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KITRA was alone. Well, except for the company of bodies, strewn in indecipherable patterns across the rubble, pools of stale blood collecting beneath their charred and mutilated corpses.
The acrid smell of gunpowder and burning flesh lingered like a thick cloud over the streets of Onderon, an abrupt reminder of the massacre which had occurred. The approaching morning sun glinted hesitantly on the horizon, bathing the scene in a faded orange hue. Without scrutiny the scene was almost peaceful, if not for the ominous air that hung over the dilapidated city, or the half-burned bodies that strew the streets like a spoilt child's abandoned toys.
From the hollow embrace of a collapsed building a small voice pierced the silent veil, the wail of an abandoned child adding to the baleful melody of distant gunfire and squawking scavenger birds.
Kitra Erso pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes, her chest burning with the effort it took not to break down and cry. Her mind throbbed with the knowledge that she had been abandoned, the overwhelming realisation enough to swallow every sliver of hope she had like a flame deprived of oxygen.
Against her own better judgment she pushed again against the piece of concrete pinning her shattered leg. But the weight of it was too much, and the movement only served to reignite the steady bleeding pooling beneath her entrapped body. "Help!" She rasped again, her bloody, raw hands struggling to push against the weight holding her. "Please, somebody help!"
Nobody heard. Nobody came. Kitra had about as much hope as the sightless corpse laying next to her, the soldier's dark eyes staring blindly towards a smoke-filled sky. She was as good as dead.
The bleeding was becoming too much for her to stem. It clung to her clothes and soaked into her hair like rust on an old droid, sickeningly warm and sticky. She rested her head against the sharp concrete pillar behind her, her mind beginning to grow fuzzy. Her strength was gone. It bled out of her as fast as her heart could pump it. How long did she have now? Minutes? Less?
Faintly she could register the faint touch of sunlight on her cold skin. Her eyes drifted close, allowing the final sunrise she would see to warm the numb over her hollow bones. Her breathing became shallow, her heart weak, and that was when she heard it.
"Hey! We got one over here!" The voice was nearby, yet distant all at once. Kitra's eyes flickered open and took in the tanned, weathered face of an approaching person. Her head throbbed, her eyes straining to stay open against the coming weariness. How much blood had she lost?
"Hey, hey, just relax." The person urged her, coming to kneel beside her head. They rested a reassuring hand against her shoulder. Distantly a chorus of shouts and pounding feet followed towards them; a rescue team. "We're going to get you out of here." The man promised.
Kitra opened her chapped lips, "Who... who are you?" She wondered, her voice shaking almost as much as her quivering muscles. She didn't have long now. Her vision was already dulling, growing fuzzy around the edges.
"My name is Davits. We're with the Rebellion." The man smiled, and her world went dark.
