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English
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Part 21 of June 2025 prompts
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Published:
2026-01-25
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862
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1/1
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Summary:

A specific duel at the end of 'Sacrifice' is interrupted.

Notes:

AN: In researching this I found out that Jacen Solo was in his mid-thirties during the events of ‘Sacrifice’ and threw my hands up in exasperation. Not rereading that particular book for my own peace of mind so details are what I can remember or what’s on the wiki.

Work Text:

Dean was pretty sure this was a trap. He’d been in this weird place for less than a day, he didn’t know the lay of the land, but he’d been raised by one of the most paranoid bastards on the face of the Earth and he could feel it in his bones.

It would have been nice if he’d had Sammy with him to watch his back and chime in with any lore he might be able to bring up in his filing cabinet of a brain, but Sam was safe and not here, so he would make do.

He’d seen the ship crash from his position and the other ship land, and that alone was enough to weird him out a little. Flying spaceships. Guess he’d have to learn to get comfortable with them. Maybe if he learned to fly his own ship it wouldn’t freak him out so much.

Dean loped towards the two ships. He was too far away to see if anyone had left the crashed ship, but the one that had landed properly had a black-cloaked figure emerge. He picked up his pace, because that couldn’t be good.

The guy in black disappeared into a part of the mountain that was probably a cave and Dean hurried to follow. His ‘something is hinky’ instincts were blaring, and he was definitely glad that the weapons he usually carried had come through with him.

The glowing swords were new, he’d admit. Reminded him of Star Wars, along with the clothing. The gun held in the guy’s off-hand, slightly hidden by his clothing and his stance, was not new and definitely wasn’t part of a fair fight. So Dean took a shot. Not a fatal one, he didn’t know enough about what was happening to take that risk, but something aimed at the shoulder holding the gun. Better to keep this as fair as possible and sort it all out later.

The lightsaber somehow intercepted the bullet, which promptly exploded into superheated gas and molten metal and distracted the guy enough that the woman was able to get close and remove the hand holding the weapon at the wrist (which, casual amputation from a weapon that you just carry around all the time? That was terrifying) and knock the gun away, the sound of it skittering deeper into the cave and echoing oddly.

Dean had handcuffs on hand but they weren’t going to do much good against the sudden lack of hand. “I’m guessing you don’t want him dead. Got any rope?”

“Who the kriff are you?” The man gasped out. Up close you could practically feel the bad decisions oozing off of him. He was probably about the same age as Sammy, which meant way too old to be pulling this crap. “You’re not even Force-sensitive!”

Dean lowered his gun but didn’t put it away. He’d watched Star Wars just as much as any person his age, so this could be some bullshit from a Trickster, or it could be a genuine reality hop. “Dean Winchester. You?”

“His name is Jacen. I’m Mara.” With that the woman threw a killer punch that put the guy down for the count. Mara, who was absolutely a MILF in a way that said she would probably kill him if he said the wrong thing, was looking at him with an uncomfortable amount of interest. “What brings you out this far?”

“Got separated and left behind,” Dean shrugged. It was close enough to what had happened, which was getting knocked through a portal, and he didn’t want to lie to someone who might be a Jedi. Best not to confuse things with magic bullshit just yet. “Rope?”

She tilted her head in a way that reminded him a little of Cas and then nodded. “There’s something we can use on my ship. I can help you get back to civilization, eventually, but I’ve got to get him back first.”

“Might want to gag him before he wakes up,” Dean pointed out helpfully. “Pretty sure he’s about to jump into some evil overlord crap with bullshit about how he’s the only one who can do what needs to be done.” He was entirely too familiar with that particular petulant expression on an actual grown man.

The woman turned from him to her captive, her expression turning from speculative to knowing. “You’re not wrong, but he might say something useful in there so we should probably let him talk. I had intended to kill him but this is probably better. Someone has been pulling his strings. Maybe he’ll spill something.”

Dean mentally shrugged and took a step back. In his personal experience, there was nothing of real value from that kind of crazy talk, but not his circus, not his monkeys. He wasn’t likely to stick around if it got too irritating. Although if this was something from a Trickster, who knew where this would go?

One way or another, though, Dean was going to find a way to get into the Millenium Falcon. It didn’t matter if this the work of a Trickster or real, that alone would be worth the price of admission.

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