Brennain hated this planet. Nar Shadaa was a scum-filled cess pit and as far as she was concerned, had never earned its place on her galaxy chart. She was thrilled to be leaving. And her newest companion, Theron, seconded the idea.
The Jedi in her rebelled against the fact that she had just murdered a man, almost in cold blood. Every last bit of her training had preached that no one was beyond redemption. Every single individual in the galaxy had the opportunity to embrace the light and reject dark side influence. Who was she to play judge, jury, and executioner?
She felt ill, her stomach flipping around in her abdomen, causing excessive nausea. Brennain was not a Darksider. She was not.
But she could feel the Darkness squirming in the back of her mind, rewriting her basic constitution. Her breathing increased speed as she pushed her Force powers towards the fluctuating mass, causing it to spasm even at the lightest touch. The mass sent shooting pain through her skull. The young warrior drew in a sharp breath in response.
Theron was looking at her now. Qyzen would be too if he had been on the ship, but she couldn't bring herself to look up from the console in front of her.
She ignored him in favour of stressing through the recent events. Maybe she had been wrong? Maybe she was darker than she thought after all. Brennain really didn't know anymore, she couldn't voice that idea without accepting that it was true. Frankly, it made her want to burst into tears just at the thought.
Brennain wasn't dark.
She wasn't.
Word Count: 271