Repetitive: I don't own KoToR

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Guilty Bonds

Chapter 3, Living Dead

The young woman, aging before her very own eyes, stared at the destruction in front of her. The unit she had been given was laying in front of her, broken and battered. The Sith weren't here. They had left her, and her alone. Their mistake.

She took her necklace off with numb, unfeeling fingers. She wasn't sure how to start up the series of locks.

"Activate sequence." She tried.

"Password?"

The General cursed. Password? Had Bao-Dur ever mentioned anything about a password? She racked her brain, pulling through each conversation they had for almost five minutes.

"Password?" Bao-Dur's voice repeated.

Then an idea popped into her head, "Last resort."

"Voice print confirmed. Scan." Bao demanded.

She put the red class to her eye, the laser scanning very carefully. She kept fighting the urge to blink the blinding red light out.

"Confirmed. Deoxyribose Nucleic Acid Identification." He stretched out the word to avoid alien detection. Lauren placed the container's end on the inside of her lower lip. There was a silght pinch, then a loud click.

"Orders, General?" she could almost swear he was next to her. She took a few moments to clear her mind and steady her voice. "Take your time, General."

She laughed, at Bao-Dur's kindness. He knew this would be hard.

"Activate the Shadow Mass Generator."

"Repeat."

He made sure this was what she wanted to do, "Activate the Shadow Mass Generator."

"Confirmed. Was an honor, General."

She took a breath, and waited. The planet shook beneath her, and she felt the effects of the weapon immediately. People were dying- screaming-crying-dying. She tried to close her mind and wait her turn, wait for the silent embrace of the Force. It didn't come. For hours, she was forced to endure. Her mind was breaking. She could hear herself verbally begging for it to end, for some peace, if only for a moment. She wanted respite, forgiveness, death. Anything but this.

Days passed. She spent them lying on the tremulous ground writing in agony. Lauren didn't know how much more she could take. How much could a person be expected to endure and still be the same? Or sane?

Her eyes were open and blood shot. There was a green glow on the planet. And a whining, high pitched sound. She couldn't place it's location, but it sounded close. Her stomach growled, and she had enough training to know that soon enough, her body would begin to consume itself. Force, why wasn't she dead yet?

Was this her punishment for this mass murder? For killing so many so quickly without proper burial services? Her existence was a crime, she could feel that right now, in every fiber of her being. She should never have been born, or thought of. This was horrible.

After a while, she stopped paying attention. She didn't want to die aware. She retreated into her mind, trying to find solace in happy memories. She found none, but it helped a little.

Then, things got quiet. She smiled- or at least, she felt like she was smiling- to herself triumphantly. She had won.

She was finally free of the oppressiveness of listening, feeling, living everyone on this planet's death. It was greatly welcome.

Then she became very disoriented. She could hear voices.

"She's alive-barely. Starved, dehydrated, deeply unconscious. She's been fighting death hard. She should be fine."

No! She hadn't fought at all! She'd begged for death. Begged, with tears, on her knees, cursing angrily at the sky as humans were wont to do. Why had she survived? What was she supposed to do now? There was no solace.. no... future. Nothing. She tried to voice her wishes.

"Just sleep, Lauren. You'll be better soon."

She could feel an injection in her arm when she realized. She was being punished, definitely. The Force was laughing at her for taking things into her own hands. So, as she faded back out, she decided to bare this. Alone. But first, she had to go and answer to the Jedi. Accept their punishment as well.

She owed them that much.

Everyone who met the woman after that could so easily see, she wasn't living. She was a shell of a woman, walking among the living. At least, most thought after walking away from her, she did not suck all of your energy out. She just left you feeling tired, and you wanted to go out and...live.

Ten Years Later

Her four and half month vigil was over. She was now free to move again. She had the list of ships departing within the next week. She could afford any one of them, but she had no real interest. Lauren stared at the list for too long and put it aside. She could wait until the next day to decide.

She looked at her bare accommodations. It was nicer than apartments she had stayed at, but she didn't feel comfortable here. It looked to...neat. She passed the mirror on the way to the kitchen. It was a grim sight, but one she was used to. She looked older than she was, but then again, she felt older than she would hopefully ever be.

Her hair wasn't gray, but it sure wasn't shiny or soft like it used to be before...

She ate silently, and took back to looking at the list. She picked up a pencil from her counter top, and began swaying it over the pages. She quickly tossed it up and looked where the graphite marked.

SS Harbinger.

She circled it neatly, put the pencil back in her bag, and went on the holonet to purchase her ticket. She didn't look at the destination, the crew, the cargo. Didn't care. She just needed to keep moving. Keep...running. Because that's what she was good at.

It's what had killed thousands upon thousands of people before- her cowardice. And if she let herself think about it- she would lose every inch of composure she'd worked for. So she took her sleeping meds and didn't dream.

Ah, the benefits of an addiction.