Of Flesh and Bone
ToriCookie78
Summary: Have you ever had a shit day? I mean a shit day, like a get-murdered-by-a-raging-homicidal-psychopath-and-then-get-stuck-in-his-weapon-for-the-rest-of-foreseeable-eternity kind of day?
No?
Well count yourself lucky.
AKA the story of Aliana Monista. Once a Padawan. Once a human. Now a lightsaber previously owned by the biggest jackass in the galaxy.
Also known as the story of how Aliana Monista falls in love with a farmboy and finds her own redemption in the process.
A/N: AN: We make no claim to Star Wars and anything you likely recognize. Aliana Monista is, however, our original creation and we would appreciate it if it stayed that way :)
Aliana Monista did not live what could be defined as a "normal" life. And yes, that's even if you were to include her fellow Jedi. Which Ali does, much to their general displeasure. So naturally, it only follows that she would not die a normal death.
Ironically, it all begins on a fairly normal day—well, as normal as her days have been, having recently made the transition from Youngling to Padawan. It's been... different for her, to say the least, suddenly going from guided meditations with Master Yoda to having a Master of her own. Master Jocasta Nu and Ali were still getting acquainted, having not been together for very long, and it shows. Their relationship isn't strained, but it's certainly a little awkward, despite Master Nu's best efforts.
Master Nu is showing her how to access the back archives—you know, the stuff that requires codes to get into, the kind of stuff that's normally forbidden—when it begins. There's... Ali doesn't know how to describe it, except to say that there's a disturbance in the Force, a hush that falls across all her senses, like she's suddenly gone numb to the world, and all that's left is— g.
Ali turns to Master Nu, confused, but her Master isn't looking at her; Nu's gaze is focused squarely on the entrance of the Library, but even Ali, inexperienced as she is, can tell that her Master is worried more about the Temple beyond it.
"Master?" Ali asks, shuddering as the Force whispers again, this time more urgently.
And then, the screaming starts.
She's not sure where she hears it first: in her head or out loud, but what she does know is that Master Nu's yellow lightsaber is drawn and she's being pushed into the back room.
"Listen closely, young one," and Master Nu is so calm that Ali has to be too. "I'm going to gather all the Younglings, and you're going to protect them," and Nu says it so casually that Ali has to accept her words as fact. Then, with a soft, but no less urgent hand on her shoulder, Master Nu adds, "Everything will be fine."
Ali doesn't even know what's happening, let alone how Master Nu knows that everything will "be fine", but she figures she has two options and the better of them is to trust Master Nu and trust in the Force. The alternative, which is to start panicking at the sheer amount of stimuli in the Force and eventually have a breakdown, is not an option Ali wishes to consider.
Ali nods to her Master, who returns the motion with a great amount of severity before darting off with her lightsaber ablaze. The last Ali sees of Master Nu is like fading golden sunlight on a warm day, and then Ali's hand wanders down to her own weapon, clipped onto her belt. Taking a deep breath, Ali grips the weapon in both her hands and stares down the door, hoping nothing will find her.
Oh, how naive she is.
The door to the back archives opens three more times that day.
The first time, it's to let in a creche of younglings her master had undoubtedly directed here. They're followed by the sound of screams and blaster fire, the smell of blood and smoke lingering still on their flesh.
"What's happening?" Ali demands of them, taking count of how many made it. Fourteen. Of the thirty in the class, less than half made it her. Fear, which she's already become so well acquainted in the past hour, burrows its way into her gut.
"T-the clones," one of the Younglings sobs, hands fisted tight in his tunic, like the piece of clothing will be able to save him. "They're attacking us!"
"The clones?" Ali echoes, reaching into the Force as her Master taught her. It swirls around her, a mixture of pain and shock, of horror, and even still, despite it all, peace. But there's something else, something beyond it all, something approaching and when Ali turns her senses towards it, she physically jolts. Pure... pure evil is inside the temple.
She wants to be brave, wants to lead the Younglings in group meditation, tell them that the Force will guide them, that sometimes the best course of action is no course of action, but she can't. She can't just sit still, can't just wait for evil to come knocking on their door, can't wait for evil to kill the Younglings, to kill her.
So she looks.
She looks frantically, and she's unafraid of how she looks to the Younglings, because she is rattled and she isn't brave, and she can't even pretend to be after sensing that. Mind whirling, she pulls up the datapad directory of the holocrons, quickly typing in search words like "Protect," "Defend," "Hide," and "Live."
One of these cubes must have some form of ancient knowledge that can save them.
The second time is an accident. It happens as Ali is frantically pulling several holocrons off the wall. Holocrons that are dark in color, holocrons that are pyramidal, holocrons that make her skin crawl and a shiver rush down her spine just from touching them, but hey, beggars can't be choosers, and she doesn't have time to feel bad about accessing the forbidden when their lives are at stake. One of the Younglings slumps against the wall, close enough to the door control panel for it to trigger. When the door slides open, Ali and the fourteen Younglings catch just a glimpse of what has happened to their home—of what is happening to their home.
The Temple Library is being destroyed—that is to say, if one wouldn't call it that already. The statues of Jedi Masters have been forced off their pedestals, marble dashed across the floor in heavy chunks. The computer terminals look to be completely fried, shot up with blaster bolts. The study tables have either been knocked over or are similarly riddled with holes from blaster fire. Some are a messy combination of both. The tall datapad-cases, symbols of knowledge and learning that had lured Ali to the Temple Library as a Youngling, are in the process of being toppled over by men in white armor. The men in white armor who had once been their friends.
One of the Younglings lets out a wail, and the troopers turn their attention onto them. In the two seconds it takes for the archive door to close again, the clones have already shot five of them with deadly accuracy.
The younglings are all crying now, no sense of silent terror left.
And Ali wishes she knew how to make them stop, stop so that she can think, can gather her thoughts, but the only ones that are silent are the ones that are dead, and she doesn't want that.
So she fumbles with the holocrons, reaches out to them with the Force, tries to determine which one is the right one, but who's to say. The Force gives her nothing, tells her nothing. She picks one of the three she'd set aside at complete random, and tries to shush the sobbing Younglings as she activates it.
The man who appears in the midst of them is not someone Ali recognizes from any of her lessons. His eyes shine unnaturally bright even through the holocron, and his hair sweeps easily down past his collar bones.
The only warning she gets is his deep voice rumbling: "Repeat after me." And then he's saying things in a language she doesn't understand, and it's all she can do to follow along with what he's saying, let alone pausing it long enough to get the Younglings to do the same.
She urges them all to their feet, urges their lightsabers to their hands in a poor mimicry of the holocron, urges them with her words and with the Force to remain calm, and it works.
Ali's voice is shaky as she tells them to be One with the Force, to just breathe, and to repeat the words the holocron is spouting, words that flow steadily out of the man's mouth in a language that she doesn't know, saying things that she can't even guess at.
Judging by the silence, the Holocron has finished and when she opens her eyes, her lightsaber weighs heavily in her palms.
The Younglings are gone. All that remains are their lightsabers and her.
And then the holocron explodes.
Amidst charred metal and fine shards of crystal, Ali opens her eyes, and so too opens the door for the third and final time. Though, can you really consider it having opened when it's blasted off its hinges? She reaches for her lightsaber, stretches out her arm to the fullest extent, tries to call for it, but receives nothing in return. Maybe it's gone too, gone like the Younglings. Are they dead? Is she dead?
No.
The repressing force of the evil being she felt earlier bears down upon her, grinds her movements to a halt. She's paralyzed with fear, and it's all she can do to roll over and face the evil head on. If she's going to die, she won't die a coward.
Yellow eyes glint at her from under the cowl shrouding his face, but when he raises his blue lightsaber, Ali sees Master Skywalker. And, as he brings down the lightsaber to rend her flesh from bone, she vows to never forget.
A/N: Hope you enjoyed- the ride only gets more wild from here on out! If you would like to see more of this fic, please make sure to support us by leaving reviews and following and favoriting-doing so lets us know that we're doing something right, and may result in quicker updates and us prioritizing this fic over others.