Life in the fast lane...

So...

2009-12-23T19:42:51Z

Aaron Allston rocks. Thank you for flushing out Syal's character and giving me some material to work with.

Dear James Cameron

2009-12-19T07:02:08Z

Hi, we've had a rocky relationship. I hated Titanic and never gave Terminator 2 a chance. I didn't even notice it had been fifteen years since your last film release. I admit that when I saw the previews for Avatar I thought it was some terrible mashup of FernGully and Planet of the Apes.

I was wrong. I was so very wrong.

I would like to take this opportunity to apologize for not giving your film a chance. That was the single greatest theatrical experience of my life.

I'm so very sorry, James Cameron. I will never doubt you again.

Yours,
Lane

I wrote this in the span of an hour, so I apologize in advance for the quality.

2009-12-02T03:51:33Z

Title: Why Does Daddy Have to Go?
Rating: G
Fandom: Star Wars
Characters: The Antilles family (specifically Syal), cameos by Tycho and Face
Timeline: Roughly 20-39 ABY
Disclaimer: Don't own the characters or the fandom. That belongs to Lucas and so forth.
Description: The military life is incredibly taxing, but perhaps no one suffers more than the children of the men and women of the New Republic armed forces. For Syal Antilles, it all boils down to one simple question: Why does daddy have to go?

Edit: carrole points out that I should probably have a Kleenex warning for this fic

“Why does daddy have to go?”

It was a question that Syal Antilles was forced to pose to her parents all too often. Every time she would ask, her mother would put on a smile and lift young Syal into her arms. At the time, she found her mother’s smile to be reassuring, a gentle message that nothing was amiss and everything would be alright. It would be several more years before she realized what that smile was really there for: to shield Syal from the harsh reality of her father’s line of work.

“Daddy’s going to be away at work for a few weeks, love,” her mother would say as she fought back tears. “He has a very important job, you know.”

Syal would pout at this point. Daddy always seemed to be leaving just before something important was supposed to happen. He was supposed to take Syal and her younger sister Myri to the Coronet City Zoo tomorrow, and this was something that Syal had been looking forward to this trip forever (even though she had only known about it for a standard week). As she looked out the window and watched her father’s landspeeder cruising away from their little apartment Syal could feel her frustration mounting. Daddy never wanted to spend time with her.

“It’s not fair!” Syal often protested. “He just likes Uncle Wes and Uncle Hobbie more than me.”

Syal’s mother would cast an admonishing look to her as she suddenly switched from trying to hold back tears to holding back laughter, “Trust me, Syal. Daddy would much rather spend time with you than with Uncle Wes and Uncle Hobbie.”

“Then why does he always have to go?” Syal couldn’t hide her disappointment.

Her mother’s answer was always the same, “Daddy has to go to work because he loves us very much.” She would place a kiss on Syal’s forehead as she strengthened the hold on her daughter, “He loves me, he loves your sister, and he loves you more than anyone else in the world. It’s daddy’s job to make sure that the people he loves are safe from all of the bad people in the Galaxy.”

“Daddy flies his X-Wing to keep us safe?”

“That’s right, Syal,” her mother would say as she set Syal back on the floor. “Now go play with your sister, mommy needs to make a few comm calls.”

As Syal grew older, she became more and more aware of the dangers of her father’s profession. By the time she was eight she had learned to dread the sound of her father stumbling through their home on Coruscant in the middle of the night. His heavy footsteps in the hallway didn’t always mean he was leaving on some urgent assignment from Starfighter Command. More often than not he was simply scrambling to his work terminal to answer an urgent message int he middle of the night. Still, those footsteps always caused a knot to form in the pit of her stomach. He might be getting ready to leave for work. What danger could her father be rushing into this time? Would he be coming back in one piece?

Whenever Syal’s father left the house in the middle of the night, she knew she could count on one thing. From the bunk below her, she could make out the sounds of her younger sister crying. Perhaps this caused Syal more distress than her father actually leaving on assignment. It broke her heart to see her sister so upset. Sure, their father would come into their room and tell them that he was leaving for a while, that he would be back soon and he’d be sure to make up for his absence. Their father didn’t have the time to quell Myri’s tears because a landspeeder was usually waiting outside for him. That was Syal’s responsibility.

“Why does daddy have to go?” Myri would ask through tears.

Syal would climb down from her bunk and kneel down next to her younger sister, “Daddy has an important job, sis. He makes sure that the Galaxy is a safe place for the people he loves the most: you, me, and mom.”

“But I just want him to be here with us!” at this point Syal could tell that Myri was ready to sob.

Myri put on her best smile to hide her own fear and uncertain feelings. She nodded her understanding as she wiped the tears away from her younger sister’s eyes, “I do too, Myri, but you have to remember that daddy’s only going away to work because that’s what’s best for all of us. Daddy makes sure that bad people can’t hurt us.”

Syal knew this was a gross oversimplification of her father’s job, but a part of her also recognized that ultimately that’s why their father flew a dangerous piece of war machinery for the military. There were a lot of bad people in the Galaxy, and her father was doing his part to make sure those bad people couldn’t hurt anyone, especially their family, “Daddy will be back soon, Myri.”

“Promise?” Myri would ask, sniffling as she finally got her tears under control.

“Promise.”

Though she may have been able to put up a confident façade in front of her sister, Syal had a difficult time believing in her own words. This was especially difficult when she was alone at school. Growing up as part of a military family, she had gone to several different schools to this point in her life. Though the scenery may have changed, some things stayed all too familiar. Her classrooms were filled with children who belonged to military families like herself. Like her father, many of her fellow classmates had parents who had been called away in the middle of the night.

School brought another instinctive fear for Syal. The worst thing that could possibly happen was the school’s headmaster or headmistress walking into a classroom in the middle of a lesson and having them summon one child into the hallway. Whenver this happened, Syal knew that there was little chance that the message the headmaster or headmistress had to share was good news. It was almost always devastating.

The first time Syal had seen this happen had been a jarring moment that would end up sticking with her for the rest of her life. One unassuming day during Basic the headmaster had walked into the classroom and quietly summoned Syal’s best friend into the hallway. From where she was sitting, Syal could see out into the hall via the door window. She made out the figures of the headmaster, her friend’s mother, and someone dressed in a uniform similar to the one her father wore at formal events.

Out of nowhere Syal saw her friend burst into tears. Her wails of agony could be heard through the classroom door, causing her teacher to cast a nervous glance at the headmaster in the hallway. Moments later, her friend and her mother were ushered away. Syal wouldn’t see her friend again for another week. When she finally came back to school, Syal happily bounded up to her on the playground.

“Where have you been?” Syal asked.

“Away,” her friend replied simply, staring at a pebble on the ground as if it were the most fascinating thing on all of Coruscant.

Syal could sense that something was wrong, “Did something happen?”

“My daddy died,” her friend said quietly. “Mom says he got shot down in his X-Wing.”

Syal did everything she could to try and comfort her best friend. Syal even offered her the stuffed pink Gizka in her room that her friend admired so much. Nothing Syal could do seemed to lift the spirits of her schoolmate, “Why did daddy have to go away?”

“Your dad had an important job like my dad,” Syal said confidently. “He wanted to make the Galaxy safe for the people he loved the most.”

At the tender age of eight Syal knew without a shadow of a doubt that’s why her father and her best friend’s father had gone away to war. In Syal’s mind, that was one truth she was convinced couldn’t be shaken. She held on to that belief until she was ten years old, when the Vong suddenly made her question everything. They had arrived in the Galaxy and had killed so many people and, once again, given the military another reason to take her father away from her. This time they had taken him away when her family needed him the most.

Syal, Myri, and their mother had barely escaped Coruscant as It fell to the Vong. People had been dying all around them, but no one had arrived in time to stop the Vong. When rescue had arrived to pull Syal and her family off of Coruscant and to safety, she had hoped to see her father among the people leading them away from danger. Instead, she recognized only a few of their rescuers as being friends of her father.

Syal Antilles’ father was nowhere to be seen.

“He didn’t come back for us,” Syal said bitterly.

Syal’s mother reached over from her seat on the shuttle and wrapped an arm around her daughter, “Your father has a lot on his plate right now, but he made sure to send his best people to come get us.”

“You told me daddy loved us!” Syal protested. “You said he left home so he could protect us!”

Her mother was taken aback by Syal’s sudden outburst, “He does love us. That’s what he’s doing, Syal.”

The bald man in the co-pilot’s seat of the shuttle had apparently heard Syal. He undid his seat restraints and walked into the passenger bay, taking a knee in front of her, “You know, in the heat of that daring escape I forgot to give you a message Wedge- Sorry, your dad told me to give you.”

By this point Syal wasn’t in much of a talking mood. The man continued to speak anyways, “He says he’s sorry he couldn’t be here, but the Wraiths wouldn’t let him come back to Coruscant… Syal, if it was up to your dad he would have hijacked the first shuttle he could get his hands on and come back to get you himself. He wasn’t allowed to leave the base, but he wanted to make sure the three of you got off of Coruscant safely. That’s why he sent us. We’re very good at these kinds of things.”

“And blowing things up!” the pilot called from the cockpit.

The bald man had done little to alleviate Syal’s anger towards her father. On Borleias (where the New Republic had set up a military base) she treated her father coldly. She was furious that he hadn’t come back to get them. Over the years she had developed a heroic image of her father, a man who laughed in the face of danger. A man who was infallible in every way, shape, and form. The image of her father in her mind’s eye was that of a man who would rush back home to save them from danger, regardless of the situation. He hadn’t come back for them. He had stayed on Borleias and sent others to do his job.

Why did daddy have to go to Borleias? To Syal it was beginning to feel like he left in order to get away from his family.

Not long after arriving at the New Republic base, they were forced to evacuate again. The Vong were bearing down on the planet. As Syal and her sister and mother boarded a shuttle to head to one of the safer star cruisers, she bitterly noted that her father was staying behind again. He wasn’t on board the shuttle. No doubt he had found something more important to do than tend to his family. He would probably show up on the cruiser hours or days later, sheepishly smiling and offering to buy her and her sister some sort of trinket as a mea culpa.

It wasn’t long before she realized that something was amiss. In their temporary quarters, Syal’s mother was frantically making comm calls behind closed doors. Syal pressed her ear against the door, trying to make out some sort of conversation.

“This is Iella Antilles…I know you’re busy with triage but I’ve already checked in with the lead deck officer and the roster manager…My husband hasn’t checked in and it’s four hours past the designated rendezvous window…He’s not there?...Can you send out a call to the other capitol ships?...Yes, I understand…Thank you.”

Syal slowly backed away from the door. Even though she was only ten, she could sense that something bad was happening. She sat down on a nearby chair, pulling her knees up to her chest. Where was her father? Had something happened back on Borleias? Suddenly, memories of that day at school two years earlier came flooding back to her. Had Syal’s father suffered the same fate of her best friend’s father? Had Syal’s father been shot down?

Was her father dead?

Syal wasn’t sure how long she had been crying for when the doorchime rang. Her mother burst out of her room to answer the door. At the other side with black hair and a dark beard, dressed in the same orange flightsuit that Syal’s father often wore. Syal watched as the man and her mother whispered quietly to each other. Moments later, her mother burst into tears. That wasn’t right. Syal’s mother never cried, she was the strongest person in the Galaxy. That must mean that she had gotten bad news Syal’s father.

Her mother quickly gathered her sister and took Syal by the hand. Syal was too afraid to ask where they were going, for she was expecting the worst. For what seemed like an eternity her mother led Syal and her sister through the endless maze of the star cruiser’s corridor. Eventually, she led them into what Syal recognized as the hangar where their shuttle had landed hours earlier. In the center of the large, open facility was a heavily damaged X-Wing. Flight technicians rushed towards it, placing a ladder against the hull and climbing up. One technician had brought a tool along with him and immediately, he began to cut into the hull of the battered starfighter to release the canopy. Minutes later, they extracted a man and helped him to the ground.

It was Syal’s father.

She didn’t realize that her mother had tried to hold her back when she broke into a run towards the crippled X-Wing. Without thinking, she threw her arms around her father and buried her face in his stomach. “Why didn’t you come on the shuttle with us?” Syal asked through choked sobs.

Her father looked down at her, compassion and sadness in his eyes. He knelt down and placed his hands on his daughter’s shoulders, “Oh Syal, I’m so sorry I had you worried.”

“Why weren’t you on the shuttle?” Syal repeated.

“I had to go back to get an X-Wing so I could protect you,” her father said. “The Vong were coming after us in a hurry. I needed to make sure you, your sister, your mother, and everyone else on this ship got away safely.”

“But why couldn’t you just stay with us?”

“Syal,” her father began, “even if I have to go away for a little while, I will always come back to you because I love my family with all my heart.”

It would be a number of years before she would fully understand her father’s motivation to serve such a dangerous, life-threatening calling. Now as a young adult she stood atop a stage before an audience of her family, friends, and peers. Standing before her was her father’s old friend and one of her greatest mentors. In his hand he held a small, velvet-covered black box. As he opened it, he revealed a pair of Kalidor wings hidden within it.

“Your father must be the single proudest man in the Galaxy right now,” Tycho said to her as he affixed the wings to the collar of her new uniform coat. “If you were my daughter I’d probably be doing backflips at this moment.”

The wings were the mark of a starfighter pilot. Like her father, Syal had chosen to enter into the filled lifestyle of combat piloting. She was a member of the military, and with that the many dangers associated with the calling were squarely placed upon her shoulders. Likewise, she also inherited the many gifts of the profession. Syal knew that every time she sat behind the flightstick, she would be able to protect her loved ones in a way that few were capable of and even fewer would dare consider.

“Welcome to the fraternity, Syal,” Tycho said as he snapped a salute.

She returned the gesture. As she held the salute, she spotted a familiar face in the audience. There was her father, smiling from ear to ear as she was welcomed into the military as a new X-Wing pilot.

Syal smailed faintly, “I think I get it, dad…I know why you had to go.”

Fin.

Fiction Alley: Worse Than Your AP English Class

2009-11-28T02:33:18Z

So I decided to submit my "Five Rules of a Successful Bartender" fic to Fiction Alley on a lark. A few days later, my fic is rejected. It goes without saying that I was somewhat annoyed when I saw the "Rejected" tag marked on my fic, but when I actually went in there to see why it was turned down I could only shake my head.

I didn't capitalize the F in "Firewhiskey."

My fic was rejected for one misplaced capital letter. This brings up a few questions:

1. Was the snarky response ("Here at FictionAlley we expect your grammar to be a notch above what you read at lesser websites. We have determined your fic is not at an acceptable level of grammatical competence.") really necessary for not capitalizing the F in "Firewhiskey?"

2. ARE YOU PEOPLE EMPLOYING OUT OF WORK AP ENGLISH TEACHERS TO REVIEW FICS!?

I didn't really believe the stories I heard about how little it took for Fiction Alley to reject a fic. Surely no one could be that demanding. Oh, but I was wrong. So very wrong.

So, fuck off Fiction Alley. I write for fun, but when your reviewing policies reject entire fics for simple mistakes like that, the entire process ceases to be fun. I'll stick to FFN.

FFN Flame Fail

2009-11-06T20:45:22Z

A review submitted today for one of my fics:

I do think that you need to do a little more research in to your subject matter ands the star wars universe in general.

For instance, Nar-Shada has never been and imperial world, it has always been controlled by the huts, and Myn new that Lara was alive. At the end of the wraith books he is in Wedge's office with Tycho, and together they listened to the message she left because they needed Myn's opinion on her message. In the message she basically let him know that she was alive and going by the name Kernney.

My response:

A couple notes: There's no indication as to whether Donos actually read the message or not at the end of Solo Command. The message was intercepted by Han Solo and Wedge Antilles while in the cockpit of the Millenium Falcon. They forwarded the message, but it was never stated whether Donos read it or not. There was never a scene in that novel where Donos, Celchu, and Antilles reviewed the message in Antilles' office.

Second, there were passing mentions of an Imperial shipyard over Nar Shaddaa's orbit leading up to and during the Galactic Civil War. This suggests that the planet was in fact under control of the Galactic Empire during the time Darvix would have lived there.

(What I should have added: Your spelling and grammar is atrocious and you should be ashamed of yourself)

Research that, sucker.

I am a Browncoat

2009-10-31T05:16:38Z

(Apologies for the Myspace-esque self-shot)

Not photoed: My girlfriend who went as Inara.

Things that annoy me: #3,843

2009-10-25T22:51:14Z

To preface, I'm taking a database theory class in a community college. In this class, the median age of the students is something like 38. I, on the other hand, am 21. Yesterday in class my group is trying to pick out entity classes from a project proposal so we can diagram the relations between them. This should be fairly easy, because entity classes are just general nouns like "Student" or "Advisor" or "Teacher". Should have taken maybe thirty minutes to diagram the relations, but no, it took us two hours.

My group couldn't get past the little details. Student names, Advisor names, class IDs, other identification numbers. Note that these things are not general nouns that could be construed as entity classes. They are attributes of entity classes.

This isn't what really bothered me. No, this was nothing.

Whenever I pointed out the fact that my group was getting caught up in the little details and missing the bigger picture, their response to me tended to be along these lines: "Thanks for your input, son, but I've been in the workforce for thirty years. I think I know a thing or two about project proposals. Now you just nod and smile while the grownups talk."

This is the point where I facepalm, ignore them, and finish it all myself in ten minutes.

Writer's Block: Nothing to fear but fear itself

2009-10-16T07:12:00Z

What is your biggest fear? Have you tried to overcome it?

Submitted By teammccracken

View 1475 Answers

Clowns.

No.

*shudder*

Happy 18th

2009-10-11T17:05:01Z

miraxcorran ! Go buy some dry ice and make dry ice bombs or go gamble!

Fic updates and such

2009-10-09T21:08:38Z

Well, this quarter has been very, very bad for my writing. I just haven't had time to do much. I did make a bit of headway on one of my fics and got past a really big stumbling block, so that's good. Anyhoo, here are updates in bullet form.

I just finished uploading all of X-Wing: Rise of a Rogue to FFN. The one-chapter-a-day Monday-Friday schedule worked well. Only four people reviewed, but I was averaging about 30 views per chapter. At the very least, I know people were reading it and that's a nice feeling.
I just uploaded the dramatis personae, prologue, and first chapter of Redemption of the Exiles to FFN. I'll be following the same Monday-Friday update schedule.
I am once again stalled on my HP fic. I just can't break my writer's block on this fic for some reason and that's really bugging me.
I did make some progress on my Weird Fic of Doom (The Transcendental Force). Got past a section that was holding me up for weeks, so hopefully futher progress will go better.
I still owe Myra the Luke/Mara fic I promised her in exchange for the laternate ending to Resurrection she promised me. I swear I'm going to write it.

In other news, I turn 21 on Sunday. It feels like I'm about to kiss away any pretense that I'm still a teenager.

QotD: Twitter Edition

2009-10-08T14:39:08Z

From Nathan Fillion's Twitter:

"Johnathan Frakes is directing. Yesterday, he called me Number One. My heart made a noise that sounded like awesome."

Heeee.

That

2009-09-22T18:30:29Z

was the best episode of House since CTB died.

AAAAGHGHHH

2009-09-12T04:21:39Z

I now understand why people have a love/OHMYGODIWANTTOKILLYOU relationship with Joss Whedon.

All you need to know is that I watched Serenity.

Sport analysis with real world applications

2009-09-11T05:32:31Z

Paul DePodesta is a smart man.

A lot of people have a hard time moving away from results-based analysis to process-based analysis.

Process-based analysis is great. It's fair and it correctly identifies why something went right or why something went wrong. It's rational above all else. Really, though, Process-based analysis can be summed up in one easy-to-understand matrix. Originally, this chart was designed by DePo to address the results of major league baseball's first year player draft. Really though, it's got applications to all walks of life.

What does this chart tell us? Four things.

1. Sometimes you take a stupid path to a solution and wind up with a wonderful result. Don't expect it to happen again.
2. Sometimes you take a smart path to a solution and wind up with disaster. Your process was sound, keep at it.
3. Sometimes you take a smart path to a solution and come out smelling like roses. Congrats, you deserved that victory.
4. Sometimes you take a stupid path to a solution and reality slaps you across the face and chastises you for being a damn fool.

Good grief I'm posting a lot today.

2009-09-10T17:22:10Z

Good news, everyone! /Professor Farnsworth

I don't have Swine Flu. Hooray!

While I'm waiting for lab results...

2009-09-10T16:41:26Z

I've had to urge to write or read a crossover fic. And it's a crossover fic concept that I think could be just damn awesome.

Doctor Who/Firefly

So to the fic readers on my flist who read more fic in a week than I possibly could in a year, does a fic like this exist?

Geek Culture is Dangerous

2009-09-10T16:05:27Z

So as I've told a few people, I was at PAX* last week. A few days later, I got sick.

Turns out there was a Swine Flu outbreak at PAX! So yeah, I got tested for it about an hour ago and I'm waiting for the results. Yay.

*Despite that, PAX was totally awesome.

Beware, for here be more politics.

2009-09-10T06:12:22Z

No rant this time.

www.cnn.com/2009/POLITICS/09/10/obama.heckled.speech/index.html

It's crap like this that's made it so I have no official party affiliation. I've gone from being a 70/30 voter favoring conservative politicians/issues (and a registered Republican in primaries) to a 50/50 Independent in the span of TWO FREAKING YEARS. Good God I hate politics and politicians. Watching Congress is ten times worse than all the drama wars in high school.

To every member of Congress who can't get over the little R or D listed before your name on the official roll, I have a message for you that I've borrowed from the wise and illustrious Jon Stewart:

BE A FUCKING PERSON.

PLEASE! Please I beg of you, get over yourselves and your petty little party wars and find some room in your hearts to be compassionate, rational, caring human beings. Also, if I could implore you to do just one more teeny, tiny thing...

DO YOUR FUCKING JOBS AND FIX HEALTH CARE.

...okay so there was a bit of a rant in there. I promise, I'm off the political high horse now and we'll be back to regularly scheduled trips into Lane's Deranged Mind tomorrow.

Beware, for here be politics

2009-09-09T03:59:38Z

Before I continue, I'll just preface by saying I think the healthcare system is broken and something really needs to be done. I don't know if a public option or co-ops are the answer, but something needs to happen. Drug prices are wildly out of control (and I really mean this, my Remicade would set me back about $20,000 a year if I wasn't insured and even with insurance I have to pay $4,000 out of pocket on an annual basis), there aren't enough primary care physicians out there and too many of the ones that do exist are woefully incompetent at their jobs.

The system is broken, something needs to be done. However...I think Congress may have found the one option worse than doing nothing.

Is fining a family that doesn't have health insurance $3,800 really the answer here?

Some consider this akin to the compulsory driver's insurance. Well, if I wanted to get out of the driver's insurance the option is simply not to own and drive a car. If I wanted to get out of a fine for not having health insurance I'd have to...Well, you get the idea.

Don't get me wrong, I want something to be done about the health care system. I just can't help but feel that this current proposal is absolutely insane to be discussing right now. Whatever the reasoning is, I can't fathom how these fines can possibly move the health care debate forward at this point. I'm in favor of reform, but there are a lot of people who aren't and those people are going to go apeshit when they hear about this proposal.

Fining individuals who don't have health insurance as a means to fund or promote health care reform is not helping the cause. To a certain extent I agree with what this proposal would do, and that's crack down on people who can afford insurance, refuse it, and take advantage of emergency services. However, now really isn't the time to be murmuring about 4-digit fines.

Get a non-compulsory public option going, then you can discuss fining people without insurance.

Edit: Thank you, President Obama. Here's the magic solution as described on CNN. The "Trigger" Option:

Obama just might have his finger on something that can get him through this health care showdown: the "trigger" option.

The idea would give insurance companies a defined period to make changes in order to help cover more people and drive down long-term costs. If those changes failed to occur within the defined period, a trigger would provide for a public option to force change on the insurance companies.

Lane's Apology to Joss Whedon, Part II

2009-09-04T16:53:26Z

Again, I'm so sorry it took me years to watch Firefly. I will purchase this shirt as a penance for my sins.

Also, I am madly in love with Kaylee Frye.

Clearing out the story folder

2009-09-03T21:25:19Z

This was written up a month or two ago right after Resurrection finished up in order to tie up some loose ends. If you followed the link from TF.N here, welcome and feel free to add me to your LJ friend list!

At My Side is a fic that takes place between the last chapter and the epilogue of Resurrection of a Rogue. It's a bit of an experiment fic in which you see me dabble in writing in the first person perspective.

Anyhoo, fic under the cut

At My Side

“Stop coddling her.”

She really knows just what to say to make me tick. It doesn’t matter where I am or what I’m doing, somewhere in that brain of hers she has formulated the precise words needed to press my buttons. It was almost as if she thrived on my frustration. If I was training with my lightsaber she’d chide me for using too much movement in my motions. Whenever I was analyzing data Karrde would send me, she’d shake her head and question my conclusions. Every time I stepped on the bridge, she would tell me I should do something about those few strands of grey hair that were cropping up. No, I will not do something about the grey. It’s a very dignified look.

Now she was taking exception with the way I was handling Kess. I’m too soft on her, she says. I don’t give her enough freedom, she claims.

“She’s fine,” I say dismissively as I try to turn my attention back to the stack of datapads on my desk.

“No, she’s not,” Kasari responds. “All she’s doing right now is practicing with her lightsaber and spending time in the flight simulator. Give her some responsibility, Dap.”

I rolled my eyes, “She’s not ready to take on one of Karrde’s assignments.”

“Like hell she’s not,” Kasari snapped. “How old were you when you left for the Starfighter Academy to start flying multi-million credit military warships?”

“That was different!” I told her. “I had no family and no means of supporting myself.”

She fixed me with a cold stare, “You managed, didn’t you?”

By that point I was fed up. I didn’t need Kasari telling me how to take care of the only family I had left in the Galaxy. I wasn’t about to put Kess in danger by sending her out on some fool’s errand for Karrde. That was my job. I would be the one taking the risks. I would be the one getting shot at by security details. There was no way I was going to let Kess get wrapped up in my dangerous lifestyle. If Kasari wanted Kess to help out, she could sort through datapads.

“Are we done here?” I spat.

Kasari frowned and turned on her heels, walking out of my office. I tried to scan over another datapad but set it down after a few moments. After knowing someone for so long, you begin to feel guilty when you mistreat them. It was kind of amusing, really. Ten years ago I would have snapped at her and not said another word. She would then leave and stew over the tongue-lashing I had given her. Hours later I could walk up to her and she’d still be fuming.

I’ll admit it. I felt bad for snapping at Kasari. I really was beginning to go soft. I stood up (remarking to myself that I wasn’t nearly as limber as I was thirteen years ago) and strode towards the door, leaving my office and scanning the hallway. Seeing that she wasn’t there, I proceeded to the command bridge to see if she was at her tactical post. Unfortunately, the only person present was my astrogations officer, Vik Kelrune.

“Have you seen Kasari?” I asked.

Vik glanced over his shoulder, “If this is another one of your lover’s quarrels, forget it. Last time I got involved I about had a pair of lightsabers at my throat.”

I glared at Vik, “You’re going to get my lightsaber shoved somewhere unpleasant if you keep suggesting things.”

I really wasn’t in the mood to deal with Vik at the moment and decided to leave the command bridge without another word. At some point he had gotten it into his head that Kasari and I were having some sort of relationship behind his back. Vik was constantly trying to get us to spill details of our non-existent love life. There were times I wondered if he was a teenaged girl trapped in the body of a thirty-four year old man. The next time he told me to “just get it over with and bed her,” I would be forced to inflict physical harm upon him.

I found Kasari hiding in the mess. Just as I suspected, she was still fuming, casting me an angry look before ignoring my existence again, “You know, you’re kind of cute when you’re coming up with images of me with vibroblades sticking out of my back in your head.”

She looked at me for a brief moment, choosing not to respond.

“I’m sorry I was short with you,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck as I sat down beside her, “and I thought about what you said.”

“I have a hard time believing that,” Kasari replied.

I placed my hand over hers, “You’re right about Kess. She deserves the chance to prove herself… I’ve got a couple of low-level assignments from Karrde that I’ve been putting off for a while. We can get her started with one of those.”

“Good,” She said, taking her hand away from mine.

“Still mad at me?” I asked.

“A bit.”

I shifted in my seat to face her, “Anything I can do to make up for my terrible misdeed towards you?”

“Give me a minute,” she said. “I have to think of something that’s both worthwhile to me and humiliating to you.”

After all this time, it was important for Kasari and me to smooth out these little tiffs. We both knew how to push each other’s buttons and knew just what to say to diffuse the tension. To be honest, I don’t know where I would be without her. I’m the kind of person who is liable to do something outrageous. Kasari is the one person in the Galaxy who can keep me grounded in reality. I can’t name a single person I’d trust more than her.

For thirteen years, she has always been at my side.

~*~

As soon as we’re out of here, I’m going to kill him. This was far and away the worst situation he has ever gotten me into. This was worse than the time a Kryat Dragon was chasing after me. It was worse than the garbage disposal I fell into while trying to get away from a group of Stormtroopers. Hands down, this was the most awful thing that arrogant bastard had ever forced me into. Darvix Zorvan was going to pay dearly for this. My revenge was going to be swift and painful. Let me be upfront, I’m willing to do all sorts of crazy things for him. This, on the other hand, he forced me into.

I’m wearing a dress.

That nerf-herder had put me into a little, black Lashaa-silk dress. What’s worse is that he dragged me out to one of Karrde’s overly elaborate functions so he could rub elbows with other figures in the smuggling world. Contacts were everything to Darvix. The more people he knew, the more people he could exploit. That was all well and good, he was more than welcome to meet new people to take advantage of. What was not acceptable was dragging me into this.

Of course, I’m getting away from the larger problem. I’m wearing a dress! I admit, I’ve always been a bit on the tomboyish side. I didn’t have dolls as a girl but rather model Rebellion-era starfighters (the replica Red Two X-Wing from the Battle of Yavin was my favorite). Hell, prior to joining the Jedi Academy I wanted to be a bartender. Frilly things weren’t my style, yet here I was at some fancy gala in a little black dress.

“Relax,” Darvix said to me, “you look fine.”

I resisted the urge to rip out his trachea and strangle him with it, “I look like a cheap Corellian hooker.”

“Nonsense,” he replied. “A cheap Corellian hooker wouldn’t be wearing that lovely lipstick.”

And the makeup. He had insisted on it, the smug bastard. The last time I wore makeup was for a formal school dance I had gone to as a teenager, “You’re a dead man, Zorvan.”

And so we spent the evening conversing with other smugglers in Karrde’s organization. It was the same routine every time. Darvix would introduce himself as the Captain of the Wayfarer and then gesture to me, explaining that I was his executive officer. It took every fiber of my being to keep a smile plastered on my face. My ankles and calves were starting to balk because of the heels I was wearing. Every few moments I’d have to tug at the bottom of the little black dress to keep it in place. While Darvix was talking with Karrde, Shadaa offered me a sympathetic smile. At least she knew the pain I was going through.

Eventually I managed to slip away. I walked out of the large social hall and out onto one of the nearby balconies. Almost immediately I regretted it. It was cold outside, and the little black dress did little to protect my legs and arms. Yet another reason Darvix was going to suffer by my hands. I folded my arms across my chest to try and stay warm. At least it was better than being back in there. The next smuggler to stare at my chest would lose his eyes.

“A little chilly out here, don’t you think?” Darvix said as he leaned against the balcony railing.

“Force help me, Zorvan,” I replied, “I am going to kill you for this.”

Just then I heard the sound of music coming from the social hall. My stomach sank as a wide grin formed on Darvix’s face. Before I could argue (or flee) he grabbed my wrist and pulled me back inside. I cursed as I nearly tripped over my heels, all the while trying to free myself from Darvix. I recognized the music as being some sort of a waltz. Of course it was, Karrde and overly elegant music? I’d be shocked if it were anything less.

“Ever danced to a waltz before?” Darvix asked me.

I raised a brow, “No. I don’t dance.”

“I’d say it’s high time to learn, wouldn’t you?”

“What? No!” I protested.

Of course, that didn’t stop him. He took my hand into his and placed my other hand on his shoulder. Before I could do anything he placed his hand on the small of my back and drew me into him. Suffice to say, I was both surprised and embarrassed. My cheeks felt like they were on fire. No doubt I was blushing a deeper shade of red than Tatooine at sunset. Words failed me at that moment. I couldn’t even begin to describe how uncomfortable I was.

“A waltz is fairly straightforward,” Darvix explained. “Think of it in fairly quickly connected counts of three. One-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three. All you have to do is count and follow my lead.”

I’m not ashamed to admit that I stepped on his toes a dozen or so times within the first thirty seconds. Honestly, I was taken aback by how patient he was. Normally when I did something wrong he would immediately snap at me and spend the following twenty minutes chewing me out. I remember one particular instance back at the Academy where he lectured me for an hour over my lightsaber technique. Now he was smiling and laughing, something I wasn’t used to seeing out of him. It almost looked as if he were having fun trying to teach me how to dance.

“Where did you learn how to dance?” I asked.

“My sister taught me,” he explained. “She loved to dance but always needed a partner. You should have seen the Ithorian two-step she tried to teach me.”

I could only shake my head, “I never figured you for being a dancer. Part of me wishes I could hold my own on the floor.”

“You’re not doing so bad.”

I hadn’t even noticed that I wasn’t stepping on his feet anymore. I didn’t look particularly graceful, but I was holding my own now. What more could you say? Darvix Zorvan was a brilliant instructor.The music stopped for a moment. As I tried to back away from him (thinking that he’d appreciate a bit of personal space), he increased his hold on me, “The song’s over, Dap.”

“Thank you, Kasari,” he said to me.

This was all starting to get a bit surreal, “You’re the one who trapped me on the dance floor.”

“There aren’t a whole lot of people who have the patience to put up with me,” he said. “Somehow you’ve managed to do that for thirteen years.”

“Someone has to keep you out of trouble,” I replied.

He smiled faintly, “Sometimes I feel like I’m holding you back. There’s always a little voice in the back of my head telling me that you can do better than working under scum like me.”

“Oh, shut up,” I said. “If I thought you were holding me back, I would have left years ago and taken some other post with the Jedi Academy.”

“It means a lot to me, you know,” he continued. “Force knows I’d probably be dead now if it weren’t for you.”

I wasn’t quite sure how to respond. Where was he going with this?

“Even someone as stubborn as me begins to realize the importance of someone like you,” he said somberly. “I probably should have acknowledged my feelings a long time ago.”

“Dap, what are you trying to…”

I felt his other arm wrap around me, drawing my body closer to his. I looked up at him (though admittedly I didn’t have to tilt my head all that far, starfighter pilots had a tendency to be a bit shorter than the average man). My heart skipped a beat. We didn’t utter a word as we finally admitted to each other how we felt. We didn’t need to. As his lips pressed softly against mine, I allowed myself to become lost in his embrace. How long had we both felt this way? It didn’t really matter, I realized.

He had always been at my side. As far as I was concerned, I would always be at his.

~*~

I’ve never been so nervous in my life.

I once ejected from a burning starfighter into a hard vacuum and I felt more composed than I am now. Hell, even during my final exams at the Starfighter Academy I didn’t feel quite this anxious. Right now it felt as if my heart was going to leap out of my throat and hitch a ride on the next transport to Tatooine. My stomach was faring no better. If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought someone had reached inside me and was twisting my intestines into knots. I nervously tugged at the sleeves of my black formal coat.

“You okay, Dap?” Karrde asked me. “You look like you’re trying to navigate through The Maw.”

“I might stand a chance of breathing properly if I was trying to fly between black holes,” I replied.

Just as I was about to eject the contents of my lunch onto the bridge of the Wild Karrde, she passed through the doors and made her way towards me. Kasari looked absolutely stunning. Now, I don’t the sort of “stunning” some sludge news tabloid would associate with a holostar (though in my biased opinion she could hold her own with any holodrama actress), she was simply beautiful. Her smile and the way she carried herself exuded a sense of confidence and unadulterated joy. All of that was complimented by the elegant, flowing white dress she wore.

This really was happening.

She smiled at me as she stood across from me, Karrde in between us, “Relax, Dap. It’s just you, me, Karrde, and his entire crew watching. No pressure.”

“Pressure? Me?” I smiled in turn. Thank the Force she recognized that I was feeling rather anxious. “Perish the thought. This is just another ploy to get you into a dress.”

“Nice try, flyboy,” she replied. “I willingly chose to be in a dress this time.”

Karrde cleared his throat, “I do hate to interrupt, but are you to ready to proceed?”

Oh that’s right. We’re at a wedding.

Our wedding.

I hadn’t even noticed that Kess was standing next to Kasari and Vik was standing next to me. Neither of us had many close friendships beyond those that we had either brought with us to Karrde’s smuggler operation or had formed after we began to work for him. Vik and I had been close friends since our days at the academy. Kasari and Kess had become the best of companions in the year and a half we had worked together. We didn’t have to do much thinking before asking them to be the witnesses for our wedding.

“Friends and comrades,” Karrde addressed the crew that had assembled on the bridge of the Wild Karrde, “We’re gathered here to witness the eternal union of Kasari Lisae and Darvix Zorvan. Both Kasari and Dap have asked that this ceremony be kept brief, so we’ll proceed straight to the vows. Do you have the promise ring?”

I looked over at Vik and whispered, “I swear if you do that ‘I’m going to pretend I’ve lost the ring’ routine, I will knock your teeth out.”

He merely grinned at me and placed the ring in my hand as Karrde continued, “I know you have prepared your own vows. Please exchange them at this time.”

I had to swallow to get rid of the lump in my throat. I smiled once more at Kasari and took her hand in mine, running my thumb softly over her skin, “Kasari, I give you this promise ring as a symbol of my eternal love and deep gratitude. As I place it on your finger, I give to you my heart and a promise of devotion.” I carefully (nervously) slid the ring onto her slender finger. “I give you this ring to wear with love and joy, as a reminder of my love for you and my thanks for the years of companionship we have shared and the many years we have yet to enjoy.”

“With…” I took paused to take a deep, steadying breath as my emotions began to get the better of me. “With this ring I pledge to you that I will forever be your husband. With the Force as my witness, I gladly marry you and give my life to you. With this ring, I wed you and bestow upon you all of the gifts and treasures of my mind, heart, and soul.”

Kasari had to wipe a few stray tears from her eyes before she responded to my vow, “I will wear this ring with joy. Whenever I look at it, I will remember this wonderful day and the vows we have made.”

I felt Vik pat me on the shoulder as Kasari prepared to give me her vows, “Darvix, I give you this promise ring as a symbol of my eternal love and deep gratitude. As I place it on your finger, I give to you my heart and a promise of devotion.” She placed the ring on my finger before continuing, “I give you this ring to wear with love and joy, a reminder of my devotion and love for you and my thanks for the many years of companionship we have shared and the wonderful lessons you have taught.”

“With this ring,” she continued (I noticed she seemed to be handling her emotions better than me), “I pledge to you that I will forever be your wife. With the Force as my witness, I gladly marry you and give my life to you. With this ring, I wed you and bestow upon you all of the gifts and treasures of my mind, heart, and soul.”

Hang in there, I told myself, “I will wear this ring with joy,” I said. “Whenever I look at it, I will remember this wonderful day and the vows we have made.”

I took both of her hands into my own as Karrde spoke once more, “Darvix, do you take this woman to be your wife and companion, to be at her side through triumph and tragedy, for time and all eternity?”

“I do,” I said (somewhat proud of myself for managing to find my voice again).

“And do you, Kasari, take this man to be your husband and companion, to be at his side through triumph and tragedy, for time and all eternity?”

We had come this far, yet I couldn’t get over the sense of dread in my stomach. She could still say no. Hell, she probably should say no. She could still wake up and realize she was about to marry a shady piece of scum that was more at home amongst smugglers and criminals than the civilized Galaxy. This was her out. If she wanted to save herself, all she would have to do is utter one word and it would all be off.

“I do,” she replied.

A few feelings ran through me at that moment. First I felt numb. Just a few ticks later a flood of relief washed over me, which was followed up by an overwhelming sense of joy. I looked over at Karrde, who smiled and held his hands up in the air, as if presenting us to the crew, “As the captain of this illicit smuggling vessel, I pronounce you husband and wife-”

“Now get it over with and kiss each other already!” Vik interjected.

You didn’t have to tell me twice. We embraced and kissed, causing the crew gathered on the bridge to erupt in cheers (my good drinking buddy Aves being one of the most vocal). As we broke apart from the kiss, Kasari’s lips hovered near my ears. She whispered seven words to me that I will never forget.

“I will always be at your side.”

~*~

He ran his fingers through my hair as I lay in the bed where I was recovering my strength. As it turns out, a nine month-long ordeal that culminates in one of the most physically painful and trying experiences a human being could go through can really take the life out of you. When I was a young teenager, I had broken my leg playing shockball. At the time I was certain that I would never feel worse pain in my life. Suffice to say, I was wrong, so very wrong. No matter. Now it was behind us and we could continue with life as normal.

What am I talking about? Life would never be the same for us again!

“How are you feeling?” Darvix asked.

I tried to think of some clever analogies to describe how I felt, but I was too exhausted to come up with anything particularly witty, “Better. Tired.”

“Still mad at me?”

“Well, I don’t want to kill you for putting me through this anymore. Critically wound you, perhaps. I might even let you off with only a moderate beating.”

Darvix laughed softly as he intertwined his fingers with mine, “Think we’re in over our heads?”

“When are we not in over our heads?” I replied. “We’ve spent fourteen years getting into more trouble than we know how to deal with. Remember that time we had to disguise you as a woman to sneak you past that cult?”

“Don’t remind me,” Darvix said bitterly.

A noise came from the end of the bed. Before I could say anything, Darvix stood and rushed over to the crib as infant began to cry. He reached in and lifted up the child, cradling her in his arms. At that moment, there was an odd look in Darvix’s eyes as he looked down at the newborn. I knew what was running through his mind, because I felt the same thing when the doctor placed her in my arms for the first time.

This was our daughter. This was the child the Galaxy had entrusted us to raise and to love, to protect and to nurture. At that moment I felt the enormity of that responsibility, and to be honest, I was frightened. I didn’t think I was cut out to raise a child, to be a mother. Even after I’ve had a few hours to gather my thoughts, I was still somewhat scared. Am I really ready for this?

No doubt the same thoughts were running through Darvix’s head. He was an analytical man, so I knew he was playing through a multitude of scenarios in his mind. He was probably thinking about how he would teach her to play the keybed. Dap was probably thinking years down the line, when he’d have to restrain himself from committing an act of murder when some boy took his daughter on her first date. Someday, he would have to give away his precious little girl to another man.

I watched as Darvix gently rocked our child back to sleep. I was taken aback by the sight of him with our daughter in his arms. It looked as if he was overwhelmed by his emotions. As I reached out with the Force, I could feel the conflicting thoughts. He was scared just as I was and continue to be, but he also felt a tremendous amount of joy. Darvix looked at me, and almost instantly I felt all of my concerns washing away.

“I’m a daddy,” he said quietly.

I smiled, “Yes, you are Dap. Not only that, but you’re going to be a great daddy.”

Darvix sat down beside me once more, our child still in his arms, “A great daddy? Right now I’m a terrible parent. Both of us are, really.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Well, we still haven’t given her a name.”

We had agreed that we wouldn’t name her until after she was born. Well, she had been born. It was probably time to rectify that, “Any thoughts?”

“I…” Darvix blinked, “I have no idea. I mean, I’ve thought of a few names but I don’t want to make a mistake here.”

“Well, tell me one you’ve thought of.”

“There’s Wynssa-”

I held my hand up, “We are not naming my daughter after some holostar you drooled over as a boy.”

We were silent for a long while. If we were having this much trouble simply selecting a name, what did this mean for us going forward? Was this some sort of indicator of how difficult it was going to be to raise a child? That was a frightening thought.

“Lilea,” I said, breaking the silence.

Darvix looked, “Lilea. I like that.” He looked down at our daughter, still asleep in his arms, “Lilea Zorvan… You’re named after a good friend of ours, you know.”

“Shhh,” I chided. “Let her sleep.”

Darvix nodded and stood, taking her back to the crib and gently laying her down in it, “Remember, Lilea… I will always be at your side.” He looked up at me, “and I will always be by yours.”

I don’t remember when I fell asleep, but I awoke hours later to find that Darvix was still there, sitting beside me fast asleep. I gently placed my hand on his shoulder, “Dap?”

“Hm..?” he blinked awake. “Are you alright, Kasari?”

“I’m fine,” I said. “Just… I just wanted to tell you something.”

“What’s that?”

“I love you, Dap,” I said quietly.

He smiled and leaned over me for a moment, placing a kiss upon my lips, “and I love you, Kasari.”

I’m not sure what the future holds for Darvix and myself. All I know is that we will endure the challenges and triumphs together and in the same manner we always have. We would face the Galaxy head on.

He would be by my side, and I would be by his.

The End

Forget health care reform for a little bit...

2009-09-02T04:04:29Z

I WANT COLLEGE TEXTBOOK REFORM NOW! MY WALLET WEEPS IN PAIN OVER THE MONEY I JUST SPENT!

Futher proof that the sci-fi gods love me and want me to be happy

2009-09-01T16:31:13Z

Two things

2009-08-31T20:39:06Z

1) Why didn't I start watching Firefly sooner!?

2) FUCK YOU FOX FUCK YOU

No longer bummed out!

2009-08-29T04:13:21Z

STS-128 launch: SUCCESS! WOOOO!