#the bounty hunter code

[swtechspecs]

Mandalorian Battle Armor (labeled in Mando'a)

Source: The Bounty Hunter Code (Becker & Mayer, 2013)

[tay1orscorpse]

dropping in to say dghda star wars au ok bye

[haaaaaaaaaaaave-you-met-ted]

Star Wars: The Bounty Hunter Code: From the Files of Boba Fett - Mandalorian Deities by Mark McHaley

[smthfunnyhappenedonthewaytor3]

Suzaku: I might have an idea. Kallen: Suzaku: Kallen: You MIGHT have an idea or you actually have an idea? Suzaku: No, I have an idea. Let me have my cool, ominous moment. Kallen: Okay, sorry. Suzaku: Kallen: It’s just not cool.

[kats-chaotic-wonderland]

Aliit ori'shya tal'din

[catspawcreates]

@griftythefox on other socials, has been kicking around a Bounty Hunter AU and all my friends are jumping on the bandwagon.

Kill Code leads a robot cult that defends robot rights and hates humans. My friend Fluffy (character Glitters) and I (Nightfall my DCA OC) are his sister wives. Kill Code design by Grifty. Really fun.

[wislana]

hiii!! i know its been a while since i posted and i’m so sorry!!! as my apologies i present to you some sibling angst!! if you’d like to know more about them let me know i really want to talk abt them

[cienie-isengardu]

Cienie’s take on Mandalorian Culture: Kad Ha’rangir and mandalorian traditional weapons, p.2

part 1

There are in theory contradicting sources about Taungs - namely Death Watch Manifesto [Bounty Hunter Code], Star Wars: The Essential Guide to Warfare Author’s Cut, Part 2 – Ancient Coruscant and Republic Collapse, all written within the TCW era (2008-2020) and Mandalorian song Vode An best known from the Republic Commando game soundtrack (2005).

The first source claims that Taung Crusaders “relied primarily on handheld weapons such as beskade and Mythosaur axes” and that those weapon forms inspire modern Mandalorian designs. 

Bounty Hunter Code also included an artistic version of Taungs proving themselves against Mythosaur, while using swords / sabers against the beast.

The problem with the Death Watch Manifesto lies in its political nature and so can’t be treated as an objective source. The point of Manifesto was to gain new loyal members of Death Watch (the loyalists of Old Faith) to fight against Duchess Satine Kryze’s pacifist rule. Text provided simplified version of the conflict between warriors and so called Faithless supported by Republic and Jedi from supposedly perspective of Tor Vizsla[3], including emphasis on repression that happened upon the traditionalists, such like exile to Concordia and intentional destruction of their culture:

“Seven centuries ago, their craven, hut’uune warships and Jedi bombarded our worlds. They incinerated Mandalore’s farmland and forests, leaving much of our homeworld a forsaken desert of fine white sand, and then occupied our worlds. They killed, exiled, or disarmed our warriors and suppressed our ancient codes. 

or

“Our secret operations on Mandalore and Concordia are producing more and more beskar, but Mandalorian armor remains hard to find - and the New Mandalorians treacherously destroyed many heirloom suits of beskar’gam.”

and

“Some of our warriors were exiled to the moon Concordia. Others - myself included - slipped away to resume the ba’slan shev’la”.

This raises a question: how close to the truth is the knowledge provided by the author? If warrior culture were systematically erased for ages within Mandalorian society, then there is a high possibility that author’s knowledge is either 

incomplete - the ancient tradition was passed in secret for ~700 years and from the start was designed to uphold customs that warriors should consider sacred, thus the only one correct and right version to believe. After such a long time Tor Vizsla (and Death Watch members in general) may simply repeat already whitewashed “history lessons” that for ages fitted Faithfuls’ needs. In that case we could assume the author himself does not lie on purpose and simply presents the knowledge passed through generations between traditional Mandalorians.  

deliberately present information in a way that fits the Death Watch’s rhetoric to manipulate/encourage readers to the author's case. This doesn’t mean Tor is lying about events per se, as Sith War, Mandalorian Wars and Republic attack on Mandalore did happen and have confirmation in different sources, however the manner of presenting is clearly non-objective. This is especially noticeable in a way Mandalorians are separated into Faithful working hard to keep their culture alive and thus in symbolic way face and overcome the trials of Kad Ha’rangir (the warrior / positive god) while Pacifist choose the easier way and follow the Arasuum (negative god) or how the text focus so much on connecting modern Mandalorians to their mythical-historical progenitors as Mandalore the Ultimate (who opened Mandalorian warrior ranks to anyone worth of the title) and Taungs in general. 

Of course, those two options don’t exclude each other and may easily co-exist, as the author operates on knowledge passed down to him while presenting it in a favorable way to potential members of Death Watch. Which leads me back to Taungs using swords and what traditional weapons means. 

Taungs at some point needed to pass down their metallurgist knowledge to humans and other assimilated Aliens so it is very possible that their blacksmiths in fact had made those types of weapon, especially in a period of time close to Mandalorian Wars. The new warriors (Neo-Crusaders) needed to be properly equipped  - and many “recruits”came from Republic territories thus could be more familiar with sword fighting than using axes, so the author may not be wrong about ancient Mandalorian design on which the modern beskar swords are based to some degree. With Mandalorian culture existing for over 7000 years, both (Taung) axes and (Mandalorian human) swords at some point became seen as traditional Mandalorian weapons however there is no way to say for sure did Tor Vizsla had a proper knowledge about Taung battle methods or did he stretched the facts for propaganda, as another cultural tradition that humans shared with the ancient Mandalorians?

Considering the nature of the Death Watch Manifesto and mentioned destruction of warrior culture by New Mandalorians (Republic), I tend to favor the latter possibility. Especially when the three most important ancient Mandalorian (Taung) deities presented in the same Manifesto carry no sword-like weapon. Which again raises a question, what is the point of a god called Kad (sword) if the available picture (interpretation) shows him with a Taung-like traditional ax?

Hod Ha’ran too carries an axe while only Arasuum either is using ceremonial(?) cane or his weapon is deliberately held blade down, as a sort of symbol of giving up warrior nature (that author of Manifesto clearly ties to “traitorous” pacifism).   

The ancient Mandalorian deities were led by the all-seeing Kad Ha’rangir (left), shown here beside the trickster god Hod Ha’ran (center) and the slothful Arasuum (right).

This is even more palpable, as:

🔶Mandalore the Indomitable was presented with a typical mythosaur axe and spear - weapons both used by the Taung leader in original comics.

Comparing his image to other important figures from Mandalorian history, this Taung is the only one that holds a traditional weaponry while the Ultimate (and some unnamed characters) has a blaster and the rest don’t hold any armament at all. Interestingly, Tor is pictured twice - first, with a sort of technologically advanced spear/lance(?) and secondly with a darksaber.

The lack of blaster connects him the strongest with Indomitable yet not with the gods who use solely axes. 

🔶the sabers used by Taungs, as far as can be seen on the Mythosaur picture, don’t resemble the presented above sword design (it does however fit the author’s description “a single-edged, curved sword”). One may argue that those two types represent different eras, which is a fair argument - with a culture reaching 7 thousands years there is no reason to think the armament didn’t evolve according to the needs of warriors who took part in endless war campaigns. However, from a propaganda purpose solely, I find it interesting how the author didn’t try to connect each bit of lore of original Mandalorians to swords and in result, highlight the importance of the Darksaber. Instead we are told that Taungs used both swords and axes and the book even presented a bunch of unnamed warriors with sabers, yet the Indomitable and Mandalorian gods are tightly tied to axes first and foremost. It could be really easy to present both of those figures with mentioned single-edged, curved swords that Darksaber resembles to some degree and keep it as a continuation of a great, old tradition. Yet the best known Taung mythological-historical characters do not use swords at all.

Another source, Star Wars: The Essential Guide to Warfare Author’s Cut, Part 2 – Ancient Coruscant was published on starwar.com in 2013 (and still can be read there). This in-universe text gives us some insight about historical education and archaeological works in regard to Taungs and prehistoric Battle of Coruscant:

Nor, says Hu, can we say anything about the Battalions of Zhell, or the Taung legions that confronted them. “When enthusiasts stage recreations of the battle they tend to use replica great axes and swords known from the excavation of Taung burial sites on Roon,” he says. “But by the time the Taungs reached Roon these were ritual objects -- species capable of traveling through hyperspace don’t still rely on edged weapons. Nor do you find such weapons still used by societies as sophisticated as the Zhell nations. It’s as if you staged a recreation of the Siege of Ramsir with the Imperial Army limited to parade sabers.” Hu says he knows it may be unromantic to imagine the confrontation at Zhell occurring between armies that possessed aircraft and atomic weapons. But he urges us to look deeper and examine the qualities of Dha Werda Verda that have kept the poem alive for eons.

(For those unfamiliar with the history of prehistoric Coruscant - Zhell nations were the ancient enemy against whom the forefathers of original Mandalorians fought for control over the planet. Ultimately, Taungs were driven away from the Coruscant and it is generally assumed that Zhells were humans.)

It is understandable that in-universe researchers won’t have the same knowledge as star wars fans familiar with Tales of the Jedi: The Sith War or Knights of the Old Republic various media - and in result in-universe assumptions may differ from “truth” (lore). Here are some vital details to take into account: 

🟢For one, Taungs (ancient Mandalorians) were capable of traveling through hyperspace yet still used edged weapons during fight, as was proved in The Sith Wars. So the assumption axes or swords were solely ritual objects before Taungs even got to Roon doesn’t hold true. The traditional axes and swords may have some ritual importance (and thousands years later Din Djarin, a modern Mandalorian will claim, “weapons are part of my religion”) but their primary function is still fulfilled on the battlefield.

🟢The second detail worth examining is that axes and swords are mentioned solely in the context of graves. Source does not provide any additional information about the nature of those old burial sites and so there is no way to tell whether Taung cremated their dead (a continuation of prehistoric Taung funeral rites known from Dha Werda Verda poem?) or preferred skeleton burials. We don’t have any clue where the weapons were placed in the graves, if swords and axes were next to each other and if not, which kind of weapon were more often found in the closest immediate vicinity of the remains. There is also no information on what kind of advanced research was conducted on the blades to test if those were indeed battle weapons or items forged solely to fulfill the cultural/religious purpose. Due to lack of additional data, we can’t exclude a possibility that in one grave several weapons could be deposited and only one or two truly belonged and were used by the dead while the rest was simply grave goods - like the trophies taken from defeated enemies, a parting gift from the Taung community or, in case Roon was inhabited by other species (conquered and dominated or living peaceful alongside warriors?), a grave good related to a different social group and/or culture. Additionally, a specific funeral rites like cremation may not leave enough organic remains for a proper science research. If Taungs co-existed with other species, the graves with swords could belong to non-Taungs, either as a sign of honor /good relationship between separated cultures or as sacrificial burials on the occasion of Taung's funeral (as sacrifice of a slave/conquered people). Of course, those are just possibilities worth taking into account though sadly, we do not know the extent of in-universe archaeological research in that regard.

With such a large period of time Taungs spent on Roon, there is a great potential to create a proper correlation between type of weapon (its shape) and the chronology of burials and to theorize which weapon and when were the most popular. Similarly, there should be research done about correlation between type of weapon and alleged age, status and battle injuries of dead. As in, a certain type of weapon may be more often found in graves of esteemed adults (warriors) while the juvenile ones equipped appropriate to their age or lack of fighting experience. 

Of course, Roon burial sites are older than 7.000 years and so archaeological excavations won’t solve all Taung cultural riddles and will depend a lot on the type of burial and its state of preservation but the point is, fiding swords in Taung graves does not automatically means it was their traditional weapon.  

Thinking more about the issue, I’m intrigued by no mention of spears - and sure, organic parts such as wooden spar wouldn’t survive to modern times without proper conditions yet the stone or metal spearhead could. Especially since there are more examples of Taung using spear and spear-like weapons than swords.

The Essential Guide to Warfare gives an illustration of Taungs on prehistoric Coruscant (Notron) and if we take it at face value, spears are presented as a common weapon. 

In the same sourcebook, The Indomitable was presented as holding glaive(?), while The Sith War also featured spear-like weapons used by Taung!Mandalorians alongside mythosaur axes, including Mandalore himself.

In The Essential Guide to Warfare even the Ultimate was presented with a spear - and doesn’t this picture resemble the prehistoric Taung leader?

Of course, over time Taung & early Mandalorians’ weapon preferences could change, yet the spears and axes are present in both a prehistoric and ancient period of their culture, while swords themselves either fell out of favor or have never been that common to begin with. 

🟢 The third matter is that Taungs in times of living on Roon weren’t Mandalorians yet. Galaxy at War sourcebook states that they “battled the native Human nations for control of Coruscant before being driven off and forced to flee to the Outer Rim world of Roon, where they remain for millennia until the legendary Mandalore the First leads them to conquer another world.” 

Of course, Taung primary culture is what Mandalorians were based on, yet millennia is a long span of time and so naturally cultural changes happened within their society. There is no clue if Kad Ha’rangir even predates the Mandalorian era or if his cult evolved once Mandalorians for good started their holy crusaders and destruction brought to many species. On one hand, if Kad Ha’rangir was a part of mythology existing during the Roon era, then we could argue that using swords could become a sort of religious taboo once Mandalorian culture came to life. Thus Taungs relied on mythosaur axes (probably based on the great axes mentioned in Author’s cut), spears and similar weapons while swords were sacred and maybe played a special religious function. However, if that was true, then why would Taung!Mandalorians accept human warriors / vassals to carry a sacred weapon? 

Ancient Mandalorian society is implied to have more rigid structures than modern one, with a clear division into warriors and non-warriors social classes. If non-Taung part of society and newcomers could join Crusaders ranks before the Sith War then they should follow the same religious and/or cultural practices. Which could explain the general lack of traditional swords between Mandalore the Indomitable’s soldiers seen in the comics regardless of their biological species. At the same time Star Wars Miniatures included in Bounty Hunters set presented Mandalorian Blademaster - the set is not limited to one era but considering that 

A) Mandalorian miniatures don’t have Neo-Crusader typical armors - if anything the shape and gray-black colors resemble Ordo Canderous’ armor[4] who according to KotOR Campaign Guide was already a warrior before Neo-Crusaders dominated Mandalorian culture

B) includes Mandalore the Indomitable and basilisk war droid rode by a warrior with again, no Neo-Crusader armor 

C) various additional quotes and description on cards 

may as well imply the Sith War and/or pre-Neo Crusaders culture.

Of course, there is no way to tell for sure if said Mandalorian Blademaster was meant to represent Taung or human/non-Taung species yet the existence of warriors specialized in swordfighting may suggest using swords was not a matter of religious taboo in the original warrior culture. At least not during the twilight period of their religion, as in the Indomitable’s times Taungs were said to worship the war itself, not gods in their primal version. 

If we go further into the Great Adoption era, swords become more and more visible between warriors, as was presented:

on already mentioned illustration from The Essential Guide to Warfare

and here it is important to note that swords are held by Neo-Crusader(s) and Mandallian Giants. The latter were one of the first alien species included into Taung!Mandalorian ranks, before humans and Great Adoption.

Star Wars Miniatures also introduces Neo-Crusaders using swords such as 

Mandalorian Marauder - KotOR set - with description “For years the Mandalorians were content to raid worlds on the Outer Rim, but during the Mandalorian Wars they began launching assaults across the Old Republic” suggesting the era of Great Adoption (opening ranks to non-Taungs) 

Mandalorian Jedi Hunter - Dark Times set - with description “Some of the scattered survivors of the Mandalorian Wars seek out Jedi to punish for their humiliation”. This model (quote) is clearly representing the post-Mandalorian Wars era in which Taungs are believed to be extinct. 

yet still didn’t dominate the ratio of melee weapons. So we have previously mentioned KotOR Campaign Guide with majority of characters described as humans and whose stats of traditional weapons varied from unarmed, dragger, knife, mace, vibroblade, vibrodagger or bayonet while mythosaur axes are solely mentioned in regard to two Taungs, Mandalore the Indomitable and Ultimate. 

From the above set, Canderous Ordo (future Mandalore the Preserver) has a dragger gauntlet, while the KotOR II Prima Guide advises to equip Ordo with swords.

However in modern times, human Mandalorians are more commonly tied to swords (and knives or vibroblades in general) than axes, as can be seen in various sources:

A Practical Man

"And my name's Briika," said her hard-eyed mother. Her name came from the word for "smile," and Beviin enjoyed that kind of irony. She could shrivel anyone with that stare. "Those crushgaunts are illegal. But you know that." "I just like antiques," Beviin said. He patted the scabbard on his belt, rattling an ancient saber in its sheath. "I've got a proper beskad, too. On the road for a reason?"

and

It could have ripped Beviin open like a canister. But his armor was forged from beskar, real Mandalorian iron that even Yuuzhan Vong weapons might not penetrate. He reached into his belt and drew his ancient beskad, a short razor-edged saber forged from the same.

Republic Commando: Triple Zero

"I opted to take on Vau. He had a real Mando iron saber, and I was unarmed.”

Collapse of the Republic sourcebook

Jango Fett: Open Seasons 

Star Wars Miniatures

Mandalorian Quartermaster whose design clearly was inspired by Death Watchman from Jango Fett: Open Seasons.

Star Wars – Clan Wren Unit Expansion 

Card: Beskad Duelist (x)

The Clone Wars

introduced Darksaber

and the characteristic art seen in Pre Vizsla (and later in Duchess Satine)’s residence

and the mural decorating the city:

All presented there ancient(?) Mandalorian warriors carry a simple, two-edge(?) swords. 

Sidenote: Darksaber originally was introduced as heirloom passed down in clan Vizsla, not the item representing the right to title of Mandalore. However since the later lore presented Tarre Vizsla, the first and for now the only New Canon Mandalorian Jedi, there is a question - should TCW!art be seen as a cultural shift from Taung weapons to human swords inspired by the figure of Tarre and his legendary darksaber?

Star Wars Rebels

presents Darksaber as ancient and culturally important weapon:

"I didn't know Mandalorians developed a type of lightsaber." "We didn't. This was one of a kind. Legend tells that it was created over a thousand years ago by Tarre Vizsla, the first Mandalorian ever inducted into the Jedi Order. After his passing, the Jedi kept the saber in their temple. That was until members of House Vizsla snuck in and liberated it. They used the saber to unify the people and strike down those who would oppose them. One time, they ruled all of Mandalore wielding this blade."

Forces of Destiny: Art History

(the short animation can be seen here)

The statue of Tarre Vizsla though wasn’t presented in full details, clearly was built to represent the legendary Mandalorian holding sword blade down that brings to mind the medieval-like knights.

The Mandalorian

follows the The Clone Wars and Rebels take on Mandalorian culture with an even greater importance put on Darksaber and its meaning for warriors. The show treats Darksaber not only as an ancient relic and as a valid claim to the “throne”, but also as mystical item that may not accept its wielder like it did with Paz Vizsla (though this put under question all previously Mandalorians using the sword who were far away from heroic side of characters) and may even be cursed, as said Armorer:

If, however, it is not won in combat and falls into the hands of the undeserving, it will be a curse unto the nation. Mandalore will be laid to waste and its people scattered to the four winds”

Looking at the sources, it can’t be argued that some major cultural changes happened to Mandalorians and the further from Taung hegemony era, the swords became more prominent and in some cases, like Darksaber, are vital to secure “line of succession”. This shift is as much about weapons as about warriors themselves, as modern Mandalorian society is dominated by humans - although how much of an important role religion (Kad Ha’rangir) played in this change is up to debate.

Even if Taung society living on Roon used swords - whatever as weapons or ritual objects - during Mandalorian era this kind of weaponary is hardly seen used by confirmed Taung warriors (BHC so far is an exception) while modern human Mandalorians moved away from the axes in favor of swords, especially Darksaber.

[Next part] further sources to dispute

SIDENOTES:

[3] I say supposedly, as I support Jango Fett’s doubt it was written by Tor Vizsla. C’mon, can anyone imagine Legends!Tor writing anything like that?

[4] For better comparison, the typical Crusader and Neo-Crusader armors look like this

Ordo’s own armor resembles the Neo-Crusader type however it seems to still keep some elements from the previous kind. Ordo himself took part in the Mandalorian Wars yet as a veteran he was bitter about how his people from proud warriors degraded into mercenaries and criminals. When he became a Mandalore, he tried to bring Mandalorians back to the honorable ways which is why I personally count him more as example of pre-Neo Crusader Mandalorian culture.

[treeships]

coughs. hi still here

Always holding Ven-Ghan’s hand on main its my single braincell at time. I like to think about shared interests/hobbies (if.. yknow you could say he’s someone to have hobbies. maybe more just.. tasks he finds comfort in and doesnt mind the process.)

Being an auto tech/car enthusiast sometimes I feel that we could find an odd shared topic over engineering. Lord knows i’d wanna rack up question after question over “alien” engineering and design. “Why does your ship have (xyz) is it similar in sense as to why (a) vehicle has (b) feature so its easier to (c)” smthn yada yada. I just like talking about how stuff is designed sometimes.

Actually before I went into the automotive trade I really wanted to follow up on astrobiology. I just like space. I’d love to hear the endless stories of hunts and explorations he would have. Space is cool 👍 shoutout sci-fi shows and movies for making younger me fixate on the stars.

On that too god i’ve been rewatching Farscape a ton lately. Sometimes I wonder what his thoughts would be on shows/movies like that. Is Farscape a realistic depiction of whats out there? Or is it more in line with Star Trek? What about Andromeda?

Anyway yeah thumbs up. Heres a ramble.

[haaaaaaaaaaaave-you-met-ted]

Star Wars: The Bounty Hunter Code: From the Files of Boba Fett - Ancient Mythosaur being ridden by Brian Rood

[smthfunnyhappenedonthewaytor3]

Nunnally: What are amphetamines? Milly: Drugs that can go on land and water. Nunnally: Ohh…

[crownshattered]

|| hmmmmmmmmmmmmm hsr lia (who is The Hunt and probably a 4 star) having a 5 star "version" whenever she uses her powers(?) and she becomes The Nihility

[tieressian]

what’s fun about making a drv3 oc is that if they end up being a kinda stereotypical/caricatured version of their talent it doesn’t matter because obvi team danganronpa would do that too

[uh-i-think-its-frank]

TRADITION

Master!Luke Skywalker x Padawan!Reader

Luke Skywalker is on a mission to rebuild the Jedi Order, using traditional methods, training and ideology from the Jedi Code.

His first ever student makes him question tradition.

slow burn | forbidden love | mild angst | smut MDNI

no use of y/n | AFAB reader | she/her pronouns

set just before the Book of Boba Fett

word count: 14k

masterlist | fic recs | ao3

a/n: this is my first published fic in a very, very long time so constructive criticism is welcomed! I have an idea for an angsty pt. 2 so lmk if u want it hehe

Training under Luke Skywalker was difficult. 

 Despite being a polite and gentle man, his methods of teaching were strict and calculated - each lesson was designed to have a specific outcome and he always made sure she came out of it with the skill and knowledge he intended. This often meant early mornings and late nights, aching muscles and a brain that felt like jelly after focussing on strengthening her connection to the Force. 

 The most difficult part of training under Luke Skywalker, however, was Luke Skywalker himself. 

 She had been new to this galaxy when he found her. She honestly doesn’t quite know how she even managed to get from Earth the planet of Tatooine. It involved her bizarrely finding a broken down ship in the woods near her house and somehow getting taken into space by the inhabitants of said ship, ending up galaxies away and missing the primitive planet Earth. 

 The men that brought her to the desert planet were smugglers, who swore they saved her life because they were certain that whatever debt collectors they had chasing after them would’ve killed her if they knew that she’d seen them. And yet, after many weeks of travelling and not getting along, they just left her on this rock to fend for herself with no knowledge of where she was or how to get home, like true saviours.

 Thankfully, however, due to having to help her kidnappers fix their ship after every firefight they got into, she'd found a talent in mechanics, and managed to get by working for Peli Motto, fixing up whatever rust buckets came through her hangars in Mos Eisley Spaceport. 

 Peli’s hangars were usually home to bounty hunters and smugglers, working for the Bounty Hunters Guild or the Hutts and were just as rough and grimy as you’d expect them to be. And while the odd everyday traveller would come through, it was rarely a special occasion and usually ended with the older woman she called her boss scaring them off with her no-nonsense attitude, always telling it like it is.

 So when a ship landed and Peli stopped mid-curse when she turned and saw the x-wing sitting in her Hangar, back straightening when she saw the pilot, the Earthling woman knew he had to be serious business. 

 She moved to stand beside Peli, watching the lid of the ship lift to reveal who was possibly the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen unbuckling himself from his seat. She found that her own back straightened without realising it as she watched him, clad in black, perfectly fitting robes, pristine black boots and a single gloved hand. She side eyed Peli for any hint or explanation as to who this was and why he seemed so important. 

 Peli caught her gaze but ignored her, boisterously walking over to the ship, welcoming him as the mystery man lifted himself out of the cockpit. 

 His feet hit the ground and he regarded her boss with a polite smile, resting his clasped hands behind his back as he gave her a small bow in thanks.

 She decided to walk out after Peli, moving out from under the shade of the tool shop and into the sunlight of the open hangar. The blonde man's eyes lifted to meet hers, as if knowing she’d been there all along and gave a small nod, a look on his face that seemed almost… determined. Like he had something planned.

 After a while of Peli talking his ear off and offering him any repairs he needed or even a service on his ship free of charge, he finally explained that he was there for a reason. And boy, was it not what she expected. 

 He introduced himself as Luke Skywalker and the young woman shared a look with Peli, eyes wide. She recognised the name from the Holothrillers she and her boss would watch together late at night in the tool shop, as they ate their bland dinners with greasy hands while Peli elaborated on some of the plot points, explaining how the actions in the films had actually affected the rest of the galaxy in real life and where she was and what she was doing when the events happened. 

 The younger woman had quickly grown enamoured by the story, asking Peli a million and one questions about the Empire and Luke Skywalker and she’d since only known him as the farm boy who became a Jedi and defeated the Empire. A Historical figure. A man she’d never meet. And yet, here he was. 

 He explained that he was on a mission to rebuild the Jedi Order, and that he had been searching for others who were Force-sensitive to help rebuild it with him. He said he’d already contacted many. Used the Force to find them and travelled to ask them for their assistance, offering to train them if they needed. But they’d all turned him down. 

 There had been rumours of a band of Inquisitors, Jedi Killers, still on the hunt, despite the Great Jedi Purge ending over 6 standard years ago, not long before the fall of the Empire. This rumour had made the surviving Jedi, Force-users and parents with Force-sensitive children anxious to reveal themselves for fear of their lives. 

 It was an understandable fear, one that the lone Jedi found reasonable. Though, it was tiresome to travel to so many different planets to make the same speech, only to get turned down out of fear. 

 Luke explained that he could feel the Earthlings' connection to the Force. It was distant and lacking strength, but still, there was something there that could be worked upon, that could be strengthened with the correct training. He’d travelled there, to her workplace and makeshift home just to ask her to join him, to train with him and become a Jedi Knight and use her knowledge to train others and keep the Jedi Order alive. To rebuild what was lost to the Dark Side for many years. 

 Maybe it was her ignorance on the matter due to her brief time in this galaxy, or maybe it was simply the desperate look in his beautiful eyes. But after a bit of convincing and advice from Peli to do what she felt was right - she’d accepted his offer.

 The next day, they’d travelled to Ossus where Luke and many builder droids had been and were continuing to build a new Jedi Temple, to be fit with enough rooms and space to train whole generations of Force-sensitive children when the time was right. But for now, the only occupants of the large Temple were just her and her new Master, Luke Skywalker. 

 He’d had servant droids take her measurements and get her fitted for her own set of Padawan robes as well as a whole new wardrobe of sleep and casual attire, suitable for the Temple. And despite being thankful for the new, perfectly-fitted apparel, she fought tooth and nail until the droids finally allowed her to keep her ill-fitting, grease-stained overalls in the back of her wardrobe, only after they had been deep-cleaned. She knew she may never get the chance to wear them again, much to her dismay, but she couldn’t bear to part with them.

 She was a lot older than most Padawan ever were. Most were trained as young children through to adulthood, where they’d be deemed true Jedi Knights by the age she already was, but desperate times called for desperate measures. There were only a handful of Jedi left, after all, and even less who were willing to aid the New Jedi Order. 

 So, in an attempt to make up for lost time, she tried her absolute hardest, diving head-first into her training. She spent her days learning from her Master and her nights in the Temple library, studying the history of her predecessors, staying up much too late and waking up much too early just to do it all over again.

 She was passionate and hardworking, things that she prided herself on. Her work ethic prevailed over anything else… Usually. 

 See, she had an issue. She was great with history. She’d gotten to a point just mere weeks into her training that she could recite a play-by-play of the Clone Wars if asked to, and found herself absolutely enthralled by every piece of information that she absorbed in that library, going through the thickest history books within a single day if she ever got the privilege of having one off - which was rare. But she excelled in this area because she could do it alone.

 Connecting with the Force, physical training or anything else she had to work on with Master Luke was where she struggled. Simply because, well… 

 She found him so distracting. 

 At first, it was nearly unbearable. She would flush every time he would touch her to position her body during training. She'd get caught up thinking about him when she was meant to be meditating. She'd stutter when he'd ask her questions that should've been simple to answer, like how she slept or about the book she’d stayed up too late reading. 

 It was like she was in high school again, crushing over a boy so badly that even the mildest of interactions had her smiling goofily at herself when she lay in bed that night, excited to go to sleep just so she could see him again the next day. But this was worse. Much, much worse. 

 Because not only was this man her teacher, her Master. It was also written, directly into the scriptures that she read every night before she went to sleep.

     A Jedi does not act for personal power or wealth.

But only seeks knowledge and enlightenment.

 This scripture, whilst it encourages selflessness and promotes the importance of preserving the knowledge of not only the Jedi, but the galaxy itself, the things that make up the environment around them, also means something deeper, more complicated. And it’s everywhere - all throughout the Jedi Code.

      There is no emotion, there is peace. 

 When master Luke had first shared the Mantra with her a few weeks ago, and recited the oath she must take, she had asked him to elaborate. To explain every rule she was meant to follow and every promise she had to keep. She’d been excited. Eager to learn more of her new life, and the things that lay within it. 

 But the news had been crushing to her. When she realised that attachment was not frowned upon, not thought of as taboo, but forbidden entirely, she’d gone quiet.

 The thought rolled through her head over and over, until it didn’t sound real anymore and Luke's usually relaxed face fell into a small frown, watching her absorb the information.

”I…” She began, a lump forming in her throat that she had to swallow. “I’m to never get married? … Never have children?” She asked, tears welling in her eyes. 

He was hesitant to respond, able to see, able to feel the sadness within her. The weight of this new knowledge, crushing. He sighed, saddened to have to hurt her further by reconfirming;

“Emotions can cloud our thoughts. These clouds can lead us into unfathomable darkness.” He’d responded, bluntly. “Only those who find a way to rise above the darkness are deemed worthy to become Jedi.”

 It was a hard hurdle to get over, to accept, having always thought of herself as the kind to fall in love, get married and settle down. Become a mother, start a family. Eventually. When she met one who was worthy of her love and her, theirs. 

 But over time, she grew to accept her new way of life. As her connection to the Force grew, so did her understanding of the Dark Side and the necessity of that rule. 

 With her academic knowledge of the Force, her determination and the uphill battle that was shoving her crush down. Way deep, deep down. She began excelling at her training. She was able to meditate fully with little to no distraction, had found their day exercises across the creeks and forests of Ossus easier to handle and she even managed to blush only a little when he touched her body during their hand-to-hand combat lessons. 

 It was now, only in her free time that she found herself thinking of him. After he dismissed her for the day and she was no longer required to have to think of him professionally. It was only in the safety of her quarters, in the dark of night as she lay in bed, that she allowed herself to think of his bare hand touching her skin and the fire she felt in her stomach whenever it did. His chest, warm and inviting, vibrating with his voice as he told her how to position her hands to produce the most amount of force in combat. His biceps, that she’d only seen once, on a particularly hot day on the sunny planet they inhabited and he had been stretching after training, muscles flexing with the movement of his arms. 

 She groaned with frustration, pressing her pillow into her face to muffle the sound.  

 An uphill battle, indeed. 

-

 The next day had been the same as any other. Morning meditation, breakfast and then Force training. But Master Luke pleasantly surprised her when he had made mention of learning something new.

 It was midday on Ossus as they sat across from each other, under the shade of a large tree. Stacks of rocks surrounded them, evidence of previous training and meditation sessions. She wore a soft, excited grin on her face, eager to learn. His sandy hair was neat as he spoke to her, saying her name gently. 

“In your studies, have you read about Mind Probing?”

 Her grin faltered. 

 Oh, dear Maker, no.

 She nodded gently, heat threatening to rise to her cheeks as anxiety slowly filled her and she was thankful that she’d gotten better at mentally shielding, hoping that her Master could not feel her nerves through her Force signature. 

 She remembers the exact paragraph that she read on Mind-Probing simply because she had had to put the book down as dread filled her at the realisation that she would need to be taught this at some point. She had no clue it would be so soon. 

 Master Luke’s face remained his usual calm. If he’d noticed her panic in any way, he didn’t show it, nodding in approval and continuing to speak. 

 “Good.” 

 She hated the shiver that ran through her at his praise. 

 “The Force's influence over the minds of other beings can be a valuable tool in the right hands, but it can be easily abused as well.” He began, resting his hands on his knees. “As you will have read; Those on the dark side have been known to use the Force to read the thoughts of other beings and, if necessary, search their minds for information.”

 The young woman nodded, trying to keep her face straight as she anxiously toyed with the fabric of her pants. Master Luke’s face showed pure relaxation as he continued.

”It is important for a Jedi to be capable of protecting themselves against such an intrusion, which is why we are going to be practising shielding against the probe.” He finished, observing her silently for a long moment.

 She averted her gaze, looking down at a piece of fabric she’d been running her nail over, unable to look at him in the eye, for she was scared of just how much he would be able to see in hers. 

 “You’re nervous.” It wasn’t a question, but merely a statement of truth. One that was impossible to deny, so she didn’t. 

 She nodded, looking back up at him as she did so. She paused her anxious fidgeting to bring her hands into her lap, eyebrows furrowing as she searched for the right words to say. 

 “This process is known for being exceptionally painful for the subject undergoing the probe." He stated before she could bring herself to speak. “Is it the pain you fear?”

 She was silent for a moment, knowing that if she simply lied and said yes, her Master would see right through her even with her mental shields up. Because, well… she was an absolutely terrible liar. 

 Master Luke had caught her out a few times; when she’d tell him that she didn’t stay up too late, or that she’d drank plenty of water that day. He always told her that her face gave her away; like a child that had been caught with their hand in the cookie jar. 

 She let out a small sigh. 

 “Among other things… yes.” She admitted, a blush dusting her cheeks. 

 Master Luke observed her for a moment longer before nodding gently, a look of understanding in his eyes.

 “I understand that it’s invasive.” He began, raising his gloved hand, as if taking an oath. “I can assure you that I will not look further into your mind than what’s necessary.” He promised, earnestly. 

 She flushed, feeling a bit like a deer in the headlights as she blinked away her embarrassment. She hated that she seemed to be so easy for him to read. Has she always been like this? Or does Luke's connection to the Force make him exceptionally good at picking up people's emotions? 

 It often made her wonder if he was truly as blind to her attraction for him as he made himself out to be. Surely if he could tell what she was thinking now, he wouldn’t be so blind as to miss her fruitless pining.

 And if that was the case, then maybe whatever he sees in her head today will be of no surprise?

 She breathed deeply, straightening her back and placing her hands back on her knees, as if she was about to start meditating. 

 She nodded, breathing out a quiet ‘okay’ as permission. 

 He mimicked her posture as he spoke. 

 “When I enter your mind, you will be able to feel me. I will have full access to your thoughts and your memories.” He began, watching her face carefully to ensure she understood his words. 

 “It will, in fact, be painful and you may find it hard to concentrate. However, your goal is to find me within your mind and push me out.”

 She let out a nervous breath, rolling her neck and shoulders back to loosen them, taking some time to ground herself and connect with the environment around her. Using the Force to extend her senses and calm her. She nodded, only closing her eyes after witnessing Master Luke close his, seeming satisfied with her consent. 

 She took a brief moment to relax. Focussing on breathing and emptying her mind to bring herself to a light meditative state, hoping to prepare herself for the experience and calm her anxiously beating heart in one fell swoop whilst she waited for the man in front of her to invade her mind. 

 It started as something she could sense. Like a disturbance in the air around her, interrupting the usual waves of energy she was used to. 

 It exudes calm, much like Luke himself, and starts out as feeling quite unimposing. Unthreatening. She thinks to herself that the sensation is odd - unlike anything she has felt before. But the hair on the back of her neck stands as it approaches her. Almost like a tendril, seen with unseeing eyes through her Force signature, skulking through her environment like a serpent looking for prey. She finds herself bristelling at its proximity, goosebumps rising on her skin as she feels its disturbance wade through her energy. Its calm was unwavering, yet the knowledge of its intention made her nervous. 

 She gulped as it paused in front of her, waiting and patient. 

 She tried to brace herself, tried to find a way to preemptively build up a wall in her head to prevent it from entering. Yet still, when it struck, she was unprepared. 

 She whimpered when it hit her, a pain shooting through her skull, like a hundred migraines occurring at once. Her body tensed and her face screwed up in pain, a blur of sensations and imagery and emotion blew through her and her breathing quickened. A strangled cry escaped her lips.

 But suddenly, she could see. 

 Luke was sitting in front of her, under their tree. The picture was hazy, as though a camera was going in and out of focus but he was there all the same; discussing Mind Probing, the wind blowing through his hair as she thought about how beautiful he was. Just as she had just moments ago. 

 She felt another bout of pain, gritting her teeth to prevent from crying out as the imagery changed, to the mediation they’d done earlier that day. Then again, to her breakfast. 

 Images of her most recent days flowed through her, the pain getting worse and worse as the memories sped past, the pressure in her mind expanding as the memories went further back, to when they first started training together. When all she thought about was Luke. Her stolen glances, her silent pining.

 Through the pain, she felt a pang of embarrassment in her chest, panic shooting through her body as she clutched the fabric of her pants. She struggled to get ahold of herself, to capture her own thoughts through the fog of Luke in her head and the pain making its way down her spine. 

 Watching him as he stretched. Gazing him up and down.

 She let out a grunt as she felt him pushing further, her eyelashes growing wet as tears built up in her eyes as she forced herself to breath strangled breaths, searching desperately for a way to push him out. 

 She imagined a wall - a barrier. Similar to the one she used for her usual mental shielding, but it was weak against his effort. He pushed against it. 

 His arms through his tunic. The feeling she got between her legs when she stared at his hands for too long. 

 She let out a strained sob, eyebrows furrowing and teeth gritting as she began pushing, the image growing blurry with her effort. 

 She could feel him resisting, pushing himself against the imaginary wall she’d built, trying to wiggle himself through. 

She found her embarrassment begin to bubble, flipping inside her chest and morphing to anger. Frustration. The fire of the new emotion helped her as she imagined the wall moving forward, back through her thoughts and memories, shoving against the intrusion, slowly forcing him back out. 

 The pain grew easier to handle the further forward she pushed, but her mind and body grew tired. She put everything into pushing him back, back to the beginning where he kept her fighting for another moment, pushing against the barrier she struggled desperately to keep up. 

 She could feel the sweat beading at her forehead as she fought, a shaky breath escaping her as she pushed and pushed and pushed until he eventually, finally, he relented, letting go so suddenly that she hadn't even realised what was happening as a blur of imagery and emotions blew passed her, feeling as though she was falling; hurtling through the Force. 

 For a moment, she thought she may have gotten lost in her own head. Somehow made a mess of herself and had spun out of control in her own mind. 

 But as she slowed, an image grew clearer, not of Luke, but of herself. 

 She sat in the Temple, at the dining table where they ate all their meals, nose buried in one of the historical texts that she could hardly put down, looking awfully concentrated. 

 She lifted a spoon full of soup up, not daring to take her eyes off the book for even a second as she struggled to find her own mouth, completely missing and dipping her chin in the spoon of soup. 

 A rush of amusement ran through her own body as she watched herself, feeling the ghost of a smile tugging at her lips as affection bubbled in her chest, heart beating the tiniest bit harder. 

 Confusion swam through her mind, not understanding quite what was going on. So, she pushed forward, the imagery changing, swirling wispily around her as if in a dream. 

 She could see herself again, during their runs through the bamboo forest, hopping on the stones across the creek. 

 She pushed once more, only to see the ceiling of a room she didn’t recognise and was overcome with pleasure, thoughts of herself flooding her mind as her pleasure increased; the ghost of a deep moan emerging from the memory. 

 Without warning, a flash of white surrounded her and she felt as if she was travelling a million miles an hour, hurtling through memories once again as she was shoved out with so much force, she physically toppled back. 

 She took heaving breaths as confusion clouded her, bringing a hand up to her sore head, groaning. She lay on her back for a moment before moving an arm underneath her to lift herself up into a half-seated position, resting her weight on one arm as she used her other hand to wipe the tears from her cheeks, catching her breath. 

 She opened her eyes, the sun was blinding as they focussed on the figure in front of her, taking a second to adjust in her disorientation. The blurriness cleared to reveal Master Luke in front of her, red faced and mouth agape, looking absolutely mortified.

 Understanding flooded her as she finally realised what she had just experienced. Her eyes widened, blinking in awe as she opened her mouth to speak but found herself hesitating.

 She pushed herself up fully, resting her weight on her hand. 

 "D-did I just-" she began but stopped short when Luke stood up. 

 She watched as he lifted himself off the grass, smoothing out his tunic and pants, face now back to its usual blank state but cheeks still fiery red and for the first time ever, he was avoiding eye contact with her. 

 "Master Luke, I'm sorry, I didn't-" She wanted to grovel at his feet after what she'd done, apologise for having invaded his personal space. But he raised his hand, signalling her to stop. 

 He was silent for a second, seeming to need to collect himself before speaking, looking down at his feet as he cleared his throat. 

 "I think that's enough for today. We'll pick back up tomorrow." His voice had a polite tone, but there was a roughness to it that she hadn't heard before, like he was holding back frustration. 

 She wanted to speak again, to apologise. She even opened her mouth to do so, but found any potential words dead in her throat. 

 "You're dismissed." He looked down at the younger woman for a brief second and nodded curtly before beginning to walk back to the temple, his strides longer and faster than she was used to, leaving her under the shade of their tree to process what had just happened. 

 She spent the rest of the day alone, trying her hardest to train independently, despite having been dismissed by Luke, but finding herself so distracted that she decided to just finish training early anyway, heading back to the temple and pottering around, trying to rid herself of the guilt that sat in the pit of her stomach. 

 She knew Luke must’ve been really upset when he didn’t show up for dinner. When the servant droid placed her plate in front of her and hadn’t returned to place one on the other side of the table, she felt her heart sink a little more.

 She sighed, moving her padawan braid behind her shoulder and began eating solemnly. 

 She felt terrible for what she did, invading his privacy like that. Having made him look at her the way that he did, unable to look her in the eye. Like he had been betrayed. 

 But the worst part of it all, what kept eating away at her; she hated to admit it. Hated to be in direct violation of the Jedi Code by being so utterly selfish by finding that the guilt that bubbled in her gut, did not come from the invasion of privacy, but from the knowledge that she had enjoyed what she saw. The image played over and over again in her head, involuntarily, as if it was a malfunctioning hologram, skipping over itself to replay all over. 

 The guilt followed her to bed that night, where instead of smiling up at her ceiling like she often did, her fingers twitched by her sides as she lay awake, filled with the knowledge that he had pleasured himself while thinking of her.

 It took every ounce of self restraint to not do the same - knowing she wouldn’t be able to look him in the eye tomorrow if she did. 

 The next morning was bright and warm as she breathed deeply under their tree, body relaxed and mind empty as the rocks around her hovered silently. 

 Luke was usually already under the tree when she arrived, having been meditating for Maker knows how long before she even left the Temple, but when he hadn’t been sitting in his usual place when she walked up the small hill today, she had accepted, with much disappointment, that she would be training on her own for the day. 

 She was, however, pleasantly surprised when she felt a familiar presence enter her senses. Despite her eyes being closed, she could see him, walking toward their tree, looking at her with his usual neutral expression as he adjusted his leather glove on his right hand, no sign of the blush that graced his cheeks yesterday afternoon. 

 Although, she noticed something about him immediately. That something was different. It took her a moment of mulling it over to realise that it was that his presence in the Force seemed… hollow, almost. Like something was missing. 

 She quickly realised that he was guarded. Shielding himself from her. 

 “I was starting to think I’d be training on my own today.” She stated when he’d gotten close. 

 He was silent for a moment and she could see him pause in front of her, looking down at her as he seemed to collect his thoughts. 

 ”I’m sorry for running late.” He said, moving toward his usual place in front of her.

 She could hear the rustling of his clothes as he moved his hands to his sides, looking at her with that unreadable look that she loved and hated. His breathing was relaxed but he had a tenseness in his shoulders that was not usually there. 

 “Don’t apologise,” She began, opening her eyes slowly to look up at him properly. “I’d be upset at me too, after what I did yesterday.” 

 He said nothing as he stared at her, face relaxed except for a soft furrow of his brow. She sighed, lowering the rocks around her gently to the ground and moving her hands into her lap, toying with her fingers. 

 “I… invaded your privacy. I entered your mind without your permission, and I apologise for that.” She said, thankful that she could finally get the apology out in the open, after sitting with the weight of it on her shoulders since the second she’d seen his face yesterday.

 She found it hard to look directly at him, as despite him being a beautiful and kind man, he was intimidating. He was often hard to read, even when he wasn’t shielding himself from her. When unguarded, he usually emitted an aura of calm. Pure neutrality. The same way she felt when she just finished meditating. But his presence was also always intense. Heavy. 

 And now, with his shield up and no way to feel his usual calm demeanor, the only thing she could feel was his intensity. 

 Maybe it was her attraction to him that made him feel so intimidating to her, maybe it was just the way that he was, but she felt herself grow nervous. However, she chose to keep herself open. Allowed him to feel her anxiety, her guilt, her pure sincerity, if he chose to pay attention - and she knew he always did. 

 He breathed in deeply, looking away from her to take a seat across from the younger woman, now eye level with her. She felt a small shift in the air around them, filling her with a gentle wave of emotion. Calm. 

 He’d opened himself up to her, just a little.

 She looked at him again, letting out a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding. 

 “It was an accident.” He stated, simply. A soft, reassuring smile on his lips. “You pushed too hard and when I left your mind, you followed me into mine. I should’ve prepared myself for it but I didn’t.” He moved, straightening his back and relaxing his shoulders, evidently preparing to join her in meditation. 

 “I accept your apology and I’d like to offer you one of my own. For not informing you of the possibility.”

 She smiled, joining him in adjusting her posture as she nodded. 

 “It’s okay.” She confirmed, closing her eyes once again, grateful to feel the weight of anxiety lifted off her chest. The day moved like every other, training as normal, eating together as always.

 But there was something different between them now. A shift in their dynamic. 

 It was subtle at first - she assumed it was simply the fact that they’d moved past a hitch in their platonic relationship. A teaching moment between Master and Padawan, moving past their personal feelings and focussing on the training at hand.

 However, as the days passed, lingering glances had turned into shy eye contact. Her blushing cheeks at his touch were met with knowing smirks. Their dinners, usually littered with small talk and questions about Jedi training, turned into meaningful conversations. Hells, she’d even made him laugh a few times and boy, was she ecstatic to discover that Luke Skywalker, the most serious and quiet man she knows, Jedi Knight, has the sweetest, most boyish giggle she’s ever heard. She revelled in the sight of his toothy smile, cheeks creasing with the size of his grin. 

 Her heart pounded even just thinking about it as he led her to a new location of the Temple, one that had still been getting built by worker droids when she first arrived to Ossus for training. The room was large and open, with a lifted podium in the centre, where he led her before handing her a wooden pole, the handle surrounded in metal and wrapped in leather, to replicate the weight of a mechanical hilt.

 Her eyes widened.

 ”Saber training?” She said, awestruck as she gazed up at Luke, who looked down at her with the smallest of smirks tugging at the corner of his mouth. He nodded, moving to stand in front of the shorter woman, hands behind his back as he watched her. 

 “I’d like you to position yourself in a fighting stance.” He said simply, face blank once again, calm yet intimidating aura ever present. 

 Despite their recent change of dynamic in their free time, he rarely shifted his focus off of training her properly. 

 There had been a few times where she tried to keep their light conversation from dinner or breakfast going into their lessons, but had each time been met with a telling look or sometimes even a gentle scolding, her name rolling off of his tongue with a disciplinary tone. A reminder to stay focussed. 

 She gripped the hilt of the wooden saber in her hands and shuffled her feet shoulder-width apart, bending her knees slightly, trying to mimic the stance she’d seen in the Holothrillers that Peli and her would watch on Mos Eisley. 

 Once in position, she looked at Luke, waiting for him to provide further guidance. 

 He observed her, gaze slowly trailing down her body as he took in her position, tilting his head as he did so, seeming ponderous. 

 Her stomach fluttered at the sight of his eyes taking her in with his very serious expression, his jaw tightening as he observed her.

 He started to move, his hands staying behind his back as he slowly circled her, his footsteps echoing in the open space, their sound becoming her only knowledge of his location after he exited her vision, reminding her once again of her weakness in the Force when preoccupied and not meditating. Their recent Force training sessions had been consistent with that Maker-forsaken Training Remote. The burns on her legs and feet from its tiny beams are proof enough of her ineptitude with the Force when distracted. They would soon have to make a trip into the city for more Bacta at the rate she’s going through it.

 His sudden appearance directly behind her startles her, jumping when he begins speaking. She swears she can hear the hit of a smirk in his voice, amused by her skittishness. 

“Your instinctual position proves almost perfect.” He begins, “However, we need to make a few small adjustments.” 

 He takes a step closer and the only thing she can sense without the aid of the Force is the sound of his clothes rustling as he moves and the sound of his leather glove stretching with his fingers. Her grip on the hilt of the wooden saber tightens as she anticipates his touch, her senses heightened as her heart began to pound. 

 Her breath hitches when she feels his gloved hand touch the back of her thigh, pushing as he does so. 

 “Bend your knees a little more.” 

 She does as he says, lowering herself with his hand guiding her, revelling in the feeling of his fingers. The smooth leather of his glove makes her yearn for the touch of his skin against hers. She can’t help but think of him gripping her thigh, moving her however he wants. 

 His hand pulling away pulls her out of her thoughts, the ghost of his touch tingling her skin, making her legs feel weak. 

 He then gently places both hands on her shoulders, just soft enough to stabilise her as he brings himself closer, warm chest nearly touching her back as he uses the outside of his boot to push on the inside of her right foot, spreading her legs the tiniest bit more.

 The unexpected action makes face flush and her toes curl in her shoes as she has to consciously focus on keeping her breathing steady. Mind wandering, immediately. 

 ”Keeping your feet further apart helps with agility when in combat.” He stated, factually, his breath on her ear and she has to try not to shiver at the feeling. 

 He removed his hands slowly, trailing down her upper arms before retreating fully as he moved to stand in front of her again, keeping his distance close.

 The young woman took deep breaths, closing her eyes to take a moment to relax before opening them again, her dilated pupils taking him in. His face stayed neutral, exuding relaxation as he watched her and she hoped she didn’t look as desperate as she felt, practically panting with want, too aware of every part of her body that yearned for his touch, from her hands, to her feet, to the apex of her thighs. 

 She grew tired as she kept her shield up, strengthening it as her thoughts wandered, trying to focus on anything other than his eyes or his hands or his stupid unreadable face. 

 She took another deep breath.

 If he noticed, he didn’t say anything. His demeanor remained unchanged as he looked down to her hands gripping the hilt before he raised his own, gloved fingers gripping the saber while the other hand reaches for hers. 

 She let out a shaky breath when his skin touched hers as he repositioned her hands, swapping them around whilst he held her saber for her. 

 She hoped she wasn’t reading too far into it when his hand lingered on her fingers for a moment longer than it should’ve. 

 “Always lead with your dominant hand.” 

 He moved away again, walking with his hands behind his back as he observed just as he did before, eyes roaming her body for signs of imperfection. His head moved as he looked her over, circling her once again, his gaze burning into her skin.

 His demeanor made her feel like a rabbit in a lion's den. And her face flushed at the knowledge that she liked it. 

 The rest of saber training had felt torturous. Not only because of his lingering touches, but because watching her Master wield a saber with ease, his tunic tightening around his muscles, his breathing growing ragged with exertion was like collapsing dehydrated in the middle of the desert and seeing an ice cold water bottle sitting just outside of reach. Like being in a prison cell, the key to the door hanging just outside the bars. 

 Like being infatuated with a man you can’t have. 

 She touched herself in the refresher to the thought of him, after training. 

 After dinner, spending some time in the Temple library, opting for a romance book after the excitement of the day, and doing her final meditation for the night, she retired to bed where she tossed and turned more than she usually would. 

 The events of her day played over in her mind, the ghost of her Masters touch still present on her skin. 

 She came to wonder if her frustration with her inability to be with the man she so desperately and selfishly pined for, indicated a dark desire. A path to the Dark Side. If, deep down, she really was filled with selfishness and hate. 

 She’d never identified with the Dark Side, often finding the lust for power obnoxious and all-too similar to Earth's facism, a political standpoint she’s always detested. But the Dark and the Light side of the Force were not a simple matter of opinion or politics. 

 No, it was almost as though it was destined. Something that the Force predetermined to keep balance within it. So, although she felt no pull to the Dark Side, was her selfish desire for Luke Skywalker a pathway to it? Would this infatuation with her Master create a pull that has already been predetermined?

 The thought had her restless and after chasing sleep for an hour and it eluding her, she decided to just continue reading the new book she had started this evening in hopes of putting her racing thoughts behind her.

 Flipping the blankets off of her body and shuffling to the edge of the bed, she stood to walk to the other side of her quarters, where the book sat on the table next to a small carpet she used for her evening meditations. Luke had placed it in here, insisting she have somewhere other than just their tree to sit and meditate.

 She gripped the book whilst looking down at the cover, an image of a Human man holding a Twi’lek woman by the waist, staring lovingly into her eyes. She sighed down at it almost longingly before moving to make her way back to her bed. 

 Her feet stopped dead on the stone floor when a small, nagging feeling rose up on the back of her neck. It almost felt like a small tingle, like a bug was crawling on her skin or her hair was grazing her neck. She thought she may have imagined it at first, but it quickly grew in intensity. A shiver ran down her spin and her blood ran cold. 

 She stood in the centre of her room, waiting. Feeling. Goosebumps rose on her skin as the shiver expanded across her whole body, her feet had pins and needles. 

 Something was wrong.

 Her eyebrows furrowed, her toes flexed against the stone tiles as an image of a black mask appeared in her mind. A flash of blinding red light.

 A deep feeling of dread filled her, her chest tightening as the feeling overwhelmed her and she brought a hand up to place her palm against it, feeling her heartbeat rattling in her ribcage. 

 It was then that she heard a scream. Not in her head, but within the Temple. 

 Luke. 

 The book fell to her feet and she took off, ripping  her door open and sprinting down the hall, through the common area where they ate together and down the opposite hallway, toward her Masters quarters.

 She had never been here before, had never even thought about coming here, out of respect for the unspoken expectation between Master and Padawan. But as she grew closer, the hairs on her arms stood as the overwhelming sense of danger flooded her senses. 

 She didn’t hesitate, didn’t even think it over for a second before pulling the door open and running so fast into Luke's room that she nearly tumbled over the area rug on the floor. 

 Luke laid seemingly unharmed in his bed, writhing and whimpering. But as she watched him, flashes of red light flooded her head and she blinked as they appeared. 

 “Luke!” She yelled, running to his side, looking down at him under the covers, the word ‘no’ tumbling out of his lips between whimpers and groans. 

 She was confused, brows furrowing as panic filled her. Was he just dreaming? And if he was just dreaming, why was she sensing it? Experiencing it through the Force?

His shoulders convulsed as he let out wailing sobs. His face scrunched as he began crying and her heart clenched at the sight. His beautiful face twisted into agony, as though he was in mourning. 

 She placed a hesitant hand on his shoulder, his bare skin wet with sweat, jostling him in an attempt to wake him. 

 “Luke, please!” She cried, anxious to get him out of whatever dream he was having. He continued to writhe, his hair stuck to his damp forehead. 

 She placed a knee on his bed, leaning over him to capture both of his shoulders to shake him.

 ”Luke! Wake up!” She shouted louder this time, being cautious as to not injure him with her grip. 

 He gasped as his eyes shot open, the word ‘no’ still escaping his lips as his body jolted out of sleep, startling even more at the sight of her.

 She let out a small yelp as he shot up, her hands leaving his shoulders and up to her chest, frightened by his sudden movement. 

 ”it’s okay!” She shouted over his whimpers, “Luke, it’s okay! It’s me!” She pleaded.

 Confusion clouded his eyes as his body heaved with ragged breath, bracing one hand on his bed and bringing the other to his chest, flattening it across his sternum as he caught his breath, still whimpering and mumbling, as if still coming out of the throws of his dream.

 “Luke, are you ok?” She brought a hand down to his forearm, grazing his skin gently so as to not frighten him again. 

 He flinched a little at the contact but settled when his eyes caught hers, clearer than they were before and she breathed out a relieved breath, grateful to see the recognition in his face. 

 He swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to gain control of his breathing. His face was still twisted in confusion and panic. 

 “I-I can’t-“ He tried to speak but struggled, closing his eyes. 

 She looked around his room quickly, realising she hadn’t taken note of anything when she’d entered and hoped to find something that could help him now. 

 She nearly gasped in happiness when her eyes settled on the glass jug of water on the table across from the bed. 

 “Hang on.” She stated, giving his arm a reassuring tap before hurrying over to the table, picking up one of the upturned glasses on the tray and pouring some fresh water into it. 

 She brought it back over to his bed, grabbing at his hand to guide it to the glass, where he looked up at her with grateful eyes and a furrowed brow. He nodded in thanks as he gripped it with shaky hands, bringing it to his lips to take a sip. 

 She then hurried to the other side of the room, grateful to see that their quarters were practically identical. She rushed over his own meditation mat and pulled aside the thin curtains so she could open a set of balcony doors, allowing the cool night breeze to enter the room, something she often did whilst she was meditating in her own room. 

 She turned to watch him sigh in relief when the breeze hit his wet skin, the messy bed hair on his head moved with it. He removed the glass from his lips, bringing it down to rest in his lap.

 It was only now, after her goosebumps died down and the shiver of imminent danger had left her, that she took notice of his appearance. 

 He was shirtless, the sheet that had initially covered him when she entered pooled on his lap, exposing his chest. He was unexpectedly lean, although she supposed you had to be to be a Jedi; even she had noticed a difference in her body after she began her training almost a standard year ago. The moonlight flooding in from the open door glistened against his moist skin, revealing the contours of his biceps, and as she looked at his arms from her new position in his quarters, she noticed that he wasn’t wearing his signature leather glove and she could now see his broken skin, where something metallic shined in the moonlight from underneath. 

 As she walked closer, she realised that underneath the skin of his right hand was metal and wiring, the skin around it seeming damaged. 

 She had heard the stories, heard that he’d had his hand cut off by his own father, but had never known the legitimacy of them. All the books, Holothrillers and verbal retellings had said different things. Some that he was the hero, others that he was the villain. But they all showed the same depiction of his father. A man in a black mask with a red saber. 

 She sat cautiously on the other side of the bed, watching as he finally caught his breath. 

 “Are you ok?” She asked, quietly. Despite being the only two in the temple that aren’t droids, the darkness of the night made her feel like she had to whisper, like they were sharing a secret they didn’t want others to hear. 

 Luke moved to place the glass of water on his nightstand and she mentally scolded herself as she watched his muscles contort with the movement. 

 “Yes, thank you,’ he began, still capturing his breath as he moved back to look at her. “I apologise if I woke you.” He clasped his hands together in his lap, toying with his fingers as he stared at her with a sheepish expression. 

 He was embarrassed. 

 She shook her head, adjusting her position on his bed so that she was sitting on her knees, facing him entirely. 

 “You didn’t.” She tucked a piece of loose hair behind her ear, watching as Luke took in her nightgown and untied tresses. She realised that he had also never seen her like this and probably found it equally as jarring as she did. 

 “I couldn’t sleep. I was about to start reading my new book to see if it would help when I became overwhelmed with a terrible feeling.” She explained, looking down at her lap. ”I had no clue what it was until I heard you yell.”

 Luke suddenly moved, and she looked up at him, seeing a look of surprise on his face as he adjusted his position to face her. 

 “You could sense it?” He asked, voice barely above a whisper.

 She nodded. “Yes. I’ve never felt anything like it. It was like the room just stilled and all I could feel was this overwhelming sense of danger or fear - but it wasn’t my own.” She elaborated, realising that Luke was clearly interested in her experience. She watched as he nodded, silently urging her to continue. 

 “And then I could see… a figure. A man in a mask. But I wasn't really seeing it. It was like a picture had appeared in my head.” 

 Luke nodded, a soft smile adorning his face. 

 “Your connection with the force has grown.” He stated simply, gulping down the last of his ragged breath. He seemed almost proud but there was a distant look in his eye, as if he was still thinking of his dream. 

 She shuffled closer, moving toward him again, capturing her nightgown in her hand to gather it at her knees so she could move without the fabric getting in the way. 

 She lowered her voice again as she asked; 

 ”Were you dreaming of Vader?” 

 His eyes met hers for a brief moment before moving again to stare down at the bedsheets, his face scrunched as he thought, his hair still stuck to his forehead. 

 “N-no. It was someone else.” She could tell he was thinking back, trying to connect any dots he could find. “I didn’t recognise him. But you feeling it through the Force tells me that this was not just a dream.” He lets out a sigh, bringing his robotic hand up to his hair, smoothing it out.The mechanical pieces clicked quietly as they moved with him. 

 “A premonition?” She asked, awestricken at the thought. Luke gravely nodded in return, his hand dropping to his lap once again. 

 ”Do you ever know when it will come true?” She questions further, knees knocking with his as she moves even closer to him without thinking, interest piqued. She’d read of Jedi getting prophetic visions and had found great interest in it, having never experienced one before - until now, she supposed. 

 He looked down at their legs, seeming to think for a moment before responding. 

 “No, it’s hard to know when it will happen. It may never happen.” He began, his eyes on her exposed knees and the fabric of her nightgown pooled between her thighs. 

 She came to a slow realisation of the situation they were currently in. 

 She was in his quarters. In the middle of the night. In his bed. In nothing but a nightgown.

 She suddenly hoped the white light of the moon didn’t reveal the blush on her cheeks as he continued speaking, the air around them seeming to have shifted as he, too, realised their predicament. 

 “The future is always changing. The actions of the present are constantly adjusting the future.” He gazed down at her, his voice thinning as he spoke. 

 There was something different about him as he sat across from her. Maybe it was the fact that he’d just woken from a nightmare or, as she’d just discovered, a premonition, but he was more expressive. His usually neutral face was still relaxed, a great juxtaposition to how he looked earlier, but his eyes communicated more than she was used to. He continued looking at the way her nightgown flowed around her, eyes glittering in the moonlight. His eyes would meet hers every so often, as if to maintain the guise of innocence as his jaw clenched, the action visible in the contrast of the soft light. 

 The room seemed heavier, and she wasn't sure if it was the Force, or her imagination, but there was almost a kind of electricity filling the space between them. The new aura around them made her stomach flutter, reminding her of their time saber training earlier today, a memory that has her mental scolding herself once again, sure that she was to make a fool of herself if she thinks too hard about the way he touched her then and the way his body moved under his tunic. What she would give to see him do it shirtless like this. 

 She swallowed, fingers clenching her nightgown nervously, an action she see’s Lukes eyes catch instantly. Her inner thighs tingle and her heart pounds as she prepares herself to speak.

 “Are the dreams of a Jedi often premonitions?” She asked, voice weak as she moved her eyes down to his body, his biceps twitching with every small movement as he toyed with his fingers in his lap. She watched as his chest rose and fell with each breath, his Adam’s Apple bobbing as he gulped.

 His hair was still tousled, shoulders moving in breaths that still aren’t quite even, his eyes shining with an emotion she couldn’t quite place.

 “Not always... But they can be.” His response was delayed, distracted almost. His eyes were lidded as they darted across her face. At her eyes, to her lips and across her cheeks that looked so smooth and so pleasant in the night. 

 A cold breeze blew through the open balcony window, making the curtains behind her dance and her nightgown move against her body, brushing against her nipples. Her toes curled as they hardened in response, a quiet breath escaped her, nearly inaudible, but he heard it. Of course he heard it.

 Luke watched as her hair flowed around her shoulders, not used to seeing it out of its usual braid or bun. She could see his eyes trail down the strands of hair within her padawan braid, down to her collarbones, and he licked his lips when his gaze met her chest, breath seeming to falter at the sight. 

 His breathing grew heavy again as she leaned forward without thinking, her body moving practically without her permission. She wasn’t even thinking about what she was doing. Her stomach bubbled with longing and all she knew was that she needed to be close to him. 

 “How do you tell the difference between a dream and something prophetic?” She whispered, pausing so she could look into his eyes, looking at whatever emotion lay beneath them, desperate to know if this was ok, If she was reading this correctly.

 There was something there, something akin to desire. But there was hesitation as well. She could see it in the crease between his eyebrows. It made her hesitate, not wanting to push this further if he didn’t want it.

 “You just feel it.” He responded shakily, swallowing once more as his eyes darted to her lips, his tongue wetting his own without a second thought. When his eyes met hers again, there was an excited cloudiness there.

 She took it as her sign. Her permission to lean in closer, watching him as she did so for any sign of discomfort, but he looked at her lips again and she could’ve sworn he leaned in too. 

 She could feel his hot breath on her face as she neared and she stopped just before their lips met, waiting for him to make the final move. 

 He hesitated. 

“We shouldn’t do this.” He stated simply but didn’t make a move to pull away, his voice a rough whisper. 

 Her nose bumped his as she moved the smallest bit to look him in the eye, lips moving further away just by a centimetre 

 “Do you want me to stop?” She asked. Her question was genuine, but it came out breathlessly. Dreamily. Full of want. 

 He took a moment to respond, gulping nervously, his breathing shaky.

 She was about to pull away, about to apologise for her forwardness when he finally shook his head. 

 “No.” 

 He still didn’t move toward her, like he was nervous to make the first move but when she finally brought her lips to his in a gentle kiss, he responded immediately. His lips closed around hers without question, soft and cautious. 

 Despite her initiating it, he took the lead, repositioning his head to capture her lips with more ease, adjusting his body as he leant in.  

 She lifted a hand to his cheek, sighing against his lips when he leant into her touch, moving his real hand to the side of her neck, cupping the back of her head to pull her in whilst his mechanical hand rested on her thigh in front of him. 

 As the kiss deepened, she lifted herself on to her knees, cautiously crawling into his lap, making sure he had plenty of time to stop her if he felt like he needed to, but he welcomed her gladly. His hand on her thigh slid up to her hip to pull her in, the fabric of her nightgown riding up unintentionally as he did. 

 She settled into his lap, body on fire as her thighs rested around his waist, enjoying the way her bare skin felt against his. 

 The kiss was heated, breathless and desperate, but remained innocent enough until his grip on her tightened and he pulled her closer, chests completely flush. 

 A whine left her throat at the feeling of her bare sex brushing against the unmistakable hardness under his sleep pants. 

 He sighed in response, moving his hand from her neck to her bare thigh, pulling her in closer again, encouraging the movement of her hips. 

 She ground down on him properly for the first time and he whined into her mouth. The sound was deep and desperate and she could feel it vibrate in his chest against her breasts as it came out. 

 She moved a hand to the back of his head, lacing her fingers through his hair as she felt Luke’s tongue ask for entrance against her lips. 

 She moved her hips again when their tongues met, encouraging him to continue. Giving him all the clues he needed to keep going, the reassurance that she was enjoying herself and that she was desperate for more of him. 

 His hand on her thigh trailed up under the fabric of her nightgown and around the curve of her ass, gripping it as he pulled her against him, jutting his hips up to meet the movement. She gripped his shoulder as her folds rubbed against his length, finding herself frustrated at the barrier of his sleep pants between them. 

 He placed his other hand under her nightgown, the fabric gathering on his forearms as he explored her bare skin, bringing his hands up to capture her breast in his palm, giving it an experimental squeeze. 

 She pushed her chest further into his hand whilst she rocked against him, breathing laboured. She sighed when he grunted in appreciation at the weight of her in his palm. 

 His thumb brushed against her nipple lightly and she pulled away from the kiss to let out a shaky moan, taking a moment to look at him. 

 “We really shouldn’t do this.” She stated, looking him in the eyes. But her actions betrayed her words, cupping his cheek and rolling her hips again, eyes closing at the feeling. She knew how he felt about this. About the Jedi Code. And wanted to give him any out he may have needed before they went too far. 

 But he groaned at her excitement, at the feeling of her wetness seeping through his cotton pants, eyes dropping to her neck and collarbone, where he brought a hand up to move her padawan braid over her shoulder with the rest of her hair. 

 “Do you want me to stop?” He mimicked her words from just moments before, his voice raspy and breathless as he brought his lips to her throat, shivering when he heard her gasp and grip the back of his hair at the feeling. 

 “Please don’t.” She moaned, revelling in the feeling of his lips dancing across her skin. 

 He let out a deep chuckle, one she’d never heard from him before, his breath cooling the saliva on her neck, making her whine as he brought his hands down to the hem of her gown and began pulling it up. A wave of excitement ran through her as he removed his lips to lift the fabric over her head, leaving her bare in front of him. 

 His eyes roamed her body, wetting his lips as he looked down at her breasts, discarding the garment wherever it fell and bringing both of his hands to her chest, thumbs grazing over her nipples once more, a restrained breath leaving his mouth as he watched as her face contorted in pleasure. 

 She reached a hand between them, tugging at the band of his cotton sleepwear to communicate what she wanted. 

 She lifted herself up on her knees, giving him space to pull the garment down. 

 Her thighs quivered with excitement as his length was freed from his pants, pink tip wet with precum and standing flush and straight. 

 She helped him rid his legs of the fabric so they were both bare for one another, hearts hammering and chests heaving with strained breath as they gazed at each other, the weight of what they were about to do sinking in. They didn’t move for a moment, looking to the other for their final looks of approval, to make sure this was a decision they wanted to make together. 

 He looked up at her, eyes softening as he brought his hand to her cheek, pulling her in. She captured his lips in a kiss once more, revelling in the spark on her skin where their bare chests connected. 

 She moved over his lap, rolling her hips once again and they both sighed as her wet folds finally ground against the bare underside of his length. His hand grasped her hip, making her skin feel like it was on fire as his fingers tightened on her body, groaning at the sensation of her slick coating his shaft. 

 She did it once, twice more before lifting herself on her knees whilst he moved his real hand between their bodies, positioning himself at her entrance.

 She lowered herself onto him, watching his face as his tip breached her entrance.

She gasped at the feeling and electricity shot through her. His jaw hung open, eyebrows furrowed and shoulders moved with the inflation of his lungs, eyelids fluttering. He let out a strained moan, his grip bruisingly tight.  

 They made eye contact as she settled further, taking her time lowering herself on to his length, savouring the feeling of her stretching around his girth.

 She moaned when she finally bottomed out, gripping his shoulders to ground her as her thighs quivered. His eyes were blown, pupils dilated as he watched her face, closing them only to place a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth, his arms wrapping around her waist as she began to move. 

 It was agonisingly slow and drove him crazy, the way she moved on him, lifting her hips and feeling him dragging out of her slowly, only to sink back down again at the same pace. Slowly and gently, savouring the feeling of him inside her, like she was committing him to memory. 

 His grip tightened as he grabbed a hold of her thighs, helping her lift her body, guiding her. 

 The way he grabbed her made her think he was going to take charge, change the pace and slam her body back down to his. But instead, he matched her pace, moaning into her mouth and jutting his hips in time with hers, needy and desperate but still tender and gentle. 

 His head dropped to her shoulder as their bodies moved together, leaving sloppy, delirious kisses on her neck every so often while she gripped his hair, moaning into his neck as his fingers gripped her body. The sound of their panting filled the room as their pace quickened, Luke’s breathing growing laboured. 

 She could tell he was fast approaching his release. Could sense it from the way he grasped at her thighs but also within the air around her, as if the tension in his body filled the room. The coil in his stomach, growing.

 His shield must’ve been down.

 He moved back, eyes locking with hers as he positioned his mechanical hand between their bodies, the faux skin feeling close to lifelike, but lacking the warmth of his body. She could see the determination in his face, like he knew he was going to finish too fast and wanted to make sure she finished first. 

 He laid a hand flat on her stomach, reaching his thumb down until he found her clit. 

 “M-maker.” She gasped, eyes nearly rolling back at the spark his circling thumb sent through her body. If her eyes had been open, she would’ve seen the satisfied smirk he wore when her body stuttered against him, savouring the feeling of her clenching around him. The sounds she was making flowed through him, bringing him closer to his end. 

 The presence of his pleasure flooded her through the Force, swirling in the air as his release grew near, aiding her journey as well. 

  As if he could feel it, maybe he actually could, he put more pressure on her clit and her body shivered as she got closer to her climax, struggling to move against him. 

 He thrust his hips up, using his other hand, still clasped on her waist, to guide her down on to him, taking charge as her body struggled with the extra stimulation. She moaned as his hips bucked into her, his cock filling her beautifully as she throbbed around it, orgasm swirling in her abdomen. 

 He guided her through it, swirling his thumb around her clit until her thighs convulsed around his waist. Her face contorted in ecstasy, moaning as she reached her climax and Luke finally allowed himself to finish, burying his face in her neck as he whimpered with his release, hips sputtering and biceps flexing with the grip he had on her body, cock twitching inside her. 

 Her walls throbbed around him as she came down from her high, falling limp against his body, face resting on his shoulder as she caught her breath, enjoying the remaining waves of pleasure as their bodies relaxed into one another. 

 His hand left her pelvis, moving to engulf her in an exhausted embrace, one hand flat against her back and the other in her hair, thumb rubbing against her jaw. 

 They stayed there for a while, enjoying being in each other's arms until she eventually pulled back, only to capture his lips in a gentle kiss. He reciprocated sweetly, stroking her hair softly and massaging his fingers into her scalp. 

 They pulled apart to rest their foreheads together, eyes closed and simply appreciating each other's presence, their heavy breathing slowing as they relaxed. 

 After a while of comfortable silence, a thought struck her and the young woman smiled, letting out a soft chuckle, hand moving to cover her mouth as she opened her eyes. 

 Luke pulled back to look her in the eye, a smile toying at his lips. 

 “What?” He asked with a soft voice. 

She giggled, covering her face shyly as she shook her head, hair flowing around her shoulders. “It’s nothing-“ she chuckled again, eyes closing as her shoulders shook with soft laughter. 

 A toothy grin broke out on his face, his cheeks creasing as he let out his own laugh. 

 “Well now you have to tell me.” He teased, lifting a hand up to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear affectionately. 

 She smiled at him, hesitating for a moment but so caught up in the intimacy of the moment and the laughter between them that she said it anyway. 

 “I was just thinking…” she trailed off, looking away as she held back another laugh.  “That for a man sworn to celibacy, you sure seem to know what you’re doing.” She hid her face as it came out of her mouth, cheeks flushing as she giggled. 

 Luke’s eyes widened, a surprised look on his face at the forwardness of her statement and for a moment she was nervous she’d said too much. But she relaxed when he scrunched his nose as a shy smile broke out on his face.

 “Oh my-“ he cut himself off with a laugh, bringing a hand up to his face in embarrassment. 

 She laughed even harder at his reaction, thankful that he’d found himself amused by her joke, bringing a hand to rest on his bicep.

 He removed his hand from his face and looked up at her again, a wide smile still playing on his lips. 

 “I haven’t always been a Jedi, you know.” He offered as an explanation, dropping his hand to play with the ends of her hair. 

 She smirked, deciding to keep going with her teasing. 

 “So Tattooines resident farm boy, Luke Skywalker, got around that much, huh?” She poked his cheek playfully when she said it, smiling when he rolled his eyes in jest. 

 “Not that much.” He shook his head, swatting her hand away gently. “But I did have a friend, Biggs, who loved to talk about all of his experiences.” He exaggerated his words when describing his friend, a boyish giggle left his throat at the memory, his face plastered with his grin. 

 She smiled affectionately at him as she toyed with his robotic hand that he hadn’t removed from hers, feeling the replicated skin and the mechanics underneath it, watching as the gears moved with every twitch of his fingers. 

 When his laugh died down, he continued; 

 “And you know that we aren’t sworn to celibacy.” He teased, still toying with the ends of her hair with his other hand, trailing his fingertips across the bead that secured the braid behind her ear, the hair within it longer than the rest on her head. 

 “We can technically make love, we just can’t be in love.” He finished, a smirk still playing on his lips but she could hear the way he trailed off, watched as the smile slowly left his face and a sudden sadness filled his eyes. 

 She smiled softly at him, trying to keep the conversation light. 

 “Sounds like a loophole to me.” She joked, lacing her fingers with his. He looked down at them, rubbing a mechanical thumb across the back of her hand, the whirring of the gears within it breaking the silence in the room. 

 She doesn’t know why she says it, why it was on her mind or why she thought it was a good idea to verbalise it, but without thinking, she whispers;

 ”Those things kind of go hand in hand for me.”

 The weight of her words filled the room and she felt mortified the second she said it, in awe of the implied admission in the sentence, but unable to deny it. 

 His eyes met hers, realisation settling in them as his face fully dropped to one of sadness. Something akin to regret washed over him as he took a moment to respond, mouth opening and closing as he thought of what to say, shaking his head. 

 The way he said her name reminded her of the times he’d scold her for being distracted, but instead of authority behind his tone, it was disappointment. Heartbreak. 

 He brought his other hand on top of their clasped fingers. 

 “This was-“ he stops short, struggling to find the words.

 He shook his head, running a thumb over her hand as he tries to collect his thoughts.

 “We shouldn’t have…” He can’t bring himself to say any more, but he doesn’t have to. 

 “I know.” She states, simply. A sad smile ghosts her face as she looks at him, bringing her free hand up to his, cupping his cheek. “I know, Luke.” 

 Despite his words. Despite what he knows he should be doing; He leans into her touch. Furrowing his eyebrows, gloomy eyes looking into hers as he watched them begin to tear up. His chest tightened at the sight of her eyes welling, gripping her hand tighter.

 “C-can we just…” She began, swallowing the lump in her throat in an attempt not to cry. “Can we pretend that it’s ok? Just for tonight?” She asked, pushing his hair back to get a better view of his face, committing the view of his desperate eyes in the white light of the moon to memory. 

 His stare darted between her eyes, seeming torn. He was silent for a while, jaw clenching as his mind raced. But eventually, he sighed, rubbing his real hand over her forearm, almost reassuringly as he nodded, a sad smile on his face. 

 She brushed her thumb over his cheekbone, leaning down to peck his lips once more and he held her there, savouring the feeling of her lips on his.

 She adjusted herself in his lap, his cock still half-hard inside her and he let out a small, overstimulated grunt, pulling away for a second to look her in the eyes, bringing his hand up to wipe the tear that began to roll down her cheek. 

 “We’ll figure it out tomorrow.” He promised, cradling her face. 

 She nodded with a sad smile, leaning in to kiss him again, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

 The night passed slowly as swapped stories, sharing laughs together in each other's embrace, tangled in the bed sheets as the sound of the curtains shuffling in the breeze filled the room amongst their whispers. 

 He told her of his time growing up on Tatooine. Of his best friend, Biggs and his aunt Beru and Uncle Owen and all the trouble he’d get in for getting up to mischief in town. He explained how he and Biggs used to race landspeeders and fly small ships whenever they could, often crashing or ending up somewhere they shouldn’t have just because they egged each other on and brought out the worst in each other in the most beautifully chaotic way. He said that doing these silly things had made him realise that he wanted to be a pilot, and had even applied for the Imperial academy, simply because he knew they would train him to fly better than he knew he already could.

 He made her giggle at the mention of his childhood memories of Peli, who he hadn’t really known as anything but the mean lady at the Spaceport that wouldn’t let the aspiring-pilots in to look at any of the ships in her hangars, even when the young boys begged. 

 She shook her head in amusement, unsurprised by his observation of the older woman. A smile graced her lips as she did, only dimming slightly after an oddly homesick feeling struck her, realising that she hadn’t seen her old boss, someone that she considered a friend, in quite a long time. 

 Luke, whether through the Force or solely from her facial expression, had noticed the shift in her, asking her sweetly to tell him of her past. 

 He’d known the surface-level things. That she was from a primitive planet in a far away galaxy and became stranded on Tatooine, ignorant to many of the workings of her new home. But he listened intently as she explained how Peli, despite being an abrasive and rude woman on the surface, had selflessly taken the young woman in after seeing the lost look on her face when the ship that she’d landed in not an hour earlier, had taken off without her on it. 

 She explained how she felt quite neanderthalic, having little to no knowledge of most of the technology she came across or how the currency system worked. 

 Peli had helped her through it all in the months they lived together by explaining the politics to her, reciting the history she knew of and even teaching her to read and write in other common languages in the afternoons, after dinner and before she retired to her uncomfortable cot in the back of the Tool Shop, where she slept amongst the droids.

 Their chatting lasted hours, even after their eyes began to get heavy and they started yawning, unwilling to let the night end. There was a part of her that wondered if he, too, was trying to enjoy it while it lasted, for they knew they had to face reality tomorrow.

 She tried not to think of the sunrise and the knowledge of the inevitable serious discussion they would have to have when the time came. 

 Finding comfort, for now, in the safety of the moonlight as they revelled in feeling as though they had no responsibility, wrapped up in the discussion of their interests and passions outside of training. 

 They stopped only to share sweet kisses or even to once again become a mess of tangled limbs as he eased them both slowly back into the throws of… what did he call it?

 Making love. 

 Hands gripping at each other's bodies, moans swallowed by each other's mouths, too absorbed with each other to even think about the world around them as she grabbed at his body for purchase, tugging at his hair without thinking. 

 She nearly felt bad for it, even through her sex-drunk daze, having not intended to grab him so harshly, but she was pleasantly surprised when she felt his hips sputter, moaning into her neck as he came again. 

 She found herself pocketing that knowledge in the back of her mind for later.

 He collapsed on top of her, being cautious to rest his weight on his arms, as to not crush her under him.

 She kept her hand in his hair, loosening her grip to gently massage his scalp lazily, arms as weak as the rest of her body as her chest heaved and her legs twitched. 

 His eyes closed at the feeling of her hand in his hair, revelling in the comfort he found within it and finding himself unwilling for it to stop. 

 He withdrew from her, both of them wincing with sensitivity and letting out small grunts at the feeling. But instead of rolling to her side or moving off of her, he chose to move down to rest his head against her chest, spreading his body across the mattress and bringing his hands to her sides, holding her dearly as he listened to her erratic heartbeat.

 She moved her other arm across his back, embracing him as she tried to calm her breathing and they stayed like that for a while, basking in their post-sex haze as her fingers trailed over his back and through his hair. 

 She found herself not thinking of the Jedi Code, or of their agreement to speak of the consequences of their own actions tomorrow, but of her happiness. Of the way her stomach fluttered when his fingers twitched against her side or the way her whole body felt tingly with excitement. 

 He sighed contentedly when she placed a gentle kiss to his head, moving to look up at her and she swears she feels his heart hammer against her stomach when they make eye contact. 

 She brushes his hair off of his forehead, smiling down at him and shaking her head. 

 “Your hair is a mess.” She teased, bringing both hands up to rake her fingers through his hair, smoothing it down from its previous nest-looking mop. 

 He laughed a genuine, hearty laugh as he brought his hand up to his head, helping her fix his hair as a small blush dusted his face. 

 “You really know how to keep the mood going, don’t you?” He jested, smirking down at her teasingly. 

 Her smile grew, laughing lightly as she came to the conclusion that she really liked this side of Luke Skywalker. 

 Relaxed, smiley and even a little goofy. Willing to joke around with her and reciprocating her light-hearted teasing. 

 His usual seriousness was endearing, one of the things that she’d actually always found attractive about him. But now, watching his eyes crinkle and his smile grow as he shook his head down at her, a gentle chuckle rumbling in his chest; she decided that, yes. She could get used to this. 

 Their bodies were sweaty and sticking together, hair tousled and messy as they lay gazing at each other with stupid, love-sick grins. It was then that a new thought struck her. 

 She moved her head, twisting her face into a look of pondering, as if in thought. To sell her performance even more, she brought a finger up to tap on her chin as she hummed, feigning indecision. 

 After a moment, she widened her eyes, as if to say ‘ah, i know!’

 “I think I know how to keep the mood going.” She teased, excited to keep their silly conversations going, desperate to see more of his goofy grin that she found herself enamoured by.  

 He played along, tilting his head in mock interest as he spoke.

 “Oh yeah?” He offered, smirking at the little joke she was playing. 

 She nodded, a mischief-ridden smile stretching across her face as she looked down at him, loving the way his eyes sparkled with excitement. She raised her eyebrows suggestively as she spoke; 

 “Wanna join me in the refresher?”

[softlymellow]

The Order Forgot Me First - Chapter 6

☆⁠ PAIRING : Anakin Skywalker x Reader

☆⁠ word count: 3.3k

☆⁠ story themes: lovers to enemies to eventually lovers

☆⁠ warnings: spoilers to swtcw, angstttt

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

"...he almost remembered what it meant to him. Except he didn't. Instead, it was a taste from a dream he couldn’t quite remember."

A dimly lit mission room deep within the Jedi Temple, Anakin Skywalker, Obi-wan Kenobi and Mace Windu gathered around a holographic display. The hum of the holographic offered a soft backdrop to their conversation. 

“Many reports of two skilled bounty under the names ‘Ani’ and ‘Dev’ have been causing disruptions across various sectors.” Mace Windu sternly said whilst Anakin gulped at the use of a name he hasn’t heard in a year. “They have slipped through the Republic forces on multiple occasions.” 

Obi-wan leaned forward, “two bounty hunters causing this much trouble? That's unusual.” 

“Indeed. But their methods have grown more aggressive, even by bounty hunter standards. What is more concerning is Dev. ” Mace Windu tapped the datapad and the holographic image flickered to life, a materialised image of a young boy no older than 15. 

“But that’s only a boy.” Anakin furrowed his eyebrows at Mace Windu, confusion evident on his face. 

“Once a boy, yes. He was once a skilled Jedi, dismissed from the Order for the refusal to adhere to the Code. His descent began when he lost his family and, in a fit of anger, slaughtered civilians. Dark tendencies grew within him.” 

Anakin stiffened immediately and felt a foreboding feeling grow in his stomach. Obi-wan's expression darkened beside him. “A former Jedi turned bounty hunter with such a violent past…It’s troubling.” 

“And what about this..Ani?” Anakin reluctantly asked. 

“She is a much newer addition to the bounty hunting world, but she has proved to be some sort of a prodigy. They were just spotted on Corellia after a bombing to capture Dengar, another well known bounty who worked with Maul and Savage to capture me.” Mace Windu informed them, turning off the holograph. 

Obi-wan frowned, concern etching lines on his face. “We’re going after two bounty hunters? Isn’t that more of a job for local security forces in Corellia?” 

Mace’s gaze shifted from Anakin to Obi-wan, “You both are uniquely skilled in dealing with unconventional situations. We need to contain them before they both spiral out of control.”

Anakin’s jaw tightened, resolve evident in his eyes. “Understood, Master Windu.” 

Obi-wan nodded in agreement, his focus unwavering. “We’ll head to Corellia immediately.”

“Good. May the force guide your actions.” Mace Windu stood tall. 

—

Anakin and Obi-wan sat in the ship en route to Corellia. Neither had spoken a word, just eyes drifting at the stars that illuminated outside. 

Dev.

Ani. 

Not their real names. It wasn't hard to miss the amount of blanks throughout their whole file. Dev's one gave a general consensus though; a disobedient Jedi Padawan, now a runaway. But the latter… No image. No backstory. It was as if she only existed a few months ago. 

Anakin ran a hand through his hair, teeth gnawing the inside of lips. His eyes lazily read the datapad in his lap. A boy stared back at him. Dev. Just 15 years of age in the image, younger than the recent sightings of him. Much younger. His eyes looked hollow, already hard. Like part of him had lost something but was never filled again. 

“Nothing on the girl?” Obi-wan asked beside him, still gazing out the window, but deep in thought. 

Anakin inhaled, his chest rising against his robes and shook his head. “Nothing. Her name is clearly a placeholder, but no record of her.” Anakin turned off the datapad. 

“She is either very smart,” Obi-wan murmured, “or lucky.” 

Anakin leaned in his seat not liking either answer. “What business do they have blowing up a civilian square in the middle of a Corellian protest?” 

Obi-wan stroked his beard, “I’d say they are after another bounty hunter. Denger I assume. He was spotted here the night before.”

“So they try and bring him in, only to level half the plaza in the process?”

“Looks like it.”

Scoffing, Anakin dragged his hand down his face. 

Outside the ship, Corellia was a mess. Alarms sounding through the cities, smoke darkening the skies and protest fires on the rooftops. What was usually a beautiful planet is now filled with protests against the war. 

Once the ship doors opened, Anakin and Obi-wan were hit with heat. Not physical. But tension. Soldiers and civilians buzzing through the streets, it was as if they weren’t at a docking platform. 

“Well, it seems like we have your day cut out for us.” Obi-wan muttered as they made their way down the streets, glancing at the protest signs abandoned on the floor. “No Justice, No peace” was written in Corellian dialect. 

Burn marks scattered around the floor piquing Anakin’s interests. Crouching down, his fingers gently grazed the soot left, leaving his fingers darkened. 

“There was a bombing,” Anakin concluded, spotting several pieces of metal scattered around the floor. 

Obi-wan nodded, "the security reports said they did vanish into the crowds before troops arrived.” His eyes scanned the crowd up ahead. “I’d say our perpetrators are there.” 

That annoyed Anakin more than it should have. 

“Then we’ll start there,” Anakin said. 

— 

Corellia bled with fury and fight. 

Anakin walked ahead, his hood drawn low and his feet dragging along the concrete, stones skidding away. He wasn’t really in the mood. Trying to find 2 cloaked figures in a sea of more cloaked figures wasn’t exactly ideal. After 2 hours of dead ends, he kept replaying the grainy footage hoping it would offer a clue. 

On the other hand, Obi-wan walked behind being Obi-wan. A calm diplomatic Jedi master. He was always asking the right questions to the right vendors, nodding and being friendly. His warm voice made people eager and more keen to offer tips. 

“I spoke to the surveillance clerk”, Obi-wan broke the silence, catching up to Anakin. “He said the crowd tripled after the bombing, half running to shelter and the other protesting even more.” 

Anakin stopped in front of a sign that read “THE REPUBLIC DOESN’T SEE US”, the edges of the banner burnt. 

“Give it a few days and then the Senate will fix this with a speech.”

Obi-wan’s face hardened, “Well it is the Senate’s job to do that.”

“It shouldn’t be.” Anakin muttered, leaving Obi-wan dumbfounded. Did he mean that the planet should fend for itself, fixing its own politics? Or did he mean that the Senate was useless, giving out speeches with no real backlayer. Maybe a bit of both. 

Obi-wan pursed his lips, his eyes scanning the buildings that now had a layer of dust covering it. Walking was starting to get irritating as every few seconds a person would nudge their shoulder with their own, making them lose focus every few seconds. 

That’s when Anakin saw it. 

Small smears of red on the cobblestone wall. Dried and just there. Followed by a few more droplets that painted the floor into an alley. 

Anakin crouched down taking a further look, gaining Obi-wan’s attention. 

“Blood.” Obi-wan hummed, stroking his beard thoughtfully. 

“Might not be theirs.”

“Still, we are Jedi. Whoever blood it belongs to may need help.” Obi-wan advised. 

They followed the trail that led to a rusted backdoor. Anakin didn’t hesitate. Immediately pushing past the door as it creaked loudly. 

It was dim inside. 

And in the corner was an elderly Twi’lek couple. 

Anakin and Obi-wan both flinched, least expecting to break into a home. 

The couple sat on the floor, a blanket engulfing their lower body and a half-crushed medpac that rested near their feet. 

Obi-wan immediately put his hands up in defence, “We’re not here to harm you.”

The couple's eyes traced both Anakin and Obi-wan’s figure, their eyes flickering between the saber’s that rested on their hip and their defensive face.

Noticing that they haven’t said anything, Anakin used the opportunity and stepped forward, the woman clutched her blanket a bit tightly. 

“We’re investigating the bombing that happened here. Do you know anything about that?” 

The male shook his head, his blue tentacle like tendrils moving with him, “N-no.”

Obi-wan moved up with Anakin, realising that they can speak Basic. “A young man with blonde hair and a cloaked girl. Does it sound any familiar?”

The couple stiffened. 

Silence. 

Anakin folded his arms and furrowed his brows, “they came here. Didn’t they?” His tone lowered. 

Silence. 

“They paid you.” Obi-wan spoke calmly, already analysing the situation. 

The purple woman looked down, and then gently picked up the half used medpac, her hands shaking. 

“The girl…was worried.” Her voice was soft spoken. “Not for herself, but him. He was bleeding.”

Obi-wan crossed his arms, parallel to Anakin and stared down the medpac. “So you helped them..”

“It is not a crime to help someone!” The man besides her called out defensively, squinting his eyes. 

“Well it is a crime to help terrorists,” Anakin muttered, but loud enough for everyone to hear. 

“Terrorists?” The woman's eyes widened. “They were terrorists?”

Obi-wan glanced over to Anakin and tried to laugh it off, not wanting to send the couple into cardiac arrest. “Well. We aren’t sure of anything.” He tilted his head. “Do you know where they are now?”

The older woman nodded speedily,  “She said she was heading to the city square where the protests are. Near the farmers market. But..she was scared.” 

Anakin lifted his brow, “of what?” 

Looking him dead in the eye, “being seen,” she announced. 

–

Obi-wan and Anakin were on the outskirts, just enough steps to see the masses of bodies that moved. 

Protestors moved, some shouted and some watched. It wasn’t long before Obi-wan caught a flicker. 

A flicker of gold that was reflecting from the sun. Moving too fast. An uncomfortable limp. 

Obi-wan’s eyes widened and locked onto the figure. Blonde hair. Broad shoulders. It was worth a shot. 

“That might be him,” Anakin huffed, already making his way down, eager to end this mission.

Obi-wan rolled his eyes, “Always ahead of the game,” he said, racing down the steps and into the crowd. 

It was suffocating. You could feel the sweat and anger that radiated off the bodies. 

Obi-wan pushed through bodies, wanting the man to enter a clearing before holding him in the masses of people. Locals were yelling in languages he didn’t recognise which only intensified everything around him. His cloak constantly was snagging on someone’s arm but he didn’t stop, pushing through, curses were flying at him.

He needed an opening - just one - and it would be fine. 

Something is off. 

The force rippled. 

The blonde headed man suddenly turned his head towards Obi-wan.

It was him. It was Dev. 

And not far behind him was a cloaked figure. Her. 

Dev locked eyes with Obi-wan, his eyes widening and stray locks of hair falling on his face. 

“Jedi!” Dev exclaimed to you, his eyes darting between behind you and yourself. 

Without even taking a chance to glance behind you, you began to push through the crowd. Gritting your teeth, you used your arms to almost shove people out of the way. You could not be caught as a bounty hunter. It was not necessarily the legality of it, it was the bombing that was associated with you and it was your honour shattering that you have been reduced to this much. How low the galaxy forced you to crawl just to survive. 

Just a little further. A  little further and there was an opening and you got yourself out of this mess. 

“Dev! Over there!” You barked, pointing towards the clearing. Dev nodded and attempted to make his way out with his limp. His face pale but understanding. He always understood. Understood you. You didn’t need to speak much for him to completely understand you. 

You surged through the crowd with all your might. Suddenly hyper aware of the blaster at your side, your fingers grazed it, ready to use if anyone tried touching you. 

Relief. Oxygen. As you finally made it out of the crowd. Your hands were shaking but you didn’t stop, you can’t stop. 

And then- a shove. 

Dev’s body slammed into the ground right where he was supposed to make it out and the Jedi tackled him to the side. You heard him grunt in protest, his wrists pinned and the right of his face scraped against the ground. 

Before you could react and turn back to Dev, you heard the hum of a saber. 

Right behind you. 

What should I do?

Fuck. 

They’re getting closer. 

Your lungs feel like they could explode and your chest hurts. You’re running so fast. Any of that relief you had just felt from making it out was gone. Dead. You just felt like you were burning. Your veins pumping with adrenaline – hot and sharp and screaming. 

You didn’t dare look behind you. If you did it would slow you down immensely. 

But it didn’t matter. 

A rough hand –bigger than your own– pulling on your forearm, throwing you down, your hood falling in the process. Without another second to think your free arm gripped onto your vibroblade. Having been pulled down to the ground, you shifted your body to meet the Jedi, your blade coated in cortosis weave and pointing up towards said person. 

.

..

…

“Y/n?”

It was like time stopped. 

You locked eyes. 

Your mouth fell open. 

His did too. Confusion. Bewilderment. Shock. All on his face. 

His voice… Sounded different. Quieter than you remembered. It wasn’t anger. It wasn’t hateful. Just quiet. Broken. 

Your right hand weakened and the blade fell down on the floor besides you, the metal clanging against the concrete. Your palms fell on the floor and you found yourself staring at…Anakin above you. 

Anakin staggered back, stunned, as if he was shot straight through the heart. His head shook slowly and ever so subtly but in complete disbelief.

No one said anything. You couldn’t hear anything. It was just you two. Two broken people. The force felt electrifying, like it was rippling and pulling both of you towards each other. 

Anakin loomed over you, the deep blue of his saber still humming, but pointing towards the ground. His own arms feeling too weak to even lift it. His face was unreadable. His dark brown hair looked longer, almost below his ears. His eyes…tired. Like he was staring at a grave. 

It wasn’t until the other Jedi came out, holding Dev in handcuffs that you realised your situation. It was Obi-wan, of course it was. Of course it was Anakin and Obi-wan who would catch up to you. Dev struggled in defiance, his face discontent. 

Obi-wan walked up beside Anakin, and then his eyes fell on you. 

“Y/n?” His voice was quiet, like he wasn’t sure if this was real or not. “You’re Ani?” 

You looked away from him, pursing your lips in shame. What were you supposed to say? You weren’t supposed to be caught, stripped of your mask. You were just supposed to be Ani. Not Y/n. 

You swallowed hard, your fingers soft in comparison to the floor. You were now looking up to both Anakin and Obi-wan but –force– you felt so much smaller than you actually were. 

Anakin inhaled sharply, his saber hissed off yet his grip strong enough that his knuckles were still white. Running a hand through his hair, he turned his back to you, moving away from both you and Obi-wan. You felt the disappointment in the air. You felt the judgement from the people who you used to consider the closest to you. Anakin turning his back to you after a year said more words than he did.

But he could feel his heart hammering against his chest.

thump

He was suddenly hyper aware of his breathing.

thump-thump

The way he wasn't sure what to do with his empty left hand.

thump

The fact that his knees would buck in any minute.

thump-thump-thump

It felt like everything was swirling around him and he needed to ground himself.

However, Obi-wan walked over to you, crouching down to eye level. You noticed the small things in his face, the way he had worry lines on his forehead, a slight frown, and furrowed eyebrows. He wasn’t looking at you like a master or a commander, but a concerned friend. 

“Y/n, you became a bounty hunter?” He asked. 

You didn’t know how to respond. What were you going to say? Yes? Well, yes you are. But suddenly you felt embarrassed. Ashamed. 

“I…” You croaked out. 

“You know them?” Dev called out, struggling against his cuffs. All three of you diverted your gaze to Dev.

Dev broke Anakin from his trance, his need to distract himself hitting him harder than ever. He needed to redirect his attention to something else just like he was doing for the past year. Anakin stood still for a moment before grabbing the back of his shirt, replacing Obi-wan but far too aggressively.

“Hold her.” Anakin said to Obi-wan, forcing his voice to be strong. “We’ll take them somewhere else.”

That’s it? That’s all he’s going to say? 

Anakin spoke as if he didn’t know you. Like you were some lowlife smuggler. Obi-wan even felt caught between two worlds. Was he supposed to disregard your history together? Or would he hold you accountable? 

Clearing his throat, Obi-wan pulled out stuncuffs from his satchel, looking at you as if you were a wounded animal. 

“I’m just going to put these on just for now. Precaution.” He said softly. 

Nodding, you slipped in your fallen vibroblade to your belt and slowly brought out both your arms in front of him. Obi-wan hesitantly and carefully attached the cuffs to your arms.

Click. 

Immediate discomfort radiated in your arms, the restraints tightening specifically on your wrists.

You looked up at Obi-wan who you could tell was uncomfortable with the situation. 

“I’m fine, Obi-wan.” You tried to reassure him. 

Obi-wan nodded, inhaling deeply before getting up. Scrambling to your feet against the concrete, you rose and immediately felt smaller than you were. Now seeing both Obi-wan and Anakin in their usual height, it felt different. Like there was a rift between you three.

Looking over at Anakin, Obi-wan scratched his beard. “We won’t be able to fly tonight. It seems the city's protests will make it difficult to get out slyly.” 

Without a response, Anakin began to drag a cursing Dev to Force knows where. 

Obi-wan followed behind him but distant enough, making sure you were keeping up. 

The walk felt excruciatingly long as there was nothing but pained silence. Every now and then you could feel Obi-wan’s gaze drill holes in you. Anakin said and did nothing but hold onto Dev and try to find an abandoned place for the night. You were lucky enough Obi-wan still trusted you to allow you to walk on your own. 

It wasn’t until he broke the silence. 

“Are you okay?” Obi-wan spoke in a hushed voice, trying not to gain Anakin’s attention but that was naive thinking. Anakin heard everything when it came to you. 

You blinked at the question, unsure what to say. Your throat tightening but you forced out an “I’m okay.” 

Silence. 

A beat passed. 

“Are you?” He asked again but much quieter. He knew your response and he knew not to expect an answer but if he didn’t ask now it would eat his conscience later. 

“Yeah. Just tired.” Anakin’s grip tightened on Dev, their boots scraping and their clothes shifting pulled your focus. 

The sky began to set and orange rays stretched far and wide. Dipped in dusk and every step you took would create long shadows of the three of you. The chants from the protest began to fade and street lights began to flicker on. 

Anakin was a walking storm. He was silent. You missed the way he said your name. It sounded like honey -warm, golden- like he almost remembered what it meant to him. Except he didn't.

Instead, it was a taste from a dream he couldn’t quite remember. 

Anakin stopped at a stone-framed building. Abandoned, yes but still intact. The door had its hinges, there was no lights except from the windows and no lifeforms either. Without saying a word, Anakin dragged Dev inside, the door creaking open and they vanished into the unknown.

You and Obi-wan stood in silence. 

“He’ll be alright.” He said gently, not exactly sure if he meant Dev or Anakin. Nodding, you stepped inside first, the evening wind biting your skin. Obi-wan followed right behind you. 

A/N: YAAAY ITS HAPPENED im sorry its kinda on a cliff hanger ik yall want longer chapters but i also need to catch up and write :( also just a general q do u guys want this to be a full blown series leading up to order 66 following the clone wars final season/eps with more drama and romance and angst or keep it until this like 'arc' ends.

i lowk feel like a longer series but i feel like tumblr isnt the right place for this lol maybe ao3 or wattpad also hope u guys appreciate me trying to use coordinated gifs for the chapters 😭

HOPE U GUYS LIKE IT THO <3

Taglist: @endairachristensen26 @hayden-christensen-verse @ducks118 @seventeen-x @movingalongthekiwi @ssnapsaurus @caramelfondu @dayrin085 @devilslittlehelper @f1wh0recom @green-lxght @bettysgardenswift

if u want to be added or removed lmk!

[tarre-was-right]

FINALE - You might want to read the propaganda this time. Lots of misinfo in fandom on these two in particular.

Remember, this is NOT about who would win in a fight. This is about who makes the best leader for Mandalore as a whole.

Explanation post

Seeding

Propaganda below the cut! You can submit more on this post and I will reblog it back to here! I was going to keep the text-only bits above the readmore, but we got enough in that it takes up more space than I thought.

Yes, I will even reblog the stuff based on fanon, but I will judge you for it.

SATINE KRYZE

Anon: Satine because she served. Mandalorian fashion week would love her. Manda'slay.

Anon: Satine Propaganda: Was supported by the STRONG MAJORITY, led Mandalore to be in peace for NEARLY 20 YEARS, didn't ban mando'a or armour or any part of the culture like fandom claims, is a good fighter, considered EVERY Mandalorian a Mandalorian and didn't discriminate

@lightsaberwieldingdalek: Satine propaganda: she actually ran a functioning government. Not a mercenary band, or a death cult, or a terrorist extremist organisation, an actual functioning government. Yes there was corruption, corruption she did her best to stop to the point of personally getting in firefights with smugglers, but she took a planet devastated by civil war and by the end of her rule she had schools, public works, and a justice system. - Sure, the rest can run military operations (and we don’t know Satine couldn’t, only that she *won’t*) but can they make the bins get emptied regularly to go to the recycling plants?

@lightsaberwieldingdalek: I understand Jaster has the tacticool appeal, and has the iconic armour, but guys. He did an interpretation of some problematic historical values for the more modern day, led a mercenary band, and under unknown circumstances his group started calling him the historical-cultural title of the ruler of their entire cultural group. I know he’s cool looking, and shoots real good, but at most he’s the equivalent of someone who could be a cult leader but doesn’t want to be. - Meanwhile. Satine. You have issues with her ethical code, and she’s not a cool cause she doesn’t wear the armour. And yet she is the one who *actually ran mandalore*. For 20-ish years, and not only kept it stable but built it up from the ruins of civil war! - Yes yes T-helmet cool and military man competence nice, but that cannot equal taking the ruins of a war torn society and turning it into a mostly peaceful (when terrorism happened it was a big shocking deal, not normalised) urbanised people who eat well, have access to luxury and specialised education (get a offworld Jedi to come lecture) and can ACTUALLY BREATH IN THE ATMOSPHERE RUINED BY ALL THE WARLORDS LIKE JASTER TRYING TO FIGHT THE REPUBLIC TO PROVE THEMSELVES.

Anon: Satine propaganda: she knows what the aftermath of war is like. Jaster knows war from a soldier's perspective, a commander's perspective. But Satine knows it from a noncombatant's perspective. She's seen the aftermath and wreckage it leaves behind. Rebuilding after a war takes far longer and likely costs more than the war itself. I don't think Jaster cares about what happens after the battle. But Satine most certainly does.

@archangelsunited: Efficient and long lasting leader of her faction for years, was able to navigate neutrality with the Republic during the Clone Wars. Excellent Hair pieces.

@publiusmaximum: She allowed her society to experience it's first moment of peace and prosperity in a thousand years. - After she was killed, her society was taken over by fascists and gangsters. In short order Mandalore was razed, made uninhabitable, and her people scattered. - Satine was right about everything.

JASTER MEREEL

Anon: Jaster is the one who should rule Mandalore and all Mandalorians, although he started small he searched to make a new code of conduct for Mandalorian bounty hunters, he tries to keep the culture intact yet keep Mandalore progressive and not stuck in the past and from killing each other.

@spacetime1969: He literally rewrote what it means to be Mandalorian, and he created an entire movement around said philosophy that had a good chance of becoming the controlling party of Mandalore if he hadn't been assassinated. What more do you want?

Anon: Jaster for the win, he's the most recent one who actually knows some shit (as much as I love Din Djarin this poor man doesn't know ANYTHING), besides Jango and Boba but they're both very unstable individuals.

@nerdpickle: Jaster, his philosophy perfectly balanced tradition and reform, keeping the best of both worlds, he was also one of the few people chosen by the people

Mereel is a strong and powerful leader. He defeated the traiter Tor Viszla in battle and even took in a poor, orphaned Concordian child after the battle. No more will Mandalore be forced to consider such petty ideals as peace in order to avoid outright war. Instead, we shall be known throughout the galaxy as the greatest mercenaries the galaxy has ever known. Under his rule, we shall triumph over the foolish savages of planets unconquered and be paid handsomely for it!

Anon: Mereel is a strong and powerful leader. He defeated the traiter Tor Viszla in battle and even took in a poor, orphaned Concordian child after the battle. No more will Mandalore be forced to consider such petty ideals as peace in order to avoid outright war. Instead, we shall be known throughout the galaxy as the greatest mercenaries the galaxy has ever known. Under his rule, we shall triumph over the foolish savages of planets unconquered and be paid handsomely for it!

@archangelsunited: Had a structured document for Mandalorian Culture in the modern (tm) day. He fought with the warriors he sent out and took personal interest in the results of his actions (Jango Fett mentorship). Pissed off Tor Vizla.

@nerdpickle: Satine’s Mandalore was like Switzerland, except without the well trained military, incredibly advantageous terrain, high gun ownership and giant nuclear armed alliance providing a free buffer zone on all sides.

SATINE

@bosooka: Originally here

i wrote way too much for my original draft of this (and it turned into a "fuck jaster mereel" party) so here's an abbreviated version

Why Satine is a Better Ruler Than Jaster in 2 Simple Points

Point #1: Satine actually maintained order on Mandalore for decades

This one is simple. Mereel became Mandalore in ~60BBY and Tor Vizsla tried to overthrow him a mere two years later (and nearly succeeded). He was only in power for six more years before he was betrayed by the very same violent people he allowed to remain by his side because of his belief that a Mandalorian warrior was "merely a highly-paid soldier".

Contrast Satine: ruled from approx. 42BBY until 19BBY, a reign of 23-odd years. For twenty-odd years of her reign New Mandalore was completely peaceful and there were no challengers to her authority among the people or elsewhere. Death Watch only became an issue again when they received Separatist (and ultimately Sith) backing, and Dooku discarded them for being useless. Had Death Watch not allied itself with Maul's Shadow Collective I don't think she would have been overthrown at all.

Point #2: Satine kept Mandalore out of places it didn't belong

As we've established, Mereel had no issues with Mandalorians being mercenaries, used however their clients saw fit. I won't go into the weeds of the ethical implications of mercenaries and why they are illegal under international law on Earth, but in short: letting anyone pay one to kill others is the easiest way to become the cudgel of a fascist. Coincidentally exactly what the Fett clones become when Sidious uses them to exterminate the Jedi. Mereel's "reforms" of the Mandalorian ways did not prevent his troops from getting into a fight they couldn't win against the Jedi on Galidraan (and yes, the Mandalorians shot first:

not that anyone in the fandom remembers this...) after they but an insurrection down on behalf of the corrupt governor of the planet. To be clear, the True Mandos knew that the governor of Galidraan was corrupt and most likely harboring Tor Vizsla, but they still agreed to kill "insurrectionists" for money. Their problems came when Death Watch arranged to make it look like they had also killed women and children. Truly a war between saints and monsters.

Meanwhile Satine: the head of the Council of Neutral Systems, she refused to take sides in a war pushed by the greedy and violent. Yes, she was briefly protected by clones when it comes to light that Death Watch is aligned with the Separatists, but it was immediately followed by the Republic attempting to militarily occupy Mandalore and Satine risking life and limb to keep her people autonomous. Satine refused to become a useful idiot for warmongers, even knowing that it would have been economically advantageous for her to do so. Unlike Jaster Mereel, she has ideals that she values more than credits. He would have accepted an offer from the highest bidder and turned Mandalore into a machine of war for the Sith, just like his Crusader ancestors once did.

Tl;Dr

Satine was actually respected as an authority on Mandalore for literal decades and was only challenged by a miniscule faction of terrorists who had to get foreigners to interfere in their political processes (FML) in order to actually take power from her

Satine kept Mandalore out of conflicts it did not belong in, which largely protected it from military occupation and destruction until the year she died; Mereel made a career out of interfering in the affairs of other planets if they were paid to do so

Unlike Mereel and his successor, Satine had morals to motivate her decisions that were not the pursuit of cold hard cash, including the protection of Mandalorian independence and neutrality