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Wounded: Redux (challenge response/rewrite. SW OCs) (Fin)


Tiana Calthye

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Wounded: Redux

 

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is... an old story. A very old story. Rewritten. I honestly can't remember what I meant when I wrote Wounded. But here. For AniT and anyone else who actually wanted the story to make some SENSE, to contain backstory and logic and more than fragments of a duel as recorded by a watcher.

 

Wounded, redux. OCs, blah, whatever. Based on original work, but set in Lucas's world.

 

Response to a challenge this time too, though I admit I used ”˜Jedi' in this one. Response to April's 3: write a story about a traitor, 6: covered, pale, port, ghost, remorse.

 

RATING: PG. For action and angst.

GENRE: Drama, angst, action.

 

 

<><><>

 

 

Hey. Remember back then? When we used to be friends? It was really a long time ago, though. Back in the Temple. Remember?

 

It's all right. I don't exactly expect you to remember. It was really a long time ago. You know, back when we were all made of professional, outward appearances and we strode around like the galaxy was laid bare at our feet, all cocky and so plastic. We laughed on cue, we stalked into battle on cue, we glowered down at ambassadors threatening our position””well, you glowered down, I glowered up and threatened to kick them in their most sensitive areas, of course. I never could really glower down to anyone. I was always the short, little one.

 

Remember? When they used to give us orders and we'd leave Coruscant as ambassadors of the peace, holding our lightsabers out and smiling only for the good of the Force, frowning for the sake of our own faces.

 

Emotionless.

 

Unless the Force said otherwise.

 

Remember me? They sent us on a mission to Dantooine. Something about a cave and fragments of the old Order”¦

 

We never made it that far.

 

We were shot down and crash landed and ended up in that tiny hotel with the aliens not even my height, pulling two beds side by side so that I could lie down, and you could sort of cramp yourself in beside me, your long legs dangling off the end of the bed and propped up on a chair, a blanket tossed over your feet.

 

It was kind of funny back then. I laughed at it and you reprimanded me for it, too. I laughed back at you and told you that I only took that tone from Althea.

 

You glared more at me with your icy grey eyes. I remember giggling, hysterical at the thought of being glared at by a Jedi Master who couldn't even fit into bed.

 

I remember you got drunk that night. Too drunk. A few too many glasses of wine and then one, just a little one, of port and a couple of that weird mixed drink they said wouldn't possibly make you any more drunk than you really were. They were right. By that point you were giggling and walking into things and attempting to balance spoons on top each other with the Force””and miserably failing.

 

I was the one who reported back to the Temple to say we'd crashed our ship, there was a pirate team after us”¦ I was the one who got us permission to pursue them.

 

So we did. Your Padawan was back at the Temple and they sent her to Dantooine while probably shaking their heads at us for failing to make it even that far. I don't know why they sent us in the first place. We weren't really compatible. I was short and giggly after that, you were tall and gloomy and stared out windows while I laughed at you.

 

You had a long, silver lightsaber. I had a short hilt and could barely use it to protect myself from blaster-fire. I carried a blaster too; you always questioned my sanity and why I would carry something so conventional, so unethical.

 

I remember telling you I wasn't really an ethical Jedi.

 

I was right.

 

So why was it you who fell?

 

I guess I should tell you this before”¦

 

”¦Before the end. That's a little hard to type, you know. But so's this:

 

You have a daughter.

 

Her name is Diana.

 

<><><>

 

Apoque traced him to Sullust. The galaxy was dissolving into turmoil; ironic that he'd be directed to a planet that was also turmoil. Or perhaps it wasn't turmoil. Perhaps it was just that he knew she'd come after him, he knew that his tiny lover would leave the Temple and vanish on one of her missions and direct her ship into the darkness of the galaxy and into the will of the Force.

 

And the Force had brought her here, had reached down and kissed her mind and whispered here. Here he is. On a planet covered in toxin, the one suspended by toxin waits for your black eyes to cross his once more.

 

It had given her a vision, had granted her the sight of him, sitting on a stone and patiently building another lightsaber, a rebreather in his mouth, the power of the Force sustaining him in the poisonous atmosphere, protecting his flesh from the sulphur and acidic rain. His breath was fog, and in that moment, she hated him. She hated the Force, she hated the Order, she hated everything that permitted him to sit there, living and breathing in his embraced shadow.

 

She knew she should've hated herself for growing attached to him.

 

She shouldn't have tracked him here. It had been years; fourteen years of aphotic hell for him and fourteen years of turbulent faith for her. She shouldn't have hidden their daughter and left her as just another person, just another Padawan. She shouldn't have.

 

Apoque knew she shouldn't have been setting her ship down on the wracked soil. But she did, anyway, breathing slowly as she listened to the planet moan around her. Lightning, volcanic activity; the entire surface was volatile and prone to destruction at any moment. Not really a safe place for a Jedi Knight with only a small lightsaber hilt at her side, and a rough brown robe and farmer's clothes pulled over her pale skin. It covered her, but it wouldn't protect her from acid and magma and the toxicity of the air.

 

The Force would do that.

 

She drew her hood up and pulled a mask over her mouth and nose, goggles over her eyes. The goggles were for sand, but they'd suffice. And then slowly, ever so slowly, she drew a pair of black gloves over her fingers. They slid into the armoured fabric, and then she sighed.

 

She didn't think she regretted coming here.

 

She only regretted that she was about to die.

 

Extending her focus around herself, forming a shield of clean air and sustained air, she walked off the ship.

 

Even the Force didn't prepare her for the assault of pain as she strode into the planet's chaos. She couldn't”¦ not with the heat, not with the storm, not with the”¦

 

She'd walked into a pit of steam.

 

”¦The darkness”¦

 

Not when her feet buckled under her and it was all she could do to fall into the Force and let it protect her as the poison began to creep into her lungs.

 

<><><>

 

It was a presence, like nothing he had felt before. It was familiar, it crept into his mind like the poisonous atmosphere of the planet. Enovik set his lightsaber aside, taking his old one and clipping it to his belt. Familiar, like the sound of the spaceship setting down not too far away. Familiar, like the clearing a few meters below sea level, where a thin layer of sulphuric gas gathered, the atmosphere congealing on the rocky desert. It filled with steam at this time, but as the night crept in, it became thick, boiling water poisonous to any man.

 

It was the feel of the light side of the Force.

 

He swore softly to himself””stang””and strode to the entrance of his cave. It was a short walk through stones and crevasses, but he knew this land well by this point. He knew where the ash angel's flight paths lay, and where to find the sweet Drutash grubs the Sullastians craved.

 

And he knew how to avoid the underground, cave dwelling aliens that populated the planet. And how to find them, when his supplies grew low, and when his air scrubber began to groan from overuse. But mostly avoid, all the native species got in his way unless he required something from them.

 

The ship that had set down was no native's ship. It had the high pitched, familiar whine of a Corellian ship, the JMK-9. He only knew one person who had a ship of that class.

 

And it was someone he had to admit, he didn't quite expect here.

 

But the ship certainly wasn't one of the freighters or cargo ships he often saw from the locals. No one needed a long-distance scout ship here. They needed a large ship to get them safely through the atmosphere and the electric storms constantly pummelling the planet. Or a starfighter to get them through unharmed. Not a scout's ship”¦

 

He crested a hill. Sure enough, it was the Abroidine that perched in the middle of the steam pit. And a Jedi Knight that lay in the middle of it, steam pooling around her as night crept in. Enovik stormed through the steam, the hot water evaporating around his boots as he walked to her, picking her up.

 

It was like holding a ghost.

 

”œApoque,”

Edited by Guest

spsig.jpg

Just when I thought it was over, I watched Tiana kick Almira in the head, effectively putting her out of her misery. I did not expect that.
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There, now, that was awesome!

 

And a good reminder of how dangerous the way of the Jedi is!

 

I found like two punctuation errors, and that was it! Great work!

(snrks) Well, yeah. I kinda wrote it all in one rush to get it all down. It took me about four hours or something.

 

Yeah, it's awesome. It's on FF.net too. I'm quite happy with this, actually. Really happy.

 

People want more. BWHAHA. Well, one person does. Snrk.

spsig.jpg

Just when I thought it was over, I watched Tiana kick Almira in the head, effectively putting her out of her misery. I did not expect that.
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*nods* Yes...I remember this. I got to the old part and remembered reading it before. I like what you did with it, adding the backstory and such.

 

There were a few spelling things, and some punctuation things too. Most of the spelling things were just typos--"snow" instead of "slow", "light" instead of "like".

 

Good work.

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SHE MEANS TO END US ALL!!! DOOOOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!!!!11eleventyone!
There goes Ami's reputation of being a peaceful, nice person.
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No, that was supposed to be snow. I didn't search for 'light instead of like', but 'snow instead of slow', you're wrong. It's funny my only critiques on this are basically 'this word was wrong' and I can go 'no, I did it because of whatever fill in the blank'. A snow sleep is describing the process of hypothermia. When someone gets hypothermia, they slowly begin to slow down and fall asleep. Their mind just shuts down, becoming sluggish, and finally they just close their eyes and go to sleep.

 

And they don't wake up.

 

And that's what I was describing by 'snow sleep'.

 

Read the old version and you'll see this one is dirastically improved and makes about +5000000 times more sense.

 

EDIT: And I fixed 'felt light a nightmare'.

 

Thanks for reading.

spsig.jpg

Just when I thought it was over, I watched Tiana kick Almira in the head, effectively putting her out of her misery. I did not expect that.
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Wow. That was beautiful. I love your writing style; it's so precise and imaginative.

Aww, thank you. I don't always write this way, I tend to delve into a lot of different styles and I consider this one of my best works of late... sorry, Ami, but I do like it and I don't think that's a typo but I won't try sway you... (coughs)

 

But thanks for reading and commenting!

spsig.jpg

Just when I thought it was over, I watched Tiana kick Almira in the head, effectively putting her out of her misery. I did not expect that.
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