BEYOND THE GALAXY: The Final Battle (BOOK THREE) Star Wars Story (Fanfiction)

Lost, Blind

SUMYA WREN
He shakes, confusion spreading over all of his senses. It gives me a chance. A tear leaves his eye and sits on his lower lip, near his mouth. I back away slowly, I turn and run. I must get to Kylo. He is our only chance. My only chance.
                  I run as the wind chills my face and my lungs ache, coated with cold air that's makes it too hard to breath. My stomach cramps, sending pain all throughout. I clutch my stomach, gasping for air. I had almost reached Kylo's position. Once I had caught my breath, I continued the way, walking.
                 Kylo stands waiting. Ready to attack. He had only advanced twenty yards from his original position. I'm not surprised. We have changed since their last attack on our base. We have fortified the base as much as we could, with the help of the engineer from the bandit attack so long ago. The engineer left shortly after and I couldn't see him, probably because I was in the imperial's detention level at the time. I shudder at the thought of it. I remember the pain. The aching in my body that wouldn't end. That wouldn't shake, that wouldn't fail to do what it was meant to do; to torture.
                  I move closer, stepping over a small bush about as high as my knee, but it was as long as the woods surrounding me. It was beautiful and green. Trees swarmed the area. The area where their ship landed, was a clearing. There were no trees nor any bushes. It was like all of the wildlife had parted, leaving space so the First Order, didn't have to burn their way through. The idea seemed right, seemed true. The Empire burned Mandalore, but their was no way of knowing. We couldn't part ways. We couldn't save our families. Most died.
                   A leaf abandoned its tree, that it lived on, falling to the ground. Once it touched the surface of the land I know, I stand. My knees leave the surface and I continue on. I jump into the clearing and follow the imperials, silently behind. Anything I hear could be of use.
I grasp my senses. "What am I doing here?" I scream at myself through thought. I grabbed the dark saber, but don't ignite it. I keep it loose, ready. I jump, swiftly and silently, at a stormtrooper straggling. I knock him/her unconscious and make sure he or she is still alive. I don't want to kill them, but I must. To save Mandalore. I tend to find myself saying that. Saying 'To save Mandalore.' But what does it really mean? Do I truly mean it? Are all the casualties worth it? All the deaths? I stopped myself dead. Sumya this is not the place.
I took another straggler by surprise, and repeated the routine. Routine. The thought sounded sour. Bitter. Routine. Routine. Killing. Death. Pain. These stormtroopers had families, possibly even loves, and I'm killing them without thought. What is my cause? Destroying the First Order because they destroy us. They distort families and planets and... technically, so do we... Who are we? Who am I? What's the rebel cause?