Whole New Take on Balance by Glacis. Rated R for language and
sexual innuendo. Because there
isn’t enough parody flying around about the Sith’s
Revenge, and in honor of a guy who’s secure enough in his masculinity to smooch
his co-star on the red carpet in the middle of London. (NO, THIS IS NOT RPS – this is a PARODY using
the CHARACTERS… the motivation springs from a real smooch, though. Here’s to ya, EMcG!)
Ah, life was good.
Cody the Clone gave him back his light saber, General Grievous fell to
his blaster (how… uncouth… but how nice to finally end it), Anakin was back on
Coruscant taking care of politics, and out of nowhere, the Council decided he,
Obi-Wan, should take a holiday!
Considering he’d been fighting a war for twenty
years with his only days off being spent in the bacta-tank,
it was an unexpected blessing. So he did
what he’d been wanting to do since he was a tadpole,
and went glacier-climbing on Hoth for a month. He’d get back to the war soon enough. But for now, he was in an icy heaven, just
him and the Taun Tauns,
trekking through the snow.
Ah, life was bliss!
Meanwhile, back on Coruscant…
“You WHAT?”
Purple lightning flew from his fingertips as
Chancellor Palpatine’s fingers began to singe at the
ends. Anakin flinched. He was a miserable failure. He was.
There they were, him at the head of the clone army, all set to march in
and decimate the Jedi temple and begin his new life as a Sith
and what happens?
Padme calls him on the emergency-only frequency and
makes him come home with pineapple fudge-chunk ice-cream and Branson pickle.
It is nearly impossible to find Branson pickle on
Coruscant at one in the morning. By the
time he’d found it, gone home, soothed his prickly pregnant wife, lost his
dinner over her blatant enjoyment of the disgusting treat, and made it back to
the temple, the temple Guard had taken the clones out for a night on the town
and the invasion plan was out the window.
“I’m doing this for her,” he muttered fiercely,
then knelt to take his punishment.
Loudly he intoned, “Yes, Master, what is your will?”
“Not that you aren’t quite pretty like that, Vader,
my dear apprentice,” Sidious hissed with an unsettling leer, “but this isn’t
helping my plans any. The Jedi are no
worse off than they were, other than the hangovers and potential blackmail
material from the slave girls and dancing boys.
What do you propose you do to make up for your abysmal failure?”
Anakin thought hard and came up with very
little. “Uhm,
sneak in and kill them all in their sleep?”
“All eight thousand
two hundred ninety four of them?” Sidious asked
dryly. Before Anakin could begin to do
the math in his head, Sidious went on. “Although you may have something there… in their sleep… hmm.”
While Sidious was off in la-la land plotting death
and destruction, Anakin felt the pager embedded in the hilt of his light saber
buzz against his thigh.
“Ani, honey, I really, really need some Nutella. And asparagus. With fried eggs.”
“Yes, dear,” Anakin managed before closing the
connection and ralphing just to the left of the
Chancellor’s throne. Sidious wrinkled
his nose at the smell and glared at Anakin.
“Er,” Anakin mumbled, “I
have to… er.”
“Oh, go,” Sidious sighed. “I can see you’ll be no use at all until the
brat’s whelped. Go, then!”
As Anakin sidled out, holding his stomach with one
hand as he whispered “nutella, asparagus, eggs, ugh!”
over and over, Sidious shook his head.
“So very
pussy-whipped, that one. Good training, though… since she’s broken him
my task will be all the easier!” Sidious
paused for a nice, maniacal laugh, then coughed and returned to his diabolical
planning. “Guess I’ll have to take care
of the
Meanwhile back on Hoth…
“WHOOOOOOOOOOOOO-EEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”
Obi-Wan’s scream of pure unadulterated enjoyment
echoed off the ice packs and caused a series of avalanches that, between them,
carried off three small native villages.
From their vantage point on a ridge some ways away, Taun
Taun One and Taun Taun Two looked at the Crazy Jedi Bastard body-surfing down
the second-highest glacier on the planet then looked at each other.
Oohrerulk! (he’s nuts) barked Taun
Taun One.
Lllluycchhh (but the money’s good) barked Taun Taun Two.
Not having any argument on that one, Taun Taun One barked Mmmurrth ptooui! (he comes after my
belly with that fucking light saber and I’m gonna
shove it where the sun don’t shine)
Fruuumth, barked Taun Taun
Two (that’s not for another few decades.
And not in this universe).
Kah! barked Taun Taun One (good! I
pity that other poor son of a bitch!).
And with that they settled down to eat lunch and
watch their Crazy Jedi Bastard do Crazy Jedi Things.
Meanwhile back on Coruscant…
Sidious cut loose with a rolling maniacal laugh so
perfidious and, well, overwhelming, really, that the foundation of the Senate
building began to separate and curl inward, fissures blackening along the
edges. The senators were so impressed
with this spontaneous architectural formation they immediately began a
months-long debate on whether it qualified as art and should be preserved using
public funds or was a previously-unknown marble-based hostile life form that
should be eliminated using public funds.
Glad his eminent colleagues were distracted by such
weighty matters, Sidious crept out the side door and
made his way to the outside vents of the air duct system for the Jedi
Temple. Cackling (much more quietly, in
case the Temple should get ideas and start manifesting artistic leanings) he
dumped bag after bag of gleaming ruby-red dust into the vents.
Two days later, the Coruscant Daily Times reported
a strange occurrence:
‘Members of the Jedi Order from the youngest
younglings to the oldest oldlings, at all levels of
training from crèche-member to Council Master, have reported catastrophic
failure in their ability to contact, use, manipulate, and otherwise play footsie with the Force.
Where this leaves us, the unprotected citizens of the Republic, is
anyone’s guess. Chancellor Palpatine
expressed his utmost sympathy for the sudden utter and absolute inability of
the Jedi to be Jedi, and recommended they all take a nice long vacation
somewhere on the Outer Rim. Perhaps the Ewoks would have some suggestions for them. Until then, to maintain order, he says, “I
guess we’ll just have to send in the Clones.”’
Meanwhile in
Senator Amidala’s private chambers…
“I DON’T GIVE A FLYING FUCK WHAT’S GOING ON AT YOUR
STUPID TEMPLE, ANI! I WANT TO GO TO
NABOO!! NOW!!!!”
Anakin pulled his fingers from his ears and looked
with soppy love and extreme irritation (a less-difficult mixture to maintain
the further his beloved progressed in her pregnancy) at his glowing if now very
round wife. And at the
blaster pistol in her wildly-waving hand.
“Yes, dear,” he caved.
That evening C3PO and Padme went happily home to
Naboo. Anakin ditched them at the
spaceport and ran home to Daddy.
Er, Sidious.
Who was still crowing about his happy Sith dust (AKA unhappy Jedi dust).
“It deactivates the active midichlorians found
throughout the host body without impacting any other non-Force-wielding life
forms in the area, rendering the Jedi useless – Useless! Useless, I say! Their power is gone,
they can no longer access the Force. We,
of course, are unaffected, my dear young apprentice, as the dust is only
effective up to a maximum ability level, and you and I, of course, have such
strength we are too far above and beyond the cut-off line for the dust to have
any impact on us at all. Other than
disarming all the Jedi and leaving the juicy pickings to us, the Sith, of course! The
galaxy is ours, young apprentice, and we shall…”
“Brilliant, Master,” Anakin interjected at
intervals as his master droned on… and on… for hours.
So pussy-whipped, Sidious thought, as he continued
to crow.
Meanwhile on
various planets throughout the galaxy…
Clones, given the Order 66, turned on their Jedi
commanders in droves.
The Jedi commanders, not being on Coruscant and
therefore not being dosed with Unhappy Jedi Dust, retained their full abilities
in the Force. Also, not being the
incompetent, oblivious weenies that they are in some OTHER universes, they
NOTICED that the clones turned on them.
And they FOUGHT BACK instead of simply falling over and dying.
So on worlds all over the galaxy, Jedi Masters (and
their new allies, the Trade Alliance with Droid armies) fought Clone
armies. It was epic. It was widespread. No one on Coruscant ever knew, because the
Forceless Jedi were too busy having panic attacks at being Forceless and the
Senate were too busy debating art funding and Sidious was STILL crowing.
Anakin beat his head silently against the side of
the marble throne. Unfortunately living
with and listening to Padme had inured him to constant verbal abuse and he had
a naturally hard head, so he remained conscious and listened.
Sidious couldn’t have planned a better or more
appropriate regimen for honing Anakin’s rage.
Back to the
planets…
The only planet that didn’t join in the new face of
war was the Wookie planet, because there was a
sunspot flare just as the order was going out from Coruscant, and in the
ensuing garbled transmission the Head Clone thought the Sith Lord said Order
6-2-6.
So that particular clone army invited the Wookies in for a big bong party/rave, at which Yoda wowed
everyone with his cool urban breakin’ moves – his big
combination was a helicopter (with one leg under him and the other one
stretched out straight and moving in a circle on a horizontal plane, passing under
the balancing leg and ending up in front, hard as it was to tell with such
short legs) followed by a turtle (a complete spin of the body performed in the
float position, accomplished by shifting weight from one arm to another, and
placing the other hand out progressively in a circle, then switching hands and
repeating the motion, clawing the crap out of the floor as he did so) then
finishing up with a gainer (a running backward flip facing forward, performed
by thrusting the entire body into a flip, launching hands and legs up and then
tucking the legs up to the chest – all made much easier with a judicious
application of the Force).
He tried a knee spin (all weight is balanced on the
knee touching the floor while the other leg is raised and a spin is initiated
through a push off with the hands; speed is increased after the flow of motion
is established by pulling the hind leg into the body) but not having knees, he
failed. Still, he was the undisputed
King of the dance.
The Wookies were so
impressed they gave him piggy-back rides all over the planet, exhausting the
clones so badly they got dehydrated and died, so when the sunspot had passed
and the order was repeated, there were no clones left to execute it. And so Yoda and the Wookies
partied on.
Until eventually, much later, Yoda felt a
disturbance (or perhaps better described as an unaccustomed stillness) in the
Force, and headed back to Coruscant to check it out.
The Wookies mourned.
Meanwhile back on Hoth…
A whole month of slip-sliding down glaciers,
cross-country skiing across drifts the size of continents, and hanging out with
Taun Tauns, and Obi-Wan
finally felt up to going back to Coruscant and being pummeled by politicians
again (or at least sent to the far reaches of the Galaxy to confront
multi-armed mad creatures with stolen light sabers, delusions of grandeur, and
massive droid armies at their command).
Besides, he was kind of missing Anakin.
He was a little surprised that no one had contacted
him, but inferred from the complete lack of disturbance in the Force (other
than an odd maniacal laugh or two, but that was probably electro-magnetic
current feedback distorted in the upper atmosphere) that the war was going well
for a change and he should take his days off while he could get them. Still, he was a good Jedi at heart, and so
eventually duty began to hen-peck him.
Packing up his goggles, his last clean set of fur
underwear, and his sturdy boots, he patted the Taun Tauns affectionately on their noses and turned to tramp up
the ramp of his cruiser to head on back home.
He didn’t notice either the way Taun Taun Two mooned after him with big watery eyes or the way Taun Taun One spat jealously at
his retreating heels, happy to finally have her mate back.
Playtime was over and it was time to face the
music.
Meanwhile on Naboo…
Padme gave birth to twins and was so busy wearing
out various Gungan nannies she completely forgot to
ask where Anakin was hiding.
Meanwhile back on Coruscant…
Obi-Wan walked up the steps of the Temple, feeling
unsettled and uneasy. His footsteps
echoed. There was no sign of life, no
hurrying acolytes, no screaming younglings, no kvetching oldlings,
no indication the Jedi Order remained in existence at all, other than a huge
scrawled message in what appeared to be either blood or raspberry jam across
the arch of the main entrance.
“Abandon hope, all ye who enter here,” Obi-Wan
read, fingering his chin and looking very confused indeed. “Weird,” he muttered, then entered (abandoning
hope, as directed) and headed for the main Council meeting chamber.
It was also echoingly empty. Yaddle’s gimmer stick lay smashed to pieces against one of the
seats, but there was no sign of blood, so Obi-Wan didn’t think there’d been an
attack.
Mainly because there were also no signs of carnage,
like, say, corpses, or gore, or blaster marks, or anything. Just emptiness.
It was kind of creepy.
Walking gingerly, as if the sound he made might
awaken ghosts, he stepped up to the holo-image table
in the center of the room. Normally it
was used to receive Master/Apprentice reports from far-away missions, or watch
troop movements, or late at night, to spy on the cuter apprentices working
their way through the inter-species sex ed class assignments, but today it
showed only one thing.
In a continual loop, holo-images
of Master Yoda played, break dancing in the center of a large howling mob of Wookies while wailing Wookie
techno-music played in the background and the occasional clone keeled over,
looking dead.
Horrified and afraid, having never seen anything
quite so scary as a break-dancin’ Yoda, Obi-Wan felt
his legendary nerve fail. He ran, almost
but not quite screaming, away from the Council chamber.
He got as far as the elevators to the main level
when he dove into one and collapsed against the cool metal wall, squeezing his
eyes shut to try to rid them of the afterimage of Yoda in black leather
spinning around on his ear-tips.
Dimly in the distance he heard an unctuous voice
wheeze, “Here is your chance, my dear toothsome young apprentice. Prove yourself to me. He should be no challenge; he’s been here
long enough to be thoroughly dusted. Go
to it!”
Finally realizing he wasn’t having aural
hallucinations to go with the images burned permanently onto his retinas,
Obi-Wan pried his eyes open to see his erstwhile apprentice, now Knight,
Anakin, staring at him from a foot away.
Wow. He’d
really been on Hoth too long. Anakin looked… hot.
Er, really good.
Yes, that’s it.
Quite stylish, really, with the flowing black cape
with the drapey black cowl and the big-ass black
leather boots. Obi-Wan realized
he was starting to pant and clamped his jaws shut before he did something
really embarrassing, like drool.
“Soooo, Master,” Anakin
purred.
Fuck clamped jaws.
Obi-Wan felt his mouth fall open and his tongue spill out.
“Ghuh?” he gurgled.
Anakin gave him a truly wicked smile that looked
strangely right at home on his angular young face, then put his fingertips
under Obi-Wan’s chin and tipped his mouth shut, being careful he didn’t catch a
tongue-tip between the teeth.
Then, in a stunning reversal of approach, Anakin
leaned forward and down and kissed Obi-Wan.
WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOo-EEEEEEEEEEee! Obi-Wan thought, but since his mouth was full of Anakin’s tongue and
it was impolite to speak with his mouth full, he didn’t actually say it.
Several long and enjoyable minutes (and one
irritated throat-clearing out in the corridor beyond the elevator doors) later,
Anakin broke the kiss. Obi-Wan leaned
against Anakin’s chest, looking glazedly up at him,
grinning like an idiot.
“Who taught you to kiss like that, Ani?” he asked.
An odd, hunted look passed over Anakin’s face. “Let’s not talk about her… er, that. So,
Obi-Wan, notice anything different about the old place?” he changed the subject
abruptly and cheerfully.
The cheer was out of place with all the black, but
he was on to something, so Obi-Wan ran with it.
“It’s empty, Anakin.”
“Ten points to the Jedi!” Anakin awarded brightly.
Obi-Wan looked at him like he was on drugs. Feeling jet-lagged, missing his Taun Tauns and confounded by
Anakin’s unexpected lip-locking talents, Obi-Wan stood dumb and waited for
Anakin to get to the point.
A few minutes later, he gave up on waiting and
asked, “What else?”
“Oh!” Anakin
started, having apparently gotten sidetracked by staring at Obi-Wan’s
mouth. “You know, I haven’t seen you
clean-shaven in years.”
“Hoth,” Obi-Wan explained,
since someone really should be explaining something and it looked like it would
be awhile before Anakin got the hint. “I
went glacier-gliding. Frozen beards
suck, so I shaved it all off. Plus, the
ventilator masks work much better when they adhere to skin.”
“It looks…” Anakin trailed off and stared some
more. “…dimple…” he whimpered.
Obi-Wan twitched.
It was getting hot in the elevator.
He rubbed his jaw and squinted at Anakin. Maybe it was Anakin? Anyway…
“Yeah, I know, it makes me look like a kid. ‘S’why I keep the
face fuzz – only way to look my age.
Hard enough to get respect around here when you’re a foot shorter than
everybody else to begin with, except Yoda, and I don’t want to think about him…
Anakin?”
Anakin had drifted off, and drifted closer. Then damned if he didn’t
kiss Obi-Wan again.
It was a struggle (mainly because his arms didn’t
want to move from their place clamped around Anakin’s waist and because Anakin
had a hold on him an octopus would envy) but eventually Obi-Wan managed to
break the kiss and gasp for air.
Evading incoming Anakin-lips with something like
despair, he cried, “Anakin!”
“Obi-Wan!” Anakin cried in return.
“Oh, for God’s sake,” came a disgruntled wheezy
voice in the corridor.
“What’s going ON here?” Obi-Wan demanded.
“Well,” Anakin answered slowly, “we’re kissing… and
then maybe we can-“
“I meant with the
“Oh, that,” Anakin remembered, blushing slightly.
“Aye, that,” Obi-Wan prodded, his brogue coming through
in his exasperation.
Anakin shivered in response but managed to get out,
“
“Shite!” Obi-Wan yelped,
tearing himself from Anakin’s arms and whipping his light saber out. It ignited, long and bright and gleaming,
with no hesitation, and he heaved a great sigh of relief.
“Scared me,” he told Anakin. “Thought I might be
suffering with saberectile dysfunction.”
Anakin’s eyes were huge, matching his mouth,
hanging open as he licked his lips. “Oh,
master,” he whispered, “you ARE strong!”
“Yes, I bloody well am,” whined the wheezy voice,
coming closer to the elevator, “and if you don’t get a move on I’m going to
come in there and show you just HOW strong!”
“Eh?” asked Obi-Wan.
“Oops,” said Anakin.
“Well?” Obi-Wan demanded, beginning to lose the
thread, thin as it was, and getting really, really hot in the close confines of
the elevator.
Anakin. Leather. Anakin. Kissing. Howl.
“Well, it’s like this,” Anakin rapidly
explained. “I’m the one chosen to bring
balance to the Force and the way the Force decided to do that was to eliminate
all the Jedi except for two, that’d be you and Yoda, and the Sith, that’d be me
and Lord Sidious out there, champing at the bit in the corridor. So, given that you and I are the only young
and sexy Force-users left in the galaxy, what say we blow this abandoned
Jedi-stand and go make hot Force-driven monkey love somewhere in the pleasure
domes of Coruscant City?”
“You’re suggesting…” Obi-Wan thought about it,
“that we explore the intersection of Light and Dark in the service of the
Force?”
“Um, yeah,” Anakin agreed slowly, not really
following the philosophy but liking the gleam in Obi-Wan’s eye, “just as long
as there’s fucking somewhere in it.”
Obi-Wan beamed at him. “I can work with that!” He dove for Anakin’s sexy leather belt.
“Here?” Anakin asked, his voice rising
an octave as Obi-Wan found his jewels through the layers of black cloth with
the swift skill of a two dollar hooker with a time limit.
“What’s wrong with the elevator?” Obi-Wan’s query
was muffled by the fact that he was unfastening Anakin’s trousers with his
teeth.
Anakin, not the brightest of thinkers even when all
his blood wasn’t rushing to his crotch, decided to go with the Force and worry
about the rest of it later.
Several kisses on multiple body parts and a good
few gropes later, Anakin got tired of the harrumphing out in the corridor and
locked the door to the elevator. Neither
one of them saw the light of day for many hours, by which time they were
well-ensconced in the Grey of the Force and loving every minute of it.
Meanwhile in the Corridor Outside
the Elevator in the
“Apprentice?” Sidious whined, unable to break the Force lock on the elevator
doors. “Kenobi? Can’t I just watch? I promise I won’t touch anything…” He huffed a
scaled-down maniacal laugh, not having the energy for the full-throated version
after clawing at the doors for hours.
The thump of a stick against his ankle made him
jump and screech in agony. When the pain
tears cleared from his eyes he looked down.
From the vicinity of his knee, bright malevolent green eyes between
multi-pierced floppy ears glared up at him.
Oooooh. Yoda. In leather.
Sidious’ eyes lit up and purple lightning began to
dance off his fingertips (and other extremities). Yoda gave him a filthy look and backed up,
holding his stick up in a defensive position.
“Even think about it, you will not!” he snarled.
Damn. Some
days it just didn’t pay to be a Sith Lord.
…END…