Disclaimer: All rights belong to Disney, George Lucas, and all the men and women that created the Star Wars movies, books, and comics. I take no credit, and I do not mean to break any copyright rules. This is simply a work of fiction made for enjoyment. No money is being made. The cover art image belongs to peanutbutterroastedchestnuts. tumblr .com (remove the spaces)
Rating: T for violence, disturbing imagery, and dark themes
Chapter 9
Inner Rim, Unknown Sector, Gorse System, 39 BBY
"I thought you said he was hiding out here," I grumble for the billionth time, kicking a small rock across the dusty ground. We're at a part of the planet that is only a few miles from the inhabitable part, meaning it's hot, almost sunny, and abandoned. And when I say abandoned, I mean even Hoth felt like it had more life in it.
"You don't have much patience," Qui-Gon observes, closing his eyes and looking with the Force. Obi-Wan jogs over from a small cave he'd been searching. "Not there, either."
"Patience ruins my killer battle reflexes," I murmur, knowing the Jedi Master won't hear me. Crouching down, I run my hands along the dry and cracked ground. There are some faint, oval-shaped indents. "Has it rained recently?"
"The day we arrived," Obi-Wan answers.
"Which was?"
"Early yesterday. We tracked him here, but as you can see, there's not sufficient cover. After the rain passed we went back into the city."
"There are tracks here. We should follow them as far as we can. KZ, get over here." My droid reluctantly leaves Qui-Gon's side and rolls up to me. "Scan these tracks and follow them. I think they'll show us something we missed."
KZ-4 rolls forward, the sensors leading us from track to track.
As we walk, I begin to interrogate the Jedi. Some things just don't add up. This whole arrangement, for example. "Why did you guys want my help? There's plenty of Jedi around, and instead you settle for a Sith? We're supposed to be mortal enemies and stuff."
"The difference between Sith and Jedi is the philosophy that drives us to do what we do," Qui-Gon explains. "Our morals and thoughts collide with those of the Sith. The Sith only want power, and we only want peace, so we worked to eradicate them to bring peace."
"Okay but you didn't answer my question."
"Some of us don't really consider you a Sith," Obi-Wan jumps in, cutting to the chase. "You want power, but not ruling-the-galaxy power. Your philosophy seems to differ from ours and that of the Sith. I suppose you could say the enemy of my enemy is my friend."
"I've done some horrible things in the past, though," I tell them, a flash of memory jumping up. There's a body and my name spelled out in blood. It's an incident I try my hardest to ignore and forget about, especially since I don't remember actually committing the crime. I did, though. Somehow I know I did. And that's not the only felony. There's the Tarkins on Eriadu whom I had slaughtered mercilessly for no reason except to regain my lost reputation among the Sith Lords. Those are only two of many incidents.
"But it's in the past," Obi-Wan argues. "Lately you haven't been as violent."
Someone hasn't heard about the incident on Eriadu yet. He'll learn in time, though, and the two of them, just like everyone else, will be ready to try and take me out of the equation.
"You say the Jedi monitor me," I say slowly, gauging their reactions. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon simply nod, betraying nothing. I continue, "So let me guess. Because of our history, you were assigned to recruit me on a mission to judge my morals and basically watch everything I do. Once this mission is over and we split paths you'll run back to your little Jedi Council and tell them all about me, and then the Council will decide whether I'm a threat or not."
Qui-Gon doesn't attempt to hide the truth. "Partially, yes. The Council is interested in your progress."
"My progress? What, the level of badness in me? Do you think I'm being 'cured' of the darkness inside my heart?" It's ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous. I hadn't thought the Council was this naive.
"Ever since departing from the other Sith and travelling alone, your morals have shifted drastically. You don't just kill anyone in your way; now you only harm those who are already bad. I saw it when we worked together three years ago, and I've seen it again through the accounts of others," Qui-Gon corrects.
The accounts of others? I'm being spied on? Great. Don't you just love the subtlety of the Jedi?
"My ambitions are simply not as high as my master's are. I am a Sith still. I use the dark side to accomplish my goals. I'm not a good person."
"For a Sith, you are." And suddenly I understand why the Jedi aren't trying to kill me, at least not yet.
"There can only be two Sith," I declare, stopping and making eye contact with both of them. "And while I'm alive, my master cannot take on another apprentice - an apprentice who will actually crave power. Because I don't follow my master and since I'm not a threat to the galaxy as a whole, you're keeping me alive. I'm only here because I'm the lesser evil!" A laugh escapes from my lips, wild and loud. "You Jedi sure are twisted."
"Not Qui-Gon," Obi-Wan defends. "I'm here because the Council ordered us to be here. Qui-Gon believes in you. He's been waiting for an excuse to be able to work with you again for three years."
"You believe in me?" I question, turning to the Jedi Master. Obi-Wan's words from the first night on Gorse come to mind: "My master thinks there is good in you; he thinks you will turn to the light side one day."
"Oh, I see. You want to take me on as your newest project. You like to find people with potential and help them along with life, right? And your goal is to make me what, not a Sith? A valiant effort, but it's not going to happen. Once the dark side takes control of you there is no going back."
"That's not true." Qui-Gon shakes his head. "If you master both sides of the Force you can be free of the hold of the dark side. It is a constant battle, but not one that is uncommon. Even the Jedi fight the darkness inside of ourselves on a daily basis. The difference between us is that the Sith would rather use that power instead of fighting to balance it."
"You're hoping that if I hang out with you guys for long enough that I'll have the urge to learn the light side or something? Good luck with that." The conversation closes and I continue to watch KZ-4 scurry around, his scanners wildly spinning as he works hard. He's probably trying to impress the Jedi.
Another thought occurs to me as we continue hiking. If Cad Bane really does have two of the most powerful lightsaber blades in the galaxy, then why would they risk Jedi to capture him? By having Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan - arguably the best combat team among the Order - team up with a Sith - who can hold her own quite well, I might add - they're only putting out two Jedi to potentially be defeated. If I am injured or if I die, well, that's one less problem for them to deal with later on. For them, it's a win-win situation.
Glad I'm so indispensable.
We follow my droid for about an hour as he leads us closer and closer to the inhabitable part of the planet. "If he goes any farther we'll burn up," Qui-Gon observes, rolling up the sleeves of his robes. It is indeed getting hotter, and sunnier, too.
"He couldn't have gone much further unless he wanted to melt alive," Obi-Wan agrees.
My droid suddenly stops, beeping. "He says the tracks end here. There's nothing here." I turn in a circle, seeing only dust and dirt and some big rock formations. It's silent, only a few gusts of wind interrupting us. Those gusts of wind might be welcomed if they weren't as dry and hot as the still air.
"Have I mentioned how much I hate the heat? In this week alone, I've been on Tatooine, stranded on Jakku, stuck wandering around Moraband, and now I'm here. I'm not going to wait for him to show up." Yeah, I'm being whiny, but patience has never been my strong suit. Besides, when you're a Sith, you get away with being spoiled.
"You're going back?" Obi-Wan asks, disappointment on his face. He thinks I'm deserting them. That stings, even though it shouldn't. Who is he to talk? He's only here with me because the Council ordered him to spy on me, to gauge my threat-level and to see how bad I really am. Still, I find myself feeling defensive.
"What? No. I'm loyal. Once I make a commitment, I follow it through. I'm just going to draw him out instead of waiting." Jogging forward, I begin to scale the large rock formation in from of us. Nothing like getting on the high ground. About halfway up I glance behind my back at the two Jedi. They're watching me with amused looks. Glad I can entertain them for a while.
I'm about three quarters of the way up when I hear the shout. My head snaps up and it's then that I see the blue skin and large red eyes of the Duros male. There's a buzzing sound and I see the tell-tale bronze blade of the Heart of the Guardian crystal-embedded lightsaber in one hand, the unique cyan blade of the Mantle of the Force crystal lightsaber in the other hand. Both swing towards me in an X formation, and I thrust my arms up, using the Force to fling myself high into the air. I land on top of the rock pile and turn around to face Cad Bane.
His blue face is completely passive as he advances. I'm not fooled by his pretense; I know the Mantle of the Force crystal can enhance Force abilities and the Heart of the Guardian enhances speed and agility. "Glad you could make it," he says slowly, a smile inching across his face.
My black robe hits the ground as I fling it off and reach at my belt for my lightsaber. My red blade glows like fire as it streaks through the air to intercept Cad's bronze blade. Then he attacks with both of them, his arms flying as he forces blow up blow at me. It's all I can do to intercept his blades with mine before they slice off parts of my body. I can't imagine that would be pleasant at all.
We duel for a few minutes before Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon make it up, but even as they join the fight he kicks out, his foot hitting my stomach with the Force behind it and causing me to fly backwards. My body hits the ground hard, the breath knocked out. Judging from the pain it takes to breathe, I'm guessing he hit me hard enough to bruise or even crack some of my ribs. Not cool.
Eventually I make my way back up, pain flaring at every movement. Pain is just an illusion of the mind, I tell myself, forcing my body to keep moving. My vision dots in and out for a second and when I blink it clear, I see that Obi-Wan is nowhere in sight and Qui-Gon is getting his butt handed to him. Great. What help those Jedi are. Looks like I'm going to be saving them - again.
I make it to the battle right as Cad is going in for the killing strike. My red lightsaber catches the bronze one, flipping it into the air and away. The bounty hunter kicks the fallen Jedi Master off of the cliff - Qui-Gon will probably survive, he'll just be in a lot of pain - and turns his attention to me. We spar for a few minutes, glowing blades clashing and spinning through the air. I'm weakened by my weariness and my injuries, and every breath painful, but he's fresh and empowered by the special blades. Even my skills, which I've honed over the years, are no match for the ancient crystals. He finally uses the Force to yank my lightsaber out of my hands and to throw it off the formation after Qui-Gon. I look around frantically and see the Heart of the Guardian lightsaber, but before I can call it to me Cad beats me to it. Turning it on, he confidently gets closer. I stumble back and my foot catches on a rock and I fall backward, hitting the ground hard. Cad walks over me, holding the two lightsabers an inch from my neck on both sides. I attempt to get up but he steps on my dominant wrist and puts weight on it. The pain intensifies for a moment before exploding as I hear the delicate bones snap. I can't stop the cry of pain that forces itself from my throat.
He must really like to see me suffer because he steps on my other wrist, too. By now I'm in shock from the pain, and I don't feel anything. My vision begins to spot again, and he raises the two lightsabers.
This is it. He's going to kill me. In a last-ditch attempt I try to stop the blades' progress with the Force, but my mind can't focus with all the pain. The weapons seem to come down in slow motion, and I can't help but notice this doesn't feel right. This isn't how I'm supposed to go.
Then a bright blue lightsaber appears, catching the bronze and cyan ones and thrusting them up and away. The bounty hunter is disarmed, and he stumbles away in defeat, probably trying to escape the immediate threat. I hear his footsteps as he runs, but there isn't a second pair following. Why aren't any of the Jedi chasing him?
My eyes flicker uncontrollably and close, and before the darkness completely takes over I feel someone picking me up. My last thought is of their loyalty and how they didn't ditch me. I'm just a weakened Sith, and instead of killing me or leaving me for dead they're taking care of me.
For the first time in my life, I'm not being abandoned.
Core Worlds Region, Coruscant Subsector, Corusca Sector, Unknown System, 50 BBY
My mother and I have a small apartment in the lower levels of Coruscant, "affectionately" called the Underworld. It's crowded and dark down here. The air is toxic, having been cut off from the surface thousands of years ago, and crime runs rampant. It's dangerous, and every day I huddle inside the house with the lights off and the door locked. I'm too scared to journey out.
Yeah, I had been too cowardly to run from my mother's side when he had first docked here, too. That's all I am. Terrified. Weak. A coward. It seems it's all I'll ever be. Once again I'm hiding, shutting out the world around me in favor of safety. Trust me when I say it's not living.
My mother, on the other hand, does nothing but live. She's always gone, always partying with her scum friends. When she stumbles home she reeks of alcohol and is dizzy from the many drugs she takes at the parties. Maybe if she didn't spend all her money on destructive items we could get an apartment in a respectable area of the city where I would feel safe. But she never will. She barely even eats anymore, not needing food to sustain her when she has her drugs, and she obviously doesn't notice my need for solid substance. We're both growing thin and gaunt, and I find that my energy is lacking. I'm afraid I'm going to die here if we stay any longer. My mother wouldn't notice the corpse until it started stinking, and even then the landlord would probably sniff it out first since her nose is stuffed with powder.
Today is the Eve of the New Year, and my mother is out partying even more. She actually left a note this time saying she'd be back in a day or two, and she'd actually stocked up a few cans of expired food for me. I should be happy that she acknowledged my existence, but instead I get a bad feeling. Something is off, but I'm not going to go and track her down. It's too dangerous to leave the house.
Instead I'll celebrate on my own with a breathing mask on and two-month expired vegetables with the doors locked and lights turned off. For me, this is home, even as terrible as it sounds.
Inner Rim, Unknown Sector, Gorse System, 39 BBY
My eyes flicker open to a tight but warm area. Pain surrounds me, and everything is off. The slightest noises and lights blare into my ears and eyes, and the loud sounds and heavy lights seem to come at me from a distance. Breathing is a chore, and my eyelids keep trying to close themselves. My mind is foggy and unclear, and I try to sit up. It doesn't end up happening, and instead I collapse back on the...am I on a bunk?
"Don't move," an accented voice says. It sounds warped and off, and the face that appears above me twists and blurs. Bright blue eyes swim around, the brightest splash of color I can see.
Turning my head to the side, I see there's another bunk a few feet away. A man with long silver hair lays on it...I recognize him, but from where? Everything keeps moving and swaying. My consciousness fades and darkness returns.
Core Worlds Region, Coruscant Subsector, Corusca Sector, Unknown System, 49 BBY
A "Happy" New Year passes and I'm still hidden in this apartment. My mother hasn't returned, even though her note said one or two days. It's been a week.
I don't think she's coming back. It's hard to accept, but it's the truth. At first I had thought she had just passed out from the alcohol somewhere and is coming back later, but after a close inspection of the apartment I can see that all her personal items are gone. There's one photo of our family, taken a year before. She left me one photo. Everything else is gone, not that there had ever been much to begin with.
The place feels so empty, just like my heart. Tragedy after tragedy has ripped through, scraping all my feelings out one spoonful at a time. There's nothing left now, it seems, except anger and hate and fear. Suffering.
I hate my parents. I hate them for all they've put me through. My father for being unloyal, and my mother for being a coward. Even my siblings have their share of hate directed towards them. They disappointed me, my brother by breaking his promise, and my sister by abandoning me in my moment of need. They all let me down, and I hate them.
With the hate comes anger. Red, hot, and full of rage, I let it all simmer as I curl up against the back of the couch, hidden from all sight. I'm angry at my family for teaching me those terrible traits, and I'm angry at myself for caring. No, I'm angry at myself for being myself. I hate myself. All I am is a cowering, terrified, weak, little girl who can't do anything for herself.
These emotions just sink in, breaking into my heart and filling it with red and black. I have no way to get rid of them, no way to use them, so they taint me. My once innocent face becomes twisted with them, a reflexion of my soul. Once I looked in the window outside, and when I saw myself in it I didn't recognize who was looking at me. The skin under my eyes have dark bags under them, my forehead etched with thick lines, my mouth is a permanent scowl, and my eyes...my once beautiful, storm-grey eyes have turned to be rimmed-with red and so dark they're only a shade from being black. My skin has grown pale from lack of sunlight, and my clothes are ragged and dark and threadbare. My body is thin and gaunt from lack of food and nutrition.
I look as though I have come from the dead.
I'm not even nine years old yet.
Inner Rim, Unknown Sector, Gorse System, 39 BBY
Again I wake up, but this time the pain has faded enough for me to be able to sit up. A groan rises in my throat, but I push it down and ride out the spots of black and the wave of dizziness. The sound of a door sliding open seems too loud, and I raise my hands to cover my ears, only to suck in a sharp breath at the pain. Looking down in my lap, I see two pale arms with purple and misshapen wrists. These can't be my hands! My kinetic sense says otherwise, and when I try to lift them they send waves of pain through me.
"I couldn't reset them while you were unconscious," a young voice says. I look up to see Obi-Wan approaching, the wide sleeves of his Jedi-issue robe covering up something in his hands. "You would thrash uncontrollably if I or Qui-Gon tried to touch you. It was dangerous for all of us."
There's a red scratch under his eye, and I bet that's what he is referring to. He steps closer, showing a brown bottle. "This is the best we can do for the pain." Alcohol. Just what I need. He unscrews the cap, but instead of letting him treat me like a baby and spoon-feed it to me I use the Force to take it and float it towards me. I chug the whole thing, letting the liquid burn down my throat. The Jedi Padawan opens his mouth as if to protest, but then he closes it. A wise move on his part. I'm even more dangerous awake than asleep.
When I finish I float the bottle to a small stand on the edge of the bunk. "Where are we?" I ask, trying to get information before the alcohol takes effect.
"My master's ship. We didn't know where you parked yours, and you were in no shape to leave behind. Qui-Gon recently recovered."
My mind is beginning to grow cloudy, but not from the pain. I'm running out of time. "Where is he?"
"KZ-4 led him to your ship an hour ago. He's taking the crystals back to Coruscant." Obi-Wan turns and digs in a cupboard above the other bunk.
"Why didn't he take this ship?"
"We couldn't move you in any case. Even in your sleep you seem connected to the Force. It was unsafe." He sounds as if he is hiding something.
"What did I do?" Silence. "Tell me, what did I do?"
"You caused an earthquake," Obi-Wan answers softly. "It ran across the entire planet. We were protected inside this ship, but everywhere else was hit."
I'm so glad I'd drunk that alcohol. Taken this news sober...it seems like too much. My mind is fuzzy, and everything is blurry. My common sense is leaving. "Fix my hands now," I demand. "Before I pass out. I don't want them to heal wrong."
"I'm not entirely sure that's a good idea." There's something underneath his calm...is he scared? Of me? Part of me is pleased. Good. He all his other Jedi friends should be terrified of me. But another part of me is disappointed. Why must I hurt everyone who tries to be kind or considerate to me? I push all those thoughts aside, knowing now isn't the time for them.
"Do it!" I exclaim, my frustration at myself bubbling over.
He picks up the materials he'd gathered earlier and places them on the bunk next to me. He hesitates noticeably before gently taking my arm. I close my eyes against the onslaught of pain but I don't react. Showing pain is for the weak. I am not weak.
The pain continues, but the alcohol helps tone it down. My face is set and passive as he moves the bones back in place and splinters them. Pain is something I'd been trained to withstand.
Minutes go by, and he finishes one hand, tieing everything together with a leather band. When he moves onto the other hand all common sense leaves me as the alcohol digs itself into me. I'm usually careful not to get drunk because I lose my control, but I had broken my rule and now I'm paying for it.
"Do you know Quinlan Vos?" I ask, my words slurred. Obi-Wan glances up, raising an eyebrow, but continues to work.
"I've met him once."
"We ran into each other on Bespin right before I ended up on Hoth. He's kinda a pansy. I beat him without even having to use my lightsaber. But he also scares me."
"Why's that?" Obi-Wan yanks on something around my wrist hard, and my forehead wrinkles.
"His future is dark. He would've killed me if I had let him. You know, I only see the futures of people who have suffering and pain ahead of them. It drives me crazy, seeing all that grief and darkness. It's not like I need to experience more of it." My mouth keeps blabbing, running a million miles an hour. Somewhere deep down I know I wouldn't be saying this if I was sober. The Jedi realizes this, too, for I can tell he's listening attentively.
"Is that why you wouldn't tell me what you saw of my future?" he questions, trying to seem casual.
"Yeah." I abruptly stop and look away. He notices the change.
"Can you tell me now?"
"No. Knowing the future is a heavy burden to bear. I heard that from a witch." A giggle escapes my mouth. "She's right, though. I wish instead of seeing the future I had the power to un-see the past."
Obi-Wan looks up, curiosity in his eyes. "What's wrong with the past?"
"Not the past. My past. You know, Quinlan asked me why I was a Sith. And this little boy named Isaiah asked me why I wasn't a Jedi. They don't get it, though. No one gets it. Everything everyone is today is because of their past. Our memories and experiences shape our future. And just because I act like I know everything and like I'm the best doesn't mean I really think that."
The Jedi finishes up my hand and takes care of the materials before sitting on the edge of the opposite bunk. "Then what do you really think?"
My mouth turns into a frown. "No one's ever asked me that before. They just make assumptions and think that they're right about everything. People really are horrible, aren't they? They act like they care and they tell you that you can trust them, but inside they're ugly and they lie. They stab you in the back and then dramatically wipe away tears at your funeral."
"It sounds like you're hanging around the wrong people," Obi-Wan suggests. A laugh escapes my throat.
"Make that past tense. I don't hang around anyone except my droid, and even he constantly betrays me. But like I had a choice who I hung around! They were terrible people. I hate them all. They made me so angry." Even my drunk self feels some of those old emotions rising up. "It's okay, though. They're all dead now."
"You killed them all?" the Jedi's voice is incredulous.
"Of course not. I wish I had, though, but they killed themselves." An insane smile curls up on my face. "First my brother, by jumping off a bridge. Then my sister, whose body I unhooked from the ceiling. My mother killed herself with drugs, and my father with his own weakness. I watched them all go, one at a time. Then I was left all by myself." The smile drops from my face as the memories come back. "I was too weak. I was a coward."
The blue eyes boring into mine darken, and Obi-Wan stands up. "You should get some sleep. I'll wake you up when my master returns."
Two words exit my mouth that I know would never come out if I wasn't drunk. "Thank you."
The Jedi stops at the door and turns around. "For what?"
"You're the only one who has never left me behind." My voice trails off. "The only one who didn't abandon me…" Laying back on the bunk, my eyes finally close and sleep washes over me, taking away the pain of both my injuries and my memories.