Chapter 10: A Gauntlet of Emotion

She turned to face the Jedi Masters reluctantly and found the owner of the kind voice smiling encouragingly at her. The Jedi Master's appearance surprised her; she could almost mistake him for a human if his skull was not so elongated that it resembled a stalagmite. Still she wished that she was walking out of the chamber along with Qui-Gon. Since she couldn't do that she was silently plotting out potential escape routes and how she would react if they were to suddenly attack her. For all she knew Qui-Gon could have left her here to serve as a human sacrifice. It did not seem so farfetched when compared to what she had learned about the duplicity of strangers living on Tatooine.

"Your name, what is?" Someone else asked; he was a funny looking little green person with tuffs of white hair, floppy ears and bulbous eyes. It took a few moments for her to process his question; his syntax was different from what she was used to hearing.

"Lyyr." She finally answered her voice cracking slightly and sounding pathetically weak. Lyyr stood taller and squared her shoulders wanting to appear more confident than she sounded.

"Your full name," the one Qui-Gon called Master Windu demanded. The harshness of his demeanor steadied her and riled her at the same time. She knew how to react to someone trying to bully her. Her head snapped in his direction and she looked him fully in the eyes, her own narrowing in an unspoken challenge.

"What are your names?" She demanded in return, not bothering to sound respectful. She wanted to make it clear that just because she was a slave from some backwater planet on the outer rim she was not easily cowed. The man smiled at her brashness but it vanished so swiftly that she doubted that she really saw it.

"I am Master Windu, this is Master Yoda," he said motioning first to himself than to the green one and concluded with a motion to the first who spoke, "and there is Master Mundi."

"What no first names?" Lyyr asked snippily; intentionally pushing her luck.

"No last name?" Windu countered his voice infuriatingly unruffled.

"Dysar, my names is Lyyr Dysar," she answered. Having her name seemed to both please and disturb the Jedi before her and they fell into silence. Tilting her head to one side she watched them for a moment allowing the silence to draw out before asking her first question.

"Why, for what possible reason, could a group of Jedi want to 'test' me?"

"Jedi are we, says who? Hmm..?" She watched Master Yoda for a moment before replying.

"I may not be formally educated but I am capable of simple reasoning," she spit out her voice heavy with sarcasm. "Qui-Gon is a Jedi, it makes sense that he would bring me to a group of Jedi. Besides," she continued her tone softening in her uncertainty about voicing her next opinion, "Jedi feel different."

"Rely on this feeling, do you," he queried and she shrugged uncomfortable with the knowing look he was giving her.

"It's kept me alive."

"I did not think that the Hutts gave their slaves a say in how long they lived." Windu remarked. Lyyr was not sure if he was deliberately trying to egg her on but Lyyr was not above taking the bait and running with it.

"That only proves your ignorance Master Jedi" she remarked, sneering at him.

"Surely the Hutts did not tolerate your impertinence girl," he retorted sounding only slightly irritated. She flashed him a wicked and bitter grin, one that made her look like a vicious krayt dragon.

"The Hutts tolerate anything in a slave as long as it makes them money," she explained her voice thick with bitterness she did not bother to hide. "I was Gardulla's prized cash cow, despite my bad attitude. Nothing would persuade her to give me up."

"If that's the case, then how is it that Qui-Gon managed to free you?" Windu pressed sounding skeptic. Lyyr's lip curled contemptuously.

"I freed myself," was her response, "by exploiting Gardulla's greatest weakness; greed."

"What could you possible offer that the Hutt did not already possess?" He asked his skepticism now shaded with condescension to match hers.

"Take a wild guess Jedi." She growled out. Lyyr was not about to divulge the details of her bet; she should be spared that humiliation at least.

"Bitter you are." Yoda told her pointing one small accusatory green finger in her direction. She shifted her gaze so that she was now glaring at the diminutive Jedi.

"I have every reason to be bitter."

"For bitterness there is reason not," Yoda informed her. His voice was disapproving and Lyyr felt the sting of it keenly.

"You don't consider having my life stolen from me a reason for bitterness? How about the fact that I was forced to kill in order to earn the right to live? Or that those I cared for were daily threatened and would be killed if I did not do as I was told, that is not a good enough reason? What about the fact that I was coerced into enduring daily beatings and rape for another's amusement? Would you consider that a good reason for my bitterness," she raved at him. Her voice remained coldly detached despite the passion of her words. Lyyr could have said more but restrained herself. A tirade was not worth her energy and would only cheapen her argument.

Lyyr closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths; notably suppressing the strong feelings and old hurts that the conversation had brought forth. She should not have allowed herself to be carried away by the bitterness she had been harboring for so long. It made her seem petty, vulnerable and exposed – things she could not allow these Jedi to see in or think of her as being. The chamber remained deathly silent as she wrestled with herself.

"What was done to you child?" Master Mundi asked gently breaking the oppressive silence.

"That's a long story and a tall order," she quipped with a shy apologetic half smile. She sensed some of the Jedi's astonishment at her quickly regained composure. She was better at faking being composed than they could ever realize; she had had years of practice and a tough audience.

"There is time to hear it," Mundi replied. She suppressed the urge to laugh from the tension.

"I do not doubt that. Very well if you insist on hearing my story than I am going to be comfortable," she announced and without further preamble sunk gracefully to the chamber's stone floor; sitting crossed legged with her hands resting on her knees. She looked up at them waiting for permission to continue. There was an apprehensive gleam in her violet eyes and it was clear to the council members that she dreaded telling this tale. They did not need to see her frantic searching gaze trying to discover a way out to know that she would rather be elsewhere. Mace shared a quick glance with Yoda; they had to admire her courage.

"Where should I start?" Lyyr asked after the silence had stretched on for far too long.

"Of your parents, tell us." Master Yoda prompted, although he could have easily guessed at their identity. Even without the echoes of familiarity he sensed in the Force her eyes would tell him. she closed those violet eyes for a moment to collect herself when she opened them again they were hardened with resolve.

"Of my father I have only vague impressions, nothing worth recalling," she answered attempting and managing to keep her voice steady and void of any betraying emotion. "I remember very little of my mother, they are both ghosts to me."

"What is your clearest memory?" Master Windu inquired. Lyyr bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from sighing, cursing or doing both. That question was more difficult for her to answer than the Jedi could possibly imagine.

"The death of my mother," she answered. Gritting her teeth and hoping that answer was satisfactory enough to end the interview. It proved to be a false hope.

"How did she die?" Windu asked and Lyyr thought she sensed a keen interest in his voice.

"What does that matter to you? She is dead and that cannot be undone." Lyyr retorted her voice sharp with suppressed pain.

"Please, tell us child," Master Mundi encouraged her. Lyyr regarded him warily for a moment, resenting his kindness with and audible sigh and squaring her shoulders she shoved aside her resentment before plowing forward.

"She was murdered," Lyyr remarked succinctly. "I was five, I don't remember much." Her entire posture was defensive; she did not want to continue this conversation, but knew that they would push the issue.

"Do you remember anything of her attacker?" Mundi asked. His gentle persistence grated on Lyyr's nerves and made it difficult for her not to feel offended.

"I was a child, whatever I remembered has become nightmares. I lived a life of nightmares; I no longer care to remember one particular horror amidst others." Her voice remained sharp and tightly controlled.

"Anything else of your mother do you remember?" Master Yoda asked trying to shift the mood of the conversation.

"She used to sing to me, I remember that."

"After her death, what of," Yoda asked changing the subject entirely. Although that did not make anything better as far as Lyyr was concerned.

"I was found by a moisture farmer who sold me to Gardulla the Hutt in order to repay his own debt."

"You sound bitter about that." One of the unnamed Jedi pointed out.

"Yes I do and I am." Lyyr replied raising her chin in defiance. "I was a child forced into slavery; I witnessed things no child should ever see. I do not blame the man for doing as he did, but I will not forget it either."

"What hold did Gardulla have over you?" Someone else asked.

"The same one that strangled any slave; obey or die."

"How then does your insolence fit in?" Windu queried.

"It amused Gardulla to a point; she found it endlessly funny my refusal to accept my place." Lyyr answered. "I suppose it was a game to her; knowing that she could swat me down whenever she chose, and watching me try to live free." She paused then to swallow in an attempt to moisten her suddenly dry throat.

"I learned not to push too far when a boy I was close to was killed in response to my attempt to escape. The Skywalker's lives were used as collateral against my obedience."

"How did you meet the Skywalker's?"

"When Shmi was first sold to Gardulla, she was still pregnant I befriended her thinking that it would keep the other slaves from hassling her. I was still just a child and Shmi became a mother to me. I was nine when she and Anakin were lost in a bet to the junk dealer Watto."

"Then their lives could no longer be used as collateral against your obedience," a female Jedi pointed out.

"Obviously you never lived under the tyranny of a Hutt," Lyyr retorted looking over her shoulder at the Jedi Master. Her voice was heavy with scornful amusement; she couldn't help but poke fun at these all too serious Jedi. "Just because the Skywalker's had a new owner did not automatically make them safe. But that did not stop me from acting out, Gardulla found it even more amusing that after five years of a miserable existence I still refused to be broken."

"Something tells me the Hutt's amusement did not last very long," Windu remarked.

"That would be an understatement."

"Deal with you how, did she? Hmmm..?"

"She sent me to fight in the arenas so that I could be put to good use either earn money or die; a convenient way to get rid of an inconvenient pest."

"Survive Gardulla did not expect you would."

"A nine year old human female in a fight to the death against a full grown Rodian male, you could say that. It was pure luck that I manage to live through that fight and every one that followed after. It was pure entertainment to the lowlifes of Mos Espa to watch a scrawny female slave defeat older opponents of various species. As well as a steady cash flow for Gardulla, the winnings from all those bets barely satisfied her greedy nature. I was made to fight daily; she said I finally found my calling in life. I've been fighting in the arenas ever since."

"You are how old now?"

"I am fifteen."

"For six years you fought for your life, did you kill every one of your opponents?"

"Kill or be killed," she answered conversationally enough although her voice registered her disgust. "Once I firmly established myself as champion I only had to kill a defeated opponent when Gardulla commanded it. Most of my opponents wouldn't yield until they could no longer stand; at that point their master's found them useless and disposed of them."

"To compensate for other's loss of property and to line her own pockets further Gardulla started renting me out to other slave owners." Lyyr continued growing tired of the conversation and bearing her wounds to the Jedi.

"What did these other owners have you do," Windu asked his voice flat with a weariness of his own. It seemed that he too had grown tired of her litany of woe. She couldn't really blame him.

"My body could tell the tale of my life on Tatooine better and quicker than I," she informed them. "Every slave owner I worked for felt the need to mark me as their property." She pulled up the sleeve of her tunic to show them her right wrist, on the back of it there had been an intricate circular design burned into her skin. Further down her arm they could see an old jagged scar starting mid-way up her forearm and disappearing into the depths of her sleeve.

"Who did that to you?"

"The owner of a specialized cantina catering to certain needs, he branded all of his girls with his own personal logo." Lyyr let the sleeve of her tunic drop to cover the old scar. She stood up suddenly restless and feeling the need to pace or shout but restrained herself.

"Are we through?" She asked not bothering to hide the impatience in her voice. The Jedi observed her quietly for a moment then Master Yoda nodded his consent. Without preamble Lyyr turned swiftly on her heel and stomped out of the chamber.