JAGGED SOUL
(Star Wars – Knights of the Old Republic II - Fan Fiction)
SPOILER warning SPOILER warning
Time
Set
A
bit before KotoR II
Characters
Well
who could it be? Hates Jedi, kills Jedi, makes them feel a REAL LOT
of pain and has alot of fun doing so. Oh – and he's obsessed with
Pazaak. Now I've given it away, haven't I?
Alas, everyone who knows me will soon figure out why I dig this character so much and how there was no way I'd pass up on that Fan Fiction.
Disclaimer and other Notes
Everything
Star Wars is sooooo copyrighted and owned by LucasArts and the
prospective companies creating the KotoR games and characters.
… and
I'm not native English, so excuse my vocabulary, will you?
Request
Due
to me being a wanna-be author who is working on her skills… I would
like to ask everyone who can spare a moment of their precious time to
be harsh to me. I need the critique.
Now on for the fun. This is my first try on something darker, I hope I can get it across.
The Stalker
The crowd on the market square was thick and so was the fog of emotions.
Bodies – alien, human, or mixes in-between – shifted in an uneven rhythm, pushing, avoiding, constantly in motion. Even those that stood in front of the merchant stalls, admiring what was for sale, fidgeted and twisted. They pointed, laughed, pulled out credit chips and then, as soon as their business was concluded, slipped back into the mass of moving bodies.
Situated a little off the center of the market square, was an elegant fountain with stepping-stones crossing through the sheets of falling water. Children of various races and ages – all that didn't matter, united in their games – ran through the jets, carefully dodging each other and the assaults of water spraying across the fountain.
It was chaos, yet peace.
Serenity, mixed with the deafening noise of joy.
Untouched, or maybe even inspired, by the crowd around them, was a pair of statues standing not far from the fountain's mid section. They were statues of flesh and blood of course, two humans in a still embrace.
He had watched them for quite a while now, had seen how they hardly ever moved to look at each other, or to whisper. They were no lovers, but the kinship of blood was a strong bond that kept brother and sister forever connected. Even if one of them had followed a codex that frowned upon this emotional tie.
In his mind he had nicknamed them the center of the storm. That small spot of tranquility surrounded by the rampant winds where one might seek temporary shelter. And ironically, he considered himself a part of that storm.
Rage – Fear – Guilt
A smile crept to his lips. Faint and lethal, and not quite reaching his eyes.
Delight – Lust – Exhilaration
The stalker, which was what some of his men called him, stepped away from the building flank and pushed his frame into the crowd. At first he was forced to follow the tide, moving with them, but soon he was back on course and headed straight for the fountain. Long, yet not hurried, strides took him to the fountain's edge, where the masses parted to avoid stray droplets of water. As soon as he reached them, the stalker acted.
He twisted his right hand – attached to his wrist at the bottom was a transponder – and keyed a sequence on the device. There was no affirmative BEEP or CLICK, instead, one of the stalls at the eastern corner of the marketplace went up in a thunderous explosion.
The explosives had been expertly set. It was just enough to blast the stall apart – along with the merchant droid – and scatter both debris and injured bodies into the crowd. Through the chaos that followed after the detonation, the stalker gained another moment to watch his target.
He had pulled his sister to the ground with him, shielding her instinctively, and was now scanning the area with watchful eyes and an equally alert mind. But there were too many for him to filter.
Carefully, the target got to his feet and the girl pulled herself up on his coat, clinging to his back like a scared gizka. Children dissolved from the scene, running into the crowd to find their parents.
Confusion – Panic
The stalker drew his weapon –a standard issued blaster pistol concealed in his jacket– and squeezed off one precise shot.
The girl jerked backwards as the blast hit her chest.
Her hands did not quite let go of her brother as she fell, and the target was almost thrown off balance, stumbling with his falling sister. He cried out, "Tiona", and knelt beside the crumbled figure, searching her for the wound that spilled bright crimson blood to mingle with the fountain's water.
'What a pathetic excuse for a challenge…' He was throughout disappointed.
While the target tore at the dying woman's clothing to locate the wound, the Stalker quickly closed the distance between them. When the desperate brother then finally did looked up it was already too late. Realization crossed the young features; a moment in which all what was left of the carefully trained calm was shattered. The target's hands were only quick enough to grab his weapon, but he had no time to use it.
The Stalker's boot connected with his chin and sent the target flying backwards. His skull cracked against the ground, creating a hollow thud, and the lightsaber hilt dislodged itself from his grip. It bounced across the stone pavement, stopping as it hit the rim of a stepping-stone.
"Bad move, Jedi" taunted Rand as he loosened two more shots from the blaster pistol, each intended for one kneecap. Cries of pain mingled with the target's throaty pleads to spare his sister, but unfortunately, for that it was already too late.
