again my apologies for the like, two month delay but voila, la chappie! lmk ur thoughts and stuff in the comments :))))
a/n: chappie edited 17/04/2023 for extra detail and cool stuff. yeah that's sorta it lol. enjoy
CRASH!
y/n braced for impact, bending forward and wrapping an arm around his head. The other unconsciously reached over and wrapped firmly around Ahsoka's body.
There was an almighty thud and they felt their bodies strain to lurch forward, but held back by the tightened straps of the seat belts. Vibrations rocked the Reconnaissance-170 starfighter as its nose smashed into the ground. The sound of screaming metal being disfigured continued for at least twenty seconds as the ship's momentum carried it sliding forwards for another few hundred metres.
At last, the noise and the movement stopped. y/n opened his eyes, which he hadn't noticed he'd shut, and was met with Ahsoka's own stormy blue ones. They noticed their proximity to each other and his arm around her. He gave her a small grin and she smiled back.
A few minutes later they were outside the cockpit, surveying the damage of the starfighter and gazing around the barren landscape.
"Any idea where those pesky Seppies are?" y/n asked, crossing his arms. He had one foot planted on the nose of the fighter as he looked around the empty space.
"Probably burnt up when they entered the atmosphere," Ahsoka replied. "They were going way too fast; that's how they overshot us and hit the thrusters."
y/n shrugged. "Makes little difference. We're here where we need to be. Shall we?" He theatrically extended an arm towards her. Ahsoka rolled her eyes and slapped his arm away. "Which way, Captain l/n?"
Oon was a bleak desert planet with almost nothing but flat orange sand stretching out in every direction. Somewhere, though, there was a fortress that housed a special artefact.
y/n and Ahsoka had been tasked to retrieve the lost Jedi Holocron. It had been finally found, somehow, through his dealings in the slave trade by a Zygerrian based on Oon.
The Jedi Council had another reason for sending them as well. After Onderon and Shu-Torun, a rift had formed between the two Padawans. The mission was an attempt to bring them together, but the Council didn't realise that the two had already mended their differences.
Ahsoka and y/n marked the coordinates of their fighter with a locator, then started the trek through the arid, sandy landscape, continuing towards a horizon being distorted by heat shimmer.
It was around an hour's walk of small talk, awkward jokes and nervous laughter before they saw a dark smudge in the distance. The two still hadn't fully resumed their previous easy-going friendship. Continuing towards it, perspiring in their brown cloaks with the hood up, they two made their way towards the only sign of civilisation.
A while later, the dark sandstone fortress was before them. The shadowy entrance loomed like the mouth of a beast and was guarded by four Gamorreans wielding deadly axes. The guards let the Jedi in after the former were shown the lightsabers.
Entering the fortress was like a blessing; the darkness and cool sandstone made the space a more tolerable temperature. A Twi'lek slave approached them once they were inside, and led y/n and Ahsoka into the heart of the structure.
The passages wound around like a maze, dim and pleasantly cool. The slave guided them up a set of stairs and suddenly they were bathed in light again.
The steps had led upwards to a lavishly decorated space. They were up a few stories from the ground, on a large balcony that wrapped around the circular arena below.
Ahsoka stiffened slightly. It had the exact same design as the arena from the palace of the Zygerrian queen.
Slaves and Zygerrians were everywhere on the platform, the former serving food or entertaining the latter. It was a scene of calm chaos.
Suddenly a shadow fell over the Jedi and they spun quickly, hands on lightsabers.
A deep throaty chuckle.
"You won't be needing those," a large, broad-shouldered Zygerrian grinned, accentuating his pointed teeth. He was rather young, perhaps just having entered adulthood. He wore a rich velvet coat with gold buttons and epaulettes, a scarlet sash across his body. His maroon pants tucked neatly into polished, knee-high boots, but there was a fleck of rusty red on the heel. A cruel shock whip hung from his belt. "Fear not, fear not, we are here on diplomatic terms."
His eyes fell upon Ahsoka and the corner of his lip tugged upwards. Bowing, he extended an arm towards her and said, "My apologies. An introduction is needed here. I am Scordad Anec, the king, if you will, of Oon."
"We have heard that Your Majesty is in possession of a Jedi Holocron?" y/n cut in before Ahsoka could speak, a little too pointedly. Anec's head slowly turned to face him. The Zygerrian gave a cold, thin-lipped smile and dipped his head.
"Yes, that is correct, Master Jedi," the slave trader said, faking politeness. Without taking his eyes off y/n, he gestured for another Zygerrian to come over.
"Skarkan," Anec said, "escort this Jedi to the...waiting room."
Skarkan turned and was about to lead y/n away when Anec called them back.
"You won't be needing your lightsabers, both of you," he smiled coolly.
y/n and Ahsoka exchanged a look of uneasiness, but then consented. They removed their weapons from their belts and hesitantly placed them into the open paw-like hands of the Zygerrian. y/n saw the look of curiosity and fascination on the self-proclaimed king's face as the latter came into possession of the lightsabers.
"What are you waiting for?" Anec drawled, running his fingers over the design of Ahsoka's shoto hilt. "Take him, Skarkan. Meanwhile, you," he extended a hand and drew the Togruta towards him. "You will come with me and we shall see what you can do."
A loud riotous roar roused Anec from the shadowy corner of the room, where he reclined leisurely on a wide, scarlet coloured chaise.
Ahsoka used the opportunity to pull her face away from the onslaught of makeup brushes that were assaulting her face.
As soon as she and y/n had been separated she knew something was wrong. Once Anec took her into his own private quarters and called a team of makeup artists, tailors and fashionistas, she felt it confirmed.
She had been, not exactly forced, but compelled, to change into a flowing snow-white robe that revealed too much skin. It was held up by a Grecian neckline that left her back exposed. The sleeves were long and hung like drapes, connected to the rest of the dress at an angle that made hindered her movement. The dress, however, was also cut to a degree so that every step Ahsoka took, a large portion of her legs would show.
There were jewels and bracelets and bangles all over her arms. The stylists were in the process of making up her face when the racket outside sounded.
Anec rose from his chaise and smiled appreciatively when he saw Ahsoka's appearance.
"That looks much better, doesn't it? Come. Let's watch this beautiful spectacle." The Zygerrian offered her his arm and Ahsoka thought of how y/n had done the same thing earlier. Only this time, she took it, though with much hidden disgust and unwillingness.
They walked slowly out of the room and back onto the expansive balcony. It was much more crowded than before, most of the space being occupied by Zygerrians, their slaves, and a small handful of other species who bore the attitude and posture of being slavers themselves.
A space cleared for Anec as he approached the edge of the balcony. A platform was hastily rolled in, a glittering, majestic gold throne perched on it. The Zygerrian king, on the seat of the house, with an exposed Ahsoka beside him, now looked down onto the arena below.
She frowned, then blinked. Slowly she began to shake her head, then realised the company in which she was, and stopped. Ahsoka tried to digest the information her eyes were receiving.
There, walking onto the arena, under the gazes of hundreds of slavers, was y/n.
He was completely naked except for a sort of loincloth. A number was painted in blood on his back. She hoped it wasn't his blood. Every part of his body was smeared either in an oil or his sweat, making him gleam under the heat of the sun. The tattoos made it seem as if he had some black sleeve on his arm and left pectoral. His muscles rippled with every movement as he forced himself to stroll calmly into the centre of the arena.
Despite the inevitability of danger, Ahsoka couldn't take her eyes off him.
"Silence!" Anec roared, and the spectators obeyed. Under complete silence he spoke again, everyone hanging on to his words. "Unleash the rancors!"
The silence was shattered again by the mob of cheering slavers, impatiently watching as three separate hidden gateways opened up from the walls of the arena.
There was a deep growling that issued from the darkness of each of the chasms. Footsteps vibrated through the ground underneath Ahsoka's feet. She felt her heart race as the shadows of three gigantic creatures fell upon the dusty sand of the arena.
y/n swallowed, felt the sticky blood on his back begin to dry under the heat, and sized up his surroundings. The cuts stung slightly, and he fumed at himself for being so off guard that he could be drugged. Looking up at the circle of people booing at him and cheering for the rancors, his eyes found the white-clothed figure of Ahsoka, standing stiffly beside Anec. His blood boiled, seeing her oppressed by a slave trader.
As the rancors appeared, y/n closed his eyes and tried to focus on the Force. Rancors weren't that bad. He remembered them on Dathomir, tame and affectionate to the Nightsisters. He wasn't sure how they could be calmed down, but y/n was sure that with the Force and proper coercion he could do it.
The first one charged at him, accompanied by an increasingly loud hoot from above. y/n felt it coming and extended his hand towards it, holding it back from its stampede with the Force. It was his left, and he let his eyes concentrate on Tattoo's name as he relaxed his mind.
The next came, followed by the last, coming at him from different angles. Sweat beaded on his face, a mix of the intense heat and the intense mental fatigue.
Somehow, he managed to hold all three rancors back, their clawed feet pawing the ground and making deep slashes in the red sand.
Almost immediately the clamour changed to booing for y/n.
"We want more action!"
"Kill him!"
"Come on!"
Shouts rang out through the arena, and he fought to maintain his concentration. Reaching out to the first rancor with the Force, he tried to assume a kind, gentle demeanour. He imagined the rancor as some kind of cute creature, and that he was stroking it, and that the rancor was softening up to him.
To his surprise, the massive creature slowly ceased pawing the ground. It gave an almost melancholy low, then sunk to its knees and lay on the ground, blowing up dust with each massive breath.
y/n did the same to the second rancor, and the specators all fell silent.
Ahsoka watched him in relief. Maybe, if he survived, they could still somehow escape. She allowed herself a breath, not even realising that she had been holding it.
And then suddenly there was the unmistakable sound of a blaster shot, loud and resonant, just beside her ear.
She reached for her lightsabers, only to remember they weren't there, and in the process tore part of the dress.
A yell of pain.
Ahsoka turned to see Anec's blaster pistol return to his belt.
Below, y/n dropped to his knees, one hand clutching his chest.
He lost his concentration and suddenly the last rancor broke free of his Force barrier. It reared onto its hind legs, gave a terrifying bellow of fury, then charged straight at y/n.
In a burst of desperation Ahsoka called on the Force and used it to throw the creature aside, but it was a second too late.
Reaching out, the beast's claws reached him – rammed into him – before being violently jerked and thrown aside.
Another yell, this one a scream.
y/n basically fell forwards, a bloody hole through his right shoulder blade, completely passing through and making another wound through the right of his chest.
so let me know, do you guys prefer more scene description or is this enough? and i hope theres enough action there...
i keep forgetting that y/n has tattoos lmao so yeah, added that extra description. the tattoos also act like a metaphor to him losing control of his emotions and stuff.
leave a vote and comment, theyre so funny and great to read. y'all are great
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