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NOTE. This updated chapter (05-02-2015) is a much stronger "T" rating than previously published. I agreed with Norik956 that the assassin was getting beat around too much but I also decided, at the same time to make this a crossover, to reintroduce the original debauchery of the assassin that I had written at first.
Rated a VERY STRONG 'T' (not for lemons/cussing/bodily descriptions/extreme violence; just Imperial-type evilness, but for mentions of nudity, and off-hand mentions of sex). You have been warned.
—•—
The Rescue of Luminara Unduli
Chapter One
The Birth of an Assassin
—•—
I
For leagues around, as far as the curvature of the planet allowed, the fire was visible, seen by untold millions. A fire off in the far horizon caused by one man, and one man only—Anakin Skywalker.
The fire of the Jedi Temple.
The Temple had stood for a thousand generations, and now, here, at that moment, within comparative moments, all was destroyed. Destroyed easily because it was destroyed from within. Destroyed not only by the very comrades the Jedi had fought with, the "Clone Warriors" they fought and died with, but also by the Jedi themselves.
Destroyed by, as one would say later, their "lack of vision." But also by their ideas and policies that lacked reality and also by their arrogance; an arrogance that had creapt slowly into the Jedi Order, clouding their minds, hampering their thoughts, and casting aside some who were the greatest friends of the Jedi, as well as one of their own in the last few months. There could be only one end to any entity with such, shall I say, 'quality,' or lack thereof—extinction and nothing but.
Around the Temple, past a safe distance from it, thousands had gathered in a large circle, gazing upon the great fire. Some could give a lark, some were, unfortunately, satisfied—and some were crying, seeing the end of the last guardians of civility in the galaxy, and terrified at what would replace the Order. Some of these were retired officers and uniformed soldiers not from Kamino, proud to have served with the GAR and to have even talked with a Jedi Knight a time or two. Some were the shopkeepers where the Jedi frequented. And some were the friends of the Jedi—perhaps even something more than a friend. These few knew the good side of a Jedi, and of those, some had became better persons from the example. All this emotion was caused by one man, and one man only.
Anakin Skywalker. Now Darth Vader.
II
He was about to end her small life with a quick light saber stroke, but suddenly, unexpectedly, pity, simple pity, stayed his hand. It was her eyes, reflected in the fire of the burning Temple. So much like those of his lost Padawan that the Jedi had abused and taken from him. He remembered, and felt pity. He couldn't harm the little girl before him, not at all. For doing so would be like harming her.
But then, relentlessly, an evil started to take over his mind, just by thinking of the Jedi Council. Reality of the moment came back to him. He then saw not a little girl, but someone who can be used. Used to his now nefarious ends. She was perfect. Just the right age at just the right time. She was young enough to be molded, yet old enough to fear. Yes. That was what she would be, clay to be molded to become whatever he wanted; his minion, his slave, his terminator. She was strong with the Force or she would never have been here in the Temple. She was perfect. Then he physically grabbed her up from against the wall where she had been trapped and took her to the leader of his troopers killing off the Jedi, CC-3636, also known amongst his comrades as "Wolffe." This clone came up to him, and swaying with his walk were the light saber trophies he had garnered and the Padawan braids and bead strings he had collected from his own kills, some with red blood drying on them, staining his armor.
"Yes, sir," said the clone as he came up to his superior.
"Take her to Cell-399."
"Request for confirmation; Cell-399, sir?"
"You heard me, 399."
There was good reason for this back-and-forth. Cell-399 was a secret holding cell set up by the Chancellor and the most inner sanctum of the GAR, such as Admiral Tarkin, to sequester the most implacable of the Separatist leaders. Not even the Jedi, not even Master Yoda, knew of this cell. Few who went in came out in one piece—if at all, and those who did had no sanity left to call their own.
"There is a Seppie in there now, Lord Vader," informed the clone.
"Then take him out-"
"Her, sir."
"All right then, take her out, put the girl in and shoot the woman dead. My Master won't need the Separatists anymore."
"Yes, sir. Right away, sir."
And so the girl's next life, that would start with a killing, would only end years and years later after scores more had died, most of them by her own hand.
III
At first there was nothing, nothing but darkness. A darkness so completely lonely that she screamed out after a time—and no one answered her screams. Even her slight training of reaching out with the Force was utterly useless. Soon enough, she was talking to herself, sometimes just to make sure she was alive, or that she was sane. She couldn't know that her sanity was slowly, imperceptibly, being replaced by a demon. So lonely she was that she craved any response other than the echo of her screams. And, days later, just as she was on the brink of despair, someone answered, "Are you ready child?"
She was ready to answer anyone with supplication. "Yes, master. What do you want me for?"
The cloaked figure stood rigid. "You will ask no questions! You are not ready!" it bellowed before slamming the cell door shut, leaving her in darkness again. She screamed out in mental anguish, screamed until she was so tired of screaming that she fell unconscious in the middle of one. Uncountable days and countless screams later, when her face became more blanched and wan, her hair stringy and matted, only getting scraps of food she knew not how nor could see, did the cloaked man come back.
"Are you ready child?" the man asked in the same exact tone as before. She saw that as being given a second chance, that he had forgiven her mistake. The last thing she wanted to do was to go back, so she bent her head down to the floor and only said, "Yes, my Master."
As she went out of the cell, even the darkened corridor almost blinded her. It would take hours for her sight to come back. But as if to mock what she had been through, the dimly lighted room she was in, as her eyes became more used to her surroundings, was more luxurious than she had ever seen or heard about. If her handlers, she started to call them 'My Protectors' in her mind, were showing what was hers if she would be good, so as not to go back to where she just came from, they were doing a good job. A very good job. Now, there was almost nothing she wouldn't do to prevent from going back into that room. And that, unkenned by her, was her first step down a slope into the darkness from which she would never return until the end.
IV
As her eyes became better with the light, she started her training. First, she was coerced, or, more likely, indoctrinated, little by little, into distrust. She was shown her family, how much they loved her, and how painful it was for them to let her go. She loved her mother and father so, so much. Then she remembered the longing she felt for them even after all these few years. When she asked how they were and if she could see them, the old Zabrack with a kindly face, or as kind as he known as the ex-Darth Maul could make it, then showed her what he called a stolen security video of her parents, who seemed to be a little older now than in the previous video, being murdered by someone in a Jedi uniform with a blue light saber. She was shocked and cried and cried; and little by little, hate for the Jedi started to engerm itself into her.
"We just got this in," the Zabrack continued after allowing the girl to calm herself. "The Jedi killed your mother and father to keep them quiet. I'm so sorry. But be assured. Good Lord Sidious, in his benevolence, has castigated this Jedi with the proper punishment for what he did to the parents of one he so loves."
After the girl recovered, she asked with some malice in her voice, "How may I return this love for the Good Lord?"
"I myself have transgressed against Lord Sidious. But he is forgiving. Do as he asks and you shall become whole again."
"Yes, my Teacher," she said as she bowed low to the Zabrak.
Her physical training soon began as well. To begin with, her training to resist pain. She was pierced with, at first, thin needles. Every time she winced, she was slapped to the floor.
"Show no pain! You are above pain!" she was ordered. But the needles hurt so. Many times she was slapped to the floor. Again and again. But after some trials, she got control of her mind. She controlled the pain in her mind. She got control of her mind in the worst way—by hatred for the Jedi who killed her parents. Then, the level of pain was raised, raised by thicker needles being thrust into her. Again and again she was slapped to the floor. But after a time, heightening her rage against the Jedi, she was able to overcome these as well.
Then, and only then, did her saber training start. Many times a saber flicked her skin, but she showed no pain. No. This time she was slapped to the floor for her laziness and lack of skill. Her trainers hit her hard. So hard that her hatred to her trainers was added towards the Jedi for killing her parents. Day by day her hatred increased. Day by day, hatred consumed her, and became a part of her, and was a part of her natural being. And day by day, she became better. She was older now, by some few years from the time Lord Vader had rescued her.
All during this time, the galaxy was crumbling around her and freedom was becoming a thing of the past, remembered only by the older people. Many years had passed in her training, as she went from girl to woman. Light saber training, mediation, weapons, stealth infiltration—all that would be needed for a top assassin.
She also went on missions as she got older, to prove her 'worthiness,' as her Lord would say. This uncooperative Senator shot through the head while in the height of passion making love to his mistress; that business-leader, suspected of dealing with the nascent rebellion, just suspected mind you, shot the same way during a speech in a board meeting. All her targets met the same fate, either by sniper rifle, light saber thrust, or an old-fashioned metallic knife across the throat. She was good, very good. Many heard of these murders and were cowered just by that.
V
Then, on a day she had bested her trainers, while she was sleeping, she was violently bound and gagged and thrown into a room. This room was very different than the one she was thrown into when she was a little girl, although she didn't know it for the first few hours. She was still bound and gagged and it took her a few hours to get herself free, but when she did the despair of her mind reached its lowest. She wished she hadn't freed herself.
The room was nothing but white—completely white. Everything. Nothing but white. White. Even the food they gave her was white. All white. And sound. There was no sound. At all. Nothing but white. Many days for her passed in this white room. She yelled to be let free, that she was loyal, but these pleas went unheard. And soon, the blankness of her mind was in concordance with the blankness of her room, and her life. Then, she was ripe. Ripe for mind control and anything anyone said to her. And what they said to her would become part of her. "Kill all Jedi. Do as I say," in a raspy, crackling voice she had not heard before. And those words and all else they said became a part of her. Then, she was ready.
She was then to be passed on to one who would give her her first big assignment. An assignment to kill a Jedi. But before that, she was to meet her soon-to-be Mentor's Master's Master, Darth Sidious. She was very anxious.
When she met him, she was overawed by the trappings of his office. As she entered, she kept her head down, looking at the rich carpeting. "Come closer, my child," she heard. It was the voice she often heard in her head. It was a voice soothing and that brought her confidence. This man seemed to be very special in bringing that out in people.
Then she heard the respirator breath of Lord Vader. She did not fear this sound, but instead was used to it and found comfort in it, as if it was a sound to bathe her in steadfastness in the constant breathing in and out. Steady as a flowing river.
"You have done very well," Lord Sidious began. "You will first be assigned to Lord Vader's assistant. A Pau'an is he not, Lord Vader?"
"Yes, Master," answered the deep voice of Lord Vader.
"Yes, good," said the Emperor. He then got up from his large desk and went to a large ceiling-to-floor, strut-to-strut window and looked out it. "But, young lady, let me give you a small taste of what will happen if you fail me or spite me," he said. He didn't move but suddenly the girl could feel her throat constricting, more and more. Then she felt herself being lifted completely from the floor. She didn't panic. She didn't show that she was in pain. She did not lift her hands to her throat, but kept them at her sides. All the while, the steady breathing of Lord Vader went on and on, in and out, in and out, like a river flowing. After what seemed an eternity but was actually moments, she was released from the invisible grip and landed on the carpeted floor. She did not fall on the floor, gasping for breath, like someone weaker would have done, but kept her balance on her feet. As she recovered with some deep breaths of her own, Sidious looked over to her, very, very pleased.
"Very good. Very good," he said pleased in his raspy voice, even with a smile. "Well, send her on Lord Vader, as soon as possible."
"As you wish, my Master."
VI
Some Imperial days later, she arrived at an unattended docking bay on Lothal. The she was to get her assignment and continue with further training. The Pau'an who was to give her assignment came up to her. As she walked up to him, she turned to see the shuttle she came on. It had come about and was ready to return to where it came from. Then, suddenly, as it gained some distance between it and the docking bay high in the sky, it exploded. As she turned back to the Pau'an, she could see the smile on his face that she was sure was the same on hers.
"No witnesses, um?"
"No, Master," she smiled. She was met with a searing glare from the Pau'an, "There is only one Master in this Galaxy! The Great Benevolent Lord Sidious! And one Apprentice! Lord Vader! And don't you forget it!" he snarled to the girl. He then turned round, with his back facing her, almost inviting her to cut him down then and there. He could feel the hate boiling up in the girl towards him, and he smiled. "I am your Mentor, your Drilldon, and you are my Student nothing more, nothing less."
The girl settled and steadied her feelings. Remembering the steady breathing of Lord Vader surprisingly helped her with this. "Yes, Mentor. As you wish," she said as bowed to the Pau'an, still turned away from him.
"Now, it is late. We will start training tomorrow. You have had dinner?"
"Yes, Mentor," she said still bowed down.
"Good. Now," he turned his head halfway towards her and put on a sick smile that she could not see, "Go warm my bed."
"As you wish, my Mentor."
The next day, she began the training for her assignment. She got some details from the Pau'an. Every time he mentioned the targets, anger rose in his throat, and he was sometimes barely able to get his words out. She would have to infiltrate as someone sympathetic to the rebellion. The thought made her stomach turn but she held it down for the sake of Lord Sidious.
The first thing she did was to put a tattoo on her left shoulder in a tone that was subdued so that it seemed to have aged. Then, when it was healed, with a metallic knife, in front of the Pau'an completely nude and not attempting to cover herself, she slowly drew the curved tip across the tattoo, smiling straight at her Mentor all the stroke. But rather than bandage it with bacta, she would salve it with Correlian wine, naturally of a very good year. The alcohol would sanitize the wound, but the essence of the wine would make the scar more red, more prominent. Mentor was impressed.
The next day, while the scar she put there herself was bandaged and healing, she and her Mentor went to Stygeon Prison in a small ship. Her Mentor wanted to show her something. It was a long trip, but, well, they found something to do in the duration of the hyperspace leg of the trip.
At the prison, her Mentor took her to a room. He told her to wait at the entrance after just entering the cell as he opened the cell door. She noticed that someone was there as she was descending the stairs. It was of a Mirialan woman who looked very sad. She was sitting in a posture of complete dejection, with her cuffed hands in front of her face. She was about to say something to the old woman, but then the Mirialan stood up and walked to the Student with a sorrowful face, biting her lip, but as if she were looking at someone else. But she was not sorry for the old woman. She knew who she was and anger of the highest was all she felt. She was about to grab her light saber and cut the woman in two for the Jedi she was, but then, suddenly, the older woman turned and headed towards a wall. She then turned around, and with a sad look, disappeared into the wall. All that was left was a small window with the older woman's face showing, decrepit, taut and dead.
"There you see is what should happen to all Jedi," her Mentor said to her as he entered the cell.
"She is—" she started.
"She was Luminara Unduli. Not of the Council but a Master. She became despondent and disgraced when her Padawan bombed the Jedi Temple hangar."
"Barriss Offee."
"Yes, making her an easier target than a Master should have been. Now, the Force essence left in her bones and parched skin lure Jedi here to their doom."
"She has helped you capture some?"
"Quite a few, yes." The woman was very proud of her Mentor.
"What happened to Offee?" she asked.
"I'm not sure," he answered. "She disappeared suddenly as the Valiant Lord Vader was dealing with the Jedi for the traitors they were. She may be part of the Emperor's elite guard. I believe she is part of a secret project by our Glorious Emperor."
"Like an Emperor's Hand?" She had heard of the elite group and it was her goal to become one.
"Perhaps," he replied, "Which, I might say, you have the chance to become should you finish this mission completely. No half-measures. All must die," he finished with a wave of his long, bony, white finger.
The woman became puffed up at the possibility of the great reward bestowed on her for this mission. "They shall, Mentor," she said as she bowed her head.
VII
The next training she endured, still at the immense complex of Stygeon, was unusual but intensely difficult. When she went to meet her Mentor in a training room, she was met by a large, vicious animal that would have taken her head off if she had not ignited her light saber. The animal seemed to know what the weapon was. She also felt something unusual about the animal.
"That is a vornskr," said the Pau'an as he entered the training room. "They are indigenous to the planet Myrkr in the Inner Rim. Or, at least they were before I destroyed every sign of life on that planet."
"There is something about the animal. There are sensations from it as if it was with the Force."
"Very good," answered her Mentor. "It is an animal that hunts the ysalamir using the Force. Your assignment is to grab the animal by the neck. When you succeed, you will be assigned."
"Yes, Mentor." She then went close to the vornskr. It quickly sensed her and she got a derisive look from the Pau'an. "How much time do I have?" she asked.
"Give me your light saber." She did so. "When you bring me its head, you will be assigned. You have six hours. If you do not succeed, you will be destroyed like the failure you would be."
"Yes, Mentor." She then proceeded to look at the animal. She studied it, trying to sense its weakness. Then, the vornskr started roaming around up the facility. She found it and then she tried sneaking up on it but it sensed her and attacked her. She fought it off bare-handed and was able to escape for a time. The beast seemed to be hunting for something. She followed it but lost it a few times. She found it again and tried sneaking up on it. Again, it sensed her and attacked her. Her Mentor saw this, sneaked up on her, and berated her verbally. The animal, this last attack, seemed to be weaker yet more desperate. It then hit her that if she didn't kill this thing soon, she would be inside the beast, in little torn-off pieces.
However, after this second time, she got a clue. How did her Mentor sneak up to her like that? And, how did the prey of this animal try to protect itself? A species preyed upon always has to do something to continue on, either some sort of protection or many offspring. What was it? Mentor had mentioned an animal no longer in existence, something with an unusual name. A ylsamir? A yalasimar? And what was the connection with the Force? Why the Force in this animal, certainly not a sentient?
She had gotten some clues so she needed to check them out, even if it took a few hours of the precious six she was given. In the library stolen from the Jedi Temple, she found that the ysalamir, for that was their proper name, the main prey of the vornskr, were Force-sensitive as well and could create an area where the Force was non-existent, negating the Force abilities of the vornskr. She knew she couldn't do that, but perhaps she could do the exact opposite, completely erase her existence in the Force around her. Then she remembered her Mentor. If she thought back, she couldn't sense him in the Force.
That was the answer. She would try to calm herself, while still viable in attacking the animal, and eliminate any Force sensations she gave off. It would be hard, but it was worth a try. So, she tried sneaking up to the vornskr all the while calming her existence in the Force. She failed a few times, each time closer in her escape from the desperate animal. But, with little time to spare, she finally was able to decapitate the animal and throw its head to Mentor.
"Very good," was his only response, coming out of the shadows. "You have learned a skill very useful and important for your next job—a very big and important job. You are now ready to be assigned," he said as he returned her light saber.
He then told her the rest of the details she would need to complete the assignment. It was an information-gathering assignment and her targets were only to be assassinated when she had what information she could get and all were in killing distance—but she was not to end the operation unless either her targets or she were dead. She was to continue her studies in Togruti-B, a language of her targets, but she was not to let on that she could understand it. She could use her womanly charms if she wished, since one of the targets may develop an affinity for her. And, she was not to fail—or what the Emperor gave her in his office she would get from him first and he would send her to the Emperor barely alive for him to finish off as painfully as he pleased.
VIII
Her first stop was to be Jabba's Palace. There was someone there she needed to get information from. She boldly walked into the den of the Great Jabba's, and, with enough credits thrown to his minion, was able to enter the cell of a former apprentice to her Mentor. No one dared to stop or bother her. She heard that this apprentice was good, but now, as she entered the cell, she looked pathetic. She seemed to have aged quickly. Her skin was blanched and her hair was mottled and unwashed in, it seemed, for ages. However, she did have a kernel of beauty. Mentor said that one of her targets could be attracted to her but she started to question that if this woman had failed. She got some information on a particular target from the haggardly woman, very useful for her, such as his weaknesses—of which women and womanizing did not seem to enter. And when she was finished, she light-sabered off her head for the failure she was. As she was leaving, she tossed more credits to Jabba's slave to make up for the mess she made, gave a derisive look to the denizens of the Palace, and left to go back to Lothal.
By the time she got back, there was good news. Most of her targets had made a trip to a planet in the Expansion Region. The Pau'an didn't know where they started the trip. One of her objectives was to find that planet or place they started from. She was to infiltrate the target as someone sympathetic to the rebellion. She would have to take it from there. But then, that was what she was trained for.
Information was second in priority, assassination first. She could take a few weeks, and no more, to get into the 'good graces' of the target and to get what information she could. There might be an outside chance that someone may visit with vital information but she was not to have that stop her primary mission. She was to debilitate that person if he showed and to bring him to the nearest Empire outpost for further questioning, but to terminate the rest of her targets to the last as they would be more dangerous to the Empire and Merciful Lord Sidious. This was to be her first priority. This was to be done to all—no matter who, no matter what age.
The next step was the second most dangerous preparation for the kill she needed to do to complete the mission. She needed to crash the ship enough to look like a ship had crashed, but yet not hurt her seriously. She broached this to her Mentor. For some reason he was baffled enough to ask obsequiously his Master, the Lord Vader. Surprisingly, her Mentor got some good advice on just what she needed to do to accomplish this difficult feat. She wouldn't want to ask how Lord Vader knew this but she had to smile at times when she thought about it. 'Must've had a lot experience doing it,' she thought to herself quietly.
She then made final preparation to infiltrate the targets. Their spy there said that they had shown up for an Akul hunt for one of them and it would be the perfect time to make contact with the targets. Getting the information from the spy, she plotted on a detailed topographical map the crash-landing so that it went over two knolls on a flatland near her targets and then landed in a waddi.
She went in a stolen small freighter that was nondescript enough to give it cover and sturdy and perfect in shape to crash-land purposely. But she knew the small crew of diverse species she stole it from on Kessel wouldn't mind. The dead don't whine or complain or file stolen ship reports.
Before she landed, or rather, crash-landed, on Shili, her Mentor contacted the spy on Shili and put a small platoon of stormtroopers at her disposal. These were, under her direction, to be the best sharpshooters the Empire could spare.
IX
On the planet Shili, events worked out perfectly. The targets, according to the spy, were oblivious. All she had to do was 'crash' the little freighter with a few small explosions to mimic blaster hits. This she did expertly with just a few bruises. These were planned as well to give credence to her story. After meeting the Togruta spy who was waiting in the proximity of the crash site, she then went to the clearing where the sharpshooters were waiting to do the most harrowing thing she had ever done to herself. She planned it well but there was still the risk she wouldn't survive. But it was worth it for the trophies The Great Emperor Palpatine would gain. In any case, if she was a little lucky, at least one of her soft-hearted targets would help her out, she bargained.
One piece of information she got from the spy was which way was the worst of the Akul runs. After she left him, while walking towards the stormtroopers, she had the ship they came on, piloted by a droid, move to the far side of the area. She needed to make sure those stormtroopers met their proper end.
Meanwhile, unknown of the fate that awaited them, four stormtroopers moved to a clearing and waited. "Do you know what this is about?" one of them asked.
"We'll know soon enough," said the highest rank there, "Don't worry about it." He didn't say so but he also had a hologram communicator. As soon as the woman entered the clearing, the hologram buzzed—but they didn't notice. They were too entranced by the exotic beauty of the woman who came over to them. After the shock, they started undressing her from the tight, sleeveless, white flight suit with their eyes, and one or two even got as far as imagining what they would do with her in a bed, before a voice from the communicator caught their notice.
"Well, Captain, now that I have your attention," the voice said and as they all looked over to the small device, they were stunned to see the famous, or, to some in the troops, the infamous, Inquisitor. "Are you ready?" he asked the woman. She just nodded her head. "Where first? The front or the rear?"
"The front would be better first."
"How many?"
"Two in the front. Three behind."
"If you say so," replied the Inquisitor. "You men! You are some of the best sharpshooters we have. We wouldn't want to lose you but this is a very important mission. If you succeed, the Emperor himself will reward you."
"Thank you sir. Shall we get the mission details from you or your apprentice?"
"She is not my apprentice!" the Inquisitor almost shouted, and then more calmly as if he had made a slip, "She is simply my Student and I am her Mentor." There was a pause. "She will point to places on her body. You will shoot her there."
"What!" the Captain was completely taken aback, not to mention scared. "But she's, she's, . . ."
"She is very beautiful, I admit," returned the Inquisitor as all the troopers were looking at him stunned, "But she is not unarmed," he said just as they heard a click and a low hum. They all looked to the woman only to see a red light saber and imminent death-dealing on her face. With lightning speed, she cut one of the troopers in half at the waist and then calmly walked to where she had been.
"The same awaits he who misses and shoots air," she calmly said. "We are wasting time. Get on with it."
"Sir, yes, sir!" said the three troopers remaining. She then pointed to two places in her front, her right thigh, at the vastus externus muscle, and the crown of her left deltoid, just below her clavicle. The men raised their rifles. The load was less powerful than usual and would not cause killing or great damage, but enough.
"You may fire," said the Inquisitor. They hit her where she pointed to and she stumbled back. The troopers, despite the death of their comrade at her hands, one could tell were concerned even though they were in their armor. She then stood back up straight and turned around. She then pointed to three places, her left gluteus medius, just below the crest of her left illium, her right calf, halfway between the knee and the ankle, but laterally, and the lateral head of her left triceps. This time, the shots knocked her to the ground. The Captain started to go to her, concerned for her, but the Inquisitor stopped him, "Let her be! She will find her way."
She stood unsteadily, looked back to the men with a serious face, turned her face back, and then stumbled away. The men were left looking after her, stunned beyond belief at not just what they had to do, but also the power of the young woman. Of them, the Captain was particularly shocked at what had just transpired.
After a few hundred meters, she fell on the ground, got back up and walked unsteadily for a few hundred meters more. More than the pain, which she was trained to ignore, she was concerned about the loss of blood. Some would look good, but too much would be worrisome. She was starting to get worried. She placed her hand over her right thigh wound to try to stop the blood. She didn't have anything else to use.
There were tufts of turu grass here and there but further on there was a bank of trees. Good. She could use the branches of them to help her along. She could hear the tramping of some small animals; perhaps the thimar starting to rummage for food. These she didn't mind, but it was the Akul that worried her, albeit not as much as the loss of blood. The Akul could sniff out a blood scent for clicks and if she didn't hurry, they would be upon her sooner than she thought. But it didn't matter if she couldn't find the targets soon. She would die of the loss of blood.
After a time, the distance crawled was matching the distance walked. 'This is the end,' she cried in her mind. 'I have failed. I am sorry My Emperor.' She then fell for the last time and crawled. Crawled to the last ounce of her power. She thought she had lost too much blood. 'I'm so sorry.'
Peace is a lie, there is only passion.
She stood, took a few steps and then fell to the ground
Through passion, I gain strength.
She tried crawling on all fours but soon collapsed
Through strength, I gain power.
She grabbed a long, low-lying branch to pull her along.
Through power, I gain victory.
She turned herself on the ground skywards and looked to the sun, waiting for death.
Through victory, my chains are broken.
She could hear children's voices. She smiled an evil smile and mock-yelled for help.
The Force shall free me.
She heard the children come up to her. She had succeeded. Her mission of death was to begin. She closed her eyes.
"How horrible Arya. How did she get like this?" she heard a girl's voice ask.
"I don't know, Alina. Look! The tattoo. She must be with the Alliance. She must have been shot escaping. Mama said there was some Imperial activity not far away and to be careful," a different girl's voice said.
"The Imperials must've slashed the tattoo. Poor woman. Can you help her, Arya?"
"I don't know. Here, take Precious." Arya gave Alina the little girl to hold while she tried to see what she could do for the woman. Arya was strong in healing with The Force and she would try to help this woman.
"She looks like you and Aila do. She has Togruta markings."
"Be quiet, Alina, I'm trying to concentrate." So Arya, herself a hybrid between a human and a Togruta but with human hair instead of lekku and montrals, concentrated hard as she used the Force going through her hands, to staunch the blood from what seemed the worst wound, the front of her right thigh, as well as to calm the woman. She was very good at it.
"I'll call Aila to bring a blanket while I cut some poles."
"Good idea, Alina. Have Aila bring two blankets. Put Precious here nearby."
The woman was finally able to open her eyes. As she did so, she could see a girl soothing her with the Force. She relaxed as the girl helped to stop the blood. She was starting to recover.
"Please stay quiet," the girl whose face was hidden by her hair but helping to heal her said softly.
She then heard some footsteps and looked to see a light-skinned Togruta girl with montrals and another, older girl with hair but Togruta markings. These two quickly and expertly made up a makeshift stretcher from a blanket and the two poles. This they smoothly slid under the woman and lifted her up and put the other blanket over her. The girl helping her had the same face markings as the others she could see now. Past her was another Togruta-looking girl on a blanket on the ground.
She had found her targets.
"I told Mama. She is ready for her," said the oldest.
"All right," said the other one with human hair, a little curtly.
So Aila and Arya gently carried the woman to the encampment of the family while Alina was doing the same with Precious. As they did so, in their kindness, they, unbeknownst to them, took in an evil that would kill them all.
Or die trying.
—•—
Thank you for reading this.
As for Darth Maul; he is still alive at the end of Son of Dathomir and since this story is years later and Mandalore has been taken over by the Imperials (i.e., Sabine in the Imperial Academy there), I don't think I am too AU for having him here.
Emperor Palpatine/Darth Sidious, Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader, Darth Maul and the Inquisitor are characters the property of Disney. The assassin is an original character with this story. The four girls here, Aila, Arya, Alina, and Precious are original characters from my story, "An Oasis in a Sea of Hate." (See Chapter 7 and beyond for more detail of them.) Darksawr's original character will make an appearance in the next chapter. Also, thank you to Darksawr and ahsokanerd for advice on rating and category for this story.
I am having some trouble with the names. They can't use 'Master' or 'Apprentice' to each other. I was going to use 'Sensei' and 'Deshi' from Japanese but thought it a little insensitive. 'Drilldon' is a combination of 'Drill sergeant' and 'Don.' Please let me know what you think.
I read in Mark Twain's "A Tramp Abroad" that when he was visiting Germany at about 1880 or so, he went to a military academy and saw some fencing. Many of the cadets had scars and he wrote that when cadets got a sword scar on the face, they would daub it with wine to make the scar more prominent.
The torture in the white room is from Wikipedia under "Psychological Torture." As for the villainess asking someone to shoot her, it is a common theme in movies for criminals to rough themselves up or have someone beat the heck out of them for a better alibi, which is her reason as well (but maybe a little over the top).
I would like to credit norik956 for the idea (in "The Hidden Truth") that the breathing of Darth Vader can be soothing to some.
The concept of Wolffe's trophies is a portrayal of Rex in a FanFiction (I can't remember the name) where Darth Vader actually kills Ahsoka. (I first had Rex in here but noticed it at the last minute. In my Oasis story (Chapter 10), he and the Torrent Company had their chips taken out (see the "Fives" arc in Season Six, "The Lost Episodes.") so they defected to protect the Jedi and later help the Rebellion, so I corrected it. Maybe I just wanted to put it to the Rexsoka fans.)
The next chapter will be the second storyline in this FanFiction.
johnt