This is my first fanfic in a long time, so here's hoping it came out alright!
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or anything else, so you can't sue me Lucas! The characters are of my own creation however, and I won't be using any from canon.
Monster
I was falling.
I'd been asleep for so long now, I had almost forgotten himself. I tried to, tried to hold on to the peace in the darkness that enveloped me, but I was waking up. Normally it would be pain that woke me, a boot to the ribs or a tightening grip around my throat as my master yanked me aloft. But this time it was different. I could feel air rushing past my face, and a weightlessness that was almost pleasant.
Pleasant was never good.
My eyes snapped open and I saw the ground rushing up to meet me. Instinct kicked in as fear gripped my heart like a vice, and I used that fear to fuel me as I reached out to the Force. There was no way to slow myself. I would hit the earth like a comet, and either my body would give or the ground would. I never gave in; my master would never allow it.
Dirt, soil and solid stone exploded around me, but I was unhurt. The Force was strong, and it had enveloped me like a cocoon, cushioning my fall. I could not see through the cloud of dust around me, but I could hear the sound of blaster fire in all directions. I didn't know where I was, or who was fighting. I had only one word, a single concise order from my master.
Survive.
It wasn't long before the conflict outside my sanctuary of dust invaded. A hail of blaster fire rained down around me. They must have seen my master's ship, seen me fall, and there was no missing where I landed. I ignited my lightsaber and deflected as many of the bolts as I could, but there were simply too many.
One shot grazed my left leg, and searing pain shot through my entire body. Another blasted into my shoulder, which was mostly stopped by my armor but still hurt nonetheless. Adrenaline coursed through my body, taking some of the edge off, but the physical pain was negligible. The memories they conjured were what truly hurt. Memories of the grueling exercises, the beatings my master laid on me, and all the relentless insults and abuse I had tolerated over the years of my tutelage came flooding back with the familiar sensation of pain. And I hated it.
The Republic troopers could not see if they had hit their target, but they knew that it was a Sith. An entire squad had broken off from the fight to deal with the sudden appearance of a Sith, and with practiced discipline had sought to eliminate the coming threat before it had a chance to act. Several volleys had gone into the cloud of dust, and nothing had come out. The squad leader took a step forward, calling for a momentary cease fire. In a flash he was gone.
All the pain I felt, mental and physical, I channeled inside my body. I reached out to the Force again, my only friend in this life and my only release.
The blaster fire had stopped, for the moment, and all was silent. Then footsteps edging closer, and the gruff voice of a man barking orders, sounding so much like my own master.
As the power built up more and more, screaming for release, I let it all out in a single, mighty roar. Force erupted from my lips with the power of a volcano. The cloud of dust, finally settling around me, vanished in an instant as it followed the flow of my shout and drove my target far, far away into oblivion. I was in the open now, for all to see. Now I could see my enemies.
Five men surrounded me in a standard tactical array, evenly spaced with overlapping fields of fire. But their leader was gone, suddenly and brutally taken away, and they were stunned. They had no defense as I charged; saber in hand, I cut them down one by one.
The immediate threat was neutralized, but I had not yet slaked my rage. Behind me I saw a mass of Imperial infantry, men in white armor methodically moving forward in disciplined ranks. It seemed, however, that the center of their line was bogged down. A platoon of Republic Troopers held their ground in a convenient ring of stones fortified with makeshift barricades and backed by heavy gunners. Any delay of the assault was a failure in the eyes of the Empire, and failure would not be tolerated. Without hesitation I raced toward the fray.
My drop zone was significantly behind enemy lines, but I didn't care. In my fury my vision was clear, unclouded by doubt or fear. Another squad of soldiers appeared before me as I crested a small rise, and the first man dropped before any of them knew I was there. The rest, another squad of five, turned on me swiftly and opened fire. I was ready this time, my opponents in view, and my body coursed with power and vigor. Not a single bolt landed as I expertly deflected each shot.
Now that I was in the battle, I methodically went to work. Maintaining a defensive posture I continued to focus solely on deflection, my saber whirling in tight circles as I walked steadily toward the next soldier in line. The trooper took a wild swing with the butt of his rifle and lost an arm for the effort. Falling to the floor screaming, he was silenced by a deflected bolt from his own ally. The next four maintained their fire, but I had found a rhythm, and soon two more dropped as their blasts were reflected back at them.
The squad leader and his last remaining subordinate ceased fire momentarily to regroup, and quickly lobbed a grenade at me. It was batted aside, but still detonated near enough to cause me to stumble as the force and shrapnel battered me. In that moment, they drew their combat knives and charged, hoping to catch me off guard. Rattled as I was from the unexpected blast, I could not get my saber in line in time to end either of them. I fell back a step as they came in, forcing them to commit to their charge, and just as they reached me I spun to the side, using one trooper as a shield to stop the other. One knife still threatened, and I caught my assailant's wrist with my offhand to halt the blow.
In such tight quarters I could not properly bring my saber to bear, so I deactivated it momentarily. I brought up a knee into the soldier's stomach, bending him low, and followed up with my saber's hilt into the man's helmet, smashing the visor and sending the man tumbling back with shards embedded in his face.
The second soldier, the squad leader, valiantly charged in again. Whipping his combat knife about with seasoned efficiency he kept me on my heels, working me toward the relative low ground hoping to gain the advantage. He even managed to land a few strikes, scratching my armor a few times, slicing into my arm, and even catching me across the forehead. None were lethal blows, however. All he was doing was making the beast angry.
As blood blossomed from my forehead and ran down into my eyes, I, already drowning in emotion and pain of my own making, lost all control. Blood ran over my eyes, and in the red haze all the world disappeared but for the enemy before me. My lightsaber forgotten, the hilt fell from my hand as I drove a fist into my enemy's chest. The heavy armor stopped the physical force of the blow easily, but charged with my focused rage my touch manifested in a powerful shock of lightning. Dark power coursed through the soldier's body and his muscles locked up for a moment, granting me the aggressive position.
Another scream erupted from my lips, but this one was purely unconscious as I pummeled the soldier ruthlessly. My fists rained down from every angle, driving the unfortunate man back until his foot caught on a jutting stone in the ground. As he tumbled to the floor, still I did not relent. I straddled the soldier and pounded on his breastplate with all my force-fueled might, slamming him over and over and over again. Soon the armor gave way, and blood began to spurt out from underneath his fists, but still I would not – could not - stop. Blind with emotion I couldn't see the mangled mess my latest victim had become.
The next few moments were a blur, but at some point I had moved on from my last kill and continued toward the entrenched platoon. The Imperials had made some small progress, and the platoon's numbers had dwindled, but reinforcements were swiftly on the way. They had to be dislodged now.
Clarity returned as I hurtled into the midst of the Republic troopers. My landing was heralded by a thunderous retort and the very ground trembled with the weight of my assault. A wave of Force sent a dozen soldiers flying away to crash into the surrounding stones that had for so long protected them, their bones crushing and organs liquefying.
The quarters were close, and my prey had nowhere to run. My lightsaber sang as I danced through the crowd. Limbs flew and heads rolled, and in moments the beautiful yet macabre performance was over. Of the thirty Troopers that had once held this ground against overwhelming numbers, now only seven remained.
My heart raced as I faced down my few remaining foes. Surprise and an overwhelming burst of power had granted me an opportunity and I had capitalized on it to devastating effect, but I was tiring. Every muscle trembled from exertion, and the edges of my vision were growing fuzzy. The foes I now faced were highly skilled, and bore advanced heavy weaponry. For all my power and fury, I knew my chances in this battle were slim. I focused on one thought, and one thought only, repeating it like a mantra against the inevitability of my coming demise.
Survive.
Five of the soldiers bore assault rifles, and two held heavy Assault Cannons. In unison they hefted their armaments and opened fire.
A blinding hail of red light assailed me. My lightsaber worked impossibly fast, moving precisely where it needed to be to deflect as many bolts as possible as my flagging mind intuited the array of fire. My aching muscles screamed as they contorted my body to minimize the damage. My weapon flew from my hand under the barrage, and I reached out to the Force one last time in desperation, using it to protect me in a cocoon as it had when I fell. My armor crumbled under the pressure as bolt after bolt scorched my body. Pain wracked every fiber of my being, and my eyes began to darken.
I awoke to a steel-toed boot driving into my ribs.
"On your feet."
I knew that voice all too well. Even in the foggy darkness of my near-death state, that voice cut to my core. My eyes opened. Above me stood a black shadow; my master, covered from head to toe in black armor and draped with a Sith Lord's robes. Around him lay the scorched and dismembered corpses of the Republic platoon. The seven soldiers who had survived my initial onslaught lay where they had stood, their backs blackened from blaster fire. Apparently I had held out long enough for the Imperial soldiers to breach the fortifications and finish off the remnants of the enemy in time to save me.
I had survived.
I tried to stand, but every inch of my body screamed in protest and I let out a strangled cry.
"I said, on your feet!" my master roared, and this time he brought his heavy boot down on my stomach. My breath blasted from his lungs and I let out an agonized groan.
I was alive; the pain I felt was proof of that. It was almost impossible to believe, but I had turned the tide against the Republic's finest and lived. It was my greatest accomplishment ever, and it was all because of my master. He had given the order.
He had thrown me unconscious from the ship into the middle of an active warzone.
Intense pain can be horrible, debilitating, even crippling. But pain is also power, if used correctly. In an instant I was on my feet, lightsaber ignited and returned to my grasp, diving straight for my master's heart.
Just as quickly my lightsaber was gone again and I felt the familiar pressure of my master's grip around my throat, holding me aloft. Burning red eyes met mine, and a powerful psychic presence enveloped my mind.
"You forget your place, dog!" With a flick of his wrist the Sith Lord sent me flying into the stone wall.
Coughing up blood, I struggled to my knees, but couldn't rise any further. My master towered over me with the most infuriating arrogance on his face.
"You have impressed me today, I'll give you that." The Sith Lord surveyed the carnage around him with a delighted chuckle. "You are truly a monster! But never forget, you are my monster. I hold the leash. I control you. I own you!" With one last derisive snort, he turned his back on me and walked calmly away.
Hatred consumed my every thought, but my battered body would not obey my commands. The past day had drained me entirely, and once again, as ever, I was powerless in the face of my tormentor. The rage which had fueled me no longer availed.
A pair of medics hustled over to me with a stretcher to carry me away, but I barely registered them. I felt numb, disconnected from my own body. It was like I was somebody else, watching the life of some other man. No, not a man; a monster.
Its gaze locked on its master's retreating back, all the little monster could do was cry.