Secret Chapter 3
By Karen
July 2010

You know how people always daydream of being swept away and rescued from some awful nightmare situation and are taken to a wonderful land of richness and beauty? The hero is hansom and daring. The steed that carries his mission is sleek and fast. The plan perfect or the hero wins the fight without a doubt. And at the end, there is a perfect kiss when the woman has fallen in love with a complete stranger? Reality check: it ain’t ever going to happen that way. Ever. Why do I say this? Because I freaked barely lived from that suppose to be romantic get away and instead I’m without hero, or money, safety is a laugh, and again, alone on this stupid planet that I know nothing about. I really hate fairytales.

I was sitting in my cell, rather bored. I had slept enough and ate more than I ever wanted to of the gray gruel. No one had come to see me or say anything to me. I had no more information on what was to happen to me than what I knew before being dragged in. My body had healed enough to let me pace in the slightly longer than me room, which I did plenty.

It’s funny what darkness and being alone can do to you. You start to think and ponder stuff you never dreamed of wondering. Death, the afterlife, your past, who you are, who you will be, the negativities of your life and the problems of the galaxy fly through your brain.

You start to wish for things that you would have never wished for. Like being able to spend time with that girl who you were so jealous of and looked up to, despite the fact she had tried to ruin your painting. Or talked with your drooling, million year old grandfather, who presently in a world dating back to his and expects you to relate with him. And then shop at stores you hate and wear clothing that you would have only worn if you going crazy. These weren’t the desires of a sane person, but darkness can destroy what sanity life gave you.

And then he came. I don’t know when. There was no way to tell time. There was one very high and tiny glass window shining, weak, dull light into my cell so I could glaze into the grayness. If one had suggested that I try to time the meals, I would have told them that I am horrible at gauging time. It’s not abnormal for me to spend hours on my art and then wonder what happened to the time. It was a running joke with my teachers and friends that I was constantly losing time and trying to chase it.

I had thought it was just another storm trooper coming in, giving me my meal. As I quickly learned, I was to stay in one corner, facing him with a blaster trained at my face. I was to stay completely still and not say a word if I wanted the food and a kick in the gut. It was almost worth it to lose the tasteless food, but the hard booted toe to your stomach is not an easy thing. So, as taught, when I heard the door being unlocked, I backed into the corner and sat on my hands, looking at the bottom of the door.

I dared to look up, just a quick little glance and strangely saw no blaster aimed at me. The guard placed down the tray and looked at me. I was so startled by this change in procedure that I stared back, forgetting the fact I was probably going to be kicked for this. But I was spared my faulty behavior. The guard kept looking at me, grabbed my arm, and said one word: come. He hauled up me from my corner and half dragged me out of my cell, not caring I had knocked over the container of food, and took me out of my cell.

At this point my heart was racing. I was sure I was being summoned to the emperor himself. I was being lead to my death. I started to struggle, trying to wiggle out of his strong grip. He smacked me hard on the arm and the sharp blow stopped my futile efforts. We continued down forgettable grey halls, passing officers of all ranks go quickly about their business, not minding my panicked look. We stopped at an airlift and waited for the door to open. I was shoved inside and the guard followed. I went for one corner and he took another, after pressing a red button for the bottom floor. When the doors hissed shut, the guard did the weirdest thing ever and took off his helmet. Then he did something ever stranger. He spoke to me.

He said to me:

“Listen to me if you want to live. I’m a Jedi. No, don’t interrupt me, we don’t have time. I’m rescuing you out of here. You will act like you don’t know this and I will continue to act like a storm trooper. My ship is in the landing bay. If we are to get out of here alive, you will do everything asked of you. Do you understand?”

His stare, with those dark brown eyes where so intense, I could hardly do anything more than nod. I could only stare at his sandy blond, semi long hair that hung around his ear lobes and his tanned face.

“I hope for your sake that you remember this.” He told me in an ever graver told.

He put back on his helmet and resumed his poster of an experienced military man from the empire. He grabbed me, turned me around and placed stun cuffs on me, though I noticed they weren’t on. I was not give more time to think as the airlift stopped and the door noisily slide open, revealing the hanger bay. He pushed me out and the kept a firm hand on my shoulder. I remembered to play my part and struggle a bit. He, in turn, pushed me forward. I stumbled, as I tried not to fall flat on my face. We stopped our fight at one of the officers who seemed to be in charger. The Jedi grabbed my hair and pulled my head to him, causing me to cry out in pain. Boy, was he not kidding about playing the part.

The officer was a taunt, pale faced guy who had wrinkles around his eyes and a tired look to his face. He uniform perfect, but his body spoke of the age he really was. Serving the empire took a lot of a man. He was so tired and so bored and drilled into me with his distrusting, “don’t try me” eyes.

My Jedi, guard, maybe hero, who ever he was, handed the officer a datapad.

“I have orders to transfer this prisoner to planet A1104,” He said without a trace of betrayal to his character.

The officer studied the orders and seemed to find little wrong. He reached into a side pocket and pulled out a comlink, and seemed to be checking this order. The order checked out and we were cleared to go.

My hair was released, thankfully, and I was walked over to a small, personal ship. I was forced in and strapped in such a way, I could not get out even if there was a fire. I was hoping that the restrains would be taken off when we were safely alone. My rescuer took a bit longer to get in. I heard the ship being started and talk on the radio, all military jargon, before we were cleared to take off.

I was able to peer out the main visor and saw us rise and fly out of the landing bay to put distance between the cruiser and us. It was a big relief to be out of that cell, but there were a million questions I wanted to ask. I tried to gently ask my savior to undo the straps and cuffs. Without turning around, he said:

“I will undo the straps, but until we land and are safe, the cuffs stay on.”

I argued that no one was here. He came back with a reply I did not much like.

“It’s standard procedure to install video recording on all imperial ships. It is also instructed that all flight records are to be transferred into the imperial database system for later review. But it is not my fault that the sound on the recorder hasn’t been checked for a month. Until then, your stun cuffs will remain on, as will my helmet.”

I sighed in frustration. He paid no attention to me, but come from his pilot chair and took off the straps, after making a show of pointing a gun at me and mouthing insults and orders. He backed away into his chair again and did not look at for most of the trip.

I was not about to keep quiet, since we could talk and there was too much to try to understand about the situation. I began with asking what was next in his plan.

“I will escort you into a crowded market where I will lose you because you struggled too much.”

And then?

“I will report back to my ship and record a successful transfer.”

And?

“I will go to a waiting ship and fly off before anyone can realize what will happen.”

What about me? Wasn’t I coming with him?

“No.”

No?

“No. It’s too dangerous.”

Too dangerous? Why?

“Because you are Force sensitive.”

He said it like it should mean something. So what? What was the big deal? Wasn’t he a Jedi and also Force sensitive?

He turned his unreadable helmet and looked at me before letting out a sigh.

“Being Force sensitive means you can be tracked by people you can feel your signature in the Force. One trained Force sensitive can block and dim their signature, as well as evade being captured, but you, are not trained and will only endanger us by making us easier to track. It was be more dangerous for us to travel together than for you to hide on a busy, non threatening planet and for me to go somewhere else.”

So that it? I was just going to be dumped on a planet? I was being rescued so I could be chased, captured, and be back where I was?

“I suggest that you do not repeat the mistake that got you captured.”

No duh. Glad I had Mr. Obvious with me. So I really was just going to be abandoned again. I had no food, no clothing, no money, and no life. This was hardly a rescue.

“I will leave you some clothes and money, as much as I can spare.”

Wow, what a charity case. I was beginning to wonder if I would be better off in my cell.

“You would be worse than dead there.”

Oh like he would know?

“It is rumored that the empire is experimenting on Force sensitives. He is looking to create the perfect sith servant. And because you are female and able to give children, he may have had plans to…..”

He trailed off, not being able to complete his thoughts. He didn’t have to. I got the picture clearly enough. I shivered at the thought me being forced to breed monsters.

Nothing more was said during the rest of the trip. The mood was sober. I was having a hard time, wrapping my mind around the thought of being alone on a planet with little to survive on. I was not looking forward to continuing my past six months. There was a part of me that could not bear to run and worry again. I had honestly thought one of those old lovely tales may have come true to me, but it said the spirits have a strange sense in humor.

The ship landed and I was dragged out. Another officer, this one much younger and meaner allowed us to carry on. We exited the docking bay where we made our way to a large, busy market. A thousand little shops and carts resided in the market square with people were selling, buy, flirting, haggling, yelling, and whatever else I didn’t see. I was pushed into the masses and, by instinct and not for show, kicked at him. It was a strike of anger and fear that made me lash out. I could not face this end. I did not want to accept I was being rejected again. He pushed back, causing me to fall over. Somehow the crowd barely noticed. Just a few people turned a head to look and then go back to their activity. He reached down, quickly undid my cuffs, handed me a bundle, and turned his back before I could struggle up. When I stood up, I was in a sea of people, color, and noise. The Jedi was no where to be seen.

That is how I found myself on a planet I didn’t even know the name of. Such is my fate.

Yours Truly,

Lost