|Even amidst pain and devastation|
Hope remains the rebel in the storm
Amongst the dust of annihilation
True beauty shines ever brighter
Poem credit to
The Clone Wars: The Jedi Who Left: Part 4The Clone Wars: The Jedi Who Left: Part 4 by ~Rebel-Rider
Ahsoka eyed the eight six-legged tanks resting in a line across the open field that was the temporary base. The guards were relaxed, as if they thought there was nothing to be afraid of. Ahsoka pushed down the anger that wanted to flood through her. There wasn’t enough Separatist presence in the area to justify destroying farmers’ land for a base. If they keep treating these farmers like this, they might be in for more trouble than they expected. Ahsoka had seen what could happen if farmers got pushed too far.
Ahsoka crept past a pair of guards and took cover behind the leg of a tank. “I’m in position,” she whispered into her comlink.
“Start cutting,” Sugi ordered.
Ahsoka reached past her blaster and grabbed her lightsaber. She sliced through two of the AT-ET’s legs then raced to the next one and did the sa
The Clone Wars: The Jedi Who Left: Part 3 “What are you doing with these mercenaries?” Mace demanded. “I knew you had trouble following orders but I never thought you’d fall this far.”The Clone Wars: The Jedi Who Left: Part 3 by ~Rebel-Rider
Ahsoka winced inwardly but she tried not to show any emotion. “Master Windu, please, find somewhere else to put your base.” Ahsoka motioned to the older farmer, who glared at Mace. “These people have been living on this land for generations.”
“This is the perfect tactical location for a base.” Mace showed no emotion, just like a good Jedi. “You will be compensated for your land.”
“Our land, yes,” the old farmer spat. “But you’re paying us nothing for this year’s crop, or our attachment to the land. It’s just dirt to you but it’s our livelihood!”
One of the younger farmers watching the confrontation stepp
WarehouseRonin sat on our lumpy couch in our cold living room on a Monday morning. He looked pale and just about as unhappy at the conversation as my father, who crossed his arms over his thin chest and stared at my brother. A clock ticked far away. “Ronin, if you really, really can't come, someone else has to.”Warehouse by ~MusicalFire
Ronin nodded, mirrored the cold stare for a while, and answered by heaving into an ancient ice cream pail. I kept my eyes on him as I volunteered to go in his place.
“As a spotter? A female? No, of course not.” My father moved on to ask each of my other younger brothers whether they would come. They shook their heads