The Survivor

Twelve

Reflection

"Take me back to the night we met..."

(Possible Triggers: Mentions of abuse) 

"Master!"  Jora called, running across the battlefield to help in his fight against Sith Krylla Lyre.  

It was only her fifth mission with her master, and she was eager to impress him.  He had high expectations, after all, and was more strict than she was expecting a master to be.  Despite the fact that she feared his anger, she still tried her best.  

Pong Krell growled low, expertly blocking Krylla Lyre's red bladed lightsaber as she swung for his head.  "This is not your skill level, child!  If you wish to stay alive, I suggest you aid the clones.  Kriff know they could use it."  

Jora frowned, stopping.  She'd never fought a Sith, stuck deflecting fire from battle droids.  With slight disappointment, she ran back to Commander Helix, who was leading the fight against a wave of droids.  

"Commander!"  He yelled when he spotted her, shooting down two droids at once.  "Where are the reinforcements?"  

"They'll be here soon!"  She assured him, reflecting the fire with her single green lightsaber, sending the shots back at the droid.  

She could see his weariness even with his helmet on.  All of them were tired.  They'd lost nearly half of their Legion in the battle and hadn't had a proper rest since they'd arrived.  There'd been ambushes at every corner, it was like the whole mission was a set up.  

"Tanks incoming!"  Commander Helix yelled in warning, and Jora looked ahead to see there were, in fact, two large tanks entering the battlefield.  

Her shoulders slumped out of exhaustion.  Would this battle ever end?  She teamed up with Helix to throw shock grenades into one of the tanks, another team of two taking the other.  The tanks malfunctioned and blew.  

More droid waves followed after the tanks.  Too many clones were gunned down.  Jora watched their deaths in silent pain, wishing it would end.  That the war would end.  That the bodies slumping to the ground would end.  

It was the most brutal and awful thing she'd ever seen.  The droids didn't have emotion, they were just doing what they were programmed.  Sometimes they were amusing to be around with their dialogue and cluelessness.  

But there was nothing at all about this that was amusing.  Thirteen-year-old Jora Dame wanted to scream, to run and beg the droids to stop.  But she knew well that it wouldn't do anything.  All she could do was hope they wouldn't lose the whole Legion.  

Gunships flew overhead, carrying their reinforcements.  Clones started shooting at the droids before they even touched down on the planet.  The General, a Jedi with long black hair wielding a blue lightsaber, jumped down with his Captain, taking the droids in the center.  

Relief was visible through Jora and her clone Legion.  Master Maxim Silas and the 413th Legion helped defeat the droids, saving them from any more loss.  

I sighed as I sat down on the floor in the cockpit.  

Ursa-the Twi-lek-and Lavinia, or Nia, as Ursa seemed to call her, were finally asleep in my room, one girl on each bunk.  Which left me in the cockpit for the night.  Gungi was sharing Jylo's room, or so I thought.