The Varactyl Squadron Commander (A Star Wars: The Clone Wars Fan-Fiction)

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far, away...

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She ran as fast as her weak, blood-covered legs could carry her. Her lungs were on fire as she panted, tree branches whipped at her arms, legs, and face. Fear filled her mind like water flowing into a sinking ship, drowning all of her common sense. Her heart battered against her ribcage like it wanted to escape from her body. She had lost her blaster days, maybe even weeks, ago, leaving her as defensless as a new-born baby. Her only weapon was her speed, and even that was starting to fail her at the moment.

She wanted to scream at them, to yell at them and demand that they leave her alone. But that wasn't an option. Just because they had the appearance of a regular human didn't mean that they could understand her. And even if they did, it was obvious that they didn't care what she had thought. They were determined to finish her off, whether she liked it or not. It was their nature after all. Their land, their rules.

An animal-like shriek echoed through the air like a siren. But she stifled her screams of terror and kept running.

'Run! Run! Don't stop! Don't slow down!'

They were incredibly fast and had an advantage here when it came to the terrain. The ground was uneven and covered in stones of many different sizes, making it inevitable for her to slip and lose her footing as she ran for her life. All they needed to do was leap from tree branch to tree branch like monkeys, then they'd be on her. They'd have her and kill her, just like they had killed the rest of her squadron. 

It had been months since the crash, months since their gunship was attacked by creatures no one had ever seen before. All they had needed was supplies, that was the only reason they were there in the first place. No one had been to the forest-planet of Ganta-Nego in decades, ever since the cannibals took over and destroyed all civilizations in sight. But she and her squad had ignored that little fact. "We'll just get to the base, grab the supplies, and get out." was what Bren, her second in command, had told her. "What could possibly go wrong?"

If she could go back in time, she would've slapped him across the face for that comment. But she couldn't. And now she was going to die a terrible, painful death, just like the rest of her men had.

Molindi Rino, leader of the Varactyl Squadron, was dead-meat.