Hello friends, here’s something I’ve wanted to do for a while–share my fanfiction here on the blog. I’ve linked to my stories on Archive Of Our Own before, but I wanted to put some of it straight here on the blog. I’ve written a few shorter pieces that will work here. These short stories have a common thread which is, admittedly, a bit morbid–I wanted to get into the head of several women Star Wars characters in their last moments. What are they thinking? Are they afraid? Hopeful? Are they full of regrets? I thought it might be interesting.

This first piece is from Satine Kryze, Duchess of Mandalore’s point of view. It’s the exact scene in the Clone Wars (Season 5, Episode 16) in which Maul kills her in front of Obi-Wan to exact his revenge. There is a story in the book Stories of Light and Dark that does the same thing, but from Obi-Wan’s point of view (it’s a great story), but I wanted to get Satine’s perspective.

Here’s the story:

I Have Loved You Always

All I ever wanted was peace.

Peace for Mandalore. For my people. To end our constant, destructive aggression. I accomplished this for a time. A blink in the eye of Mandalorian history. I am proud of that accomplishment.

But now, all has come to violence and ruin.

I am bound and kneeling beside the vile creature Maul as he sits on the throne–my throne!–with the traitor Almec on my right, and a terrifyingly gigantic yellow Dathomirian zabrak to my left. As Maul brings Obi-Wan to the throne room, I know all is lost. Mandalore. Peace. My life. Yes, he will kill me to hurt Obi-Wan. To make his enemy suffer, and fulfill his burning need for revenge. Whatever his aims are in Mandalore–and he has several–Obi-Wan’s pain is chief among them.

As Obi-Wan is brought before us, I vow this: I will not be the tool to bring about Obi-Wan’s downfall. For I know that Maul wants not only Obi-Wan’s pain, but the eradication of all that is good in him as well.

No matter what Obi-Wan is–a Jedi, a general, a hero, a warrior, a man, my love–yes, here at the end, I will call him my love–he is a being of Light. A jedi’s existence is meant to hold the Light within himself; it is the reason I gave him up so long ago. He only recently admitted that he would have given up the Order for me, if I had asked. But I didn’t ask. I knew then, as I suspect he did as well, that our love could not compete with his calling. We could have ruled Mandalore together, brought peace and prosperity–and perhaps Maul would not be here now. Instead, our children’s laughter would have filled these halls.

But he always would have been haunted by what he gave up. The Order is his family, his life. The Light within him–the Force–serves a higher purpose, and he would have felt that loss. I could not do that to him.

And I won’t do it now. I must warn him, exhort him not to fall for Maul’s machinations. It would give this creature of darkness the greatest satisfaction to see his Light extinguished. A vindication for his false superiority, for he envies Obi-Wan’s strength in the Light. I understand him. He thinks me weak; Death Watch thinks me weak; even Obi-Wan at one point thought my pacifism naive.

But they’re all wrong.

There he is now, in his stolen red Mandalorian armor–so handsome, even as he fights despair. Even now, my heart skips a beat when I see him. Ever since his mission with Master Qui-Gon so long ago, to protect me during the Mandalorian Civil War.

Stars, we were so young then! But we knew who we were, and we came to know each other. Peril boiled us down to essentials, and we liked what we saw. He was young and brave, so desirous to gain his Master’s approval and praise, but always questioning him. He was also often brash and arrogant. But I suppose I was, too. We bickered, we challenged each other, he saved me more than once–and dropped me while doing it!–but I forgave him, because I saw the Light in him. When the war was over and I returned to the seat of Mandalore, our parting was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do–and I’ve had many challenges over the years. But he would become a great Jedi Knight, and I–I would rule Mandalore and bring about a long-overdue peace. We each had a destiny to fulfill–without each other.

And now this demon of the dark has us both at his mercy. The creature is speaking now, taunting Obi-Wan, gleeful in his triumph. “You’re noble flaw is a weakness shared by you and the Duchess.” Suddenly I am lifted off the ground by an unseen force, an invisible hand wrapping around my throat. “You should have chosen the dark side, Master Jedi.”

“Obi-Wan,” I choke out, feet flailing, my fingers prying at the vise tightening around my neck.

Obi-Wan, kneeling between two guards, looks up at Maul, anger darkening his expression. No! No, stay calm, I want to shout, but I can’t find the breath.

“Your emotions betray you,” Maul says silkily. “Your fear, and yes, your anger. Let your anger deepen your hatred.”

“Don’t listen to him, Obi–” I somehow croak out, delving deep for the last of my strength.

“Quiet,” growls the yellow zabrak in warning.

And then Obi-Wan speaks: “You can kill me, but you will never destroy me. It takes strength to resist the dark side. Only the weak embrace it.”

My heart soars–he will not fall. My love, my Obi–he is strong.

“It is more powerful than you know,” Maul snarls.

“And those who oppose it are more powerful than you’ll ever be,” Obi-Wan retorts.

These words agitate Maul, and I feel the grip at my throat tightening. Obi-Wan must panic, as he reconsiders his tactics. “I know where you’re from,” he says in a calmer tone. “I’ve been to your village. I know the decision to join the dark side wasn’t yours. The Nightsisters made it for you.”

But he’s made a critical error; his attempt at compassion backfires and enrages Maul. “Silence! You think you know me? It was I who languished for years thinking nothing but you, nothing but this moment, and now the perfect tool for my vengeance is in front of us. I never planned on killing you. But I will make you share my pain, Kenobi.”

Everything happens very quickly then. I’m starting to see spots before my eyes, but the snap-hiss of a lightsaber cuts across the room, and I see Obi-Wan’s horror-stricken face as I rush through the air towards him, towards the darkly glittering blade before us. The Dark Saber.

Pain, heat, as it pierces my middle, and a strangled sound comes out of me, the vise gone from my neck; and then I fall to the cold stone floor. “Satine!” I dimly hear Obi-Wan call out.

I look up through a cloud of pain, and he is there, holding me tenderly, as he never could before. To have his face be the last I ever see–such a blessing here at the end!

“Remember, my dear Obi-Wan,” I manage to say, reaching up to touch his face, “I have loved you always. And I always will.”

He begins to fade. Or rather, I begin to fade. For a brief moment, I recognize the deep irony of me, the pacifist Mandalorian, dying a violent death upon the Dark Saber. Perhaps my opponents will find it fitting and deeply satisfying. But I feel no pain now, only peace, the peace I have fought so long for. Let him be safe from the Dark, I pray–to the gods, to the Force, to the stars–my last thought, then–

Light.

So much Light.