One couldn’t simply deny the existence of what path she had traversed down, be it the Force or across the stars. The battle for redemption was a road that was filled with many obstacles and emotional struggles that pitted her against her darkest desires. She had grown up to be a young woman of conviction though – despite betraying a promise she had made to her mother when she was just a young girl, however, it took being away from the turmoil of the Galaxy to do so. The harsh sand filled winds swept across the plains of Tash-Taral like a grainy breeze against the sides of her cheeks. A gloved hand held the scarf over her mouth as she trudged haphazardly through the dunes towards a distant object – something that appeared to be a shelter of some kind. Another hand held onto the strap of her satchel tightly, fighting back the chaotic winds that threatened to topple over her small frame and take what she had bartered and traded for.
Things were different.
She had brought about her own exile, atleast from this perspective and left little traces behind for those who sought her. On occasion, she could feel through the dark veil that surrounded the planet, a deep piercing light that touched her mind and then fade. Maybe it was her brother or even her father, but reality was, Aaralyn was searching the stars for her long lost child. Her focus was elsewhere, atleast for the moment. She wouldn’t be distracted by the sheer happenstance that a ripple of light through the Force managed to reach her on this desolate world. Survival was critical and in places like Jaken – one had to know their way around in order to make things go their way. One wrong move and you’d end up some slave – which was pretty much the same as dying. A thing she considered herself lucky – however, the bounty on her head had reached the six figure mark before she left the grid and hoped to keep it that way.
As the winds of the sandstorm continued to blow against her, darkening the skies and blocking the harsh heat of the system’s sun from baking her as she moved towards the metallic structure – she went down memory lane. [member="Darth Vornskr"] had once driven her to the edge of madness and ensnared every moment of her life in a chaotic swirl of endless hate and rage. She had become a vile creature, lusting for blood and generally lusting for anarchy in everything she did. A perfect means to draw out the mother he desired to destroy – unfortunately, all he had done was put her on a path to redeem what she had failed to keep safe. Aaralyn didn’t hunt down Vornskr, she hunted down Malum and as she got close – Malum was pushed further into darkness. During an encounter on the snowy world of Hoth, Aaralyn defeated a crazed Malum and pleaded for her to come back with her – to come home.
Malum, well Mira in actuality, resisted and pointed out all that she had done and pleaded with her mother to take her life. When the Sword of the Jedi refused and continued to plea, Mira brought down the ice cave between them and fled the system – and left the identity of Darth Malum for dead on Hoth. From there, she traveled from place to place, dodging bounty hunters and the like – just to survive. When she finally made it to Tash-Taral, her XJ9 Prototype was in need of parts from Incom and ‘Sneaker’ was beyond drained – she needed a place to stay, for now. That was when she found the planet on the edge of known space with a backwater trading post that was made from the ruins of a Super Star Destroyer and much more. On the edges of the outpost, she discovered an AT-AT that would be suitable for a home, and still be able to somewhat house her fighter from scavengers and thieves. Days would turn into weeks, weeks into months and before she knew it, time would be lost. It became regular routine to fight off the occasional group of scavengers or even Jawas who wandered out this far, making runs into Jaken for supplies and finding time somewhere in her day to meditate and even train. Most of her meditation would turn into reflection of her sins and what she had done to what she had become. She wouldn’t allow guilt to consume her, instead she would see how far she had come and how much stronger she was because of it.
Moments like these would make her mother proud, but that was someone she didn’t dare seek out. Not now, she wasn’t ready to face any of them. Not even [member="Aton Gyndar"].
Her feet would drag through the heavy sand just as the storm began to break and at the right moment – she’d come upon the camouflage netting covering the edge of the very sturdy and welded doors where her fighter hid behind inside the belly of the AT-AT. An emergency hatch on the underside of the walker had become the entrance way – and much like everything that was not standard on the AT-AT, it was engineered by her. She punched in a keycode and with a quick snap, the door opened and Mira walked inside the darkened interior of the AT-AT. She’d turn around and hit the release, closing the hatch behind her with a soft sigh. As the motion sensors detected her, soft glowlamps would flicker on and light up various points of the interior. To her right was the cockpit – which had been converted into her sleep area while the closest point had been converted into a makeshift refresher unit and kitchenette. Deeper into the walker was a toolshop and a workbench with various components and parts, stacked nice and neat – apparently very organized considering her situation. Behind the workshop and taking up the center and part of the rear of the walker was her “hanger” where the XJ-9 sat underneath camouflage netting. Even though it was concealed beneath the armor of the walker, she kept it covered anyways – no point in getting internal components dirty and cluttered with muck, right?
The sound of a whistle caught her attention as ‘Sneaker’ approached, his dome appearing a bit scratched up, and the purple accents appearing duller by the day. She’d meet him halfway and place a hand upon his dome and rub gently. “Same as usual.” She replied as she made her way to the circular couch with a rigged holoprojector in the center. With a rough sigh, she flopped down onto the couch and propped her boots up onto a metal end table and gestured. “Market seems a bit stiffer lately, apparently a lot of movement in the sector has people worried…” The droid replied with a series of inquisitive beeps and warbles as he rotated around to follow her before stopping infront of the couch. Mira shook her head softly and laid back, pulling the scarf free from her face and dropping it onto the floor. “No, no, I don’t think any of the big government forces are coming close out here – atleast not right now.”
She’d pull the goggles off her face, cybernetic eye focusing as she rolled onto her side and took a look at ‘Sneaker’ “There is nothing out here for them to find buddy…I think we’re ok.” She smiled softly and reached out, patting his dome once more before rolling back onto her back. “Besides, this is the last place anyone would look for really anything, unless you’re into black market stuff…”
Things were different.
She had brought about her own exile, atleast from this perspective and left little traces behind for those who sought her. On occasion, she could feel through the dark veil that surrounded the planet, a deep piercing light that touched her mind and then fade. Maybe it was her brother or even her father, but reality was, Aaralyn was searching the stars for her long lost child. Her focus was elsewhere, atleast for the moment. She wouldn’t be distracted by the sheer happenstance that a ripple of light through the Force managed to reach her on this desolate world. Survival was critical and in places like Jaken – one had to know their way around in order to make things go their way. One wrong move and you’d end up some slave – which was pretty much the same as dying. A thing she considered herself lucky – however, the bounty on her head had reached the six figure mark before she left the grid and hoped to keep it that way.
As the winds of the sandstorm continued to blow against her, darkening the skies and blocking the harsh heat of the system’s sun from baking her as she moved towards the metallic structure – she went down memory lane. [member="Darth Vornskr"] had once driven her to the edge of madness and ensnared every moment of her life in a chaotic swirl of endless hate and rage. She had become a vile creature, lusting for blood and generally lusting for anarchy in everything she did. A perfect means to draw out the mother he desired to destroy – unfortunately, all he had done was put her on a path to redeem what she had failed to keep safe. Aaralyn didn’t hunt down Vornskr, she hunted down Malum and as she got close – Malum was pushed further into darkness. During an encounter on the snowy world of Hoth, Aaralyn defeated a crazed Malum and pleaded for her to come back with her – to come home.
Malum, well Mira in actuality, resisted and pointed out all that she had done and pleaded with her mother to take her life. When the Sword of the Jedi refused and continued to plea, Mira brought down the ice cave between them and fled the system – and left the identity of Darth Malum for dead on Hoth. From there, she traveled from place to place, dodging bounty hunters and the like – just to survive. When she finally made it to Tash-Taral, her XJ9 Prototype was in need of parts from Incom and ‘Sneaker’ was beyond drained – she needed a place to stay, for now. That was when she found the planet on the edge of known space with a backwater trading post that was made from the ruins of a Super Star Destroyer and much more. On the edges of the outpost, she discovered an AT-AT that would be suitable for a home, and still be able to somewhat house her fighter from scavengers and thieves. Days would turn into weeks, weeks into months and before she knew it, time would be lost. It became regular routine to fight off the occasional group of scavengers or even Jawas who wandered out this far, making runs into Jaken for supplies and finding time somewhere in her day to meditate and even train. Most of her meditation would turn into reflection of her sins and what she had done to what she had become. She wouldn’t allow guilt to consume her, instead she would see how far she had come and how much stronger she was because of it.
Moments like these would make her mother proud, but that was someone she didn’t dare seek out. Not now, she wasn’t ready to face any of them. Not even [member="Aton Gyndar"].
Her feet would drag through the heavy sand just as the storm began to break and at the right moment – she’d come upon the camouflage netting covering the edge of the very sturdy and welded doors where her fighter hid behind inside the belly of the AT-AT. An emergency hatch on the underside of the walker had become the entrance way – and much like everything that was not standard on the AT-AT, it was engineered by her. She punched in a keycode and with a quick snap, the door opened and Mira walked inside the darkened interior of the AT-AT. She’d turn around and hit the release, closing the hatch behind her with a soft sigh. As the motion sensors detected her, soft glowlamps would flicker on and light up various points of the interior. To her right was the cockpit – which had been converted into her sleep area while the closest point had been converted into a makeshift refresher unit and kitchenette. Deeper into the walker was a toolshop and a workbench with various components and parts, stacked nice and neat – apparently very organized considering her situation. Behind the workshop and taking up the center and part of the rear of the walker was her “hanger” where the XJ-9 sat underneath camouflage netting. Even though it was concealed beneath the armor of the walker, she kept it covered anyways – no point in getting internal components dirty and cluttered with muck, right?
The sound of a whistle caught her attention as ‘Sneaker’ approached, his dome appearing a bit scratched up, and the purple accents appearing duller by the day. She’d meet him halfway and place a hand upon his dome and rub gently. “Same as usual.” She replied as she made her way to the circular couch with a rigged holoprojector in the center. With a rough sigh, she flopped down onto the couch and propped her boots up onto a metal end table and gestured. “Market seems a bit stiffer lately, apparently a lot of movement in the sector has people worried…” The droid replied with a series of inquisitive beeps and warbles as he rotated around to follow her before stopping infront of the couch. Mira shook her head softly and laid back, pulling the scarf free from her face and dropping it onto the floor. “No, no, I don’t think any of the big government forces are coming close out here – atleast not right now.”
She’d pull the goggles off her face, cybernetic eye focusing as she rolled onto her side and took a look at ‘Sneaker’ “There is nothing out here for them to find buddy…I think we’re ok.” She smiled softly and reached out, patting his dome once more before rolling back onto her back. “Besides, this is the last place anyone would look for really anything, unless you’re into black market stuff…”