WINNERS HAVE BEEN CHOSEN!
I haven’t heard back from all the winners yet, but if they haven’t received their e-mails, I hope they at least see this blog…
DISCLAIMER: These ficlettes are the property of the people who wrote them. Please ask their permission if you want to copy them for ANY reason. Entries have been slightly edited for spelling and severe grammar infractions; otherwise I have kept them in the state in which they came to me.
All right, enough chitchat, let’s get this ball rolling…
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GRAND PRIZE WINNER – GQD
Yes, that’s the handle she goes under. She receives first place for a chilling little piece I like to call “The Bird Story.” She will receive a fanfic starring herself as her prize. This is a work of complete fiction, please do not call PETA…The birds were singing that morning.
On a planet in a galaxy far away, artificial day was once again rising on Imperial Center. The light’s rays could only penetrate into the murky fog that was the large city: pollutants in the air, despite the massive cleaning efforts of Atmosphere Control, the rest of the city was laid in a haze. Ships of all shapes and sizes flew in a monotonous, controlled rows: each its own passengers dully headed to each its own ‘diabolical’ business.
An entire century could be spent describing the megalopolis that was once known a mere two decades ago as Coruscant. Even today, it was a thriving as it had been in the New Republic. One could say that despite it’s controlled Imperial environment, it was as unchanging as it was long ago: that not event the will of the Emperor could change what had been already set down.
But the interest lay not in the hustle and bustle of the city, rather, what lay in the center of the teeming mass of evil. The Imperial Palace-the heart of the beast, which lay in the center of the hustle bustle. They said, if you went out at a certain time at night, when the city’s traffic was at its lowest, you could hear something coming from Imperial Center: a steady beat, like a rhythm, much like a heartbeat, that gave life to the Empire.
But they were only stories, after all.
The giant palace loomed from out the buildings, spiraled, tall, dark and menacing- like a castle of olden days, when the ancients Terrans paid tithes to the Lord or King. But the palace did not have much traffic coming towards it today- it was actually quite still, surprisingly.
In the center of the looming Palace, in the many enclosures sealed off from the eyes of the public, were several indoor gardens. Each one more magnificent than the last, there were at least thirty of the galaxy’s best gardeners tending each of the gardens- how many gardens were scattered throughout the Imperial Palace was unknown. There could be dozens, there could be three.
In fact, no one, not even the High Officials and Advisors to his Majesty did know how many gardens really were in the palace. Perhaps only Lord Vader knew.
But the Sith Lord was currently away from Imperial Center on Imperial business… he had rather hurriedly left perhaps not two days ago. The inner circles of the Imperial officials were abuzz with rumors: apparently, Vader had left without any contact with the Emperor with his brief visit. Of course, perhaps a holo conversation, but not a single real contact.
But few were privy to this information, and the two guards were not part of. The red-garbed two motionlessly stood, as from the spacious doors leading into the garden, as a solitary figure shroud in black, seem to glide into the room, so full of life, like a shadow, coming to swallow the teeming atmosphere within its core.
Such was the heart of the beast. Such was the Emperor.
The decrepit figure walked past the Red Guards, in front of one of the largest flora. His golden eyes fixed upon the highest branches of the tree- where a half dozen tiny birds sat among its branches, each a wooden brown color, with red covered breasts. He said nothing, the Sith Master. Instead, he watched these birds.
But one the tiny birds became brave- few humans came into this room, and as they did, had never minded the birds. The tiny bird cheeped to its brethren, and hopped down the many branched tree, through the looping growth, so it could get a better look at the ugly thing below.
The so said thing, golden eyes now locked on the bird, lifted a pale white hand, which to the bird, looked none the less like another branch of the tree. Giving another cheep, it spread its wings, and with a tremendous jump of its tiny feet, propelled itself onto the pale hand.
“So trusting…and so brave.” the Emperor purred, in the still of silence. The guards did not move, nor were expected too. It was uncertain of whom the Emperor was talking to, but to the two soldiers, it mattered none the same. They were expected to be statues, invisible, nothing.
The bird peeped again, as the skeleton fingers stroked the top of its brown head. “I once had an apprentice just like you…who trusted me, and was very brave. Full of foolish ideas, and so naïve in the ways of the universe. But I taught him everything I knew, this apprentice. I destroyed all the good within him, so he could fully control his power, and fulfill his dreams.”
The hand had stopped stroking a while ago.
“But now what do I find, little bird? My apprentice, after all I have given to him, power, wealth, prestige, chooses instead to rebuke all that I’ve taught him. He has fled Coruscant, on word that his errant… SON…” The Emperor hissed at this word, “Has been sighted on a desolate planet.”
The bird had gone quiet in his hand, and the ancient man stared down at it, meeting its tiny black eyes.
“For a still wild streak, I can sense, is in him. Something I have overlooked. I thought I killed Anakin Skywalker a long time ago. But despite my efforts, the little bird still tries to defy my wish, and submits himself to ideals I thought left him long ago. ”
The bird peeped again, hopping towards his wrist, to try and get a better look at the ugly man. The bird was not afraid of such a being- no human yet had hurt him or his kind. The Emperor’s long fingers, which had laid rather limp, slowly formed claw like, and surrounded the tiny bird, who gave another peep.
“Apparently, in my training, I neglected to clip its wings.”
The birds were singing that morning.
Now they did not sing.
FIRST RUNNER-UP – Wednesday42My mom swears I’ve watched Quantum Leap (a show involving time travel) a few times in my childhood, but I cannot for the life of me remember the show. However, one doesn’t need to be familiar with the show to enjoy this piece. Wednesday42 will be written into my next fanfic as a side character for her entry.Something was very wrong, Sam decided. Granted, something was always wrong, but even this was a bit much.
It had all started normally enough: The temporary paralysis, the crackle of energy that always made his hair stand on end, the vague “whooshing” sensation… but then the “whoosh” became more of a nauseous “vvrrooOOOM-
WHUNK”, and here he was.
He hadn’t opened his eyes yet; his head was spinning too much to risk it. His other senses seemed willing to fill in for his vision for the time being, so he tried to concentrate on them rather than his rebelling stomach.
What he had initially assumed was his pulse roaring in his ears resolved itself into a rhythmic, mechanical sound of some sort. Beyond that, he could hear something that sounded like birds, and what seemed to be the wind through tree boughs, though he couldn’t feel any air movement. Gradually his attention shifted to his hands, which he realized were gripping something whose size, sturdiness and height indicated a handrail. His feet were firmly planted on some kind of hard surface; a fact he desperately encouraged his stomach to acknowledge.
Finally, after assessing these bits of information and determining his innards were about as calm as they were going to get, Sam decided it was time to try having a look around and opened his eyes.
Oh.
Bad idea.
The first thing his brain registered was
“red”
which wasn’t so bad by itself. No, the
really bad part was that after
“red” came
“Leaning-over-a-hundred-foot-drop”.With a strangled cry Sam leapt back, his arms pinwheeling as he overbalanced. His limbs felt abnormally heavy, somehow, and what on Earth was he wearing, anyway?? His red-tinged vision swam, going in and out of focus as various objects – trees, railings, was that a bird? – tilted past. He was obviously wearing some kind of electronically enhanced visual equipment, but since he didn’t have the hang of it, it was playing havoc with his sense of balance.
After a few more stumbles, he managed to regain his hold of the handrail he’d noticed earlier and paused to take a proper look at his surroundings (or at least as proper a look as his vision currently allowed).
He was on a raised walkway of some sort that was sitting amidst the biggest trees he’d ever seen – it looked very much like the giant Redwoods, but he couldn’t recall such a construct being built in the national park. Large metal doors with similar-looking control panels sat on either end of the walkway, though the one on his right appeared slightly different.
He was just trying to make out the vague shape beyond the walkway when the door on the right hissed open. Sam watched the figures coming through the opening, his eyes slowly regaining their focus, and his gut gave a frightening little flip as he suddenly understood where – and
who – he was.
It was impossible, but there was no mistaking the bound silent figure in black who strode forward, much less his white-armored escort. And right on cue, the commander in grey who led them stepped forward to inform Sam, “This is the Rebel who surrendered to us. Although he denies it, I believe there may be more of them, and I request permission to conduct a further search of the area.”
The commander stepped forward, handing Sam an unnervingly familiar object. “He was armed only with this.”
There was a long pause as Sam helplessly regarded the lightsaber in his black-gauntleted hands. This couldn’t be happening. It just couldn’t…
The small group facing Lord Vader frowned in ill-concealed puzzlement as they thought they heard his rumbling, normally intimidating voice squeak out:
“…..ohboy….”
SECOND RUNNER-UP – RinnalaissRinnalaiss’ little piece is titled “Conflict,” and she states that she decided to give Vader what she calls a “Gollum complex.” Sad as it sounds, I have never seen “Lord of the Rings” and had to have it explained to me… but that does not detract from the story. Rinnalaiss will have a cameo role in a future fanfic project.Darth Vader sat in his quarters on the Executor looking back to the planet of Bespin through the viewport. Many things have happened there, and in the past few months. He had a son. A son! It bewildered him. How could Padme’s child have survived when Palpatine told him that he, Vader, had killed her before she gave birth?
No matter. He is a Jedi, and taught by Kenobi no less. Obi-Wan Kenobi. The man who taught him… the man who kept him on a leash too short. Oh, how that man infuriated him! His jaw clenched. His hands balled themselves into fists. His rage itched to be let go…
“Pardon me, Lord Vader,” a voice filled the room, “the Emperor wishes to speak with you.”
“Very well”. Vader strode to the holoprojector and turned it on. An image of the Emperor flickered to life as he knelt.
“What is thy bidding, my Master?”
The hologram of Darth Sidious sneered. “You have disappointed me, Lord Vader. You have not yet accomplished in bringing young Skywalker to me. It almost seems as if,” he paused, “you do not want him to be in my possession.”
“No, Master,” Vader was quick to reassure. “That is the furthest thing from my mind.”
“Then why have you not yet brought him to me?” the Emperor asked angrily.
Vader responded carefully, “He is very intelligent. He ranks high in the Rebellion. He has ties to the smuggler that I have recently sent to Jabba the Hutt and the Alderaanian princess—friends in high places…”
“Listen closely, Lord Vader,” Sidious interrupted. “Skywalker must turn, or die. Am I understood?”
“Yes my Master. It will be as you wish,” Vader intoned.
“Perfect.” The hologram dissolved.
Vader sat back down.
Do you truly want Padme’s child, your son, to suffer as much as you are now?
That was the Anakin inside him- his conscience, his voice of reason, the main cause of his inner struggles, and the voice that questioned the sensibility of his turning to the Dark Side. He looked down at the confining armor that just as much sustained his life as it hindered his movements. While modifications had been made over the years, Vader would never be able to revert back to Anakin’s agility.
“Of course I don’t want him to suffer like I do! I loved his mother. I loved her! I DID THIS FOR HER! I became what I am to save her and the baby!”
But you didn’t save her, Anakin reminded him.
She still died, and partially by your hand as well. It was you defiance of the Jedi Code that killed her. You loved her and you married her. And with that marriage came an attachment that you feared to lose. ‘Attachment is forbidden’. That is what you were taught. You disobeyed the Council and your Master- the man who was at once a father, a brother, a teacher, and a friend. You betrayed their trust and the trust of everyone in the galaxy.
Vader go up and started to pace. “The Jedi cared too much for their power. They didn’t want to lose it. They didn’t want to believe that I had more power than they did! That’s why they didn’t make me a Master!” He walked over to the wall and kicked it.
True, the Jedi grew fond of their position. So would anyone else in their place. Imagine, being as close as they were to the Senate and the Chancellor without being a senator. But remember, they weren’t always like that. Do you believe that Qui-Gon was power hungry?“No,” Vader found himself admitting. “No, he wasn’t like that.”
Vader sunk deep into contemplation. Should he capture his son and therefore damn him to a lifetime of torment? Should he disobey his Master and consequently sign his own death sentence? Either way, Sidious won.
You do not have to imprison Luke. You do not have to obey the Emperor.Vader sighed and rested his head on gloved hands.
“I must obey my Master”.
THIRD RUNNER-UP – KatherineSeldom have I laughed harder during a fic than during Katherine’s little gem here. I’m sure anyone who’s had to do a similar project in school can attest to what kind of lunacy can occur when teenagers and video cameras get out of hand. Katherine will have an opportunity to name a character in an upcoming fanfic."And...cut!" I yelled.
Three days into the making of our English class parody and we were already sidetracking. "Well, obviously," one of my castmates had said, "Took George Lucas what, a year? And the teacher wants ours in two weeks. Not like we're gonna do a very good job."
Steve and our narrator were having an argument. “Natasha, you’re still way over our time limit,” he began.
The Narrator snorted as she interrupted him. "Well, let's see you have a go at explaining a two and a half hour film in twelve minutes! Honestly, we have to do the first hour in three minutes so we can have our duel. I'm only human."
"Okay, everybody, back on track!" I handed my megaphone to Sarah and said, "Here, you have a go. My part's up next."
Oh, lucky me. I had gotten the part of soundtrack player and Anakin for the next bit. This meaning I had to get our radio to play the soundtrack, run onscreen, do my bit, and switch the radio to the next number so we could do the Vader scene.
I snagged my lightsaber from our props bin, a glorified clothes hamper borrowed from my mother. My brother, the official Star Wars nut in my family, had loaned me all the props for our parody, Anakin's lightsaber included. "Right," I muttered in my best English accent, "Let's have a go at this."
I had already gone 'evil' in the previous three minutes, but that section was going to be played very very fast, so no one was going to pay much attention. This was the moment where our parody was going to shine: Mustafar.
Just for laughs, all the girls were doing the male parts and our lone guy was playing Padmé bravely, markered lips and all. I came onscreen and posed on the flattened cardboard box that was doubling as our floating platform. Continuing from the (mainly nonexistent) previous lines of mine, I said in my best Hayden Christiansen imitation, "From my point of view, the Jedi are evil!"
The cinematographer broke out in a fit of laughter. Ignoring this minor distraction, my counterpoint faked, "Then you are lost!"
Here was the "brilliant" point. With no pause, I shot back, "Well I have a GPS! Beat that!"
The rest of the scene was equally canon mixed with random. And then, the cutting off of limbs. For this, we were going to pull a Monty Python. Sort of.
"Well," I asked Steve, our effects master as well as Obi-Wan and Padmé (we were short about fifty people). "How are we gonna do the arm-off-at-the-elbow bit?" I held up a hand. "Wait. Is this going to be painful or humiliating?"
"No," replied Steve. "All you have to do is bend your arm like this."
"Ooh. That does look painful. Let's do this thing!"
Back on camera, we hurriedly did the Monty Python-quality special effect that would simulate my cut-off legs. "I'm invincible!" I screeched, imitating the Black Knight. "I'll bite your legs off!"
With the cameras rolling, we managed our 'dialogue,' mostly consisting of me lying on the dirt ramp trying not to laugh and Steve reciting his Obi-Wan lines from memory.
And next...the Vader scene.
One cheapo Vader costume from Wal-Mart, check. Photoshop, check. Hasbro Darth Vader Voice Changer, check. One extremely cheesy Palpatine outfit (consisting mostly of a grayish bath towel), check. One hysterical fit of laughter from the cinematographer...also check.
By the time the last "Nooooooo!" was echoing through the house, we were all laughing, me through the voice changer, which sounded really creepy, being that Vader doesn't usually laugh.
About three minutes later, we were all collapsed on various pieces of furniture, most of us still in our costumes. We were comparing how bad we looked in our costumes. "Look, you're five two, for crying out loud! You're like a foot shorter than Vader! In other words, you look like it's Halloween!"
I shrugged. "Hey, it's a parody, it's supposed to be hilarious."
"And what, Vader is staring at Palpatine's chin?"
"Ah, yes." The guy playing Palpatine is about five six, so there’s a major height difference there.
“Um, guys?” Cindy was sitting off at the edge of the room, staring at the wall. “Guys?”
“Yeah?” asked Steve, in the middle of a game of Go Fish with the rest of our seven-member cast/crew.
“Is it bad if the wall’s shimmering like that?”
“Like what?”
As most of the people in our school were wont to do, we crowded around her chair, also staring at the wall. Looking back, we probably looked like a bunch of lunatics.
“Ohh,” said Steve. “You mean like something bad is going to happen?”
Before Cindy could say something sarcastic back to him, the wall exploded in a shower of dust. We did a little group scream (like people do on roller coasters) and made a mad dash for the couch.
After a bit of furniture rearrangement (I assure you, there’s nothing like insane fear to lend a bit of strength to your limbs. The fact that there were seven of us probably helped too) we popped our heads out from behind the couch, now about a yard from the wall.
I think I was the first one to yell “Huh” or some kind of exclamation before we really saw what was going on.
Then we all bolted like a pack of lemmings for the door.
You see, the reason the wall had been shimmering was that something funky had been going on interdimensionally. The explosion, however, was due to something very large and very fast crashing into the wall at high speed.
This very large, very fast thing turned out to be an Imperial Shuttle.
The last thing you want in a parody is for the people or characters you’re parodying to show up. See why we were running?
Also, the possibility of having someone chasing us (most likely the passengers of the shuttle) was more than a little frightening.
So that’s why my neighbor had seven kids in Star Wars costumes show up at her door at five in the evening.
HONORABLE MENTIONS (in no particular order)
This is really going to be my longest post ever! All honorable mentions get to host the character of their choice at their house once the peace conference is FINALLY over (that doesn’t mean they still won’t come over for a visit every now and again, though). Tom
Tom gives us a look at “The Perils of Hyperspace Travel” in his Vader-centered vignette. Boba Fett is en route to his residence.
Vader hated hyperspace travel. He stood brooding on the bridge of his personal flagship, the Executor, watching the hyperspace tunnel before him. He was a man of action, a Dark Lord who changed worlds and lives. Mustafar had taken much from him, but the need to be active and work as he had been in his former life stayed with him. But when traveling between worlds, there was little to do beyond meditating in his chamber and dueling with the special dueling droids he had set up in the ship’s target range and gym.
Even these options, though, were never enough for him. No matter how much he tinkered with the droids to improve them, they never were good enough to defeat, or even worry him. Like the General Grievous of old, the dueling robots were outfitted with multiple lightsabers, but lacked the creativity and true skill that either the cyborg general or any other lightsaber wielding opponent had. Vader didn’t relish the idea of meditating either. Sith meditation was much different then that of its Jedi counterpart. A Sith focused on his rage and anger, building them to a boiling point, and then bathing in the emotions and reaching into the Dark side of the Force. Dark Lord or no, sitting in his hyperbaric chamber being angry for several hours, was not something he was interested in normally, unless preparing himself for battle, or needing guidance from the Dark side.
He scowled under his helmet, and then winced as the uncomfortable helmet that helped to keep him alive scratched his cheeks. By the Force, couldn’t his Master have at least made the damned thing more comfortable? He’d worn this black shell for roughly twenty years and hated every moment of it. Grudgingly, though, he had to admit that his appearance helped in casting fear on his opponents and subordinates. Vader growled, making several bridge officers cower or jump in fearful of anticipation what often occurred onboard the Executor when Vader was in a bad mood. He turned, black cape swirling behind him and barked, “I’ll be in my chambers. Alert me when we have reached Hoth.” The battle for Hoth would be a decisive one, and Vader wanted to make sure he was good and ready for it. Nevertheless, he wasn’t looking forward to his meditation and knew that he would be in even worse a mood when he was finished.
Telpy
Telpy’s fic, “Education,” had me in convulsions of laughter (and Vader in hysterics with embarassment), especially the very last line. Wish I could see how this one played out. Grievous will be his guest from this point forward.
Young adolescents crowded into the dim room, girls on one side, boys on the other, all in the back half of the classroom. The absurdly bright outfits of the girls, coupled with the braces and barrettes were misleading, and only seemed to emphasize the somber atmosphere. Whispers spread slowly, soon they were punctuated by nervous giggles. The boys started in on their louder games, lewd jokes were being told, all about the lesson at hand. They might not have entirely understood them, but they laughed anyway.
“I heard,” one girl said, cautioning against the jokes, “that if you even smile during the movie, they’ll give you a detention.”
“Well, we’d better get it out of our systems now.” One boy responded as he shoved his friend from his seat.
“They cannot.” Scoffed an incredulous tomboy.
“Who’s they?” asked a third girl.
“The teacher.” The first girl responded. “And they can too!”
“Sez who?” snapped a second boy before shoving the first one to the floor and reclaiming the desk.
“Yo mama!” Retorted a random kid from behind them.
“Hey,” asked the bright pink queen bee, “anybody know what happened to Christi and Matt?”
“Their parents wouldn’t sign the paper.” The classroom silenced a moment, torn between sympathy for poor Christi and Matt, and a desire to join them in the library, reading fantasy books.
“Guess they just ain’t ready to play with the big kids!” quipped the first boy.
“You guys know what that means, don’t you?” asked a girl in one of the middle rows.
“You obviously do Lee, why don’t you enlighten us?” asked the second boy sarcastically.
“What it means, Marc,” Lee snapped. “Is that they’re gonna get the talk from their parents.”
“Ugh,” Voiced the class as one. They lapsed back into silence.
“That sucks.” One kid finally said, just as the door opened. The students gasped as their teacher walked in, Marc fell from his desk. No one dared move.
Darth Vader surveyed the students and once again wondered what he had done to land himself here. With a wave of his hand the desks straightened out. Students scrambled to their proper places and sat up straight. He looked at the lesson plan firmly attached to the clipboard, and back to the class, he straightened his tie. Except for his steady breathing, and the whimpering of the ‘yo mama’ boy in back, the room was silent. Ah, the power of the dark side. “I am Mr. Lewis.” He introduced, glad that his masked covered the twitch of his eye at the pseudonym.
“No you’re not.” Lee said, her voice returned.
“Yes, I am.”
“No, you’re not.” She repeated. The other students were looking at each other, to Vader and back at Lee with a measure of both amazement and fear. They knew she was a know-it-all, but… arguing with Darth Vader? “You’re Darth Vader.”
“That resemblance,” Lee’s hands shot to her throat as she was temporarily rendered unable to speak, “is deceptive.” Everyone watched with wide eyes as Lee’s face turned first blue, then purple. She grabbed an open box of gobstoppers and threw it at the dark lord. He released her from the force choke as his respirator sucked in one of the candies. It stuck in the front. Marc stifled a laugh. Vader glared at Lee as best he could from behind black transparasteel, she glared back. “Fine,” he admitted, realizing that the Force choke definitely could leave him susceptible to a lawsuit. “I look like Darth Vader. For your rudeness you will receive a week’s detention. Are you finished?”
Lee nodded, breathing deeply as her color returned to normal. Vader removed the gobstopper from his mask and dropped it in the trash.
“I am your sex ed teacher.”
Roseprincess
Roseprincess’ blog details her life with the Transformers (remember them?), and in “Toy Aisle” the worlds of her blog and my blog collide…
No one out there would have, or could have ever predicted that it would happen. No one would have ever imagined that if it would happen in of all places, it would happen in the action figure aisle of Toys r Us. But it did, it happened and it was something that all parties concerned would never possibly be able to forget. Two sons, and two fathers would have a most memorable meeting and one girl would be caught in the middle, nearly dieing of embarrassment.
It was simple enough for two of them. Their hostess, Roseprincess, had wanted to purchase something new for her collection. The rest of those who had moved in with her seemed to either have their hands full or had no interest in going so it had fallen to His son and Him to accompany the girl. The second that they hit the store though, nothing went as any of them had planned.
He followed the girl over in the direction of the Hasbro section while his son managed to vanish into the electronics section. He stood behind her as she proceeded to go about methodically picking the display apart looking for what she had come for. Honestly? He thought it had to be one of the most disturbing lines of figures that he had seen the company release. It was, if he had to guess, the company taking advantage of a way to make money off both of their most popular lines. For some strange reason though she had decided that they would fit in well some where with the other things that took up space in her much over crowed room. So here he was.
She was fussing at him to get the one she wanted down when he spotted him and it caught the leader completely off guard. Oh he had spoken to this individual before. He didn’t really find him that intimidating. Seeing him in this setting though was something that no one in any universe or any planet would have been prepared for. The black clad figure was followed by a shorter blond man. That once he got a good look at him could tell that he was young, about the human equivalent of his own son’s age. The boy was in the process of chewing out the intimidating shadow as it purposefully headed in their direction.
He was about to say something to the pair when the girl he was with proceeded to get his attention.
“Rion!” She blinked, “Earth to Orion Pax! Come in please!”
“Huh?” He looked down at the girl, “Did you say something Rose?”
“Uhh.. yah... I asked you about ten times would you please get the Vader Figure down for me? I’m short.”
“Oh,” He reached up and plucked it down for her. “This the one you wanted?”
“Yah,” She held it away from her and looked at it, “I can’t believe that Hasbro felt compelled to make Star Wars Transformers.”
“Uhhh… Rose?”
She stoped examining the toy and looked up at him, “What?”
“You might want to hide that thing,” He informed her.
“Why would I want to do that?” She looked back down at it, “And who the heck is fussing over there?”
“Ummm…”
“Sounds like and argument between Luke and Darth Vader.” Rose muttered under her breath.
“Actually…”
“Actually what,” The girl asked as she looked up and spotted the pair. “Oh.”
He watched as the girl promptly shoved the toy out of sight behind her back and muttered to herself, “Kenya needs to put a bell around his neck.”
“I heard that,” The shadow proceeded to respond.
“Lord Vader,” Orion greeted him.
“Prime,” The Sith retuned the greeting and continued to glare at the girl, “What might I ask is that… THING she has?”
“This,” Rose laughed nervously, “You ahh… really don’t want to see this.”
“Calm down Rose,” Orion told her, “He’s not going to bite you.”
“Much,” Luke shot back.
“That’s enough,” Vader snapped.
“No really,” she tried again, “I’m sure it isn’t of any interest to you at all Ani… so I’m just going to…”
She got an even nastier glare at that point and yelped as she got elbowed.
“Don’t call him that,” Orion hissed, “Specifically if you like breathing.”
“Uh… right ummm…”
“Is she always that hyper?” Vader asked.
“Actually no, usually she’s pretty calm. She’s just embarrassed by what she came to get to day.”
“And that would be…?”
“NOTHING,” Again the girl protested, “Really, its nothing!”
She probably would have gotten away at that moment. She would have made it up to the check out and nothing more would have come out of this chance meeting had it not been for one tiny thing. Roddy chose that precise moment to walk up behind the girl, pay absolutely no attention to who both her and his father were talking to, and pluck the toy out of her hands.
“Hey awesome, they have Vader!” He held it up, “You think they have the one of the X wings that turns into Luke?”
Cho_Chous
I have not seen Tremors (a movie about giant killer earthworms, I hear), but that doesn’t make Fett’s situation in Cho_Chous’ story any less absurd.
It was just a simple hunt but now because of that Boba Fett was now being chased through space by his fellow mercenaries.
“Good. A Hyperspace lane,” he muttered.
As he made the jump into Hyperspace, he failed to notice a bomb attach to the hull of the Slave.
He exited near a small planet. The scanner said it was called Earth and that all contact was prohibited. He wondered why, when he felt a tremor from deep within the ship.
What the stang?
But Fett would never know because another tremor rocked the ship causing him to fly forward and hit the yolk. The last thing he saw was Earth getting closer.
Break
Boba Fett awoke to find a blazing sun overhead. He got out slowly and assessed the damage. The last thing he needed was to be stranded in unknown territory.
The Slave had taken a direct hit and required some replacements but that was pretty much it. As he scanned the area Fett saw, in the distance, what looked to be a town.
Better head that way if I’m going to find the parts I need he thought.
He reached the town in a half an hour and he realized that he wasn’t going to find any of the parts he needed. The sign next to him read:
City of Perfection.
Population: 5
Est.1900
The town was only four or five buildings and he could tell from the architecture that he had landed on a backwater planet.
Stang. This is just my luck.
Luckyfish
I’ll let Luckyfish explain her entry, “Another One Bites the Dust,” in her own words:
“My latest story is that of cognizant, Force-capable, mutant goldfish who (against her will) becomes Darth Vader's apprentice, but, being my story, fights the Dark Side tooth and nail. It's confusing, convoluted, un-cannon, and weird beyond all imagining, but, hey, I'm the one writing it, what do you expect? Please bear with me. (I write out-of-order, so this is a chapter from the middle of the story.)”
I swear I’m going to kill the next person who hums, whistles or sings a Queen song. I’m that ticked. It’s not that I hate Queen. I disagree with some of their lyrics, but I like some of their songs. How did you come to be in this state? you might wonder. Well, it was through a series of circumstances that could not have taken place anywhere else in the galaxy.
I was innocently ordering another order of wristbands for the Rebellion to sell with a credit chip I found on the floor (Funding the Alliance with the Empire’s money: just another service I provide). Turns out it belongs to an obscure and likely disbanded department of the Imperial Senate. Well, they won’t be getting it back.
So, anyway, it’s just another day when I hear this music. After a few moments, I recognize the distinctive percussion. Another One Bites the Dust. I rolled my eyes. You see, you can’t convince Darth Vader that the Imperial March is his theme song. You can try, but he’ll never really buy it. Also, you can’t try and tell him that Queen is just a band. Because, deep down, he thinks of Queen as not a band, which they are, but his theme song guys. And Another One Bites the Dust is his theme song. Along with We Will Rock You, though I rather hope the last verse isn’t accurate. At least, not most of the time. I have to cut him some slack. I hold Green Day in the same regard. At least for some of the songs. You have to admit, “She’s a Rebel” does describe me a bit. Though I would say the majority of the Beatles’ music could be considered my theme song. But I digress.
So, due to this bizarre notion, I listen to a lot of Queen. I have the words to most of the songs memorized, because Darth Vader plays them about once a week. Which I don’t mind. If I did, I’d sing my own lyrics to “We Are the Champions” at the top of my lungs, no irony intended. But this was a whole new ball game.
That song was on for four straight hours. That’s 68 times. I counted. For the first thirty minutes, I just sang along. I do like the song: don’t get me wrong. After that, I started to get irritated. After that, I got desperate.
“For pity’s sake, turn off the song!” I finally pleaded.
“Is it bothering you?”
“No, three hours ago it bothered me. After four hours of nonstop Another One Bites the freakin’ Dust, it’s about to drive me INSANE!” I tend to rant when I’m agitated. I took a deep breath. And another. “Sorry, I’m just a bit disconcerted.” Apparently, Vader thought it was funny, because he started snorting with laughter. Now THAT’S a disturbing noise.
But, hey, even if I yelled at my roommate, nearly went insane, and was found amusing in my half-crazed state, all in all, not a bad day.
She-Nexu
She-Nexu’s mini-fic, “Dead Man’s Thoughts,” is exactly as the title states. Oy, the thought of Palpatine laughing is enough to chill the blood…
Anakin Skywalker. Hero of the old republic. The chosen one, and the ‘Posterboy’ of the Jedi order – the self-same Jedi order that brought their own hero down upon their heads, made all the wrong moves, and lost that game of holochess permanently. The order that banned attachment, emotion, and, fatally for them, love.
Love. A weakness, a flaw by all accounts. That was the only thing that both the Sith and Jedi orders had ever been able to agree on. And yet…
The warped embodiment of the dark side of the force, known to a few living beings as Darth Sidious and to the rest of the galaxy as Emperor Palpatine, shoved that thought away before it could reach completion. What was he doing, anyway? Dwelling on his fool apprentice’s past, and the equally fool order that was long dead and gone, if not then certainly very soon. He must be getting old.
The being chuckled, a black, clotted noise of the kind that gave children nightmares, and settled back in the hoverchair to await the arrival of his apprentice and Luke Skywalker.
PCBabySunribbon and Darth Loki
And last but not least… the infamous, long-awaited Star Wars/My Little Pony crossover! PCBabySunribbon and Darth Loki team up to bring us this piece of hilarity, “The Visitation.”
Darth Vader looked coldly down into the Admiral’s eyes, his menacing figure the last thing that the doomed man would ever see.
“You have failed me once too often, Admiral,” said Vader, in that voice that the fanciful had often remarked belonged to Death itself. The Admiral had reprimanded them for this many times; now, looking up at the inhuman mask that was the most that anyone saw of Lord Vader, the Admiral couldn’t help but perceive a tinge of irony in the situation. He closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable crushing grip on his throat that would end his unremarkable life.
There was a quiet pop from behind them.
“Aww, damn,” said a girl’s voice. “Sunny, I think your translocation messed up again.”The Imperials turned to stare at the pair of teenagers and the group of colourful equines that had materialised in the middle of the bridge.
“Aww, man,” complained the unicorn, a bright-yellow creature with the tattoo of a sun on its flanks, “not again. I hate it when this happens.”
“Remember that time we ended up in Australia by mistake?” asked the purple Pegasus reminiscently. “Firefly stepped on that snake and it chased him for half a k. Emily said that it was a taipan.”
“Whatever,” interrupted the girl who had first spoken. “I think that we should be more concerned about where we are now.”
The boy beside her looked around thoughtfully, taking in the staring, uniformed officers, the technology that hummed on every wall, and the view of deep space beyond the observation deck.“Well, it sure ain’t Kansas, Dorothy,” he offered. The white pony behind him hit him over the back of the head with one of her hooves. The girl just scowled at him.
Vader just stared quietly, oddly calm. That was it, he thought. Palpatine had finally driven him mad. All those requests for golden bathtubs, all those orders that Vader iron his cape because the creases were a disgrace to the Sith that time that Vader had walked in to find Palpatine dancing to Glenn Miller’s ‘In the Mood’ with a bemused Imperial Guardsman – it had all built up until Vader’s mind had cracked under the strain. There was simply no other explanation for the appearance of living versions of ‘My Little Pony’ appearing out of thin air in the middle of the bridge...
...unless Palpatine was messing with him again. Vader frowned as the purple pegasus observed that one of the engineers had been playing Solitaire on his console, but didn’t really notice. Was it possible that Palpatine had somehow engineered this situation in order to bewilder his apprentice?
He had taken to doing things like that lately. Really, it was about time that the man was put in a home. He was positively childish. And he kept contacting Vader to ask him nonsensical questions like had he seen his velvet cloak, and half the time he called five minutes later to ask precisely the same inane question, having forgotten their previous conversation completely. If only these lapses had affected his planning abilities as well, Vader thought sadly. How was he supposed to overthrow his Master like every good Sith apprentice should when said Master insisted on making it impossible for him to do so? The man was insufferable.
Vader was pulled from these reflections by the girl tugging on his cape.
“Hey,” she greeted him. “Hi. We’re kind of lost. Do you know where we are?”
Vader drew himself up, radiating darkness, his gaze focused on the small hand gripping the black material that swept from his shoulders.
“You are aboard the Imperial Star Destroyer Executor,” he replied icily. The girl took the hint and obligingly let go of the cape. Vader eyed the wrinkles dolefully. He’d need to iron that bit again now. He looked back up in a way that did not bode well for the girl.Vader found himself staring into the face of the pegasus.
“Nice threads, dude,” she noted brightly. “Love the mask. It’s got a real ‘Lord of the Underworld,’ vibe to it.”
She moved around behind him to get a better look at his cape. One outstretched wing hit Vader in the face, and for a moment he found himself breathing in a musty, oily smell from the bright feathers.
“The cape’s great, too, man,” she enthused from behind him, while Vader wondered when the stang the impossible creature had last bathed. The teenage girl rolled her eyes and made an apologetic face. The pegasus trotted into sight again.
“I like this guy,” she told the girl. “He’s like a Prince of Darkness.”
The girl looked pained and steered the pegasus over to the other two ponies and the boy. There was a quick, mostly-unintelligible discussion.
“It’s cool,” the yellow unicorn announced. “I can get us there now.”
“Right,” the girl said briskly. “Let’s go then.”
The entire group winked out of sight.
Vader stood for a moment, simply staring at the spot where they had been, before striding out of the bridge to find something strongly alcoholic, leaving the forgotten Admiral to near-kill himself by laughing hysterically.
Thank you all for your entries. We all enjoyed ourselves immensely.
