Author's Note: Dearest readers, this is just an extra thank you for reading this ongoing passion project. I appreciate you all sticking around over the years, new readers and old. My heart is full because I'm watching ideas that I've been cooking since Season 1 finally get payoff now. And it's been so very worth it. To the reader who suggested that this story be on TV Tropes, I'd be honored if someone did so. Back in the day I was astonished to find my fanfic series "Trailblaze" on TV tropes. Although I feel like whoever would take on The Frozen Force would have their hands full with how long it is. Regardless, I really just want to say thank you. I love writing this story and entertaining all of you. Onward and upward.

~ Sparks

ADVISORY: The following chapter contains sensitive material relating to: Sexual content, trauma, violence, human trafficking, and drug abuse. Remember to practice self care before, during, and after reading.

ACT IV ANNA

Chapter: 134 The Next Wrong Thing

- ACCESSING IMPERIAL NETWORK -

IHC: Imperial High Command to all regional governors in the Mid and Outer Rim Territories. Ensure that all statistics are up to date, from manufacturing schedules to crime rates. No detail is to be left out of the full inspection. Governors are to prepare statements for the upcoming summit, held accordingly by Grand Moff Tarkin.

The shriek of patrolling TIE fighter squadrons was a common occurrence for the occupants of Fortress Inquisitorius. But for Hans, these increasingly loud flybys were only irking him further. Each zoom was like a sharp buzz in his ear as he deepened his hunch. "Shut up," he mumbled as if any of those pilots could hear him. The data collection room would've been pitch black, had it not been for the illumination of screens clustered at its center. Datapads lay piled at Hans' feet, each displaying reports and articles from various worlds. Another flyby rattled the datapads on the main terminal, where massive screens were practically frying Hans' eyes. What parts of his perpetual stare hadn't turned yellow were now poisoned by swelling and veiny redness. His left eye twitched as he gritted his teeth. His stubble had grown into patches of an unkept beard. His locks were filthy and disheveled as he swiveled his head from screen to screen. These panels cycled through a variety of planets in the Imperial database and listed any incident reports. Opposite of the TIEs soaring by the window, Hans' comlink blipped occasionally.

Any chime...any disturbance that wasn't of his own doing...had Hans' rage growing. His breaths were shortening as he scoured through file after file. Reports were skimmed over and disposed of while hundreds of security images were archived. Hans' throbbing pointer finger persisted to type notes on his datapad. "Where-" he hissed. "Where..."

As another TIE squadron rocketed past the fortress, Hans exhaled profusely. His final straw came as the comlink chimed yet again, and he grabbed it as though to wring the caller's neck. With an animalistic roar, Hans threw the device against the nearest wall and smashed it to pieces. Riding his wave of rage, he spun to the terminal and swiped his arms across. Stacks of datapads came toppling over in a symphony of frustration. Betwixt the clatter, Hans kicked the storage equipment across the room while stomping on others. He then ripped one of the datascreens out from the wall, letting its snapped wires dangle like mechanical entrails. After smashing it against the floor, he stared up at the other monitor still cycling through planets. Fed up, he punched its center. A web of cracks formed on the desert planet of Jakku before the screen succumbed to static.

Hans stood there for a moment, festering in his rage. He let his booted heels grind against broken datapads as the doors opened behind him. A pair of Inquisitors slowly entered, observing the destruction of Hans' tantrum. Sensing their familiar presences, Hans recognized the duo as the same hunters paired with him to kill Master Benja.

"No wonder you're Vader's Wrath," the Avinarian scoffed as he salvaged a piece of the comlink with his talons.

"I told you not to call while I'm working," Hans grumbled and straightened what sweaty hairs he could.

"Only you're not working," the woman beside him jeered while removing her helmet. Her black undercut was as sharp as it was bold. "You've been at this for months and you know the rules. We don't take a hunt unless instructed to do so."

"Don't lecture me, Namaari." Hans retorted. "We can also take a hunt if evidence of a Jedi is found. How we come across said evidence doesn't matter." Hans hobbled over to the only remaining datascreen and checked its functionality. "She couldn't have gotten far...and her sister is out there too. Find one...find the other. We-...we should be setting traps. Locking down witnesses for interrogation. Making them-"

"Hans-" the Avinarian huffed.

"What?" Vader's Wrath snapped accordingly, his voice reverberating throughout the room.

"Enough of this ruse," his fellow Inquisitor cawed. Reflections shimmered across his beaked helmet as he shook his head. "We know why you're really on this hunt. You're still not over the Grand Inquisitor's death after all these years." Hans raised a brow as the Avinarian continued. "You think you had some special bond with him because you two joined this together...that you're entitled to something. Well get this through your head, killing Anna Dellian won't earn you favor with Lord Vader. You won't get promoted to Grand Inquisitor!"

While Namaari remained silent, she subtly...yet impulsively nodded in agreement. Both Inquisitors turned to Hans as he took his time to answer. He scratched at his bearded jaw, rubbed his swollen eyes, and sighed. "Take your helmet off," he told his comrade. "Unless you're afraid to look me in the eye when you talk big."

Namaari glanced over as the Avinarian stammered. Mustering his own anger, he unfastened the hinges on his helmet. A layer of pale feathers emerged to rest against his pitch black chestplate. Any traces of similar darkness came in the form of speckles and across his shadowy beak. While his eyes were as corrupted as Hans', most focus fell upon the scorched scars across his face. Entire streaks and patches lined his narrow visage, cursed to never grow feathers again. No matter how hard he tried to carry himself as an intimidating presence, Gav Riden was filled with shame.

Hans could sense Gav's discomfort and swallowed it whole as he stepped forward. He got as close as possible, stopping only at Gav's shoulder and leaning towards his ear. "Let's get one thing clear," Hans hissed. "I don't give a damn about the Grand Inquisitor. With the way he always acted, he probably got what was coming to him. To think you actually believe I'd want a promotion shows the truth behind all of this. That after all these years, you're still a squawking child playing games. This hunt for the Dellian girls is personal. When I find Anna...I will make her suffer in ways that'd put Imperials to shame." With a tightening scowl, Hans shoved past Gav and recovered one of the fallen datapads. As the other Inquisitors watched, Hans resumed his obsessive search. For no matter how vast the galaxy was, he had to believe that Anna was alive.


The smuggler's moon of Nar Shaddaa was a vestibule of bustling raucousness. While unmarked airspeeders zipped between tightly stacked edifices, silhouettes darted across the streets. The moon's cities never slept, and were constantly thriving with criminal activity. Various cantinas serviced a rowdy assortment of clientele. While most were offworld spacers traveling for shady dealings, others just wanted to disappear. And yet in spite of that fact, heavy competition made it difficult to keep a low profile.

Vibrant, indigo lights strobed as a crowd gathered in one of the watering holes. A swarm of Culisetto buzzed with intrigue, casting credits on a table to place wagers. Despite being so eager, the Culisetto fled as a body collapsed on the table. Passed out beyond the brink of inebriation, the Bith's bulbous head still had credit chips stuck to it. His unfinished stein leaked ale across the table while empty cups toppled at his feet. Instead of showing further concern, the Culisetto cheered...as did the majority of bar patrons. Shouts and roars erupted as all eyes fell to the adjacent section of the table. A boot boldly struck its edge, as if claiming the territory as the wearer's own.

With a proud swing of her arm, the booted figure chugged her next stein of Trandoshan Ale. The crowd watched in awe, dumbfounded at the human's tolerance. Keeping herself upright, she gulped down the ale and savored every last drop. Waves of auburn hair fell as she hung her head. An accomplished, stupefied grin came across her lips as her audience exploded into applause. And as they collected their winnings, the last drinker standing raised her empty stein.

The cantina was an echoey blur to Anna Dellian, but she lived for the glory of it all. Feeding off of their cheers, she threw the stein at her stack of empty ones, causing several to smash as they toppled over. "Undefeated!" she shouted while trying to keep her balance. After receiving several pats from victorious patrons, Anna stumbled off of the table and noticed a spacer sitting across the way. The scruffy pilot kept glancing over at her, doing his best to make sure she didn't notice. After he'd failed miserably...Anna smirked and stared back. Discovered, the pilot straightened the flight goggles atop his head and let his eyes rest on Anna.


The pilot's ship was a ramshackle mess. Rusted piping and the occasional scurrying of wild Gizka in the vents made for lovely safety violations. The amount of unsecured equipment atop the shelves was hazardous alone. Adding tumultuous and rigorous motion to the mix was a recipe for chaos. With each heavy thrust beneath the shelves, tools and packaging plummeted to the floors beside the bed. In their place, a pair of sweaty hands gripped the empty shelves...giving each other more leverage. Their wild frenzy of grunts and moans turned to weakened pants as the covers simmered.

The pilot dropped, a stupified grin plastered across his younger face. Anna rolled beside him, smugly smirking at the state she'd rendered him in. Wearing his goggles atop her sweaty head, she ran her fingers across his bare chest. "Good deal," the pilot panted, caressing her back. He then reached reached for a fallen satchel and recovered a pair of vials. The sight of those multicolor death sticks excited Anna far more than any physical touch he could've given her. In fact, she had to restrain herself from crawling over him to get the death sticks faster.

Lighting his own first, he offered to do hers and was surprised when she instead held out a hand. "No way," the pilot sputtered while puffing his death stick. "You do 'em hard like that?"

"Don't be such a baby," Anna scolded and forced her hand towards him again. He did as she said and poured the granules into her palm. Anna was quick to crush and ravenously snort the bunch. The pilot was as shocked as he was perturbed as Anna twitched. This sudden convulsion settled as her brows relaxed and she slouched forward. As if a newly-formed wall had been built within her mind to hold back a flood of pain. "Now that," she moaned, her nose still stuffy. "Is a good deal."

A triangular, bronzium device chimed from the floor. This communicator was one of Anna's many loose items spilled alongside her bag and discarded clothes. "This is where we part ways," Anna mumbled and slinked out of bed.

"So soon?" the pilot smoked and lazily reached for her bare body. "But I think I'm in love." Anna didn't even humor him as she sluggishly got dressed. Gathering her belongings, she picked up the device to check it over. Still, the pilot persisted. "Come on, baby. I ain't got nothin to live for anyway. You and me can fly anywhere. Do this all the time." He scrambled out of bed, barely keeping the covers over his lower half as he held up a bag. "I got more death sticks." Anna glanced at the bag before looking over at him. "Whaddya say?" he proposed, smoke slithering through his widening smile.

Without hesitation, Anna gathered her belongings to her left hand. And as the man prepared for her to set them down, she delivered a ferocious sucker punch with her right. The strike was severe enough to draw blood, and send the unsuspecting pilot toppling over the side of the bed. Dazed, whimpering, and in way over his head...all he could do was writhe under the blankets. Anna paid him no further attention and instead stole his bag of deathsticks before disembarking from the craft.

Nar Shaddaa's brisk streets were unforgiving as Anna shuddered. She pushed through to activate her communicator and answer, "Yeah?"

"Took you long enough," a Trandoshan hissed. "Where have you been?"

"You said to kill some time until your boss was ready," Anna scoffed. "So that's what I've been doing, Tizu."

Tizu sighed. "I pulled a lot of strings to make this meeting happen. So don't kriff this up. I'll meet you at Binali's. About a block east from the usual cantina. Ugly little sign. Can't miss it."


It mattered not how cold and unforgiving the city streets were. On death sticks, Anna owned Nar Shaddaa. She felt numbed to the stares of onlookers and could barely even hear her own thoughts. She had blurred, tunnel vision as she trudged her way passed downtrodden spacers and shady vagabonds. As she came to a musty intersection, she observed her surroundings. A network of alleyways led to nothing but shadows and disoriented voices. Poorly-maintained streetlights flickered over abandoned airspeeders as the homeless used them for shelter. Just beyond the hapless sight, patrons hobbled and limped their way into Binali's.

Attached to several other buildings on the block, this establishment boasted an illuminated sign and nothing more. As if all budget, power, and effort had been funneled into keeping this fancy font alive. All in the hopes of attracting Nar Shaddaa's worst scum imaginable. Muffled music and distorted cackles emanated from inside as Anna closed in.

"There you are," Tizu beckoned from the nearest alley. The lanky Trandoshan had shed into a fresh layer golden scales. And while the shimmer was distracting, his scarlet stare proved all the more intimidating. "I was about to call this whole thing off. I know I said you were a valuable asset. That there was freedom in this line of work. But that doesn't mean you get to just slack off. Especially when it comes to meeting the boss."

"Mhm," Anna barely acknowledged without making eye contact.

Tizu rolled his eyes, realizing how high she was. As someone who sold her death sticks, he knew she used. And yet, Tizu still hoped she'd be able to demonstrate self control when it came to business. "Just...let me do most of the talking," he grumbled as Anna nodded. "Come on."

The duo stepped into Binali's, and were instantly assaulted by uproarious banter. Patrons guzzled down mug after mug at the counter while others gathered around a dancing Twi'lek. As she spun across the stage, onlookers tossed anything from credits to bottle caps at her feet. Adjacent from the stage, a twitching droid wheeled itself over to blaster-scorched tables. Its gears clacked into overdrive just to help it deliver food to customers. As it turned around, Anna could see the owner's multiple attempts to fix the droid himself. Tape, bags, and wires lay fastened together across its back as it barely wheeled forward.

"D-50," Tizu beckoned the droid over. Once the poor being managed to get close enough, Tizu leaned in and whispered, "Tell Binali we're here for the special menu." D-50's broken response sounded like five sentences meshed into one as it wheeled its way to the bar. Having damaged his spacial processor, he just kept wheeling until he smacked into the counter. He then backed up, and ran into again. This crashing was repeated until a patron called out to Binali. A mustachioed, older human emerged from the kitchen, still wiping chopped nerf from his ungloved fingers. Binali listened closely to D-50's broken speech and looked up after deciphering it. As Anna and Tizu approached, Binali suddenly unlocked the door beside kitchen. A brief nod would be their only exchange as they entered a shadowy corridor.

It wouldn't be long before the eatery's upbeat tunes became a blur. And in some twist of eerie irony, the area out of civilian view seemed surprisingly cleaner. Cracked, duracrete walls transitioned into rows of packaged crates. As Anna followed Tizu into an expansive, warehouse-like room, she heard the digital whir of engines. A group of various species were gathered around, watching and cheering for a broadcasted podrace. Anna raised a brow as one of them shook his fists with excitement, and she noticed the blaster at his hip. Across from them, other employees were stacking more crates while a smokey aroma reached Anna.

She followed the smell beyond the crates and observed a hefty cauldron. Behind it leaned a bipedal, frog-like creature. This amphibian let out labored croaks with each heavy stir as they continued to cook their soup. Its bulky coat added nearly four layers to its body as it stirred...and stirred. As Tizu stepped away to find their boss, Anna felt herself becoming entranced by the soup. Both in sight and smell, the broth itself comprised of golden waves. Salty herbs were sent on their flavorful voyage while chopped nerf bubbled to its surface. These delectable chunks of meat were swarmed by a sea of fresh, thick noodles. All of which was continuously stirred by a very focused amphibian.

"Wow," Anna admired as the frog woman croaked. "That looks really good," she complimented...as the frog woman croaked. "What is it?" she asked, prompting the frog woman to pause. She tensely gripped her stirrer, looked up at Anna with her colossal beady eyes, croaked...and returned to stirring.

"Miss Belcam doesn't talk much," a young woman jested, drawing Anna's attention. "But my does that old frog love her soup."

Belcam croaked once more and continued stirring as Anna followed the voice. Escorted by Tizu, this young woman carried herself higher than anyone in the room. In fact, the towering Trandoshan beside her almost looked...afraid. Bleached, spiky blonde hair trailed down to this boss' hips as she approached Anna. She was short in stature, yet not once feeling intimidated by a new face. Instead, she grinned eagerly while looking Anna up and down. Gripping the ends of a crimson, leather jacket, she let herself take all of Anna in. And as her hazel stare settled on Anna's listing gaze, she smirked.

Worried that Anna's condition would anger their boss, Tizu spoke up. "Anna, this is Flare."

"Bup bup bup," Flare snapped, alternating between a perplexed stare and daring squint. "We ladies can talk for ourselves. So...you're the new recruit I've heard so much about. Tizu says you're capable anyway, but what about you? Ready to earn more than you ever have in your life? Anna, is it?"

Steadying herself with a deep breath, Anna brought her eyes back to Flare. "Tell me what you need," she replied. "As long as it pays what I need, I'll get it done."

Flare chuckled. "That's what I like to hear. I mean, it's not like you'd have a choice anyway. You've already seen my face and where I live. So you're in or you're in at this point." While the rest of Flare's goons laughed, Anna stayed statuesque.

"Just tell me what you need," Anna sighed.

Flare waved a finger at Anna. "Straight to business. I like that in an employee. You picked a good one, Tizu!" The Trandoshan nodded nervously as she continued. "Trial by fire it is then. You handle this job and I'll throw a few more your way. I need a spice shipment delivered to Felucia. Tizu can give you the coordinates. You go there and back. No banthashit. I'll be generous and give you the ship and everything. Then you just bring me back the 40,000 credits." Flare's finger stiffened as she jabbed it at Anna. "But try to cross me? Try to take the spice and run or even a pinch of those credits for yourself...you're kriffing dead. My crew and I will hunt you down. You'll never sleep again knowing what you'll suffer when we get you. You understand me, sleemo?" As Flare scolded Anna, she remained completely deadpan. The idea that this youthful crime lord was trying to scare her was somewhat comical to Anna. After everything she'd been through...all she'd lost...and Flare actually thought she was scary. Playing the part in the name of death sticks and credits, Anna nodded. "But those are just...disclaimers," Flare assured while putting an arm around Anna. "I know you'll make me proud. And in return, you'll be treated right in my crew. Plus when you get back, we can all feast on Belcam's soup!" The old frog croaked as Anna was guided to another backroom. As she stepped off she glanced back at Tizu, who was slow clapping for her success.

Anna was guided into a secret hangar, where Flare had two spice running ships stashed alongside crates. "This one's already loaded," her Twi'lek escort said before lowering the ship's ramp. "Good luck to ya."

Anna nodded and boarded the oblong vessel. Sitting at its controls, she could hardly recall the last time she'd flown something herself. And while her flight skills were passible, she'd still never forget the first time she'd learned to fly. As she reached for the controls, a haunting memory had her hands twitching.


"Alrighty then," Master Mattias had said. "I mean, I was going to let you fly the ship but-"

Anna's buckle flew off as she launched out of her seat. "No no!" she blurted. "Please go on, master."

Mattias smirked and slid to the co-pilot's chair. "I got it all warmed up for you." Anna plopped into the seat and let her hands hover over an assortment of flickering switches. "Go ahead and prime the boosters with that overhead lever, then steer us steady."

Anna bit her lip and followed as instructed. Her breaths hastened as the ship turned with her movements. "This is hardcore," she said. Mattias humored her with a chuckle and leaned over. As he guided her further, he cherished seeing a genuine smile across her face. Even if it was temporary, he relished a moment where he could teach her something new without conflict. "Which way do I go?" Anna asked.

"For now, the stars are your limits. Show me what you're made of." That was all Anna needed to hear as she swerved across the blackness of space. With each sway of the ship's powerful prowess, Anna's grin widened. "You know," Mattias suggested. "If you like flying so much, perhaps you can become a Jedi Ace someday. I could see you as one of the best in the Jedi Order's Starfighter Corps."

"One of the?" Anna chuckled. "I'd be the best, master."


Anna gasped herself out of the memory. Her hands quaked at the controls, matching the ship's engines starting to rumble. Her breaths hastened, as she still imagined sharing a laugh with Mattias. Her fallen master's laugh was so kind and genuine. That laugh transitioned to a scream as she imagined Mattias calling for help as Hans slaughtered him. Desperate to hinder the memory, Anna practically ripped open her bag. Reaching for the deathsticks she'd stolen from the pilot, she was quick to crush and snort a bundle. Reclining her head at the scorching sensation, Anna succumbed to the ensuing high, as Mattias' screams faded away. With her senses dulled, Anna gripped the controls and took off out of the hangar. During her ascension into deep space, Anna felt a rising tightness on her forehead. Reaching for her temple, she soon realized that she'd been wearing the pilot's goggles for hours. Disgusted, she threw them to the floor. Even after doing so, she still heard his whimpering cries. To combat this, she snorted another death stick vial for good measure.


The flight to Felucia was a blurred mess. The jump to lightspeed itself was as hypnotic as it was mind boggling. If Anna focused hard enough, there were moments where it felt as though her ship was flying in reverse, and that the hyperspace streaks were swirling around her. As the ship rocketed to its inputed coordinates, Anna didn't even fully glimpse Felucia at first. Instead she saw a temperate blob that looked more like colored streaks against her viewport. Every sound was delayed as she chose to read the dashboard's directions instead. Following Flare's mapping, she began a harsh descent into the planet's atmosphere.

What a joke, Anna thought to herself. For years, the Republic battled for control of Felucia. Clones were blasted to pieces trying to hold off droid battalions...and for what? For no one to win anyway.

Whatever battlefields once ravaged the jungle terrain had now been reclaimed by nature. Felucia looked unchanged, as only those who'd fought on its soil suffered. Anna's ship listed through turbulent winds as she tried to level out. "Kriffing hell," she griped while easing on the throttle. Guiding the ship to a sunken ravine, Anna noticed a thin craft parked along the cliffside. "There's...the buyer," she mumbled through slurred speech.

The fellow smuggler swayed his old arms, watching Anna's atrocious landing job from afar. The ship dipped and swished, ultimately scraping the cliffs before settling beside him. Feeling like she was pulling with all of her strength, Anna tugged a lever and released the cargo hold's contents.

The elderly, Weequay smuggler tsked and shook his head. "Shame what passes for a delivery this day," he grumbled, only to immediately change his demeanor as Anna emerged. "Aha!" the Weequay cheered. "Welcome! I take it you have precisely what I ordered?"

"Of course," Anna groaned and lazily waved a hand at the crates. "It's all there. You have the money?"

"Do I have the-" the smuggler exaggerated a gasp with how insulted he appeared. "Hondo Ohnaka almost always has the money! And this...is one of those always times." Anna paused, furrowing her brows at the Weequay's name. "What?" Hondo jested while hoisting a credit case from his container. "Don't believe me?"

"It's not that," Anna muttered. "Have-...have we met before?"

Hondo scratched at his dry and spiny chin. Removing his goggles, he squinted at Anna and hummed in deep thought. "Hmm not likely. I remember everyone I cross paths with. And I don't recognize you." Anna scoffed at his earnest answer and shot him a glare. Uncomfortable, Hondo shrugged deeply. "Well, if we're done here...I'll be heading off then. Hondo has his spice and...you've got your credits. Give my regards to Flare. I still think of her mother after all of these years."

Anna sat on her ship's ramp, waiting with the credit case as several maintenance droids in Hondo's service lifted the spice crates. She took a simple peek at the stacked credit chips, and that alone was enough for her to verify. It wasn't like she could count the money out in her mental state anyway. While the droids finished loading, Anna noticed Hondo staring off over the ravine. He looked heavily focused on something, and it was enough have her skulking to his side.

"How many for nothing, eh?" he remarked and gestured to one of the shallow cliffs below. Anna looked down and saw the remnants of her past life. Clone armor pieces and blasted droid parts were still scattered throughout the cliffside. Their faded colors still fought for relevance, even as Felucia's foliage reclaimed them over the years. Amid the assortment of war relics, Anna found herself staring at a Phase 1 clone trooper helmet. Its main visor was still intact, while a web of vines had wrapped around the rest of its white casing.

"You're our sister, Anna-" an old voice came to haunt her. "And you always will be."

For a moment, Anna didn't see an entrapped helmet. She saw Sergeant Blazer's very real...decapitated head laying in those vines. His unblinking eyes made Anna shudder as she backed away from the cliff's edge. "I need to go," she uttered and staggered towards the ship.

Hondo craned his neck at Anna, watching as she practically threw herself onto the ramp and boarded the vessel. As she made a hasty and disorderly exit, Hondo shook his head. While he'd done his best to be formal, he'd dealt with plenty in her condition before. "Death sticks," he said to himself. "A terrible addiction really. This is why I drink!" Popping open his flask, Hondo guzzled down his strongest brew before leaving Felucia behind.


Anna had inputted the coordinates back to Nar Shaddaa as quickly as possible. And yet, no matter how much she tried to stay calm, the tension within continued to grow. She could see Blazer's deathly eyes staring into her own. Soon, she felt the weight of Speedy and Sparx's eyes on her head as well. As if no matter where she turned in the cockpit, she would be cursed. The lightspeed streaks of hyperspace had become a ghostly vortex, and Anna's condition worsened as she stared into it. She imagined herself running away as Mattias died behind her. Just the sheer presence of Hans in Anna's thoughts was enough to cause her physical pain as she clutched her chest.

She couldn't look out the viewport any longer and exited the cockpit. Stumbling down the corridors, Anna felt her knees weakening as she barely breathed. As she collapsed in the hold, every death...every painful face she'd lost came crashing down on her. "Stop," she whimpered, clawing at her scalp.

"You left!" Kristoff's voice roared within.

"You did this," Hans' voice was far more sinister. "You made this happen. You left me! And now we can suffer together."

"No!" Anna screamed into the void of her empty ship. Feeling specks against the floor, she realized that spice residue had spilled from one of the crates. Without hesitation, Anna scooped up what she could along her fingernail and desperately tried to snort it. What she couldn't snort, she licked up...ignoring the dirt and savoring the rest as if every particle had to be absorbed. The minimal sting gave her just enough of a push to return for her bag. Stepping on the pilot's goggles in the process, she nearly punched his bag open and withdrew more death sticks. Crunching two vials worth of granules, Anna snorted the contents and went for her personal bag. By the time she started to unscrew a bottle of Revnog and start downing it, her senses were starting to fade.


While proximity alerts were meant to get spacers off autopilot, Anna couldn't remember them being so...loud. In fact, everything was so loud. From the shuffling of her boots to the clinking of multiple, empty Revnog bottles. The potent stench of alcohol reeked from her parting lips as she rolled across the ship's floor. Multi-colored residue left a powdered mustache on Anna's groggy face as she awakened. She winced as the proximity alerts persisted, and quickly realized her ship was heading straight into Nar Shaddaa's atmosphere. "Kriff," she huffed and threw herself at the controls. Listing lazily to the left, she followed the return coordinates back to Binali's.

If there was such a thing as the 'Will of the Force'...it was the only thing keeping Anna alive. Airspeeders and pedestrians all underwent near death experiences as Anna's ship swerved through the night. The moon's lack of proper authorities worked in Anna's favor as she recklessly landed the ship back in its hangar.

Anna stumbled down the ramp, swishing the credit case in her hand until one of Flare's goons hastily recovered it. This scurrying Sullustan was quick with his hands to count through the chips and their rows. He then scanned them over with a verification device and brought the case to Flare. "It's all here, boss," he confirmed.

The young woman flashed a toothy grin while Tizu sighed in relief. She started a slow clap and prompted those working for her to join the applause. "Anna, Anna, Anna!" Flare admired. "I didn't doubt you for a second. A smooth and bountiful delivery." She happily rubbed Anna's shoulder. "You're part of this crew now, and I take care of my own. You'll get a fair share of the credits."

"Sticks," Anna muttered and Flare raised a brow. "Keep your money. I just want sticks."

Flare glanced at Tizu, who simply shrugged. Capitalizing on Anna's lack of monetary interest, Flare rejoiced. "But of course! Tizu-" she called to the Trandoshan. "Grab the good stuff." As he fetched a large carrier for Anna, Flare returned to her. "You'll find that death sticks are an easy commodity here on the Smuggler's Moon." Anna would've shown more surprise at the death stick bag, had her senses not been numbed from the previous usage. "Hard work is always rewarded here, sister." Flare said. Anna knitted her brows, as the word 'sister' clung to her for a moment. Before she could linger on the thought further, Flare put an arm around her. "Now then, profit never sleeps. I've got another delivery lined up for you. In fact, ship's already been loaded while we've been talking!" Flare handed a fresh datapad with coordinates to Kessel. "Same as last time," she explained. "Only now you're making the trade to get us more spice to sell. No nonsense, get it done. And hopefully that soup will be done when you get back. Right, Miss Belcam?" The old frog croaked and continued stirring. Anna started to wonder if she'd ever stopped stirring.

As Anna returned to her ship, she looked over the datapad's information. Though her vision blurred at times, it gave directions for getting to a spice mine and how to properly greet members of the Pyke Syndicate. Accepting her new contract, Anna boarded her vessel yet again. Her steps were heavier, clanging against the ramp as she battled body aches. After sealing the ramp, she was about to make her way to the cockpit when a muffled whimper reached her ears. Anna flinched, bracing for another panic attack as her past returned to haunt her. While such episodes were becoming more frequent, she at least had a greater supply of death sticks to ward them off. Oddly enough, no memories accompanied the persistent whimpers as Anna paused. Glancing away from the cockpit, she soon realized that the sounds were very real.

With each passing step towards the cargo hold, the distressed sounds increased...putting Anna on edge. When she opened the doors, several shrieks echoed and silhouettes shuffled about. "What...the...hell?" was all Anna could utter. A cluster of malnourished youths ranging from humans to Twi'leks and even aquatic Quarren were trapped inside. They huddled into a corner as a single unit and held up bruised hands. Weighted binders kept their arms from extending for very long as Anna looked over the prisoners. And even in her dreary state, memories of Coruscant flashed within. She recalled sneaking out of the Jedi Temple with Hans and uncovering the Slitter Gang's secret vault...only to realize that they were holding-

"Slave trafficking victims," Anna whispered. The prisoners were only teenagers, whose bloodshot eyes had dried from shedding copious tears. The longer Anna stared at them, the more it all made sense. She was to deliver them to the spice mines of Kessel, all in the name of Flare's profit. Be it from the drugs or the sight, nausea gripped Anna. She stepped into the hold, frightening the prisoners further. As she looked at their terrified faces, a horrifying reality came over Anna. No matter how much she'd done...how much she'd lost...how many years had past...she'd become the very thing she swore to destroy. Her first mission as a Padawan saw her investigating the Slitters, and now she was to be a trafficking criminal herself.

"How many for nothing, eh?" Hondo's voice echoed in her mind.

Anna knelt before the nearest prisoner, who was too scared and tired to fight back. To this Quarren's surprise, Anna asked, "Can you fly a ship?" His tentacles quivered confusedly as she asked again. "You look like you're the oldest here," she said. "Can you fly a ship?" The Quarren nodded and worriedly braced for the worst. Suddenly, Anna powered down his binders and removed them. While he was left dumbfounded, she quickly freed the nearest prisoner. As the others caught on, they soon stopped running away from Anna. Shackles continued to clunk to the floor as the captives felt their wrists once more. Returning to the Quarren, Anna jabbed a finger towards the cockpit. "Get the engines started and fly as far away from here as possible. I don't care where just not here." Earnestly grateful, the Quarren pulled Anna into an embrace. "Yes...yeah...okay go. Go!" Anna's final snap had the youths scrambling as she stepped off of the ramp. She waited in the hangar, clutching her bag as the vessel powered up and rocketed away. She observed the second ship in the hangar for a moment and then looked back at the warehouse doors.

Back in the main warehouse, Flare had just finished transferring her freshly-earned credits. She ignored the hangar entryway hissing open, but was thrown off when Tizu blurted, "Anna?"

Flare's head shot up. "What are you doing here?" she asked. "Didn't I just hear the delivery ship take off?"

Anna sighed, "You did."

Flare pressed her cheek to her tongue. "And who might I ask is flying it? I assigned that job to you." Anna stood idly by, making Flare blow her short fuse. "I asked you a question!" she snapped, her voice reverberating throughout the warehouse." Her employees all paused to watch and even Belcam stirred her soup slower.

Anna shrugged while looking around the room. "The people you loaded in that hold."

Flare alternated between a scowl and dumbfounded laugh. "You're joking," she said. "This is a joke. The kind you don't crack when we still don't know each other that well." Anna's unwavering stare had Flare stomping over. "You stupid piece of drugged up trash," she scorned. "Do you have any idea how many credits you just cost me?"

"Maybe it was an accident," Tizu placated. "Maybe the prisoners had a binder malfunction and snuck out."

"Banthashit," Flare snapped. "No one gets off easy in this business." She brought herself face to face with Anna. Each hateful word was so heavy, that several droplets of spit struck Anna's face. "You think you're tough, but you don't know shit. I do though...When I watched Republic troops shoot my mother in cold blood...I had to take over the family business. And I've kept us afloat for years with actual honor, strength, and sacrifice. Things a lowlife druggie like you could never understand. But there's a place for people like you. And it-"

The ensuing, sharp hiss was unlike anything anyone in that room had ever heard. Some of the most hardened criminals in the Outer Rim had heard blastershots, endured thermal detonators, and witnessed electrocutions. But nothing could prepare them for the sight of a pure, green, plasma blade. And as silence fell upon the room, all eyes were on Anna as she drove her lightsaber through Flare's chest.

Trivia:

1. Anna's drug addiction was first foreshadowed in Season 1 Chapter: 2 "The Bug" during the following exchange.

Mattias stretched an empty palm to Grik's body. Anna watched as her master used the Force to manipulate the body's jacket. Pockets flapped open, zippers came undone, and an array of random articles floated before the Jedi. "See what you can find," Mattias ordered.

"Well there's something police droids can't do," Souz quipped.

"This is nothing," Mattias admitted. "Had we brought a Jedi blessed with the gift of psychometry, they could sense entire events just by touching an object."

"Yeah okay," Anna scoffed. "My fingers and eyes work just fine, thank you." She sifted through the hovering objects, most of which consisted of useless trash. A pair of scarlet cylinders fell into Anna's palms and she cautiously examined them. "What do have we here?"

Mattias quickly snatched the findings from her hand and tossed them to Souz. "Nothing good," he said.

"Death sticks," the officer said with great disgust. "Nasty things. Highly addictive and just as deadly."

- Anna's future drug addiction is also continuously foreshadowed throughout the earlier seasons as Hans peer pressures her into trying substances.

2. Flare first appeared in Season 2 Chapter: 32 "Extraction"

She is the child of slave trader named Metora, who is shot by the Republic's Delta Squad after reaching for a weapon. Ironically, Flare's mother has Anna imprisoned in her compound. Fast forward to Chapter 134, and a grownup Flare now has Anna as an employee. Whether physically or metaphorically, both have intentions to use Anna as a slave.

3. Hondo Ohnaka made his fanfic appearance in Season 1 Chapter: 7 "Either Madness or Brilliance"

While Hondo might've seen Anna during his fight with Jack Convore, he no longer recognizes her in the current chapter. This is a double meaning, as Anna has lost complete sight of who she is as a person and a Jedi.

4. Namaari made her fanfic debut in Season 3 Chapter: 73 "Mysteries of the Heart Part:2"

At the end of the chapter, her mother Virana speaks with Lord Sidious about creating a 'Jedi killer.' As of this chapter, we now understand that she was being trained for the Inquisitorius program.

5. Gav Riden first appeared in Season 1 Chapter: 8 "Lord of the Wings"

The Avinarian Padawan was paired with Elsa to try and keep his homeworld of Avinaria from seceding from the Republic.

6. Ironically, the ravine where Anna and Hondo do business is the same sight where Blazer and Sparx were evacuated from Felucia in Season 2.

The remnants of their first unit are seen. So when Anna sees a vision of Blazer in the helmet, there is a direct connection beyond her trauma. She still has slivers of memory-based Force connection trying to reach through her drug addiction. And while Anna wasn't present on Felucia, Mattias was. Do with that information what you will.

7. Miss Bellcam, the soup loving frog...is an anagram of the name Cambells.

Her species is also still unnamed, simply called "Frog People." More popularly known as "Frog Lady" as of the first appearance in The Mandalorian - Chapter 10 "The Passenger."

8. Hans' Damnation and Hellish Imagery

From the moment Hans defeats Master Gaston in Season 4, he is doomed. Throughout the first four seasons of "The Frozen Force" Hans' morality tips between light and dark. But like anyone, he is given multiple opportunities to make the right choice. However, Hans is a sociopath and fails at every chance to save him from damnation. Anna tried to show him affection in the earlier seasons, but he never took her seriously. Celenia truly loved him and was willing to run away with him, but he murdered her. Rapunzel started to bring out the best in him, and he betrayed her. Hans' cycle of abuse goes back to never having a validating parental figure in his life. His father abandoned him and Gaston was a terrible master. Both of which would end up being killed by Hans. Before dying in Season 4, Gaston eerily says "See you in hell." This is as metaphorical as it is physical. Gaston is as damned as Hans is, as their final fight takes place in a circle of flames. And there's a brief moment where Hans is just standing there in fire, his fate sealed. In the finale of Season 4, Hans falls to his 'death' and disappears in fire. As if he is quite literally going to hell. From this moment forward, he will never be the same. The next time we see Hans in Season 5 - Chapter 122, he arrives at a burning village. As an Inquisitor, he emerges from the flames as an agent of evil. Even as we learn his backstory to becoming like this in Chapter 123, his clothing is burned and he is placed in a blood red holding cell. To pain him further, the same room where he was tortured ultimately becomes his living space, forever bathed in that red glow. Through his actions and refusal to redeem, Hans is living in a hell of his own making.

Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading this week's chapter of "The Frozen Force." I'll see you next time for Chapter: 135 - Raise Your Wings (Part: 1).

Long Live Imagination and May the Force be with You,

~ Sparks