Star Wars Galaxies:Jahdi
Life, my Father once told me, boils down to a collection of moments strung out over the course of your years. Most of them are bland - you get up, you brush your teeth, you eat, you go to school. And so on.
Then there are the once in a lifetime moments. The ones you think about all the time.
The really good ones, like falling in love, you want to remember. You endure the mundane ones just to get to these.
But the bad ones...the ones that blindside you and leave you bleeding and gasping for breath? These are the ones you want to forget, but can't. Even if you've fooled yourself into thinking you have, you haven't.
I knew it was some grand pep talk about our roles as entertainers - the healers of the galaxy, helping the ones that were blindsided and needed help in forgetting. Of course, like anyone my age, I viewed anything my parents said as nonsense. The people I entertained were like me - well off, well bred, untouchable and in need of diversion not healing. We could well afford to escape being blindsided, so I thought. It never occurred to me that we couldn't. And when it did happen, it never occurred to me to try to forget.
Coronet, Corellia
Jahdi remembered this.
When the high pitched "thwoop" of a laser shot from a blaster cut through the air and hit the back of Zilt's head, his eyes and mouth opened slightly, as if mildly surprised, just before he pitched forward and landed on her. Caught off guard, she staggered backwards, and fell under the combined weight of his body and armor. As she lay there, senses were magnified and dulled simultaneously: eyes blinded by flashing brilliant lights, ears deafened by the explosions surrounding her, mouth numb with the taste of acrid fumes. Except for that smell. Of burnt flesh and battle armor. That always stayed with her.
A screaming silence filled the air. Nothing but the sound of her own breath, rapid and heavy. She closed her eyes. This isn't happening to me. She wanted to get up. She wanted to run home, to her room, to her bed, under the covers, and pretend that this had never happened.
-Are you sure you don't want me to come along?
-Mother- Jahdi said as she picked up her bags. -You know I hate long drawn out goodbyes-. Quick hugs, eyes brimming with tears and pride, picking up Lohwa and driving into that day, towards the spaceport. A beautiful Coronet summer day with skies the color of a blue marble, and buildings that glittered like diamonds in the sunshine. Two tickets to New Hope, Naboo, the Imperial Ballet Company and a future.
That was fifteen minutes before they arrived at the spaceport, she calculated. Ten minutes ago they met Zilt waiting for the shuttle like they were. Five minutes ago, Zilt told them he was on his way to his first assignment. Less then one second later, in the blink of an eye, he was dead.
How the hell can your life just change like that?
"Lohwa get down," she hissed.
We stay put, we stay still, we live. It's what they do in the holovids.
The last thought struck her as funny and she buried her face in Zilts limp neck to contain her laughter.
Time passed and finally she felt something nudge her side. Opening her eyes and turning towards the voice, she saw the figure of a Twi'lek dressed in red and recognized what could be called a uniform, not imperial, and a blaster pointed toward her.
"Get up!" he barked. "GET. UP."
Jahdi squirmed from under Zilt, her hair disheveled, clothes dirty. She struggled to her feet, and faced him. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Lohwa sitting there whimpering, hugging her knees to her chest. Rebels in red dotted the area, rushing around doing...what they do. Except for this one standing there, watching them with a blaster in his hand. A sickening feeling began in the pit of her stomache, made its way up her chest and lodged itself in her throat.
This wasn't anything like a holovid. There was nothing exciting or noble or romantically tragic about it. She was going to die. He was going to shoot her first. Then Lowha. And they were going to die.
"What are you doing Vorenth?" An older man came up behind him, dressed in the same uniform. Human, weathered, more calm than his younger twitchy counterpart.
He looked her over cautiously. After a few questions and Jahdi's monotonous replies, he turned to his teammate and said "Put it down. These two are about as dangerous as a pair of roo roos."
"Very well, Miss." Suddenly he was polite. A polite terrorist. "Sorry you had to see that," he said. A polite, apologetic terrorist. "You're safe now."
"Safe? But..."
Having dismissed her as a non threat, he knelt by Zilt's body and began rifling through the dead soldiers belongings. "Yes well. You're free now. And you should go home."
"Free?" Jahdi blinked at him, in a stupor.
He looked up. "Yes. From the Empire's tyranny and oppression. Coronet is free and soon all of Corellia will be."
She stared at him. I didn't know we needed to be free.. She stared back down at Zilt, at the black charred remains of the back of his head.
"Well, " he said, "You should be on your way."
She couldn't move. Heat creeped accross her face, hands clenched into fists as a rush of emotions threatened to engulf her. Disbelief, rage and worst of all helplessness. She watched as he looted Zilt's body. It seemed so wrong and sacriligious. What was worse, she stood there and did nothing. She didn't know what to do.
Then she saw it. A datapad. He missed it. How could he miss something like that? Even Jahdi knew that from the holovids. What was on it? His orders? Last letter home? A strange focus and calm settled over her as her mind fixated on it. All of a sudden, Jahdi had discovered a new purpose for her life: she was going to get that goddamn pad, if it was the last thing she did. Making sure that no one was watching, Jahdi leaned down, closed Zilt's eyes with one hand and with the other she grabbed the pad quickly and shoved it into her bag.
Mission accomplished, she stepped over Zilt's body and grabbed Lohwa, still whimpering, and roughly pulled her up to her feet. Head lifted, facing forward Jahdi dragged her through the city. Past the gaping holes in the ground, past ruined buildings that no longer glittered like diamonds, past the scattered bodies of troopers and innocents alike. They walked through the city gates until she felt the soft grass under her feet, the evening breezes on her face carrying with them the faint scent of orange flowers and the burnt flesh of dead soldiers.
