Read Star Wars - First Blood Online
Authors: Christie Golden
Star Wars - First Blood (2 page)
The human girl was barefoot, wearing only a single garment that covered her from shoulder to knees. It was stained, tattered, and oft-mended. Pale flesh showed old and new scars. A fresh gash on her head suggested that she had been injured in the crash.
That’s why her Force presence felt so faint to me,
Vestara realized. The girl had been unconscious, and Vestara, like the other Sith, had focused on the fear of the known prey.
“Please don’t hurt me!” The voice was young and frightened. The girl flung up her hands in a pleading gesture, her face - too old and haggard-looking for the age Vestara suspected she was - filled with fear. “I don’t care about the cargo! You can have it!”
Intrigued, Vestara lowered her weapon slightly, happy to seize another chance to learn something about this vast galaxy that her people would soon conquer. “You are not a member of the crew. Are you a stowaway?”
The girl hesitated, and Vestara lifted her lightsaber. The other girl shrank back. “The pilots were helping me escape from B’nish. I am- I was- a slave. Are you bounty hunters? Pirates?”
Were they pirates? As good a name as any. “Pirates,” Vestara confirmed. “We wanted the cargo.”
“The others-”
“Are dead, or will be soon.”
She swallowed. “I have nothing you could want,” she said. “Take the cargo. Leave me here. No one will find me.”
“It... doesn’t work that way,” Vestara said quietly.
“Please... the others won’t even know. I wasn’t on any crew roster. Just let me go, say you never saw me. I just... I just want to be... to live as a free being. I’ve never known that. No one will know!”
No one would. No one except Vestara. No one except Ship, whom she could feel in her mind, quietly observing her behavior. This girl, slave or no, harmless or no, was not Sith. And therefore she had to die.
“I can make it quick and painless,” Vestara said, wondering why she said the words even as they came unbidden. Why should she care what pain she caused. “Kneel down, I will-”
The girl’s blue eyes, hopeful a moment ago, now went hard even as tears sprang to them. “No,” she said, her voice firm and surprisingly strong. “No more kneeling. No more obeying. You are not my master. No one is. I
will
die free!”
And quick as a sorumi doe, she took off running. Vestara was just as fast. Her parang was in her hands in an instant. She gathered the Force to guide her aim, then let fly.
* * *
The glass weapon could not know pity. It went through her with the same ruthless efficiency as it had once sliced through tangled undergrowth. The impact of the blow knocked the girl off-balance in mid-stride.
* * *
Red
, the world was
red
, hot and vital and piercing. Vestara swayed for a moment. No one had warned her... she hadn’t expected... quite so
much
...
* * *
She had died resisting death, embracing life with a fierce passion that Vestara had never before encountered, and the sensation in the Force as that life was ripped away stopped Vestara’s breath as her heart slammed against her chest. She felt her own knees buckle and her world swirl around her. For a merciful instant, the grayness dimmed the urgent violence of the
red
, long enough for the Sith apprentice to gather herself and remember the power of her will.
Only the Sith were to survive. This girl would never have been one. Vestara had done exactly as she should have.
So why do you still tremble, apprentice?
I- I don’t know,
Vestara thought, not bothering to wrap a lie around herself. Ship knew how to see through those. She was still recovering from the feel of the wounded Force, from the sight of so much... too much... red. She walked up on uncertain legs to stand over the body, and wondered what the girl’s name had been.
Name her yourself,
Ship said.
Vestara swallowed, then reached out in the Force to calm her own beating heart. She took a deep breath of the copper stench of fresh blood.
I will name her First,
Vestara decided, letting cold dispassion settle upon her.
For she will be the first of many.
And she was.
That’s why her Force presence felt so faint to me,
Vestara realized. The girl had been unconscious, and Vestara, like the other Sith, had focused on the fear of the known prey.
“Please don’t hurt me!” The voice was young and frightened. The girl flung up her hands in a pleading gesture, her face - too old and haggard-looking for the age Vestara suspected she was - filled with fear. “I don’t care about the cargo! You can have it!”
Intrigued, Vestara lowered her weapon slightly, happy to seize another chance to learn something about this vast galaxy that her people would soon conquer. “You are not a member of the crew. Are you a stowaway?”
The girl hesitated, and Vestara lifted her lightsaber. The other girl shrank back. “The pilots were helping me escape from B’nish. I am- I was- a slave. Are you bounty hunters? Pirates?”
Were they pirates? As good a name as any. “Pirates,” Vestara confirmed. “We wanted the cargo.”
“The others-”
“Are dead, or will be soon.”
She swallowed. “I have nothing you could want,” she said. “Take the cargo. Leave me here. No one will find me.”
“It... doesn’t work that way,” Vestara said quietly.
“Please... the others won’t even know. I wasn’t on any crew roster. Just let me go, say you never saw me. I just... I just want to be... to live as a free being. I’ve never known that. No one will know!”
No one would. No one except Vestara. No one except Ship, whom she could feel in her mind, quietly observing her behavior. This girl, slave or no, harmless or no, was not Sith. And therefore she had to die.
“I can make it quick and painless,” Vestara said, wondering why she said the words even as they came unbidden. Why should she care what pain she caused. “Kneel down, I will-”
The girl’s blue eyes, hopeful a moment ago, now went hard even as tears sprang to them. “No,” she said, her voice firm and surprisingly strong. “No more kneeling. No more obeying. You are not my master. No one is. I
will
die free!”
And quick as a sorumi doe, she took off running. Vestara was just as fast. Her parang was in her hands in an instant. She gathered the Force to guide her aim, then let fly.
* * *
The glass weapon could not know pity. It went through her with the same ruthless efficiency as it had once sliced through tangled undergrowth. The impact of the blow knocked the girl off-balance in mid-stride.
* * *
Red
, the world was
red
, hot and vital and piercing. Vestara swayed for a moment. No one had warned her... she hadn’t expected... quite so
much
...
* * *
She had died resisting death, embracing life with a fierce passion that Vestara had never before encountered, and the sensation in the Force as that life was ripped away stopped Vestara’s breath as her heart slammed against her chest. She felt her own knees buckle and her world swirl around her. For a merciful instant, the grayness dimmed the urgent violence of the
red
, long enough for the Sith apprentice to gather herself and remember the power of her will.
Only the Sith were to survive. This girl would never have been one. Vestara had done exactly as she should have.
So why do you still tremble, apprentice?
I- I don’t know,
Vestara thought, not bothering to wrap a lie around herself. Ship knew how to see through those. She was still recovering from the feel of the wounded Force, from the sight of so much... too much... red. She walked up on uncertain legs to stand over the body, and wondered what the girl’s name had been.
Name her yourself,
Ship said.
Vestara swallowed, then reached out in the Force to calm her own beating heart. She took a deep breath of the copper stench of fresh blood.
I will name her First,
Vestara decided, letting cold dispassion settle upon her.
For she will be the first of many.
And she was.
From Star Wars Insider 125 (05-06-2011)
11.6.18.15.14.5-1
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