Memories of Things Said and Done
Title: Memories of Things Said and Done
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Faith strolled through the halls of the Galactic Museum on Coruscant by herself, hands stuffed in a leather jacket that wouldn’t have looked out of place back on Earth.
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon owns "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and related characters; George Lucas owns "Star Wars" and related characters; I own nothing.
Author's Note: Part of the One Step Closer verse. Title comes from the Carl L. Becker quote, "History is the memory of things said and done."
Faith strolled through the halls of the Galactic Museum on Coruscant by herself, hands stuffed in a leather jacket that wouldn’t have looked out of place back on Earth. Kell and Tyria had been planning on spending the day with her there, but there’d been an urgent call from their boss, so they had to leave. They did made sure, though, that she had enough credits for food and the taxi ride back to their apartment before taking off. It was five by five with Faith. She was a big girl and could take care of herself.
Almost unconsciously, she found herself wandering towards the newly reopened exhibit on the history of the Jedi. Tyria had mentioned it, said it might be good for Faith to know what she was getting into before training started. Faith agreed, although she didn’t mention that she’d gotten a good view from the Holocron in her possession. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to share it with anybody else, it was just that she kept getting whispers through the Force saying, Not now. Wait. So she kept silent. Besides, it would be cool to see some of the holos of the history she’d only heard about through Kenobi’s gatekeeper thingy.
There was a fair crowd moving through, and Faith easily lost herself in the flow of beings. She looked at the blank holes in the history with a strange sense of sadness. She knew the history of Bastilla and Revan and the Jedi Exile to name a few, but it looked liked that general knowledge’d been wiped out during the Emperor’s reign. Shaking her head at her sentimentality, she kept walking through the exhibit, before pausing again in the portion concerning the Clone Wars at a recording of Kenobi leading an army of clones into battle. His face was familiar enough to her after her time with the Holocron, but it was strange seeing him all beaten up, with a fierce look in his eyes that she recognized. It made him seem more human, more real, than the eternally calm gatekeeper she kept talking to.
“It’s interesting what they choose to commemorate,” a said behind her.
Startled, Faith turned around to see who’d snuck up on her. The woman was an alien, although Faith couldn’t identify the species. Bald, with grey tattoos covering pale white skin on her head, she carried herself with an air of authority bordering on arrogance. Her eyes were mismatched--one grey, the other cybernetic--and it gave her an even more unsettling air. Those eyes flicked up at the holo Faith had been looking at before returning to Faith’s face.
“Sorry for startling you.” She didn’t sound all that sorry.
Faith shrugged. “No big.” She turned her attention back to the holo. “Somebody once said that history was written by the winners. Pretty spot on if you ask me.” Faith might’ve not been big on school, but she remembered some things. That one in particular had stuck with her, especially after she’d been Called as a Slayer.
“Crude, but yes, I believe that captures it.”
Faith, out of the corner of her eye, could’ve sworn there was a flash of grief on her face before it went back to its impassive state.
“Kenobi would hate this. He did hate all the adulation that came with being the poster boy for the Republic.”
“You knew him?!” Faith hissed, whirling around to face the woman again. Kenobi had died over a decade ago, and before that had been in hiding for almost 20 years. The way this woman talked about him, though, she’d known him before all of that.
“We ran in similar circles,” the woman replied, her mouth twitching slightly, as if amused by something only she knew.
The woman began walking, and Faith, curious, followed her. They didn’t go far: the woman stopped in front of a replica of the old Jedi Temple, now in ruins, and her face hardened. Her next statement was so quiet, even with her Slayer hearing Faith strained to hear it: “The Order raised itself too high and too separate and allowed itself to rot from within. It made it that much easier for the galaxy to lose faith in them and and do nothing while they were destroyed by the Empire. And now this New Republic is raising them up again as martyrs for the old regime. Skywalker best be careful he doesn’t repeat the past’s mistakes with that new order of his.”
“How do you know all this?” Faith asked. What this woman was saying, what she was implying about the fall of the old Jedi Order was different from what she’d learned from the Holocron. “Who the fuck are you?”
The woman’s mouth twisted into a bitter smile, and in the part of her head that Faith was learning to identify with the Force, she suddenly sensed her presence. As if the woman had been hiding her potential and was now choosing to reveal herself as an explanation.
“Somebody best left forgotten,” she answered softly. “My story is one neither side would be kind to.” She paused, before adding, “May the Force be with you, girl.”
Too quickly for Faith to react and stop the woman and ask her to explain what she meant, the woman turned around and melted back into the crowd, vanishing as quickly as she appeared. Looking back at the holos depicting the Order’s reconstructed history, Faith repressed the urge to shiver. She couldn’t help but feel as she she’d just seen a ghost, though of who, she wasn’t sure.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Faith strolled through the halls of the Galactic Museum on Coruscant by herself, hands stuffed in a leather jacket that wouldn’t have looked out of place back on Earth.
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon owns "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and related characters; George Lucas owns "Star Wars" and related characters; I own nothing.
Author's Note: Part of the One Step Closer verse. Title comes from the Carl L. Becker quote, "History is the memory of things said and done."
Faith strolled through the halls of the Galactic Museum on Coruscant by herself, hands stuffed in a leather jacket that wouldn’t have looked out of place back on Earth. Kell and Tyria had been planning on spending the day with her there, but there’d been an urgent call from their boss, so they had to leave. They did made sure, though, that she had enough credits for food and the taxi ride back to their apartment before taking off. It was five by five with Faith. She was a big girl and could take care of herself.
Almost unconsciously, she found herself wandering towards the newly reopened exhibit on the history of the Jedi. Tyria had mentioned it, said it might be good for Faith to know what she was getting into before training started. Faith agreed, although she didn’t mention that she’d gotten a good view from the Holocron in her possession. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to share it with anybody else, it was just that she kept getting whispers through the Force saying, Not now. Wait. So she kept silent. Besides, it would be cool to see some of the holos of the history she’d only heard about through Kenobi’s gatekeeper thingy.
There was a fair crowd moving through, and Faith easily lost herself in the flow of beings. She looked at the blank holes in the history with a strange sense of sadness. She knew the history of Bastilla and Revan and the Jedi Exile to name a few, but it looked liked that general knowledge’d been wiped out during the Emperor’s reign. Shaking her head at her sentimentality, she kept walking through the exhibit, before pausing again in the portion concerning the Clone Wars at a recording of Kenobi leading an army of clones into battle. His face was familiar enough to her after her time with the Holocron, but it was strange seeing him all beaten up, with a fierce look in his eyes that she recognized. It made him seem more human, more real, than the eternally calm gatekeeper she kept talking to.
“It’s interesting what they choose to commemorate,” a said behind her.
Startled, Faith turned around to see who’d snuck up on her. The woman was an alien, although Faith couldn’t identify the species. Bald, with grey tattoos covering pale white skin on her head, she carried herself with an air of authority bordering on arrogance. Her eyes were mismatched--one grey, the other cybernetic--and it gave her an even more unsettling air. Those eyes flicked up at the holo Faith had been looking at before returning to Faith’s face.
“Sorry for startling you.” She didn’t sound all that sorry.
Faith shrugged. “No big.” She turned her attention back to the holo. “Somebody once said that history was written by the winners. Pretty spot on if you ask me.” Faith might’ve not been big on school, but she remembered some things. That one in particular had stuck with her, especially after she’d been Called as a Slayer.
“Crude, but yes, I believe that captures it.”
Faith, out of the corner of her eye, could’ve sworn there was a flash of grief on her face before it went back to its impassive state.
“Kenobi would hate this. He did hate all the adulation that came with being the poster boy for the Republic.”
“You knew him?!” Faith hissed, whirling around to face the woman again. Kenobi had died over a decade ago, and before that had been in hiding for almost 20 years. The way this woman talked about him, though, she’d known him before all of that.
“We ran in similar circles,” the woman replied, her mouth twitching slightly, as if amused by something only she knew.
The woman began walking, and Faith, curious, followed her. They didn’t go far: the woman stopped in front of a replica of the old Jedi Temple, now in ruins, and her face hardened. Her next statement was so quiet, even with her Slayer hearing Faith strained to hear it: “The Order raised itself too high and too separate and allowed itself to rot from within. It made it that much easier for the galaxy to lose faith in them and and do nothing while they were destroyed by the Empire. And now this New Republic is raising them up again as martyrs for the old regime. Skywalker best be careful he doesn’t repeat the past’s mistakes with that new order of his.”
“How do you know all this?” Faith asked. What this woman was saying, what she was implying about the fall of the old Jedi Order was different from what she’d learned from the Holocron. “Who the fuck are you?”
The woman’s mouth twisted into a bitter smile, and in the part of her head that Faith was learning to identify with the Force, she suddenly sensed her presence. As if the woman had been hiding her potential and was now choosing to reveal herself as an explanation.
“Somebody best left forgotten,” she answered softly. “My story is one neither side would be kind to.” She paused, before adding, “May the Force be with you, girl.”
Too quickly for Faith to react and stop the woman and ask her to explain what she meant, the woman turned around and melted back into the crowd, vanishing as quickly as she appeared. Looking back at the holos depicting the Order’s reconstructed history, Faith repressed the urge to shiver. She couldn’t help but feel as she she’d just seen a ghost, though of who, she wasn’t sure.