Sandra sits by herself atop her apartment complex. It is quiet up there as most noise does not really reach so high. She looks at her shaking hands. It is the first time in a bit she had a time to think deeply on this. The massacre of so many. The ocean of pirates who came in to kill them all. Her blaster fire raining into enemies as they came.
“I killed so many. Is this what it is like? To take so many lives? Is this what it feels to have to fight for one’s life so intently against so many? is what war was like, but for weeks? Months?”
The scream of a pirate as she is charged at is heard. To slow to draw her saber…Karr dashes by to slice him down and move on. The scream of people as they clashed sabers and weapons with the wave of pirates. Blood runs down their outfits. Makes the floor red with the passion of combat. Shade splits a series of enemies in parts and dashes off. Althea holds off several enemies at once as she buries her saber in one misguided foe, then another, and another.
“Is this what they warned me of…? To not rush of to this? To maintain peace and thoughtful decision making before turning on my lightsaber? Or pulling out my blaster? I am…terrified.”
The looks on the faces of the republic soldiers as they die and fight valiantly against the pirates burns in her mind. The feeling of a metal rod slamming into her and knocking her out was intense. She wakes up in the muck, covered in blood, the scent of O-zone, and burning is all over. Her blurry vision makes out the familiar republic soldiers and pirates still fighting. Andro comes to help her up and they fight together to bring down more soldiers. The battle comes to a near close as hounds charge in
“What am I suppose to be…? I…I cannot be this killing machine. I do not wish to be just…a tool of destruction. When Althea said in response to Seela’s comment, ‘Nothing will stop a Lightsaber to the heart’, is when I knew she was unwell also. That I could not seek her for any moral advice again. I cannot be like they are, can I? I do not wish to be a pure killer!!! I…I want to be what Verrac suggested I be, or what my master wanted me to be! W-Why do I kill so much? Is self-defense a fair reason? Is it? W-What to I do? Why can I not wash the blood out of my robes…?”
Sandra buries her face into her knees and cries aloud…by herself, on the top of the lonely rooftop