Disclaimer: I do not own star wars. That's simple enough.
A/n I'm not sure what you might call this. It's PG-13 but could be R I suppose. If I add to it, it could become R.
The stench was thick. He couldn't breath. It was overwhelming his senses. The stench of death. It hung in the air over the battlefield like fog. It rose like steam from the dead bodies strewn across the hill. Yuuzhan Vong, Jedi, Imperials, and rebels alike. He looked up towards the sky, his eyes scanning for more ships, but none came. No coral skippers, no New Republic ships. He was stranded on the dead planet with no one.
His eyes fell from the heavens and onto the hell in which he was on. The battle cries echoed in his head in the silence of death, and the battle played before his eyes. He saw them all fall. Kyp was the first, Nom Anor the last. Nom Anor! He stumbled over the dead bodies, clutching his own stomach where the amphstaff had bitten him. Even now, he could feel the poison flowing through his veins, infecting every part of his body, each breath that he took, death filled his being. Death of the foes and the friends.
He stumbled, but pressed on. He had to find Nom Anor. He would hate to think after all this, that he would be still alive. He stepped over Han's body, his eyes glazed over in death, his smirk plastered onto his face for all time. He paused, staring at the face which he had known for so long. A face which he had recognized as a brother. A strangled cry crept up his throat. He turned away, not noticing the tears that had sprung into his eyes. He continued on. Imperial, Imperial, Yuuzhan Vong, Yuuzhan Vong priest, Senator, "rebel." So many dead. The farther he walked, the sharper the pain became, and harder it was to breathe. Suddenly he stopped and spotted his pray. Furiously, he half, ran half stumbled to the body.
He stared at it, fury dancing in his eyes. And it stared back. The way a dead man might. He beat upon the body, letting the anger fill the empty gaps he felt. Letting the anger fill the grief which he had known for so long. He ignored the searing pain at his waist, until, exhausted, he fell over the body, panting for breath.
His hand shook as he reached for the lightsaber at his waist. He looked down into the cylinder. The weapon of a Jedi. The keepers of peace and order through out the galaxy. He snorted at the thought. Murderers. That's what the Jedi were. Assassins sent out by the government to kill those that they didn't like. He looked down again into the cylinder again and sighed. Now, at the end did he understand. No, did he admit it. Perhaps Jacen was right. Not that it matters anymore. Jacen was dead. Along with his sister. They were with their mother and brother now.
He wiped away a tear. And his wife, their aunt. He threw his head back and yelled. It shook the earth and boomed like thunder in the silence. He was silent for a moment, hearing the scream echo through the field, and then he cried as he had never cried before. Choking sobs clutched him and the tears streamed until there were no tears left.
For so long he had known the bitter truth of it. Death was death, There was nothing to stop it. Nothing. Death was the end. End of life, end of time, end of humanity, the end of all species. He slumped down onto the ground, off of the Yuuzhan Vong's body. He closed his eyes and waited in agony for the poison to finish its duty. He could feel it, but he could not make it go faster. Strangled cries clutched him, but he could do nothing but wait.
A sharp cry pierced the silence, but it was not his. Curiously he opened his eyes and listened. Another high pitched cry sounded. The cry of a child. Of an infant. Ben. Frantically, he dragged himself along the ground towards the cry. The poison came faster now, as if it could almost sense his urgency to stay alive. Now that their was another choice then to die. The cry became louder and louder until he saw the child, his child.
"Ben..." He mumbled. He reached out with the force and caressed the child's mind, telling it to not be frightened. He gathered the child in his arms, and rocked it to sleep. He leaned against a soldier, and closed his eyes once more. He felt death's iron grip around him, and he did not fight it grasp. The child stirred in his arms one last time and was still, its presence diminished and disappeared. He smiled. It wouldn't be long now. His lungs filled, emptied, filled, and emptied with one shuttering breath.
And so the great Jedi Master died. Time stopped, the stars twinkled for the last time, and the galaxy was no more.
A/n I'm not sure what you might call this. It's PG-13 but could be R I suppose. If I add to it, it could become R.
The stench was thick. He couldn't breath. It was overwhelming his senses. The stench of death. It hung in the air over the battlefield like fog. It rose like steam from the dead bodies strewn across the hill. Yuuzhan Vong, Jedi, Imperials, and rebels alike. He looked up towards the sky, his eyes scanning for more ships, but none came. No coral skippers, no New Republic ships. He was stranded on the dead planet with no one.
His eyes fell from the heavens and onto the hell in which he was on. The battle cries echoed in his head in the silence of death, and the battle played before his eyes. He saw them all fall. Kyp was the first, Nom Anor the last. Nom Anor! He stumbled over the dead bodies, clutching his own stomach where the amphstaff had bitten him. Even now, he could feel the poison flowing through his veins, infecting every part of his body, each breath that he took, death filled his being. Death of the foes and the friends.
He stumbled, but pressed on. He had to find Nom Anor. He would hate to think after all this, that he would be still alive. He stepped over Han's body, his eyes glazed over in death, his smirk plastered onto his face for all time. He paused, staring at the face which he had known for so long. A face which he had recognized as a brother. A strangled cry crept up his throat. He turned away, not noticing the tears that had sprung into his eyes. He continued on. Imperial, Imperial, Yuuzhan Vong, Yuuzhan Vong priest, Senator, "rebel." So many dead. The farther he walked, the sharper the pain became, and harder it was to breathe. Suddenly he stopped and spotted his pray. Furiously, he half, ran half stumbled to the body.
He stared at it, fury dancing in his eyes. And it stared back. The way a dead man might. He beat upon the body, letting the anger fill the empty gaps he felt. Letting the anger fill the grief which he had known for so long. He ignored the searing pain at his waist, until, exhausted, he fell over the body, panting for breath.
His hand shook as he reached for the lightsaber at his waist. He looked down into the cylinder. The weapon of a Jedi. The keepers of peace and order through out the galaxy. He snorted at the thought. Murderers. That's what the Jedi were. Assassins sent out by the government to kill those that they didn't like. He looked down again into the cylinder again and sighed. Now, at the end did he understand. No, did he admit it. Perhaps Jacen was right. Not that it matters anymore. Jacen was dead. Along with his sister. They were with their mother and brother now.
He wiped away a tear. And his wife, their aunt. He threw his head back and yelled. It shook the earth and boomed like thunder in the silence. He was silent for a moment, hearing the scream echo through the field, and then he cried as he had never cried before. Choking sobs clutched him and the tears streamed until there were no tears left.
For so long he had known the bitter truth of it. Death was death, There was nothing to stop it. Nothing. Death was the end. End of life, end of time, end of humanity, the end of all species. He slumped down onto the ground, off of the Yuuzhan Vong's body. He closed his eyes and waited in agony for the poison to finish its duty. He could feel it, but he could not make it go faster. Strangled cries clutched him, but he could do nothing but wait.
A sharp cry pierced the silence, but it was not his. Curiously he opened his eyes and listened. Another high pitched cry sounded. The cry of a child. Of an infant. Ben. Frantically, he dragged himself along the ground towards the cry. The poison came faster now, as if it could almost sense his urgency to stay alive. Now that their was another choice then to die. The cry became louder and louder until he saw the child, his child.
"Ben..." He mumbled. He reached out with the force and caressed the child's mind, telling it to not be frightened. He gathered the child in his arms, and rocked it to sleep. He leaned against a soldier, and closed his eyes once more. He felt death's iron grip around him, and he did not fight it grasp. The child stirred in his arms one last time and was still, its presence diminished and disappeared. He smiled. It wouldn't be long now. His lungs filled, emptied, filled, and emptied with one shuttering breath.
And so the great Jedi Master died. Time stopped, the stars twinkled for the last time, and the galaxy was no more.