Disclaimer: I don't own KOTOR 1 or 2. At least not while I'm awake. (lol) Can you claim the Exile as your own once you name him or her? (curious) However I do own the Forsaken One.  Enjoy and please don't sue me! If I had the money to be sued, I'd own George Lucas himself, but as you can see I don't. (lol) 

Note: I played both KOTOR 1 and 2 as a light side female, (or at least I tried, but I mostly came out slightly better then neutral) Damn morals and ethics, who needs 'em?

Exile in KOTOR 2 is known as Catianka Relden (Cat-e-an-ka Rel-den)

Murderous Mind

Chapter 1 Awaken

(((Wake Up)))

(((It's time to begin!)))

Curston slowly opened her eyes and screamed, she was blind, she couldn't see anything but a huge blinding white light that seemed to have no end. She snapped her eyes shut and tried to move her hands to cover them but she found they were tied together in front of her.

She was lost, confused, she had no idea where she was. Hell she didn't even know if she was standing or lying down. Although a reasoning voice said wheedling into her brain, you don't feel anything against your back so maybe your standing.

Curston stomped her foot and felt the impact of something solid beneath her and she sighed inwardly. Okay that one question answered, she was standing but she still didn't know where and she wasn't about to open her eyes again.

She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out and she went into panic mode again. Why couldn't she speak? Was her voice gone, and if so how had that happened? Again the reasonable voice interrupted her panicked thoughts. Try again; you were able to scream earlier, it whispered.

Curston drew and unsteady breath and opened her mouth to scream and this time a harsh horrible sound came from her mouth it sounded like it hadn't been used in a hundred years. Okay so she was standing up and something was wrong with her voice.

She began fidgeting with the bonds that held her hands together until finally she managed to slip one hand out she then released the other and almost cried out in delight. She had her hands free, which meant that she could try opening her eyes again. She placed her hand completely over her eyes and opened her eyes her hands kept most of the light out but it was enough to where her eyes could adjust a little at a time.

After several moments she was able to completely remove her hand and was met with a very strange sight. She was in an empty kolto tank, seconds later, she realized she was in a med bay of some sort. Her eyes wandered the expanse of the room she was in, there were a few other tanks but they were empty.

She opened the door to her tank and fell out of it; obviously she was unused to using her legs because they felt foreign to her. She slowly dragged herself to the center of the room and just lay there trying to remember what had happened and where she was.

Suddenly bits and pieces of images began flooding her mind too quickly for her to make sense of them. Pain, bodies lying around her, blood seeping through her clothes. Her hands trembling as she stared at the body of a young man, not much older then herself.

He had a gaping hole in his abdomen and the fresh copper tang of blood was in her nose and mouth making her gag. She gazed down at her trembling blood soaked hands and cursed the day she was born. Curston woke with a gasp, she slowly raised herself to a sitting position and gazed around again, she was still in the same room, and nothing had changed.

She had killed people, lots of them in that war, the Mandalorian War but even more in the Jedi Civil War. She suddenly remembered everything, everything that had happened. She still didn't know how she had gotten into the tank, all she did know was she had to find a way out and figure out where she.

Although it was surprising that the med bay was still in fairly good condition. Most of the ones she'd seen since her service had been partially blown away by one side or the other. She had felt sorry for the innocent people who hadn't chosen sides who were killed in the process, at first. After a year of constant death, fighting, winning, losing she had lost all cares.

She killed when she was told too, killed when she was angry, killed whenever she damn well felt like killing something. It had become an addiction, an addiction that was very appealing to the Sith who saw her on the battlefield. The Sith Lords would purposely send whole legions of Sith soldiers to their deaths at the hands of her troop, but most fell to her, and yes eventually she grew tired of only killing the Sith and began murdering anyone who crossed her path just to be rid of them.

That is until she met the Sith Lord Ojis who told her that her prowess on the battlefield was unmatched. That he knew of a way to complete the void she had been cast into. Her desire to stop feeling all together was what drove her to the Sith. Her need to be nothing but everything at the same time drove her to becoming a Sith Lord.

She hadn't even noticed the change in herself but maybe that was because there was no change. Sith, Republic, they were just names. She had no name she was simply the Forsaken One. The one all had forgotten, the one that no one cared to acknowledge.

Eventually even the Sith feared her blood lust and had forged mutiny beneath her until finally she was cast out, still nameless, still unknown. She had faded into the shadows but someone had found her.

(Celsie) Big Note here in case you got confused. Curston has been in the kolto tank since the middle of the Jedi Civil War. The story takes place after KOTOR 2. She doesn't realize she's been in there for more then a day or two. This is also my first KOTOR fic so hang in there please and let me know how I'm doing.