Once
Once she had been proud.
She had stood tall with her chin up amongst the ranks of her fellow Jedi, had taken such pride in been able to help people. Sometimes she'd wondered if it was really helping, but after seeing their grateful smiles and hearing their heartfelt thanks, she knew it was worth it.
Once she had been happy.
She had laughed a lot, and told jokes. The burning ache of loneliness and sorrow that was her constant companion hadn't been there. She barely remembered life without the knot of rage in the pit of her stomach, whispering to her and tempting her. She always wished it were gone. She always wished the Jedi were still around.
Once she had felt peace.
She could sleep throughout the night, and wake well rested. She had always been bright eyed and bushy tailed, with a ready smile and cheerful laugh. Once she had lit up a room simply by with her presence. Now she darkened the mood and made people uncomfortable.
Once she had obeyed the Code.
It had dictated her life, dictated the lives of all the Jedi. When it was hard to obey it, she had spoken to a Master or her Master, and they had talked it over and cleared any issues. Because, at the end of the day, the Code was the only way. It was the only thing that governed their lives. They needed it. Or at least that was what they said. She hadn't had that support for the longest time, and the tenants of the Code just didn't hold up outside the sheltered life she had once led.
Once she had been a child.
She had been innocent, with wide eyes and a bright smile, unaware of the danger and heartbreak ahead of her. Even through her training, when she knew she was learning the arts of killing people, she had been innocent. She missed been innocent.
Once she had had a home.
She had always returned to the Temple after a mission, no matter how tough it was. No matter messed up the galaxy got, the Temple was always a refuge to come home to. The marble tiled halls, the Room of a Thousand Fountains, they were an integral part of her image of home. She had never truly imagined it would be gone forever, that she would be prosecuted for what she was, what she had been trained to be.
Once she hadn't felt anger.
Anger was an almost foreign emotion to the children of the Temple. They had been trained from their earliest years to control their feelings, and to calm themselves when they felt like exploding. Sometimes it was hard, but anger was never a real problem for them growing up. They leaned on each other for support.
Now she was alone and anger was her only constant companion. And she drew strength from it; it was all she had left.
Once she had been a Jedi.
But the Jedi were no more. Young people didn't even know the name; older people who did kept their mouths shut. Spreading stories about the Jedi was sedation these days, and many believed they were all traitors. Well, maybe she was.
Maybe she was a traitor to the Empire. But she remained loyal to the Republic, even to the death. Especially to the death. That was why she was doing this. Even though Jedi shunned the dark side, she was no longer a Jedi.
The galaxy had been thrust into a time of darkness. And although some Jedi kept doing what they did best, and died, she believed the only way to hide in the darkness was to extinguish your light. They couldn't afford to be complacent anymore; that was what got them killed. They couldn't afford to stay on the defensive; there weren't enough of them. They needed to fight back.
They needed to strike from the shadows, keeping their enemy off balance. They needed to end the reign of the Sith once and for all. And that was something only a Jedi could do.
She turned from the window with a smirk. Though her once round cheeks were now gaunt, her once warm, gentle eyes wary and sharp, and her clothes of that of a down-on-her-luck spacer, she was pretty, and she knew it. And she wasn't afraid to use it to her advantage. Desperate times called for desperate measures.
A cruel smile touched her full lips. It was time to hunt.
Once she had been a Jedi.