Birth of the Sith
Prologue
The world of Tatooine was harsh and unforgiving. Its sands buried the brave and foolish alike.
The woman now wandering its desert wastes didnÆt think of herself as either.
She wasnÆt in the desert by choice.
She wasnÆt even on this planet by choice.
If she had a choice, she never would have come to this planet; sheÆd still be onù
A strange feeling came over her as she realized she could no longer remember the name of her home planet. It was almost sadness, but it had been so long that the feeling shifted quickly to anger.
She hated her parents, even though she knew they didnÆt deserve it. She hated that theyÆd decided to take that journey to the Outer Rim and she hated the pirates that had enslaved them. She hated each and every world sheÆd been forced to travel to and she hated each and every one of her masters. She hated those who treated her cruelly, but she hated those who were kind to her even more, for not one of them had ever been so kind as to free her or to at least see to it that she was sold to another ækindÆ owner.
And in that desert, she clung to that angerùshe clung to her spite and anger.
Because she was alone in the galaxy, a slave since she was six, and there was no apparent chance of ever being free. If she escaped this desert, she would only find herself in the hands of a master who thought of her as no more than property.
Anger was the only thing that kept her going anymore.
But anger alone would not be enough.
She knew that.
Maybe a part of her even accepted that.
She hadnÆt been well fed in years. The clothing sheÆd been given by her previous master was not suited to the harshness of a desert. She hadnÆt had any water to drink in more than a day.
She was going to die.
Part of her raged futilely against that knowledgeùthe part that allowed her to keep moving forward.
And part of her didnÆt care. She was tired. She hadnÆt seen her family in decades and the last time she had, theyÆd also been slaves. For all she knew, they were dead. As a slave, she could lay claim to nothingùeverything she had belonged to her masters. She didnÆt believe in anything. SheÆd never had a husband and would never be allowed to choose one of her own will. SheÆd only rarely had friends.
She pushed onwards on anger alone, just as she always had, but there was nothing waiting for her at the end of her journey.
If she died in this desert right now, the only person in the entire universe that would care was her newest masterùbecause of the loss of a slave.
She knew that, of course. SheÆd known since she turned eight and had been first sold from one master to another, leaving her sobbing mother behind.
Anger kept her moving, but she wasnÆt going anywhere.
If she gave up now and died in the sand, it would just mean sheÆd die free, rather than as a slave.
Maybe that was a better death.
Then why did she keep moving?
She had no answer to that question.
She refused to even acknowledge it.
Instead, she buried it deep inside and tried her hardest not to think about it, because if she did, sheÆd realize she had nothing to live for and probably never would, and that would be worse than dying.
But no matter her wishesàsheÆd never really had a choice in her own fate, had she?
Less than two hours later, she fell.
The last thing she saw before she fell unconscious was a pair of dark figures, slowly approaching.
XxXXxX
Prologue
The world of Tatooine was harsh and unforgiving. Its sands buried the brave and foolish alike.
The woman now wandering its desert wastes didnÆt think of herself as either.
She wasnÆt in the desert by choice.
She wasnÆt even on this planet by choice.
If she had a choice, she never would have come to this planet; sheÆd still be onù
A strange feeling came over her as she realized she could no longer remember the name of her home planet. It was almost sadness, but it had been so long that the feeling shifted quickly to anger.
She hated her parents, even though she knew they didnÆt deserve it. She hated that theyÆd decided to take that journey to the Outer Rim and she hated the pirates that had enslaved them. She hated each and every world sheÆd been forced to travel to and she hated each and every one of her masters. She hated those who treated her cruelly, but she hated those who were kind to her even more, for not one of them had ever been so kind as to free her or to at least see to it that she was sold to another ækindÆ owner.
And in that desert, she clung to that angerùshe clung to her spite and anger.
Because she was alone in the galaxy, a slave since she was six, and there was no apparent chance of ever being free. If she escaped this desert, she would only find herself in the hands of a master who thought of her as no more than property.
Anger was the only thing that kept her going anymore.
But anger alone would not be enough.
She knew that.
Maybe a part of her even accepted that.
She hadnÆt been well fed in years. The clothing sheÆd been given by her previous master was not suited to the harshness of a desert. She hadnÆt had any water to drink in more than a day.
She was going to die.
Part of her raged futilely against that knowledgeùthe part that allowed her to keep moving forward.
And part of her didnÆt care. She was tired. She hadnÆt seen her family in decades and the last time she had, theyÆd also been slaves. For all she knew, they were dead. As a slave, she could lay claim to nothingùeverything she had belonged to her masters. She didnÆt believe in anything. SheÆd never had a husband and would never be allowed to choose one of her own will. SheÆd only rarely had friends.
She pushed onwards on anger alone, just as she always had, but there was nothing waiting for her at the end of her journey.
If she died in this desert right now, the only person in the entire universe that would care was her newest masterùbecause of the loss of a slave.
She knew that, of course. SheÆd known since she turned eight and had been first sold from one master to another, leaving her sobbing mother behind.
Anger kept her moving, but she wasnÆt going anywhere.
If she gave up now and died in the sand, it would just mean sheÆd die free, rather than as a slave.
Maybe that was a better death.
Then why did she keep moving?
She had no answer to that question.
She refused to even acknowledge it.
Instead, she buried it deep inside and tried her hardest not to think about it, because if she did, sheÆd realize she had nothing to live for and probably never would, and that would be worse than dying.
But no matter her wishesàsheÆd never really had a choice in her own fate, had she?
Less than two hours later, she fell.
The last thing she saw before she fell unconscious was a pair of dark figures, slowly approaching.
XxXXxX