I managed to find time to write after all! I also wrote out a list of what was going on – you know there are about 19 plot threads? Yeesh. So here's some more.
Chapter 18
The reason for Darth Vader's panic over his son going to Hogwarts was about two feet high, clad in a cloth robe and carrying a little walking stick, and spoke in bizarre syntax. Oh, and green.
The reason also happened to be the most powerful Jedi of his time.
The reason also happened to be extremely pissed off.
The auditions in the Star Wars Prequel Fanverse for Anakin's evil twin were well underway. Mace Windu still couldn't for the life of him understand why these two new Jedi, Aragolas and Legorn, seemed to be trying so actively to sabotage the things which made Star Wars so brilliant.
The 'Anakin's Evil Twin is Darth Vader' idea seemed as though it could, with a lot of work, actually not cause too much damage – the amount of spin-off fanfics it would produce would strengthen any weaknesses caused by the drop in interest from all those fangirls out there who thought Anakin looked hot when his eyes glowed. But Anakin's evil twin would need to be completely and utterly bad-ass in order to attract that kind of attention.
The people Aragolas and Legorn were interviewing were not completely and utterly bad-ass.
"So – Quentin, is it?" asked Aragolas pleasantly, scanning the information in front of him and looking up at the man in front of him. Mace Windu looked at Quentin as well, and his stomach sank. He looked so plain, so unassuming, that Mace suspected he had been born without personality, or at least had it surgically removed shortly after birth. The dull expression on his face actually had a soporific effect, and Mace Windu found himself nodding as soon as he spoke.
"Yes," said Quentin in a dull monotone, "Named after my father. He was named after his father. And he was named after his father. And he was named after his father. And he-"
"Was named after his father?" yawned Mace Windu.
"No, actually," droned Quentin, "His name was Smethley."
Mace Windu didn't even know the names Quentin and Smethley existed in the Star Wars Prequel Fanverse.
"Traditional family name, is it?" said Aragolas brightly.
"No," said Quentin, "My mother just found the name agreeable."
"Lovely. So, Quentin, what do you do in your spare time?"
Quentin stared blankly into space for several long moments. Mace Windu started to worry that he had died standing up without them noticing, but then realized he was just thinking. "I find watching clouds going past pleasant," he said eventually, "And looking at walls which have just been painted. I also find the history of stamp collecting is a truly fascinating subject, why, just the other day…"
As he listened to Quentin droning on about something he'd read about stamps, his voice never changing pitch or speed but continuing in the dreary monotone, Mace Windu could feel the will to live slowly leaving him.
His voice also seemed to be affecting Aragolas and Legorn, Mace Windu vaguely noticed before almost all conscious thought left him and went to sleep somewhere in the dark recesses of his mind, depressed into slumber by the sheer fact that someone could exist with such a lacklustre view on life, I can see the same fear in their eyes…
Aragolas and Legorn could indeed feel the affects of his voice, but were able to resist the soporific effect. Aragorn had gone up against Sauron, for Eru's sake, anyone else should be barely a trivial concern – though Quentin was proving to be quite a challenge in his own right. At least with Sauron he fought because he wanted himself and his friends to be free – with Quentin, all will to do anything was vanquished, and he was beginning to see the attraction of cutting off his own ears just so that he wouldn't have to listen any more.
It was even worse for Legolas, with his heightened elvish hearing; normally he could pick out every single nuance of emotion in someone's speech and understand how they were feeling better than they could themselves. With Quentin, however, there were no nuances of emotion. His voice was a void, a hollow vacuum sucking in any possible interest one might have in whatever Quentin was talking about – which Legolas would never know, because as soon as he started talking he realized the danger he was in and sealed off his ears, choosing to listen to the Lay of Beren and Luthien in his head instead. But just Quentin's expressionless face was enough to chill his blood.
Looking around at the rest of the Council, all of whom were asleep or rocking back and forth in their chairs, covering their ears and humming, it dawned on Aragorn and Legolas that Quentin could be extremely valuable.
"Thank you, Quentin," said Aragorn loudly and brightly, interrupting Quentin's description of how two identical stamps were actually somewhat different, but not too much, just a little to be of interest (Quentin's definition of interesting suggested that he had not seen a dictionary for too long), "I don't think you're quite what we're looking for, but-" Now that the voice was gone, the other Council members were beginning to wake up, so he continued hurriedly, "-I'm sure my colleague Legorn here would like to escort you to a speeder."
"I get nauseous in moving vehicles," said Quentin.
"I'm sure you do," muttered Mace Windu, slapping himself in the face to wake him up.
"A lot of things make me nauseous, actually," remarked Quentin, "I first noticed this when I was eleven years old, three months and eight days old… the day was unseasonably warm, I remember, and I was going out to buy some dusters and lavatory cleaner, because there was a three for two offer on at the local supermarket…"
Aragolas blinked and shook his head to clear it. "Yes. Well. Still, Legorn will show you the way out. It's been…" He somehow couldn't bring himself to say 'a pleasure', so he finished, "… enlightening."
Legorn leapt to his feet and hurriedly steered him out of the room, shooting an evil look at Aragolas as they passed him. Aragolas understood why – already relief was rushing into him that he might never have to hear that voice again…
Too soon. Just as Quentin reached the door, he said, "Goodbye."
He didn't just lack emotion in his voice. He had the opposite of emotion – anti-emotion, which, like anti-matter, cancelled out any available emotion, but unlike anti-matter, didn't release a large amount of energy in the process – instead, it seemed to drain it from the soul of everyone within earshot. A fearful shiver rippled around the Council Chamber, but swiftly evaporated as soon as Legorn shoved Quentin out of the door and slammed it shut behind them.
Everyone sighed in relief and liberation.
"NOT HIM," said Mace Windu forcefully.
Aragolas looked at him innocently. "Goodness, no. I wouldn't dream of it. No, we've still got lots of applicants – the next one is Cuthbert Blethwick, ooh, apparently he's interested in moths…"
Legorn continued to propel Quentin down the stairs, muttering prayers to Eru, Elbereth, and even Morgoth if he happened to be listening and could stop him suffering the terrible effects of Quentin's soul-draining voice. He decided not to give him the chance to speak, and said, "Quentin, we haven't been able to offer you this job, but we have another lined up which I think you'd be perfect for."
"I thought-" began Quentin, and Legolas's soul screamed in horror and started to crumple in on itself. Legolas screwed up his face and interrupted loudly,
"Yes, I know that wasn't what was advertised, but seriously, I think this other job would be perfect for you. You see, there's a growing market for audiobooks-"
Before Legolas could continue or, thankfully, Quentin could ask anything else, That Reason why Darth Vader was so fearful of his son going to Hogwarts marched in through the front doors of the Jedi Temple and announced in a loud, carrying voice,
"Jedi, need I, for an assault on Hogwarts! Dumbledore apparently wiser than me is! Learn not to mess with me, he will!"
-
Sam, Merry and Pippin thought they were starting to get the hang of this sailing lark. After a lot of experimentation with the sails, they figured out how to make the ship go faster and slower, and taking turns at the wheel meant they soon quickly all learnt how to steer. They also learnt a lot about cannons after a minor accident involving Pippin trying to smoke a pipe below decks.
But all this aimless sailing around was starting to bore them. Which was why when they found a weird compass in one of the rooms below decks, also filled with rum, they eagerly examined it.
"It doesn't point north," Merry had observed.
"Where does it point, then?" Sam had wondered. Pippin was too busy 'examining' the rum to add his own comment.
They decided, in true hobbit fashion, that there was only one way to find out.
This same philosophy was applied when they arrived at Isla de Muerta and wondered what was in that dark cave. It was used again when they found a strange chest in aforementioned dark cave and wondered what was inside it. And when they opened the chest and found it filled with glittering Aztec gold, they decided that their philosophy was excellent, and they would certainly recommend it to a friend.
"How much do you think is in here?" said Merry, eyes wide.
Pippin looked thoughtful and counted on his fingers. "A lot," he concluded.
Even the steadfast Sam was enchanted. "Who do you think it belongs to?"
"Whoever it is, I doubt they'd notice if it was gone," said Merry, "They've got enough treasure here…"
"Our need is greater than theirs," agreed Pippin, "Need for mushrooms, anyway."
Still Sam hesitated. As shiny as the gold was, the skulls were a little off-putting. Besides, he assumed anything Pippin said was a good idea to be a bad idea on principle.
Suddenly a clear, regal yet young voice rang out behind them.
"Hobbits, step away from the chest. My sister has an arrow trained on one of you, and I will not say which, but I do not hesitate to inform you that if you move, she will shoot, and she will not miss."
-
Red Tigress – I can't fit much more Star Trek in here, unfortunately – what you saw in the last chapter was pretty much the extent of my knowledge. But I might be able to mention them again later on… possibly investigating just where they get this seemingly endless supply of cannon fodder…
BlueDove – Cute, but inescapably doomed. Like the bunnies in Watership Down.
SlashyKitty – That's the thing with Firefly – it doesn't have many fans, but its few are so devoted they take it upon themselves to spread the message…
Kelly of the midnight dawn – He did? Whoa, if he'd been on the original Enterprise he'd have been mourning a LOT.
Mousewolf – Henchman's Union? That sounds intriguing…
writerR – Only a little? Dang, I'm losing my touch. Thanks for reviewing, by the way, you reminded me I needed to update.