Authors Notation: For all those who don't know what this story is, I thought I'd add a little preface. It's a Star Wars FanFiction in a very loose sense. The full cast are my OCs (potentially there will be cameos of others peoples OCs, but never any canon/legends characters.) and I've set it up in an alternate universe/timeline post-KotOR 2 by a margin of two hundred years or so. The story is independent of the events of the SW:ToR game. (This is the alternate universe part) So outside of the Star Wars staples of the era, consider it a blank slate.
It all had to end sometime. Saerith just wasn't expecting it to be today.
I don't want to die like this.
She'd often thought about the end. People had tried to kill her more than once, but she'd always imagined herself going out with a cocky grin on her face. Her blaster in hand, never expecting she'd meet her end here; kneeling on the third floor of an abandoned and rundown apartment building. The tip of a blaster firmly pressed against the back of her head.
Tears streamed freely down her face, and she struggled to quell the waves of panic rolling through her chest. Her mind raced, and a thousand thoughts crowded for her attention. The tactile sensation of tears rolling off the end of her chin sparked a moment of insanity, and she laughed despite everything.
Why am I crying?
She knew she wasn't trying to stir his sympathy. Saerith didn't believe anything she said or did would save her life now. The war on Dantooine had hardened the hearts of anyone who had survived this long.
Mine didn't harden enough I guess.
"I don't want to die."
she spoke without thinking and a deep-seated anger roared to life. Saerith had never been confident, but she'd always envisioned a future in which she could better herself. If only things in her life would settle. If only every life she tried to build would stop falling apart. If only things could go her way just once. She had the potential to be the person she wanted. Everything else was stopping her. She knelt on that floor, moments from death and her anger stripped away the lie.
Potential, she thought, such a stupid word.
It was true her life hadn't been easy, but that was no excuse. Every time things got harder she shied away. Had worn her self-pity as a shield, and without realizing she'd used it to deflect every reason and opportunity to improve. Potential just meant you hadn't done anything yet.
"What's that?" her soon to be murderer asked. "What did you say?"
The anger in her chest soared higher.
Why did he care?
"Just get it over with."
Her voice flat, and her eyes full of loathing. Her thoughts quieted, and her anger settled as she made peace with her death. She felt the gun press hard enough to tilt her head forward, and in the dead the rooms dead silence that followed she imagined she could hear the trigger being pulled.
Had to end sometime.
Before that end could find her however, the door to the room slid open and they both looked.
Standing in the doorway was a man. His dark attire created a stark contrast against his incredibly pale skin. Like he was being observed through a colorless filter. His long raven colored hair, tied back into a ponytail served to sharpen the impression. Grey eyes swept over the room taking it all in. No expression telling them what he thought of the situation.
As her executor swept the gun away from her head to point it at the newcomer hope flared in Saerith chest.
They don't know each other.
The pale stranger didn't look concerned with the blaster. His eyes slid over the gun aimed at his chest as if it were a piece of furniture. She knew now was her chance. She could bolt for the window on the far side of the room while they were distracted. The fall from three stories would be rough, but she was more likely to survive it than a bolt of super-heated plasma passing through her brain.
Her eyes flicked toward the window and back to the stranger, who shook his head almost imperceptibly.
What?
She felt her resolve weaken. Had he guessed her intentions? Was he telling her not to do it?
Why should I listen to him anyway? He's about to die.
"I didn't realize this room was already occupied," the newcomer said as he stepped across the threshold. For the first time Saerith saw that he was armed. A pair of swords hung from his hip and a blaster was attached to his thigh. A fact not lost on the man pointing the gun at him.
"Don't take another step,"
The pale man raised his hands casually in response to the threat.
"No need to get excited." He looked at Saerith and smiled. "My names Krae Svar."
He made it painfully clear he was speaking to her, and Saerith gaped at him.
Are you insane?
"I-"
"Shut it! Both of you!"
The man stepped toward Krae, and Saerith got a good look at him the first time. He was big for a human, tall and muscular. Towering over the lanky Krae. He leveled his gun, preparing to take the shot. Krae winked at Saerith.
What?
Krae exploded into motion, crossing the gap before his opponent could fire. He darted in close moving unbelievably fast, he swept the gun to the side, and struck with his free hand. As quickly as It had begun, it was over. An awful gargling noise and the hilt of a knife jutting out of the big man's throat.
Saerith jerked her head away, her eyes shut tight against the image. She'd seen people die before, too many in fact, but this had been too sudden and contrary to what she'd expected. She heard him hit the floor, still thrashing as he drowned in his own blood.
The mental image of it was almost too much, and Saerith felt the searing burn of bile rising in her throat. She clung to the last vestiges of her self-control and forced it back down. Doing her best to block out all sound without actually covering her ears.
She felt strong hands grab her by the shoulders and pull her up on her feet.
"There you go," Krae said. "Are you hurt?"
Saerith stared blankly into his gray eyes for a moment before her brain ground back into action.
"Just a couple scrapes and bruises." She answered, looking herself over. Krae looked passed her out the window, noting the fading light.
"Will you be alright from here?" Saerith nodded, though she was by no means sure. She just wanted to bolt out the door and run until she forgot this place. She would have if Krae hadn't been blocking the exit. Instead, Krae took her at her word and turned away, heading for the exit himself.
"Take careā¦" Krae smiled at her over his shoulder, it was a warm smile, the kind that promised anyone who saw it that they would like you. Saerith was fooled for only a second. The smile didn't reach his eyes.
"Saerith, my name is Saerith"
"Take care Saerith," and he was gone. She stood frozen, as the last few minutes flashed through her head. Saerith knew she was once more riding the whims of fate. She had lived through the hour, but was again at the mercy of anyone and everyone. eyes tight, not sure what to do next. She thought her future had been snatched away, and she lamented that she'd ever allowed herself to ever be put in that position. Now it had been handed back and she didn't mean to waste it.
Saerith came to a decision and quickly gathered up her belongings. She looked at her sword lying there on the ground. A weapon she couldn't use, a tool for killing, something she'd been given to defend herself and it had never even occurred to use it. After only a second's hesitation she snatched it up and ran out the door. Krae wasn't in the hall and Saerith felt panic swelling in her chest.
No, no, no
she bolted down the stairs and made for the entrance. She burst forth from the deserted apartment on to an equally deserted path that ran through the entire deserted town.
Her panic ebbed as she saw Krae headed down the street. Saerith only briefly noted he had acquired a large pack as she chased after him. Krae heard her footsteps and turned to look. Once again, she was struck by his eyes. Focused intently on her, his eyes flicked to the sword in her hand and back to her face. He turned around to face her and Saerith stopped well away from him, not wanting to be perceived as a threat.
"I want to go with you." She'd only just met him, but she wouldn't have believed anything could really surprise him. However, the small frown that creased his forehead along with the raised eyebrow told her otherwise. Krae scratched his chin, as if giving it some thought.
"Why?"
Well that's better than no
Saerith took a moment to collect her thoughts and tried desperately to arrange her words in the right order.
"I don't want to be afraid anymore".
Really; that's what you're going with here?
Krae seemed as nonplussed as she would expect.
"That man would've killed me if you hadn't shown up. The next one will probably get the job done."
"Next one?"
"Anyone who decided to kill me next."
Krae shook his head.
"Do people try to kill you often?"
" it's more common lately."
"and you want me to be your bodyguard?"
Saerith flinched at that, but didn't give up.
"No, I want to be like you, that is, I want you to teach me to protect myself. I just don't want to be afraid anymore."
For the first time since they'd met she felt like Krae really looked at her, suddenly self-conscious as his eyes seemed to pierce her soul. As he weighed and measured everything she was on some internal scale she had no way of understanding.
"You don't know what you're asking for." He told her.
Saerith had been expecting that and she nodded her head.
"You're right. I don't but it can't be worse than what I've got now." Krae scratched his chin and walked toward her.
"Do you know how to use that?" he asked pointing at her sword.
"I... no, it was a gift from a friend." Krae nodded and held out his hand. Saerith gave him a blank look and after a few seconds he took pity on her and spoke.
"Give me the weapon." Saerith still not sure where this was going proffered up the blade. Krae took and unsheathed it. "This is military grade, Mandalorian, who is this friend of yours?" He asked, almost absent mindedly.
"Her name was Kiala."
"Was?"
Saerith looked at her feet. "She was killed on our last mission together."
"Well, she knew how to pick her killing tools." Krae tucked Saeriths sword into his own belt and she reached out for it reflexively. Krae froze the motion in place with a single glance. Was he stealing it?
So, what if he is? Nothing you can do to stop him, and you can't really complain after he saved your life.
Krae looked at her and Saerith let her hand fall to her side.
"So, you'll just let me have your weapon then?"
Saeriths gaze fell to the ground and she clenched her fists. Was this a test? Was she supposed to try and take it back?
"Why did you take it?" Saerith asked after several moments of contemplation. Krae laughed. Not a mean laugh, just as if he'd heard something unexpected and it amused him.
"That is a good question. Simple, you're not ready for it." He stepped forward and tapped her on the forehead. "let's get going."
Krae pulled the large pack from his shoulders and tossed it to her.
"So, you'll do it?"
Krae shrugged his shoulders.
"You seem determined. I'd like to see where that leads you. First lesson. You carry the pack."
He turned and walked away leaving Saerith to alternate between trying to follow him and get the pack on.
This damn thing's heavy
She complained silently to herself. Saerith she shouldered the pack and fell in step with Krae, who grinned at her struggles; mocking her with his release from the burden.
"Where are we going?" Saerith asked. Already sweat was running off her and Krae stuffed his hands into his pockets.
"Second lesson; never plan too far ahead."
