CHAPTER-1

They tried to molest her. They tried to force her to obey their dominance but failed. They failed to manipulate what now was a beast. She was no longer a human who walked in shadows. She was the shadow in which a person walked. She was broken down, piece by piece. She was torn down, made to bleed. She lost the innocence which she once had. She was still young, way too young to lift a sword and murder anyone in the eyes of the galaxy. But in the eyes of the devils, she was of the right age. She bled like a beast, fed on blood like an animal. She was broken and left. She was the shadow of the devil. She was young, yes, younger than what the devil was. But she was lost already. She had accepted the dark side. She had seen far too much than what she was supposed to see. And that made her the shadow which many feared yet didn't know. For her age, she was supposed to learn about the galaxy's devils. But she had already become one. Darth Vader opened her eyes and stood up straight. She had just murdered eighteen men who tried to rape her. She murdered them in cold blood, with a sword of equally cold metal. She was covered in their blood along with the stains of many others. They told her that a woman of her age should be learning how to be a lady, but she silenced them for their talks were too frustrating for her ears to tolerate. She no longer hesitated to lift a weapon and whisper death into the ears of anyone. She used to, when she was a child; she used to hesitate to kill a person. But that hesitance, that innocence, was long gone. All that was left was a patch of skin of the past on the body of what she had become. She was just seventeen, but the older men feared her. She walked up to a bar. She had spent too much time on the planet of Nevarro. But she still had to be there. She had to stay there until her mission was completed. She opened the door of the bar and sat near the counter. She placed her hand on the counter and tapped twice.

"Coming, coming." The bartender told as he rushed to her. The bar was pretty empty. So the bartender took the pleasure of the less to none customers, to take a drink for him. He placed his mug of beer down and rushed to her.

"Corelian Brandy." She ordered. The bartender turned and fished out a bottle from the shelves.

"Trust me; my suppliers are being dishonest these days. Last night, I told that sick bastard to give me five cartons of Corelian brandy and he just sent me two! Like what on Nevarro am I supposed to do with only two Corelian brandy cartons? Many people ask for the brandy, you know. I mean you ask it every time you come here. You should try the other drinks, they're good too." He told. Vader heard quietly. She sighed deeply and replied.

"I would have a talk with your supplier if I were you."

"I know right. That's the thing, whenever I tell that sick bastard that we need to talk he comes up with one or the other excuse and fucks off to Force knows where. Darn that man." He cursed. At that moment, two people entered the bar; a Mandalorian in a blue and white armor and the pilot with whom Vader had arrived.

"Trust me that thing is the work of devil." The pilot was saying.

"What happened?" the bartender asked. The pilot came and stood beside Vader and the Mandalorian stood on the other side. The cold metal swords which were blood stained remained in their scabbard on her belt. She was still covered in blood.

"There are a bunch of men lying dead there. I counted sixteen but the bounty hunter says that there were eighteen." The pilot replied.

Vader sighed again. It was then that the pilot had a clear look of her. The bounty hunter already had realized what the pilot and the bartender hadn't; his hands were dangling near his blasters.

"Dank Ferrik girl! Here I was thinking that I gave taxi services to a random innocent girl. But bloody hell, you're a devil's chick." The pilot replied as he tapped on the counter.

"Now, now the men wouldn't be that badly murdered as you said." The bartender said as he poured some rum into the glass of the pilot. "What will you drink, sir? I haven't seen you around." He asked the Mandalorian.

"A normal beer will do fine. I'm new to the place." the Mandalorian replied. The pilot reached out for his glass and nodded at the bartender.

"Boy, you know what I want. And oh yes, the murder was absolutely a dirty work." He said.

"Only I didn't ask you, you fat blob. And as for the murder, just look at her. How much bloody do you think she could go?" he asked pointing to her. The pilot then reached out for her chin.

"I wouldn't do that, the blades are still bloody." The Mandalorian immediately said. The pilot took his hand back. The Mandalorian removed his helmet and began to drink. The bartender then turned to the pilot.

"You were saying?" he asked.

"Yeah, I mean the bodies were super bloody. Few had their balls chopped off, few more had their intestines hanging out of their bodies, and few others had their throat ripped away from their bodies and their eyes practically out of the sockets. Many had deep gashes across the entire body." The pilot replied. As soon as he said that, the bartender turned and began to puke.

"Boy, he got scared." The pilot commented as he rushed to help the bartender. Vader was alone with the bounty hunter.

"My ship is outside." He told her slowly.

"Have you got the delivery item?" she asked slowly.

"I have." He replied as he began to walk outside the bar. She followed him. They both reached an odd looking ship. He lowered the ramp and went inside the ship. He returned after a short while with a brown package in hand. He handed it to the girl.

"When you said that I'd find a mark, I expected something else." he said pointing to the pool of bodies which lay in front of the bar.

"What? Did you expect me to carve with their muscles?" she asked him while unpacking the package.

"Well no thanks. Just let me know how you liked the package." He replied. The package contained a dress of sorts. She held it up to see it in a better manner with disgust. She turned it around and turned to the hunter whose hands still dangled near his blaster.

"What is this?" she asked slowly.

"The costume you asked." He replied coolly.

"This should do the work, right?" she asked him again.

"It should." He replied. She nodded and turned away. He too turned to leave, when he suddenly realized something.

"Hey…" he called out to her. She stood where she was, slightly away from the ship.

"Why would you ask me?" he asked slowly.

"A man knows what another man wants the best." She replied as she walked away from him. He stood there, alone besides his ship. His work over there was done.

"How are things on Kamino?" she asked him suddenly. He turned towards her.

"They're good." he replied. She nodded and left. She walked inside the bar and stepped inside the bathroom. She turned on the shower and let the water wash away the blood stains from her face. Her hair was greasy and bloody. She lifted her hands and rustled her hair. She let the water soak her hair and squeezed the dirt out of it. The water which gushed out of her hair was black and reddish. She washed her hair with only water. She removed her clothes and let the water wash away all the sooth and blood on her body. The fair and scarred skin underneath all the sooth and blood was left unattended to for ages. Now it was time for her to care for it. She washed away the sooth and blood; she also found some pieces of human meat on her body. She didn't care. She had to wash up and be a doll. She put on the dress the Mandalorian had given her. Wet hair lying upon her back as she walked out of the bar and climbed on a speeder. Nobody noticed her leave, nobody should have. She drove the speeder to another bar in another district. How she managed to reach that bar that quick without the speeder bursting was no one's business.

The guards' feeble attempt to stop her from entering the bar with her swords cleaned and hanged at her belt didn't stop her. By the time she entered the private chambers of the bar, the swords were bloody again. Bodies lined up as she walked. She was wearing what could be called a bikini by many, but art by many too. Her wet hair was bloody again. She yawned as she stood at the door of the private chamber. She killed the guards with ease and proceeded to her victim; the only person who had a strong proof to put Nute Gunray behind the bar. He was dead of course, writhing like a worm under her foot. She turned and walked away. While she was leaving, she noticed a man who was still alive. He was holding on to his dead pregnant wife's body. She had cut her heart. She used the force to feel if the baby was still alive inside the womb. She was surprised to find that it was alive. So she extended a hand towards the womb and reached out to the child. She tore open the skin of the mother and pulled the child outside. The father stared in shock and fear. He extended a weak, shivering arm towards the child and gently caressed it. She smirked. She used the force to feel the organs of the child. The father and daughter were with each other. The father immediately held his daughter in his arms and kissed her. But Vader had connected with the organs of the child. Such a pity that it had to explode in its father's arms. The father wailed in sorrow. She laughed softly and walked out of the bar. She climbed the speeder and sped off to the bar where she left her clothes in. It was already night. The pilot was sitting inside the bar and was visibly concerned. The moment she entered, he felt as though someone had lifted a heavy weight of his shoulders.

"Where the hell were you? Why is there blood everywhere on your body?"He asked immediately. She ignored him and walked up to the washroom. She washed herself up and changed into her spare clothes. She then stepped out and sat near the counter.

"Do you want to answer my questions?" the pilot asked.

"No." she replied. Suddenly, her personal com-link chimed. A look of fear and terror took over her blank expressions. She immediately rose and rushed off to a personal chamber and activated the shields. She set the com-link on the table, answered the call and bowed low.

"Rise, my young apprentice." a deep, guttural voice came. She lifted her head up. The ocean blue eyes had changed to deep golden eyes.

"What is my bidding my master?" she asked in a toneless voice. Her face was again blank. The figure she was talking to was a cloaked one.

"Has the assignment given to you been dealt with?" he asked slowly.

"Yes, my lord." The reply came.

"Good, very good. Now return to Coruscant. I have a new mission for you. It is one that you might enjoy." He spoke slowly in a teasing manner.

"I shall leave Nevarro at once my lord." She replied in the same toneless voice which indicated neither submissiveness nor dominance. It didn't indicate any emotions, nor did it intend to. It wasn't stoic, nor was it sweet for that case. It was a ghost's voice, perhaps more than that. It was a dead voice, coming from a living. It was a voice no one wished to hear. But what could anyone say to her? She was meant to be one with such a voice. She was meant to be what she was.

oooooooooooooooo

NOTE: Sorry for the extreme delay. Here is the new update.