Under revisions & rewrites
Book 1
" My only order to you is to not follow orders "
Dakota Ky. General of the 501st, Jedi of the Galactic Republic. The Perfect Warrior.
~
The Clone War is in full force across the galaxy. Jedi Knights of the Galact...
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After much agitation, the small side table next to the bed was yanked from its spot and thrown using the Force against the fan that cried mercy from the ceiling. Its mechanical parts rained down with small pellets of sparks and flickering wires.
The crash echoed around the empty room, which Hondo could hear from all the way down the hall. He quickened his pace, uttering a string of curses.
"Oh, man." He sighed loudly, rounding the corner as he neared the looming door that was practically radiating dark, emerald energy.
She sat idle on the bed, breathing heavily in the midsts of a mess that engulfed the mattress. The blanket had long since been kicked off and was sprawled on the ground. This left her robotic leg open and visible.
A haunting pressure expelled from the room when Hondo poked his head in to check the scene out.
"Having a party in here, Ky? And no invitation sent my way?" He shook his head in disappointment. "I'm heartbroken."
He opened the door wider and stepped in, taking a look up at the ceiling to where the fan use to be. "You know, that was my favorite fan. It really got the job done with air circulation."
She didn't say anything. Her face remained emotionless as he approached without a care in a world. He didn't let his eyes linger too long on the metal plate imbedded into her temple, although it didn't take away from her beauty. He didn't let his thoughts linger on the state she was in when the bald evil Jedi—at least that's how he perceived her—arrived with his precious emerald-eyed angel.
Her mangled, battered face, her missing limbs barely contained in gauze, her blubbering and animalistic thrashing, the way she'd clung to him and cried like a child as his best doctor attempted to subdue her into unconscious. Then, the surgery. The heart monitor stopping at least twice, and her having to be necessitated.
He shook his head, sponging the thoughts from his mind.
In his hand were a pair of wooden crutches which he left resting against the wall as he shut the door behind him.
"You're not still mad about me kidnapping you all those years ago, are you?" He asked, knowing full well that she was certainly not thinking about that. At his sarcastic question, she finally tore her gaze away from the invisible void to meet his eyes. "There you are..." he smiled softly, nearing the bed. "I thought you'd never come back."
"What do I owe you?" she replied dryly.
"What?! You mean you don't believe that I'd do something for you out of the goodness of my heart?" He gasped, placing his hand to his chest.
