Nyx
Insert Hilarious Title Here
I suppose I should start at the beginning.
I was born on the planet of Hoithea in 800 ABY, to a Dark Jedi Cult that called themselves 'The Hand Of the Shadow'. I was never told who my mother and father were, just like the rest of the children born into the cult. As early as I can remember, they stuffed their nonsense religion down our throats, demanding we hail a being known as the Shadow, which they believed to be the embodiment of the Dark Side of the Force. According to them, our only duty in life was to serve her, and carry out her edicts.
I bought it.
As a small child, I was as devout a believer as a small child could be. I joined on every worship, watched each sacrifice, and cheered every time we killed each other. As an adult, I now recognize the futility of such things, but in my earliest years, I was as devout as any of the others. I idolized those who poisoned my mind, and condemned those with doubts.
When I became old enough to hold a blade, my training began. Blows were not softened, blades were not tempered. If you were killed, then the others were expected to avert their eyes. Out of the dozen or so Initiates in my group, only I survived to be fully inducted into the cult. Some were killed by instructors, some by Hoithean wildlife, some I killed myself.
However it was done, only I knelt before the Grandmaster that day, and only I was proven to be worthy.
Then the fighting began.
One of the core principles of the Hands of the Shadow was to ensure that chaos reigned. This often led to conflict between them and the Hoithean government, and I was on the front lines.
The first time I killed an outsider was one of the Hoithean militia. I plunged my blade into his chest, and watched the light leave his eyes as he coughed blood onto me, and I felt nothing.
Not pleasure, not remorse, not hate. . . nothing.
It was the first life I stole, but it would prove to be far from the last.
The first time I left Hoithea was on a mission to Coruscant, and to say that the two planets were different was a vast understatement. By that point, I was a young woman, and was eager to escape Hoithea. I and two other Hands were tasked with dispatching a Hoithean diplomat present on the planet. It was a dangerous mission, one that required the outmost skill and discretion.
I suppose that's why we failed.
When we cornered our target in his apartment, we found he was being protected by a man in armor I had never seen before. I would come to find out later that he was a Mandalorian.
He disposed of my companions quick enough, but I managed to kill the target, and he engaged me. At first, he tried to kill me with blasters, and when those ran dry we battled with blades. When our blades broke, we resorted to fists. And when we became too tired to fight any longer, we lay there on the floor of that apartment, panting for breath. He recovered first, and managed to restrain me with lengths of fabric.
He demanded to know who I was, and why I had killed his charge. I told him exactly what I thought of him, and he settled back, waiting for me to talk.
The next day, I finally relented. I told him everything, my life story simply pouring out of me. My doubts, my fears, my shaky faith in the cult I was raised in. He listened, and at the end of my story, he removed his helmet, and introduced himself as Rigard Verd. He offered to help me escape from the cult, and I eagerly agreed. He untied me, and we fled.
Word soon reached the Grandmaster of my cult of my escape, and he put a bounty on my head. It wasn't long before Rigard and I were fleeing both Coruscant authorities and bounty hunters. Between the fighting, I got to know Rigard more. I found out that he was his people called a 'Dar'Manda', and was exiled from his home and disowned. I never asked why he was exiled, and he never told me.
Our relationship stayed professional for about a year, when we were fighting off a team of assassins. He was hit in the shoulder, and while he tried to recover, one of the assassins tossed a thermal detonator. I tackled him behind cover, and his helmet was knocked off.
As the detonator went off, our eyes met. As I lay on top of him, something happened between us, a sort of spark. Then we were back to fighting.
That night, in a cheap apartment, we engaged in a different type of battle.
Three months later, we stood on the top of a Coruscant building, and spoke the words that made me the happiest woman on the planet:
'Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde.'
"We are one when together, we are one when parted, we will share all, we will raise warriors."
And with that, I was married to the love of my life. There was no ceremony, no reception, no gifts, just those words and a simple iron ring.
It was all I could have ever wanted.
A few months after our marriage, we encountered another man that would change my life.
A Jedi, that had left the Order. Sensing my sensitivity, he agreed to give me basic training in the ways of the Jedi.
He taught me basic techniques, what I assume Padawans would learn in the Order. This lasted for a year, until he helped me construct a very crude lightsaber. The Jedi bade us farewell, satisfied that his training would help us fight the bounty hunters the Hands of the Shadow sent our way.
Soon after that, I found out that I was pregnant with twin girls. Rigard and I could not be happier, and decided that we didn't want them to grow up on a planet like Coruscant. We began to save our money, and planned to flee to a remote planet where no one would be able to find us.
I gave birth on the ship, to two healthy twin daughters. Rigard and I could not decide on names, and decided to wait until we landed.
But we had not covered our tracks well enough, and the hunters found us.
They slaughtered everyone aboard, leaving only my family to fight our way out. I was still weak from giving birth just days before, and could not fight at my best. When we reached the escape pods, we still had bounty hunters behind us, and I knew that I was the one they were after, not Rigard or our daughters. So when they entered the pod, I activated it, and it left without me.
But I did not give up, and I did not allow them to take me without a fight.
Once more, my hands were stained with blood.
During the fighting, the ship was damaged, and crashed.
I was the only survivor.
I crashed on Dantooine, a quiet planet, a planet where one could disappear.
And disappear I did.
For twenty years, I lived the life of a farmer. As far as the galaxy was concerned, I was dead, and that't how I preferred it. No hunters came after me, no Hands of the Shadow, no Jedi, no Sith.
Rigard and my daughters were finally safe.
