Headcanon: sometimes Jedi talk directly to the Force and they’re just …talking. Out loud. Sometimes in a skyward direction. Sometimes elsewhere. Just clearly not at anyone else around. And not like polite or prayerfully or anything. Like “where is it? where - oh, there it is, thank you!”, “are you karking serious?”, “So what do you think?”, “is this a good idea? My master said it was, but I wanted to check with you”, “You couldn’t have told me this earlier?”, “Suuure we’ll go into the creepy cave just because you said it’s fine, not like we have massively different understandings of what fine means”, “Hey, could you pass me that? …Thanks”, “Meddle I will not, if meddle you do not”, etc.
The way I never realized the hotel room Nellie stays in before she goes to the House has the window curtains drawn to look like the window of the Red Room I-
I love their temple, I love their philosophies, I love their robes and the different ways they all dress, I love their lightsabers, I love how they're always trying to help others, I love how they support each other, I love how caring and compassionate they are, I love their way of life, I love their Council, I love all the different ways they use the Force, I love the relationships they have with each other, I just-
“disney/fans keep making more jedi characters that exist in after-order 66′s jedi purge in their comics/movies/games/tv/novels/fanfic/fanart and it doesnt make sense bc it takes away the weight/impact of the Jedi Purge”
Okay, but have you ever read upon real-world attempted genocides? They are often carried out by people in power with the full intent of exterminating people of one ethnicity/faith/etc, and the numbers are always staggering, terrifying. But what do most of them have in common? They FAIL to truly exterminate their target group.
Obi-Wan’s work to cut off the transmission beacon calling all Jedi to Coruscant stalled Palpatine’s attempt to lure them to the clone trooper’s deadly aim. Bail Organa tried (unfortunately failing) to save a padawan kid. Even at the apogee of the Purge Order, there were already people fighting against it.
Some people that had been working to the Republic and still believed in the Republic’s ideals during the transition to the Empire might’ve done their part in jamming a few cogs in the machine. Officials might’ve issued out fake death certificates. Non-Jedi citizens might’ve smuggled Jedi survivors in their ships simply because it was the right thing to do. Border patrol agents might’ve looked the other way, allowing them passage to the Outer Rim. Tailors could be making regular clothes to clone refugees to make them look less suspicious out of their robes. People could be rushing to issue marriage certificates and swear on the Maker that ‘these two have been married for decades, officer, this is no jedi, he’s been a farmer all his life, we all know him since he was a boy’.
Genocide attempts often fail because they don’t account for the inherent wish to help and care for others that resides in all people’s hearts. They rely on an empty expectation that literally everyone will ostracize and snitch on the refugees and runaways, that no one will be compassionate enough to adopt, marry, smuggle, feed, protect an innocent victim of persecution.
So, yeah, of course the Purge caused a great many losses to the Jedi community, and of course that is important to the Star Wars story as a whole. But in a story that spans across an entire universe with countless planets, moons, etc… who is to say how many survived, or how many were born force-sensitive but never taken to the temple? There are countless possibilities.
So pick your favorite and start writing that fanfic you’ve been wanting to.
I honestly have no idea what this bunch of word vomit is. I guess writing at three o'clock in the morning after a long shift at work was a bad idea. Though a good one at the time. ANYWAY, I hope you enjoy the angst....cause that's all that this is.
No beta...blah blah...typos...blah blah
-H
Masterlist
Leonard McCoy had a horrible feeling that everything was going to go wrong. Again. He stood by the transporter pad with his arms crossed, his usual scowl firmly on his face. His sour look grew as James T. Kirk sauntered into the room wearing his customary grin. Spock followed the Captain in dutifully, hands clasped neatly behind his back.
Kirk took one look at his CMO and his grin widened, he walked over to his best friend and clapped him on the shoulder. “Ready Bones?” Jim’s voice practically oozed excitement. McCoy rolled his eyes at his friend,
“Yeah, I’m ready to get back to the small mountain of reports I need to finish in my office.” he groused giving the captain a half-hearted glare. Jim gave a little shrug as he holstered his phaser. “Oh come on Bones, that sounds so boring! Besides we need you down there, right Spock?”
The Vulcan raised a slanted brow at the captain’s antics, “It was indeed reported that the planet’s plant life holds medicinal properties.” he agreed with a slight tilt to his head. McCoy clicked his tongue in annoyance. Upon hearing the sound Spock continued,
“Doctor in the future if you wished to not ‘be buried’ by paperwork, you should complete it in a timely fashion.”
Kirk pressed his lips into a thin line and met eyes with Scotty who was standing by at the transporter controls. The Scot looked a bit hopeful but his hopes were in vain.
McCoy set his jaw and gritted his teeth against the slew of insults and obscenities he wanted to hurtle toward the half Vulcan. He had been practicing restraint, members of the crew were beginning to grow concerned about Spock after the last time Leonard had lost his temper with him. Jim had gotten quite a few complaints, and McCoy had dealt with quite a few scathing looks and comments in common areas. He heard through the grapevine that quite a few crewmen disliked the ship’s CMO and his bedside manner and refused to even see him. Doctor M’Benga tried to reassure Leonard that the crew just needed some time to get used to him but McCoy wasn’t so sure. He was having flashbacks to Atlanta and all the problems he had there.
To keep crew morale up McCoy avoided the Vulcan whenever he could and when he couldn’t he kept his mouth shut. If he were being honest he avoided all common areas of the ship and kept to his cabin or sickbay. It was better for everyone if he just closed himself off unless he was with Jim of course.
He knew the real reason why Jim wanted him to go on this away mission. He wanted to get him and Spock to hash things out, and for McCoy to stop isolating himself. Leonard wasn’t confident it was going to work, and Spock obviously has no interest in talking with him.
Taking a deep breath McCoy turned away from the first officer without a word and stood on the transporter pad. ‘Let’s just get this over with,’ he thought tiredly with drooped shoulders. Scotty shot Kirk a saddened look as Spock looked perplexed. The first officer was emotionless and stoic but his human eyes flashed with concern.
Kirk jumped up onto the pad next to the unusually quiet doctor and chewed on the inside of his cheek. Spock followed giving McCoy space by standing on the opposite side of the transporter pad. And with a sighed “Energize,” the trio was gone in a humming swirl of gold.
After they disappeared Scotty pressed his lips into a thin line, he shook his head. “If they don’ figure out this shite soon the Enterprise is gonna lose her heart.”
----------oOo----------
Leonard blinked away the golden shimmer of the transporter and breathed through his nausea. Wrinkling his nose at the sudden humidity McCoy couldn’t help but feel a little homesick. Only a little. As much as he loved Georgia, Georgia didn’t much love him.
Turning he saw Jim, hands on his hips gazing at the horizon in awe. The sky was an impressive shade of lilac with clouds of soft orange. The sun was setting and McCoy had to begrudgingly admit, it was a beautiful sight. At the Captain’s side was Spock, ever patiently waiting for his commanding officer to get his head out of the clouds and to the task at hand. Grumbling under his breath McCoy pulled out his tricorder from his kit and walked in the opposite direction. Not so far to be out of sight but far enough to remove himself.
His tricorder beeped cheerily, glancing down Leonard cocked his head to the side curiously. ‘That’s not a plant,’ he thought with furrowed brows. Looking up from the tricorder Leonard crouched and peered into the bushes. After a second he stopped and rolled his eyes to the sky,
“Good lord I spend way too much time with Jim,”
Quickly standing up Leonard turned his mouth just opening slightly to call for his infant best friend. It didn’t come out as expected. Instead of calling Jim over, Leonard let out a startled yell. The ground beneath him was no longer there and then he was falling.
“Bones!”
The captain rushed over to where the CMO was suddenly swallowed by the ground. Falling to his knees Jim looked down the sinkhole trying to see through the darkness. “Bones!” he called again his voice betraying his worry. A low groan and a slew of creative curses from multiple different races echoed up to him. Jim relaxed ever so slightly breathing a sigh of relief.
Turning Jim saw Spock looking at his tricorder with the Vulcan equivalent of a confused frown.
“What is it, Spock?”
“It appears Captain that this planet has lifeforms.”
Kirk frowned his gaze flitting from the hole in the ground that held his CMO to his first officer and back again. “Please tell me that the lifeforms live above ground,” the captain whispered trying his best to keep his voice down.
“What the fuck did you just say? Lifeforms?” McCoy’s voice echoed as it carried up the surface. Jim winced cursing his CMO’s hawk-like hearing that would make a Vulcan curious. Spock cocked his head to the side,
“Doctor do you see-”
“No, I don’t fucking see anything it’s pitch black!”
Jim shook his head a small smirk on his face. “Bones are you okay? Anything broken?”
There was a long pause. “I’m fine. No need to worry about me. There’s a tunnel here and I can hear the ocean. Must be a way out,” by the tone of his best friend’s voice Jim knew that he was lying about something.
“Bones, what’s broken?” Kirk asked again using his “I’m the captain so you better not lie to me” voice. But there was no reply. Spock leaned over the sinkhole his eyes squinting against the darkness.
“He’s gone, captain,”
Kirk groaned at his first officer’s words. “Damnit Bones! And he calls me reckless,” he muttered running a hand through his hair. His head snapped up when he out of his peripheral saw Spock lowering himself down into the sinkhole.
“Spock-”
“Captain, the doctor is injured and by my tricorder readings, something is wrong with his physiology. I have the best chance of finding him while you get help from the Enterprise.”
Jim wanted to argue but he just couldn’t, he knew Spock was right. Cursing under his breath Jim watched as his first officer slowly climbed down into the sinkhole.
“This is going to end badly I just know it,” Kirk muttered whipping out his communicator.
---------oOo----------
Everything hurt and it was dark; those were the first two thoughts that ran through Leonard McCoy’s mind as he regained consciousness. He didn’t even remember passing out in the first place. The last thing he recalled doing was crawling through dirt tunnels looking for a way out, any way out. God, he hated small spaces.
Forcing himself to slow his breathing down Leonard took stock of his body and his mind. He remembered beaming onto the planet, he remembered falling, he remembered his leg snapping like a damn toothpick, and he remembered…
Was it an animal of some sort?
Something had -- he recalled with mild trepidation -- a small creature snuffling and hissing in the darkness. He kept as still as he could but falling dirt and rock landed on his leg causing him to yell and curse. He must have scared the thing because the next thing he knew a new kind of pain joined all of the other ones.
That’s when his memories began to blur together. He must have talked to Jim and Spock, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember what they said. His whole being screamed for him to get away.
Gritting his teeth Leonard squeezed his eyes shut forcing nausea and the pain away. Swallowing hard he opened his eyes but he only saw dirt. Saw dirt. Startled McCoy whipped his head around toward an obvious source of light. Screaming out at the twinge of pain in his leg Leonard reached for the light. His body burned, his head swam, and his veins ran black. He needed to get out.
Something pressed on him. Kept him down, kept him away from the light, from freedom. Thrashing Leonard tried to push away the thing holding him down, he needed to get out before it was too late. The light was fading, his vision was once again going black. Screaming out in pain Leonard panicked, his mind muddled and throbbing. He could only hear his heart pounding in his ears and whispers. So indistinct and muffled that he wasn’t even sure they were real.
Whatever was holding him down spread over him like a hot blanket.
Doctor.
McCoy kept struggling he was so panicked that he had forgotten the injury to his leg, and even when he remembered he no longer cared. ‘Get Out, Get Out, GET OUT!’ was all he could think. His breathing came out in gasps, his heart was beating out of his chest and everything felt so warm. Way too warm. Was he poisoned again?
Doctor you must cease moving!
The voice inside Leonard’s head wasn’t his own and the sudden intrusion didn’t put him at ease. He felt a sense of calm that was not his own trying to push past his barriers. Not trusting the feeling he pushed it away mentally and physically.
Leonard stop.
The simple use of his name made McCoy freeze and made his mind, less hazy, like a bucket of cold water was tossed on him. The feeling of calm once again washed over him and he let it. The doctor in him practically screamed and cursed his own stupidity. His leg was so jostled that the bone must have been sticking out by now -- and by the feel of warm wetness on his calf that was definitely the case -- and his heart rate was way too high. Shifting McCoy gasped and almost choked. Blood coated the inside of his mouth and was working its way down his throat. A warm hand gripped his shoulder and as gently as possible helped Leonard onto his side. He gagged spitting the blood onto the ground. Black and red mingled with his spit as he coughed and choked into the dirt.
His ears were still ringing but he had no trouble in recognizing Spock’s emotionless tone. “Doctor there is an alien venom in your system. We must get you to medical at once,”
Leonard chuckled dryly his emotions were all over the place. At first, he wanted to escape the dark, but now? Now, he just wanted to lie there and let the venom do its work. ‘Why bother get onto a tin can where everyone hates me anyway?’ he thought bitterly. The Vulcan beside him stiffened and Leonard inwardly cursed.
Spock’s grip tightened on McCoy’s shoulder and the Vulcan bowed his head. “I am sorry you feel that way doctor,” he whispered letting a minuscule amount of emotion leak out of his voice. McCoy glared at the general direction of Spock growling out,
“No one told ya to peep into my head!”
Spock’s hand was lifted away from him in a flash as if the doctor’s words burned him. Leonard gritted his teeth and let out a tired sigh, “I’m sorry Spock. Just things have been a bit strained lately.” he admitted. The first officer checked his tricorder as he answered,
“I have heard from sources that the crew seem to shy away from your bedside manner doctor,”
McCoy barked out a strained humorless laugh, “You mean you heard from Uhura that I have been an asshole, so much that the whole crew wants to shove me out of an airlock,”
Spock raised an eyebrow cocking his head to the side considering, “Not the whole crew,” he said dryly. Another laugh bubbled up from Leonard’s throat; shaking his head he licked his lips. “I’m sorry if I’ve been especially snappish to you lately, guess you’re the closest target I got so…” McCoy trailed off with a grimace. The apology fell flat.
Spock chose his words carefully before speaking, “Doctor, I believe that quoting the Captain is apt in this circumstance. So, ‘don’t worry about it Bones,’ “
McCoy was stunned into silence. Still struggling for a decent lungful of air he sat there gaping like a fish. As if he read the CMO’s mind, Spock lifted him up into a sitting position in an attempt to help him breathe easier. Once that was done he got to work on examining his heavily damaged leg. The tense silence was all he needed to know. Squinting he looked at it hissing in anger. Anger at himself.
“That’s gonna need surgery. Won’t be walking without a cane for a good couple of weeks,” he muttered his voice clinical, detached. Leonard chuckled humorlessly his gaze going from his leg to his hands. Turning them slowly he looked at his once blue veins. They were completely black now.
With a sigh, he murmured under his breath, “If I make it that long,”
A strong hand gripped his shoulder making Leonard look up in surprise. Spock was giving him a look that McCoy could only describe as human. There were so many different emotions flickering across his face to pick just one. “Doctor we will make it back. As you have told me many times before, ‘have faith,’. “
As if his words were magic Leonard felt the nauseating pull of the Enterprise’s teleporter. When he opened his eyes again he saw Jim looming over him with concern written all over his face. McCoy wanted to reassure his friend but his mouth was so dry and the words caught in his throat. Quickly shifting onto his side Leonard coughed violently, he couldn’t breathe and the voices that tried to calm him were distant didn’t mean a thing.
A sting and hiss sent him into oblivion.
It was a solid three days later when McCoy woke up that he found out his anxiety and thoughts of the crew hating him were unfounded. When he woke he got a lecture from Jim in a major mocking manner -- his southern accent is terrible -- before he was shown a PADD filled to the brim with “Get Well Soon!” messages. Over two hundred he had read and responded too and he still wasn’t done.
Spock had come to visit him as well and they talked about a lot of things. Books, music, work, and hobbies. The Vulcan had even offered to teach him to play chess, to which Leonard smirked and offered to teach him poker in return.
They verbally sparred often and soon enough the crew became accustomed to it. And placed bets much to Spock’s dismay. Leaning against the doorframe to an open rec room Leonard smile softly at his friend, though at this point they were more family than anything else. They talked, laughed, teased, as they waited for him. It was a weekly dinner and game night. Jim’s idea. Coughing lightly he entered the room he felt warmth burst through his chest at the happy greetings and cheers. He has missed the last dozen or so of these nights and he now he didn’t plan on missing anymore if he could help it.
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