A/N: Based on the prompt "the female of the species". Originally I intended to do all fifty of the LiveJournal prompts, but...deleted some, added some, and figured no one polices the "one sentence" rule anyway.
Gwen is my Revan- she also appears in Knights of the Rebellion.
Human women, tradition said, were linked spiritually to the moon, but Gwen felt no different on a planet without one.
Using Force lightning again was like jumping off an edge, like falling, like flying.
Juhani never quite forgave Quatra for not dying.
It was Juhani who spent the most time looking through the reams of clothing Gwen had acquired on her travels, finding the right fabric to match her striped skin.
The Jedi mindset made no sense to Yuthura because there was nothing as clear as light and dark sides in the slave quarters.
Freedon Nadd's tomb was dark and dusty as…nothing metaphorical, really—only a tomb smelled like that.
The sense of loss when she prepared to enter the Rakatan Temple without her closest friends, without Carth and Mission, was harsher than she expected.
Carth rubbed at the shaved spot on his cheek where her thrown lightsaber had nicked him before slicing into the now-slain Mandalorian in front of him. "Nice save."
Mission could drink Gwen under the table; the Twi'lek was used to the hard stuff, since the ale in the Undercity was generally considered safer than the water that filtered down from above.
Bastila was caught between having the authority of a Master and still needing to be a Padawan herself.
The rancor guarding the Vulkar base was female; they found its eggs ready to hatch.
For a moment Revan looked at Bastila and saw her new dark apprentice, grown from gawky Master-Padawan to Malak's heir—but then she looked again and saw only Bastila.
Some of her officers mocked Revan when they found out she was a woman; some of them she killed. Others she spared, because she thought a man could have killed them just as well so it proved nothing. But then, sparing them didn't either.
Gwen wondered what the Rakatan ships flown by the Force must have been like, but all that she could picture when the historian talked about "the far reaches of space" was Carth wrapping his fingers around the lever to pull the Hawk into hyperspace.
At first the crew of the Hawk all took turns cooking, but Zaalbar was best at it, and good thing too; he ate the most.
Gwen wondered if any of the Sith mourned when the Jedi supposedly killed her.
As she watched Bastila dance the death-dance with tortoise-slow armored Vulkars, no weapon but the Force in her hands, Gwen thought idly that filling one's mind with the energy of the universe might be easier for women, the life-givers.
If life creates the Force, would not children strengthen it?
It wasn't a vision, just an idle musing, when Gwen saw Yuthura dressed in the brown of the Jedi and with a Padawan pendant tucked below the bow curve of her lekku, listening attentively to Master Dorak's tales of the Sith.
"One woman," Malak said, "brought the galaxy to its knees."
Admiral Dodonna had trouble believing the Star Forge was an ancient thing when the ships is spit out were so dangerous and new.
As Juhani waited with her as they knelt quietly, waiting for the Rakatan temple to open its doors, they whispered to one another about Cathar sculpture.
"I cannot wait until this is over."
In the end Bastila did not turn to the dark side so that the pain would end; she turned so that she could inflict more pain on the ones who abandoned her, who made her think that self-sacrifice was noble.
"Yes, I had helmet hair all the time."
They sheltered beneath house-sized trees as the raindrops pelted Kashyyyk, and Jolee explained how the Wookiees have one thousand words for trees.
The teachings of the Jedi had always felt a little hollow to Bastila; she repeated them so much in the hopes that they would one day sink in as if imparted by a teacher instead of her own young mind.
Revan kept her robes and armor bulky so that people would whisper about her; would not even know her species unless she let them know, and then those few would think themselves special.
"How can you slaughter kath hounds like this?" One Dantooine farmer asked. "They're just animals." Gwen showed her the bite marks.
The first planet they encountered snow on was when they went back to Dantooine for some of Griff's supplies, and Carth draped his heavy jacket over Gwen's shoulders with a quiet remark about how the Rakatans thought Jedi could control the weather.
Mission wasn't trying to make a statement or spurn her roots or anything Lena told her; she just knew what she liked to wear.
Carth was the first one to ever call Gwen beautiful.
Juhani was the second, after battle with fangs showing like an avenging spirit of the forest.
"One man," said Malak, "will fulfill the Sith tradition of proving himself his Master's superior."
I can protect myself was right on the tip of her tongue, but Carth looked so earnest saying he would look out for her that she kept the words to herself.
"One woman," Gewn said softly, "can bring the galaxy to its feet."