4 ABY
Tara walked in silence through the vast corridors of the Empire's newest jewel, the Death Star—or, the second one, she supposed, since they'd managed to allow the first one to be blown up four years ago—with her eyes darting between each gap in the walls and doorways. She had to find that lightsaber.
She couldn't ask for help, of course. For one thing, none of the officers or stormtroopers would agree to help. Inquisitors were a dying breed, which meant the respect for them was waning. She couldn't understand it if she were being honest. She was once a part of an elite army of force-sensitive soldiers. They were unstoppable until they weren't.
That wasn't to say she particularly enjoyed being Inquisitor. She was taken against her will as a child, and her training was less than pleasant, but she'd be lying if she said she didn't sometimes enjoy the power her position once held. Crowds parted for Inquisitors. The masses feared them enough to listen to them. Nowadays, they're a rare sighting. More often now, she felt like a spare bodyguard for whoever Darth Vader asked her to shadow.
She didn't understand that much either. She hardly did anything anymore. She'd lost her lightsaber, she used it so little these days. She simply followed Vader across the galaxy, putting down rebel activity. He rarely needed or asked for her assistance. He hadn't even asked for her when he went down to the forest moon of Endor below them to intercept a rebel. She could've used some excitement like that.
He'd only given her some vague warning about how she may have a new Sith to answer to—which, in itself was shocking since he rarely actually spoke to her—and rushed off to deal with the rebels. Which left her here, on the Second Death Star. With nothing to do but look for that lightsaber.
She sighed, pressing her back against one of the metal walls of the space station. The hall was empty. She closed her eyes, shaking her head against the cool metal. With less and less to do these days, she thought more often about life before the Empire or the Inquisitorius. Back when she had a...home.
Even the word felt foreign in her thoughts. Mandalore was home. She could admit that after all these years. The camps she lived in with the Death Watch never felt permanent or right. Mandalore did. Even her time in the streets on her own felt like home. She wondered if anyone else missed the planet the way she did sometimes. But it was gone, she knew that. She watched the bombs tear it apart. She watched beskar crumble like sand. Warriors dying. A planet reduced to ash. A mere skeleton of its former self.
Mandalore was dead, and that version of herself died with it. All that remained was the Inquisitor. It was all she could be.
The walls trembled and she pushed herself off them, looking around. Suddenly, the stormtroopers were running. The whole station shook harder. Pieces of the ceiling and levels above her broke off and fell, crushing the floor under them. Something in the force shook her to the core, giving her one thought.
Run.
So she did. Thoughts of her lost lightsaber abandoned her. The station was going down. She could feel it. Everyone around her could too. Stormtroopers and officers ran in front and behind her. She heard the shouts, the cries as they announced the station was about to blow. The rebels must have won, she thought. She made a run for the main hangar. Everyone would be trying to escape, and she doubted anyone would wait around for her.
When she reached it, her suspicions were confirmed. She could barely keep her footing as she ran for the nearest ship. A Lambda-class shuttle. It wasn't the speediest vessel, but it would have to do. She could see flames bursting up from the floors and ventilation shafts now. She had seconds, maybe, to escape.
There was no time for preflight checks. She started up the ship and pulled it off the ground, hoping the flames wouldn't catch up to her. The wings of the shuttle yawned open leisurely and she almost screamed from frustration. She needed to move.
The ship blasted out of the hangar and she veered away from Endor. Her eyes went wide as she took in the sight before her. Rebel ships were everywhere, taking out the last of the star destroyers. Every last one was obliterated by the Rebel Alliance. She never realized they had it in them, those rebels.
Behind her, the seismic boom shook her core. She wheeled the ship around in a wide turn, watching from afar as the Second Death Star exploded into thousands of tiny shards of metal. She wondered how many people had gone with it. A chilling emptiness settled in her chest and she sat back in her pilot's seat, letting out a ragged breath.
The Emperor was dead. She could feel it.
And so was Vader.
Her hands shook as she gripped the steering controls on the shuttle. There were several rendezvous points she knew of for Imperials when something went wrong. She could make the jump to any number of them. She couldn't approach the rebel fleet. They'd kill her.
She sucked in a shuddering breath, glancing at the navicomputer. She could go anywhere she wanted, anywhere in the galaxy. She was...free.
Tara Vizsla could be whomever she wanted to be.
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Mandalorian Revived
قصص الهواة**FINAL sequel to Mandalorian Lost** Tara Viszla has one purpose in this galaxy. She only wishes she knew what it was. Once, it was to be the child that would ensure the Death Watch's rule over Mandalore. After that, she thought it was to fight for...
