The Soul

"Omega, it's Hera. You have to come back to Ryloth."

"Isn't she the kid from the weapons drop?"

"Hera?"

"The Empire's taken my parents, and they're after me now too. I'm sending coordinates. Please hurry. I need your help."

"You gave her our comm channel?"

"For emergencies, and that sounded pretty urgent. We have to go."

"Perhaps the situation is not as dire as described. Children often overreact."

"No, we don't. You heard her. She needs us."

"Omega, it's a big galaxy. We can't put ourselves on the line every time someone's in trouble."

"Why not? Isn't that what soldiers do?"

~

Chatting in the comments, the other day I pointed out how in all the SW series or movies the writers always grace us with inspiring kind, open and compassionate characters. Someone very nicely called them "The Soul" of their respective group of heroes. And indeed they are.

Rey, Eli, Luke, Ahsoka are always ready to help, up to risk it all for giving others support and understanding.

Omega is nothing less.

She is strong-willed, kind, optimistic.

She can find the perfect words to convince grew-up rough and powerful men to jeopardize their lives to assist random strangers (or even creatures!), just based on the simple idea that "it is the right thing to do".

Just because "WHY NOT?"

So, I want to learn from her.

The next time I will feel lazy or that it costs me too much to reach out, next time I will be afraid of not making any difference, protected by my being a passive bystander, I will think to Omega.

"WHY NOT?"

[PS. Similar to this attitude, but more specifically applied in the context of preventing violence, the "Green Dot Bystander Intervention" is built on the premise that power-based violence can be measurably and systematically reduced within a community. If you never heard about this before, I do suggest checking wiki, because it is really a simple concept, but it can change lives]

[Photo: Target Exclusive Omega Funko Pop, (tiny) Lula by SpookySweet on Etsy, and Shopdisney Wrecker (huge) mug]

Lieutenant Commander Vanto

“We are met this morning,” she said “to pay special honor to two of our own”

Eli blinked. So this wasn’t another inquiry board or court-martial? Eli felt a whisper of relief, mixed with a hint of melancholy. So that was it. Thrawn had been called back to receive yet another promotion. Not that Eli begrudged him the recognition. On the contrary, he more than deserved it. Eli smiled and tried to look happy—which he was, really—as he joined in the applause.

“It is also an honor and privilege” the admiral continued “for this board to rectify a situation that has too long been allowed to stand”

Eli frowned, thoughts of lists and supply manifests vanishing.

“It is therefore with equal pleasure that this board confers upon Ensign Eli Vanto—”

Eli caught his breath. It was happening. It was finally happening. After all this time, they were finally promoting him to lieutenant.

“—the rank—”

Lieutenant Vanto. Lieutenant Vanto…

“—of lieutenant commander” the admiral finished.

Eli felt his whole body stiffen.

“Congratulations” Thrawn repeated from beside him.

“Congratulations, Commodore” Tarkin said, nodding to Thrawn. “And to you, Lieutenant Commander. A fine ceremony” Tarkin continued. “I’m glad I stopped by. Governor Arihnda Pryce sends her regards and her own congratulations”

“I wondered if she might,” Thrawn said. There was, Eli noted, a hint of something in his voice. Some kind of private joke between him and Tarkin? Tarkin reached forward and touched the new commodore’s insignia plaque on Thrawn’s chest. “Consider this a bonus”

“And now, we’d best get to our new ship.”

Eli frowned. “Our new ship?”

Thrawn turned, a half-amused, half-knowing smile on his face. “I see you were not paying attention at the end. I thought not. We’re being transferred, Commander. I am now the captain of the ISD Chimaera. Shall we go?”

“Yes, sir... What did Grand Moff Tarkin mean by your promotion being a bonus?” Eli asked.

“I think it was merely a joke”

~

Selling your soul to the devil so as to see your 'aide' deliriously happy.

[And he doesn't even know]

Surely, a villain thing. 🙃

[All my love to @lucenorthstar, who realized this sweet masterpiece for me. Original idea: @anna_thegodkiller]

Soul(e)less

The Rising Storm.

If up to page 300 I was still thinking it was a nice book overall, the last 100 pages or so, completely ruined it for me.

I actually enjoyed more the first half than the second. And I didn't love the first much.

It was cheap and banal and, to be honest, not even at the level of a medium SW book, that, in a way, always gives me some depth and some interesting reflections.

No time for pondering and understanding.

Just putting there more plot for the sake of... What? Making people commenting?

What about the premises?

Soh's son and Jom? Filling. Zero depth, zero reasons to be there. Wasn't it a story that needed to be told? Probably yes, and I was all for it.

But it wasn't. Everything felt so superficial. I felt everyone so... whatever.

Elzar, the post-sex dialogue with the organizer. Useless. Left me nothing, in a direction or another. Not because it wasn't a meaningful love act, but because, when she said it wasn't (thankfully), he didn't REALLY pound the thing, not in a way (you-are-right-we-are-fine) or another (OMG-what-I-have-done).

Even Elzar and Ty. After the connection and all, not a minute to stay there and think and discuss what they shared. Nothing.

In my opinion, the book should have ended with them reflecting on everything that happened, everything they experienced.

So that they could be better, grow, learn.

Was there the need to make things happening for the sake of a new wave? Everything felt so rushed and superficial.

No real sentiment.

And the kid that walks with the plush? Please. That is NOT the way I can personally feel moved. I can relate more to the millions of people who blew up on the Death Star. Twice. It would be effective if we really mourned. I did not.

Marchion, sociopath as usual, fine. But written so more two-dimensionally.

I hoped that Older would write him in the third wave (but, nope). I love Gray, and I am excited for her Ro, but Older is giving me such a complex Marchion in the Adventures comics.

Here, he was saved just by Marc Thompson's interpretation of the character, not for the actions or thoughts themselves.

The double twist at the end was boring and unnecessary (dark Elzar and girl revealed the little evil mastermind).

And I don't even start about Loden. It was like they couldn't make anyone else die, but they wanted to kill someone for the sake of the tragedy, so they killed the only fun Jedi. Boom. Dead. AGAIN.

Seriously... No.

I respect whoever liked it. But I really didn't.

The style was good, but the plot was in any way *meaningful*.

Also, despite my underlining, a very big lack of those quotes that normally stay with me. This was unexpected. I generally find decent passages even in really TERRIBLE books, like "Heir of the Jedi" or "Ahsoka".

Not a lot here. Or at all (but I need to re-read my notes).

Sure. In the realm of bad SW books, this one is a good exercise of style. At least is well written. But, for me, it lacked character and SOUL more than everything. It could have so many things to analyze more and think more about.

Also, I must admit that reading this one just after Episode 2 novelization made everything worse.

Because in that one there is so much reflection. So many thoughts and internal monologues and POVs. So that it fills apparently plain scenes in the movie with so much more content, more feelings, more depth.

Here is the opposite. There is so much to discuss. The dark side, the temptation, the revenge, the sex. But they never stop a second for thinking REALLY about any of it. Just superficially.

I understand that during the battle wasn't a good time, sure. But they never really do.

At this point at least I hope that Gray will pause and reflect. But, in my opinion, it was a task for this (second) book not the last of the wave.

Fortunately, I still have a ton to discuss in my posts about LOTJ, and also about the Adventures comics, and Into the Dark (which is my second favorite of THR at this point), so I can skip commenting on this one completely.

Soul(e)less.

Conflicted

“It was Snoke.”

Han drew back slightly. “Snoke? [.] You knew this from the beginning? Why didn’t you tell me?”

She sighed. “Many reasons. I was hoping that I was wrong, that it wasn’t true. I hoped I could sway him, turn him away from the dark side, without having to involve you.”

He had trouble believing what he was hearing. “So Snoke was watching our son.”

“Always,” she told him. “From the shadows, in the beginning, even before I realized what was happening, he was manipulating everything, pulling our son toward the dark side.

~

“At last,” came a voice, and Ren whirled, seeking its source. It was raspy and half mechanized, straining as though in pain, and yet the sound reverberated within his very being. “Snoke trained you well,” the voice said. Kylo knew that voice. He’d heard it his whole life. As a young man it had been like the wisp of a dream, one he couldn’t quite grasp. Then the Emperor’s transmission had flooded the galaxy, and Kylo had begun to dread that Palpatine had somehow survived, that his had been the whispering voice that had comforted, guided, tormented him for so many years.

“I killed Snoke,” Kylo said. “I’ll kill you.”

“My boy, I made Snoke. I have been every voice you have ever heard inside your head.” He spoke slowly, deliberately, the timbre of his voice morphing, becoming first Snoke, then Vader, and settling on Palpatine. “I have been your Master all along.”

~

Snoke had lied about that. Snoke had lied about all of it. All those voices in his head, torturing him throughout the years, they had promised him that a moment like this could never happen.

*They don’t care about you. Just their precious New Republic*.

And later, *Just their precious Resistance*.

All lies.

~

Kylo like Anakin.

Engineered to suffer.

Twisted and tortured by the supreme manipulator.

Torn apart, their minds and souls bleeding for thirty, forty years.

Sure, it would be reductive to claim they had absolutely no choice.

That they did not play any part.

But when you are abused over and over, all the barriers fall, the will bends.

There is no line, there is no limit.

[Photo: absolutely superb @ritarussiandoll_pins, design by @yanh_hyung]

The sweet loot

"Now, everybody, just try to keep an open mind about this, okay?"

"Is there something you're not telling us about this job with Hondo?"

"Come on. When have I asked you to trust me and it hasn't worked out?"

"Like half the time."

"My friends, my friends! It is I, Hondo! I can't tell you how much your welcome warms this old pirate's heart. You are too gracious."

"I agree. Especially since the last time we saw you, you abandoned us on that doomed Imperial station!"

"But it all worked out in the end, right? Of course it did, because Hondo always delivers. [] Now, remember, guys, okay? Open mind." []

"Azmorigan? What makes you think we'd even consider working with him?"

"Yes, I... I know that the two of you have had your past conflagrations, but when Hondo profits, so do you."

~

“Does this mean I am not getting my finder’s fee?”

“You never were.”

“Perfect answer. I am so proud of you right now. I’ve never had a student learn this quickly.”

~

I already discussed here my total adoration for pirates.

Movies, books, tv shows.

I truly have a fascination for ALL. OF. THEM.

Easily guessed, then, Hondo Ohnaka is one of my absolute favorite SW characters.

He is witty, irreverent, tragically optimistic.

Every dialogue, it's a quotable gem.

A Sorkin-level masterpiece.

So, obviously, when this Target exclusive was released last Fall, I started looking for it. Unfortunately, the action figure was just available in stores, and, in blooming pandemic, I was barred at home.

Some lovely people looked around for me, but nothing was found at a decent price. As said already, I just don't condone paying three or four times the price of a figure just because scalpers are buying all the ones available (and not because they are actually "rare").

Therefore, with my Cad Bane and CW Ahsoka (which also took forever to arrive), it was my "grail" for months. Until, finally, Target decided to issue it again a week ago, and I snagged it the second it went online.

So don't be surprised if, as with other treasured Black Series of mine, I feature first a post with the precious box, even if, ultimately, I'm an opener.

A celebration for the sweet loot.

Tatooine Chic

"It was a vast, shining globe and it cast a light of lambent topaz into space—but it was not a sun. Thus, the planet had fooled men for a long time. Not until entering close orbit around it did its discoverers realize that this was a world in a binary system and not a third sun itself.

At first it seemed certain nothing could exist on such a planet, least of all humans. Yet both massive G1 and G2 stars orbited a common center with peculiar regularity, and Tatooine circled them far enough out to permit the development of a rather stable, if exquisitely hot, climate. Mostly this was a dry desert of a world, whose unusual starlike yellow glow was the result of double sunlight striking sodium-rich sands and flats. []

It was an old settlers' saying that you could burn your eyes out faster by staring straight and hard at the sun-scorched flatlands of Tatooine than by looking directly at its two huge suns themselves, so powerful was the penetrating glare reflected from those endless wastes."

-George Lucas/Alan Dean Foster, "Star Wars: From the Adventures of Luke Skywalker"

~

"In December 1976, Ballantine Books published a paperback novel called <Star Wars: From the Adventures of Luke Skywalker>. The book was ghostwritten by Alan Dean Foster from my screenplay of the film. The cover painting was a piece of early conceptual art by Ralph McQuarrie. In small type on the back cover were the words <Soon to be a spectacular motion picture from Twentieth Century Fox>. The world's first glimpse of Star Wars happened with little fanfare, and this first edition of the novel sold modestly."

George Lucas

~

We always thought about Tatooine as pretty much the middle of nowhere.

But with the presence of the Hutts, so, a conspicuous amount of money flowing, and the opportunity of many (shady) jobs paid well, its cantinas and its gambling, it is hard to not imagine some forms of rich and, in a way, classy subculture for it.

So, when I saw this beautiful tote bag by @afanofshop, my imagination was filled with a Rodeo-Drive-sorta Mos Espa district, and I couldn't help but having myself a glimpse of that "smuggler-posh" flair.

Be a fool

"Sounds intriguing,” Eli said. "Which leads to the obvious question: Why me?"

"One might just as well ask why not you?"

He could take Moff Ghadi up on his offer and command his own ship. It was the opportunity of a lifetime.

"For a Wild Space person like yourself, the Inner Rim is an incredible move upward"

"I see” Eli said, a trickle of anger tugging at him. He'd seen plenty of superiority and disdain from the Core cadets at the Royal Imperial Academy, but he'd never thought he would hear that same prejudice from a senior government official. "Tell me, why exactly have I been singled out for this honor? It's because of Thrawn, isn't it?"

"There are a few of us who aren't pleased by all the attention the alien is getting. His actions cost the Empire hundreds of thousands of credits' worth of lost tibanna gas"

"He also rescued the freighter crew"

"Three of whom were aliens"

Eli felt his skin prickle. "What difference does that make?"

"Do you really not understand? The Empire's priority was to retrieve the tibanna. That was what was valuable. That was what a good Imperial officer should have focused on. Instead, he risked the lives of you and the other Blood Crow crew to rescue some aliens"

So there it was. He was nothing more than a tool with which Ghadi and his friends hoped to topple the non-elite, nonhuman threat to their comfortable little universe. "Please thank Moff Ghadi for his offer. But I'm happy right where I am"

"Then you're a fool. He will go down someday. Even with you there to smooth the political path for him. Good day, Ensign. And if I were you, I'd get comfortable with that title. You'll be holding it for quite some time"

Eli watched her go, the emotional tangle emerging again as the disgust receded.

"You are disturbed." Thrawn's voice came from behind him.

"I'm fine” Eli growled.

"What did she want from you?"

"She was offering me a job,” Eli said shortly. "I assume you picked up my orders while you were at it?"

"Yes." Thrawn held out a data card.

"With no promotion"

"No,” Thrawn said. Thrawn was silent a moment. "This job you were offered. Was it better than the one the navy has assigned you?"

Captain of his own ship... "No” he said. "Not really"

The choice not given

"So, what do you want?"

"To offer you a choice. You can keep the lightsaber you stole, let it become just another dusty souvenir. Or you can give it back and come with us, come with me and be trained in the ways of the Force. You can learn what it truly means to be a Jedi."

~

"I’m not sure," Qui-Gon said, "how much of a privilege it is to have one's entire future predetermined—in this case, by an accident of birth." []

"It matters what that future is, doesn't it? Fanry was born a princess. That's a privilege."

"It’s still something chosen for her," Qui-Gon insisted. "Not what she herself chose." []

"You weren't talking about the princess at all, were you?" [] Pax's stare was fixed on Qui-Gon. "You were talking about yourself. Because it's not a choice for Jedi, either, is it? I mean, supposedly they allow you to leave, make your own decisions, blah blah blah, but they steal you when you're babies and train your minds thereafter. What kind of freedom is that?"

Obi-Wan looked like he'd swallowed a gundark. "Being a Jedi is an honor. A responsibility. A—a noble calling—"

"Yes, Padawan," Qui-Gon said quietly. "It's all those things. But it's very hard for most of us to determine whether we chose it freely, being raised as we were. That said, I did have a choice. Dooku helped me to see that. And I chose the Order."

~

"You must learn the ways of the Force if you're to come with me to Alderaan."

"Alderaan? I'm not going to Alderaan. I've got to go home. [] I can't get involved! I've got work to do!" []

"You must do what you feel is right, of course."

~

The habit of snatching infants from their parents' arms wasn't the Order's best-winning move, especially because absolutely unnecessary.

Luke and Ezra started their training very late in their lives. But, despite dark side temptations and all —Ezra even followed the instructions of a Sith Holocron, for almost six months— they turned out pretty balanced humans and Jedi, surrounded, as they were, by adoring friends and family. And that, if you ask me, because they were given an actual choice.

Carbonized relatives aside, of course.

[Photo: Qui-Gon and Kanan Funko. Background: "Age of The Republic: Qui-Gon Jinn"]

The Gift

"This is Uingali," the spokesman said as the Pacc stopped in front of Thrawn. "He has something he wishes to give you." []

A moment later he’d slid a double ring off two of the fingers, the twin circlets connected by a short, flexible mesh. Another moment of hesitation, and he held the double ring toward Thrawn. "Uingali foar Marocsaa," he said.

"The double ring is a prized heirloom of the Marocsaa subclan," the spokesman said quietly. "Uingali wishes you to take it and add it to your artwork, that the subclan and the Marocsaa people will not be forgotten."

For the first time since Thalias had met him, Thrawn seemed genuinely surprised. He looked at Uingali, then at the rings, then at Uingali again. Then, he held out his hand, palm upward. "Thank you," he said. "I will guard it in a place of honor."

Uingali lowered his head in a bow as he placed the double ring in Thrawn’s hand. [] It was made of a silvery metal, with a series of curved arcs embossed on the base. A cluster of what looked like small snakes rose from the center of the arcs, flanked by two much larger snakes that curved up and around, crossing each other once and ending with their heads and open mouths pointed defiantly upward.

~

"What is your purpose here?"

"To assure ourselves that the Paccosh have regained the peace that was stolen from them by the Nikardun," Thrawn said. [] "And to return this to its rightful owner."

"What’s he holding?" Laknym muttered.

"It’s a ring," Thalias told him. "One of the Paccosh we met on the mining station gave it to him for safekeeping."

"And the name of that owner?" the Taarja words came.

"Uingali foar Marocsaa," Thrawn said. []

"Follow us, Chiss Senior Captain Thrawn. My people are eager to meet you."

On the display the frigate’s bow angled up as it began a pitch turn. Thalias felt her mouth drop open. Emblazoned on the underside of the Nikardun frigate was a familiar image: a nest of small stylized snakes with two larger ones curving up from among them. The same image as the ring Thrawn was still holding to the cam.

[Photo: the stunning Chimaera embroidered canvas by the skillful @snipsandco_, and the beautiful pin by @lanternpins]

When We Were Young

"Excuse me!" He couldn't see the speaker's face, but the voice was female, almost melodic. "Where can I find the repulsorlift entrance to Moonglow?" []

He was trying to process the voice, so warm and polite []. It startled him so much that he could only manage: "Huh?"

"Never mind," the figure said primly. "I'll find it myself."

With a whirl of her cloak, she headed off in the opposite direction.

Kanan, who had no mission in life, now found himself with one: seeing who it was that could be attached to a voice like that.

~

He found himself looking into her eyes.

"Ah," she said, seeing her cloak.

"Ah," he repeated. Kanan stood frozen, studying her under the bright light of the moon. She was shorter than he was, with deep green skin, full lips, and a chin that came to a pleasing point.

"I knew I'd forgotten something," she said, removing the garment from his hands so deftly he barely noticed she'd done it. Then she looked at him with concern. "You okay there?"

Kanan nodded.

"You speak basic?"

"Words fail me."

She smiled. "So they do." []

He looked back, "That was something back there."

"Yes," she said, still talking in that wonderful voice as she flicked mud from the cloak. "It's a good thing I was here to save you." [] Seeing him look back at her, slack-jawed, she bumped a gloved fist underneath his bruised chin. "You did pretty good though. I am impressed." [] He blinked as she pulled her hand back. [] "I have stops to make."

"Wait!" Kanan tried to follow, but his body rebelled. Wincing, he grabbed at his knee. When he looked up, she was gone again. Disgusted with the universe, he yelled into Gorse's endless night. "What's your name?"

For a long moment, nothing.

And then that voice again, calling back to him.

"Hera."

~

"What a woman. She was wearing a hood when I first saw her. But her eyes are *amazing*. And she's got moves. I'm telling you, Oke, if she were to walk in here right now—" []

[A voice came] from the far end of the bar. *The voice*. Kanan decided to play it cool, as he turned.

*They always seek you out, brother*.

"Hey there, Hera," he said, smiling confidently. "What can I get you?"

~

[Photo: a @lorna_ka Kanera pin masterpiece]

Give me the fluff!

Thrawn took the datapad, and for a moment he studied the numbers in silence. Faro watched him, wondering if, like her, he was thinking that Commander Eli Vanto might have been able to dig something out of the seemingly random times, dates, and comm frequencies she’d collected. Vanto had been gifted at such things.

But Vanto was gone, disappeared without a trace one day from the Chimaera. [.]

Faro had asked Thrawn about it at the time. The grand admiral’s response had been polite enough, but Faro had left the conversation with the clear understanding that she was never to ask that question again.

Privately, given the fondness Thrawn had had for the young man and the master–pupil relationship they’d shared as Thrawn nurtured Vanto’s career, Faro was pretty sure Vanto was dead. She could think of no other reason for him to have left the Chimaera.

~

"Hold it," Ronan said, shooting a look at Vanto. The younger man was standing silently to the side. "He can’t go aboard an Imperial ship. Not with a charge of desertion hanging over him."

"Consider him to be on loan from Admiral Ar’alani," Thrawn said. "I need his expertise with numbers and data." [.]

"Absolutely not," Ronan said flatly, a surge of anger and betrayal flooding through him. "I categorically forbid you to allow him access. [.] I will not see sensitive Imperial data put into the hands of a—" He looked again at Vanto, who seemed to be making a valiant effort to stay as invisible and unobtrusive as possible. "—of a traitor."

"Then you are a fool," Thrawn said.

Ronan snapped his glare back to the grand admiral. "What did you call me?"

"I called you a fool," Thrawn repeated. For the first time, there was a fleeting glimpse of actual anger in his voice.

~

Let this sink in for a second.

If someone like *Thrawn* needs you for understanding patterns and data and numbers, you should TRUUUULY be damn good at it.

Also: Thrawn *visibly* mad because Ronon insulted Eli is A DO RA BLE.

[Photos: this @ritarussiandoll_pins pin, based on a design by @junchan_nyan_art is pure fluff bliss.

And, damn, I LOVE fluff.]

Perspectives

"My mother once told me about a band of mercenaries that came to a peaceful planet.

They had a resource there these men coveted, so they took it.

They kept coming back, taking more.

Until finally, the people resisted.

When they returned demanding their tribute, the people shouted back in one voice, "No more!".

The mercenaries didn't like the sound of that, so they cut off the tongue of every last man, woman, and child.

Do you know what that pack of animals became?

Crimson Dawn and the rest of the five Syndicates have committed unspeakable crimes across the galaxy.

Each of our worlds has been brutalized by the Syndicates.

Crimson Dawn will use their profits from the coaxium you stole to tyrannize system after system in league with the Empire."

"And what would you use it for?"

"The same thing my mother would have used it for if she had survived and still wore the mask.

To fight back.

We're not marauders.

We're allies.

And the war has just begun."

So.

If I tell you "masked marauders who really don't want to be told how to live their lives", who are you thinking of?

Yep. Me too.

The Nihil.

And if you think "ok, but there is a difference between a band of murderers lead by a total sociopath, and an alliance of rebels who fight abuse", I undoubtedly tend to agree with you.

Where is the line, though?

If you are a thief, your way of life is to plunder.

If the Republic arrives with its rules and order, you are, perhaps, not thrilled by the idea.

Nevertheless, if you ask me, there *IS* a difference.

It's just that, sometimes, you don't know to which group you belong.

So, you think to fight for "your freedom", for "keeping society -or fandom- as you know it", for "your traditions". And, instead, you just end up writing 124 hate comments under a Martez sisters Monday poster instigated by a bunch of idiots who aren't even as handsome as Marchion Ro.

~

Ps. Enfys Nest is one of the most promising characters of SW, and I truly hope to see or read about her again, one day.

My Sassy Girl

"Very good, Commodore," Ar'alani said. "You’re strong and confident. Mitth’raw’nuruodo chose well."

"Thank you," Faro said. "Though in all fairness, my appointment to the Chimaera came from the Imperial Navy High Command, not Admiral Thrawn himself."

"I wasn’t referring to your position," Ar’alani said, "but rather to his choice of protégée. I have nothing but respect for Mitth’raw’nuruodo’s abilities. I disagree with his choice of position." Another half smile. "Unlike yours, he has chosen his."

"You mean his service with the Empire?"

"Yes." Ar’alani half turned to gaze out the forward viewport. "There are grave threats facing the Ascendancy. The Grysks and their clients, predominantly, but others as well. We need him to lend his name and his history to our cause. But so far he refuses." She turned back to Faro. "Is his life here truly so much better?"

Faro thought about Batonn, and the mission the Emperor had sent him on with Lord Vader, and his position in the current power struggle between Grand Moff Tarkin and Director Krennic.

"His life here is precarious," she told Ar’alani. "But this is apparently where he thinks he can best serve all of us. Including the Ascendancy."

Precise, efficient, confident but also creative, witty, and funny, Karyn Faro is the result of natural leadership skills and brilliant mentoring.

Her respect and affection for Thrawn are endless.

So, even if I already shared several of my most treasured quotes before, I still have many in my bucket.

[You have been warned]

Unfortunately, I do not believe that my beloved Chimaera bridge crew ended too well after Thrawn's disappearance.

Under his command, they were encouraged to think and speak freely, to be asked for their opinions, to express their full potential.

IF they survived (which I doubt) any narrow-minded Imperial Commanding Officer without being court-martialed, jailed, or killed on the spot, they probably deserted after either Aldeeran or Cinder.

Heartbroken.

[Photo: 7th Fleet mug by CubeRider on Teepublic, Faro's stationery by @scifigirlnextdoor, pin by @enamel_empire. The inspiration for Faro owning this pin comes from a fanfic by sunRaven05]

For the record, the message says:

"Boss,

I found these notes after almost 6 months that you disappeared.

Things are not going well here.

Everything is different without you.

It is not my command, it is the Empire.

The Chimaera was so different.

You were different.

I really miss you.

Karyn."

I need Felucia

Averross laughed. "Oh, please. Like you didn't—"

"This isn't about what happened in my past," Qui-Gon said.

"Oh, no? Guess it's about hypocrisy, then."

"There is a difference," Qui-Gon insisted, righteous as ever, "between falling in love and simply giving oneself license to do as one pleases."

"Yeah, there is." Damn, but Averross wished he had that ale around now. " Falling in love— that's what the Jedi Code forbids. Getting laid? Not so much, not if it's casual, like me and Selbie. That doesn't compromise my emotions, doesn't divide my loyalties, anything like that. I might've broken the letter of the law, but not the spirit. On Felucia, you broke the spirit of that law into a dozen pieces."

Qui-Gon tensed. These words cut deep— or the memories did. The latter, Averross figured.

~

"You know, there've always been a few Jedi— let's be honest, more than a few— who see celibacy as an ideal, not a rule."

"I'm coming to believe that we must all interpret the Code for ourselves," Qui-Gon said, "or it ceases to be a living pact and becomes nothing but a prison cell."

~

"I've heard of Force users before," she said. "But why does that make you monks?" []

"We ground ourselves in a spiritual existence and give up individual attachments in order to focus entirely on greater concerns." []

"So, that means no sex."

Should he give her Master Jora's whole speech about the difference between celibacy of the body and true purity of the heart? It was a very long speech. Reath decided to skip it. "Basically."

~

Elzar suspected they were both thinking about the same thing. Shared moments as Padawans, tolerated and understood and even common— but things to be left behind once one ascended to become an adult in the Order. They hadn't discussed those moments, not in a very long time, and never with more an oblique reference, but they were never very far away from the other's mind, especially when they were together.

Those times, many times in the past, seemed very present just then.

~

Nope.

I never get the whole "no-attachment" argument. And I never will.

And, I need that book about Felucia.

Deeply.

[Photo: A wonderful pin by @ritarussiandoll_pins on a design by @petit_croc_ ]

Endure it together

"Well, officially we're not allowed to disrespect aliens" he went on hurriedly. [] "But that's not always what we really do"

"You dislike nonhumans?"

Eli hesitated. How was he supposed to answer that? "There were a lot of different nonhuman groups in the Separatist movement" he said, choosing his words carefully. "The Clone Wars killed a lot of people and devastated whole worlds. There's still a lot of resentment about that, especially among humans. [] Well, that's the perception, anyway. I don't know if it's actually true. [] On top of that, there's a lot of contempt in the Core Worlds toward the people anywhere past the Mid Rim, humans and nonhumans alike. And with me from Wild Space and you from the Unknown Regions, we're about as far into the Sneer Zone as you can get. [] Looks like we're going to be walking on eggshells for the next three months"

Thrawn was silent another few steps. "I assume that is another idiom," he said. "Perhaps it would be better if you did not walk on these eggshells alongside me"

"Yeah, well, you should have thought about that before you asked the Emperor to stick me as your translator," Eli said sourly. "You want to call the Palace and tell them you've changed your mind?"

"I still require your services," Thrawn said. "But you could join the others in expressing your contempt for me"

Eli frowned. "Come again?" []

"You may make it clear to the others that I am no more than an assignment. One, moreover, that you resisted and thoroughly dislike"

"I don’t dislike my assignment" Eli protested, the polite lie automatically coming to his lips. "And I don't dislike you."

"Do you not?" Thrawn countered. "Because of me you were taken from your ship and brought to this Academy, which you fear"

Eli felt something stir inside him. "Who said I was afraid?" he demanded. "I'm not afraid. I'm just not looking forward to spending my last term with a bunch of Core World snobs, that's all."

"I am glad to hear that," Thrawn said gravely. "We shall endure it together."

~

May we have an entire series of books about Eli and Thrawn's tales at the academy?

Waiting for those, masterpieces like this commission by @junchan_nyan_art will fill my heart and soul.

PS. Someone said watching this (and it is perfect) "I imagine that Eli made a clever observation, and Thrawn is looking at him impressed, almost like someone does when they are falling in love or learning to love someone".

Love is a dagger

"Love is a dagger. It's a weapon to be wielded far away or up close. You can see yourself in it. It's beautiful until it makes you bleed. But ultimately when you reach for it... it isn't real."

Loki's probably very unfortunate love experiences are summed in this utterly sad metaphor.

The truth is that he was loved by many people: his adoptive mother and father, his brother, his friends. But, as a fragile emo villain, he is too focused on his false loves than the solid ones.

This is very human, to be honest.

So many times we stubbornly obsess over the person we do not have, the affection we did not conquer, instead of observing all the people that are around us, cheering for us, loving us.

I guess we improve a little with age, but this "sentimental blindness" never truly goes away, with us keep trying to reach what we don't possess, instead of being serene with what we do.

Ultimately, I personally think that a certain pull towards what we really crave is positive for most (not running aground on situations just because they are "convenient"), but without being so imperceptive to not acknowledge all the wonderful humans we were gifted with.

[Photo: my brand new -super cute- Teeturtle Loki chibi tshirt]

"He thought about it now as he guided his speeder through the streets of Mos Espa. [...] He thought about all the things he would do and places he would go, the adventures he would have and the successes he would enjoy, and the dreams he would see come true. He drove the speeder out from the city under Tatooine's suns, the heat rising off the desert sands in a shimmering wave, the light reflecting off the metal surface of the speeder like white fire."

[The Phantom Menace by Terry Brooks]

Heatwave?

I am sending all my thoughts to the ones of you that live in the Pacific Northwest. Stay hydrated and stay wet, if you can. I won't write a 4000-words-essay about heat transfer involved, but believe me, that helps!

I am lucky enough that Iowa is hot in summer, on average, so we are well equipped with AC. Also, since the large majority of my clothes are HerUniverse Ahsoka-themed sportswear or Star Wars t-shirts (I know, not exactly what you would expect from an old lady but, this is it), I have no problems here.

So, do not underestimate the heat.

Drink a lot of water, embrace the sweating, and don't be like Ezra on Tatooine.

"What else can we do? We have to go forward.

Well, I suppose crossing the sands is a bad idea.

Yes, Chop, especially for droids."

[In the photo, my Her Universe shorts, tank top and water bottle, season seven Funko pops, and my beloved earrings by @geekablycute, which are super lightweight and button type, ideal for sporty activities too]

When we cannot forgive

“What Vader did to you? Do you think that can even begin to compare with what Vader did to me? He made me watch my planet die. He froze Han in carbonite and sold him to Jabba the Hutt. He cut off my brother’s hand and nearly took his life. And he tortured me, Ransolm. He tortured me until I screamed and shook and thought I would die just from the pain alone. Did you bother to ask yourself how it might feel, to realize the person who’d done all that to you was your father? Can you imagine how terrible it is to realize all you’ll ever know of your birth father is how much he enjoyed making you suffer? That’s what I have to live with.”

“He made me suffer in every way a human being can suffer, all for the love of the Emperor.” [.] “I hated him so much,” [.] “Sometimes I felt as if the only thing that kept me going in the aftermath of Alderaan was the strength of my hatred for Vader.”

For my father.

Luke had told her of their father’s last hours. [.] Whenever Luke told the story, a beatific smile lit up his face; his memories of that event gave him a level of comfort and even joy that sustained him. Those were memories Leia couldn’t share.

Her rage could have driven her to kill others—innocents— [.]. She realized, then, something she had never fully understood before. She’d always wondered what had led her father to turn to the dark side, to become Darth Vader. She’d imagined it came from ambition, greed, or some other venal weakness. Never had she considered that the turn might begin in a better place, out of the desire to save someone or to avenge a great wrong. Even if it led to evil, that first impulse might be born of loyalty, a sense of justice, or even love.

Had it been like that for her father? She could never know. But for the first time in a very long while, she had some sense of who Anakin Skywalker might have been before his fall, and of the goodness that must have survived in him through all the darkness, all the years.

~

I know.

Star Wars is about redemption.

But can we forgive those who tortured us for years?

Is it right, even?

[Photo: the stunningly elegant General Organa pin by @sparkofhopepins]

The responsibility of the choice

On the eve of the 4th of July, an important date for this Country that has been hosting me for seven years, I want to wrap this week of rants about choices and change, speaking about freedom.

In the last posts, I discussed how every day, in small and big things, we make decisions. In pandemics, climate, politics.

Preserving what is important, or dismantling the rusty heritage of the past.

In being compassionate, tolerant, kind, accepting, rational.

Even when we decide to do nothing.

We choose.

And our actions or inactions do affect reality.

Sure, the journey is long and tiring, and, often, resisting and rebelling is hard, uncomfortable, and scary.

But we cannot truly celebrate Independence or Freedom today without understanding that the ultimate tribute for them is taking responsibility for our choices.

Especially when our personal freedom is not even spread how our privilege tricks us to believe.

And yes, "where there is great power there is great responsibility".

[this is Winston Churchill in 1906, but I am fine with Peter Parker as well].

I choose this photo today, these elegant earrings by @sanctuarymoonstudio, because Padmé perfectly embodies the aspiration and commitment to do better, to BE better.

While human and imperfect, as every one of us, she tried, for all her life, to be the best version of herself, and to see the best in others too.

"I'm working right now for something I deeply believe in. For something that's important."

"And after this is settled [...] you'll find something else to deeply believe in, something else that's really important. Something that concerns the Republic and the government more than it really concerns you. [...] When are you going to do something just for yourself?"

"I am."

So today, watching the firework, I want to recognize my privilege, I want to celebrate my freedom, and I want to acknowledge that, even in my smallest act, I affect our common future.

Pineapple on pizza

“This is Lieutenant Eli’van’to.” [.]

Eli [.] took a step forward, giving the girl his best smile. “Hello, Navigator Un’hee,” he said. “As First Officer Khresh said, I’m Lieutenant Eli. I understand you wanted to talk to me?”

“Yes,” the girl said, her voice soft and nervous. “Do they also call you Ivant?”

“That’s my core name,” Eli said. “Or it would be if I were a Chiss. Obviously, I’m not. In my culture, my friends and family would call me Eli.”

“Eli,” Un’hee said, frowning. “So just the first part?”

“Yes”

“Strange”

“Some of the things about us are strange,” Eli conceded. “Of course, to us some of the ways of the Chiss are equally strange. But that’s good. Learning about each other’s ways and learning how we’re alike despite our differences is a way to enrich our lives”

~

Used as we are to our own ways of doing things, it's easy to fall into the trap that *ours* are the only *right* ways.

From how many onions we chop into the tomato sauce to how we dress on Sundays, from how an "attractive woman" looks like to kissing on a first date, we tend to flat reality to fit our molds.

Diversity is complicated to handle, and we end up being categoric in our visions, afraid of what is new and unknown.

Curiously, the "right way" is never the same, even if clusters of humans, comforted by alike cultures, think otherwise.

Living in these boxes might be safe, for some.

But always thinking that we know better, do better, constantly pushed by this invisible mandate that we need to teach everyone else how to live their lives is, let's be honest, exhausting.

The start might be frightening, but it reduces to a single, aware choice.

Let it go.

Pineapples will fall on pizza, and women will marry women, and the world will still stand.

Wonder and surprise will still be there, but they will be welcomed, as curiosity and the feeling of learning will inexorably kick in.

Diversities, then, will be seen in amazement and awe, showing the unparalleled richness of human -or alien- experience.

Like a gift.

[Let this wonderful cowboy from the Wild Space guide us in how unpredictable and amazing life can be, if we are open to it.

All my gratitude to @poppourrico ​for this precious Funkopop]