A fair warning: I will be using Legends as the main continuity. The Clone Wars themselves will be structured as a mix of the show and the original Dark Horse comics, more so the latter. As much as TCW offered, it directly contradicted and made a mess of the most consistent part of the entire Star Wars EU, so I'll be mixing the two where possible. Characterizations will be more in line with Legends for some of the supporting cast, and the power scaling will be adjusted as such. Characters such as Sev'rance Taan and other Legends exclusive characters will likely be here, and Grievous will be the death god he was in Legends. (Gungans, really?)
Mandalorian Lore will most definitely reflect Legends more so than Nucanon, along with other things related to the Outer Rim and the fleshed out portions of the Star Wars universe.
As you can tell, I prefer Legends over the new canon.
And an accurate depiction of the scale that a galactic war is like will be definitely written. Billions of lives expended, planetary surfaces blasted into rubble and scorched into blackened slabs of glass, and the unbridled fury of Force adepts capable of ripping through hundreds of opponents being unleashed upon one another.
Shout-out to the four advisors that help me with the behind the scenes stuff, of whom I share similar genetic material with one and not the others, thank the Lord for that.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy the chaos. Except you Mand, my brother in Christ, you can go fuck yourself. xD
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"In the close proximity of death, blood and the earth, the spirit takes on harsher features and deeper colours. Existence itself is more sharply threatened... such that life itself represents the choice between downfall or conquest." - Ernst Jünger
/
"The first time I ever heard what the Force is was when I was a young child, listening to an old man that had made a desolate and dry planet his home explain it to a farm boy. Call me a sneaky little spy, but they didn't know I was listening."
'The Force is what gives a Jedi his power.' He had said. 'It is an energy field created by all living things. It surrounds us, it penetrates us, it binds the galaxy together.'
"I was enthralled, you see. Here I was, a child that could not comprehend the power that radiated from a withered old man. I still could not comprehend what wielding the Force entailed, even when I saw him wage battle and die against a truly hellish adversary, nor when I saw and later heard of the escapades his apprentice got up to in the following decades."
"Even as I grew in both body and mind, true understanding eluded me. I knew of death and the brutality that can be wrought by sapient life before I knew of the Force in its totality. But to bend reality to your will; to conquer death and break nature, is power that can only ever be understood and wielded by those that are like us, Padawan."
"So, tell me, Ahsoka Tano, what can you possibly hope to do against me when I have accomplished the most frightening feat of all that a user of the Force, Dark or Light, can achieve… Comprehension?"
Mand'alor the Breaker to Ahsoka Tano, 21 BBY.
/
"Keep your fucking dicks in the dirt!" Sgt Hastings shouted, explosions rocking across where we were pinned at.
It was just the twelve of us. We'd been cut off from the rest of our group as they tried to get to us, but it wasn't looking good.
Machine gun fire peppered across us from the ridgeline, kicking up the dry ass dirt around us.
We returned fire when we could, but we were outnumbered and fucked. Brass said it wasn't an issue to send a convoy through here; the enemy wasn't here any longer.
Fucking idiots. It wasn't the Berenstain Bears shooting at us, now was it?
I peeked over my cover, which was a god-forsaken boulder, and saw the muzzle flash of some dipshit with his AK about 150 meters from where I was at.
I bent my knees and aimed my rifle, pressing it against the side of the boulder to steady my aim.
Squeezing the trigger four times, I sent a quartet of rounds at my target, at least one striking him as he jerked to the side and fell to the ground, not moving afterwards.
"RPG!" A voice rang out in warning, my eyes widening when I saw the trail of the rocket.
It was headed for me.
My body barely shifted to step away from the rock by one or two steps before it impacted, hitting the boulder directly and causing it to explode.
The next thing I knew, everything was ringing and I was on the ground, my vision swimming as I heard someone's voice echoing down a corridor.
"Blevins!" I heard my name finally, a blurry image of one of my squadmates above me. "Get up! We gotta get out of here!"
When I couldn't respond from how out of it I was, he grabbed me and started dragging me, bullets whizzing by us.
We got to the dried up creek bed that we were using as an impromptu trench and he lowered me down, dropping me a foot or two.
My vision wasn't completely fucked now, but my head was still pounding as I started to regain my bearings.
That was when I realized it was Jacobs that had dragged my ass to safety. Crazy SOB deserved a thank you for that.
Blinking a few times and checking my arms and legs for any shrapnel or blood, I didn't find any and got to a crouching position, looking over cover quickly.
Bastards were charging straight for us.
Fuck.
"Light em up!" Hastings roared, the crack of our own rifle fire picking up as we were getting rushed by several dozen of them.
I raised my own rifle and started shooting, less steady than earlier.
We brought down half of them, but it wasn't enough. Right as I took one down and my gun stopped firing, I realized it was empty. Before I could fish out a new mag, I felt something strike my helmet and knock the brim downward into the bridge of my nose.
"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" I dropped down and kept cursing. A fucking round nearly just took my head off.
I finally got a new mag in my rifle and sent the bolt home with my thumb, hearing automatic fire to my right.
One of them got in and was shooting.
Gonzalez got hit point blank and fell down screaming. I leveled my rifle at the fuck and lit him up, turning his chest into ground beef after putting half a dozen rounds in him along with a couple other buddies.
I immediately ran to Gonzales and slid across the ground, scrambling to help while the others moved towards another spot to contain the enemy.
"Jose!" I shouted his name over the gunfire, seeing that he got shot in the side and shoulder where his plates didn't cover him.
"Hijo de puta." He was swearing as he gritted his teeth, going into a stream of vulgar Spanish as he writhed on the ground in pain.
His arm was bleeding horribly, his sleeve already soaked through completely. I grabbed the tourniquet that was strapped to his chest and started to wrap it around his arm, trying to stop him from bleeding out.
He suddenly froze and shouted my name, looking behind me.
I immediately started to turn around, but I felt myself get hit by something twice as someone shot at me, causing me to dive to the side as I spun to a crouching position and started spraying blindly.
His AK had jammed mid spray and he was just standing there trying to get it fixed.
The bastard fell to the ground and I popped my empty mag out, shaken by how close that was.
My plate took the hits, but the ceramic was probably powder at this point.
"Watch my fucking back." I said to Jose, pulling his pistol from his chest harness and shoving it into his dominant hand, his right being the fucked one.
I finished up slowing the bleeding in his arm as I went to check how bad the other wound was, silently relieved that I could still hear gunshots.
It meant our boys were still alive.
I got him patched up as best as I could right now and picked up my rifle, peeking over cover as quickly as I could to get a better look at what was going on..
Machine guns were still firing, but they slowed down after they charged in to try and kill us.
I turned sharply when I heard shots behind me, Jose firing down the corridor.
"They're on that side!" He shouted, firing the last round in his 320.
I advanced towards the area he was shooting at and aimed, still moving forward.
One peeked around the corner and I took the top of his skull off with a single squeeze of the trigger, his body falling limply to the ground like puppet with its strings cut.
I kept moving and rounded the corner, knowing another was nearby.
I couldn't hear any more shots in this section, while the one to the east and behind me was still lit up with rifle fire.
I spotted another one with his side turned to me, so I fired three rounds into him, the one that looked to have struck the side of his neck or face dropping him. But there was someone further down that was concealed by the one nearer to me and he immediately started shooting at me.
Several rounds streaked towards me and one struck my gun and went through it, stopping against the top of my chest plate. I dove back around the curve and checked my rifle, cursing at where it hit.
Directly into the chamber and it totalled the entire bolt carrier.
God-damnit. I snarled, clenching my teeth at my now ruined gun.
I glanced back at the guy I killed and ran over to him, taking his AK and checking to see if it had rounds in the mag.
It was enough.
Knowing I was fucked, I aimed around the corner and shot at him, exposing myself.
A bullet grazed my shoulder as a reward and I fired until the gun clicked, another enemy dropping.
Tossing down the AK, I pulled out my pistol and ran back to Jose, knowing I was a sitting duck without my rifle.
Right as I got to where I knew Jose was watching, I shouted out his name to let him know it was me.
As I got to him, I heard even more gunshots and my heart almost stopped.
Three just jumped in right next to him, the group looking startled by my presence.
Without any care for my own safety, I fired at them with my pistol, running straight at them in a dead sprint to distract them from a vulnerable Jose.
One was killed when a round struck his face and dropped limply to the ground, another fell when I saw his chest jerk, and another tore into his knee, causing him to fall, and the other managed to land a shot to my chest that my plate stopped before I smashed into him at full speed and over two hundred pounds of weight behind it.
We both fell to the ground and I wrestled his gun away from him, driving a fist into his face as he shouted for help probably.
My fist smashed into his face repeatedly, until he was completely out of it and I pulled my combat knife out, driving it into his eye socket with as much force as I could muster, twisting for good measure.
He went limp as I did that, no longer fighting me.
"Fuck." I said, breathing heavily as I adjusted my weight to one knee.
I jerked the knife out and looked for a rifle to grab, but fate had other plans.
The one that I shot in the chest wasn't dead, a defiant shout coming from him as he shot me in the back from the ground.
The automatic made him spray without any aim, but it was close enough. I got shot in the thigh, my side, and through my shoulder blade, causing me to scream in agony as I pitched forward.
Fuck… Fuck… The entire world spun as I barely kept myself from falling face first into the ground with my good arm, a horrific realization bubbling up in my head.
I was going to die. It hurt too much. I could barely breathe. The taste of blood was in my mouth as I struggled to even scream.
As I braced for the end, knowing I was going to die in some random track of land thousands of miles from home, what I could only ever describe as the most beautiful sight I'd ever seen in the entire world revealed itself in front of me.
A familiar redneck in marine camo, aiming over my shoulder.
A single shot rang out and a body fell behind me, a faint smile on my face.
I then fell the rest of the way down.
"Blevins." Williams, the one that saved me, rushed forward as three other Marines fanned out to cover every angle. "Don't you fucking die on me, you hear?" He pulled me up and checked where I was shot, causing me to gasp at being jostled..
"Damnit. Anyone else here?" Williams asked me.
"Jose." I breathed out, my vision fuzzy from the pain.
"Jacobs." Williams ordered, "Check Gonzalez and let's get the fuck out of here."
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Everything was getting difficult to focus on, all the voices and distant small arms fire blending in a constant cacophony.
Right as they started to help up the two of us, I coughed profusely and saw blood get all over Williams' face.
That's not good.
"Son of a bitch." The man from Tennessee wrapped a tourniquet around my bleeding leg and hoisted me up, half carrying and half supported me towards where the rest were. "On your feet, Blevins, we're gettin' the fuck out of here."
My injured leg was dragging like a dead weight and my left arm could barely move, but I managed to remain lucid enough to keep my right leg steady enough for Williams to drag me along through the creek bed.
We managed to get to the others after a grueling experience, and the first thing my mind latched onto was Hastings, covered in dirt and having a gauze wrap around his hand that was stained red.
"Anyone else?" The grizzled marine asked, periodic gunfire opening up now and again along the impromptu trench line.
"No." Williams said, setting me down as gently as he could against the slight divot in the trench wall
"Fuck." Hastings muttered, another stream of MG fire raking across our section. "Get down!" He ordered, everyone else dropping to a crouch as MG fire peppered us with dirt and debris, the loud snap of bits of lead striking earth a few feet from us sounding like a hornet's nest from Hell.
With my injuries, I just layed there and tried to stay conscious.
God-damnit. I thought once again, looking down at my barely responsive hand and my fucked up leg.
I was probably getting a medal and a discharge, but that didn't really matter. I only cared about not dying and not getting anybody killed by them trying to save me.
As that thought reached its conclusion, a dirt and sweat-caked face was in my vision, looking at me grimly.
"Here." Williams ducked down further and handed me his pistol since I had dropped mine upon getting shot at point blank range, before standing up and shooting at the enemy I could no longer see.
More orders were shouted by Hastings and more shots rang out.
"RPG!" Almost like Deja Vu all over again, another one came towards us and exploded not far from us, a loud boom reaching my ears.
More seemed to charge at us, but then I heard machine gun fire from a separate direction, the sound different from the others. It was louder, resonating more than a rifle caliber.
Like our 50s.
"We got reinforcements!" Hastings roared over the noise, still shooting.
We were going to get out of this. A corridor was made. We'd be off to base and I'd get patched up. The only thing that could stop this beautiful realization was something only a cruel and unjust world would allow.
Like the one we lived in.
I heard another shout of warning that more were rushing us, more shots ringing out from our trench to keep them out.
Whether it was an enemy that had been hit during the initial rush that tossed it, one of them rushing us now, or God himself, I will never know. But right as a couple of them jumped into the trench and got lit up, a grenade fell about a foot or two from me.
In that instant, as I saw that there was no pin, two thoughts went through my mind. I was the closest to the grenade, and I wouldn't be able to throw it up and out of the trench.
Upon future reflection, my decision was unavoidable, really. Marines were brought up and told to protect the guy next to you, and to fight like his life and your own depended on it.
Making the decision that I hoped every one of my brothers would have done in my stead, I leaned over and fell on top of it.
"Grenade!" I screamed as loud as my injuries would permit me, my eyes shut as my entire life flashed in front of me.
In the span of perhaps one second of making that choice, all the years I lived and what led up to this moment passed by me.
Growing up in that broken shit hole of a town. Learning that punching things can help keep you safe from what's out there. Getting in fights that I had no chance of winning to claw my way out of the gutter. The martial arts training that ended up saving my life, and got me in trouble as well.
My almost forced enlistment after the Incident. My brothers in all but blood. I saw it all.
I'll see you on the other side, guys. I heard a deafening explosion, a flash of light, then everything faded to black.
/ (SCENE BREAK)
Everything was black, no sound or anything at all as I was just floating in nothingness for I don't know how long.
Is this… I didn't even know what to think. The last thing I remembered was jumping on that grenade, then nothing.
Hopefully I somehow survived having it explode on top of me and was in Germany getting treated for my injuries.
That changed when something I could never hope to explain happened. Something touched me. My vision exploded in a cacophony of lights and a dull roar steadily grew, the lights coalescing into two distinct things.
I couldn't even think straight from how loud everything was, and how bright one of the things was.
Things began to form from that inky blackness, I barely noticeable movement flickering in my peripheral as I could see a nearly imperceptible current flowing across my sight.
"Let go," A voice so soft and sweet whispered, offering me peace and rest if I gave in, "Rest, child. Sleep."
I started to feel myself fade back into the pleasant nothingness that I had been in for awhile, until something sharp seemed to jab me.
"Fight." Another voice demanded, making my head ache from the intensity. "Grasp your life and do not give in."
Like a fire that had been ignited, I raged against what were possibly my final moments and willed myself to remain. I would not give in. I would survive this no matter what.
The dark current grew more distinct, and I grasped at it with all my will. Whatever hallucination my brain was putting me through, I was not going to let my body shut down because my mind stopped fighting.
With me gripping the current as tight as possible, almost feeling slick in my grip, I felt a jerking sensation and three silhouettes appeared, before flashing out of existence a moment later.
Constant flashes of light and indistinguishable images I couldn't decipher then assaulted my mind, before everything stilled once more just as quickly as the disturbance had appeared.
I was now floating, completely unanchored and feeling like I was flying gently through nothingness. So, I waited… And waited.
But I still remained like that, suspended and adrift for I couldn't hope to judge how long. After a degree of time had passed, things started to change. A rhythmic beating sound and constant rushing could be heard by me, and I was able to notice that I was floating in a liquid.
Despite being totally ludicrous, my already fraying sanity from spending so much time like this had latched onto something that I was silently freaking out about.
The beating sounded like it could be a heartbeat, and I was floating in a liquid, with a weird pinching feeling coming from my stomach like something was hooked to it.
This had to be Hell. There almost certainly had to be a god, and he had to have punished me for being an unrepentantly violent little bastard as a child, and grew into an unrepentantly violent adult that couldn't give a single damn about beating people into the curb when they tried to start something.
At least I wasn't burning in eternal hellfire for being unrepentant of my sins, but the thought of inevitably getting squeezed out like a turd with a brain was a hellish one.
Hopefully I'm born into a rich family. I thought, slowly starting to accept my shit fate.
I wasn't getting an open casket funeral after what I did, but I didn't care. If even one of the guys I bled with, laughed with, and cried with survived to get home to their families because of what I did, I could suffer whatever the god-awful forces of Murphy summoned against me.
With nothing better to do than slowly stretch out my new mother's insides in ways no man could ever hope to replicate, I went through all the different things I could hopefully do in a new life.
Occasionally, I thought I felt something that was similar to touching it, but it would slip away. I tried replicating that as often as I could, but it just didn't seem to work.
I could do nothing except that as the confined space slowly got more and more tight, until I felt everything shift uncomfortably and I started getting squeezed.
Hours of the most horrible and traumatizing thing I've ever experienced was forced upon me as I was slowly pushed out, feeling like I was being crushed.
A blinding light hit me as my head was cleared and I immediately started shivering, gasping for air as I coughed weakly.
Some fuck didn't seem to get the message that I was capable of breathing and struck me on the ass, drawing a roar of anger from me.
What came from out of my mouth was a high pitched wailing noise, just like a newborn.
A clipping noise came from in front of me and was grabbed more tightly. I was mercifully wrapped in a blanket and put in somebody's arms, warmth reaching me as my shivering lessened.
With as much effort as I could muster, I peaked an eye open to see.
What I assumed was my mother looked down at me, her brown hair damp and sweat covering her face as she gently stroked my cheek.
"Hello." She whispered breathlessly, kissing my forehead. "My gorgeous little boy."
She sang a soft lullaby to me as she rocked me, the last thing I saw confusing me as her moving me caused my head to look out of a window.
It was almost like the sun was blue.
/ (SCENE BREAK)
"A disturbance in the Force, I have felt." Yoda intoned softly, sitting in his quarters with only one other person present aside from himself.
Jedi Master Dooku listened to the elder of the two, having also felt something occur through the Force. But he had been unable to place what it was precisely.
He had just returned to Coruscant after a series of what could be called… less than civil engagements necessary to the continued safety of the Republic and Jedi Order. Having barely reached the halfway mark on his journey back to the Core, a ripple through the Force that had been wholly unfamiliar to him had reached him; which happened to be the reason he was at present speaking with the Grandmaster.
"You have spoken with the Council of this," Dooku paused as he thought of the most apt word to use to describe this event, "Oddity?" He settled on that particular choice.
Yoda inclined his head slightly in acknowledgement, his eyes closed as he continued to reach into the subtle flows of the Force to feel the ripples that still faintly echoed across the galaxy.
Dooku was not able to delve as deep into the endless depths that was the Force as Yoda, but even the most lacking of Jedi felt at least something from this.
After several long minutes of silence, the aged Jedi Master slowly opened his eyes, peering up at one of many students he had trained.
"Clouded, the future is," Yoda slowly stood up, flicking his fingers and pulling his cane towards him, "Know what caused this event, I do not."
The lack of knowledge was something that Dooku would have no hesitation in stating to be dangerous and a potential threat.
"Will any sort of investigation into the more chaotic regions of the galaxy be conducted?" Dooku asked, already suspecting the answer.
Sifo Diyas had been ignored when his vision of a cataclysm assaulted his mind. Millions could have been saved had the Council heeded his plea to intervene. The real question that the middle-aged human Jedi Master was asking was whether they had learned their lesson after such an unforced error not even ten years ago.
"Unknown, this event is," Yoda shook his head, "Cause more problems, we may, should we interfere."
Dooku said nothing, already resigned to such a stance.
"Then I will disturb you no longer, Master." Dooku nodded respectfully, exiting the Grandmaster's chambers.
As he exited the chambers and continued to walk, a spike of irritation bled under the surface of his thoughts, being held firmly in control at the very least.
Nothing has changed. His eyes flicked towards a Twi'lek knight that bowed respectfully to him, which he briefly acknowledged for the sake of politeness.
Unlike many of the Jedi that had not truly seen as much as Dooku had in his decades of life and service as a knight and later master of the Order, he was aware of what was out there.
The Order was supposed to be the protectors of peace and justice, yet slavery still continued to run rampant outside of the more civilized regions of the Galaxy. Crime was here, in Coruscant, their own front door, of the likes that made his lip curl in disgust from just thinking about it.
Whatever this event was that caused such a ripple to echo throughout the Force, he just hoped it would not come to be something the Order would regret not investigating.
/ (SCENE BREAK)
"What do you make of this, Sidious?" Plagueis asked the man standing next to him, having just arrived on Coruscant under the guise of a business venture, to personally speak to his student.
Sidious gazed at the normal traffic of skycars moving across Coruscant's airspace as the sun was setting, bathing everything in an orange light.
"Several visions I had seen of the near future are still completely intact upon further meditation." Sidious replied, having immediately begun delving into the Force to determine what even happened. "The greater future has become more clouded though; less distinct."
Plagueis' ability to see the future had been severely damaged after his own master, Tenebrous, and it never really did recover. It was a good fortune that Sidious was notably gifted in that field of the Force, especially now since the elder of the two was deprived of it in most regards.
"Such a disturbance is not a simple case of a supernova destroying a populated star system, or any other natural calamity." Plagueis mused, " Something unforeseen has occurred."
Unforeseen variables were the death call of plans, and it was a series of plans that had the Sith hidden from the Jedi, poised to strike when the most opportune moment presented itself.
The two continued to speak at length on other subject matters that were planned for this meeting, before the sun completely set.
"Find out what you can about potential reasons for the disturbance from your connections here." Plagueis instructed, flipping his hood up and leaving the room. He had another matter to attend to in order to keep up pretenses.
/ (SCENE BREAK)
A hissing blur of glowing death was all around him, his defense stretched to the breaking point as all he could hear was his own heart beat and ragged breathing, the Force flowing freely through him to compensate for his flagging strength.
His blade weaved dozens of precise and beautiful patterns, keeping the encroaching darkness at bay as it hammered against the orb of protective fire he wove around him.
A minute opening presented itself as another exchange was weathered, his wrist twisting a few millimeters to send his saber's tip skirting across his opponent's blade as it slashed diagonally towards his ribs, the lightning quick counter grazing across an already cracked and damaged gauntlet.
The opening closed in a flash, just as it had appeared, a maelstrom of darkness swirling around Obi-Wan Kenobi as dozens of chaotic and unpredictable attacks struck at him from all angles, his fear being released into the Force almost as quickly as it began to appear, leaving him clear-sighted to continue holding on for longer against the Darksider.
But it would not last.
With a snarl of rage coming from the superior duellist of the two, his brilliant azure saber was pushed aside violently, knocking him off balance for a fraction of a second and an ironclad grip wrapped around his forearm where he could feel the bones creak from the force of his opponent's hand.
"There is no escape, Kenobi." A voice he had heard countless times hissed, modulated through a helmet's speaker.
Obi-Wan wasn't strong enough to defeat him. He was too strong, and his saber was helplessly out of position.
"Anak-" He began to say, but an armoured fist gripping a humming blade of burning energy struck him in the face, making him see stars.
"Do not say that name in my presence, not you of all Jedi!" He snarled, twisting Obi-Wan's hand until he let out a cry of pain and dropped his saber, the blue light winking out of existence.
A kick to Obi-Wan's leg had him collapsing to his knees, an armoured one smashing into his chin and knocking him to the ground.
Obi-Wan blinked repeatedly, tasting blood as he gazed weakly up at the man who was to kill him.
"You failed as a Padawan, a Master, and as a friend, Obi-Wan Kenobi," His executioner stood above him, blade raised, "If only you had died on Naboo. If only I hadn't stopped the Trade Federation's occupation and been the hero... If only." The last two words were full of both rage and despair, the Force signature of the man above stained so horrifically that it had Obi-Wan flinching away.
The blade came down towards his heart, his hand stretching out to call his saber back to him.
It wasn't fast enough.
He barely got the blade activated before the fiery blade stabbed downward, being diverted into his shoulder instead of his heart.
Obi-Wan grunted in pain, a booted foot kicking his saber out of the way and another strike was aimed at his head.
It wasn't fast enough.
Nooooooooo! Obi-Wan Kenobi bolted awake, his shirt clinging to him from how much he was sweating.
The youngling's blue eyes looked around the room nervously, not seeing the eyes or figure that haunted his dreams in the corners.
It's a dream. Not a vision. A dream. A dream. Obi-Wan tried to soothe himself to not panic, but it didn't seem to work at all to calm his nerves at the implications of having the same dream over and over again.
It first happened when the ripple through the Force weeks and weeks prior struck everybody in the Temple, from the Masters down to the younglings.
Constant repeats of that fight, individual details being added over time to the point that it felt like a complete premonition, had taken their toll on him, his studies slipping in both meditation and others.
Initially, it was only flashes of blue and a silhouette of a man standing above him, but it slowly coalesced into a clearer picture with each rendition of it.
Obi-Wan hopped off his cot and went to the small bathroom that was rather relatively plain, but didn't particularly matter.
Turning on the sink and cupping his hands under it, he splashed some water on his face and looked into the mirror, gazing at his youthful face.
Reddish hair and blue eyes, with a round face that looked ashen from what was just witnessed in a vision.
Dream. Obi-Wan thought instinctively, forcing aside the fear as best as he could.
Other younglings had mentioned having recurring visions after the ripple, but none of them compared to Obi-Wan's.
Any time he could reach a modicum of a meditative state, a flash of blue and the hissing screech of saber meeting saber would echo in his mind, the rancid feeling of rage bleeding into the Force driving him away from the otherwise welcoming and soft touch of the Force.
And his saber skills. Oh, his saber skills. No matter what he did, he couldn't seem to replicate the intricate, yet simplistic, beauty of the movements he displayed in his dream. If that wasn't enough, he screamed in terror when he was knocked on his back by Quinlan and the Kiffar boy had pointed the tip of his training saber at Obi-Wan's chest, the image of a wrathful entity driving it into his face doubling over to replace Quinlan's triumphant expression.
He could practically smell the acrid scent of his own flesh being burnt and the burning agony as he was stabbed.
If that embarrassment wasn't enough for him, in a horribly ironic way, Obi-Wan had started to see a bit of a pattern in the fight, and it wasn't the only thing he discovered. When he watched Master Yoda and Master Oppo Rancisis spar as an example to the younglings what a Jedi with full mastery of the Force could manage, he had a startling realization…
His own fight had been faster.
He didn't know if it was because the two Masters were moving much slower for the sake of the younglings, or if he had somehow had the fortune and misfortune both of becoming a legendary swordsman and clashing with one who was even better, but he could never get the dream out of his head.
Knowing he wasn't going to get any sleep, Obi-Wan returned to his cot and practiced his breathing exercises and to meditate, refusing to let fear and anger conquer him from just a dream.
End chapter:
Small introduction to this new story, and I'm definitely going to have fun writing this. If you want war crimes and the waging of civil conflict throughout the galaxy, then you've come to the right fic.
Enjoy the chapter and all others that follow. This is a command.
Raging.