A King for a Queen

Arielle opened the bag with trembling hands. Upon seeing its contents she stifled a scream and sank into a nearby chair, all strength gone from her limbs. Tears began to flow down her cheeks as an immense feeling of guilt and grief crashed into her. Kolton, the king of Pelon, was dead. He had traded his life for hers. The life of a king for that of a lowly guard.

She sobbed quietly for several minutes, head in her hands before she registered that her name was being called. She looked up through bleary eyes to see that General Ravenore and Counselor Chi had joined Grand Minister Bhenod. All three were looking at her, grief stricken expressions on their faces.

"Arielle," GM softly said, "these are for you." He handed her an envelope addressed to her. "In know you must be feeling but we need you to read these immediately."

Confusion mixing with her grief, Arielle took the offered envelope. The script and seal revealed it to be from Kolton.  She opened it and removed several sheets of lightweight parchment and a sheet of heavier weight, the kind used for official documents.

She looked at the lighter weight sheets first. Scrawled on them in a neat, but hurried script was:

Dearest Arielle,
      I cannot begin the express the honor you have done me and the kingdom of Pelon by serving as my guard for so many years. You have performed this duty admirably and with greater conviction than anyone could have asked.
     When word came to me of your capture and Jhaeros' condition for your release I knew, without hesitation, what I would do. There are those who will view the exchange as a foolish king throwing his life away for that of a lowly peasant, but they are wrong. It's that of a king, exchanging his life for his queen. A man trading himself for the woman he loves.
      I love you Arielle. I have for some time now. I regret that I never told you, but the knowledge that such an admission would drive you from the Raven Guard and my side was too much to bear.
      I wish I had more time to explain, but I have one last request of you. This request comes not from your king, but from your friend. Enclosed you will find a Certificate of Marriage. It is dated for several days after we returned from our ordeals in Susal (so it will seem to validate the rumors that already drift through the castle). It is signed by myself, General Ravenore, Grand Minister Bhenod, and Counselor Chi, all it needs to be valid is your signature.
      My last request is this: sign the certificate and assume the throne of Pelon. Petition King Ehrendil. He will stand with you. Unite the armies of Pelon and Iselon and crush Jhaeros. Avenge my death and the death of your father. Take back that which is rightfully yours. You are the lost daughter of Ar’undale, rightful queen of Kamor. Never forget that.
      I know this not something you ever wanted, and I'm sorry I must ask it of you. As you consider, remember that I am not asking this of you as your king, but as your friend. It is a request, not a command. Follow your heart as you always have.
     I must go now. I have a narrow window of time in which I will be able to slip out of the castle and come for you. You can trust the three men I have mentioned. They have been true friends. I wish you all the best.
              Your friend,
                 Kolton

Arielle didn't even bother to look at the certificate. She sunk back into the chair, one hand over her mouth, the other limply clutching the papers.

"These have to be fake." She eventually muttered. The words rung hollow even as she said them. She knew Kolton’s handwriting. The documents were authentic.

"I can promise they are not." Grand Minister Bhenod answered. "While no one knew of his plans to trade himself for you, the three of us were fully aware of the certificate. The king had it drawn up in case something happened to him before he married. It was always his intention that you should become queen in that situation."

Arielle ran a hand over her face and muttered "Damn him. He had no right to ask this of me." She covered her eyes, bracing her elbow on the table before her, once again muttering the curse.

After several minutes she asked, "What happens if I refuse to sign?"

"Then Lord Mourndane will assume the throne." General Ravenore answered.

Arielle looked up sharply at the reply. Lord Mourndane was a tyrant. He would run the kingdom into he ground and all the work she and Kolton as well as Kolton’s father had done to improve the lives of half-elves in Pelon would be undone overnight.

"He is the closest surviving relative." Counselor Chi added.

She ran her hand over her face again, suddenly tired. “This will never work.”

Grand Minister Bhenod chuckled. “I believe I said as much to him when he had Counselor Chi draft the certificate.”

“I wasn't even there! How can I agree to a marriage I was never present for?” She asked, tossing the papers onto the table.

“Well actually-”

She looked up to see the three men look at each other sheepishly.

“What?”

Counselor Chi looked back at her. “You were there, standing by the door mind you, but you were there. It was quite obvious that you were uncomfortable with our arguing.”

Arielle’s memory flashed back to the moment he was referencing. Kolton and the men before her had been in a heated argument over something she had been trying not to eavesdrop on. There had been no obvious reason for her to be in the room, but Kolton had been insistent, telling her to stand by the door. At the time she had though he was being paranoid, but apparently he had been being devious.

“This is what you were arguing about?” She queried, not entirely believing their insinuation.

“Yes.” Grand Minister Bhenod replied. “As I said, this plan has been in place for some time.”

Arielle sat back in the chair again. She sat for several minutes staring at the papers strewn across the table, trying not to eye the dark spot that was growing on the bag which was also there. All her life she had wanted to be a beacon of hope to her fellow half-elves living in Pelon. She had become a Keeper, a city guard, to achieve that goal. Circumstances had eventually led to the then prince of Pelon, Kolton, to convince his father to change the law to allow her, and other half-elves, into the Raven Guard, the elite guards who served the royal family directly.

Now, she was presented with not only the opportunity to go beyond that achievement, she was being presented the throne of a powerful kingdom. The throne of a kingdom that had done its best to belittle and demean people like her. She was being given the ultimate chance to embody the hope she had always desired to be. It would be a fight, inside and outside, and while she did not know enough of her father and his kingdom to strongly desire vengeance for him, she could not let Kolton’s progress be in vain.

“Damn him.” She sighed, once again running a hand over her face. She looked back at the three men, “ Who has a pen and ink?”

Untitled Star Wars 2

Author's Note:

     This is a very rough series of scene-shots. I apologize in advance to any hard-core Star Wars fans who may read it and find canonical and technical errors and misconceptions in it (especially regarding the Jedi and the Force). I am a big  fan of Star Wars, but have not been able to express that love for some time (a long story that does not have a place here) and this has led to a lack of knowledge about much outside of the movies. As with most of my scene-shots it is mostly un-edited, nor did I do any research for it. In light of that, please forgive the lack of planet names and other species. I simply wrote what came to me based on what I already know. Also, it is not intended to have any relation or bearing to the current or previous cannon. It simply occurs in the same GFFA. Thank you for your understanding, and may the Force be with you.

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Cast
     Captian Nohrann- Zabrak
    Un-named Padwan - Human 
    Skippy- Twi'lek

     Captain Nohrann stared at the figure lying on the bed and finally understood the human phrase "déjà vu." The scene reminded him of the first time he and the former Padawan had met.
     Seven years ago, he and his crew had found the you human female severely injured and hiding among their cargo. While the fact that they had a stowaway was a surprise, the fact that that the stowaway was a Jedi was even more so.
     Only a few days before, Supreme Chancellor Palpatine, now Emporer Palpatine, had declared the Jedi to be traitors. Any sightings were to be reported immediately. However, Nohrann and his crew had never reported her and had instead gave her some much needed medical assistance and sanctuary.
     Later, when she had asked why, Norhrann told her that a Jedi had saved his life years earlier. When asked how he could repay him, the Jedi told him that he could do so by someday helping a Jedi who needed it. The captain hadn't seen a Jedi until he had found her in his cargo hold.
     With the captain and the rest of the crew willing to keep her secret, the girl joined the crew of the Star Sprite. Over the next few years she had slowly changed. Her demeanor was less reserved and she often filled the ship with laughter. She had traded her Jedi robes for clothes more suited for her new identity. Her hair, which had always been bound up, was left to grow free and was now a mass of curls. While she had not been able to bring herself to cut off her Padawan braid, she had added similar braids so it was no longer obvious.
     She had also traded her lightsaber for two blasters. The lightsaber, along with a Clone Tropper helmet were always locked away in her cabin. She still practiced with it, but only when there were no passengers on the ship. Her real name and the reason she had the helmet were two things neither Nohrahnn nor his crew had ever asked her about.
     She had proven herself to be a capable crew member and a good friend. Nohrahnn knew she had nightmares and struggled with the loss of what had been her only family, even though she hid it well. He also knew it was a struggle for her to be unable to use and rely on the Force, the ever-present power she and so few others now had access to. It was this particular struggle that had put them in their current predicament.
     While working a job on (Planet), which was heavily infested with Imperial troops, she and several other had been caught in an explosion. She had saved the others by using the Force to push them out of the blast radius. She, however, had taken the brunt of the blast. A family who child had been among those saved offered them a place to hide for awhile. She now lay in a spare room with a broken leg, cracked ribs, several burns, and possibly a concussion and internal bleeding.
     Her heroics had saved lives, but had also alerted to the local Imps to the presence of a "Force-sensitive" and possible Jedi survivor. He and his crew were now trapped on (Planet). They were unable to reach their ship, and taking her to a med-center was not an option.
    One of his crew, a Twi'lek nicknamed Skippy, had been a medic during the Clone Wars. He had done what he could for her, but she was still in a lot of pain. What made it worse, for her at least, was the that she was unable to use the Force to hasten her healing. She would have to rely solely on her fellow crew members and her body's natural healing rate.
     Furthermore, they still had a job that needed finishing.

To Save a Town 1

"I'm sorry, Corin." she whispered, sending a telepathic burst of regret to him as she hit him on back of the head. She caught him as he slumped to the ground, lowering him gently. He would never forgive her for this; but it couldn't be helped. She couldn't let a whole town be punished for something it hadn't even known it had done.

"Soroya!" their friend Mark cried in a whisper, "What are you doing?!" He knelt to check her brother's pulse.

"Mark, I need you to stay here with him." she answered. "I'm going to turn myself in."

"What?! Are you crazy?!" Mark replied, almost shouting, as he stood and faced her. "They'll send you to the camps, if they don't kill you."

"Mark," she said, grasping his shoulders. "listen to me. I am aware of what will happen, but I can't let all those people suffer for something they haven't technically done. Nothing you can say will change my mind. I'm going to tell them that Corin is dead. I know it will be hard, but you cannot let him come after me. He has to stay free. He is more important than he knows. Do you understand? He cannot be captured too."

Mark, who had been looking at her in the beginning, glanced away when she asked if he understood. He stared at her brother for a minute, and then sighed. "Yes. I understand."

"Thank you." she whispered as she wrapped him in a hug. He returned it and it lasted for a few seconds. Then, she pulled away and stepped back. She gave him a small smile and then pushed into the air, topping the buildings surrounding them in a matter of seconds.

Mark watched her fly, and then sat down beside the unconscious Corin. He was going to be infuriated when he woke up. How did she expect him, a mere human, to hold back someone who was essentially Superman?

A Heavy Choice

I stared at the list of names. All of these people, every single one, was a stranger. Most importantly, every single one was dead; and they were dead because of me. I was my fault, and yet.... it wasn't. I'd had decision to make. No matter what I did, people were going to die. The question had been, "How many?" I tried not to make the decision, be all "smart-alek" and going with "no one;" but people had died anyway. The one forcing the decision on me had reminded me that the question was "How many? Would it be a  small handful of unknown, but no less important, people? Or, a larger group, who's size was the equivalent of a small nation? How many people would die?" Finally, I chose. Heaven help me, I chose. "The needs of the many..." and all that. What else was I supposed to do? Let a millions of people die, or only a couple hundred? I am not proud of my choice, but I wouldn't change it. The decision was made, and I have to live with it. You judge me, but if the choice had been yours, what would you have done?

Insubordination

"That's still not an excuse for her behavior."

"What behavior, sir? She did what was needed and saved lives."

"She disrespected a superior officer, disobeyed a direct order from said superior officer, assaulted an unarmed civilian, blew up a building thereby endangering civilian lives, and freed a criminal from custody."

"That's one way of looking at it, yes sir."

"One way of looking at it?! What in heavens man! How else should her actions be looked at?"

"Well, the criminal she freed was a wrongly accused man who was instrumental in today's success, for it was a success mind you. The building she blew up was an enemy stronghold that was more of a danger the lives of those civilians if left standing that it was being blown up. The unarmed civilian was an assassin sent to kill our Council Leader. Sir."

"What about her disrespect and disobedience of a superior?"

"Since you asked, sir, if the superior had been so superior, he would have taken her actions himself instead of leaving them to be carried out by a junior officer."

An Enemy's Last Request

He shuffled nervously before the door, contemplating knocking or just leaving the package on the doorstep. He had seen war and destruction. He was a soldier. But standing here, about to apologize for a man's death had him more jittery than his first day in battle.

Finally, he knocked. After a few tense moments, he heard a shuffling behind the door. It opened only a crack.

"Can I help you, sir?" a quiet voice asked.

"I believe so, yes mam... are you Mrs. Chyng?" he asked.

"Yes." she replied hesitantly, "I don't want any trouble."

"It's no trouble. I knew your husband."

She stared at him in shock. "My husband? But you're...."

"I know. I'm the enemy. That doesn't matter. Your husband saved my life. As he was dying he asked me to bring you this package; and I said I would."

An "Oh."escaped her lips in a quiet gasp. A moment later she asked, "Would you like to come in for some tea?"

He smiled. "Thank you. I would like that."

A Change of Heart

"Well, what can I say. Love changes people."

"Love?! You, a self-proclaimed 'scoundrel and bachelor'? You think you're in love?"

"Yeah, I do. So what?"


"This is hilarious! Does she know what you do? What you used to do? Does she have any idea who you really are?"

.........

"I'll take your silence as a resounding, 'no'. Why haven't you told her? Are you afraid of what she'll say or of what she'll do?"

"Both."

"I see. So, you believe, in that tiny little lovesick brain of yours, that if you sacrifice yourself she'll see you for who you want her to believe you are; that she'll never have to know that you are everything she hates and despises. You also believe that even if she finds out that she will still 'love' you, provided you sacrifice yourself first. That sound about right?"

"More or less. Can we get this over with?"

 "Why? You in a hurry to die? Because that's what the deal was. One of you sacrifices themselves and the others go free."

"I know what the deal was."

"No pleading? No 'last minute deals'?"

"No."

"Would you like to write a farewell letter for her to cherish when you're gone?"

"No."

"Very well then. As soon as your hearts stops your friends are free to go."

It's Not the End

He closed his eyes and lay still.

The fight had lasted two, maybe three minutes, but it had seemed to go on forever. Guns were fired, knives had been drawn, and punches were thrown. There were many times that he thought the fight would end then and there, only for it to be drawn out. Eventually, however, it was over. He didn't swagger away like the guys in the movies. He was on the ground, gasping for breath, every inch in pain. After a moment, he took a deep breath, held it, and slowly let it out. Then, groaning, he staggered to his feet and walked away. Fighting six (or was it seven?) guys was exhausting.

Flowers for His Grave

I remove the dead flowers in the vase and replaced them with fresh ones, daisies this time. I stand up and stare at them, framing the gravestone. My friends always ask my why I bother with the flowers, the man had been my enemy after all. I can't really say why. It's a compulsion. The man had no family and no friends to miss him. I was probably the closest thing to a "friend" he'd had, and all we had done was fight and argue. He hadn't always been that way. Our research shows that he'd had a family once, and friends too; but in one sweep, tragedy took that all away and he had let the bitterness it brought fester. By the time I met him, all that he had been was gone. He had wanted nothing but to destroy the world that had hurt him and taken all that was dear to him. It had been my job to stop him. I didn't hate him, and I don't really believe he hated me personally. I was simply standing in his way. He would have done the same to anyone who had opposed him. He had been right about some things- the unfairness of the world, the cruelty of man, etc- but his methods for dealing with them were wrong. I guess I feel sorry for him. It saddens me that no one is around to miss him for who he was; that the only people who remember him are those who were hurt or destroyed by him. In my mind, I'm not leaving the flowers for the man I killed, I'm leaving them for the man who was hurt by life and had died before I met him.