Now she’d been reduced to a tired little girl plodding across the war-torn Ruusan landscape. Yet she refused to surrender to despair, instead focusing all her energy on putting one foot in front of the other. It was impossible
to say how long she continued her forced march—how many hours or kilometers she endured—before she was rewarded with what she sought: the sight of a shuttle in the distance.
Hope gave new life to her weary limbs, and she managed a clumsy, limping run toward the vessel. She could see people milling about the craft: a young woman, an older man, and two teenage boys. As she drew nearer the woman noticed her and called out to one of her companions.
“Bordon! Tell the boys we’ve found someone who needs help.”
Minutes later Zannah found herself inside the vessel’s cargo hold, sitting on a supply chest while wolfing down nutrition bars from a ration kit and chasing them with a piping-hot cup of chav. One of the boys had thrown a thick blanket over her shoulders, and the entire crew was now hovering protectively around her.
“I’ve never seen someone so small eat so much,” the woman said with a laugh.
She didn’t look like she’d come from Ruusan originally. She had dark skin and short black hair, and she wore a bulky padded vest under her jacket. There was also a blaster pistol strapped to her hip, making Zannah fairly certain she was a soldier of some type.
“What did you expect, Irtanna?” the older man said. In contrast to the woman, he looked like he was probably a native of Ruusan. He had broad shoulders, leathery skin, and a short brown beard. He reminded Zannah of Root, the cousin who had raised her as a little girl back on her homeworld of Somov Rit. “The poor thing’s nothing but skin and bones. When was the last time you had a decent meal, girl?”
Zannah shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said around a mouthful of food.
She’d only accepted their offer of a meal out of politeness.
Ever since she had arrived on Ruusan she’d been living on roots and berries, her body constantly on the edges of starvation. She’d been doing it for so long that she’d gotten used to the pangs of a perpetually empty stomach, adapting to the point that she was barely aware of her hunger. But the moment that first bite of real food hit her tongue, she remembered her appetite, and now her body was determined to make up for weeks of poor nutrition.
“Where are your parents?” the woman called Irtanna asked.
“They’re dead,” Zannah answered after a moment’s hesitation, setting down what remained of the ration kit. The food was delicious; the simple physical pleasure of eating was a glorious sensation. But she couldn’t allow herself to be distracted by it right now. She had to be very careful with what she told these people.
The man crouched beside her, bringing himself down to her eye level. When he spoke, his voice was soft and sympathetic. “Any other family? Brothers or sisters? Anyone?”
She answered with another shake of her head.
“A war orphan,” Irtanna muttered sadly.
“My name’s Bordon,” the man told her. “This is Irtanna, and these are my sons Tallo and Wend. What’s your name?”
Unwilling to reveal her true name, she hesitated for a second. “I’m … Rain,” she finally offered, giving them her childhood nickname.
“Rain? That’s a funny name. Never heard one like that before,” the older boy, Tallo, said. He looked to be about sixteen.
“There are lots of names you’ve never heard,” Bordon chided his son sharply. Then, in a softer voice, he asked Zannah, “Are you hurt, Rain? Or sick? We have medicine if you need it.”
“I’m okay. I was just hungry is all.”
“Should we take her with us?” Irtanna asked.
Bordon kept his eyes on Zannah as he replied, “Why don’t we ask her. Rain, do you want to come with us?”
“I have to go to Onderon,” Zannah replied without thinking. As soon as the words were out of her mouth she regretted them.
“Onderon? Nothing on that rock but monsters and beast-riders,” Tallo chimed in. “You must be pretty stupid if you want to go there.”
“Hush, boy,” Bordon snapped. “You’ve never been off Ruusan, so how would you know?”
“I heard people talking,” Tallo replied. “Around the camps and stuff.”
“You can’t believe every tale you hear around a campfire,” his father reminded him. “Now take your brother and go wait up in the front of the ship.”
“Come on,” Tallo grumbled, grabbing his younger sibling by the arm.
“That’s not fair!” Wend protested as he was led away. “I didn’t do nothing!”
“Why do you want to go to Onderon?” Irtanna asked once the boys were gone. “It’s a very dangerous world. Not the kind of place for a little girl on her own.”
“I won’t be on my own. I … I have family there,” Zannah lied. “I just need to find them.”
Bordon rubbed his hand over his chin, tugging slightly at his beard. “It might be pretty hard finding them on a place like Onderon,” he said. “Is there someone else we could contact for you? A family friend on Ruusan, maybe?”
“I have to go to Onderon,” Zannah insisted.
“I see,” the man said, then he stood up and turned to Irtanna. “Our young guest seems mighty determined to get off this world.”
“We can’t take you to Onderon,” Irtanna said, “but we can take you with us when we leave Ruusan.”
“Take me where?” Zannah asked, suspicious.
“We’ve got a whole fleet of ships orbiting the planet, Rain. You’ll be safe up there. We’ll find someone to get you cleaned up and look after you.”
“I can look after myself,” she answered defiantly.
“Yes, I can see that,” Bordon interjected. “But I bet it’s lonely being all by yourself.” When Zannah didn’t answer he continued, “Tell you what—it’s getting dark outside. Why don’t we take you with us up to the fleet for now? Then tomorrow we can figure out what to do next.
“If you still want to go to Onderon, we’ll see if we can help. But if you change your mind, maybe you could stay here on Ruusan with me and my boys for a while. At least until we find your family.”
Zannah’s mouth dropped open at his offer.
Bordon reached down and patted her gently on the shoulder. “It’s okay,” he said. “You don’t have to answer right now. Just something to think about.”
Managing a slight nod, Zannah resumed eating her meal, her mind still reeling.
“I’ll go get us ready for takeoff,” Irtanna said as she left, heading up toward the front of the vessel.
Bordon grunted his agreement, then spoke to Zannah once more. “I have to go up front to help Irtanna. You just stay back here and finish eating, okay?”
Zannah nodded again. There was something comforting about the way Bordon spoke to her. He made her feel safe and important at the same time. She watched him disappear through the door separating the supply hold from the cockpit.
“You just holler if you need anything,” Bordon’s voice called back to her.
A minute later the engines roared to life and the shuttle
lifted up into the air, but Zannah barely noticed. Her brain was overwhelmed with conflicting emotions. Part of her was silently screaming that she couldn’t just sit there—she had to do something
now!
She couldn’t let them take her back to the fleet. There were too many people there. Too many Jedi. Someone was bound to notice her special gifts and start asking questions. They’d find out about Darth Bane, and everything he had promised her—all the knowledge and power of the dark side—would be lost.
Yet another part of her
wanted
to go back to the fleet. Bane had warned that her apprenticeship would be a long and difficult struggle. She was tired of struggling. And Bane had abandoned her. Bordon, on the other hand, had offered her his home; he’d offered to let her be part of his family. What would be so wrong about simply accepting his offer? Bane had said she was the chosen heir to the legacy of the ancient Sith, but was that really what she wanted?
Before she could come up with an answer she heard a noise, and looked up to see Wend, the younger of Bordon’s two sons, coming in from the cockpit to talk to her. She guessed he was somewhere around thirteen—only a few years older than she was.
“Papa says you don’t have any family,” he said by way of greeting.
Zannah didn’t know what to say, so she only nodded.
“Did they die in the war?” Wend asked. “Did the Sith kill them?”
She shrugged, unwilling to elaborate in case she inadvertently gave away some detail that would expose her façade.
“My mother was a soldier,” Wend told her. “She was very brave. She went to fight the Sith when they first came to Ruusan.”
“What happened to her?” She only asked the question
because it was expected and it would have seemed odd if she hadn’t. She didn’t want to do anything to draw unwanted attention to herself.
“She died at the Fourth Battle of Ruusan. Killed by the Sith. Papa says—”
“Wend!” came Bordon’s voice from the cockpit. “Get back up here. Let Rain have some peace and quiet.”
The boy gave her a shy smile, then turned and left her alone again with her thoughts. Thanks to his words, however, she’d made her decision.
Bordon had offered to take her in. He’d offered to make her part of his family. He was tempting her with a simple but happy life. But his words offered nothing except empty promises.
Peace is a lie
.
What good were family or friends if you didn’t have the strength to protect them? Bordon had lost his wife, and Tallo and Wend had lost their mother. When the Sith came they’d been powerless to save the one they most loved.
Zannah knew what it was like to feel powerless. She knew what it was like to have the things she valued above all else taken from her. And she had vowed to never let it happen again.
Bordon and his family were victims—slaves bound by the chains of their own weakness. Zannah refused to be a victim any longer. Bane had promised to teach her the ways of the dark side. He would show her how to unleash the power within and free herself from the shackles of the world.
Through power I gain victory. Through victory my chains are broken!
The realization of what she was—the acceptance of her destiny—spurred Zannah into action. She tried to call upon the Force to give her strength, but she was still too exhausted from her previous exertions to use her talents. Undaunted, she began to rummage through the
supply crates in the cargo hold, looking for something she could use to stop the shuttle and her crew from bringing her to the rest of the fleet.
She found what she was looking for just as Tallo entered the hold, catching her red-handed.
“Papa wanted me to see if you—Hey! What do you think you’re doing?”
Zannah wrapped her hand around the grip of the blaster a split second before Tallo crashed into her, tackling her to the ground.
“You kriffing little thief!” the boy swore at her, trying to pin her to the ground and pull the weapon from her hand. He outweighed Zannah by thirty kilos, but she fought with a savage desperation that kept him from getting a firm grip on her as they wrestled on the floor.
Drawn by the sounds of their struggle, Bordon came running into the room.
“What the blazes is going on here!” he shouted.
In that exact instant the blaster discharged. It was impossible to say whose finger had been on the trigger; Tallo and Zannah were each clutching at the pistol with both hands in their efforts to wrest possession of it from the other. But through ill luck or dark fate, when the bolt was fired the barrel of the weapon was pointed squarely at Tallo. The impact left a gaping wound in the center of his chest, killing him instantly.
The young man’s hands went limp and fell away from the blaster. His body toppled forward, pinning Zannah’s legs beneath its weight. Across the room Bordon’s eyes flew wide in horror. With a scream of anguish he lunged forward to help his son.
Seeing the father of the boy she had just killed rushing toward her, Zannah acted on instinct and fired the weapon again. The bolt caught Bordon just above the belt, cutting off his cry and knocking him to his knees. He let out a low grunt of pain as he clutched at the
smoking hole in his gut, then reached a bloody hand out toward Zannah. She cried out in fear and disgust and fired again, ending Bordon’s life.
“Bordon!” Irtanna’s voice came over the shipboard intercom. “I heard blasterfire! What’s happening back there?”
Moving quickly, Zannah squirmed out from under Tallo’s corpse and ran up to the cockpit. She arrived to find Wend still harnassed into his passenger’s seat, trying to turn around to see what was going on. Irtanna was just rising from her chair to go help Bordon. She’d had to engage the autopilot before she could leave her seat, and the delay had given Zannah the precious seconds she’d need to gain the upper hand.
“Sit back down and don’t move!” Zannah shouted, pointing the blaster at Irtanna. Her voice sounded thin and hollow in the tight confines of the cockpit—the voice of a panicky child.
Irtanna hesitated, then obeyed.
“What happened?” the woman asked, her tone carefully neutral. “Is anybody hurt?”
“Plot a course for Onderon,” Zannah ordered, refusing to answer the question. She could barely hear herself speak above the deafening thump of her racing heart.
“Okay,” Irtanna said slowly, reaching up to punch the coordinates into the ship’s command console. “I’ll do what you want. Just stay calm.” The ship’s autonav chimed to acknowledge the new destination, and the woman half turned in her seat so she could look the young girl holding her hostage square in the eye. “Rain, put the blaster down.” There was a cool self-assurance in her words, and a grim determination on her face.
“I’m not Rain,” the girl retorted through clenched teeth. “My name is Zannah!”
“Whoever you are,” Irtanna said, standing up slowly, “you’re going to give me that blaster.”
“Don’t move or I’ll shoot!” Zannah warned, her voice rising shrilly.
How can she be so calm?
she thought, even as she struggled to slow her own breathing down. She was the one with the blaster, but somehow she felt like she was losing control of the situation.
“No,” the young woman replied calmly, taking a single step toward her. “You won’t shoot me. You’re not a killer.”