t take it this time, but pulled herself up slowly, “I think…he was helping.” The green blade vanished and she put it to its place on her belt. “I was feeling…but it wasn’t destroying anything around me.”
 
Luke looked a bit surprised. It was true—he’d rushed there when he felt the clash of the emotions from the temple. “That was because you were in danger. The Force will react to protect you, Ceres.”
 
“But I felt it.” She insisted, as if it were something she had done and wasn’t just victim to, as usual. “It was different.”
 
Luke could agree with that. She hadn’t been in combat before—not true combat. He’d set her up to spar, but not with her lightsaber. “Yes, it was a situation you haven’t been in before, but you are not ready. You or Ben could have been severely hurt.” And he didn’t want to explain that to Leia—that her son was playing too rough with Ceres and had an entire temple fall on his head.
 
“But—”

“Ceres,” he spoke gently, but firmly, “This was a good experiment, and I will thank Ben for it, but you both need to be more careful with the Force. You should not let your emotions guide it, that is what we are working on. Remember?”
 
“I remember…,” a sigh parted her lips.

Then, without a word of warning to Luke, she sprinted down the path Ben had left, and caught up with him, catching his arm and pulling him back, taking him by surprise. He stumbled into an awkward embrace and felt the hair on his head rise, along with the hems of his clothing. “Thank you.”
 
He smirked as she quickly pulled away, his hair and hems going back to normal. “We’re gonna work on it.”
 
Luke, of course, caught up, and just shook his head at the two of them. ‘Children.’ But he was glad. Ben was...difficult. He didn't make friends easily. Nor did Ceres.
 

 

[Lucyfer]

Emotions
​

Slowly, Ben Solo made progress on Ceres’s condition. She was soon comfortable hanging around the other padawans, and managed to maintain her cool.
 
Yet, that was the problem.


She was starting to become as lifeless as the others around him. He seemed to be the only one to sense how wrong it was, how eerie it was. His conversations with Snoke seemed to be the only thing that kept him sane. Human.

Even so, every time he stormed off, it was always Ceres that followed after him.

It was always her guards that faltered when she was away from the others, and it was the only indication to Ben that he hadn’t lost her. Not yet. Her concern and her anxiety pressed at the back of his mind as he stood trembling in the garden. “Ben.”
 
He didn’t turn. He kept his back to her. “He’s wrong.” His fists were clenched so tight that his short nails nearly drew blood. “What would he even know, though?”
 
“Maybe enough,” she said, and that was when Ben turned to see her. Arms crossed. Anxious. He didn’t soften his gaze any.

“You explain it, then.” She thought too much anyway. “If emotions give us power, why should we avoid using them?”

“You know what I’m going to say.”

“Say it anyway.”
 
“They cause chaos. If I weren’t suppressing my fears now—”
 
Always fear. Always afraid to feel, and so every emotion stirred up fear. “We shouldn’t be learning to suppress!” Kylo snapped. She didn’t wince. She was afraid of many things, but not him. Never him. “We should learn to control them and master them, not…deny them.”
 
“Why?”
 
“Because,” he wasn’t sure how to put it, too young to truly have the words, “because they feel good. Because it feels worse to suppress them and deny them. Because every time Luke tells me my anger is wrong, I just become angrier. I’ve been learning how to channel it instead, Ceres.”
 
Her eyes studied his face and he moved forward. “You can feel how angry I am, but I’m not cause any harm, am I?”
 
“No….”
 
“Wouldn’t you like to feel that, too?”
 
It was a stupid question and he knew it, but he had to ask it. He had to see her discomfort. He had to hear her say, “Yes,” as she looked away from him.
 
“You’d like to be able to hug people without worrying if you’ll hurt them with the Force, wouldn’t you? You’d like to be happy without throwing things around you.”
 
“Of course I would!” Happiness felt good, until the storm of emotions reminded her why she wasn’t allowed that. Why she wasn’t allowed to cry. Why she wasn’t allowed anything.
 
Her snap was a moment’s weakening in the walls. “I’m learning. I’ll teach you.”
 
“You’re learning from Snoke.”
 
“So?”
 
“I don’t like him.”
 
“You don’t know him. You just know Luke’s opinion. You should meet him.”
 
She shook her head. “But…I’ll learn.”

 

[Lucyfer]

Padawans
​

It was night when the screams and shouts reached Ceres, disturbing her meditation. She opened her eyes as she heard the rushing of footsteps and felt the panic all around. She remained calm and lifted from her bed, bare feet touching the cold stone floor. She exited her room, lightsaber at her hip, and walked.
 
Why would she be afraid, when the chaos seemed to be coming from Ben?
 
Even through the Force she recognized his emotions and followed it to him…only to find herself stopping short as she stared down at several corpses, and Ben holding a brilliant red lightsaber.
 
A cracked and broken thing.
 
She looked into the cracked and broken eyes in the darkness, lit up by the red.
 


There were seconds in silence.

There were rushing footsteps and shouts for Luke.

“What are you doing?”

“I gave them a choice.”

Ceres didn’t ask what it was. She waited, hand not once going to grip her lightsaber.
 
“I told them they could renounce the Jedi and join me, or die Jedis.”

Silence, again, stretched. Ceres was blank before him, as emotionless as any Jedi, and he demanded, “Will you join them?” It was what he expected, in spite of everything.

Her eyes studied his face in the silence. For once, he truly could not read her—not even fear. It nearly made him afraid, until she asked: “Why?”
 
“Because they’re wrong. Darth Vader tried to destroy the Jedi to prevent their chaos, and now they’re rising up again. It’ll bring ruin to us all if they come back. You’re from Coruscant—you should know! Your parents loved the Jedi, didn’t they? And yet, look at what they did to you…look how you’ve been punished.”

There were a thousand words on her tongue.

She agreed with him.
 
She did not agree with his methods.
 
She was not willing to die.
 
She was afraid. More afraid than she’d ever been, in truth, but she had learned one thing from Luke, from her family, from her entire life: how to hide the truth.
 
“You know I’m right.”
 
Footsteps finally joined them and Ceres looked to the floor as she heard several lightsabers illuminate the room. “Ceres,” it was a plea for someone to finally be on his side, to finally understand.
 
She couldn’t deny him that. He had been there when she was alone—and she knew how painful loneliness was. He was going to need her. “You’re right,” her voice was barely above a whisper.

A smile lit on his face, and Ceres couldn’t deny a bit of happiness at seeing at, at knowing she was the reason for it. However, it faltered almost as quickly as it had come. “You have to prove it,” he told her, and somehow she knew what he was going to ask. It was going to be enough to stand aside. “You have to help me get rid of the Jedi.”
 
“Ceres!” Someone called out to her, “What are you doing?” It was Myka.
 
“She’s going sith.” An elder who knew the word hissed.
 
‘No. Not Sith, we’re not Sith.’ With a twitch of the wrist, the lightsaber came to her hand. She wanted to ask him to take it back, but then she’d be standing with the Jedi, wouldn’t she?
 
Her hand shook as she let the blade illuminate.
 
“Go get Luke,” said the elder and when Ceres turned she saw Myka running off, and a boy standing before them with an orange saber in his hands.
 
“Denounce the Jedi,” Ben stated, “Or die with the rest.”
 
“Never!” Snapped the boy with the orange saber.
 
He, like all the others, fell.

But Luke escaped. Perhaps Myka warned him—they never found out. Myka was cut down from behind with an easy slash from Ceres herself.

 

[Lucyfer]

Jealousy
​

“You must destroy who you were.”
 
Unlike Kylo Ren, as he now called himself, the parents of Ceres Mandon were not difficult to find. They were on Coruscant, blissfully unaware of anything their first child did. That was, until they found her on their doorstep in black, with Kylo Ren at her side.

“Ceres?”

The shocked name escaped her father’s lip before the red saber went through his throat.

A scream came from within as the blade vanished. A push of the Force and the man fell backwards into the house. The blonde teenager stepped over him and looked to her mother. She had backed up to grab a knife from the sink, and Mira instantly grasped it with the Force. “You remember me, too?”

Fear and panic were all Mira felt. No apologies. No guilt. ‘Selfish.’ She had not loved them for a long time and she twisted her mother’s wrist to urge the knife her mother meant to use against her, on the woman.
 
“MOM!”
 
Mira’s heart thudded to a halt and she released the woman to turn her wide green eyes on a girl of ten. Blonde hair. Blue eyes.
 
Not Force sensitive.
 
“You didn’t tell me you had a sister,” Kylo noted.
 
Mira hadn’t known. She’d been thrown away young, but it was realistic, wasn’t it? Her parents wanted to be parents. “Sister?” The other spoke. Apparently she hadn’t known, either.
 
Black rage spread through Mira’s veins, but it all remained within. “Please…Ceres, please. Let’s sit. Talk. This is your sister, Prospera.”
 
“What’s going on?” Young Prospera asked.
 
“Mira,” Kylo touched her arm. He then recoiled.
 
Mira smiled. “You replaced me.” There was a bitter laugh in her words. “Did you even know where I was?”
 
“It’s not—”
 
“—what it looks like?” Mira asked, and walked further into the house, to where her mother stood by the sink. Mira saw her fingers tighten around the blade, but all she did was reach out and brush her hand by her mother’s cheek.
 
It was enough. The thrum of thoughts came forward. “But it is.” Mira could read the disappointment. She could read the past and the longing. She could read how Prospera was everything they had ever wanted.
 
They purged their sins by taking care of that daughter. Protecting her. Raising her.
 
Mira didn’t even look at Prospera as she stretched her hand out towards her. There was a gasp, a pop, and then a scream—but not from Prospera. From Mira’s mother, who watched as Prospera’s neck was broken.
 
The blade embedded itself near Mira’s neck, before Mira reacted and broke her mother’s head open against the countertop.
 
Stillness and silence followed.
 
“I’m sorry.” Kylo managed to say. “Mira, I’m….”

Mira shook her head. She didn’t want to hear it. She didn’t have words to respond, to express, so she only said, “I did what was required.” And then turned back. “Let’s go back to Snoke and let him know.”

 

[Lucyfer]

Kids Will Be Terrifying
​

Before the First Order, Korriban served as the hub of activity for the wayward Knights Kylo and Mira. There had been a third, Mathias, but he had not made it long.
 
He had not made it long enough to get a new name, though Mira would never forget his old one. Nor would Kylo.
 
Lightsabers and armor were already had on Korriban, but ships were finally coming along. They were sent to Korriban to prepare them, after the Mathias incident. It was punishment of a sort, but also quite beneficial. Neither Kylo nor Mira wanted the standard ship that they'd been offered, so this finally gave them the time to start modifying. Kylo Ren had pilot's blood in his veins, and Mira Ren already had an understanding that she would live in her ship on most days.

And Mira would be glad to be gone.

Kylo and Snoke had promised her many things. The only promise she cared for was the promise of control. She learned with Kylo the art of combat. The poor boy could not teach her just how he managed to channel his fury so that the Force didn't run wild around him. Whenever Mira tried to lose control of her rage, it backfired—but suppressing it kept it weak. Weaker than Kylo.

Snoke's training was...different. Half a hundred times she'd exploded in anger when he calmly spoke of what he had seen. Half a hundred times she'd been tossed aside like a rag doll. Most recently, she’d endured the worst mind violation she ever cared to experience, thanks to Mathias—never again.
 
Yet, she was getting better. When Snoke had acted against her in his fury, she had fought him off for a while, before Kylo yelled at her and she relented. She knew when he tried to get into her head and she could give him a fight. It hurt, but it was improvement of a sort. The better she got with her mind, the better she could act. Someone once said that enough fake smiles became real. Lies became truth.
 
But Mira was still aware of what was around her. She did not lose herself to her lies, nor to her work. That was a skill Luke had taught her—alertness, even in meditation. Work was like that, as wrenches worked without her hands on them, and her hands worked with the wiring system to make sure all the shields ran smoothly from end to end. Yet, she still felt it when a new presence neared that was not one of the creatures of Korriban. It was subtle, but it was there, and near.
 
Mira slowly let the wrenches lower to the ground, and she crawled out from under her ship. She listened, but heard nothing, so she simply followed the flow as best she could around her ship. The ramp was open, that was not surprising. What was surprising were the new trails of snow on the pad…and the feet were larger than Kylo’s.
 
Mira crept into her ship, and towards the room she was considering as storage.

Then a vibroblade was at her neck. “One more move and you lose your head.” Masculine. Behind her.

He slammed into a wall and the blade only nicked her. She turned to stare at him and folded her arms over her chest, raising a single blonde eyebrow at the man with the short black hair and tanned skin. Definitely not from Korriban with that sun-kissed skin. He also looked beautifully petrified, blue eyes darting about.
 
“Who are you?”
 
His eyes met hers. “How did you do that?”
 
“You’re not in a position to ask questions,” he was struggling, though. She wondered if he was aware. “Who are you?”

 “Ivan. Ivan Dulchellon, at your service, if you’ll let me down.”

“No.” Mira stated. She liked this one. “What were you doing here?” His struggles grew, but Mira just added pressure, little by little, to keep him in place.
 
“Voids, how are you even—what are you, like, 16?”
 
“15.”
 
“Voids!”
 
“Answer me.”

 “Listen, kid.”

“You’re only 17. Be careful who you call kid, smuggler.”
 
He blinked.
 
“I can read your mind. I already know why you’re here. Just say it, before I hand you over to my temperamental friend.”

 Now he started to talk, “This planet is supposed to be rich in artifacts, I just wanted to get a few and sell—that’s all, I didn’t know anyone was here, but when I saw…well…I figured you had already gotten the best artifacts so I came to look in the ship. What are you doing here?”

“This is my home for the moment.”
 
“But Korriban—”

“Sith artifacts. You know of Sith and Jedi. You know of the Force. You know I’m using it on you now. What do you think I am?”

“Sith?”
 
“I’m not. I’m a Knight of Ren.” Snoke talked of blending light and dark…but they still seemed rather Sith to Mira. “And you are actually putting up a decent fight. You knew I was coming without hearing me, didn’t you?”
 
She let him go then, and his feet landed lightly on the ground. “Instinct.”

 “Force.”
 
A smirk touched his lips. He almost called her insane, but figured that was a bad idea, considering she’d just had him pinned to a wall. “You could join us.”

“What about your temperamental friend?”
 
“He’ll agree.”

 “He won’t be jealous?”

“We’re not an item.” She corrected the assumption. “Friends.”
 
“So he’s gay?”
 
Mira slammed her hand against her forehead, “Hey, just checking. I don’t want to get between any—”
 
“Knights avoid relationships that weaken them. We will not and will never be anything you could get between.” If Mira only knew.
 
“Sure, kid. But what incentive do I have to join?”

“You walk out of this ship alive.”
 
“You’ll kill me if I refuse?”
 
“We have enemies, one of them happens to be a smuggler. If he caught wind of where we were, we’d have you to blame regardless of your innocence. So, yes. Risk management.”
 
“You’re bluffing.”
 
“I killed my parents and sister. You’re nothing to me.”
 
Kevan wanted to call the bluff. He wanted to, but looking at her, he knew she wasn’t bluffing and that terrified him more than anything. Not only that, there was the implication those weren’t the only ones she’d killed. “They weren’t much to you either, huh?”
 
“No.”
 
“I have…I have a life.”
 
“You have a job for a smuggler that you’re in debt to. We will get you out of debt.”
 
“Through murder.”
 
“Basically.”
 
It was then they both sensed the approach of Kylo Ren. “Well?”

 “Yeah. Sure. Just tell me the rules and I’m yours.” He was dead if he failed his mission. He was dead if he didn’t join the knights. But if this kid could learn to control the Force as she did—if she had this ship, and seemed so confident, well…how bad could this life be, really? Besides, he had contacts. He could help spruce this place up. Show these kids what they were missing.
 
“Mira? Is everything all right?”
 
In stepped Kylo, and his eyes fell upon the man with the vibroblade. He reached out to strangle him, but it was paused by Mira’s own use of the Force.

“This is our new recruit.” Mira told Kylo.

 

[Lucyfer]

Force Field
​

“Fine, but he’s your responsibility.”
 
Mira intended to do better by Kevan, but she was not teaching him on Korriban. She made her ship flyable before loading Kevan up and telling Kylo they were going to Naboo. “Why are we going to Naboo?” Kevan complained. He was more annoyed that he had to take the co-pilot’s seat.
 
“It has more life.”
 
It was all that mattered for someone like Kevan, who’s Force sensitivity was not a curse to his life. He could have gone ages without ever knowing it—just being oddly lucky, or quick when he needed to be, or sneaky. In her time with Luke, she’d studied a lot. Learned a lot. She could logically understand the Force, for all the good it did her.
 
The hangar was easy to find, and Mira led Kevan not into the city, but out of it—far out of it, towards the lakes and the never-ending fields of greenery and flowers. “Really, Mira? If you wanted a date, I would have brought a picnic basket.”

“This isn’t a date,” she said, pausing when they reached the forest line. “Go sit under that tree.”

He sighed, but did as told, sitting cross-legged under the tree as Mira sat opposite him, under another tree. “How is this going to teach me to throw people against walls?”
 
“You have to understand how to grab people like that.” Mira told him. “You can’t feel it, because the Force protects you.”
 
“Like a…Force…Field?”
 
Mira glared. Kevan did not wipe the grin from his face. “Yes.” She relented. “Kylo and I lack that to the same degree that you have it.”
 
“Some good it did me.”

“You would have been knocked unconscious if it didn’t protect you. All living things have it, but it is stronger in others…in those more attuned to the Force.”

“Everyone?"
 
“Everyone.”
 
“So everyone could use the Force?”
 
“That’s my theory. Kylo doesn’t believe it.” Mira sighed, “The Force is in everything. It is all around us, at all times. The Jedi Council used to have a way to count the midi-chlorians that indicated a person’s Force sensitivity, but we no longer have it.”
 
“Midi-what?”
 
“The spark of life that communicates between a person and the Force, telling the Force how to respond to its will, and listening to the Force to relay that information to the person. When I attacked you on Korriban, the midi-chlorians picked up on the fluctuation in the Force, and used your own natural sensitivities to protect you.”

“Uh…huh.” How old was she again? Too young to be saying so many things he didn’t understand. “So how is it different for you?”
 
“When I was young, that field didn’t…stay passive. Kylo and I had fields that lashed out to defend us.” From a young age they were both causing destruction. The difference was, Kylo had parents who knew what to do. She didn’t.
 
“I don’t see it acting that way.”

 “We’ve learned to control it over time.” Kylo better than she. She didn’t so much control it as did everything in her power to keep herself calm and unfeeling so that the field didn’t pick up on it and try to act on those emotions. “It is easier for us to feel the flow of the Force because of it. You, however, are shielded from it. You have to reach out, to feel beyond the field. So, close your eyes. Focus only on breathing and the movement of the wind.”

Kevan did, however grudgingly. He had to give this a chance—even if he was ‘different’ from Mira.
 
Mira shut her eyes as well, but her meditation was different. She reached out, felt the life in each thing, and tried to bring it to the surface. Dew lit. The grass swayed to her command. Living things began to move up from the soil, or landed on the nearby branches. She wanted Kevan to feel it, and that meant making it as obvious as possible—putting it right at the tip of his fingers.
 
She even reached out for him, pulling gently at that which was within, until his eyes fluttered open at the queer sensation within him. By then, at least an hour had passed.
 
He saw the world around him, pulsing with life. Worms crawled over his fingertips, and he hadn’t noticed them. Birds were nearby, and the grass was moving to a gentle breeze he couldn’t feel.
 
And still that feeling was at the tips of his fingers. He shook the worms off as he saw all the dew in the air, and he reached for it.

The dew came to him, though, as his hand reached for it.

It was so surprising, that he lost the focus he’d barely realized he had, and the dew instead parted for him. “Mira?”
 
And the girl just smiled, before opening her eyes to meet his, “These are the first steps, Kevan.”
 
“How does…how does this lead to…,” to violence. He couldn’t say it, though.
 
“Death is the inevitability of Life. The dualism is inherent in anything…like a fire. It has its good uses. If you only ever knew it to provide warmth, you would be surprised to learn it can burn homes.” She’d been surprised the Force could do anything good.
 
“Fair,” he’d give her that. “So where’d you learn all this?”
 
“Luke Skywalker,” she answered, letting her focus waver and then fall away.
 
“Not Snoke?”
 
"He has taught me other things, but not this. You’ll need many teachers besides me to learn all there is to know on the Force.” She pushed herself up from the ground and Kevan followed suit. “We’ll come back here for a while, until it is easy for you to feel the Force and manipulate the environment around you.”
 
“So, how long till I get a lightsaber?”
 
“Months. We’re not rushing this.”
 
Kevan groaned. “Bet Kylo would.”
 
“Yes. He would. It came easy for him and he pushes quickly.”
 
“You don’t think it’d come easy for me?”
 
“I don’t think it is smart to move that quickly.” One wrong move and he’d hurt himself. “You’re dealing with something very powerful, Kevan. If you try to do too much, you will hurt yourself.”
 
“But Force Field.”
 
“It’s not that simple. It responds, but not always how you want it to.”
 
“But it’d protect me, right?”
 
“No. Not always. Sometimes it will hurt you.”
 
“Crappy shield then.”
 
“Sometimes.”

 

[Lucyfer]

Ewoks
​

Kevan knew what the Knights of Ren were there to do on Endor—retrieve Darth Vader’s helmet. He knew the ewoks were a primitive and uncivilized race. Even so, he had hoped they could be reasoned with. He could speak their language—after the Han Solo story, smugglers made a point to learn what ewoks had to say so they didn’t end up being eaten alive by the teddy bears.
 
“Kevan,” Kylo spoke to him as soon as they had landed and stepped out of their ships. “Do you remember what I told you?”

“About the link? Yeah,” Mira had been showing him how to make it work, training him to open his mind without losing it. To think and read thoughts at the same time, to act without letting the additional thoughts distract. It was rather difficult to multi-task that way.

“Be ready.”
 
“I’m sure we can talk our way through this,” Kevan wanted to hope, anyway. They were grossly outnumbered.

Mira didn’t seem as optimistic as he did, nor Kylo, who walked in the center as they approached the ewok village.

As soon as they approached, they were greeted by teddy bears holding spears, and one demanding to know their business.
 
“Hello. We are here for the charred Jedi helmet,” it was the best way Kevan could think to phrase it. He knew Vader had received a Jedi funeral, “It belonged to Darth Vader, or Anakin Skywalker.”

They knew it, that much was clear in the way they shook their spears and began to threaten. Kevan began to speak again, quicker, trying to explain to them that it belonged to Kylo Ren—he was the grandson. He came to bury it. It wasn’t working though, and when one nearly pierced him through with the spear, he knew it was game over.
 
He felt the tingle at the back of his mind.

Mira was the one to initiate it, tilting her head back and up slightly. Her eyes remained open, but for a few seconds they were absolutely dead—blank—beneath the mask.

Then her mind was flooded with Kylo Ren and Kevan Ren’s thoughts. Then what they saw, layered over what she saw. Mira would serve as the anchor, the best of the three at the mind games. Kylo’s voice was the loudest, roaring like her own thoughts. It fed her mind as if she commanded it, and it fed Kevan’s, too.

Lightsabers lit.

The ewoks didn’t scatter in fear—they were warriors to the end, and the three Knights followed the single command to get the helmet, each seeing all that the other saw. It was beautifully organized, despite the chaos that could have been caused. Mira’s anchor blended the thoughts coherently, and the strategies moved at rapid-fire between the three.

Their Forces were used in tandem. The life on Endor fed it, and the fear and anger of the ewoks added to their strength.

It was seamless.
 
It was brutal.
 
It was like they were all literally seeing red.
 
Exhaustion played no part, nor did adrenaline, nor did injury, though the Knights took their fair share. They held each other up—mind over matter, or perhaps, Force.

 It wasn’t until what seemed like the last one fell, that all of those things began to take over.

Mira broke the connection only to collapse to all fours, gasping for air and closing her eyes tight.
 
Kevan shook his head as if coming out of a daze. He moved a hand to a tree to hold himself up, and found it slick with blood. He looked down and saw an ewok bleeding out beneath the tree. He immediately recoiled and almost tripped over his own feet.
 
Kylo seemed the only one not affected, for he walked to where Vader’s helmet was being kept in a shrine, and took it from under its glass casing. “Voids!” Kevan exclaimed, “What did—how did—I—Mira?” He almost stepped on her hand.
 
“We got what we came here for,” Kylo stated, holding the helmet under his arm. “Mira, you did well.” Mira didn’t respond. She continued trying to remember how to breathe. “Carry her,” Kylo told Kevan.
 
He didn’t disobey that, though he wiped the blood off on his black pants before picking her up. He also unlatched her helmet, thinking that would help her. “Kylo, we could have just stolen it. I could have stolen it. Do you realize…do you realize what we’ve done?”
 
“Destroyed an enemy. Destroyed supporters of the Jedi.” He stated, walking by them and back towards the ship, paying attention only to the ewoks when they were in his path. He stepped over them.
 
Kevan gaped. He felt his emotions starting to slip. He felt blinding rage towards Kylo Ren. “WE’VE COMMITED GENOCIDE!” Kevan screamed, and Kylo paused. “DO YOU UNDERSTAND THAT?!”
 
“I’m sure there are ewoks on other planets.”

“NO!” Kevan didn’t, but he could feel it now, starting to crush him. The death overrode the life in the Force, and it was clammy. Terrible. “They’re…they’re primitive. They don’t travel! They haven’t….” Despite the introduction of them to the universe, they didn’t really have means to leave on their own.

“Other cities. What does it matter? They were our enemy. I’d destroy Endor completely if I had a Death Star.”
 
Kevan was about to say more, but he felt Mira tap his shoulder, “I can stand.”
 
He let her, but she leaned against him. He heard her whisper, “Shut up,” and then felt her tug him forward to follow after Kylo, who had kept walking away after explaining that he’d destroy Endor.
 
He remembered again who Mira was. What she’d done. Still, “You can’t be all right with this.”
 
She didn’t answer in yes or no, only, “It is better than the alternative.” Her head tilted slightly, “You need to learn to hide better.”
 
“Why? Aren’t we…I thought we were going to make the galaxy better.”
 
“We are.” Mira wanted to believe it, so much. “Under the Jedi…this galaxy would be terrible.”
 
“How is this helping?”
 
“People need something to rally behind. Darth Vader put the Jedi down.”

Kevan still felt bewildered. He still wasn’t sure this was right, “We could have stolen it.”

They were at her ship by then, and she pushed away from him, unsteady on her feet. He couldn’t see through the mask, but he could imagine the look on her face—one too old for how young she was. One too tired and world-weary. “Yes, we could have, but we didn’t. We killed them. All of them. You did it. I did it. Kylo did it.”

Kevan stared at her, mouth open but unable to speak. “Because to bring order we must make them fear us. When they fear us, they’ll want us on their side. Then they’ll respect us. Then, finally, we can bring peace to this universe.” Kevan wanted to argue. Mira must have known it, for she added: “The alternative for us is the Void. I don’t mean that metaphorically. I don’t mean it as a possibility. I mean it as reality.”
 
“How do you know that? Death—”
 
“Not death.”
 
Kevan shut his mouth. He waited. Sometimes if he did that, she said more. Not this time. “What do you mean?” he asked, trailing behind her.
 
Only she didn’t answer, just said, “It will get better,” in a way that was more of a ‘it must’, in the hopeless way an orphan looked upon their meager beggar’s life. The way he had—until he made it better.
 
“I’m not patient…” he muttered.

 

[Lucyfer]

Lights
​

“So this is Starkiller.”
 
The Knights were three still, for Snoke approached the First Order when it fell into the hands of General Hux. “It’s freezing for a planet that is powered by a sun.”

“It’s not finished,” Kylo reminded.

“Did you name it?”
 
“No.”

“Did you design it?”

“No! Why?”
 
“Looks like a Death Star.” Both Mira and Kevan spoke at once. They didn’t even glance at each other in surprise, and Kylo sulked between them, although it wasn’t visible beneath his mask. They just felt it.
 
“The Death Star was the most powerful weapon in the known galaxy. That isn’t an insult.”
 
“It was destroyed pretty easily.”

“This one will not be.” They were approached by an officer in all black, “You must be the Knights of Ren. General Hux is expecting you.”

“Sux?”
 
Mira pulled the cloak around Kevan’s shoulder so he fell back suddenly, head hitting the ground. She merely clasped her hands behind her back as Kylo canted his head a bit. He had not yet met General Hux, but Snoke spoke highly of him. They were near in age, Kylo knew, which made Hux’s status as General all the more interesting. “You two can stay back,” he decided he didn’t want Kevan there. He’d take Mira, but Kevan would cause trouble on his own, “I will rejoin you shortly.” Kevan was just starting to pull himself up.

“Okay,” Mira gave a nod, and grabbed Kevan’s arm to drag him along.

“Why?” He complained.
 
“I want ice cream.”
 
“Not—wait, we’re on a freezing planet—do you even feel the cold?”
 
“Do you know how heavy this armor is? It’s like a sauna in here,” Mira noted. Apparently Kevan got lucky with his, but Mira’s was layered so thick she thought she was dying sometimes.
 
Mira found her way to the mess hall without asking, skimming minds as she walked. “Niiines!” Some little trooper was yelling, dark of skin and dark of eyes. Mira glanced to him, feeling a subtle tremor around him as he pulled on the arms of another young trooper. The area was full of young would-be Stormtroopers, and leaning on a wall watching them was a woman in white armor with a red strip over one shoulder, indicating her status. Her helmet was off, and she was glowering at the children as she ate some animal’s fried leg. “I wanted that!”
 
“We’ll split it, Eight-Seven.”
 
Mira turned away from them, moving to where the ice cream was and taking off her helmet as the man behind the counter eyed her warily. “Chocolate chip mint, please.”
 
Kevan took off his own helmet then, taking a deep breath once it was off. “Anything for you?”
 
“No, she’s the lunatic,” he said, and the man got the ice cream, and handed it to Mira, who then left the mess hall to eat, of course, outside. She sat in the hangar on her ship, with Kevan leaning on the ship besides her just shaking his head at the insanity. The cold wind was blowing in. “So, seriously, why?”
 
“I want this to work. The First Order. I can’t have you insulting the leader.”
 
Kevan raised an eyebrow, “Snoke’s the leader, isn’t he?”
 
“He didn’t create this.”
 
“Yeah, but he’s leading it.”
 
Mira shook her head, “Not the point,” she said, “This can work.”
 
“Done your research?” A single nod. “All right,” he sighed. He’d have to trust that, for now. He didn’t trust much. Not anymore. Not that he’d trusted much before, he was a smuggler, but the Knights of Ren gave him more reason to doubt others.
 
He shouldn’t trust Mira. She was a good liar. Except, of course, she shivered in the cold. “You believe in this more than us, huh?” The shiver stopped immediately, body tensing. It was always difficult to get her to be honest on these matters, but he’d figured out since Endor—she wasn’t on board. Not 100%. He still hadn’t figured out why. “C’mon. Kylo and Snoke are busy. You planning to jump ship and get employed with the First Order?”
 
“You can’t quit the Knights.”
 
“You can quit anything.”
 
“No. You can’t.”


“Why not? The FO is going to be our allies, right?”

Silence.
 
“You don’t quit the knights. The penalty is the void.” Again with that.
 
“Okay, story time, kid.” She glared up at him for that, “There’s something to how you know the Void’s real, and I need the details. So, spill it.”
 
Her lips tightened into a line. He could feel the chaos of the Force around her then, and knew this was a topic that had to be difficult. “There was a knight before you. He didn’t get far, or last long enough to even become a Ren—but he was with us. Mathias Ren.” Though he’d never been ‘Ren’, she called him it all the same. “We found him on Korriban. He’d been living in the ruins. Force Sensitive. He was called there, he said. We took him in, helped to hone his skills, but,” Mira shook her head, “When he was forced to confront his light, he couldn’t hold it together. He failed.”
 
Kylo had taken care of it.
 
Mira dared to stand up to Kylo on Mathias’s behalf, and was dragged before Snoke with Mathias. “Snoke saw our connection. He understood Mathias was weakening me.” More ice cream. “He destroyed Mathias’s mind before us, until there was nothing.”
 
“What…?”
 
Mira let go of her spoon and held out her hand, palm up. Kevan didn’t even question it, he moved his hand to hover over hers.
 
He jerked forward when the thought entered his mind.
 
Or rather, the lack of thought.
 
The literal nothing, except for a low howl that sounded so humanly inhuman, like the cry of a soul literally being crushed, life force extinguished, with the soul aware. His tan lightened several degrees and he stared at Mira.

“It was a mercy to kill him,” and she’d done it. Snoke deemed it light to be put out. Hers to do, and warned her against finding other light. “But he let me know what he could do.” That was not a memory of Mathias’s she’d gleaned. That had been her own mind, thrown into that swirling chaos before being brought right back. She’d seen it. Known it.
 
She had no plans of becoming as hollow as Mathias, and she was still not sure her mind was wholly put back together. She was working on that, though. She served Snoke and Kylo, but she would make sure that was her own will. Her own fear.
 
“Voids….”
 
He might have said more, or asked more, but Kylo Ren came storming back to them looking like an angry wraith. They both looked to him, and when he paused before them, he was silent for a few seconds.
 
Then, “General Sux is an incompetent and unfeeling narcissist who will be the death of the Order.”
 
And Kevan lost it to a fit of laughter.

 

[Lucyfer]

Puns
​

“…aren’t you on a desert planet?”
 
The question came from the hologram of Kevan, who was to the left of Mira. Kylo’s hologram was to the right, and both of them in front of the fire that burned on the sandy ground. Mira was wrapped in black furs. “When the sun goes down, it freezes,” Mira answered him.
 
Since joining the First Order, the Knights had been divided up more often than not. Mira was sent out to Wild Space, both to map it and to find untapped resources. Kevan was infiltrating everything, and Kylo—well, Kylo was their man in the First Order, their representative. As such, he was clearly on a spaceship, comfortable.

Kevan looked to be in some luxurious hotel room, no doubt wining and dining some diplomat. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Kevan, nature doesn’t care if it doesn’t make sense. It does whatever the fuck it wants. If you would come out here, you’d understand that.”
 
Kevan snickered. Mira was upset, if she was cursing. “Well, at least it isn’t hot as Sith anymore.”

The atrocious pun caused both Kylo Ren and Mira to groan as if in literal pain. “If you need some warmth, I hear tauntauns are good. They’re Luke warm.”

Kylo stretched out his hand, but he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t choke Kevan through the hologram, much as he wanted to, “Aw, come on, I’m a genius. You’re just sandy,” he frowned, “No, that’s not a good replacement for salty.”
 
“One day I will be able to hurt you through the hologram, Kevan.”

“Yeah, yeah, and one day General Sux will admit he’s a vampire and just wants to destroy all suns. Seriously, who named Starkiller? They weren’t being subtle.”

“Death Star wasn’t subtle.”
 
“It’d be like calling a lightsaber, ‘Death Stick’.” And then Kevan’s eyes lit up, “Can we—”
 
“No,” Mira and Kylo both.

“But lightsaber sounds so…Jedi. Aren’t we supposed to destroy our lights anyway?”

“Just don’t question it, Kevan,” Kylo sighed.

“Glowsticks?”

“No.” Denied again.
 
“Anyway,” Kevan stretched out, “I wanted to invite you two out here.”
 
“Why?”
 
“Because I haven’t seen either of you in forever?”
 
Neither seemed convinced.
 
“Well, I can’t Force you to come,” another groan from Kylo, “but if you don’t, I will spam your radios with bad puns until you agree, and you know how upset Snoke will be if you break off your means of communication.”
 
“Mira, why did you find him?”
 
“I didn’t know he was worse than you.” Mira sighed, “Will it be a pleasant environment?”
 
“Temperature wise, yes. And I’ll bankroll it—when was the last time you had a good meal, eh?”

“…Starkiller.”

“That’s a good meal?”

“I’ve been eating rodents and questionably non-toxic plants.”

“You know, I questioned why Snoke sent you to Wild Space, but I think I understand now,” good Force that woman was a hell of a survivor. “Yeah, you’re coming here and getting new rations. Kylo, take a break from General Ging. Tell him you have more important bizz, I’m sure he won’t mind.”
 
He wouldn’t. Kylo sighed, “What about Snoke?”
 
“His knights have to keep their bonds strong. He’ll understand.”
 
“Fine.”
 
“Fine.”
 
“When do you want us, Kevan?”
 
“About twenty hours from now. I’m on Asmeru, convincing Elegin to support the First Order. Triplets—but if we win them, we win the whole planet of Asmeru.”
 
Twenty hours later, Kevan was waiting in the hangar for them, and they arrived almost at the same time, the bat-winged ship of Kylo and sleek ship of Mira. They practically matched their ships when they stepped out, too. Kylo was a wraith in black, so much covered, but Mira wore a sleek dress that she must have bought just for the occasion, a silvery-blue color.
 
Kevan was dressed in a dark suit and he opened his arms, golden cuffs catching the light, “Mira, Kylo!” he was delighted to see them, “Welcome to the Kaleidoscope.”
 
“You’re taking us to a bar…”
 
“Are we even old enough to drink on this planet?”

 “Does that really matter?” Kevan chuckled, “Force,” he made the ‘jedi mind trick’ gesture, and turned to walk with them, Kylo to his right and Mira his left, “They’re having a karaoke night, Kylo. Figured you’d like it. You can sing your whiny emo music to an audience that is too drunk to care.”

“My music is good.”
 
“Has Hux caught you singing yet?”
 
The silence that stretched and then the bow of his head indicated that yes, in fact, Hux had caught him once. “Dude doesn’t know good music. These drunks do. C’mon,” Kevan ushered Kylo in first, “And you, Mira, are going to try coffee.”
 
“Not alcohol.”
 
“I’d rather not die.” He knew better than that. Mira needed her self-control to keep them all from dying in an explosion of Force energy.
 
They were met with pretty lights and the clinks of beverages on counters. There was also a twi’lek making love to the microphone, her sultry voice and skimpy clothing drawing many pining admirers.


 Hello from the other side!


I must have called a thousand times,
To tell you, I’m sorry
For everything that I’ve done
 
Kevan led them right to the counter and winked to the bartender, drawing her over and placing the order for himself and Mira, “And what do you want, Kylo? Fucking coke?”
 
“Yes.”
 
“Rum and coke.”
 
“No!”
 
“I’ll need to see ID….”
 
“You don’t need to see ID.” Kevan gestured.
 
“I don’t need to see ID. You’re trustworthy,” she decided, and walked off to get the drinks.
 
“I don’t like alcohol.”
 
“Have you ever had it?”
 
“No.”
 
“Then shut up and drink your rum.”
 
Kylo did, but it was obvious he didn’t like it, but Kevan’s constant chiding kept him drinking. Mira drank the coffee, and seemed to relax into the environment, enough so that Kevan noticed the subtle way the Force started to lift a few things a little bit around her, including droplets of the coffee.
 
No one seemed to notice, or if they did, they clearly thought they drank too much.
 
And, eventually, they got Kylo to go sing one of his trashy emo songs.
 
Come on and show them your love
Rip out the wings of a butterfly
For your soul, my love
Rip out the wings of a butterfly
For your soul!

The night ended late, and the Knights all stayed at Kevan’s hotel before bidding him farewell and getting back to their respective jobs—Mira with plenty of rations, and Kylo with more ways to annoy General Hux.

 

[Lucyfer]

Virginity
​

Mira was not asleep, though no one would be blamed for thinking she was as she laid atop the blankets of her bed, arm over her eyes. Kevan knew better, but still entered and took a seat on the bed besides her. She was stressed over something, but she hadn’t told him what had brought her back to Korriban for a respite.
 
An odd respite, considering how barren it all was.
 
“What are you thinking about?” Kevan asked, to distract from whatever it was.
 
He felt the focus as it was lost. Her arm moved down and she opened her eyes to look at him. She then pulled herself into a sitting position, back to wall, knees to chest. “Just the new missions from Snoke,” she answered. The new things to find. The plans for Starkiller that she now fully understood. If Kevan knew, he hadn’t thrown a fit yet.
 
He was quite against genocide. “How have you been?” All of Kevan’s missions were diplomatic. They didn’t cross paths often anymore.
 
“Good. Tried to seduce Kylo. Failed.” Mira’s expression was utterly priceless, at first shock, then amusement, and he’d swear a moment of jealousy before he said ‘failed’, but he might be imagining it. “Kylo likes blue eyes, though, so I had a chance.”
 
“Really now?” She smirked at him.
 
“Yeah. I think he’s fucking Hux, though. I hear he Sux well.”
 
If Mira had been upset, it seemed to vanish into the laughter that she hid behind her knees, pressing her face against them to try and hide how amused she was with the terrible, terrible comment. “Kylo’s…a virgin,” Mira managed to say through her own laughter.
 
“You sound so sure!”
 
“We both are. Jedi training. Snoke training.” She said, looking back up, “You’re lucky Snoke lets you fuck around.” She reached out and brushed a few fingers through his own dark hair, “Maybe you should seduce Hux. Make sure he never leaves us. Find out if he lives up to that nickname of yours.”
 
“Tempting,” Kevan said, but took her hand before she could pull it away and held it near as he reached out with his other to touch the wall besides her head, giving the illusion of trapping her there. “Or I could show you what I mean by it, Virgin.”
 
She just set her gaze into a dull stare, “You’re my apprentice,” she reminded, “If anything, you’re showing how badly you’re failing at it.” The comment was unexpected and Kevan’s hand dropped to his side, but he didn’t let her hand go.
 
“Man, not you or Kylo. I’m pretty right?”
 
“Yes, you’re pretty,” Mira said, “but I’m not interested.”
 
Kevan put on a pout, “Why?”
 
“I don’t like the idea of flings,” she didn’t like the idea of relationships all that much, but that was all thanks to the unholy Force and the fact relationships required emotion. Void only knew what would happen if she even tried to have one. “Or one night stands. Not worth it. Snoke would get angry.”
 
“We’d be safe.”
 
“Nothing is 100%.”
 
“Not even abstinence if you listen to Kylo talk about Anakin,” Kevan sighed, but relaxed back, “Fine, fine, but one day I’m going to get you and Kylo hooked up. Otherwise the two of you will end up so attached to the idea, it’ll be as if you were attached to a person.” He rose, and Mira smirked at him.

“Sure,” she said, “Good luck with that.”

“And be safe,” Kevan tossed a condom to her on his way out, which she caught instinctively, looked at it, then threw it under the nearest end table, making a mental note that she would later forget, to throw it away.

 

[Lucyfer]

Final Moments
​

‘Day 5,342, and still no signs of civilization.’

 Mira knew it hadn’t been that long, but it felt like it. She couldn’t honestly remember the last time she’d spoken to anyone as the chill air of planet 112—she numbered them—bit into the black.

The red saber was the only light in the tunnel, glinting off the beautiful crystals but casting an eerie glow on everything. Her anxiety was well-masked, but still felt as she moved through the tunnels, trying to figure out how far it went, and how many crystals there were.
 
Either way, she would finally have something to report to Snoke after literal years of roaming Wild Space. Admittedly, she’d gotten quite good at surviving.
 
And then a sudden stab of pain struck her, and Mira looked up, looked around, before she realized the pain wasn’t truly physical. ‘Who…?’ The agony was in the Force, the loss of someone dear that sparked tears that threatened to spill and freeze on her cheeks.

The confusion caused a musical hum to come from the crystals as the Force moved over them, pressing against them, from Mira.

Then the tunnel shook, and when Mira looked to find the source, she saw a worm…with a maw of very sharp teeth.
 
She might have struck out if she wasn’t already so confused by the loss. Instead, she ran back the way she’d come, ran all the way back to her ship and launched it into space to avoid being attacked by the worms she’d not attracted before. There was another disturbance then, the disturbance that came only with the loss of multiple lives, and Mira quickly reached out. “Kylo? Kylo, this is Mira Ren—what’s happened?”
 
But she was met with only dead air.
 
“Damn it.” She reached out then to Kevan instead, who did pick up her call.
 
“Mira, Starkiller was destroyed.” He said, before she could even ask.
 
“Kylo?”
 
“Alive. I think. I’m still getting repor—”
 
Both of their signals were disrupted. They shared the silence, and then, tuned to the new call.
 
Snoke.
 
A conference call between the four explained what had happened to Kylo Ren, and to Han Solo. They were called back to Korriban to meet with Snoke, to be reorganized while Kylo Ren was out of commission for his training and recovery.
 
It was expected that Mira would be set as the leader in Kylo’s absence, and set to serve with the First Order until Kylo recovered. That was, indeed, what occurred. Kevan was ordered to infiltrate the Resistance itself—no more simply spying and winning allies. Ariel and Gnaeus were tasked with uncovering secrets of the Jedi and Sith, as Luke would now have a new padawan. They would need all they could get.

 They were dismissed one by one. Mira stood last. “You felt the loss of Han Solo.” Snoke commented.

“Yes.” Mira could not deny it.

 “You were sorrowful.”

 She cast her eyes down. “I will work on the weakness, supreme leader. It was a carry-over. I am glad that he is dead. It has made Kylo Ren stronger.” She knew all the right things to say.

 Snoke only said, “Do not let your emotions interfere with your work with the First Order.” He had kept her from it, for he knew that though she suppressed most of her emotions, when they showed, she could not control them as Kylo could. Hux might find her disposition more tolerable, but not if she got angry at a diplomatic meeting. “We need all the resources we can gather now that Starkiller has been destroyed.”

 "I will not fail you, supreme leader.”

But she would.
 
Mira left to find Kevan waiting, and he clapped a hand on her back, “Welcome to civilization again!”

 “Can I go back to Wild Space? I already don’t like it.”
 
"Nah. Let me show you espresso ice cream. Then you’ll like it.”

“…is that real?”
 
“Yes.”
 
“Take me.”
 
And so the two would head off to another core rim planet, and there Mira would be introduced to espresso ice cream in a café, where the two would relax for the last time together. “So do you have any plans on getting into the Resistance?”
 
“Yeah,” he said, “I’ve already got a pseudo-identity in place. This guy Rollo met me as Sylus. I think I can convince him to let me join the Resistance.”
 
“Mm,” Mira vocalized through the ice cream freezing her tongue.
 
“What about you? Ready for the First Order?”
 
“Better than space worms.”

“What?”



“I’ll tell you another time,” she waved it off, “but let’s say that the next weapon is going to be thanks to me, and it’s not going to be a Death Star.”
 
Kevan laughed, “I don’t think Kylo will be happy.”
 
“He’s out of commission.”
 
“How long…?”
 
Mira shook her head. She looked out the window, “Hopefully not long.”
 
“Why?” When Mira looked back to him, he offered, “You’d be a good leader. Maybe better.”
 
She smiled, somber, and only said, “It’s not my place.” And added, “Kylo has the power, and the name.”
 
“Solo?”
 
“Skywalker.”
 
“Fuck them,” he said dismissively. “We’re all Ren, right? You’re as good as him.”
 
“That’s not how this works,” she said, “Hux has a grand name, Kylo comes from the Skywalker line, Organa, too—”
 
“Do we really need more people from families who fucked everything up, fucking it all up again?”
 
“Kevan,” she hushed him, “Snoke has chosen.”
 
“Yeah,” he didn’t sound happy about it, and relaxed into his leather seat, “Well, keep me up to date with the First Order stuff, and I’ll keep the FO in the Resistance loop.”
 
“I will,” she promised, “You’ll have to tell me if we go to see any of your allies. I can use that as leverage.”

How little she knew that keeping in touch would condemn her and Hux on a diplomatic mission, when Kevan was captured and revealed what he knew.

 

[Lucyfer]

Chastity
​

“Seriously, never?”


Kevan and Kylo were both at Starkiller. Kevan had returned to report on his success in obtaining the allegiance of another group, and Kylo had started to question how he’d managed it. Needless to say, it led to the conversation of sex; it had been a part of many of Kevan’s successful conquests. “No,” Kylo answered, seeming a bit annoyed that it was a big deal to Kevan.


And it was.


But, Kevan, being the man he was, didn’t let it stay serious. He brushed a hand by Kylo’s neck, through his hair, “You know, I could fix that.” It wasn’t like Kylo was unattractive. With his helmet off, the man was handsome with his luxurious dark hair, and his firm body. Kevan would jump on that in a heartbeat.


But of course, his hand was batted away. “No.”


“Not into men?” Kevan smirked and crossed his arms, “C’mon. What’s your type?”


“I don’t have a type. We’re not supposed to have attachments, Kevan.”


“I’m not really attached to that king. I mean…I’d go see him again, but I’d also stab him in the back if need be.” Kylo’s scowl deepened, “Shouldn’t we be attached to each other, anyway? We’re a family.”


“That just makes it worse.”


“I thought Skywalkers didn’t mind that.”


Kylo fixed him with a glare and Kevan laughed, lifting both hands in a surrender gesture. “Okay, okay, but you don’t find anyone attractive, Kylo?”


Kylo mumbled something incomprehensibly, so Kevan made up what it was. He thought he heard ‘blue’, “General Hux’s blue eyes?”


“NO!” The mere idea seemed to upset Kylo so much that a nearby pipe burst. The two glanced at it, then both quickly channeled the Force to be out of that hallway and down the next two in mere seconds, with Kevan laughing once they stopped running. “Where would you get that idea?”


“I just imagined how you seem to like being angry, and Hux makes you angry, so I figured you two would have fantastic angry sex. I'm sure he has great manicured nails under those gloves that could do some wicked damage to a back."


Kylo was fifty shades of red. “I would like women, if I were to ever…and yes, blue eyes.” Like his first lightsaber.


“There, that wasn’t so hard, was it? It’s good to know you’re still human.”


Kylo huffed and they walked on. “I do not see what the fuss is,” he said.


“Of course you don’t, you haven’t had it. Try it some day.” He slipped his hand into a pocket of his black robes, and took out a condom. Before Kylo knew what had happened, he was placing it in Kylo’s hand and closing his hand around it. “And use that. Even if it is with Hux. There are STI’s out there, and who knows what the people here have.”


Kylo glared down at the condom, but didn’t immediately toss it away. “It isn’t attachment just to fuck someone. And it is fantastic exercise, for both of you.”


“Thanks….” Kylo said awkwardly, not sure how else to respond.


“Sure. And if you ever need a wingman, I can probably help you. You’re handsome enough on your own, so that won’t make it too hard. Mira would probably do you.”


“She’s like a sister, Kevan!”


“Hey, I don’t judge. I know how you Skywalkers are.”


And Kevan sprinted as Kylo lit his saber to avoid the rage at his second, incestuwalker joke.

 

[Lucyfer]

Patience
​

Occasionally, Ceres regretted being friends with Ben. Going fishing with the other padawans to learn patience was one of those moments, as the older kids sat up on the cliff and tried to fish.

Already, Ceres had caught three fish.

Ben had caught all the same fish, five times, a boney thing that no one would ever want to eat. The anger wafting off of him would have been amusing if his temper tantrums hadn’t been getting worse. 

Then there was another nibble on his line.

Ceres glanced his way as he stood to rapidly start reeling in the fish, hoping it would actually be something worthy.

It wasn’t. The same blue fish hung there, obvious by its wounded fin. It gaped upon the hook, unable to free its morbidly destroyed lips from the hook.

“WHAT IS THIS BULLSHIT?!” Ben finally exploded as he reached for the fish and pulled it right off the hook, tearing more of its poor mouth. Luke shot him a glare from where he was with some of the younger kids. 

“Ben!” Luke snapped, as Ben hurled the fish back into the water. 

Ceres covered her lips as he collapsed back onto the grass, folding his legs underneath himself and throwing the pole away from himself. His pout was almost adorable, lips trembling with fury and a suppressed yell at the injustice of the fishing world. 

To add insult to injury, another on their cliffside started to get a nibble, and immediately started to reel it in. Ceres glanced towards it, and laughed as up came a much larger fish, with far less bones to it. 

Ben pushed himself up immediately, “Ben, don’t—” Luke tried, but he was storming off already to get away from his ill fortune. Luke just sighed and shook his head. Ceres couldn’t make out all that he said, but it was evidently something about ‘this is why I had you here’, but she just slowly reeled up her own line and set it aside to go after Ben.

Friendship meant being a friend.

She found the dark-haired teen sitting in the grass and picking up pieces, one by one. 

She didn’t speak, just sat down across from him. 

He didn’t speak to her, either, and she watched him aimlessly tear the grass around him to pieces. She almost offered to spar with him, but the mood was drastically altered by other means. 

The little girl—Rey Kenobi—dropped a crown of blue flowers on his head out of the blue. The only warning Ben got was a hand that fell on his shoulder, and then her knee in his side as she tried to pull herself up high enough to drop the crown on him. 

Bewildered, Ben reached up to take off the crown and look at it, then at her. 

She was staring at him with those wide, almost angry, green eyes. “Smile!” She demanded of him, and Ceres lost it, falling back onto the grass to laugh as Ben gave her a bewildered look, then looked to the flower crown.

And then he smiled. “Thanks,” he reached out to mess up her own hair, before putting his crown back on. She beamed. 

 

[Lucyfer]

Hosnian Prime
​

Silence dominated the maroon room as the Tarkin patriarch held two fingers against his head and stared at the datapad before him. ‘Can’t believe I agreed to this nonsense.’ Yet, Casterfo was pushing him to it, insisting that they needed to force the First Order back into the Senate.

‘We need to be watching them. I’ve heard rumors on Arkanis.’

August shook his head, closing his eyes. Why and how Casterfo was on Arkanis needed no explanation. He was still bitter over that First Order spy, Carise Sindian, who had to go into exile on Arkanis after Leia made sure to strip her of all titles. ‘Why does it have to be me?’ Because everyone knew how passionately he stood against the First Order, most likely. If he wanted to bring them into the fold, people were going to listen. 

He’d have the Imperials.

He’d have the Centrists. 

Convincing the Populists was going to be the difficult part. ‘We should be sanctioning Organa’s actions. She has a private military.’ Technically, his military wasn’t private, though it far exceeded what the New Republic would like him to have. 

“August.”

Julia spoke, breaking him from his reverie. He opened his tired eyes and looked to her, only to see the room cast in an orange glow, and Julia looking out the window. 

August looked that way, as well. He saw the streaks of light, and then rose with a start. He walked out onto his balcony and could see many others in the Tarkin household had exited as well to look up. 

The lights vanished in crackles and spurts of light. 

Then, a wave swept over Eriadu, a pressure that shook everything it fell upon briefly. 

August knew without words what had happened. He’d felt this once before, and as he stared up into the blackness of the night, his heart ached. 

He felt Julia’s hand take hold of his, and then the other fell over it as she drew her hand up to her chest, so she could stand closer to him without his arm being in the way of his side. He couldn’t so much as move his hand to wrap around her shoulders, he was simply stunned beyond words to know that, just then, several planets had been destroyed. 

“That was the Hosnian system,” Julia said. “You would have been there tomorrow….” 

Wining and dining. 

Visiting with Adelaide in preparation for what had to be said. 

Seeing old friends and older enemies. 

He was not sure how long he stood there, with her at his side, until they were both shocked from it by a droid rushing in, “Apologies, August, Julia, there are many people requesting to speak with you. Should I—”

“Tell them we’re okay,” his voice cracked, “We’re not taking any calls tonight. Don’t disturb us again.” 

“Understood, sir.” 

The droid left them, and Julia turned August back into his lounge, letting him take a seat back before his datapad. Its information was wiped. “I suppose I should be writing a speech about war with the First Order now.” 

Julia said nothing to that. She merely began to use the datapad to start streaming the news from various planets, and the major galactic stations. They were all muted, and all came to hover about the room before them. 

She brought up a list then, and began to sort out names of people they knew. People they loved. 

They spent the night getting progressively drunker as Julia kept tabs on who was dead, and who was confirmed alive. 

August nursed his wine and nursed his hatred as friend after friend, and enemy after enemy, had their name turn red on Julia’s list. 

“In good news,” Julia said sarcastically. “There’s going to be an emergency meeting on Coruscant now. Not Hosnian Prime.”

The bitter laugh that escaped August turned to sobs.  

 

[Lucyfer]

[COLOR= rgb(178, 34, 34)]Empire[/COLOR]
​

The Acadamy on Coruscant was silent as the grave when news arrived that the Death Star had been destroyed. A group of would-be Imperials stood in the lobby of their union, and watched the news projected in the center.


Fear and anger and sorrow tore at raw nerves.


Thunder clapped.


That broke the silence to sobs and whispers. 


August Tarkin stood rigid as he accepted what he did not have confirmed. Wilhuff Tarkin was dead. 'Is Vader? The Emperor?' They would know soon, him sooner.


There would be tears, but the young August was filled with resolve and anger. An old saying came to mind, one of miners and children, as he turned with lockstep precision to exit the pointless gathering.


Some looked.


Someone coldly commented, "Off to step into Wilhuff's boots?" With a sneer of his pug nose.


It stopped August cold and his fiery blue eyes fell upon the muddy eyes of Jarrod Pandion. "After the immense failure of the Grand Moff here, I doubt you'll even be considered for a Moff position." His father was rival to Wilhuff, and though not amicable, they had respect for each other.


Clearly his son did not.


August burned. "Failure?" He repeated, tone too calm to be sane as both eyebrows rose. "Elaborate." He dared.


Pandion took it, "He and Vader were in charge of the Death Star. He failed to have it adequately defended, or built well - weren't you bragging about him being overseer of that?" The sneer was ever present, even as August started to see only red. "Great job fucking it all up. We'll take care of things now." A cocky tilt of the chin.


A fist slammed right into that space revealed by the upwards tilt, jolting Jarrod backwards as he rocked on his heels. He wasn't out with that, but with the third blow as his chin fell forward, and August put the palm of his off-hand into Jarrod's nose, breaking it and sending the would-be officer to the floor.


Pandion's friends didn't take kindly to what August did, even if Jarrod was an idiot for insulting the ginger man at that delicate time. 


Chaos erupted.


August was jumped by three. Perhaps they only meant to pull him back, but when he threw a punch at the nameless blond, peaceful resolution was lost. That boy staggered back as the black-haired woman barreled right into the Tarkin, knocking him to the ground when her shoulder connected with his abdomen. She didn't fall with him, but the third companion fell upon him just as he started to pull himself up. Fist hit jaw. Head hit ground. August tasted blood as the weight of the blurred man registered, keeping August from rising.


Another punch, opposite side, left eye.


August lifted his hands to shield, and felt a hard kick against his left hip as the man upon him shifted his weight.


Fingers dug into hair and pulled his head, arching his neck uncomfortably, and August moved his arms to push both hands up to wrap around the throat of the one holding his hair. Hair was released as the man went to punch again, but this was what August wanted. He pulled down, disrupting the balance, and bit down on the first bit of flesh he could get near his teeth.


The blood he tasted then wasn't his own as it rushed out of the veins.


The scream mixed surprise and pain. August got his legs under the man and kicked him off, then rolled as the woman tried to stomp him. He was quick to move into a crouch then, eyes blazing as all he’d learned at the Carrion came crashing back into him. The instincts of the beast he was came with it, and so he noticed the play of shadow on the ground and in his crouch, turned, and lunged, seeing the black pants of another.


His arms wrapped around knees as he threw the stranger to the ground, hearing the clatter as a chair they’d lifted fell from their hands. August rose first, not staying to linger, as the woman was approaching.


A heeled foot cut across his chest, the stiletto apparently sharpened, and the woman not at all impeded by the footwear. In fact, when her foot landed, she used the momentum of its fall to spin herself into another kick, a higher kick, and August had to sidestep.


He moved as the foot dropped, and entered her space before she could try again. She threw a punch that he took to the chest, so he could grab her arm. He caught it, kept it firm against his chest, as his other hand dropped down on it. Bone broke and she shrieked. He kept the arm in grasp and pulled her around with him, lifting her and throwing her at the one who had dropped the chair.


He caught her.


He fell with her.


And August walked to where he lay, dazed, and lifted his foot to bring it down on the boy’s chest.


An arm wrapped itself around his neck and pulled him back.


August flailed out, as oxygen was cut off. “That’s enough, Tarkin!” The woman who held him barked, strong enough to step back with him as others quickly flooded the area to protect the injured and start any necessary emergency care, as medics were called.


August relaxed in the grip, and she allowed him to breathe again. He didn’t know who she was, couldn’t see her and didn’t recognize the voice, but she knew him. ‘Who doesn’t?’ Narcissistic question, of course.


Then her question came: “Do you have access to your cousin’s apartment?”


“Yes,” he rasped out, tasting his blood again. “Why?”


“My father was on the Death Star. I need to know if he’s alive. The emperor would know. Your cousin had direct access to the emperor.”


The logic was simple enough to follow. “Who was your father?”


“General Tagge,” it was then she let him go, and he turned to face her.


He recognized her, then. Adelaide Tagge. Top student, generally silent, which was why he hadn’t known the voice. He had known Tagge, too. Tagge was no fan of the Death Star – again, that saying came to mind. Tagge thought they were putting too much focus on a single thing, and he had turned out to be right. “I understand. Come with me.”


The pair were out of the Academy in minutes, August wiping the blood off on his black clothing and continuing on into the rain. Outside, there was a protest going on, there were people trying to rise up, thinking the Empire was done with. ‘Idiots.’ August avoided them, made his way to Republica 500, and called upon the elevator to get to Wilhuff’s room.


When he arrived, and entered, they weren’t alone.


There was a robed man sitting on the familiar couch, and August immediately stiffened. Adelaide was quick to bow, but August was bristling with anger at finding him already here. Waiting.


‘They are Sith.’


It was not something Palpatine or Vader confirmed, but Wilhuff had been certain of it. He never said it too loudly, for it was a myth. Some spoke of it, of course. Others suspected more loudly. Feared, because of it.


August should have feared, but he was too angry. “What are you doing here?”


The Emperor rose, shorter than August, “I knew that you would come here, August,” he told him, and August kept his chin up in defiance. “The blood makes the uniform. Wilhuff always believed so.”


The bloodlust of the Tarkins was a not-so well kept secret.


“I am sorry. He did not make it.”


“Sir,” Adelaide dared to interrupt, “My father – General Tagge – ”


Palpatine waved a dismissive hand. “Alive. He went to check Dantooine,” he said, as if it were of no consequence. Then, he reconsidered, “He was one of the only ones to take the rebel threat seriously,” he paused in consideration of that, “I will have to speak with him myself.”


Adelaide was not certain how to respond, so she only said, “Thank you,” and then looked to August.


Looked for direction.


The Emperor smiled at that, at the power he could see in the young Tarkin – a power he had seen in Wilhuff and cultivated. “Tagge, I would like to speak to August alone, please. This is a troubling time for the young man.” He was the last Tarkin. Eriadu stood at a precipice.


“Yes, sir,” with that, Adelaide bowed again, and darted out, but not before saying, “I’ll wait for you on the base floor,” and then she was gone.


There was a silence as her heels still echoed through the hall, where Sheev Palpatine assessed August. “You are angry.”


“Yes.”


“That is good. Did Wilhuff ever tell you of his troubles in school?”


“Not of troubles,” a touch of a smirk.


Palpatine appreciated it, “We all put too much faith in the Death Star, even Tarkin. I am disappointed to confess that I have done the same. I underestimated the rebels, and it has cost you the life of your uncle, and more importantly, it has cost Eriadu leadership.”


Tarkin straightened, and he said, “You would like to step into his place. I can see it. You’ve conquered your own trial, haven’t you?”


“Yes. The Orrineswa River.”


“For Wilhuff, it was the Carrion Spike.”


“Yes.” August confirmed. “He not only conquered it, he eradicated it.”


“But you have not.”


August deflated, a bit.


“In time, you will, but that time is not now. You are young, and now, it is your time to prove yourself, as Wilhuff did. When you graduate, return to Eriadu and I will make you a Moff. You will control that sector in service to the Empire, and you will rise, as Wilhuff did. I know that.” The words weren’t a suggestion that it was a simple guess, either.


Palpatine had been good at sensing greatness. “Pandion won’t be Grand Moff, will he?”


Palpatine sneered, looking disgusted, “No.”


That relaxed August, “It was his brat that tried to rile you, wasn’t it?” When August nodded, Palpatine chuckled, “Pandion tried that with Wilhuff as well. I see he will fall, and fall hard.”


‘Then why keep him?’ But August did not ask. He knew the answer. Chaos. Wilhuff had recognized it early on, that Palpatine bred an environment of chaos and competition. Pandion served his purpose.


“I’ll return then, once I graduate, and remain in service to the Empire.” August promised. “I suspect you have things to gather here that belong to the Empire?”


Palpatine’s smile faded, a bit, “Yes.”


“Then I’ll return tomorrow to begin the process of sorting my family’s affairs.”


There was a challenge in the silence, but Palpatine must have decided there was no point to it. Or no reason to rise to it, lest he reveal things the young Tarkin was not prepared for.


“Return. There is much here for you, and I will return with the keys to the Executrix. It was my gift to Wilhuff, and now it will be my gift to you."


"And the Carrion Spike?"


"Unfortunately, it is still out for repairs. Stealth technology is tricky to restore."


August nodded as if he understood. Believed. He didn't.


He found what was hidden in Wilhuff's room, though, for he knew of stealth. He found what Palpatine could not – Wilhuff’s older journals, which contained many things Palpatine would not have wanted August to have.


He never returned them.

 

[Lucyfer]

[SIZE= 22px]Orrineswa River[/SIZE]
​

“This is it. If you survive, you are a Tarkin. If you do not, we will forget you.”


It was for that reason, that the ginger boy sometimes wondered if he had once had siblings who failed the challenge. He’d seen the bones of those who attempted the Carrion Spike, Tarkins long forgotten, before Wilhuff destroyed the challenge.


Now August had to be the pioneer. He had to attempt the Orrineswa River on his own. He was given a month to scout it and figure out what he might need, to prepare.


He studied all that he could about the nexus.


He practiced rowing and rafting and swimming in currents.


He mapped the river through his sniper rifle, the one thing never far from his side, and watched the pride of nexus, as well, learning how they interacted. Learning who their leader was. Learning everything he could about their structure, and what other animals were in the area. The river was life to many, who had to risk going through the nexu territory to drink of it at the mouth.  


Then the day came, and he was all but kicked out of the ship that flew above the plateau with his gear, besides the boat he’d spent time building on the plateau, at the river’s edge.


‘Well, fuck you, too.’ August grumbled as he dusted dirt off his camouflaged pants, adjusted the rifle on his back, as well as his pack, and walked right to the boat. He pulled it to the water’s edge, took off his pack to throw it in, then his rifle, and then pushed the boat all the way into the water. He waded out with it for a bit, until he found the rocks he’d placed in the water to give him enough leverage to step up, and then jump into the boat as well.


The paddles were there for him, and he quickly got the boat moving towards the rapids and falls. Thoughts of going to the Academy on Coruscant and all future worries were forgotten as soon as his boat hit those white waters, and he had to hope his craftsmanship was good enough each time the boat rocked against a stone.


It never broke, though, and he dictated the movement of his boat along those currents and falls, jostled by every fall, but keeping everything in the boat, safely under the useless, second bench.


The third fall was the one he was most concerned with, and he knew it was shortly after the second. The second was short, a rush that spun the small boat, but August didn’t let himself be disoriented. He leaned over the useless bench, jaw set, to pull a cord.


It happened too fast.


The third fall came, and August was pulled down by gravity. His legs hooked under his bench, but he knew what was going to happen. ‘Damn it.’


He unhooked his legs, kicked the boat, and twisted his body to hit the water as painlessly as possible.



It still hurt. He was almost positive he cracked a rib when he hit the water. He nearly blacked out, but managed to stay conscious.


The boat broke above him.


He rushed to the surface and gasped air, then swam to the shore to examine himself. ‘I won’t make it to the mouth walking.’ He looked into the swirling water by the fall, and wondered how far his pack and gone had gotten. The pack had an extra blow-up raft in it. Not ideal, but necessary.


He made his way back to the water and cursed the fact his googles were also in the pack, before he dove down and opened his eyes, enduring the stinging.


The pack’s strap had gotten caught on a rock. August swam for it and grasped it, pulled it up, and smirked as he saw the weight of the gun sunk it to the bottom, as well. He grabbed it, and pulled both up with him.


He swam back to the shore, took the raft out, and activated it.


It inflated in seconds, and August stripped out of his heavier clothing, putting the necessities in the pack and abandoning the soaking pants and tunic to the river itself.



He didn’t need some creature getting his scent and following it.


He brushed his wet hair back with his hands and set the raft afloat, taking a couple of planks as paddles since those were long gone, and set off in the raft.


August did not like the raft.


It was trick navigating it around rocks, and it liked to get stuck. He was constantly paranoid that the raft was going to get torn apart by some particularly sharp rocks, but it handled the falls better, although the landings were always rough for August.


His chest hurt with each drop or violent rock. He was positive something was critically damaged, but there was nothing to do about it.



Just survive.


Eventually the raft floated into the mouth, where several creatures drinking scurried away, and August was able to pull himself and the raft up. He deflated the raft, and shoved it back into the pack, then lifted up his white tanktop to see the bruising developing on his chest. ‘Fuck.’ A look up revealed evening would be falling in a couple of hours, which didn’t leave him as much time as he’d like to develop his plan to survive the night here, and avoid becoming a meal for the nexus pride.


He trekked away from the mouth of the river, but not too far.


His attempt to climb a tree failed miserably. The pain was too much. That further ruined his plans, so he left his items some distance away from the mouth of the river before he returned to it. Gun was left to lean against a tree, before he dove down into the water once again, and coated himself in the plants and muds beneath, before rising back up, and returning to his gun, confident he’d masked his scent under the scent of the river.


He hid in the trees.


He waited, sniper rifle prepared, until eventually a male bolma came to the water to drink. It was alert, as it should be. Twilight was falling, and that meant the nexus would be hunting soon.


His shot was clean, but the echo of it rang out, and August was quick to move when his prey fell, dying. He pulled a knife from his boot and slit its throat, letting it bleed out.



He had timed it just well enough.


He cut the creature up, pieced it out, and was prepared when the nexus showed up, hearing the gunshot and smelling the blood. He remained crouched by the dead bolma, and he met the eyes of the one he knew to be the leader.


They were smart creatures.


They knew that humans, in general, were threats that needed to be exterminated. Predators that could kill them.


So August held eye contact with two of the four eyes, and lifted up the creature’s liver and held it out to the nexu alpha. His other hand, he kept held out off to the side, palm up to the sky.


He couldn’t take on the entire pride, he’d known that the same way Wilhuff had known he couldn’t take on the veermoks. He had to make a pact in the only language predators understood.


But he wouldn’t submit. His eyes never fell away as the alpha stalked forward, slow and graceful, to sniff the liver in his hand. It never broke eye contact either. It scented the air and detected no fear, no weakening in the posture. August was willing to fight if it was necessary, and he could grab his knife and gun easily enough.


He wouldn’t make it.


But he’d take out the alpha, at least.


His look promised that.


But it didn’t need to go down that way, and the pride didn’t need to go hunting that night, either. No risk. Their prey was here, killed for them.


The alpha lunged and took the liver, without taking August’s hand, and the rest followed its decision, moving forward to get at the prime pieces of meat already exposed. August was allowed to rise, and he went ignored as he walked through the water to cleanse himself of the blood.


He didn’t, however, leave the area.



He stayed in their memory by staying in their sight, and sat against a tree, leaning against it, and staying awake.


The nexus paid him no mind, until near the end of the night, when the alpha came over to him and sniffed him. August held the blade tight in his hand then, and heard the rattle of the creature’s breath as it let it out in a long exhale into August’s face.


It reeked of carrion.


Then it turned away with its pride, tail lashing the air, and August knew he’d survived the night by staying near the feasting pride. No other animal would have dared to venture so close.


When dawn started to come, August pulled himself up, and trekked to the agreed upon meeting place, where he all but collapsed into the ship and was quickly flown to a hospital to get his ribs fixed up.

 

[Lucyfer]

[SIZE= 22px]Separatist Party[/SIZE]
​

Republica 500 towered over Coruscant still.


The Emperor’s room had a new owner, August Tarkin, who looked over the old Senate Hall in a way that must have mirrored the Emperor himself, once: disgust. He held a glass of red wine as he stared down at the world from the high-rise suite, Julia leaning on the railing to his right, and Ransolm Casterfo leaning on the wall to his left, hidden beneath his hardly flattering clothes and a hood.


“I see the appeal of planet destroying weapons in times like these,” August admitted.


They were fresh from Eriadu, and Arkanis, in Ransolm’s case. They were here for the emergency meeting of the senate after Hosnian Prime. Johann had been left to attend school, and for his safety. ‘Not that there is any emergency.’


“Then go join Hux.” There was a snarl in Ransolm’s tone.


“We have our own blueprints,” Julia said to Ransolm, giving him a smile when the once-blonde man looked over to her, eyes starting to widen. “You’re not the only Imperial collector. It helps that Wilhuff left much on Eriadu.” And in his journals.


August sipped his wine.


“Starkiller is destroyed,” August said, more to himself than to the others, “Hux and Kylo Ren survived. This war isn’t over. I may yet have to create such a thing.”


“The Imperatrix will be enough,” Julia said.


“Not without that kind of range.”


“We can work on that.”


Silence again. Then, Ransolm spoke, “I cannot believe they want you to give the speech.”


August’s lips quirked just a bit. He had almost laughed at Carise when she came to tell him that the Centrist party was still hoping he would speak on behalf of them, because of this tragedy. ‘She still doesn’t know.’ Of course she didn’t. August didn’t make it common knowledge that he knew many of the First Order supporters, though he found it hilarious how many tried to twist his mind. “I should have them all assassinated.”


“August….” Julia, of course.


“It would be so easy to set up snipers on those repulsorpods, and assassinate every First Order supporter.”


“Easy,” Ransolm agreed, “but as you said, this war isn’t over. We may need them. We still have not discerned the new location of General Hux or Kylo Ren. Besides, we should try them first.”


August smiled, just a bit. He was glad that Ransolm hadn’t lost some of his idealism. Naïve though it was, it was…comforting. Why couldn’t there be more like him? ‘Because they get killed.’ Tarkin and Leia knew that.


It was why Leia Organa left, to deal with the issues after she’d been slandered for being Darth Vader’s child.


But it was why August stayed. Someone had to stay, or else this would devolve into an empire again, and he would not see Snoke or Hux fill that vacuum of power.


He sipped the wine. “I should sleep,” he said, and set the now-empty glass upon the table on the balcony. “You’ll stay to see, won’t you?”



“I wouldn’t miss this for the galaxy,” Ransolm indicated, “I’m looking forward to seeing how many First Order operatives panic.”


“It won’t be just them,” with that, August walked from the balcony to leave Ransolm and Julia to catch up, and play catty about Carise and others. Ransolm was good at that; he’d once looked ‘devilishly handsome’ as Julia put it.


August still wasn’t sure if he should be jealous of that. He’d never been ‘devilishly handsome’.


Yet, he slept peacefully, and knew when Julia came to join him, wrapping her arms around him and snuggling close, thinking she didn’t disturb him.


When morning came, he made sure to step out as the senator and Imperial he was, emblazoning the symbol of the empire on him in the form of a silver pin.


He knew which repulsorpod was his without needing direction or instruction. He caught sight of Adelaide and a few of the others he’d spoken with, after Carise came to him. They knew, more or less, the intentions of August with this ‘speech’ he was meant to give.


August didn’t stop for small talk. Julia followed him onto the repulsorpod, as did his ever dutiful rodian guard, who would probably need a raise after this. They waited, as the droids did their tallies.


August listened to the representative of Coruscant, as the droned on about the history of the Grand Rotunda. As they held a moment of silence for Hosnian Prime. A member of the Populist group was then allowed to speak, and they lashed out not at the First Order, but at the Centrist party.


August was on the verge of laughing so hard he would cry as he listened to the fire and brimstone and hate fill the room, at the wrong enemy. ‘Leia, I miss you. You were the only sane one, I swear.’


“Snipers still sound like a good idea?” Julia whispered into his ear, and he smirked. “I could have it done in five minutes.”


“Don’t tempt me,” he said, turning his head slightly to catch her lips in a quick nip, before the floor was given over to him. She shifted back to sit, and he rose to stand at the center of his pod as it moved from its place to center itself in the room, all eyes on him, the pin clearly visible on every screen.


He waited a beat, seeing the horror in some faces at his audacity.


“Thank you, senator Seastrom, for your rousing speech.” Julia took up a datapad, and he didn’t even look back to her. She knew what to do. When to do it. “Though I feel much of your passion and rage, I would like to take a moment to reflect not only on the loss of the Hosnian system, and a second home for many of us, but to think on Alderaan. Let us give a moment, esteemed senators, to reflect on all that we have lost, and all that we have learned through these losses.”


There was a melodious tinkling. A melody many would be familiar with, from when Leia was outted as Darth Vader’s daughter. The lullaby of Alderaan. “Bail Organa stood watch over our meetings on Hosnian Prime. I remember looking upon it many times, and it always reminded me of where the Empire went wrong.”


The pin still shone in the light.


The melody continued.


“Where the Senate went wrong.”


August knew how to meet everyone’s eye at once through the screens. It was an art any good senator mastered, and many became uncomfortable under the Tarkin fire, shifting in their seats. “I was asked by my party to speak on behalf of the First Order and to invite them into the Senate. That invitation stands, if General Hux is man enough to accept it.” He wouldn’t. Even if nothing would happen, as it should, he wouldn’t accept it.


August didn’t know how right he was then, how not too long from that moment, General Hux would be on Coruscant, and people would want to interview him.


“That is not why I agreed to speak today, however. I did not agree to speak, to let it be known that General Brendol Hux could come before us to explain what he’s done. I have come before you today in order to speak of the many flaws of our system, beginning with my own party, fractured into two distinct groups that you Populists refuse to see: the First Order and the Imperialists—and we are PROUD to call ourselves Imperialists.”


The fire burned as the melody faded out, but not the memory, “Not because we had power and authority that General Hux now has – and anyone who denies it is a fool – but because we began to change this universe. We did not know that Emperor Palpatine and Vader were Sith, and for that we are deeply humbled and apologetic, but we do know that we began a project to advance our galaxy that the New Republic has now stifled.”


His hands were on the screen before him, placed calm, though his knuckles were white. None would see that. “You cast out the best of us when you believed a First Order operative’s obviously altered holovids.” Or August might just be good at recognizing alterations. Wilhuff taught him. “You cast out the best of the Populists, Leia Organa, for no good reason as well. You let General Hux leave. Do you know what happened the last time people began to leave the Senate en masse?”


Silence.


“The Clone Wars.”


The Separatist Party.


Masters of holovid manipulations.


“Now we are at war, and the first thing I hear are accusations thrown at political opponents. You should all be ashamed of yourselves.”


He shut his eyes. He took a breath. “The First Order party, while I currently loathe them, they make their points, points Ransolm Casterfo once knew, points I have heard many times.” He opened his eyes, “It was why I was going to humor inviting the First Order here, the way the Senate once allowed guilds in to the floor. We see and we agree, that a strong central authority is necessary. The First Order wants to go back to the way of Palpatine, while we Imperialists learned a very hard lesson about how wrong that was. I, August Tarkin, cousin to Wilhuff Tarkin, denounce the methods of the First Order and the Empire. I denounce the use of world-destroying weapons and fear-mongering.”


And yet, he lifted his eyes to meet all of those eyes around him again. “I denounce the inaction of this Senate, and so in order to protect my own world, and my own sector, I hereby declare my intention to militarize the Seswenna Sector.” It had a military, of course.


He would go beyond that.


There was an uproar immediately, but August waved it off, and an image of the Imperatrix came onto the screen, his carefully guarded secret, a Star Destroyer turned Super Star Destroyer after years of rebuilding and refashioning the Executrix. TIE fighters. Militarized soldiers with Eriadu’s flag. It had already begun.


“SILENCE.”


And the room went silent as his voice boomed out. Then, very quietly, “Go ahead and put it to a vote,” deadly calm. “See if you can do anything other than deadlock it. Meanwhile, I and the Seswenna Sector will be prepared when the First Order resurfaces,” again, his eyes took in all of them, “While all of you sit here and bicker about which party is the worst, and how things ought to be run in fairy dreamland, I will be protecting my people. Anyone is free to join me,” a tilt of the chin up, “but do not read me incorrectly. I am not defecting from the Senate. If you ever agree to it, I will demilitarize.” They wouldn’t.


August was so confident in that, that no one in the room was laughing.


Because his party would support him. Even those of the First Order, because they had to show party solidarity.


The neutral worlds would support him, and come to him to beg his protection.


The Populists would rally against him, because that’s what they did. It would take many, many meetings before they even got to the point of voting. “You Populists support autonomy of individual planets, so you should be fine with my plans, as you were fine with so many others leaving to do things on their own. After all…it was the EMPIRE who destroyed everything, a united, central body of power, that did not begin with the dissatisfaction of small groups.”


He was mocking them.


Hux was that.


The Separatists were that. “I should be allowed to militarize as I see fit.”


“You will be raping the peoples and resources of the Seswenna sector!” Someone brave finally declared loud enough, their repulsorpod lifting to join August in the center. They were shaking with rage, an inhuman sentient covered in beautiful, black fur. “This is wrong, this should be taken to a vote. Any militarization action should be taken to a vote!”


“And yet, our own rules allow for planets to militarize how they see fit.”


“Not entire sectors!”



“Every leader in that sector has agreed,” he said, “I am simply leading the effort, due to my training and resources.”


“This is an act of war.”


“THIS is an act of WAR?” August looked incredulous. “You accuse me of an act of WAR after Hosnian Prime was destroyed?”


Trembling anger. “That was an act of war, and this is an act of war. Degree—”


“No, degree doesn’t matter,” August snapped back before the other could finish. His patience was at an end, “All that matters is that I am standing here, and I am a politician, so you are going to pointlessly yammer on, because that’s all you’re good at.”



Yammering mouth was held open. ‘I hate all of you.’


August didn’t say that, of course. “Citizens of our united universe, from the Core to the Outer Rim, I have stated my intentions, and I will go through with them. If it is meant to be illegal, then make it so and do something.” With that, August slammed the button on his repulsorpad, and it flew back towards its place.


Silence.


And then, thunderous applause and shrieking.


August sunk back into his seat besides Julia and put a hand to his head. “I hate them all,” he told her in a whisper that wouldn’t be caught by the many, many audio systems.


She brushed a hand through his hair, eyes on the chaos that erupted in the wake of August’s denouncement. “The First Order looks nervous,” she said, and let the screen flip through to the operatives they knew. They were clapping, for appearances, but their expressions were dead giveaways.


They were nervous about August militarizing.


But it was enough to make August smile. “The system isn’t all that bad, is it?” The reminder that he was counting on the party falling in line, because that was how bipartisan systems worked.


Because even the First Order Centrists would have to speak out in favor of August that day, and even the Populists who agreed with his logic of planetary autonomy had to speak out against him.


‘I hate all of you.’


He wanted one brave soul to step forward.


He wanted another Leia.


Another Ransolm.


Anyone.

 

[KyloGlenn]

Mean
​

-
​

A young Brendol Hux, nine years old, trailed behind his father. He clutched a stuffed ewok to his chest, much to his father’s dismay. Not only did the elder Brendol think his son was too old for stuffed animals, but it had to be an ewok that he was drawn to.


As they entered the designated building that the meeting Brendol was to attend was held, Hux sped his walking and his hand reached out for his father’s. Brendol quickly pulled his hand from his son’s and used it to direct him off into a different direction. “Go, Brendol. Find the other children.”


The other children.


Little Hux shook his head. “Can I come with you?” His voice was pleading with his father. 


Brendol’s eyes narrowed down upon his son, “Of course not. Go, boy. I don’t have time for this.”


“I don’t want to find the other children. They’re mean to me. They call me mean names.” Hux shook his head, his short ginger hair quickly becoming a mess. He would much rather be stuck in the meeting with his father. He could learn stuff! Learn about this whole First Order thing. “I can be quiet! I promise.”


Brendol sighed, his arms crossing. “Endure it. It’ll make your skin thicker, stronger while they remain insolent and weak. This will not matter in a few years time, anyway.” He dismissed.


Hux felt his little chest tighten. He knew his father wouldn’t budge. If he argued anymore, Hux knew he’d be punished for talking back. “Okay…I’ll go.”


“Good. I’ll meet you here in two hours.” 


Hux turned then, gripping his ewok as he slipped down a hall. His steps were hesitant and slow, his little body riddled with anxiety. ‘I can’t.’ Hux turned back around then, only to find his father had already moved on. ‘Maybe I can wait this out in the ship.’ No. His father had locked the ship. 


Hux took a deep breath and turned back around. “It’ll make you stronger,” he mumbled to himself, trying to comfort himself with his father’s words. It did nothing.


He wandered through a few halls, peeking in through the windows in the doors. He hoped he wouldn’t find the others and that could be his excuse as to why he’d been hanging around the lobby the entire time.


But, of course, he had to find them. All rowdy, tackling each other and laughing. 


Hux pulled the door open, though there was a struggle with how heavy it was. And the first thing he heard, “Oh look! The bastard is here!”

 

[Lucyfer]

[SIZE= 22px]Blaster[/SIZE]
​

The Empire was gone.


It was a harsh reality that August understood as soon as he saw the HoloVids from Coruscant. Emperor Palpatine was dead – he had clones, body doubles, but few were aware of it.


August was. Thanks in large part to Wilhuff’s journals, which he had stored now on the Imperatrix, a work in progress that was, in fact, being worked on as he walked through one of many military hangars on Eriadu.


Black pants pressed.


Hands behind his back.


A young man walked at his side, talking quick and relaying information to August on their forces, incoming messages, everything.


August was preparing for war, but he wasn’t sure who with. He had been prepared as soon as Wilhuff died, and he was allowed to simply govern his world. He paid the necessary taxes, but he hadn’t contributed any of the troops or machines of war he’d produced to Emperor Palpatine. He’d actually skimmed money from him, and made it seem those funds were going into Eriadu itself.


Not a complete lie.


Eriadu had grown, immensely. Atmosphere cleaners and weather control things were in place everywhere, except over the Carrion, of course. That would always remain wild. More hover cars. More health care. More schools, more opera houses, more everything. He was poised to rival Coruscant, and Palpatine seemed to approve. His strength had always come from the Outer Rim, though.


‘This is why you will become Grand Moff, August.’


“And there’s a Grand Moff, Pandion, wishing to speak with you.”


“Tell him to go fuck himself.”


“Sir?”


“Don’t tell him that,” August sighed, pressing a few fingers to his temple as he paused in the hangar, taking in the beautiful sounds of moving droids and metal and fire. “Tell him Eriadu does not acknowledge the Grand Moff.” Because he didn’t. “And will not host any meetings with rebels of the New Republic.”


Not now. Not when things were too unstable. In the future, he may. “General Keil would also like a meeting, sir.”


August had to remember she was married now. She had been with him from the first death bell of the Empire, it seemed. Since her father returned, alive, somehow, and spoke in whispers of the Empire. He had been promoted to Grand General by Palpatine for acknowledging the rebel threat, but he had died now. Meanwhile Adelaide lived, married, and aligned herself firmly with August.


“Tell her it can be done as soon as she would like. I’ll clear the schedule.”


“Understood. Also,” hesitation. August lowered his hand, “Princess Leia Organa would like to meet.”


“Decline. Inform her that due to her current…reputation,” smuggler, rebel, violent, “I would prefer to meet with Mon Mothma of the New Republic. I am willing to meet off Eriadu.”


“Of course. And there is also an Admiral Sloane of the…rebels,” a twist of the lips, uncertain, “who is asking you to meet on Akiva.”


‘Tell her to fuck off as well.’


“Decline. Inform her I am meeting with Mon Mothma whenever it is.” He was breaking the ties as uncleanly as he could. Nasty wounds might keep them from coming to his doorstep again and again.


He listened as the messages were spoken into the datapad and sent, walking through the hangar and exiting it to return to his home. A few officers waited outside, clearly anxious about the situation and the way Eriadu was gearing up.


They were older than him. All of them. August felt so young to be in this position, but he knew he was well-trained for it. Prepared. He tilted his chin up, “Report.”


“Moff,” a pause as August’s eyes narrowed, “Governor,” she corrected, “We are monitoring all transmissions in and out of Eriadu. We are not currently blocking any stations or the HoloNet. There is no news commenting on Eriadu from Coruscant or the Hosnian System.” Which was shaping up to be the new base of operations. “Except for a recent blow-up of commentary from the Lothal Sector.”


“I know the reason for that, Pandion has proclaimed himself Grand Moff and Eriadu no longer acknowledges those titles,” he informed the woman, “See that a bounty hunter is hired. I do not want anyone dead, but I want the Pandion manor destroyed.” Pandion mostly operated from Malastare, he knew, which was why he’d done such a shit job for the Lothal sector. Such a terrible job that Wilhuff Tarkin and Vader had to get involved with a rebel sect in the Lothal Sector.


Moff, he was not.


“Then dispatch Olline to Lothal as a diplomat. Apologize for the mess Wilhuff Tarkin made,” he was going to be doing a lot of that, “and offer Eriadu’s material assistance.” He wouldn’t offer actual labor. That was what the Empire had done, and then they wrecked Lothal. “Make sure to send word to Mon Mothma of our actions on Lothal, to make sure we are not overstepping any boundaries.”


He saw the look on some of his advisors’ and officers’ faces. Worry. Disgust. He looked to one man in particular who looked abhorred with the idea. “Is something the matter, Gerrald?”


“Since when do we care about Mon Mothma? Is she not the enemy?”


“She is not the enemy. Eriadu will be joining the New Republic.”


“We are betraying the Empire?”


“The Empire is dead. We are acknowledging the rightful power in the galaxy and making amends for being on the losing side of the war.” And quickly, before Mon Mothma and the others could demand more, before they could wreck his economy and world.


“The Empire is not dead! Grand Moff Pandion reached out to us, and now we’re going to harm his world? Admiral Sloane reached out to us.”


He’d ask how it was known, but all transmissions were being watched. No doubt, the officers had discussed things before he arrived. “Who else feels the same?” August asked.


Two others spoke out. August nodded. “And who wants to support the New Republic?” There wasn’t so much as agreement, but there was talk of how it was best for the time being. Grudging acceptance. It outnumbered those who were against it.


“You’re all cowards,” Gerrald sneered. “Wilhuff would be disappointed in you, August.”


He was wrong, of course. He’d know he was wrong if he took a look at Lothal compared to Eriadu. If he read the journals. If he knew the care Wilhuff took in making sure Eriadu was not dependent on the Empire. “You would like me to go to Akiva then?”


“Yes.”


“I will compromise. I will meet with Admiral Sloane, if she will come here. I will also be meeting with Mon Mothma, and I will weigh the pros and cons of both.”


“I’ll tell Admiral Sloane myself,” Gerrald seemed to perk.


He didn’t realize the mistake of his words, or how August read them.


August just nodded, “Would you give us a moment so we can properly compose it? I wouldn’t want you lying to her.”


The officers started to move, but August paused the others who were wanting to join with the Empire. He touched the one with the datapad at his side, too, and then touched the datapad to type in a single word.


Blaster.


The others exited, and once they had gone, Gerrald started to speak, “I know you’re worried about Eriadu, August, but we only became great because of the Emp.”


His words ended.


There was a blaster dart through his head. August swiftly turned his gun on the companion to his right, as the man with the datapad drew and fired right.


They fell to the floor and August reholstered his blaster. “Why did we do that?”


“He was having his own communications with Admiral Sloane. He was a risk to our planet.” August answered shortly. “We won’t be meeting with Admiral Sloane. The Empire did not make Eriadu great.”


‘We did.’


“We will meet with Mon Mothma.”

 

[Lucyfer]

[SIZE= 22px]Pandemonium[/SIZE]
​

‘I am a magnanimous man. I am a magnanimous man.’


August was staring at the messenger who informed him that, of all the people to be at his doorstep, the child of ‘Grand Moff’ Pandion was at his door. Jarrod Pandion. A boy he’d punched out not that long ago. Apparently, he looked a wreck, and was demanding to see August. “He doesn’t have any weapons, does he?”


“No, sir. None that we found.”


“Nevertheless. Have Japoc bring him in,” the rodian guard who had no idea how much chaos was going to happen in its term with August. “And have Japoc stay. I will meet him in the…,” which room, which room? Which room had the nexu’s head? “blue parlor,” he said. “Let him know I’ll be armed in case he wants to reconsider.”


Somehow, Jarrod Pandion did not reconsider. August walked into the room to find the other sitting on one of the fainting couches, though he jumped up when August walked in.


The first words from August were icy, “How long was your father Grand Moff?” The enthusiasm died on Jarrod’s face, “Two months?”


“Now isn’t the time to be petty.”


“Now isn’t the time to be giving me orders,” August returned, meeting those muddy eyes. ‘Shit eyes.’ His brain corrected, and his lips quirked, “As I recall, you were not so kind when my cousin died on the Death Star, were you?”


“I was young, I was—”


“Shut up. You’re not sorry. I’m not sorry,” August interrupted, “What do you want?”


August didn’t bother to sit.


Jarrod didn’t sit back down. “Admiral Sloane killed him. The Empire….”


“She’s the Empire now? Interesting,” he crossed his arms over his chest, “I should send her a fruit basket.”


He could see Jarrod’s temper rising. Only now, if he tried to punch August, he’d find a blaster dart in him, and he knew it. That’s what the guard was there for. “What do you want, Jarrod?”


Explanations and digressions started to die. August saw them fade in his eyes, and knew he wouldn’t have to deal with any more bullshit when the man bowed his head, when he said, “Lothal wants to join the New Republic, and I do not want to be executed.” He didn’t want to join the New Republic, but he didn’t want to go to Sloane, either.


August tried to glare at him.


He tried, but he saw a broken man before him and came to one conclusion: he’d never been taught how to lead.


August knew of Lothal’s disposition. Of the riots. A few of which he caused through Olline and some carefully placed propaganda. He hadn’t expected Jarrod to come to him. He expected Jarrod to be dragged from his home and killed in the streets. Mob justice. Lothal would have new leadership in the New Republic.


August would have steepled his hands under his chin if he had been sitting. ‘This is a new opportunity.’ He could have Pandion indebted to him.


He walked to his desk and picked up his communicator, calling to Mon Mothma. It was not her that picked up, but another, “This is Senator Tarkin,” he informed the PA. “I would like to request an audience with Chancellor Mothma to discuss the situation of Lothal, along with its current head, Jarrod Pandion. He would like to join the New Republic, and he brings information on the Empire to trade for pardons.”


He waited on hold. A date was given and a location. “That is agreeable,” he didn’t bother to ask Jarrod. “We will be there. Thank you,” and he hung up then, looked to Pandion.


“I-I don’t have any information.”


“Of course you do. You know about Palpatine’s plans in Wild Space.”


Jarrod opened his mouth to speak.



Then he shut it.


August waited, in case he wanted to say something. When it was clear he was not going to run his mouth anymore, August said, “You will not forget this, for as long as you live. I have not forgiven you, I am doing what is best for your world, and our Outer Rim. We will not have the New Republic destroy us.”


Lips tightened.


Jarrod nodded. Later, he'd end up selling August Tarkin almost all of Lothal's kyber crystals, and continue mining operations for more.

 

[Lucyfer]

[SIZE= 22px]First Whispers[/SIZE]
​

It had taken years for August to meet with Admiral Rae Sloane. Enough time for him to be secure in his position in the New Republic, so he was certain Chancellor Mothma would not come down hard on him for such a meeting when she learned. And she would learn. August had no intention of hiding it from her.


He had respect for her, even as the senate fractured. Mon Mothma actually got them to work together.


The dark-skinned woman stood, impatient, as August poured wine for himself, “You may begin speaking whenever you would like, Sloane.”


“Admiral Sloane.”


“I do not recognize your organization,” he sounded like a broken record, even to himself. “You are here to convince me that the Empire is not dead.”


“Not the Empire, Governor Tarkin. The Empire is dead. The Empire was flawed,” she told him, and he looked towards her, eyebrow raised, glass before his lips. “We have recognized your stance in the senate. You’re not happy with the situation. You don’t have to endure a flawed system again, Governor. Your cousin had the right of it when he assisted in destroying the senate.”


“What are you, if not the Empire?”


“The First Order.”


He’d heard whispers of it, but little else. Enough to say, “You’re trusting Brendol with its organization.”


“The man formed many officers of the Empire, but he had a different perspective as well.”


“So you are using his Cadet program.”


“No, we have modified it.”


“You are trusting a known traitor to the Empire, to keep his word and follow your modified plan. You’re an idiot.” She looked as if she’d been slapped, and August was pleased with it, “I’ll have no part of this.”


He sees the fire in her eyes, the reach, and he throws the glass of wine at her, obscuring her vision just as the small blaster found its way into her hand and she fired.


It hit a wall.


The next moment August had taken his own blaster from his desk and had it pointed at her, much as she had hers pointed at him, the red liquid dripping onto her attire from her dark hair. August had one hand on the desk, tense from head to toe.


This could be the end. Even as the guards broke into the room, this could be the end of him, but they held their positions in a tense, unmoving silence.


“We will be back,” Sloane said, a stupid threat to make then.


“Eriadu will be ready to greet you.”


He wouldn’t see Sloane again, however. She would end up killed. The First Order would come again, though, when it was far more prepared to deal with August, but still he’d refuse.  

 

[Lucyfer]

Allies Means....
​

The mansion on Eriadu was plush, Kevan thought, but not as plush as some of the suites he’d stayed in while roaming the universe on Snoke’s orders. He stood in a room mostly red in hue, one of many studies that August apparently had.


“Thank you,” Kevan said as he accepted the glass of wine from the Tarkin, a man that the Empire, the First Order, and now, Snoke, all had their eyes on.


For a man without the Force, he’d done well to attract attention to himself. “Of course. It is usually best to intoxicate Force-sensitives before I upset them.”


Kevan laughed a bit at that, “I already know what you’re going to say, don’t worry. It isn’t me you need to worry about upsetting.”


“It’s Snoke,” he said, “Or is it Hux?”


“I’m not here on Hux’s business. You’ve already pissed him off.” Kevan went to the couch and sunk into the plush red before bringing the red to his lips and drinking deep. He could feel August’s eyes on him, assessing him. ‘Mira would like you.’ Red-heads. Liked the First Order as soon as they were there.


She’d like this, too. This…Order. Perhaps she was an Imperialist at heart. First Order at heart.


“I’m here on Supreme Leader Snoke’s business.”


August walked around to the front, and took a seat in the chair that was clearly his – black leather. His feet touched the head of the nexu rug he had laid beneath a glass coffee table.


“He, of course, wants to join him.”


“Have I not made my answer perfectly clear to General Hux?”


“As I said – I’m not here on Hux’s business. I don’t work for Sux—Hux.” Didn’t take orders from Hux, rather.  


He saw that smirk, but August refrained from commenting on the slip. He only asked, “Aren’t they allies?”


“Allies implies they aren’t the same. Snoke has his agenda, Hux has one, too.”


August didn’t drink, though he’d brought the glass to his lips. Eyes narrowed. “What, it’s obvious.”


“It is,” August murmured, By semantics it was obvious, and yet August had not expected to hear it put so bluntly. That meant ill tidings, in his opinion. Something was going wrong internally for Snoke to be seeking his own allies apart from the First Order like this. “I suppose I did not make it clear enough that part of the reason I did not join with the First Order was because of its alliance with Snoke.”


“No, you did. As I said, I already knew your answer was going to be ‘no’.” He sipped the wine.


“Then why are you here?”


“You don’t say no to Snoke. Or that’s what my mentor says,” dismissive wave.


“Kylo Ren?”


“Mira Ren. She’s hopping around Wild Space, escaping the troubles here, leaving me to deal with triplets.”


“Yes, another reason I won’t be joining you,” he looked disgusted.


“Still upset about that alliance, huh?”


“They’re pirates.”


“Technically, politicians.”


“Pirates.”


“Yeah,” Kevan grinned, “But they really learned to share,” another chuckle, and he leaned forward, “If you weren’t married to Julia, you can’t tell me you wouldn’t want to be…friendlier with them.”


August just shook his head. “No matter how many tricks they learned to turn from pirates, I’m afraid my hatred of them goes too deep.”


“Your loss.”


“And your gain.”


“I’ll drink to that,” and Kevan did, seeing that amused twinkle in those blue eyes. “You’re wondering why I’m still here.”


“Yes.”


“Curiosity. Humor me a bit,” he said, setting the glass aside. “You’re an Imperialist. You make that obvious,” he gesture to the propaganda around the Red Study. “But I’ve heard you say the reason you aren’t joining up with the First Order or Snoke is because you don’t want another Palpatine. Doesn’t that…I don’t get how you can be an Imperialist if you don’t support the idea of a Palpatine.”


“I support the idea of strong, centralized leadership, like my party.”


“Which is full to the brim with FO supporters.”


“Don’t remind me,” he put a few fingers to his forehead, “Emperor Palpatine was intelligent, but he reigned through controlled chaos and fear. Instead of bread and circuses, it was spice and war, that kept the masses appeased.” He lowered his hand, “Within the Empire, he bred a competitive environment to ensure no one ever challenged his power. They were too busy challenging their peers. Wilhuff saw this,” he had made it into the triumvirate. “Snoke uses the Force, does he not?”


“He does.”


“That at least makes him better than Palpatine. He is not hiding it,” he sipped the wine. “but he seems the same, aiming to grasp complete control of everything through his ability to manipulate the Force. To make the universe play to his own song and his own reality – ambitious,” August smirked, “but not my cup of wine.” He swirled what remained in his glass, before emptying it. “More?”


“Please.” Kevan’s was almost empty.


August rose, and fetched the bottle, poured more for Kevan, and then himself. He asked then, as he settled back into his seat, “Your mentor, Mira, is out in Wild Space.”


“Yes,” he answered.


“All the more reason to avoid signing on,” when Kevan looked confused, he just asked, “Has she found what Palpatine was looking for?”


Now Kevan looked more confused. Concerned, even, “What was he looking for?”


“You don’t know?” Kevan shook his head, “What a pity,” August relaxed in his recliner, contented that he might know more than Kevan. Perhaps, more than Snoke. Hux. “Perhaps you should ask her if she knows what she’s doing out there.”


“She’s—” and Kevan stopped himself. He grinned, “Clever,” he told August. “Bit of a secret what she’s looking for, anyway.”


“I’m sure it is,” August agreed, but that devious glint never quite left his eyes. “As I’m sure General Hux would find it suspicious if our meeting leaked to him, wouldn’t he?”


Hesitation. Then, “You wouldn’t.”


“I would,” sowing discontent between First Order and Knights was right up August’s alley. “So I suggest you leave. My answer is no. My answer will always be no. Snoke will have to take Eriadu from me by force.”


Kevan rose then. “He will, you know.”


August didn’t appear perturbed. At that time, he didn’t truly believe it. Not with Hux heading the First Order.


Kevan left him then, a bit more perturbed than he intended to be as he wondered what it was Palpatine had been looking for in Wild Space, that made August more wary of joining with them.


What it was Mira was actually searching for.