All That We Are: A Star Wars Story

3

Aldera City

          Pushing past the bodies that forced their way forward, Nasia's breath turned into heavy, fast-paced huffs. It took everything in her not to Force push everyone to carve a path, but of course, that would give her away. As much panic as the mass of people caused, she couldn't deny that it was her greatest cover at the moment.

          Those screams of power turned into a blend of rage and fear as the line of clones shoved their way through the students. A lot of them shoved back.

          "The Jedi did nothing wrong!"

        "You're all murderers!"

        "Kriff your Empire!"

          For the majority of the war, protests on Alderaan emphasized the importance of clone lives, and most of them took place on campus. Students seemed to have a certain confidence that led them to fight for others' rights, despite the opposing views of the rest of the galaxy. Even with all that, knowing that these people were once on the troopers' sides, the orders to take them down were overbearing.

          Everybody's voices and the feeling of thick raindrops hitting Nasia's skin were drowned out to near non-existence. The pushing and shoving didn't stop, but the Mirialan woman didn't feel any of it anymore. Her mind was set on getting out the other side of the horde but was interrupted by the new feeling of concrete scraping against her face. 

          Nasia scrambled to her feet and rubbed her palm against her cheeks to find the wound, briefly passing over an old scar on the underside of her jaw. Light blood also trickled down her forehead and formed stars in her vision, but that didn't stop her from pushing further.

          The free space that suddenly surrounded her limbs welcomed her like a breath of fresh air. She finally felt like her lungs could fill themselves to the brim. Behind the Jedi, the screams grew louder as blaster shots rang out into the air. There was no telling whether or not they went into the crowd or simply into the air above the students as a threat.

          Shrill panic filled the atmosphere and brought back the pounding in Nasia's head that she had only felt a few times before. The relieving amount of air she was able to take in a moment ago slowly cut itself off and her breath became labored. Now somewhat isolated from the crowd, their screams becoming merely a part of the background, Nasia fell to her knees. "Not again... You kriffin' idiot,"

          While the feeling of dread and fear that accompanied her light-headedness were eerily similar to those feelings of the dark side, it wasn't the same. It was all her – the Force had nothing to do with it. In the past, she was taught how to use the Force in order to control her emotions, but every now and then, they would slip past her defenses. Hunched over, tears started streaming from the corners of her eyes, blending into the rain that fell down her face. She rubbed her palms on her shirt over and over to get rid of the sweat that coated them, but the more she pressed on her chest, the more constricted it felt. Her limbs were extremely weak at the moment, but oddly enough, her hands had the strength of a Rancor when used against herself.

          A Mon Calamari ran past her, not bothering to look down. Then, a human boy. More and more students started to run in her direction, but most went right past her. A few scattered hands tried to pull her up as they ran and gave up after realizing she wouldn't budge. Through her blurring vision, she saw spots of white and green growing larger, closing in on the students that ran. "Oh kriff, oh kriff..." She muttered to herself, not having the strength to say much else.

          An internal voice began screaming at the Jedi, 'Run. Run.'

          "Hey, get out of the way! Run!" A blue woman skidded to a stop in front of Nasia and was followed by a small group of other women. "Come on! Get her up!" She began pulling her arms as another taller, burlier figure wrapped an arm around Nasia's waist – one of her many arms, it seemed.