A.N./I like this chapter. It came together so nicely. Sure, it's not perfect, but nothing is anyway.
So yeah, another chapter. You can thank COVID-19 for that. Man did it suck! Like, it wasn't as bad as I was expecting, but it was fucking annnoying. Anyway, I'm fine now.
Chapter 4: Rolling with the punches.
His brain ground to a halt as he stared down the barrel of a blaster in horror.
With the anisetics forcibly calming him, ironically stopping him from crushing the whole room with his mind in a blind rage, he'd have to be literally mentally disabled to not see just how utterly screwed he was. His body is, quite clearly, battered and broken; he's missing an arm, just breathing made his chest and spine ache despite the painkillers, and his left leg might be broken. He's not too sure about that last one, but it's better to assume the worst than take action on the foolish assumption his leg is fine. Still, he could just crush his captors' windpipes, and make his way… back to… Vader…
He remembered the orders he was given. "No witnesses."
No.
"I-I..." Nonono. It can't be...
The silver haired man raised a brow in agitation. "Speak up boy."
He suppressed a dull pang of anger at the demanding tone of his captor, and settled on glaring. Speak up? He didn't know what to say or do. His master, the man who for all intents and purposes was his father; not that it really meant anything, had ordered his death. He had nowhere to go, nor did he have any way to cope with being so suddenly cut loose from everything he's ever known. He can't go back to Vader, he'd be killed on the spot. Iggie and the Sleight of Hand were probably floating somewhere inside that asteroid belt as space dust. Even if he could get back to Iggie and the Hand what would he do? What could he do? He was an assassin versed in the dark side of the Force. He can't just become a farmer! Pffft, someone of his talents, farming. Ha! The mere idea of it is ludicrous.
A slight cling of metal brought his attention back to the older man, who is looking more and more agitated. Wait. Most Mandalorians were bounty hunters these days right? Or were they mercenaries? Aren't those the same? Idly, he realized that his knowledge of the greater galaxy was rather lacking. Anyway he thinks bounty hunting is a fairly similar occupation to assassination. Well, at least it sounds like it is…
Screw it. What could go wrong? So, with what little confidence he could muster in this frankly awful situation, he sealed his fate. "I'm an assassin trained by Darth Vader."
He resisted the urge to grin when the blaster arm went slack and the one holding it gaped at him with almost comically wide eyes. "Well, that was certainly… not what I expected."
He raised a curious brow. "And what were you expecting?"
The Mando let out a dry chuckle and "subtly" trained the blaster pistol back on his head. "Rogue Jedi survivor gone on a mad killing spree."
His curious expression twisted into a disgusted sneer. "Me, a Jedi scum?" He scoffed, sending lances of pain through his chest. "Not in a million years."
It was the older man's turn to raise an eyebrow. "Not too fond of others of your kind?"
"I'd sooner carve out my still beating heart with a hydrospanner then show fondness for a Jedi."
The silver haired man barked out a laugh. "That's certainly reassuring, but that doesn't answer my initial question."
"Isn't it obvious?" Judging from the stare he received in response, his rhetorical question was decidedly not appreciated. So with another scoff that sent agony shuddering through his chest he continued. "Me and another agent stormed the place, and killed everyone aboard."
"Only two of you?"
"Only two?" He mocked. Though he cringed when he saw the older man scowl. "You say that like it's too little. It's overkill." He explained.
Was he exaggerating? Well, yes and no. He could've done it on his own, buuuuut it would've put his life in significantly more danger. Admittedly, only a short while ago he one hundred percent believed he could take the whole station by himself with absolute surety of success. His little brush with death had killed any further thoughts of that nature.
The older man rolled his eyes. "So what took your arm?"
"Betrayal." A curious eyebrow rose, prompting him to continue. "My one time partner-" He hissed the word out through clenched teeth. "-turned on me after we took out our target, and in his attempt to kill me; he cut off my blasted arm!"
"So hunt him down and kill him." Ha! Now the old man was speaking his language, but he said it as if it was the simplest thing in the galaxy. Unfortunately…
"I would, if he wasn't acting on Vader's orders."
"I see..." Did he want revenge? Yes. One hundred percent yes. Every fiber of his being screamed at him in rage to hunt down Starkiller and kill him, but going after him now would be a death sentence. Starkiller had the backing of Vader. Vader had the backing of the ENTIRE KRIFFING EMPIRE! Any attempt at revenge could, and probably would, end in not only two powerful Force users bearing down on him like an orbital bombardment, but thousands of Stormtroopers and dozens of warships as well. He is a single, roughly, fifteen year old. A very deadly one, but still just a fifteen year old.
"Well, it looks like you are in some trouble." He held the man's gaze and kept his silence. "The real question is, what do I do with you?"
"Let me join you!" He pounced on the opportunity faster than a hungry aklay would attack a crippled nerf. The geezer, to his credit, only blinked once in surprise, obviously not expecting such an outburst. "Why?"
"I'm an assassin. It's all I know, but you Mandos are famous killers, renowned for your martial skill. Which is close enough to make me useful."
The silver haired man grinned. "We'll have to get you a new arm." He tutted. "That kind of hardware is expensive." How mercenary of the bastard, but that's honestly to be expected. Didn't stop him from gritting his teeth in annoyance though.
"I don't exactly have anything to pay you with."
When the older man smiled, he knew it wasn't good. "The reward of your first substantial hunt should be enough to cover your expenses."
That's greedy, reasonably so, but still greedy. In all truth, he doesn't really lose anything from this deal. Well, other than some reward down the line. Which is far less valuable to him than a means to learn how to survive in the galaxy without Vader. "Deal."
The man smiled, deftly holstered his blaster pistol, and stuck out his left hand. "Cassus Ordo."
He stared at the hand, not at all sure of how to reply, having never had an actual name. Only the designation Vader had given him. Blackwing, the closest thing he possessed to a name, and based upon what he knew of names; Blackwing isn't a good one. So that left him with a few brief moments to come up with one.
He reached out and firmly gripped Cassus's hand. "Call me Slate." Turns out, he's awful at coming up with names. So he just sort of ripped off his ship's name, and judging from the look Cassus was giving him; it was fairly obvious he came up with it on the spot.
"Welcome to the team Slate."
"The defector is dead, my master." He expected nothing less.
"Good, what is the status of Blackwing?"
"Also dead." Vader hid his surprise. He had expected them to fight to a draw and retreat. It was… disappointing to learn of Blackwing's passing. He had been a powerful student, but apparently not powerful enough. The news of his death soured his mood completely. Fifteen years of investment gone without bearing fruit. No combination of words can express his anger at the wasted time and resources.
"I see… return to the Executor."
"Yes master." The hologram portraying his remaining apprentice fizzled out. With a flourish of his cape the dark lord stormed away, moving deeper into the unfinished super ship. The empty halls of the secret deck echoed faintly as he navigated towards his meditation chamber.
Upon entering the room Vader deftly snatched a datapad from the other side of the room with the Force, and activated the chamber in the center of the room. He sighed in relief when he breathed in the special air of the chamber under the power of his own lungs. Being able to breathe without the aid of his suit is perhaps the only pleasure he has left.
With one last deep breath, he began to read the latest encrypted message.
Lord Vader.
It is my pleasure to inform you of a breakthrough in my research. His mood improved significantly after reading those words, and he began reading the rest with anticipation.
As you know, research on project AEGIS stalled to a crawl eight galactic standard years ago. The dubious and rather vague nature of the data provided for the project allowed for great leaps in new findings initially, but unfortunately forced us to start from scratch on the majority of research.
Thankfully, you provided us with a multitude of projects, and resources to complete said projects, should AEGIS ever hit a block. Many of which I am proud to say are nearing completion.
Needless to say, your patience with the project has been rewarded. We are in the beginning stages of producing a "proof of concept", and upon completion it will immediately enter testing. Should it prove to be a success as all simulations predict, then it will be a major step towards the success of project AEGIS, and ensuring a safe and secure Empire for ten thousand years.
Head scientist Som'acawu'laimei.
He smiled. It wasn't malicious, it was instead a genuine smile. Something he hasn't had on his face in a long time. The report pleased him beyond imagining. While learning of Blackwing's passing had been upsetting, to say the least, this news was borderline amazing. He had invested a not insubstantial amount of resources into keeping that particular project of his secret from the Emperor. A few decommissioned ships slated for salvage here, some personnel and their families there; outdated but effective equipment no one will notice missing. Over the course of fifteen years he had trickled resources and people into the biggest secret he had. He was forced to path entirely new hyperspace routes just to even transport most of what he sent; absolutely no risks were taken to keep it all secret from the Emperor. All in all, it amounted to more than even what he invested into his apprentices.
He breathed in deeply and let out as close to a content sigh as he could manage. Finally, things were coming together. Soon the Emperor will be dead, and the Empire shall bring everlasting order and justice to the galaxy.
The Dark Lord nodded slightly to himself. Soon the Emperor will pay for everything he has done to Vader.
Soon indeed...
So continued another day of the hell that is Luna's life. A month! A month of rape and torturous experiments. The most recent of said experiments had the dome-headed fucker cut and pry open her chest so the sick bastard could poke around in there, with her awake the whole damned time. The demon must've grown bored of her screams at some point, because it has started to gag her, forcing her to express pain through muffled shouts and sobbing.
Pulling out her top's collar and looking down, she could see most of the organized mess of surgical scars covering her torso. The ones on her back were impossible to look at for obvious reasons. She was ugly, plain and simple. How could she not be? Her body was a scar riddled, disgusting, and dirty thing. She curled in on herself, trying to stave off a cold that seemed to permeate her very soul. She doubted even her father would look at her with anything other than disgust had he still been alive. He wouldn't love her. How could anyone love her? She was dirty, disgusting, sullied, and vile.
The door to her cell suddenly shot open and she recoiled in fear. In walked a guard with a cup of water and a wrapped nutrient bar, his intimidating grey armor loomed over her fairly small frame. She relaxed slightly when she saw the unique dark blue pauldron on his left arm. This was Fazz, he was nice. He brought her food, water, told occasionally funny jokes, and he is; as far as she knows, the only guard yet to rape her. Which is a massive point in his favor. She'll still kill him if he tries to stop her from breaking out though.
"Your rations." He gently set the cup and bar down in the middle of the room, and took two large steps back. She hesitantly moved to grab the precious nurishment. Sure he hasn't done anything bad to her yet, but she wasn't about to trust him anytime soon. So she resorted to glaring at him while she ate.
...
...
...
...
"Why is it blue?"
"Hmm?" He seemed… confused? Luna didn't really know. It's hard to understand people when all she had was a soft sound and a slight tilt of the head. "Your left shoulder. It's blue."
"Oh this?" He gestured towards the aforementioned pauldron, and she nodded softly to confirm. "Well. My pauldron is blue because; unlike the guards, I'm part of the 501st Legion."
Her brows furrowed, and she tilted her head at the unfamiliar words. 501st Legion? What's that? She had never heard of anything like it, and she let him know that; him not being a guard was information filed away for another time.
He's head slid back somewhat in... surprise? Stupid helmet, blocking faces and looking scary. He chuckled, amusement clear in his voice. Although the sound held far more sinister meanings to her. "The 501st, to put it simply, is the finest fighting force to ever exist."
So, they fought things? She wondered what they fought? Things like the Grimm? Or did they fight people? When she asked he chuckled again. The sound elicited far less instinctual fear than the first time. "We fight the bad guys who want to throw society into chaos."
Her face twisted in confusion. She heard the words he spoke, they registered in her mind, but she wasn't able to comprehend what he had just said. They fight bad guys? But they are the bad guys. So why did he say that? She was going to ask, but was interrupted by the door sliding open. "What the hell is taking so long?!"
She shied away, her pure white wolf ears folded against her head in fear as the angry guard stomped towards Fazz. She could never forget her first and most frequent rapist; his voice was far too distinct. He haunted her sleep, his smooth voice chased her constantly in nightmares, promising only suffering. "She asked a question."
"AND YOU ACTUALLY GAVE HER INFORMATION?!" The angry guard shrieked at Fazz's rather lame response. He in turn leaned back a bit in what she assumed was shock. "Uhhh… yeah?"
That seemed to be too much for the rapist asshole. He grabbed Fazz and dragged him out of the room; making sure to shoot her a glare through his visor before sealing the door. When the door stayed shut after several minutes she sighed in relief. Unfortunately, that's when the door decided to open again. "Thought you were being sneaky huh animal?!" She scrambled backwards until she collided with the wall. He was back. The monster that she could never escape. "It's time to teach you another lesson on your place in this prison."
His "superior" whirled on him. "Are you stupid?!"
He frowned. He didn't understand exactly what he did wrong, but he knew he screwed up. So he stood at attention, and awaited a verbal thrashing. "I don't understand the issue sir."
Instead of exploding at him like he expected, the other man just sighed wearily. "You're a good man Fazz, but you need to understand something." The guard put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. "Everyone in these cells is a dangerous criminal."
"But sir! She's just a kid!" He protested. "What could she have possibly done to end up here?"
He just got a rueful shake of the head in response. "It doesn't matter. It's our duty to make sure her and the other prisoners never get the chance to escape. The damage they could cause is unacceptable."
He understood that, but it still sat wrong with him. No kid like her should have had to fall into a life of crime. But he held his tongue. "Yes sir."
"Go to your bunk and catch some shut eye. This post can be taxing." He nodded. The dim hallways of the prison played havoc with his sense of time. If only he still had his stormtrooper armor. At least then he could see better in the lower light. This guard armor wasn't all bad though. It was more "roomy", and it sometimes had a clock in its HUD.
Belatedly, he realized that he'd been spacing out and hastily saluted. "Yes sir."
As he walked away he couldn't help but wonder what the girl did to end up here.
He watched Fazz walk away and sneered behind the faceplate of his helmet.
"Idiot." He muttered under his breath. Now then, time to teach that animal her place.
He flexed the appendage. Marveling at the novelty of It's skeletal appearance and soft mechanical whirrs. "How's the arm?"
Slate looked to his left. Cassus was there, leaned against the open door frame. He idly grasped his new forearm, twisting the wrist experimentally. "It's strange. Not being able to feel anything."
Cassus nodded, seemingly in understanding. "You'll get used to it. That particular model is rated for combat. Just don't go punching through walls all the time, it's made of durasteel not beskar. How're the rest of your injuries?"
He lightly stretched. "Mostly healed with a few new aches and pains as proof. My leg probably needs another day though."
Cassus nodded again before he straightened his stance, beckoning for him to follow as he moved to leave. "Come on. Time to meet the rest of the team."
Wincing when he put too much pressure on his left leg. He quickly shifted his weight and moved to catch up. "Since I've been out for a while, mind telling me where we are?"
Cassus grunted. "We left Sullust not too long ago, and we are enroute to Tatooine."
"We were still in the Sullust system?"
Cassus nodded. "Bunch of the gear and supplies on that rock were still in good condition. Leaving all of it behind would be downright wasteful."
"I see…" He didn't fully understand, but he could see the logic in not wanting to leave something valuable behind. The part that confused him was that he didn't really see what could possibly be valuable in that wretched rock aside from his lightsabers. Those hunks of junk that a blind man might've called starfighters would be useless to anyone with a brain. The weapons? No. He'd learned over the course of his healing; Cassus is indeed a Mandalorian like he thankfully assumed, and that he has access to far better weapons than those he killed. Armor? Again, no. For much the same reasons. He frowned. How vexing…
His mind had wandered some, but it was welcome. Thinking helped the hallways of the aging corvette pass. And wasn't that a surprise? How Cassus had gotten a hold of a military grade corvette, albeit a Clone Wars era one, was beyond him.
He blinked.
They'd arrived at the common room. The door slid open, revealing the occupants. A short, pale man with brown hair and blue eyes sat on the far end of the table cleaning a long blaster; while a blue skinned alien sat near him.
"I thought you guys were Mandalorians." He looked pointedly at Cassus. "What's with the Chiss?"
Cassus snorted, the shorter man he had yet to get the name of openly laughed, and the alien huffed. Once the shorter one got his chuckles under control he opened his mouth. Mirth written across his features. "I knew you said he was an imperial, but I wasn't expecting that!"
Cassus grunted in response. "I'm getting Varra." He moved to the other end of the room, and looked back. "Behave." With that, he was gone.
"Heads up!" His head snapped towards the sound. His eyes widened at the blaster rifle hurtling towards his head. Quickly, but clumsily; he snatched the rifle out of the air. Only fumbling slightly due to his unfamiliarity with his new arm. Wide eyed, he looked at the rifle resting in his hands.
"First and foremost." His head snapped to the glowing red eyes of the Chiss. His stoic demeanor and deadpan voice grated something fierce against his nerves. "Mandalorian isn't a species." The blue skin's expression turned from stoic to something resembling smug. "It's an idea, a culture. Anyone can be a Mandalorian. No matter the species." Now he was definitely being smug. "Oh, and I'm not a Mandalorian."
His anger spiked, but he grit his teeth and bit back a snarl. This blue skinned piece of-!
"Secondly." His head whipped to the right. His face set into a fierce scowl. The shorter man he had noticed earlier was smiling at him in unrestrained amusement. "That's a A259; your new rifle." He gaped at the smaller man. They expected him to use a blaster?! The nerve! No. Stop. Breathe. Killing them is a bad idea, no matter how much he wanted to do it, he needed to think. Not act on base urges. He was in too risky of a situation to just kill everyone who saw him; too much was at stake. "Oh, and you're welcome."
The smug jerk was testing what little patience he possessed. Thankfully, a distraction arrived. The door Cassus left through slid open, and a white and red astromech droid rolled in, beeping and warbling the whole while. "Hi arfive. Up to the usual shenanigans?"
The droid beeped rapidly in it's nonsensical droidspeak. He looked it over. "Arfive" lacked the dome-like head he was familiar with. Instead, it possessed a squat conical cylinder-esque head with a "trench" wrapping around near the base. It's irregular head also lacked the common large monolense eye, in its place were three small eye lenses placed horizontally towards the top of its head.
It was a less advanced astromech droid than the imperial R3-Q5 model he was familiar with, but it at least looked more robust.
The droid locked eyes with him and they seemed to just stare at each other for a while. Eventually it turned to look at the only other human in the room and beeped a few times. The man blinked before donning a rather sheepish look. "Right. Should probably introduce us." He stood, and pointed to his chest with his thumb. "The name's Sarrl. Sarrl Levinka. The best sharpshooter this side of the rim."
The newly named Sarrl pointed towards the astromech. "That's R5-D7." The little droid rocked from side to side and beeped a cheerful tune. Finally he pointed to the Chiss, but he didn't speak like he did for himself and arfive. Instead the blue skinned man introduced himself. "Kane, Kane Imou. The medic that saved your life."
He made some unintelligible noise; flummoxed at the revelation he owed his life to the newly named Kane. The knowledge alone ground something fierce against his general dislike of non humans. He shoved that particular dilemma aside for now in favor of a much more interesting detail. "Your name, it's awfully human."
Kane let out a short, almost toneless chuckle. "Makes sense considering my father was human."
His mouth hung in shock. "But you're a Chiss!"
Kane gave him a rather puzzled look. "Yeah…?"
He scowled. "I wasn't aware Chiss and Humans could breed."
Kane frowned at the word "breed". "I don't see why they wouldn't be able to. Chiss are descended from humans after all."
He flushed. An annoying automatic reaction of his body. Because guess what?! He just made himself look like an idiot. How was he supposed to know that?! Of course the Chiss look mostly human, but so do the Zeltrons. However, unlike the Zeltrons the Chiss just so happen to actually be related to humans! How could he not know this?!
The door opened once again, thankfully heralding Casuss's return. Trailing behind him was another Chiss, a female one this time. Her blue skin was the same shade as Kane's, and her jet-black hair was held back into a neat ponytail. Her face held similar features to Kane, but they looked softer. The second she entered the room all his attention was focused on her, nothing else in the room even registered to him. Though he couldn't place why, and that distressed him immensely. "Oh, he's cute."
He sputtered incoherently, completely flustered and his face redder than his lightsabers. She circled around him, a mischievous smirk stuck upon her lips, eying him like she was looking for something in particular. Her smirk widened. Oh no. Why did her smirk widen? He didn't like that.
"I like him, he can stay." She moved back towards the door she came through. Just before leaving the room; she looked back at him over her shoulder and threw him a wink. "We've been needing something nice to look at."
With that, she was gone, and the rest of the room came back into focus. It was only then that he heard Sarrl's sniggering. "C'mon Kane, it's not that bad." He looked over to Kane, his face had twisted in displeasure, and only twisted further from Sarrl's ribbing. The sight of the stoic man's displeasure brought a small vindictive smile to his face.
"Hey." He felt Cassus nudge his left shoulder to get his attention. "This crate-" Cassus thumped the side of a metal container. "-has the rest of the gear we salvaged for you. You should spend your time familiarizing yourself with it until you're fully healed."
He frowned, but nodded in assent. So they were salvaging all the scraps left by those he killed. Guess it all must possess some sort of value. His lack of knowledge about how the galaxy at large functions must be rectified. Bumbling in ignorance was absolutely unacceptable.
"Come on. I'll show you to a spare room." As he followed Cassus deeper into the ship, he couldn't help but think that maybe life wasn't so bad after all. Sure, not everything was great, but this was his life now. That of a common mercenary. He chose this, and now he must live with it.
Her vision was blurry, and everything was surrounded by a ring of black. She could barely make anything out through the haze, but she could still hear. "Why is she bruised?"
Her stomach dropped. She knew that voice. That filtered, and horribly sweet voice that haunted her at every moment; promising cruelty and pain for the rest of her life.
One of the blurry figures shifted their upper body in a way she couldn't discern. "Must've fallen."
The horrid voice hummed. "No matter. It shall assist the experiment. You may leave."
She saw one of the blurry shapes leave her rapidly clearing vision. A few blinks later and she could see the familiar interior of a lab, and the most evil being she has ever met. Only one other came even close to being as hated; the bastard who owned the mine. The monster had forced her and her father to watch as he blew her mother's brains out with his pistol. She remembered the blind, thrashing rage her father had been consumed by. He spat curses and death threats as the fat pig watched her and her father get branded with sadistic pleasure. "Ah good, you're awake."
It, for this monster couldn't possibly be a person, raised a vial full of some strange viscous green fluid. She stared at the glass container in abject terror, instinct having been long since conditioned to fear anything related to her personal torturer. "I see you've noticed the core ingredient of today's experiment."
Her body shook in fear and she forced down her natural reaction to resist releasing anything out of spite. She could feel the tubes and needles that had been shoved into her arm and… lower areas, ready to collect or dispose of any "samples". She never thought she could be so violated before she came to this place, and it disgusts her on a fundamental level what they've done to her body.
"I'm glad you've taken such interest in my work, dear!" She shuddered at the pet name it had given her. "This," It indicated to the vial. "-is perhaps the single greatest achievement of science since the hyperdrive was invented!"
Luna had no idea what a "hyperdrive" was, and she didn't care to know right now. All she knew was that if this monster thought whatever was in that vial as great, then it must be bad news.
"It's all thanks to you dear! Those samples from the experiment on your nervous system allowed me to make a breakthrough in my research!" She remembered that one. It had cut from the base of her skull to her lower back, and peeled. Then it poked and prodded her spine for what felt like years. She could never forget the blinding agony she felt during, and afterwards. "And as a reward for your participation, you get to be the first to try it!"
It shoved the vial into a port on her collar, and she felt cold liquid enter her blood. Her skin paled when nothing happened, and the monster started counting.
"One, two, three, four, five." It removed the vial and pressed a button on its forearm.
Her whole body erupted in burning pain. She screamed in agony, the sound came out muffled and her teeth clenched so tightly against the metal ball of the gag that they felt as if they were about to break. The pain grew to be too much for her to utter a sound. It became so intense her vision went a funny color for some period of time, then slowly it started to lessen, and sight returned to her. When it lessened she could think again, and immediately noticed two things. Her Aura was back, and the restraint on her left arm was loose. What she didn't notice were the healed bruises, and increase in her Aura reserves.
Her Semblance roared to life, and a conical explosion erupted from her wrist when she used what little room she had to slam it into the restraint. The material disintegrated under the force of the blast, and her torturer was sent flying into the wall.
Alarms blared, and sprinklers in the ceiling activated from the smoke as she began to undo the rest of her restraints. When the last one was done she sat up, removed her gag, briefly worked her jaw to rid it of soreness, and pulled the three tubes out of her lower holes. She winced at the brief feeling of suction that held the tubes in before it gave way to smooth sliding. Hurriedly she moved off the table onto the ice fucking cold floor and ran for the door. Immediately, her eyes caught sight of a slouched figure leaning against the wall near the door and she stopped; only one thing running through her mind.
Revenge.
She stalked towards the figure and cocked her fist, ready to fire another blast. So what if it slowed her escape? They couldn't stop her now even if they tried. Unfortunately that's when the head of the body looked up. She stopped, her arm going slack as she gaped. Too shocked by the solid, glowing red eyes and blue skin.
A Faunus?!
Blood ran down the side of her torturers head and their eyes shone with a madness that couldn't be masked by the solid color, but she was definitely a Faunus. All this time she had thought it was some fucking human, but it was a Faunus just like her. Not only that, it was also a woman! She had always assumed her tormentor was a man. How? How could she be so cruel to one of her own people?
"It worked…" The blue skinned Faunus muttered.
She shook herself out of her shock, and pulled her fist back. "Die."
She threw the punch.
"No."
Her Aura and strength abruptly disappeared just before her punch would've connected and blasted the fucker into paste. Her body collided with the wall unable to stop her momentum even as she started to collapse. She bounced off and fell into a heap on the floor, completely unable to move. Her vision began to darken, and soon it all went black.
A.N./ I know, I know. An awful lot of Chiss so far for a rather rare species to come across in Star Wars. There are several plot related reasons for this, and the Chiss just so happen to be one of my favorite species in Star Wars.
Also, writing the torture scenes is… yikes. Like good fucking god what the fuck? I know they're not SUPER in-depth and I'm the one who wrote it, but shit man. Makes me super uncomfortable.
Still though, this is all important in some way. So alas, it must continue for a bit longer.
Had a scene for the arrival at Tatooine planned, but ultimately cut it for various reasons.
I've also noticed through working on several other projects that I have a tendency to be rather cruel to characters at first.
Strange no?
Stranger853: Ayyy! Your grammar is fine my dude! And wow. A freshman huh? As someone who has already graduated, trust me I get it. I appreciate your compliment, and hey! Guess what? Oh right, if you're reading this reply you've already read the new chapter.
This is actually the last chapter of what I call the "Establishment arc", the majority of the important characters have been introduced, and the plot has started to get rolling, if only barely. There's also a message that's been hinted at, but not enough that I actually expect any of you to figure out what it is.
Peace muh dudes!