#stop! stop! your qui gon (number 19) is not the same as my qui gon (numbers 1 through 26)

[jessepinwheel]

What about 13k and chapter 13?

13k puts us in one of the first detective obi-wan and maul conversations:

Slowly, haltingly, he woke from what must have been extremely deep sleep. With a rasping breath, he opened his eyes, a hazy gold-and-red that nearly glowed in the dim infirmary. His Force stretched out like a yawning tooka, sweeping blindly as he oriented himself.

"Maul," I said. "How do you feel?"

Maul froze. His eyes snapped to mine in a glare that lost a lot of its impact in his drowsiness. He snarled. "Kenobi."

"Yes, that's my name," I said.

"So you've returned after all this time," he hissed. His voice was hoarse like he hadn't used it in a long time, but the venom in it got across easily enough. "Do you think you can finish me off, pitiful Jedi?"

So, okay. Apparently, Master Kenobi and Maul had some kind of history, and not a friendly one. I had guessed that much already.

"Considering I took you off of Lotho Minor and brought you to medical assistance, I think we can safely say I'm not planning to finish you off," I said.

Maul sneered, the Force around him turning colder by the moment. "How merciful of you. Kill me and abandon me for so many years, then pretend to rescue me. Why now? Do you think I have finally suffered enough? Do you think I will beg you for forgiveness after you cast me from my rightful place by my Master's side? You think this will stop me from killing you the same way I killed Qui-Gon Jinn? What do you have to say for yourself, Kenobi?"

So Master Jinn was dead in this universe. That was certainly different. "Um. Congratulations, I suppose."

chapter 13 is a cody chapter:

Rex lets out a breath. "Anakin didn't come for me," he says. "I know I'm--I'm just a clone, but he didn't even try. And I'm sure that was the choice he felt was most appropriate. Or maybe he just…didn't realize something might be wrong. But it shouldn't have been you that walked through that door. It should have been Anakin, or Jesse, or Fives or something."

"We were the closest ones who didn't have an active engagement," Cody says. "And General Kenobi wanted to see you personally, since the Darksider who kidnapped you impersonated him."

Rex nods slowly and looks down at his hands. "Right. That makes sense," he says, not sounding completely convinced. "After all, he had just come back from Coruscant and rescuing the Senator. He wouldn't be able to rescue me."

"Rex. Be very careful what you say next."

Rex doesn't respond, not out loud. With his hands, he asks, "Would you shoot your General?"

Cody stands up. "Rex."

"If the General betrayed you, if the General shot your brothers, if the General--"

Cody grabs Rex by the wrists, cutting the signs short. "Rex. I think you've been through a very difficult time. You need rest."

send me a number between 1 and 116 or a chapter between 1 and 19 and I'll post a teaser from race con

[willowcrowned]

having official star wars authors on tumblr is cool until they start talking about canon on your posts

[ilcuoreardendo-fic]

Gift Request

It's Anakin's 19th birthday. A transitional year to be sure. The final year of adolescence before the shift to adulthood. For many padawans, the beginning of the path to their Trials.

Obi-Wan remembers his 19th birthday. He and Qui-Gon had actually been in the Temple and so were a number of his friends, who took it upon themselves to ensure he thoroughly enjoyed the evening.

But Anakin…. He has no close friendships that Obi-Wan knows of. No group of padawans he meets up with after classes or to celebrate the week’s end. Of the few padawans Anakin has spent time with, Obi-Wan only knows of Tru Veld, who is off planet with his master.

Days ago, he’d asked Anakin if there were anything he wanted to do for his birthday and the boy had shrugged.

And today, he seems content to spend his time in the mechanic rooms, tinkering on the speeder he’s rebuilding and making some upgrades to Artoo’s equipment.

Obi-Wan takes it upon himself to at least make one of Anakin’s favorite meals, begging a few ingredients from the kitchens to put together a starblossom tart that filled their rooms with a distinct and delicate sweet scent that has Anakin, when he returns, cocking his head to the side and smiling when he recognizes it.

Obi-Wan pours them both a glass of Toniray. Anakin won’t be of legal drinking age on Coruscant until next year, but Obi-Wan had his first official glass of wine with his master at the same age. “Happy Birthday, Anakin.”

“Thank you, Master.”

Conversation is mostly set aside in favor of eating, though they talk about their upcoming mission, Anakin’s coursework (“All caught up, Master.”) and Artoo’s newest upgrade.

“Rocket boosters?” Obi-Wan asks.

“You never know when a flying droid will come in handy.”

“As you say.”

It’s as Obi-Wan’s finishing up the dishes and Anakin’s preparing tea for him (and, really, the offer to do so should have been Obi-Wan’s first clue) that Anakin speaks.

“Master.... I know what I want for my birthday.”

“And what’s that?” Obi-Wan sets the last dish aside and turns, finding Anakin directly behind him. He takes a step back. The boy is taller than him, has been for the last year, and Obi-Wan suspects there might be one more growth spurt right around the corner, but he’s not thinking about that right now as Anakin steps closer, gait strangely predatory. Obi-Wan has to stop himself from taking another step back and into the wall.

“Just this.”

Obi-Wan has an inkling of what the boy’s going to do, right before he does it. His hands frame Obi-Wan’s face, one sliding back into his hair, catching and holding the back of his head with a finesse that surprises him, the other cupping his jaw. Then Anakin’s mouth is on his and the kiss is…good. A little rushed, a little nerve-filled, but adept, Anakin’s tongue flicking across his lips and sliding into his mouth when Obi-Wan can’t stop his gasp, stroking against his own tongue, tickling over the sensitive and tender inside of his lower lip.

Obi-Wan jerks as he’s pushed into the wall, as the hand that had been cupping his face slides to the small of his back and Anakin’s body presses into his, the firmness of an erection against his hip. And that’s when he breaks the kiss, side steps Anakin’s grip.

“Anakin.” He makes his tone soft. “This is very flattering but also very inappropriate. It’s certainly not uncommon for padawans to develop certain feelings for their masters—“

“It’s not a phase,” Anakin says, mouth turning down, eyes narrowing.

Obi-Wan nods, unwilling to argue the point. “All right. It’s still not appropriate. Any other relationship between padawan and master confuses the initial one and—”

“And when I’m a knight?” Anakin asks and Obi-Wan is very familiar with the set of his mouth, the accompanying tone that suggests this isn’t a subject he’s going to drop. And perhaps it’s selfish or perhaps Obi-Wan doesn’t want a fight to mar an otherwise nice evening, so he cedes ground.

“Then,” Obi-Wan says, “we can talk about it. But don’t worry about it until then, eh? Before that time, you may just find someone more interesting to you than your old master.”

“You’re not old,” Anakin says immediately. “And you’re beautiful. You’ve always been beautiful.” This last is almost whispered as Anakin turns and leaves the kitchenette, leaves their rooms.

Months later, when they’re tasked with seeing to the safety of Senator Amidala, Obi-Wan watches Anakin’s eyes light up when he sees her, watches the nervous dance his padawan does, the posturing and heroic assurances, and while he’s thankful someone else has caught Anakin’s attention—though he does have to remind the boy of their duties as Jedi—there’s the smallest part of him that aches, just a little, at how quickly his place of affection has been given away.