Okay so this is technically fan fiction but I didn't really feel right putting up on . Mainly because it's just a one-shot about my own character and the only 'fan fiction' quality is that it is set in the Star Wars universe. Or galaxy. *heh*

Set in the Old Republic. This is a (kinda) prelude for my main character on Star Wars: the Old Republic.

AND I am aware that the Inquisitor won't get duel Lightsabers. This was written before that. Maybe I'll change it, if so demanded. But for now, either accept or ignore.


A large man walked down the gravely path, a well-built boy running behind him, master and apprentice. They walked through fields, various lands, collecting tithe from the owners on behalf of the Sith. The two force-users walked to their next destination, a small house on the edge of a large farming property. As the elder of the two approached the door, the younger began to whine.

"I'm bored! This is boring. We should be out in a battle somewhere, cutting up Jedi!" He punctuates this by mimicking moves with the hilt of his 'saber and making sound effects.

"If you were sent out now it would be because they wanted you dead. Now put that away."


The younger clicks the hilt to his belt and follows again. His master reaches the door, so he stands back and looks at the field to their left. As his master talks to the owner and collects the tithe, he spots a slave cutting some sort of stalk with a scythe. They stand straight, wipe their brow and stare at the sky for a moment before returning to work.
Deciding that this may be a bit of fun, the apprentice channels the Force into making a clump out of some near by mud. He hovers it in the air for a moment before flicking his hand and sending it flying straight for the side of the slave's head. He smiles as it comes closer and closer to colliding but at the last possible moment, the slave twirls and deflects it with the scythe. They look in his direction and frowns, returning to work. The slave's actions seem a tad more efficient. Another 'hmph' comes from the boy as his master turns to him.

"What is it this time?"

"Nothing." is the mumbled reply.

"What is it." The voice has little patience.

"I threw some mud at that slave, but they hit it away."

He raises his eyebrow at his trainee, taking a moment to observe said slave.

"It's back is towards you."

"I know! It's so unfair."

The apprentice sulks while the more experienced master schemes.

"Do it again."

The apprentice looks at him questioningly, but he doesn't hesitate to obey. Hesitation was long ago beat out of him. He hovers another clump and flicks it at the slave. Once again, the clump is deflected.

"See? So unfair."

"And again."

The boy does this a few more times. Each time, the slave looks at them, frowns and returns to work. Each time, the work is more vigorous than before - and more efficient. Eventually, the slave stops working and walks towards them. As the slave draws nearer they realise it is a she. As she approaches, she crouches down to swipe her hand in mud and proceeds to wipe it on one side of her face, even going so far as to muse it into her hair. She has almost reached them when she starts to call out for her master. The apprentice is not worried - he is Sith and Sith are untouchable by common folk.
The Sith Master is merely intrigued - why call for her master?
Her master walks out of his house and looks at the situation, but the girl doesn't give him much time.

"Master, these two have been flinging dirt at me as I tried to work. It is very distracting and is making my work rather inefficient."

The slave-owner considers this and turns to the two Sith. In as non-threatening voice as the creature can muster, he says;

"Really, that is un-unacceptable. It is because of the work these slaves do that I am able to pay any tithe at all. I- I will h-have to ask-"

But the Sith Master hasn't taken his eyes off the girl and it is here that he interrupts with;

"I'll pay 500 credits for the human girl."

The slave-master is startled, but quickly recovers. He opens his mouth to accept but the girl butts in before he has a chance. With one of her feet now at an odd angle she stage whispers to him;

"That is a good deal, master. It's half of what it would've cost to get my leg fixed."

He looks at her with disgust and glances down at her foot.

"Stand properly, girl!" He hisses, pushing down on her shoulder.

She hisses in pain and begs for him to stop. He does but now looks regretfully at the Sith.

"200, for the slave."

"She doesn't have a bad leg, honest! She's just playing up and making me-!" He raises a fist to the girl but before he connects the Sith repeats his offer in a tone of finality.

The slave-master looks at him and nods. The credits are paid and he returns inside. The girl, now standing properly, cautiously surveys who appears to be her new masters.

"I see you are standing properly now." comments the Sith Master.

The slave just smiles. The Sith turn and the master beckons the girl to follow. The apprentice glances at his master.

"Is she...?"

"Yes, she is. And that means she is far more valuable than anything you could find in a tomb." Looking upon his apprentice "Which means you will be richly rewarded."

Both apprentice and master wear their own smiles on their faces, one of greed and one of vanity, as the confused slave walks behind them in silence.

The apprentice stands with one of the Masters on a high ledge. They ask him who he wishes to pick. With a sinister smile he points towards a cruelly laughing Chiss and says;

"That one."

She does not know how long she has been here, in this room with no exit. There is a female in here with her, but she leaves through some way that can't be mimicked. The Chiss tortures her, day-in and day-out, alternating between Lightning and Lightsaber, each blow more painful than the last.

At first, she tried to persuade the Chiss, beckoned her with strength, with teachings, with ways to overthrow whoever was in control. But the Chiss got instruction through a small earpiece that she could never manage to rip out and so the Chiss kept torturing her.

She tried to seduce the Chiss, once.
The Chiss laughed and said that even if she liked aliens she hardly liked what she had.

Volley after volley of lightning, strike after strike of the hottest thing she had ever felt. Then one day the Chiss' continuous laughter got right into her brain and something snapped.
With a roar of rage she grabbed the Chiss' ankles and felt power surge from her hands up the others legs. Purple and white danced in front of her eyes. She tossed her captor to the side and flung her hands out to release the power inside her. More purple and white, crackling in front of her as her captor screamed from the volts dancing through her.
Glancing to her side she saw the dropped Lightsaber. Dashing over to it she picked it up and pressed a promising looking button. One end flared to life in a bright crimson, painful to look at. She advanced on the Chiss, shocking her for the last time, and swung the Lightsaber across her face.

There was a sizzling sound for a moment, before the top-half for the Chiss' head was pulled away to rest on the ground. Loudly panting, she stood over the corpse, staring. A sound from behind caused her to turn and raise the laser weapon.

A boy - the boy - casually leaned against the doorway, a smug smile on his features.


He sauntered over towards her.

"Put a tamper on that lightning for a moment, would ya? I don't want to be zapped when I shake your hand."

He puts his hand forward and she just stares at it as if she doesn't know what to do. She looks back up at his face and asks;

"What is this?" Her voice comes out hoarse, a combination of bad air and continuously screaming.

"What? This?" He motions to the corpse, "A test. And you passed. Congratulations, you're a Sith acolyte."

He puts his hand forward again and this time she shakes it. They both have a tight grip, both trying to show dominance but neither succeeds. He tugs at her hand before detaching himself.

"Come on."

And he quickly walks away down a long, long tunnel. Still holding the Lightsaber, she swiftly follows. He cocks his head back towards her.

"You'd better put that 'saber out."

She holds the weapon up.

"It doesn't look like a saber."

His step falters before he comprehends what she means.

"Not that kind of saber. The Lightsaber."

Suitably impressed she looks down at the hilt and presses a button. A twin crimson blade ignites from the back end, narrowly avoiding her side. She tenses in fright and shock, but relaxes soon after. She instead fiddles with the dial and feels as the blade increases and decreases in heat, depending on which way she twists. Finally feeling the dial 'give' a little she figures out that the dial it self is a button. Pushing it, both blades disappear.

They kneel before a Sith master. She sees the boy rise next to her but wisely stays on her knee. Sure enough, she is soon directly told to rise (but not before words are exchanged over her head). The master looks up and down her, evaluating. He hold out his hand.

"The Lightsaber."

She places the hilt in the hand. The wizened hands examine it, commentary running as he flicks through its features. Eventually, he holds it back out to her.

"You may keep it. Use it until you have your own."

In her hand the Lightsaber carries not only it's own weight, but the weight of the power it comes with.

She has just come from Master Moiss. He has told her that it is time to earn her own Lightsaber. So she follows his instructions and journeys through a tunnel just outside the Valley. There are dead creatures along the way, scorch marks next to them. Sounds of a current battle echo up to her as she reaches further down the tunnel.
She reaches the mouth of a cave. A dead end. In it she sees the boy striking at a huge creature. Striking again and again and again. He doesn't need to glance to know she's there.

"Hey! I could use your zapping right about now!"

Fighting - and loosing if barely - he is still jovial towards her. She positions herself behind it and strikes her hands out, channeling her power through her fingertips. The electricity jumps in jagged lines and sinks into the creature's hide. It rears in pain and it's tail tries to sweep her out of the way. She jumps and it misses and she ignites the long dead Chiss' Lightsaber and runs at the creature.
They fight it, in synchronisation. Each are able to pick up where the other would fail. Eventually, after they are running out of breath, the creature emits one last howl and collapses. They both pant for a moment, before the apprentice climbs up the front of the creature and props open its mouth. He indicates to matching teeth in it's upper jaw.

"These teeth, perfect for a Lightsaber. They usually secrete an acidic poison, and the whole animal is breed on the power of the dark side."

He frowns and for a moment she thinks he will 'hmph' again. Like he used to. He doesn't.

"But I don't know how to get them out. You can't just cut them out, you'll cut the poison tracts and dissolve them."

She walks forward and joins him up in the jaw of the beast.

"My old owner, he had a Kath Hound. We had no tools but it had a rotten tooth and so we just," She reached up and massaged the gums above the tooth "It just..."

The boy copied her actions and soon the teeth just slipped out into their hands. They shared a smile of victory and bumped back down to the floor. She walked over and held her hand out for his tooth.

"So they can dry." Was her only explanation.

But it was all he needed. He handed it over and she put them down on a small rock plateau. Her back still to him she began to talk.

"You're not much of a warrior, are you?"

He bristled at the comment.

"I mean, you've got all the aggression but, you know so much."

He calms and explains.

"I didn't know anyone when I first came, so I spent a lot of time in the archives, reading. I learnt stuff." He shrugs.

She's stuck on his words; I didn't know anyone. She always knew him. Even though he was a rank higher she was always allowed to know him.

"But anger and rage is in my heart. It's what fuels me." He tosses a smile, "It's what will break my chains."

"You broke mine."

He looks at her, confused.

"I was a slave and then your Master bought me. But only because you threw that mud at me." She laughs a strained laugh, "Oh and I got so mad at you that day."

He laughs, trying to make up for her strain with his carelessness.

"What can I say - I was young." His demeanour softens, "We were young."

She doesn't continue straight away.

"Master Moiss told me to come here. Said they'd be a test that I'd have to kill, lest I return without the task done and be killed myself."

He laughs it off.

"I guess we got sent on the same quest then. And hey," He motions the beast, "We did it. It's dead."

"The Master was more specific than that."

The silence is heavy with knowledge.

"I knew they'd do this. I knew it." He says it more to himself than to her.

She turns and faces him. He looks up at her face. It looks smooth and certain, but he remembers the hard lines she had when she worked under the sun. And he sees her storm of emotions, escalating this situation into an ordeal. He bargains with her.

"Don't. Don't do it. We can return and say we were too evenly matched. Or we can return and say we refuse. Or- or- ! We could return and slay Moiss! Then they'd be no dispute that we both belonged there."

She doesn't move towards any notion and he lowers himself to begging.

"Or let me go. Give me a head start and forget to chase me. I could escape. Let me deal with myself."

He is disgusted at the desperation that she can surely see.


Why is he begging?

"O-okay." He hears her shakily accept.

She walks up to him and, once his brain catches up, he walks up to her too quickly. They stop, close to each other.

"Killing him," She says "It'll work. We'll kill him - together."

"It will work! Oh I know it, I know it!"

They embrace and he his joyous. She says to his ear;

"Do you know what I know? I know I am doing you a favour."

He just smiles and smiles.

"You wouldn't have lasted anyway."

And he knows his features contorts as her lie becomes apparent and her arm, hand, hilt snakes it's way between their chests and the stolen Lightsaber is pressed into the underside of his neck. In one quick movement the blade ignites and the end is visible above his head. She clicks it off again and holds him close.
Dropping him, she holds his body off the floor, using the force to hover his body horizontally at chest height. She holds the body level in front of her for a moment, at two tears escape her ducts. She lets them fall before retrieving the teeth and walking back out the tunnel.

She lowers the body to the dusty ground in front of Master Moiss and he examines it. He notes the wound and comments on the lack of signs of struggle. She tells him there wasn't one, that he was expecting it. The master comments that that would mean he would fight all the harder.

"He trusts me."

Her use of present tense is a slip up and it haunts her for that night but many more nights pass before it frequents her once more.

She sits in her chambers, cross legged, with carefully chosen parts scattered in front of her. A solid, shiny black bar hovers in front of her and splits itself into twin pieces. The insides compress until they hollow themselves out in segments. She closes her eyes as the power increase and so can't see the runic lines strongly etching themselves onto the outsides, short lines all at right angles up and down the bars.
She opens her eyes for a moment, just to spot her next piece. Small holocrons - used and now of no use - hover up and one end of them melts away as they approaches the bar. They glue themselves on, forming the bottom of the hilts. She needs not open her eyes for the next pieces, the teeth pilfered that same day. They lift up and the bars chisel themselves away to make way for the conical ends of the teeth - the two-pronged end that would usually stick out of the creatures mouth pointed out towards the open. The tooth itself hollowed, scrapings falling out to make way for the blades to come.

She sets down the hilts - custom hilts, her hilts - and sets to work on their hearts. Her eyes held tightly shut see concentrates on the furnace, putting her being into the two gems. She stays there for days, going hungry, going thirsty, possibly going mad but these feelings are not new to her and so she sits and concentrates on the crystals she is forming.

After days they are ready and they come flying out. The hilts move up, eager to meet them, and the hilts deconstruct just enough for the crystals to have a way in. The other necessary pieces rush to fill the tubes, lest they be forgotten and at its appointed moment the crystals nestle themselves inside. Finally the Lightsabers are finished and the teeth lock it all together. With one last surge of power the Lightsaber hilts fuse together and she passes out.

She awakes the next day, right where she had collapsed, with food and drink next to her. She ignores the sustenance and moves to hold her Lightsabers. She stands shakily and flicks her wrists.
The blades ignite - one a perfect purple, the other a young yellow. She smiles, both happy and drunk on power, then turns them off and devours the food and drink.

She slips a dark black robe over her head.
She ties her hair behind her head, slipping it around into a ring.
She fastens lucrative looking shoulder pads onto her shoulders.
She can't reach and won't ask for assistance so she uses the Force to tighten the leather corset.
She clips her newly made Lightsabers onto the same garment, steps into boots which she does up tightly and drops the hood over her head.

She walks down a gravelly path, confidence reeking in her step. She reaches a small house and opens the door. The owner comes up to her and, simpering at her attire, he practically throws himself at her and begs for forgiveness, begs for more time.

"I know I am behind on the tithe but please just a few more days. A week at most!"

He changes attitude very quickly and runs a hand around her waist.

"Surely we can come to an... arrangement?"

She manages to give a sultry nod and walks in. He undresses and she keeps most of her clothes on, only lifting her skirt. When they are done he asks -"If you don't mind me asking." - who belonged to the name she kept calling. She replies that it was someone who trusted her.

"And what happened to him?"

"They same thing that's going to happen to you."

And the man stumbles up and away and she stands in one strong motion and demands that he kneel. He obeys without thought and she spits for him to beg. He hesitates but complies, as she used to to him. She circles him and in a low voice demands that he address her properly.

"Please, please Master!" He pleads and pleads.

She throws back her hood and shouts for him to call her by her name. He does not know it and he says so. She Force chokes him so that his feet barely touch the ground and he sputters that slaves didn't have names they just had numbers. She drops him roughly and demands her number. He whimpers and she crouches low and asks in a dangerous voice for her number. He admits to ignorance and she stands back, looking down on him.

"I am so pleased to kill you."

And she makes his body hold as many volts as it can and just before his heart gives out she stops and sinks both her Lightsabers into him. She turns and leaves the house. Walking only a few meters, She looks out to her right and spots a middle aged man toiling in the field.

"Mikalei!" She calls out to him, but it is no command.

Shocked at hearing his name, the man drops his tool. He looks over to her and she motions him over. He walks over and bows.


She smiles kindly.

"Do you not recognise me Mikalei?" Mirth seeps into her face as he studies it.

"M- Mau?"

He touches her face, as if that would confirm. Yet it makes him more sure and so he says her name louder and firmer.


"Yes, Mikalei. The others. Gather them. I will take you back."

"Back where?"

"Our previous master has... been terminated. And since these lands belong to the Sith, I suppose that's where you go."

"Terminated..." The man mutters, "The tithes... He had the money! He had the money you know - but he spent it, bought things and gambled with it."

As the slaves are taken to quarters she reports her findings to the Sith Master.
They smile and increase her rank, now allowing her off-world and to help train apprentices herself.

A Decade Later...

She stands in the middle of the courtyard of a noble she had been negotiating with. On her own, without her Lightsabers and surrounded by guards. She was used to impossible odds by now, but this she knew was to much.
A cry rises up from around her and the common workers - gardeners, groundskeepers – leap up from their stations and other leap from hidden places far from their designated jobs and as one they all rush the guards surrounding her. One of the workers approach her.

"Your Lightsabers?"

And she takes them with a thank you and dives into the battle. With that small edge the workers gave her, the guards are defeated. The battle now over she looks about her. One older man approaches her and her face grows confused.

"And now, it is you who does not recognise I." He says and all at once she knows who he is.

"Mikalei." She breathes his name and he nods the affirmative.

"You released us."

"B-but that was business- he was behind his tithe."

"Yes, but you helped us - saved us. You kept checking in on us when we were held by the Sith. It is thanks to you that we are here and the Lady of the house is really quite kind. The man, whom you dealt with, is a fool but only the Lady deals with us and she is quite kind. We will always help you - anytime."

She steps forward just once.

"But your family was allied with the Republic."

He dips his head.

"I know." And then looking directly at her, "But if there are people like you, well, I hold hope in the Sith."

She inclines her head to him.

"Thank you." She turns to them all. "Thank you all."

And knowing nothing else to do she turns and walks away. But in that first step relief washes over her and she realises - that is all she needs to do.


Thank you to Vanilla Vanish for proofreading this for me - and for putting up with my late-night spelling.