I, SteelAvian, do not own Star Wars or any related characters, emblems, etc. I merely write fanfiction for my own practice and enjoyment.
Apology Accepted
A large, six-fingered hand laid itself onto the young Kaleesh woman's head, gently speaking assurance to the crying girl. The general's amber eyes, despite their warm hue, were glazed over with the chill of a cold, unscrupulous heart. He looked down at his weeping daughter. Many of his old companions had said that he and daughter were like mirrors, always reflecting. Now they were completely different.
Dead, dead
were the words
in my ear.
Dead, dead,
was all I
could hear.
But, Father said he would come back.
Lo, Daddy's alive!
They turned him into a machine.
What they did, what he was,
was like nothing I've ever seen.
In this form he was redesigned
and from his lordly post
he resigned.
Lookie here!
New job for you, sir.
Just give us your body and your mind
and good golly, sir,
you'll be fine!
But his soul was still there, right?
The general reached into his cape and pulled out a tubular hilt, the handle of a lightsaber. He pushed the button and the blade came out, shining and glowing in its green-white glory. The general's daughter did not look up.
A quick thrust
into the head.
In just a moment,
she'll be dead.
I hear these words,
yours, but not your own.
Death, blood, carnage,
I've never before known.
Father, Father,
what have you done?
Father, Father,
what have you become?
He is General Grievous, stupid girl.
" I'm sorry, Rallamei," he said to his daughter softly, "You know too much."
The lightsaber's blade slid almost gracefully through Rallamei's face, pointing upward to the ceiling through her leathery, burgundy head. Grievous pulled out the blade, letting her limp body slump to the floor. Standing nonchalant, he inhaled the sickening scent of cauterized skin, bone and brain. He took a last glance at his daughter's body, turned away, and left without a word.
Now she's dead,
as dead as dreams.
"I'm sorry" Is more brutal
than it seems.
Apology accepted.