ext_15150 (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
malabud.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
crack_van2009-05-31 02:49 pm
malabud.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2009-05-31 02:49 pm
Galaxies Apart by Larbo (PG)
Fandom: STAR WARS OT/EU
Pairing: Gen
Length: 140,000 words
Author on LJ: Unknown
Author Websites: Larbo's FFN Profile
Why this must be read:
The premise of this fic is that Luke Skywalker somehow missed (but he swears he hit it just right) when he fired that fateful shot at the end of the battle of Yavin, and the Death Star was thus able to destroy the moon along with the entire Alliance/Rebellion. Only Luke, Han, and Chewie survived. Luke, of course, blames himself, and has been wallowing in his grief and guilt for five years. It turns out, however, that history was interfered with. Someone or something has manipulated events such that history is being rewritten. Who or what is it, and what is the purpose?
This is probably one of the more unusual Star Wars fics I've read, and believe me, I've read a lot. The premise is not so unusual, but the conclusion is. Of course, I cannot give away the conclusion without ruining the story, so you'll just have to read it to find out. Suffice it to say, perhaps Darth Traya had a point after all. (Is that obscure enough for you?)
This fic does use elements of the Expanded Universe, but knowledge of the EU is not required to enjoy it. The pacing is good, the story has twists and turns in all the right places, and it is very well written. The conclusion is unexpected and satisfying as well. Highly recommended.
* * *
"Barkhesh is a miserable little world, my Lord."
The Emperor cackled. He enjoyed her sense of humour, which was as lethally sharp as her personality. "What of my concerns?"
"The local governor had been auctioning off AT-STs to local smuggler cells."
"I presume he is no longer an issue?"
"I saw fit to rid the Empire of such scum. His second in command shall assume his responsibilities."
"His reward for coming to us," the Emperor said. "Excellent work, Mara." She fairly glowed with pride.
A moment passed without comment from either party. She knew better than to question such indulgences. Her eyes wandered to the exotic carcasses adorning the walls. The Rancor suspended from the ceiling seemed especially astonished at this turn of events.
"Master..." she began.
"You want to know why it was that I summoned you here, when I could simply have briefed you through the Force at any time. I admire your directness, Mara. A few of my generals would have engaged in idle conversation for hours about the size of my Rancor. Never mind. They are fewer now," and he smiled terribly, his eyes gleaming.
She was subjected to his most intent scrutiny for another moment before he proceeded.
"Do you recall ...the Rebellion, Mara?"
"Of course, my Lord. An uninspired revolution, led by no-hopers and miscreants, nicely did away with."
That produced no smile. "Yes," the Emperor said neutrally. "Died stillborn, perished in the glorious victory that was the Battle of Yavin."
He actually shifted in his chair. She was slightly taken aback. The Emperor never fidgeted. Whatever was worrying him obviously did not fit in with the visions of the future he experienced so frequently.
"What if I were to tell you that was not the way things originally happened?"
Galaxies Apart
Pairing: Gen
Length: 140,000 words
Author on LJ: Unknown
Author Websites: Larbo's FFN Profile
Why this must be read:
The premise of this fic is that Luke Skywalker somehow missed (but he swears he hit it just right) when he fired that fateful shot at the end of the battle of Yavin, and the Death Star was thus able to destroy the moon along with the entire Alliance/Rebellion. Only Luke, Han, and Chewie survived. Luke, of course, blames himself, and has been wallowing in his grief and guilt for five years. It turns out, however, that history was interfered with. Someone or something has manipulated events such that history is being rewritten. Who or what is it, and what is the purpose?
This is probably one of the more unusual Star Wars fics I've read, and believe me, I've read a lot. The premise is not so unusual, but the conclusion is. Of course, I cannot give away the conclusion without ruining the story, so you'll just have to read it to find out. Suffice it to say, perhaps Darth Traya had a point after all. (Is that obscure enough for you?)
This fic does use elements of the Expanded Universe, but knowledge of the EU is not required to enjoy it. The pacing is good, the story has twists and turns in all the right places, and it is very well written. The conclusion is unexpected and satisfying as well. Highly recommended.
* * *
"Barkhesh is a miserable little world, my Lord."
The Emperor cackled. He enjoyed her sense of humour, which was as lethally sharp as her personality. "What of my concerns?"
"The local governor had been auctioning off AT-STs to local smuggler cells."
"I presume he is no longer an issue?"
"I saw fit to rid the Empire of such scum. His second in command shall assume his responsibilities."
"His reward for coming to us," the Emperor said. "Excellent work, Mara." She fairly glowed with pride.
A moment passed without comment from either party. She knew better than to question such indulgences. Her eyes wandered to the exotic carcasses adorning the walls. The Rancor suspended from the ceiling seemed especially astonished at this turn of events.
"Master..." she began.
"You want to know why it was that I summoned you here, when I could simply have briefed you through the Force at any time. I admire your directness, Mara. A few of my generals would have engaged in idle conversation for hours about the size of my Rancor. Never mind. They are fewer now," and he smiled terribly, his eyes gleaming.
She was subjected to his most intent scrutiny for another moment before he proceeded.
"Do you recall ...the Rebellion, Mara?"
"Of course, my Lord. An uninspired revolution, led by no-hopers and miscreants, nicely did away with."
That produced no smile. "Yes," the Emperor said neutrally. "Died stillborn, perished in the glorious victory that was the Battle of Yavin."
He actually shifted in his chair. She was slightly taken aback. The Emperor never fidgeted. Whatever was worrying him obviously did not fit in with the visions of the future he experienced so frequently.
"What if I were to tell you that was not the way things originally happened?"
Galaxies Apart