Itâs good, to have Darra around - Heraâs used to be alone in the cockpit ready to take off when needed, but having company makes the monitoring much better. She smiles with pride at the compliments her friends give to her team, making a mental note to inform them later on.Â
â Bet you that theyâll last less than an hour before calling us in panic because Ezra changed the plan, â Hera says, only half-joking. Such events always happened almost on cue by now.Â
"Was gonna say an hour felt optimistic," Darra says with a smirk, "but I forgot to take travel time into account. An hour's about right. Which means..." she checks the time, "we've got about ten minutes more to wait. So what do you think it'll be? Ezra found a secondary objective that must be done? Or will one of them get spotted and force someone - either Ezra or Sabine, most likely - to come up with a clever, extremely visible escape path?"
at least things seem to be going smoother than our last op.
âDonât jinx it,â Hera snarled, focusing on her shipâs controls. Things were getting smoother, yes, but staying on this impression was a mistake. One of the kids or Kanan was about to mess up with the plan any minute now.Â
âI donât seem to remember if we've ever had one smooth op.â
Darra opens her mouth to provide an example, then pauses, mouth still open. For as many ops as this fledgling rebellion has done - and for the odds being so consistently stacked against them - it's honestly a little surprising how few have outright failed. Her mouth closes into a slight grin.
"I did say smooth-er," she answers lightly. "But you're right. Plenty of time for me to be proven wrong. Still. Your team are uniquely adept at hitting the ground running; even if we don't get smooth, we'll get successful. And that's what's important in the end."
War that kills people. War that destroys, that wastes, that ruins. Their planets, their soldiers, their republic, and as Tru looks at Darra, it can not be more obvious that it destroys them, too.
Itâs changing Darra, this war.Â
It puts weight in her chest, much sorrow in her eyes, frustration, disappointment.
But he thinks, sadly, bitterly, who would not be changed? They all were.
They were put into this position of command, always one step from making the wrong decision, a wrong call on strategy, a miscalculated order, every move had so much impact⊠They bent backwards to make the best of it - He is certain Darra did,
But it is war.
It has a price.
Tru can feel echoes of it, ripples of anger that radiate from his friend in the Force, just as clear as the sound of Darraâs fist against the wall.
âI understand this now.â Tru grimaces. âThat day master Windu warned us about becoming close with the troops, he was trying to spare us from this. This grief. This guilt. Iâm so sorry.â
The messed up thing is they could replace platoons, they could request new squads, again, and again, but they could not replace the lost bonds. Maybe in the end, it was best not to make them, but it is not the right thing to tell Darra. Not now. It would be callous, she is already hurting so much.
âYou honor them when you get back up⊠is what I like to think. At least, it makes going back a little easier. They would do the same for us. You pick yourself up and move forward, you carry their sacrifices.â He sighs. âIt will not bring them back, but if we stop, really stop.... what do you think happens then?â
He was trying to spare us from this grief. Darra sits with this sentence for a moment, and then wonders... How can I? Growing up in the Temple, making friends was always easy for her. For all the talk of attachment being forbidden to the Jedi, they certainly didn't explain how not to. And for Darra, finding connections with her fellow trainees had always been as easy as breathing. How else could she have befriended both Anakin and Ferus, when the pair were so often posturing like rivals. It wasn't something she could just... turn off. She had once been willing to give her life to save a friend's. Still was.
But that was why this was so hard in the end, wasn't it? The clones - her friends - had died because the situation they'd flown into was far different from what they'd been told it was going to be. It wasn't her fault, it wasn't theirs, it was just... she grimaces and shoves aside the thought, the will of the Force. Because how could the Force will this much death? This was not the will of the Force. This was bad luck and bad intelligence, bad planning.
But Tru is right. You honor them when you get back up. They would do the same for us. Darra wonders bitterly for a moment if they truly would if they were given another option. But they're clones; as unique and individual as they all are, they were bred for a single purpose: to fight this war.
This war? Darra wonders at that thought for a moment, but can't figure out what it is about it that bothers her. Regardless, the clones are built for fighting. And how would they feel if their General, their friend turned her back on the fight?
They would feel betrayed. And they would be right to.
She laughs humorlessly. "Everybody pack up and go home. One of the Republic's Jedi Generals is feeling bad about her losses. Time to call off the war."
She actually does smile at the absurdity. "The war will go on," she says softly. "With or without us. But..." She lets out a faint sigh. "If the Order were to back out, the Republic would have a scramble to find qualified generals to replace us. That alone could tip the balance of the war in the Separatists' favor. If one General left, same thing. If on a significantly smaller scale."
For a moment, she falls silent, still half-slumped against the wall. Slowly, deliberately, she pushes off the wall and rises to her full height, though still somewhat shorter than Tru. Her expression is calm and she nods once.
"Against all feelings to the contrary..." she says slowly, "I think I may just be right where I'm supposed to be." She catches one of Tru's hands and gives it a gentle squeeze as the door to the Council Chambers opens to admit her.
"Thanks, Tru," she says softly. "I'll see you later."
Hera decides she likes Darra, because not everyone asks her the question Darra just asked. The way to the child's heart was an easy one, talk about starships and you're good to go and have her be chatty for a good hour or so. Or more, if there was no sign of tiredness or boredom from the other. Usually, people knew not to get her started on that topic, so she kept the knowledge and dreams for herself. But Darra asked, so Hera replied happily.
"I like the Delta-7. They're fast, but the T-6 is comfier." She had had the opportunity to follow her new Master into both, and he even let her take the commands of the T-6, once, because they weren't anywhere near the frontlines. Hera nodded as Darra gave her advice, there was no rush for anything, even though being chosen by someone like Master Kenobi was scary.
"I think it will be!" she said with enthusiasm, even though she dreaded the endless dueling lessons as she was still struggling with finding balance due to her lekku that were more annoying than useful. She tilted her head though, pensive. "He doesn't look like someone who likes a lot of people. Except for Artoo." Which she understood well. Sometimes droids were better company than beings, but she had her friends in the Temple, when Anakin didn't seem to have any of these.
Darra laughs at Hera's guess that Anakin doesn't like many beyond his droid companion. "He does seem to mostly like people who are a lot like him. Impulsive and clever. Artoo's both." He also likes to feel needed, she mused to herself, but did not say this aloud. There's a point past which talking about someone else becomes mere gossip, and not helpful, and Darra wonders if perhaps she's crossed that line with some of the things she's said. Best to let this drop.
She tilts her head to one side, thoughtful for a second, then says, "I'm not familiar with the T-6," she confesses. "Tell me about it?"
use ask meme replies as starters. if starter calls stress you out, encourage your followers to send memes instead! that way you can pick and choose which meme suits you best, searching for the little sentence prompt in your inbox that most inspires you in the moment. at the same time, not every ask meme reply needs to be continued. sometimes they make better one-shots and drabbles, and that's okay! as long as you and your writing partners are having fun creating and telling stories together, that's all that matters!
It's been too long, Darra realizes as she lifts her head to gaze in the direction the Mandalorian girl is pointing. Under ordinary circumstances, the appearance of an Imperial light cruiser, let alone two would not be cause for the words, "Don't worry," but this pair - both painted a deep forest green - are a sight for sore eyes. Darra hasn't seen her people in almost two years now - they had agreed that having a former Jedi aboard was too much heat, brought too much attention to the self-titled "Traitor Fleet."
Their numbers now dwindling to a mere two ships, they still hold the name as a badge of pride: "We defy those we once served and seek to bring about a better galaxy." She's heard rumors now of other ships following their lead, other traitor fleets rising up in opposition of the Empire, but they're hard to follow. More and more, it's difficult to tell which stories are true and which are the Empire's agents trying to draw them out. But this. This feels right.
Darra smiles faintly, feeling as though something is drawing nearer. Rebel cells are becoming connected, slowly but surely. This is the next step in that: the Traitor Fleet would join the Rebellion. She'd made sure of it. That was her part to play.
"Good," she says aloud. "Very good indeed."
She missed her people, she's surprised to realize. She smiles faintly, wondering what her old Master would say at the realization that she's become... attached.
"They'll come down and hover over the flatlands there," she says, pointing. "They're as cautious of your group as you are of theirs. From there, they'll see any possible threat coming, and be prepared to respond, or to flee." She grins and starts walking in that direction. "So I'll make sure they see me first."
Hera only knows what the ships are like because she might have gone inside them once or twice â more than that actually, sneaking in the hangar bay after hours when no one is there is her favorite thing to do when at the Temple.
She isnât there too much these days, not since Master Kenobi chose her (itâs too early in her apprenticeship to even try to call him by his first name, it still feels odd).
â Oh, â Hera replies with a tilt of her head. The ships Darra is talking about do look huge, so she understands why the other wouldnât fly them. â I wanted to go to the Pilot Corps before Master Kenobi chose me. We can go see him together when heâs done if you want! â
Sure, Hera doesnât know if heâll even have time to talk at all, but they can try. She frowns at how Darra describes him though, it looks like what sheâs seen of him so far, butâŠ
â Iâm not sure if I can do him justice. And Anakin doesnât like me. â
"I'd like that," Darra says with a smile at the suggestion they could go to see Obi-Wan together. "Pilot Corps, huh? What kind of ship do you think you'd have liked to fly most?"
When Hera worries about living up to Obi-Wan, Darra quiets a little. It reminds her a little of herself at that age, newly apprenticed to Soara Antana - a new Jedi Knight at the time, but already widely regarded as a virtuoso with a lightsaber. Darra lightly touches one hand to her chest and flicker of pain crosses her face. The wound is healed now, of course, but it's a sobering reminder of what can happen when an apprentice tries to rise to her master's level before she's ready.
"Give it time," she says to Hera. "He's not training you to turn you into another version of him. He's training you to find the best version of you. It'll take time and patience, but it's worth it."
At Hera's observation regarding Anakin, Darra smiles wryly. "I don't think he likes me much anymore either. I did kind of yell at him the last time we talked."
It is a relief. Tru watches Darra make peace with her thoughts, and he knows then that there is a shared understanding between them. Jedi duty. The unglorified, tiring part of it that all their experiences and training were preparing them for.
He also knows that another battle on the scale of Geonosis could happen anywhere tomorrow, and as much as it is a terrible thought, it is one they have to consider a reality. Yes, they would do their best. There simply wasnât an alternative.
âAlways.â He smiles back. âYou know you can talk to me any time. And I donât like this situation either, so that makes two of us.â
Tru hopes it makes Darra feel less alone. Itâs not a good thing to stay alone with worries and ideas, he knows. Heâs been there.Â
He considers Darra with his silver eyes, silent just for a brief moment. He sits cross legged on the chair now, leaning forward. He rubs his earlobe.
âWhat are they like?â He asks. âThose soldiers.â The words feel strange to say. âThe army.â Darraâs worked with them already. He didnât. âAre they for real⊠⊠clones?âÂ
That makes two of us, he says, and Darra feels... not peace, exactly, but companionship. Itâs good to have a friend to share your troubles with. Sheâs not alone, and that does make a difference. She smiles faintly and nods quietly.
When he asks about the clones, her smile widens and she nods again. âThey are clones, yes. Identical, and yet... different. Like twins, but on a... mass-produced scale.â Her nose wrinkles slightly. âThat sounds kind of horrible put that way. But the longer you spend with them, the more you can tell them apart. Many have even chosen names for themselves. Usually a spin off their numerical designation, or something theyâre good at, or a significant success in their careers.â
She pauses for a second, then says, âAsk them their names. Treat them like youâd treat a new acquaintance. Get to know them, their likes, dislikes, what roles theyâre comfortable in. Theyâll always see you as a commanding officer - they have to - but the more time you invest into knowing them, the more theyâll accept you as someone they can trust to lead them. Commander and friend.â
Hera has a hundred more questions coming through her mind about the ships â becoming a pilot is her dream, and sheâs always been a bit jealous of the Jedi that ended up in the Orderâs Pilot Corps. She and Darra just met, though, so she doesnât want to be a bother.
While she knows that if she eventually gets a starship, it will only be assigned to her and still belong to the Order because Jedi arenât supposed to actually own anything, it would still be a ship sheâd be able to fly with. And thatâs enough for her to be excited about.
â Woah, â Hera breathes, she knows what these ships look like after spending a little too much time sneaking inside various ships in the hangar bay when no one was looking around. â Are you the one flying them? â
Thatâs important to know because her Master hates flying so he usually lets the Clones do the flying on bigger ships. He only does it if he has to.
â What were they like? â She hasnât heard about Darra before â itâs not that Master Kenobi doesnât like speaking of older missions heâs been in, but Darra looks like she could have been close to Anakin. With whom Hera isnât on the best term â he doesnât talk to her unless he has to, for some reason she doesnât really understand. She nods at Darraâs question, though.
Darra smiles faintly when Hera asks absolutely no questions about the ships themselves. She knows what they are already, just by mention of their official CEC model number. The similarities between Anakin and Hera are adding up quickly in Darra's mind, further reinforced by the question of whether Darra ever flies.
"Not often," she admits. "Clone pilots have significantly more training at flying something that size than I do. But occasionally, if there's a heavy enemy fighter presence..." she gestures to one of the wedge-shaped starfighters commonly used by the Jedi generals, "I do have one of those. My reflexes are better tuned for something small and fast."
She grins at the confirmation that Obi-Wan is with the Council, and wonders to herself if perhaps she can steal a moment with him before they each depart for their respective next missions. She'll have to see about that; it would be nice to see him again.
"Obi-Wan was..." Darra's voice trails off as she thinks about it. It's strange to think that their last mission together wasn't that much more than a year and a half earlier; it feels like so much longer.
"... patient," she settles on. Obi-Wan was patient. She laughs. "Well, he'd have to be, to put up with Anakin. Reliable. Steady. Trustworthy." She pauses, thinks for a second, then shrugs and says, "A model Jedi, really. He's, I think, what we all aspire to, to some degree or another. But Anakin..." She shakes her head.
"He's talented and he knows it, which I think sometimes gets in his way a little bit. Hard to tell, the older he gets, because the older he gets, the more his skill means he wins even if he had a weak plan." She laughs slightly and shakes her head again.
"I think Anakin had - or maybe still has - a hard time figuring out the difference between the warnings of the Force and his own gut instincts. The two can coincide, of course, but with him, sometimes I wonder..."
Another brief pause, then a shrug. "But I haven't had close contact with either of them in nearly two years, I think. You might at least know Obi-Wan better than I ever did. He was never my Master."
Being home after going to her homeworld and officially meeting her family is odd, because if Hera is honest, now she doesn't really know anymore where her home his.
She's been longing to meet her parents for longer than she's been able to remember it, asking for her file as soon as she was able to go to Master Nu's archives on her own. She's always been able to remember them somehow â her mother's voice shows in her dreams, singing, and her faceless father hugs her. Fixing Chopper and spending as much of her time on him has been Hera's way of keeping her mind off of memories of her family, distracting herself from missing them. Distracting herself from grieving for a brother she barely met, too.
Master Kenobi has been warning her about not getting attached to them. As a response, Hera wondered why he thought it was a good idea to send her to Ryloth at all. They didn't have much of a choice, though, going wherever the 212th is needed. Darra's arrival is welcomed, because talking with someone will distract her from these thoughts, and Hera needs to be distracted.
â It's okay, you can stay, â Hera replies with a smile. She doesn't know whether it's convincing, but she's also focused on the task on hand. Working on Chopper's smallest circuits is the hard part. Hera's eyes open wide when the older girl mentions her ship â dreaming to become a pilot, it's something that always will catch her attention.
â Does that mean you have your own starship? â Hera says dubiously, almost forgetting to introduce herself. â I'm Hera Syndulla, Padawan to Master Kenobi.â She doesn't hide the pride on the Padawan part, because her new status is still something she's barely used to.
For a moment, Darra thinks most of her words have gone over Hera's head; she's very focused on the droid. But the moment the ships are mentioned, she sees the change in the girl's eyes, feels her excitement through the Force. But the question of ownership throws her a little; her lightsaber is the only thing she's ever felt truly belonged to her, but even that would be given back to the Jedi Order if she were to leave. Does she have anything at all?
"Well, they call them mine," she says with a slight smile and a one-shouldered shrug. "There are two, both Corellian CR90 corvettes. Somewhat modified. More space for cargo, less for personnel, improved defensive capabilities. We're actively running blockades; it wouldn't do to be shot down before we could get through."
Her eyes light up at the mention of Obi-Wan. "Ah! I'd heard he took on a new Padawan. It's very nice to meet you, Hera. My old master - Soara Antana - and I went on a series of missions with him and Anakin a few years ago, so I've had the privilege of seeing him and his training in action. You're in good hands."
She pauses, looking around the hangar bay as though expecting to see the man himself, then asks, "Is he here?"
@eatcandynotbraids asked: â what are you doing out here by yourself? â (for Hera)
Ever since Master Kenobi chose her a few months ago, Hera doesn't like being alone anymore. He's on the frontline for a battle that's too dangerous for her to come with, this time, so she's stuck alone in the Temple.
(One can argue that a Jedi is never alone because theyâre all family, but it doesnât feel the same now that sheâs been chosen)
Right now, she doesnât have any class to go to, so sheâs sneaking in the hangar bay like she always does, exploring the spaceships and working on Chopper. She hoped the droid would have been fixed in time on Ryloth â but she hasnât been able to make him turn on properly just yet.
Because sheâs been sneaking in there since sheâs been able to walk around on her own, other Jedi are used to seeing her in the hangar and donât mind her presence too much. That someone would come to speak to her surprises Hera, and she canât help but startle at the strangerâs voice.
â Iâm, uh⊠â she says softly, taken off-guard. â My droidâs damaged, so Iâm fixing him. â By herself, because Master Kenobi said that she could only keep him if she could fix him alone, and the ten-year-old is determined to do so.
It's not entirely unusual to find padawans in the hangar bay - even more common now, when they're often running errands to and from their Masters, in advance of departing for some new battleground - and Darra feels a slight pang of regret for even asking the question. But while she can see a handful of younger members of the Order from where she stands, this young Twi'lek girl is the only one who's task is directly in front of her.
Darra looks past the girl to the astromech and studies it for a moment. She's reminded briefly of her old friend Anakin - another mechanically-minded young Jedi - and she smiles faintly. No doubt, Anakin could have taken one look at this droid and told the girl exactly what was wrong with it. But Anakin is busy with the war now, and he and Darra are no longer on speaking terms either. For a moment, Darra lets herself feel a pang of loss; then she lets it go, and smiles faintly at the girl in front of her.
"Mind if I keep you company for a few minutes?" she asks. She gestures to where a handful of clones are working with a large pile of cargo containers. "My ship's not quite ready to depart yet, and I've done all of my pre-departure work."
She offers the girl her hand. "I'm Darra. Darra Thel-Tanis."
((I was writing a reply to @memcriaes for Hera, and I realized thereâs one element of Darra surviving the Final Showdown that I havenât explored much. So hereâs a couple of encounters - one with Ferus and one with Anakin - to explain why Darra no longer considers Anakin a friend. Most of it under a read more because itâs gonna get long!))
Youâre lucky to be alive, the Healers told her.
It wasnât luck, she answered, the Force sustained me. She vaguely remembered throwing herself between Ferus and Omega, remembered the horrible feeling that something had gone wrong. Then... peace...
Her next conscious memory was the quiet beeping of her own biorhythms on the Healersâ equipment in the Temple, a dull weight on her chest that made breathing difficult, a gentle hand clasped around her wrist. The corners of her mouth twitched slightly upward as she twisted her hand to return the gesture.
She heard a faint gasp, then quiet sobs and a murmured, âThank the Force.â
Slowly, deliberately, she forced her eyes open. She saw a dark-haired head with a gold streak, bent over her bed. His forehead touched their hands, and she gave his wrist a gentle squeeze.
âHey Ferus,â she said, barely more than a whisper.
âIâm sorry,â he murmured into the bed. âIâm sorry you... it was my fault. Tru and I knew his lightsaber was having trouble, and we worked on it together instead of... we should have told the Masters.â
She gave his wrist another gentle squeeze. âHey,â she said softly. âItâs done. Youâll know better next time, wonât you?â
They settled into a tense silence for a moment. Then, he said, â... there wonât be a next time.â
âIâm sorry?â
âIâve...â He stopped, considered for a moment, then said, âIâve been to see the Council. We had a very long conversation about what happened on Korriban, and... Iâve decided to pursue a life outside the Order.â
Her breath felt stolen away. âOh, Ferus...â
âPlease donât,â he said quietly. âI know many of the choices we made on Korriban were influenced by the Dark Side aura on the planet. But I donât want to use that as an excuse. I donât like what it brought out in me, and Iâll never be able to shake the understanding that thatâs in me, no matter where I am. I need...â He shook his head. âI donât know what I need... but more and more, Iâm not sure I can find it here.â
A heavy silence fell between them as Darra considered him closely. Then, with a faint sigh, a soft sob, she closed her eyes and shook her head. âIâll miss you,â she said softly.
He gave her wrist a squeeze, and said, âIâll miss you too. Iâm sorry you got hurt.â
She held his gaze firmly. âIf I could do it again, I...â She trailed off, an image flashed through her mind of severing Omegaâs arm instead of merely placing herself between him and his target. Then she shook her head. âIâd do it again. I made my choice. Iâm glad youâre alive.â
He smiled faintly. âIâm glad too,â he said. âAnd Iâm glad you didnât die to keep me that way.â
âBe well, Ferus.â
âYou too, Darra.â
~~~
A few days later, another familiar presence lingered on the fringes of her awareness. Eyes closed, she turned her head slightly toward him and said, âI can feel you staring, Anakin.â
An intense wave of guilt spread from him before he clamped down on it and moved into the room. âWhyâd you do it?â
âDo what?â
âYou...â Anakin stalled, paced back and forth at the foot of her bed for a moment, then blurted, âYou almost died!â
Agitation rolled off him in waves he couldnât control, and Darra found herself confused. What did he have to be upset over? âYes...â she answered slowly, âbut I didnât.â
âBut I shouldâve...â he started.
Her eyes narrowed. âShould have what, Anakin?â
He stalled, scuffed his boots and murmured, â... I donât know.â
Darra sighed. âIf you donât know, then maybe you shouldnât have.â
âBut Iâm supposed to be better,â he snapped.
âAnakin.â
âIf Iâm the Chosen One, then Iâm meant to-â
âAnakin!â
â- be what we all aspire to. To be the best of the best, and I-â
âAnakin!â She winced at the force of her own voice, the pain in her chest from using such strength. He recoiled at the sound.
âSorry,â he murmured.
âAnakin, what are you blaming yourself for?â she asked.
Again, she felt a wave of guilt. He studied the heavy bandages wrapped across her chest and said nothing.
A cold anger rose in her. âIs that it? Iâm injured again and you feel like you should have done something different?â
He looked away. âI...â
âEnough,â she spat. âYouâre holding something back. If you canât be honest to me, at least be honest to yourself. And if you canât let someone else - if you canât let me accept responsibility for the consequences of my actions...â She drew in a shallow breath, winced as her wounds pulled against the movement, and let it out slowly, releasing her anger with it.
â... then I donât want to see you again.â
His eyes wide, he murmured a plaintive, âDarra...â
âNo,â she said firmly. âThe weight of the galaxy is not on your shoulders, Anakin. Until you realize that, weâre done.â
A wave of grief cascaded out from him, followed by a wave of anger. Then he clamped down on both, his jaw clenched. He turned on his heel and stalked out of the room without another word. Darra exhaled slowly, letting herself feel the pain, and then letting it go.
Anakin Skywalker was no longer a friend... and she had to accept that.
Her eyes widen slightly at the observation and she clasps one hand over the other. She can't deny that why she's back at the Temple gives her good reason to be uneasy, but the shaking surprises her; she had thought she was calm, all things considered.
"Did you hear about my last battle?" she asks softly. Then without waiting to hear if he had or not, she hurries on: "Intelligence reports said a token Separatist droid force was holding the capitol city, and that a small force of clones like the one I command should have been enough to defeat them."
She draws in a breath slow and steady, and shakes her head. "They were wrong. I..." She stops, suddenly realizing her whole body is slightly trembling. It's not just her hands. "I had fifty clones with me. Only thirteen still live. Four of them will never fight again." She lets out a humorless laugh. "Born and bred to fight, and now they can't. What's left for them?"
She shivers. "I'm here to see the Council. They're going to tell me I couldn't have done any better than I did. And I know they're right, but... They're going to have me - have what's left of me and my unit - report to Kamino to refill our ranks."
One fist slams against the wall at her back. She's angry, and she's hurt, and she's letting it all out for a minute. It's not the Jedi way, but she needs this.
"Those were my friends we lost back there," she snaps. "The friends I have left lost their brothers. And we're supposed to pick ourselves up, brush ourselves off, and... and... I-I can't keep doing this, Tru. Trained to save lives, but... where in our training is this covered? We can't save everyone, I know, but how can we lose so much without losing ourselves?"
Hello! Are you asking who I'm using as a face-claim for Darra? I hope so, because that's what I'll answer! :D
The avatar:
is from (I believe) an alternate cover for the Way of the Apprentice. That's a sliver of Anakin's head there next to Darra's.
The image in her About page:
is Sophie Turner, with some edits to make her look a bit more like Darra's supposed to, tweaks to hair and eye colors.
Thanks to... oh no! @tachiisms did you make that for me? Or did @bellassan? It's been long enough now I can't quite remember. I know it was one of you, though. So to whichever of you it was, thank you! And thanks also for the series of promo banners featuring Sophie as Darra that came with it!
Here's my favorite of those, mainly because of the quote :D
(The quote is: "If you say 'no stress,' I'll bite you." :D )
Tru didnât fight on Geonosis, and it makes him strangely ashamed as much as it makes him relieved. At first he dared to wonder if the Council removed him from the mission on purpose, but the accusation is childish, he knows it was simply a matter of who was available at the short notice and he wasnât. Tan Yuster was. Tan Yuster was younger than Tru and died there. So did Lumas, so did the masters with years of experience and Tru felt the loss ripple in the Force from one end of the galaxy to another. He imagines Darra couldnât have had an easier time when she was there - actually there - fighting in the largest battle of recent history.
And with just this one mention, Tru understands about the braid.
He rubs at his brow with the hand thatâs been propping his cheek and takes a silent long breath, his eyes drop in a soft somber shade of gray not at all like someone who would joke about hairballs.
âRy-Gaul got summons from the Council too. Theyâre giving him- us- a âbattalionâ⊠All that for one mission, can you believe it? Thatâs unheard of.â He frowns despite knowing it doesnât help the mood. His hand falls to the tabletop, absently beginning to fold the empty wrapping of fidga into smaller rectangles.
The republic did not even have an army last week.
âI get you. ItâsâŠ.  unsettling. Something has shifted in the galaxy and I think The Council is trying to make sense of what to do about it as much as we do and⊠wellâŠâ He stops his hands from fidgeting and instead folds one leg on his chair. âDid we train to command soldiers?â
He looks at Darra again â...No. We didnât.â
There is no point in pretending like this situation is normal.
âWe trained to protect lives though. So we will continue to do that, without these soldiers⊠or with them.â
She listens in silence as he works his way through this. The thought of Ry-Gaul and Tru at the head of so many men - what is a battalion anyway? How many men? And why does she find it so unsettling they all have the same face? Her thoughts are disjointed, unsettled, hard to pin down...
... but heâs right. They did train to protect lives. Trained their whole lives for it. In that sense, theyâre a lot like the clones theyâre now being asked to lead. But the clones were bred for combat; lives they saved were only a direct result of killing the enemy. At least the enemy are droids in this case, she muses to herself.
With a faint sigh, she returns her focus to where it should be. The Jedi trained to protect people, and there are plenty of lives being threatened now that full-scale war is upon them. Where else should the Jedi be, except between the innocents and those who would do them harm?
Slowly, her expression shifts from troubled to calm. She lets her hair fall back around her shoulders, and offers Tru the ghost of a smile.
âWeâll do everything we can,â she says softly. âThanks, Tru. It... helps to get it out of my head.â
She watched the blasterfire lance into her chest and thought, Why couldn't I block that? Numb spread over her torso as she fell. She faintly heard Soara scream her name. Something pressed against her, but she couldn't tell what it was. She felt restrained, she had to get up, she had to...
"Don't move, you're still hurt."
It took her a moment to hear his words. She froze, eyes wide, trying to see, trying to understand, and the first thing that made sense was the worried face of her friend.
"Tru," she whispered. His hands on her shoulders held her down, but there was something else... vaguely uncomfortable, pressing against her chest. Her breath came in ragged gasps, but these began to subside as she stared up at Tru.
"I... it feels like Master Yoda's sitting on my chest," she said hoarsely.
