Disclaimer: Joss, WB, UPN et al. own Buffy. George Lucas, LucasFilm, LucasArts et al. own Star Wars. Timothy Zahn owns Grand Admiral Thrawn. Squaresoft own Final Fantasy. No, this isn't a FF fic.
Title: For the Good of the Empire.
Author: Paradigm Shifter
Feedback: Yes! YES! Please?! Love to know what you think.
Rating: I'll go with PG for now. Be prepared for it to go up, though.
Grateful Thanks: go to Trevelyan (Matt) and Bobby Cox. Your input and suggestions were both invaluable for this.
Notes: The first of a set of Halloween fics. All the others will be one-shots; this will be a continuing fic (mainly because the opportunity to rewrite Buffy if Thrawn was there is too good to miss) So... this is the fourth chapter (don't expect me to stick word for word to the script, that's boring. In fact, don't expect me to stick to anything other than the basic gist of the episodes...)
*
One moment, Xander was guiding his group of for now, at least, surprisingly well behaved Trick or Treaters down the street, and the next...
...he was no longer himself.
His mind rebelled for an instant. No longer himself? Of course he was.
It was a dichotomy of feeling. Two minds could remember themselves, but were within one body. Engaging in a battle of wills, one won, and one lost.
What _had_ been Xander, lost.
The alien presence won.
Thrawn straightened as he came back to himself, and shrugged his uniform into a better fit on his shoulders. Blinking the momentary dizziness away, he looked at a world that seemed... less sharp than his view used to be. And more worryingly, there were buildings and people about him. Strange... he didn't remember visiting any populated worlds in the Unknown Regions.
But here he was. There was obviously civilisation, although a primitive one by the Empire's standards. Small... things... ran about unchecked, and he felt his pockets for some sort of communicator.
The Chimaera, surely, would be in orbit?
But no, it seemed as if the Emperor had one more test for him. One more stratagem needed before he could return and claim his place amount the Twelve Grand Admirals. He wore the rank: he wore the title. But none other than the Emperor, himself, one of the Emperors many 'Hands', and his Fleet knew it.
Thrawn felt a pang of uncertainty as he discovered that he had no communication equipment. He had a blaster, however, and that made him feel a little better. Drawing it, but holding it loosely at his side, he turned around on the spot slowly, and watched the world.
The small creatures – perhaps more alien even than some of the sub-humanoids he had discovered in the Unknown Regions – ran riot. None dared to approach him, and he walked through the chaos, part of it, but at the same time divorced from the proceedings.
A voice made him turn, and his eyes widened as he saw who had called.
"Jade..." he growled.
*
Mara Jade fired a shot as the creature charged, and her eyes widened as two things happened.
The first, and by far the most important in her eyes, was that the charging creature collapsed as soon as the shot engulfed it, twitching and spasming as it went.
The second, and one that she would be berating herself about for a long time, was that the blaster pistol was on 'stun'. Pumping one more shot into the creature, she stood carefully, and flicked the selector switch to 'kill' as she did so. Better to have too much firepower in a shot than too little.
Sore muscles protested as they were used in ways that they were not accustomed to, and Mara winced. "Am I out of shape?"
Then she scowled, as she realised she had shown a sign of weakness.
Thank the Force that the Emperor had not seen that little display: he would have killed her outright – both for the evidence of cowardice as she had fallen backwards under the assault, and for showing a weakness afterward.
There seemed to be hundreds of the creatures running around what looked to be a simple, but still post-Stone age society. Mara made a snap decision at that moment: the creatures seemed to be less bothered by her than she was by them: unless they attacked her, she was going to leave them be. It was the better way with primitive societies: attacking them could mean more problems than it was worth.
A scream rent the air, and Mara was instantly alert again. A girl in a large gown, similar to the things the Emperor forced Mara to wear on dress occasions, but all red instead of green, was fleeing headlong from a small group of the creatures.
Mara spun, tripping up the girl as she ran past, sending her sprawling to the dirt. Bringing her weapon to bear, she calmly flicked the weapon to 'stun' again, and took out the four creatures chasing the girl, with a practiced ease that came back to her now she wasn't as disoriented as she had been initially.
The girl continued to scream as she saw the four creatures go down writhing in the electric arcs that stun blasts left.
"Would you be quiet?!" Mara snapped, which only served to get the girl _crying_ and screaming, instead of just screaming.
Getting sick of the noise, Mara leaned in close to the girl, and dragged her to her feet, while jamming the blaster viciously into her abdomen. "Shut up, or by the Force, I'll gutshoot you and leave you here for those _things_ to do whatever they want with you!"
The girl snivelled. "You... you wouldn't!" she regained some poise – as much as could be expected given her now torn and grubby gown, and red eyes. "I am a Lady, and I'll have you flogged from one end of this town to the other if you do not do your duty and protect me!"
Mara snorted. "Protect you? _Me_? Get this into your pretty little blonde head, girl: it's not my duty. I owe my allegiance to one man, and _one_man_only_!"
"My father will pay a handsome sum to see me returned safely!"
This brought Mara up short. Money? This world that was more of a backwater than Tatooine had _currency_? Then it wasn't all lost. "How much?"
"My father will be more than happy to give the princely sum of ten sovereigns." Buffy replied.
"Ten?" Mara snapped, "what are you trying to pull, girl? Ten of _anything_ isn't worth saving _your_ sorry butt."
"It's... it's the entire taxes the landholdings pay in three years!" Buffy was in tears from terror and shock. To be rescued, or supposedly rescued, only to have something worse than her original fate happen her way! It was too much for such a high-born lady.
Mara sighed. Obviously, the girl was the daughter of an important man. At least in this world. It would be best not to antagonise her. 'Ingratiate yourself with her, and you've ingratiated yourself with her parents,' a little voice in her head told her. She agreed. "Oh, come on, girl. Don't cry." Mara was inwardly rolling her eyes at what she was saying, "I'll get you back to your parents, and you can live happily ever after..."
All the time, her mind was making sarcastic little snide-asides, an inner monologue that would have done the most cynical Imperial Senator proud.
Buffy stopped sniffling, and looked at her guardian. "Thank you. Where do you wish to head?"
Mara shrugged. "I really don't care. Down this pathway looks a likely choice. It's large, and may lead to civilisation. Or some more of it, anyway..."
Buffy hiked up her skirts and petticoats. "Very well. Although I cannot travel quickly, I shall develop blisters, you know." She waved a dainty foot in the air as demonstration, and Mara rolled her eyes again as she saw the delicate slippers that she had on.
Mara sighed heavily, and waved her free hand in a combined gesture of resignation and 'follow me'. "Alright. Whatever. Come on, let's go."
*
The Gunblade came crashing down on one of the little demons that had charged him, and Seifer sneered as the last of them fell.
How he had come to be here, he had no recollection of. How he had come to be here with Squall's revolver, he had some rough idea of. He had just taken it as a trophy after Squall's spectacular defeat at the hands of his Mistress, Ultimecia. But Squall didn't know that. Seifer grinned. While he had favoured the Hyperion Gunblade, there were things to be said for Squall's revolver model. It had power where the Hyperion did not, and was well able – when there was some weight behind it – to cleave through anything.
Although he would never even _think_ of telling Squall, he admired the weapon.
Kicking one of the corpses contemptuously, Seifer strode off. The Mistress wished the world, and she would have it: be it his, this one, or any other...
*
Title: For the Good of the Empire.
Author: Paradigm Shifter
Feedback: Yes! YES! Please?! Love to know what you think.
Rating: I'll go with PG for now. Be prepared for it to go up, though.
Grateful Thanks: go to Trevelyan (Matt) and Bobby Cox. Your input and suggestions were both invaluable for this.
Notes: The first of a set of Halloween fics. All the others will be one-shots; this will be a continuing fic (mainly because the opportunity to rewrite Buffy if Thrawn was there is too good to miss) So... this is the fourth chapter (don't expect me to stick word for word to the script, that's boring. In fact, don't expect me to stick to anything other than the basic gist of the episodes...)
*
One moment, Xander was guiding his group of for now, at least, surprisingly well behaved Trick or Treaters down the street, and the next...
...he was no longer himself.
His mind rebelled for an instant. No longer himself? Of course he was.
It was a dichotomy of feeling. Two minds could remember themselves, but were within one body. Engaging in a battle of wills, one won, and one lost.
What _had_ been Xander, lost.
The alien presence won.
Thrawn straightened as he came back to himself, and shrugged his uniform into a better fit on his shoulders. Blinking the momentary dizziness away, he looked at a world that seemed... less sharp than his view used to be. And more worryingly, there were buildings and people about him. Strange... he didn't remember visiting any populated worlds in the Unknown Regions.
But here he was. There was obviously civilisation, although a primitive one by the Empire's standards. Small... things... ran about unchecked, and he felt his pockets for some sort of communicator.
The Chimaera, surely, would be in orbit?
But no, it seemed as if the Emperor had one more test for him. One more stratagem needed before he could return and claim his place amount the Twelve Grand Admirals. He wore the rank: he wore the title. But none other than the Emperor, himself, one of the Emperors many 'Hands', and his Fleet knew it.
Thrawn felt a pang of uncertainty as he discovered that he had no communication equipment. He had a blaster, however, and that made him feel a little better. Drawing it, but holding it loosely at his side, he turned around on the spot slowly, and watched the world.
The small creatures – perhaps more alien even than some of the sub-humanoids he had discovered in the Unknown Regions – ran riot. None dared to approach him, and he walked through the chaos, part of it, but at the same time divorced from the proceedings.
A voice made him turn, and his eyes widened as he saw who had called.
"Jade..." he growled.
*
Mara Jade fired a shot as the creature charged, and her eyes widened as two things happened.
The first, and by far the most important in her eyes, was that the charging creature collapsed as soon as the shot engulfed it, twitching and spasming as it went.
The second, and one that she would be berating herself about for a long time, was that the blaster pistol was on 'stun'. Pumping one more shot into the creature, she stood carefully, and flicked the selector switch to 'kill' as she did so. Better to have too much firepower in a shot than too little.
Sore muscles protested as they were used in ways that they were not accustomed to, and Mara winced. "Am I out of shape?"
Then she scowled, as she realised she had shown a sign of weakness.
Thank the Force that the Emperor had not seen that little display: he would have killed her outright – both for the evidence of cowardice as she had fallen backwards under the assault, and for showing a weakness afterward.
There seemed to be hundreds of the creatures running around what looked to be a simple, but still post-Stone age society. Mara made a snap decision at that moment: the creatures seemed to be less bothered by her than she was by them: unless they attacked her, she was going to leave them be. It was the better way with primitive societies: attacking them could mean more problems than it was worth.
A scream rent the air, and Mara was instantly alert again. A girl in a large gown, similar to the things the Emperor forced Mara to wear on dress occasions, but all red instead of green, was fleeing headlong from a small group of the creatures.
Mara spun, tripping up the girl as she ran past, sending her sprawling to the dirt. Bringing her weapon to bear, she calmly flicked the weapon to 'stun' again, and took out the four creatures chasing the girl, with a practiced ease that came back to her now she wasn't as disoriented as she had been initially.
The girl continued to scream as she saw the four creatures go down writhing in the electric arcs that stun blasts left.
"Would you be quiet?!" Mara snapped, which only served to get the girl _crying_ and screaming, instead of just screaming.
Getting sick of the noise, Mara leaned in close to the girl, and dragged her to her feet, while jamming the blaster viciously into her abdomen. "Shut up, or by the Force, I'll gutshoot you and leave you here for those _things_ to do whatever they want with you!"
The girl snivelled. "You... you wouldn't!" she regained some poise – as much as could be expected given her now torn and grubby gown, and red eyes. "I am a Lady, and I'll have you flogged from one end of this town to the other if you do not do your duty and protect me!"
Mara snorted. "Protect you? _Me_? Get this into your pretty little blonde head, girl: it's not my duty. I owe my allegiance to one man, and _one_man_only_!"
"My father will pay a handsome sum to see me returned safely!"
This brought Mara up short. Money? This world that was more of a backwater than Tatooine had _currency_? Then it wasn't all lost. "How much?"
"My father will be more than happy to give the princely sum of ten sovereigns." Buffy replied.
"Ten?" Mara snapped, "what are you trying to pull, girl? Ten of _anything_ isn't worth saving _your_ sorry butt."
"It's... it's the entire taxes the landholdings pay in three years!" Buffy was in tears from terror and shock. To be rescued, or supposedly rescued, only to have something worse than her original fate happen her way! It was too much for such a high-born lady.
Mara sighed. Obviously, the girl was the daughter of an important man. At least in this world. It would be best not to antagonise her. 'Ingratiate yourself with her, and you've ingratiated yourself with her parents,' a little voice in her head told her. She agreed. "Oh, come on, girl. Don't cry." Mara was inwardly rolling her eyes at what she was saying, "I'll get you back to your parents, and you can live happily ever after..."
All the time, her mind was making sarcastic little snide-asides, an inner monologue that would have done the most cynical Imperial Senator proud.
Buffy stopped sniffling, and looked at her guardian. "Thank you. Where do you wish to head?"
Mara shrugged. "I really don't care. Down this pathway looks a likely choice. It's large, and may lead to civilisation. Or some more of it, anyway..."
Buffy hiked up her skirts and petticoats. "Very well. Although I cannot travel quickly, I shall develop blisters, you know." She waved a dainty foot in the air as demonstration, and Mara rolled her eyes again as she saw the delicate slippers that she had on.
Mara sighed heavily, and waved her free hand in a combined gesture of resignation and 'follow me'. "Alright. Whatever. Come on, let's go."
*
The Gunblade came crashing down on one of the little demons that had charged him, and Seifer sneered as the last of them fell.
How he had come to be here, he had no recollection of. How he had come to be here with Squall's revolver, he had some rough idea of. He had just taken it as a trophy after Squall's spectacular defeat at the hands of his Mistress, Ultimecia. But Squall didn't know that. Seifer grinned. While he had favoured the Hyperion Gunblade, there were things to be said for Squall's revolver model. It had power where the Hyperion did not, and was well able – when there was some weight behind it – to cleave through anything.
Although he would never even _think_ of telling Squall, he admired the weapon.
Kicking one of the corpses contemptuously, Seifer strode off. The Mistress wished the world, and she would have it: be it his, this one, or any other...
*