#jasati

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“Was it like that for you?” Jas asks once she’s screwed up enough courage to broach the subject.

“Kind of,” Kira says. “But you said you don’t remember anything.”

“No…” Jas sighs and lays back in her bed. They’re lounging in her quarters, but it’s more like hiding. Everyone’s still raw from the escape from the Emperor’s fortress and wary of their newest companion. “I remember us fighting… losing… and then nothing really.”

“I remember it all,” Kira tells her. “At first, I thought that it was what I wanted. I was choosing this life, but then… I didn’t want to hurt people anymore, but I couldn’t stop. I could feel myself being held down.”

Kira lays down next to Jas and their heads rest against each other. “I think if I meditated on it, I could probably recall it. I think it’s in there, but… I don’t want to know. I don’t want to see myself doing such horrible things.”

Kira’s fingers wrap around hers and squeeze tightly. “Maybe it’s better that way. After I broke free, I thought no one would ever want to be around me if they knew what I had done. It’s why I never told the Jedi, not until we had to fight Valis.”

“I’m glad you trusted me enough to tell me, Kira, and enough to tell the Council. I know it was hard.” Jas returns the comforting squeeze and hopes Kira understands just how much that trust means to her. Jas implicitly trusts the Jedi—they are her people, her culture, her family—but she understands why outsiders have a hard time.

“Me, too,” she says with a quiet sigh. “I think it makes it easier, maybe hurt a little less, that people know. That I don’t have to hide it or worry about people finding out. I wish it hadn’t happened to you, but…” she trails off, like there’s a thought she had, but realizes it’s gauche to be grateful someone else understands what it’s like.

“We should have gotten matching tattoos instead of possessed,” Jas says with a grin. She’s not offended that on some level Kira may be happy that someone else has gone through what she did. And Jas rathers it was her than anyone else. If someone has to face this fire, she’ll take it on.

“We still could,” Kira laughs, but serious.

oh no.

"History doesn't repeat itself, but it often rhymes." (Twain)

They are absolutely the same trope/dynamic/plot device whatever literary tool you want to assign them.

They're the Chosen One & their super competent, load-bearing companion.

They're see me at my worst and still love me. (BOTH WAYS)

It's a slow burn and then falling all at once.

Rey and the JK are obvious parallels--Jedi, (after the 5 year gap) one of the last ones standing. Losing their mentor, the person they felt truly saw them (Han, Orgus) so early in their journey. Having this ENORMOUS weight thrust upon them which, depending how you see the Alliance and Vitiate's influence on the JK, is not necessarily something that they want!!

Poe and Theron--super competent in what they do, even if it can get overshadowed by their Jedi counterpart. Impulsive. Incredibly committed to the cause. Deep ties to the narrative (Poe's parents being rebel heroes, Theron's parents and the Revan connection). Both of them occupy the space of tethering the hero to the rest of the story, beyond the conflict with the Big Bad.

I actually love this so much, it is literally the reason I wrote THIRTY THOUSAND WORDS of the sequel kids finding Odessen. (That I one day hope to finish enough to share it.) BUT here are some bits where I really injected the theme of history rhyming.

I've always had the hc that the Force entity of Tenebrae/Vitiate/Valkorian cannot die. It loses strength as the light fights back and goes dormant. Its patience is infinite. These Sith of swtor, Palapatine, Snoke, and then Ben... it's the same.

Jas even says this to Rey, once Rey figures out how to actually communicate with her

"I have defeated him. Several times. He cannot be destroyed; he simply bides his time and takes another form when the time suits him. His patience is vast and his thirst for cruelty even greater. I knew him as Vitiate and then Valkorian, and now his power grows under a different name.” “What happens… how…” Rey couldn’t think of how to phrase her question. Was Ben dead? Was he still in there? “I think I saw this creature, Vitiate you called him, but I knew him as Snoke. The man who killed him… is he now…?” “That is how it happened to me.”

Jas SEES THERON in Poe.

He’ll betray you, a cold voice of warning echoed in her mind. His kind always do. Even Poe noticed the sudden shift in the room, or perhaps he had just noticed how her whole body had tensed with the sudden malevolent presence. No, not quite that sinister—in pain, but focused pain. “Rey? Everything okay?” “I don’t think she likes you.” Poe scoffed in mock offense. “I’m a delight.” “Poe is a leader in our group,” Rey said, trying to reason with the spirit, at least talk her down from the rage Rey could still feel growing. “He would never do anything to harm the people here.” There was a ripple, almost like a snicker, that Rey could feel. Oh, but he already has. The guilt eats at him.

“What? Finn and Poe?” Rey skipped over the part where she’d called them handsome. They were, but that was not really the topic at the moment. “Poe, yes, there’s something familiar about that one.”

SO DO I. This is another fic that is mostly just vibes. It's got a pretty good intro, but that's all. There's like no plot beyond Theron is a rebel spy and Jas is a former Padawan in hiding, currently working with the Balmorran resistance. It's one of those fics that once upon a time I thought up a lot of cool things to do.. how to put Kira, Lana, all our favs into the OT universe BUT I really should have wrote it all down. It's a fic I poke at from time to time, hoping some idea strikes me. Maybe I should just write it in snippets or prompts, rather than trying to make it an epic? Anyway, here's a part that I love. <3

ugh she just looks so good

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I wish that I could wake up with amnesia

Another morning, another day in the office. Trant looks at him like they’re all at a wake. And they are. It’s the death of normal, if normal is even a real thing. The death of their Republic, that’s for sure—can’t very well be the champions of freedom when you’re bowing down to violent dictator. And it’s the death of her. The one he feels so keenly. The one he wishes he could forget.

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FFC Prompt: Different First Meeting

“Tarisian tequila.” Two blue fingers tapped the bar followed by the slumping figure of a Twi’lek woman leaning heavily against it.

Theron grimaced from his seat nearby. “Are you trying to kill something?”

“Just the last few days,” came the grim response. A shot glass appeared in front of her and she threw it back without ceremony. She sucked on her teeth and bent her head down towards the bar before tapping her blue fingers again for another and muttered something about limes.

“And yourself?” Theron asked, only slightly concerned for this downcast stranger.

How awful it would be to have to fight your own apprentice. The person you taught, that was almost like your child, your kin. What if Orgus Din had lived and faced the Knight when they were possessed by the Emperor (the first time).

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Orgus Din wonders if there’s something wrong with him. Something wrong with the way he has lived his life. Something wrong with how he learned, how he taught. After the Sacking and losing Bengel, he had to step back from teaching. He had gotten too close. Bengel’s loss had hit him too hard.

But Bengel hadn’t died. And Orgus wished he could have been happy for the revelation. That dear boy he had taught, he had become something worse. Something hateful and violent and bent on revenge. Orgus blamed himself, of course, if he had looked harder for his Padawan, never given up… perhaps he could have found him in time to hold him to the Light.

After all that time, he had taken another. Her star shone as Bengel’s once did, but they were as different as night and day. Bengel was gentle and quiet; Jasati was loud and brash. But it was Jasati that had brought Bengel back. She had stayed her blade and offered him a path to healing, to redemption. They were both kind. Both wanting to see the best in people.

So Orgus wondered if the problem laid with him as he stood out in the wastes of Quesh, toxic winds whipping around him. He had lost a second Padawan to the Dark Side.