Thread: Star Wars: A New Dawn (TheCorsair, Xanaphia)

He knew it wasn't her, even as he said the name. Kaydia was dead, had been dead for two decades. Dead at the lightsaber of the mysterious traitor Jedi he knew only by the name of Darth Vader. She couldn't be Kaydia, even if the reports had been false. She was too young, for one thing. Too young, and subtly different in appearance. How do you know that name? She demanded, igniting a crimson-bladed lightsaber. Did you know my mother? The statement was a punch to the gut. Her mother. Mara? he gasped, as realization crashed in on him. Tyrannous had lied. Kenobi had lied. The daughter he'd thought dead... lived. I... I knew your mother, he managed. Now wasn't the time to try and tell her. Not with a crimson lightsaber between them. A... long time ago. You... you favor her. There was a clicking sound, off to his left. He glanced, to discover that the astromech droid had opened several concealed compartments to reveal an assortment of weapons. Pardon me, Master Quentin, Triple-Zero . Master Bail had certain behavioral inhibitors built into the both of us, infuriating things really. May we have your permission to dispose of this intruder? No! Quentin barked, ore vehemently than he'd intended. Drawing a deep breath, he deactivated his lightsaber. It felt alien to lower his defenses before an adversary, but he even if she wasn't his daughter he doubted he could defend himself from her. Not the way he'd been crippled, and not with the power he could dimly feel radiating from her. Cold, dark power that tore at his heart. No. I suspect that you'd be no match for her. With a sigh, he took his seat once more. So, he said, kicking the other chair across the room to his guest. I assume you're looking for your missing Inquisitor? You'll find his lightsaber in that chest over there. A ridiculous, unwieldy sort of thing. He shrugged. I kept it for the parts, mostly. Leaning back, he studied his lost daughter with eyes of pitted steel. So, what happens now? Do you simply kill me? Or do you drag me back to Palpatine as a prize for your Sith master? Tell me what happened here, Luke said, staring at the ungainly vehicle that loomed over him and his men. Some sort of firefight, sir, Captain Helm replied as he strode down the ramp. It started in the cargo hold. What sort of cargo? Luke asked. Droids and machinery. Junk, really, Captain Helm answered. We've got the bodies of these... Jawas? I think that's what they're called. Jawas. We've got Jawa corpses littering the inside. Blaster fire, mostly. Some electrocutions, and at least one seems to have been... dissected. Disceted? Luke frowned at that. I can't think of another way to describe it, sir. There was disgust in the officer's voice, audible even through the mask. Cut to pieces, mostly while it was still alive. Any ideas what did it? The officer shrugged. Something with a knife and an enthusiasm for vivisection. Right. Check to see if there's any surveilance information from this hulk. I want to know for sure if those droids were here, and if they were then I want to know what took them. He barely registered Captain Helm's salute as he reached out through the Force, touching his sister's mind. sensory impressions came first, and he shivered a little in pleasure at the feel of cloth sliding over skin. He shoved the feeling away. I've got a bunch of dead junk dealers out on the borders of the Jundland Wastes, he told her, letting her perceive the sandcrawler through his eyes. And our uncle - did I tell you I met a relative, by the way? - said he saw these junk dealers picking up a couple of droids that might match the ones we're looking for. He stared at the blaster-burnt corpse on the sand before him. But I seem to have hit a dead end. You?