Star wars: chronicles of draven-part 2

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Science Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 2

After just a few days on Tatooine, Padawan Alixa Sull was certain she had hit absolute rock bottom. Mos Eisley was an absolute dump, bits of rusted metal and pools of animal excrement were everywhere, and the people were even worse. So far, she and her master had been shot at five times and she herself had been insulted almost everyday because of her white hair and face paint. It wasn’t her fault that it was a traditional Sarkhai custom. Then there was her colleagues; her direct superior, Twi’lek Master Quet was alright, she supposed, but he was so much in awe of the other Jedi on the planet, Master Voik of the council, that he followed all his commands without question. It made her sick. The sooner she could get away from those two the better.


A voice brought Alixa back to reality. She was leaning against the wall of large Tatooine hangar made san tanned bricks, which rather annoyingly crumbled onto her mud brown robes, while the two masters were preparing for an arms deal. An arms deal funded by Republic credits.


“You are certain that this man can be trusted?” Master Quet asked, his sea blue lekku moving slightly.


“I am.” responded Daario Ptylom, leader of the Galactic Freedom Movement’s Tatooine cell. “I have used Asho many times to supply the movement with blasters and detonators.  Though now we have the Republics backing, we can import heavier fire power.”


The Weequay rebel was practically smothered in a strong incense. A red bandana hid the bare, leathery skin atop his head. At his side he carried a pair of blasters and half a dozen perfectly round thermal detonators clung to his belt. On the glass table before him, Daario was stuffing hundreds of rectangular bars into a roughspun sack. Elsewhere in the hangar, other resistance fighters of various species prepared blaster rifles, moved boxes of supplies and tended the lone Republic shuttle that took up the majority of the space.


“What is it you have asked him to smuggle?”


Daario smiled evilly.


“Twenty tonnes of stolen Imperial military grade explosives.”


“What are you going to use it for?”


Master Voik frowned as he always did when Alixa spoke, the wrinkles on his forehead becoming canyons, but Daario smiled pleasantly.


“After our success with taking out Darth Veeran, Leo thinks we should go bigger and better this time. So we’re going after Vaiken Spacedock, right in the heart of the Empire.” he said. “If everything goes according to plan then we’ll cripple the Empire’s shipbuilding capacity for months.”


“Sounds like a great plan.” lied Alixa. In truth, she just wanted to get it done and dusted. “I hope I can be of some service this time.”


“You should not hope to take part in the destruction we have to cause to achieve victory. Any decent youngling knows that.” Voik said pompously. “Master Quet, have you taught your padawan nothing?”


Despite being scientifically unable to, it appeared as though Quet actually managed to pale.


“Forgive me master.” Alixa managed to get out as she choked down her rage. She hated the old man, with his dull grey eyes and hair and the way he spoke down to everyone. Clearly, no one had taught him humility.


“I sense much anger in you Alixa. Control your emotions before they lead you down the path of the dark side.”


That was the one thing Alixa hated about being a Jedi; the taboo that accompanied feeling. She wanted to be free to express herself through her actions, laugh when she was happy and cry when she was sad. Not become some empty automaton like Voik. Sometimes she wondered if the Sith had the right of it after all, using their emotions to further their power. Then again, the Sith were all blood thirsty psychopaths who massacred innocents just for the hell of it.


“I believe some meditation will calm you.” Quet chipped in.


“I agree. See that you complete several hours worth while Master Quet and I oversee Daario’s exchange.” ordered Voik. He, Quet and Daario then closed around the table and began discussing something in a low voice, a clear sign that they were finished with her.


Silently, she made her way out of the main hangar and up a spiraling sandstone staircase that ended at a small corridor. Two doors of rotting wood barely clung to the crumbling walls. Alixa pushed open the closest one, locking it behind her, and examined the spartan room. The only truly noticeable features was the sleeping mat in one corner, a square window, a wooden table and the mirror that hung just above it. A few pots of white and blue paint were clustered together on the table.


“I hate this place.” Alixa muttered. “I hate it. I HATE IT.”


The last part came out as a scream. Days worth of controlled fury came pouring out of whatever chamber Alixa had managed to store it in. She clenched her fists and her arms began to shake. All she could see was red. Thoughts of murdering everyone she knew, Master Quet, Voik, Daario, the little old lady down the street who offered her sweets every time she walked past, flooded her mind and to her surprise she found that she was actually excited by the prospect of brutal murder. This was what it meant to be free. This was what it meant to be sith.


Alixa never knew how long she stood there. All she knew was that when she had finally calmed down it was dark outside. Tatooine came alive at night. As alive as city full of merciless gangsters could get. Already blaster shots could be heard on the far side of town and a giant fire ball arose from the east, the heat sufficient for Alixa to feel it miles away. The shockwave shook the hangar slightly, knocking the billions of tiny specks of sand off the walls.

But for once, Alixa found herself not caring. The thoughts of all those innocents who may have died amused her instead of invoking horror. She had a new purpose in life and that was to be free from the chains that held her emotions down. Hurriedly she rushed over pulled back the  sleeping mat, to wear a hooded cloak, a sack and a silver hilted lightsaber lay.  She threw the cloak over her body and clipped the lightsaber to her belt. In the sack she stuffed her pots of paint. Once satisfied Alixa climbed into the window frame and dropped into the street below.

Submitted: September 30, 2016

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