CLICK TO RETURN TO KISS MY BUNS
Anyone who can be proved to be a seditious person is an outlaw before God and the emperor; and whoever is the first to put him to death does right and well.
Therefore let everyone who can, smite, slay and stab, secretly or openly, remembering that nothing can be more poisonous, hurtful, or devilish than a rebel.
- Martin Luther
I never thought about showing it to anyone, but two years ago I started to paste them together into a complete story. I also edited a lot of the details (was personal and not postable), so most everything that happens in the story now is symbolic of real (in game) events, not the events themselves.
Also much is taken from conversations with people I have been close to, and some of the things I have learned from them and this experience.
I have changed most everyone's name, except for the obvious few that were impossible to change without the story losing some of its meaning.
Haleigh knew the answer before she spoke it, an offer to join any local militia group was not taken lightly in the outback of Dantooine. She felt a cold chill creep over her as if she were attending her own funeral. It wasn't the surly nature of the rabble she was surrounded by, she was accustomed to such, but the irony that in leaving civilization to escape her fate, she was now face to face with it. Around the small house hung trophies taken from the corpses of Imperial agents, she at once knew there was no going back.
On her birth, back in the waning days of the Republic, an aging jedi prophet had foretold her death by execution, shouldered with the charge of High Treason. Rather than wait for the council's decision on her fate, her father Jakarta had taken her into hiding in the wilds of Dantooine, where they had led lives marked by drinking and seclusion.
Haleigh learned of her curse while still young, and it drove her into a life of defiance against all authority, and the ruthless slaughter of all who represented it. If she was to be executed by authority, her vengeance would only be served in advance, but unknown to the Empire.
But what was to be a quick ambush of an Imperial scout, while disguised as an imperial courier had turned into a large gunfight, and only the ragtag rebels who now surrounded her prevented her from meeting that destiny.
The obvious leader of the rabble, Quantum leaned against the wall in relaxation, apparently satisfied that this newcomer, "disguised" as an imperial, was no threat to the group, whether she joined or not.
Haleigh looked at the pile of trinkets on the table, no doubt stolen from imperial corpses. She tore her imperial insignia from her stolen uniform and tossed it on the pile, and the no-nonsense soldiers cracked open a keggar, and Haleigh knew she belonged.
The Recruit
The old man had immediately sensed the Force in her, she had been amused by his zealotry to this religion, but in time she too had become a believer. Her friends were amused at the change in her, it was silly to them, the way this hot-tempered young woman had suddenly begun taking herself so seriously. On the surface she was the same, she took her place in the ranks as always, but when she could steal away she would tirelessly labor over her studies, training for her coming knighthood.
The jedi order tolerated her struggle against the Empire, for the sake of the evil they knew presided over it. On moonlit Dantooine nights she would meditate in places where she could feel evil, as if she were drawn to the danger, she heard the Force speaking to her things which she could not yet understand, though deep inside she felt she could never again deny the prophecy which foretold her fate, she struggled to face it. The rain would come, and drip down her glistening skin but she would remain deep in a trance, attuned to evil that seemed to lie in wait for her.
It was on one such night that she first sensed Xkal'et, stalking her from the darkness. He was a patient Sith, and cautious to confront this trainee of the jedi order, sensing that she too was filled with thoughts darker than the Sith Order. Haleigh would never know if he was charged with ending her life, or turning her to the darker order.
Deep in her meditation she struggled with him, his whispers putting evil thoughts in her head, she felt the need for killing, and her body warmed to the slaying of men, an act she had once struggled with.
And in a flash he was upon her, their sabers sparked, then locked in a grip from which there was no way out. The sith have a time honored tradition of eye contact in combat, the seething hatred in their eyes crippling their opponents with fear. But Haleigh found the evil soothing, and her own blue eyes revealed a bitter coldness that seemed like needles in Xkal'et's skin. He was the scholar of evil, but it was a stranger to him in practice.
He released his saber with one hand and gripped her throat, squeezing it shut, but her grip on her saber held firm. Unable to breathe, she glared at him in defiance, their sabers still locked above their heads. Haleigh released her saber and gripped his arm, his grip relaxing and his saber falling behind hers, she felt her body grow cold and numb.
Colder, darker, then a soft drumbeat, coming closer, calling her out.
She had heard his heart beating, slowly, warmly close to hers, she began to realize as if awakening how her conscious self betrayed her. Haleigh felt herself returning his kisses, her body touching his with flashes like fire. He released her and her breath came in hungry gasps as she held him close and seemed to feed from his very soul. She felt the pain of lost innocence and held him in close, her own heart beating like an earthquake in her chest. With all of the courage of a warrior in battle, she enveloped him in her arms, and in her nefarious lust.
A ray peeked over the Dantooine horizon, the grass swaying softly about two sworn enemies. Haleigh looked down into Xkal'et's eyes, her body still rising and falling with each deep breath. For her it was morning, and one unlike any other, though she knew it was only she that had changed, not the Dantooine wilderness. Looking into his eyes she saw where hate had been deeply ingrained there was now confusion, his body, though riddled with scars from their struggle, seemed more real, more alive to her. The inward conflict was gone, she no longer heard his voice in her soul, only his whispers that she could hear him speak.
He finally dropped his eyes from hers, what once revealed her coldness to him, now seemed a glacier of purpose, he felt his skin grow cold at her presence.
She began to kiss him tenderly, her lips seemed to him like sharp icicles, searing his.
He felt a sharp pain, but ignored it, listening to her whisper softly:
And now you are free ...He looked back into her eyes and read the truth, and realized he was dying.
One more kiss, tender and true, as her silhouette faded from his view.
And then nothing.
The
Jedi
Nowhere to sit but by the Master.
"It is decided then", he spoke. At least he was speaking. The eyes of the council were fixed on him, Haleigh could slip in without complaint.
One seat left at the table, the smoke of battle still drifting from her bare shoulders, the blood of a fallen friend still stained her hands. Haleigh walked past the long, pristine robes of the other jedi, her body bruised yet poised, nude save for a rebel medallion hanging from her neck. She had nothing to do with robes, a warrior was excused from such customs out of necessity.
The elder continued, uncharacteristically uneasied by her appearance, and Haleigh sensed the attentions of the council affixed to her. Not the usual haughty arrogance she was used to, but almost shame at being before her.
The elder continued, "We shall address the issue of the war in a month's time, you are all granted leave for now." He was looking at her now, and Haleigh paused, still holding her chair out as if to sit in it.
A heartbeat. Then another. He continued, "Haleigh, I know how you feel about the rebellion, but jedi serve the light and fight against evil. And this war, like the war before it, has become a thing of evil. The jedi will survive here after the war is over like we have so many times of darkness before." She felt her blood turn to ice on her veins, as she slowly stood back up to face him.
"Survived?" Haleigh interjected, her voice paralyzing the room's occupants. It was not her collect voice they usually heard in the secret council, but the voice of a commander in a battlefield, just before the attack is called.
"Is that the purpose of this order? The Empire was created by the jedi, you filled the ranks of the Sith, it was your training that gave them power. You mean to bail out now, your work in the galaxy is finished?" Haleigh felt the smug contempt of her peers, and their joy that the Master could no longer defend her after this outbreak of rage.
The old man put a hand on her shoulder, and began, "We cannot-" He looked into her eyes and saw it then, halted his speech, but it was too late.
A crash of wood splintering, a whirr and two loud cracks of a saber, and the oak table had been thrown aside, its occupants tossed to the ground. In the center where it was, lay the master, his chin raised and glowing from the pink hue of Haleigh's saber, his own saber laying on the ground, rent in two parts.
The jedi councilmen were horrified, many had never seen combat before, much less between their own. The master waved his hand negatively, holding them back, his voice trembling, "Why do you do this?"
Though she whispered, her voice spoke to each of them as if she were speaking into each of their ears. "Master Jedi, do you want to be free?"
The Master looked back at her suddenly calm and smiled, and for the first time Haleigh saw in him his true courage. Haleigh felt sick suddenly, she was not looking at a cowardly man anymore but a pathetic victim of a cowardly philosophy. Her saber went dark in a hum, and she walked out of the door resolutely. Noone tried to stop her.
(3 weeks later, deep in a volcanic cone on Mustafar)
Heat blasted her face as she knelt on the rock, ash swirling about her, magma underneath. 3 days, on the edge, at the mercy of only the Force. Here had been her place of meditation, here she had come to collect her thoughts.
Haleigh unzipped her backpack and for one last time her work lay before her, the notes she had taken in training, her robes, her worn saber, the crystals she had polished ever humming inside the hilt. She felt a tremor in the Force telling her something, but she would never listen again. The jedi had the force as their ally; it would surely keep them safe. Her path was one of danger and sacrifice, cursed from birth, doomed to her execution by the Force itself, her only allies were defiance and courage.
She let its contents fall and watched as they simmered in the lava before dissolving. A feeling of freedom swept over her she had not known in some time, she served no master.
Haleigh threw her old carbine over her shoulder, the metal felt cold on her back and felt reassuring to her.
She was going home.
Deep in a volcanic cone on Mustafar, where none can bear to enter, had the hollow not been forgotten, lies a flat stone overlooking the red glow of magma.
Where once there were the strange etchings of a jedi in deep meditation, the rock has been polished and these words now appear:
The Jedi can not save us, we must save ourselves
Forsaking
It had come mid afternoon across her transponder. She had been ready for vengeance, hate, prepared to deal with any other answer from Genildor. The blinking light had captivated her attention just long enough to read the words. If you need me for anything babe, you'll know where to find me. I'll always be here to help you. But I can't hunt you ever again ...
Haleigh washed her face again, the emptyness consuming her as she suddenly realized the harsh truth about her own heart seeping in. In her childhood she had always wanted to be like the fabled Kruakardia, the mythic warrioress whose lust for her own blood drove men madly to seek and kill her.
"But it was just a ruse!", she thought to herself. "It had to be!". She had only taunted him to hunt her at first to save her weaker friends nearby, who feared his very name. True, she had often fantasized about being hunted, in a childish sort of dream, but this was for real. The times he had left her dying body lying in the desert of Lok, or in a grassy field on Dantooine were all still very real to her.
And now Fishawao had come back, and she had a safe place to go to again. He would be there, he would understand. Her fingers traced the scar on her breast, one of many from her mortal conflict with Genildor. She closed her eyes, as if still feeling the coldness of the bullet still pressed against her heart.
Haleigh remembered the feeling of accomplishment when Genildor had first hunted her. Only the Emperor himself could have dispatched him in her pursuit. Her memory traced to the vows they had shared, swearing to never stop fighting each other, never rest until the other lay dead at their feet. She had always fought him to kill, and never felt anything but a passion to revolt against all he stood for.
Now all that was behind her. For the first time in her life, she was safe. She knew for the first time that Genildor wasn't in the darkness, waiting for her to fall into his snare. The warm Corellian sun was setting, filling the room with a red glow of finality. Haleigh shivered, feeling loneliness of a kind she hadn't ever thought could be. Too late, and in the end, realizing she had always been what she told herself she had only pretended.
Haleigh opened her eyes again and looked back into the mirror, meeting her own eyes, and for the first time she saw the change. The coldness of her gaze laughed back at her triumphantly, gripping her in the icy fingers of truth.
She dimmed the lights, hiding the eyes of Kruakardia from view.
The
Bounty
Haleigh nearly ignored the sound again, the transmissions on her commlink had gone unread for weeks. Her finger curled around the trigger of her carbine, as if it had become a part of her, after five days and nights of sleepless, maddening combat.
Five days and nights, of death and sacrifice, and now she fled the ruins of the Weapons Depot on Talus, along with the remaining rebels, each tasting the bitterness of failure.
Their plan to seize the depot for three days without interruption had been nearly accomplished, not once, but twice, and Haleigh bore the responsibility for the failure, though none would ever speak it, it was her own tactical error that had denied them all their victory.
*beep*
A fire was burning in the camp now, and as her companions looked on, Haleigh pried her trembling hand from her weapon and plugged the jealously blinking commlink into the only working holoprojector amongst them. Surely her own unit, though on leave, had wondered what had become of her.
The final message was delivered by Quantum's glowing figure before the stunned rebel soldiers:
Failure to report for Alliance Reorganization Charter unacceptable.
Commander Comette Terminated Immediately.
Haleigh clutched her breast, unpinning the the symbol of Xen, the only unit she had ever belonged to, from the remnants of what had once been an officer's uniform. Her hand touched the Phoenix above it and for a second, stared into the emptiness of rejection itself.
Incapable of unpinning the red crescent before them, she turned away from the company about her, letting it fall behind her as she ambled into the darkness.
As the glow of the camp grew distant over her shoulder, a familiar voice broke the loneliness of the night air. "You drop something?"
Haleigh recognized the "Grey Jedi", the long-forgotten hero of the lost base of Athena, bearing her rebel insignia.
A thousand words reached her lips but not one came out.
"Just keep doing what it is you do," he said, pinning her rebel symbol on her, his once commanding voice glowing with calm resolution. "Only those few who matter, will remember in the end."
As she approached the camp again, first one, and then another of the war-torn soldiers, some limping, rose to their feet, screaming the Rebel Yell, a savage battle cry never heard in peaceful times, one she herself had raised in so many desperate fights. She wiped her face and her voice together with theirs became as one.
Dismissal
The sand splashing at her door, Haleigh felt peace of a kind she had long ago forgotten. The path of a rebel is to be outcast, marked for extinction, and devoid of trust in any stranger. But to those who choose the path, the warmth of freedom, and trust earned among others who fight to protect it are more than worth the cost.
The door eased open and Fishawao stumbled in, wounded as he so often had been, but strong like those without scars can rarely become. Haleigh drew her sword and slowly cut his armor from his wounded body, enjoying his subdued grimaces as he pretended to feel the pain, and not fear the blade.
She dabbed his wounds lightly, as she teased, "I thought you might not make it back alive."
Knowing better than to believe her, Fishawao hid a smirk as he played along. "I almost didn't, you know. The pirates on this planet, can't tell what side they are on until they knife you."
Fishawao caught his breath, interrupted as the cold sponge against his skin gave way to the soft kisses and warm body of the Field Commander, her eyes flashing defiance as if driven by the storm outside.
The storm slowly abated, and the Lokian sun hung like an hourglass looming in the sky painted Imperial grey.
The defeat certain to come tomorrow would never overshadow the victory of today.
The
Oasis
It had come about so quickly, there was not time to consider the final outcome. An intercepted Imperial message, and Haleigh's detachment knew that there would be no space support for the Empire on Dantooine, the bulk of the fleet had been deployed elsewhere.
The rebels had looked over the imperial dossier, as its bearer looked on, the last survivor of an elite team of rebel spies, known to all in the room.
Each of them had known, that they could not call themselves rebels if they did not take this chance.
The fight for Dantooine had been short and a complete surprise, the imperial governance board had been in session, when Haleigh's team had stormed into the Imperial Outpost, and killed them all, still unarmed, without hesitation. Haleigh wore the rank sash of the governor tied around her thigh, where it could drag behind her when she ran towards the enemy.
Three weeks, imperial landings, reinforcements not expected, and still defiant, the rebels determined to bring about their fate together, beating back wave after wave of Imperials. All communication had been severed, her comm-link occasionally flickered, then went fuzzy again, the soldiers nearby trying to pretend they hadn't noticed.
Outside, saboteurs helped to delay the inevitable, final battle, the imperials surrounding and sealing off the outpost, the defenders inside impatiently sniping at them by day and night.
Haleigh pointed her acoustic telescope at the commanding officer of the stormtroopers, easily identified by the satellite comlink in his helmet, and she heard a repeating message, like a broken record.
"SK-87 in position. Awaiting orders for final assault."
then a silence, followed by another:
"SK-87 in position. Awaiting orders for final assault."
Her moment of calling was upon her. This was her stand, the jedi's prophetic curse that hung over her was to be lifted. She gathered her courage, she would reach that commanding officer, or die trying.
She swung herself to the roof of the starport and Jeru, sensing her purpose, tossed her carbine to her, she snatched it out of the air and dove over the walls of the fortified outpost. She heard the blasts of rebel sniper fire behind her, and felt the heat of the lasers pass her body as she scrambled for her mark. The stormtroopers stood in neat rows, not returning fire, perhaps they had mistaken her for a deserter. Her feet dug into the ground as she made her way into the tall grass, running and strafing as she had learned to do to avoid incoming shots.
Her pulse quickened as she came into range, she knelt, raised her carbine and pointed it into the eyes of her target. Her entire body fixated on her mission, for a moment she knew her mission was complete, but still no response from the stormtroopers.
Another moment. Still no response. She stood up and walked toward the neat white line of troopers, her finger ready to fire if one moved.
"SK-87 in position. Awaiting orders for final assault."
She heard the message again, this time with her ears. She walked up to the commander and pressed her Officer's pistol into his forehead.
"SK-87 in position. Awaiting orders for final assault."
Her comlink blinked, and then came to life.
A message flashed across the screen: Empire defeated at Endor, Emperor slain.
"SK-87 in position. Awaiting orders for final assault."
An order that would never come.
Haleigh dropped to her knees and wept, as the cheers of her friends erupted behind her. Inside she felt relief for them, they had found their calling, and had overcome their curse. And she was yet bearing hers.
Last
Stand
The surreal nature of the spectacle was only broken by the sharpness in the Colonel's voice.
"The jedi order?" Haleigh looked over this stranger she had never before met. "We fought this war, to fix the mess they left us with. Who are you to tell us who administrates this planet?", she demanded.
The long-robed representative of the New Republic looked over the scarcely clothed local girl, with an imperial cloth tied about her leg. He hesitated to answer her, but something about her hand stroking her Officer's pistol told him he should.
"Now, Miss Comette, .." he began.
"Field Commander Comette, please." she interrupted.
"Yes ... well the entire Galaxy is in a state of celebration," he continued. "This is a time for us all to pull together, for the good of the New Republic."
Fishawao saw it coming, too late. A swift backhand, and the pristine robes of the ambassador were lying on the ground, with the ambassador still in them.
"So pull yourself together, then." Haleigh sneered at the flashy display of arrogance sprawled on the floor as her friends helped him to his feet.
The ambassador looked to the other rebels for help, but they were gripping their own sidearms, looking to Haleigh for the green light to execute this bastage, who had presumed to command them.
The old man had passed with age, and the new Master of the jedi council looked smugly at the bellicose rabble, his contempt for them clear on his face.
He began, "Of course there will be doubt, but we can all be glad the war is over, and get back to being a civilized people".
The rebel soldiers caught their breath.
It was an imperial maxim.
A shot, from an overzealous rebel cadet, flashed up to the Master, his saber coming out and deflecting it with a hum and a crack.
3 seconds of silence, and his quick counterattack left the rebel on his back, his severed hand beside him.
Like a nest of angry bees, the rebels moved with one body, as they had so often against the Empire.
Some of the jedi ran into the wilderness, some stood confused, and some ran to the aid of the master. This was to be a celebration, not a bloodbath! The Master Jedi fought his way to the rebel commanders, and stood facing Haleigh, saber raised.
Haleigh braced her carbine against her bare thigh, licking her lips hungrily in the fashion of the Sith, to taunt him closer. "You miss me that much?" her voice seemed to cut through him, her eyes the frozen hue of a glacier.
His lunge forward was short, the blast of an aptly placed mine throwing him into the air. Then on his back, and the former jedi standout was upon him, a dagger pressed against his throat.
As if Time were frozen, the howling Dantooine wind seemed to halt, as the soldiers heard the voice of the commander.
And now you are free ...Haleigh touched his eyelids, and closed his eyes ... forever.
The
Betrayal
Her people free ... and designated an "outland" would not be subject to the will of a distant assembly on Corsucant.
Deep in her heart, she knew she had the better deal, the New Republic had been granted that which was already certain, to appease the jedi, and the corsucant elites, who were outraged over the slaying of one of their own.
The door opened and she marched up the ramp, the execution chamber looming at the top.
Resolution flashing in her eyes, Haleigh stepped in, her destiny now her calling, giving one last Rebel Yell as she felt the warmth of victory envelop her.
Whether by will or by struggle, freedom was hers.