Mentrel, 13 BBY.
The sun shone bright on a crisp autumn morning as a young girl sat beside the river, poking parsapods with a stick. The parsapod's tentacles wrapped around the stick, sparking the girl's quiet delight as the mindless creature gently slapped the stick against the water. A breeze rustled the leaves above, showering the river with a cascade of red, angular leaves fluttering down to drift upon the gurgling waters.
In the distance, the girl heard the muted chatter of the elders gossiping as they washed their linens in the river. She looked away from the parsapod, peering through the branches at them. She imagined Elder Kleva scolding her for not attending to her lessons, but as she watched, the elders gossiped merrily, unaware that she was nearby. She returned her attention to the parsapod, which had wrapped one of its tentacles all the way around her stick, and was now attempting to eat it. She let go of the stick to see what the parsapod might do. The parsapod relaxed, releasing the stick, which floated downstream. The girl frowned, her red eyebrows scrunching as she wrinkled her nose. Reaching her hand out, she closed her eyes and imagined the stick. Moments later, the stick slowed, dragging against the water. She deepened her concentration, and the stick began to drift upstream toward her outstretched hand. Once the girl felt the rough edge of the stick graze her hand, she opened her eyes, grasping the stick as her face erupted in a triumphant smile.
"You're a witch!" called a young boy from behind her. The sound startled the girl, and she dropped the stick, which fell back into the water and floated away.
"Chimi! You made me drop my stick," the girl cried.
"I saw what you were doing! You're a witch," Chimi accused, undeterred by her indignation.
"I am not," the girl shouted, stomping her foot.
"Are too! I watched you! You screwed up your face and made the stick move against the water. That's witch's magic, that is," Chimi explained knowledgably.
"You were sneaking," the girl pouted.
"And you're supposed to be in lessons," Chimi retorted.
"Why aren't you in lessons?" the girl asked.
"Nevermind," Chimi deflected, then, puffing up his chest, said, "I'm telling Elder Kleva."
"Don't!" the girl cried as she recalled the pain on her knuckles from the last time she had been caught doing tricks.
"I'm going right now!" Chimi laughed, and he turned around, racing away.
"Chimi, don't!" the girl called out, anxious and anguished.
"Red hair, magic tricks! Mara Jade's a sneaky witch!" Chimi sang over his shoulder as he ran. He was much larger than her, but he was also heavier and broader. She broke into a run to catch up, and as he looked over his shoulder, his eyes went wide in realization that she would catch him. He picked up his pace, then stumbled as the brilliant sunshine faltered.
Both children paused their chase and looked up. Above, a massive, triangular shape drifted across the sky, blocking out the sun. From a hole in the bottom of the triangle, dozens of ships roared and screamed, each descending to the ground toward the edge of the village. The pleasant clucking sounds of the elders by the river became agitated screaming, and a bell rang in the village square. Chimi's eyes went wide with terror as fear likewise flooded Mara. Both children ran away from the river, up the dirt path, and back toward the village, each determined to find their parents.
Mara's breath tore at her lungs, and a stitch burned in her side as she raced past the panicked villagers. An old man stumbled after losing his balance when a teenage boy brushed past him, fleeing the roar of the ships. Mara heard a repetitive barking sound in the distance, reminding her of her father's hunting rifle. She cut through an alleyway and burst out at the edge of her family's farm. She raced through the vegetable patch, tearing toward the door. Flinging the door open, she burst inside, shouting, "Mother!"
Silence and emptiness greeted Mara. She raced into her parents' room to find it empty. Neither her mother nor her father were in her room, nor were they the back shed repairing the harvest droids. She looked out the window across the field, but saw no sign of them there either. Panic welled within her, mounting as the blaster fire intensified. A rumbling explosion in the distance shook the ground, knocking one of the dormant harvest droids over into the dirt.
"Mother!" she shouted, as tears streamed down her face.
She returned to the hearth room and looked out the kitchen window, spotting a plume of smoke rising into the sky. She raced back to the door, and nearly knocked over old Mrs. Dlema, who steadied her balance by grabbing the door handle and leaning into her cane.
"Careful, child!" Mrs. Dlema scolded.
"My mother!" Mara called, agitated.
"She went to the school as soon as they came," Mrs. Dlema explained.
Mara broke into a run, and Mrs. Dlema called out, "Mara, you mustn't! Come back this instance!"
But Mara did not look back, nor did she heed Mrs. Dlema's continued shouting. She raced back toward the center of the town, cutting through alleys and shortcuts past frightened people huddling in corners. A Kuhzhund startled at her approach and bolted into the shadows. She turned around a corner running full-pelt and slammed into the back of a large adult man. The man turned toward her, looking down. His face was sweaty, and he seemed agitated, but when he realized that she was just a child, he frowned, holding his finger to his lips as he hissed, "Shhh."
Mara retreated a few steps from the large man, then bolted into the crowd, jostling and dodging through the adults standing still, staring into the square. She whispered, "Mother!" but nobody noticed her, transfixed as they were at something happening in the square. She pushed ahead through the wilderness of slack limbs and transfixed adults until she came to the edge of the crowd.
There, in the center of the square, stood a towering figure dressed in black. Upon his head, he wore a black, skull-like helmet, and in the silence of the people surrounding her, she could hear his mechanical, rhythmic breathing. His arm extended outward, and his hand held a woman with fiery red hair up by her neck. Her hands clawed at his hand, trying to pull the grip apart. Mara recognized her mother, and seeing the terrified, anguished expression on her mother's face, she screamed, "Mama!" as she bolted into the square.
She felt a hand grab her shoulder, but she shook it off and raced toward the man choking her mother. He turned his head, his black mask gazing at her like the face of death, his head inclined in curiosity. When she reached the man, she screamed, pushing outward with both of her hands in an explosion of rage and fear. She felt something dark and powerful sweep through her, and the man with the black mask lost his grip, dropping her mother to the ground. The man stumbled backward, surprised.
No sooner had she unleashed her fury when she felt a painful exhaustion. Rough hands grabbed her shoulders, and a man's arms encased in a hard, white, shining armor, ensnared her. Terrified, she screamed again, and the man released his grip. With the man's grip relinquished, she rushed forward to her mother and threw herself into her mother's arms. Her mother embraced her, but moments later, the grip became tighter as the man in black loomed over them.
"I see you are hiding more than just your husband," the man said, his voice deep and mechanical, filtered through his breathing apparatus.
"Leave us alone, you filth," the woman spat.
Mara felt her mother's arms go rigid, and her mother rose into the air, writhing and struggling at the unseen force holding her. She gasped and spluttered, her eyes wide with fear as her hands clutched at her throat.
"Take the girl," the man said, and Mara felt rough hands on her once again. She was too tired to fight them as she watched the man choked her mother.
"Let them go!" called a man's voice.
Mara turned toward the edge of the square as her father, grim-faced and determined, stepped forward. The man in black turned toward her father, dropping Mara's mother to the ground again. The armored soldiers swarmed around her, pulling her away to clear a space for the man in black. Mara felt other soldiers lift her up and pull her away. She twisted and writhed against their grip.
"Daddy!" she screamed.
Her father stepped forward and removed something from his cloak. It was silver and bright, and a green light erupted from its tip, blazing in the shadows cast by the triangular ship above.
"Take me if you will, but let them go," her father called.
"The Force is strong in your family," the man said, his voice relishing the phrase. "The Emperor will be pleased to meet your daughter," he taunted.
Mara watched her father twirl his green light sword. The man in black removed a silver-black cylinder of his own, which produced his own glowing red light. Her father charged the man, swinging his green light sword at the man's face. The man in black countered the attack, and the two launched into a furious dance, swinging their light swords before the entire town.
A rock flew into the center of the square, hitting the man in black on the shoulder. The soldiers in the white armor turned in the direction from which the rock flew and fired their weapons into the upper story of a nearby building, which caught fire from the blasts.
Mara looked back to her father, and she could tell he was growing tired. The man in black was strong – terrifyingly strong. He swung his blade into his father's, and the force from the attack knocked her father backward, sending him stumbling to the ground. Her father's light sword extinguished, rolling away into the dirt. Mara cried out again, but one of the trooper's place his gloved hand over her mouth. She strained against the grip as the man in black stalked toward her father. Her father's light sword flew toward him, but it stopped, hovering impossibly in mid-air. The man in black clenched his fist, and the light sword exploded. The man then raised his fist, and her father rose into the air like his mother had. The man in black stepped forward and plunged his red laser sword through her father's heart.
"Daddy!" Mara screamed.
"Orsen!" Mara's mother screamed.
As Orsen Jade collapsed, the crowd roared in anger. As the roar intensified, the troopers opened fire, scattering the crowd. As the crowd dispersed, the man in black remained, and after Orsen Jade's breathing went still, the man in black lowered his hand. Mara's father collapsed into the dirt, dead.
The man in black turned toward Mara. A horrible, burning rage blazed inside her. She attempted to use her trick again, but her strength was waning.
Mara's mother screamed, and the man paused. He turned toward the woman and called, "Enough."
A trooper stepped forward and fired his blaster into her chest, and Mara's mother went still.
"Mommy!" Mara screamed, and her writhing intensified. Her anguish gave her new strength, and the soldiers flew back as the hatred inside her erupted. The man staggered backward several steps, but he quickly recovered, reaching out his hand to hold her still. Mara, paralyzed, struggled against the unseen force, her teeth grinding in rage as she tried to scream.
"Impressive," the man said quietly. He then swiped his hand to the right, and Mara's vision went black as she collapsed into the dirt, unconscious.
Coruscant, 8 ABY
The girl stepped forward from the dozen children sitting cross-legged in the shadowy dojo. Across from her, Five, a 14- year-old boy, stood waiting. She had watched Five, a powerful, cruel, sneering Twi-lek, dismember a 10 year-old child in the Challenge only the week before, and having advanced through her tasks, it was now her turn to face the Challenge. Five held his lightsaber in his hand loosely, leering as he relished another opportunity to toy with a victim. He had taken his time with the last girl, removing limbs at his leisure until the sparring droid had lost patience and put the girl out of her misery. Mara gripped her lightsaber, feeling an old flickering of fear. The hateful image of Darth Vader flashed before her eyes, piquing her rage. Her masters had encouraged that rage, calling on Vader every time Mara showed weakness, indecision, or lack of commitment. Every time she recalled Vader, her rage swelled, and she propelled herself through her trials at breakneck pace, dreaming every night that she would one day face the man, remove his mask, and spit in his face before she watched the light leave his eyes.
"Nine," the sparring droid called out. She turned to the droid, momentarily confused. The name felt familiar, yet foreign, as if not a part of her. She was someone else, was she not? A different person? A child? She shook her head imperceptibly, as if warding off a mosquito. Remembering that this was her name, her calling, her identity, she nodded, clipping her saber to her belt. She pulled her hair into a tight bun, then unclipped her saber.
Five stood waiting in the center of the ring, and as she approached, he ignited his lightsaber. In the moment before the droid commenced the combat, she heard him whisper over the hum of his crimson blade, "I know exactly when the droid is triggered to act now."
Nine gripped her lightsaber as the muscles around her eyes tensed. She activated the weapon, and her own crimson blade erupted. She raised the blade to a ready position, and Five winked.
"Assume your positions," the sparring droid intoned, and Nine settled into her combat position.
The droid emitted a shrill screech, signaling the beginning of the Challenge. Five was upon her immediately, moving with frightening speed as slashed at her face with his blade. Nine lifted her weapon and felt the impact of his blow send her backward several steps. She nearly fell to the floor as Five leapt the distance that he had just created with his blow. She rolled to the side, and Five's blade cut into the ground. He wheeled around, swinging his blade and slashing at her torso. She jumped backwards, arching her back to pull her stomach in, and the blade cut through her tunic, missing her skin by inches.
The droid whistled, signaling that Five had just earned a point.
Five lunged again, bringing his blade down hard. She lifted her arms to block the blade, feeling his superior strength bearing down on her. His blade pressed her blade back toward her face as a gleeful expression burned in his eyes. The blade moved closer to her nose - so close that the vivid scent of synthetic kyber ozone flooded her nostrils.
With the blade centimeters away, she felt the heat singe the tip of her nose. The image of Vader flashed through her mind as the blade pressed toward her eyes. A spike of rage erupted, and she pushed back, sending Five reeling. She leapt after him, swiping her blade down and knocking Five to the floor. She was upon him immediately, and as he swung his blade to block her attacks from his prone position, he mistimed a parry, and her blade plunged through his left bicep. The droid whistled, indicating she had scored a point.
Five screamed in pain, and in his agony, Nine flew backward, hitting the ground hard. Five rose to his feet and twirled his saber, growling "You'll pay for that, you vicious little bitch."
Nine raised herself up and spat on the floor, twirling her lightsaber in challenge.
Five charged forward, his malicious cruelty enflamed as he sought to avenge his injury. His blows came fast, but Nine, with her smaller size and dexterity, matched his speed evenly, keeping up with his attacks as she forced Five to expend more and more energy.
He broke away to recalculate his attack. Nine scanned his face, recognizing that he was becoming frustrated. Recognizing his frustration as the first inkling of weakness, she spat again, signaling her contempt. Five, enraged at her disrespect, lunged again, but Nine dodged his attack, sending him tumbling clumsily past her. The droid whistled, indicating she had scored another point.
Five growled, his sneering face burning with rage. "I should kill you the way they killed your mother."
The taunt caught Nine off-guard. Sensing her confusion, Five launched himself at her. In her confusion, Nine struggled to keep up, and Five's weapon glanced off her shoulder, shooting a burning pain through her muscles as she cried out.
"I bet she died like a whore," Five taunted toward their peers, laughing at Nine's agony.
Nine closed her eyes, inviting the pain. The image of her mother collapsing into the dirt, a smoking hole burning in her chest, flitted through her mind. Her jaw set, she reached out, and Five went rigid. As he struggled, his lightsaber fell out of his hand, tumbling to the floor. Before it could hit the floor, it soared toward Nine. The hilt hovered between the two of them, and Nine clenched her free fist. The blade exploded in a shower of sparks and fragments. She turned her other hand, and Five rose into the air, rotating toward her and writhing against her grip.
She stepped forward, pointing her lightsaber toward his stomach. She watched with savage pleasure as his eyes went wide in helpless terror. She moved the tip of the blade slowly into his abdomen, and Five screamed. The reverberations from the scream filled the hall, and in Nine's mind, she saw Vader killing her father. The memory fueled her rage, and she moved the blade in circles through Five's abdomen, intensifying his screaming.
The droid wailed frantically, charging toward her. She thrust her hand outward, and the droid flew off its wheels, cartwheeling into the wall of the dojo and exploding in a shower of sparks. She withdrew her blade and allowed Five to collapse to the ground. As the droid's klaxon wailed feebly, Nine swung her blade through Five's neck, and his head tumbled off of his shoulders as his body collapsed to the ground.
A stunned silence followed, interrupted moments later by a deep, cackling laughter that built like rolling thunder, crackling with hatred. The laughter peaked, and all turned toward the shadows from which the laughter had emerged. Nine lowered her weapon and watched as the Emperor, cloaked in black, his hood obscuring his distorted, mangled face, stepped from the darkness.
He walked forward slowly toward Nine, saying, "Good. Good!"
The man paused inches before Nine, and he turned to the assembled students, grunting, "Leave us."
The students raced from the chamber eagerly, leaving Five's corpse on the ground.
The man gazed at her from below his hood, then said, "Do you know who I am, girl?"
Nine nodded, her still-ignited lightsaber hanging loosely by her side. The man looked toward the weapon, and it shut off without her initiating the switch.
"Lord Vader was most impressed with you," the Emperor said appreciatively. "And our friend Five caused you little trouble."
Nine's eyes narrowed at the mention of Vader, and the Emperor grinned. "I can feel your hatred. There are many who hate Lord Vader, but few so vividly as yourself." The Emperor paused, then said appraisingly, "You will make a powerful ally."
"Am I to become a Sith?" Nine asked, her voice hoarse from infrequent use.
The Emperor laughed, another rolling cackle that filled the room like thunder.
"A Sith? Foolish girl," the Emperor spat contemptuously. "I have something more befitting and appropriate to your. . . sex."
The Emperor stepped forward, closing the distance. A wrinkled, corrupted hand emerged from the sleeve of his robe, and he caressed her cheek with his finger. Nine felt a curious mixture of revulsion and pleasure, and she felt both the urge to flee and the urge to please.
"You control your impulses -your disgust, your fear," the Emperor praised. "I have need for one such as you. Vader is the hammer, a blunt tool to quell and dominate. But not all problems can be solved with a hammer. Some require a silent knife."
Nine nodded her understanding.
"You, girl," the Emperor whispered. "Mind your training. Nourish your hatred. Thrive, and you shall become the Emperor's Hand."