Saber's shadow
Author's note:
This is my first Star Wars fanfiction, inspired by the movies, cartoons and games but most of all by Crimson Huntress who provided information on the finer details of the Star Wars universe. This is for you, Hanny.
Disclaimer: Kudos to Darth Madolin for her Dark Side "affliction". You know what it is.
So it was all over, the advance and retreat, the doubts and fears. I have deserted my master and the Jedi Council in favour of the Mandalorian Wars… and Revan. How a single woman can be so bewitching to so many Jedi continues to impress me. As her follower, I am drawn to her by more than professional attraction. The Force itself… or, as many have told me, the Dark Side of the Force, enchants me to her cause. I will no longer stand idly by and meditate with the Light Side when the fate of the Galactic Republic is weighed on the scales. The Force shall set us free.
Approaching the Mandalorian fleet aboard a Republic battle cruiser, I ponder the warnings of my former master. That was all he ever offered; threats and cautions! No words for decisive action! No encouragement when I bested my peers; he chided my ferocity! How has the Council survived this long, I wonder, when peace is their highest ideal? Civilization was not built on peace! The first Sith Lord, Ragnos, understood that much. He was invincible, the only Lord to never know his better save death itself! It is death that the Dark Side harnesses, and by exterminating these confounded warmongering Mandalorians, we shall bring life to the Republic once more!
"All hands, prepare for combat."
While the klaxons sounded their battle cry I went to rally the Jedi present on this ship. We boarded the elevator to the fighter docks, for no better pilot is there than one strong in the Force.
"Brothers of the Force! Here begins our sortie on those warriors who believe they are masters of the universe. We shall make them cower before our might in space and on land, until none remain!"
I ignited my saber and held it aloft. We all crisscrossed blades, causing the walls to shine blood red. Battle spirit surged through us, and we shouted as one brotherhood, "Death to the Mandalorians!"
The harsh glare of lasers streaking through the void. The muffled explosions of enemy fighters all around you. The constant uncertainty of life or death. That was the essence of a close-quarters dogfight. With more than ten thousand fighters engaged in combat, the weaving and spinning, the swooping and rolling blended into an endless flurry of movement and destruction either your own or the enemy's. Ships frequently collided, cruiser cannons of both sides destroyed their own and chain explosions were common in this milieu of chaos.
With the Force as my ally, I was never struck. It guided every twitch of my hand on the control column, every tremble of my finger on the trigger. I put my complete trust in the Force, focusing all my concentration on its unseen promptings and ignoring all else around me. I entered into a state akin to Battle Meditation, and knew my brothers of the Force were also doing so, supporting each other though we sped kilometers apart. In the Force, distance is meaningless.
No matter how skilled the Jedi, the Republic soldiers were not, and their flagship was lost in the early stages of the skirmish. The shockwave sent my fighter into a barrel roll that almost tore its wings off.
"Retreat!" hailed the pitiful cry from the secondary command ship. The Republic squadron turned tail and ran.
"Fools!" I ground my teeth; rage boiling up my throat, "We will not show the weaker side here!"
I arced my fighter toward the Mandalorian flagship, cutting communications with the rest of the fleet.
"What are you doing?" queried my brethren through the marvelous telepathic link of the Force.
"The Council and Republic are cowards, but I will not join their ranks!"Three broke formation to join me.
"You are a fool, but a brave fool."
"Some would call it courage."
While the bulk of the enemy chased the retreating Republic, the flagship's cannons were aimed at us. As we could plainly see their huge turrets (to compensate for their small minds, no doubt) we arrived near their shielded docking port.
"Destroy the power couplings!"Fire shredded the cables and the screen flickered out of existence. There was a moment of anxiety when an onboard cannon destroyed one of our ships, but its pilot had already ejected and was swinging at said cannons with all his might, slashing through the duratanium casings with impunity. We landed our remaining three safely and leapt from our cockpits, lightsabers hissing into the fray as Mandalorian guards formed ranks against us. Blaster fire was returned to them in kind and their pathetic mêlée weapons turned to scrap under our assault. We located the elevator and were on our way to the bridge when it stalled in the barracks. Someone had grown wise to our plans.
"Is that just our luck?"
I tittered.
"It is just our opportunity. Let none survive!"
Though famous for their battle suits, there is no material in the galaxy known to deflect a lightsaber blade short of a forcefield or another lightsaber. These soldiers had been hastily warned and, in such a massive fleet, mêlée shields were saved for ranking officers. We found some just picking their weapons off the racks. Two of my companions threw their lightsabers that cut apart the racks, leaving the Mandalorians defenseless. We passed through them as a hurricane. Heads and limbs rolled as we moved through the barracks, whose quarters were so narrow it rendered blaster fire ineffectual.
"How do we reach the command deck?"
"There is a map terminal for recruits," I smirked. When we found it, the layout of the ship appeared on my datapad.
"Here we go," my finger pointed from the barracks through the corridors to the deck, "And we can sell this to the Republic for credits."
"Ambitious, aren't you?" one commented, dusting his knight's robes, "There is more to be gained by returning a Mandalorian head."
We sustained ourselves by draining life from soldiers we felled. Force lightning dealt with the shielded ones – there is only so much energy a forcefield can withstand, and the Force is eternal.
"It is enjoyable to crush the living," one noted as she did so to a Mandalorian's arms, "they make pleasing noises," she shattered his ribs and smacked him into another soldier who tumbled face-first into my waiting lightsaber. I stepped over them and to the deck's magnetically sealed blast doors.
"You cannot hide!" I thundered via Force Scream, punctuated by a decisive thrust to the door's locking mechanism. I was shaking, bubbling over with the thrill of the hunt. I imagined their fear. I imagined them shuddering in their oversized boots, waiting for the end. The lock burnt off. I forced the doors apart.
"Fire!"
I fully anticipated this; what self-respecting invader would not? I brought up a Force barrier that the sizzling energy bounced off of while my allies dashed at blurry speeds around the deck, debilitating the defenses with swift sure strokes. I marched toward the Mandalorian commander, glittering in his ceremonial armour.
"This is the passion. This is the victory. This is the freedom of the true Force! You have learnt its power this day, and will not survive to tell the tale."
That sinister, hated accent rasped from the faceplate.
"My people will destroy the Republic and the Council! The galaxy shall speak our tongue!"
Four red beams leveled around him.
"I find your lack of vision… disturbing."
He was cut apart brutally, savagely as the beast he and all his kind were.
After setting the flagship on a collision/detonation course with its fleet, we escaped the way we came. I allowed the one who had lost his ship to be my gunner.
"Our reward shall be great," he crooned, bouncing a chain of Mandalorian heads on his knee.
"This tale shall be told to all who would follow Revan, as proof of our power. It shall turn many Jedi to our cause."
Behind us the flagship took down three other command ships in its explosion radius. As the fighters had returned to those ships, I estimated ten thousand dead. It was truly a day of victories.
We were commanded to stand before Revan herself. Dressed in our finest black robes we heroes awaited an audience in her meditation chamber. It was as dark as the void itself, and no glimmerings of life other than our own could we feel; yet the Sith Lord appeared to us. Startled, I marveled at how well she had masked her presence, that not even we elite could detect the flow of the Force through her until she permitted.
"Kneel."
It was not so much as a command as it was irresistible. Her magnanimous voice carried the weight of a planet's darkness, and it dropped us as though we were flies.
"You disobeyed my direct command."
That cold tone caused fear to palpitate through us all. I was the only one to summon enough courage to speak.
"We dealt a critical strike to the enemy, my Lord."
If her voice washing over us all was terrible, it was the depths of dread to hear it focused on me alone.
"Your victory does not matter – your obedience to me does!"
I knew what she would say next, and my heart dropped to my feet.
"I find your lack of faith… disturbing."
The invisible, unknowable pressure of the Force stopped my breathing. Those who I thought were my allies made no move to aid me, immobilized by terror. My throat burned for air. My limb spasms were to no avail, not even my knowledge of the Force could save me from this constricting horror in the awful dark! When it seemed my lungs would burst the pressure released, leaving me crumpled and gasping.
Light flooded the chamber, and brought further fright to us, for the Sith Lord was revealed in combat armour as gleaming red as her legendary saber. We hated the light, and wished it would go away to spare us the mask of disgust imprinted on her stormy face.
"Cretins," she sneered, "Lower than a Gizka's dung! How dare you prize your initiative above MY word! With or without your puny following, I will eradicate the Mandalorian scum from the Outer Rim!"
"Mercy!" cried the female among us, who had so recently lorded over the deaths she caused, "Our lives are yours!"
"They always will be!" Revan's booming voice resounded, "Not your own, but mine, forever!"
This seemed to assuage her rage to some degree, as she retracted her lightsaber.
"You yet have use to me. Go to Corellia, where my enemy lives. Strike him down, or never return."
We exited her chamber… we retreated from it! None wished to prolong the utter shock of our disobedience.
"Stand firm, brothers," quaked the one who had cried mercy, "Our lives have not been forfeit. We shall earn her good graces once more."
How pathetic are the attentions the weak pay to one another in the shadow of the strong!
