Malison

Chapter One

The rain was harsh and heavy. Beating down upon her face as the world around her burned. Buildings, fallen ships even people all burning as the fires raged. The distant sound of blaster fire told her that the Rebels were still putting up a fight. Her master wouldn't be pleased if they managed to gain further ground.

They were sent to Lothal to finally put a stop to the Rebel alliance that had taken shelter upon the planet. The rebels were putting up a good fight but not good enough. The Empire had come prepared, they sent her. Darth Silva. The Sith had been turning the tide in the war, bringing civilizations to their knees and Lothal would be no different.

"Lord Silva, they're pushing us back. They're using Ion Cannons to keep us back, what are your orders?" A random droid informed her, pulling Silva from the depths of her mind. She exhaled through her mask and threw her robe to the floor. Brandishing her dual sabers and all black robes. "Keep pushing forward. I need the cover." Was all Silva ordered before she began her march to the heat of the battle. Failure wasn't an option. After rounding a destroyed TIE Fighter, Silva saw the Ion Cannons the droid had mentioned. They had it set up atop a demolished building and the high ground was keeping troopers from advancing.

With a crack of her neck, she took off in a sprint towards her right, using the cover of the fighting to get right beside the enemy forefront. When the glow of red and the unmistakable sound of a lightsaber appeared on the battlefront, the Rebels knew defeat was upon them, instantly sounding for retreat but Silva wasn't about to let them slip away. She sliced and maimed anyone she could, relishing in the screams of agony and getting lost in the sea of red. The smell of burning flesh as she cut through bones like butter filled her nostrils, even through her mask.

It was over so quick it felt like a moment. A fiery field of forsaken soldiers, laying in the dirt with the rain washing away the memories of the dead. Silva sheathed her sabers and let out another sigh. Her master would be there soon.

"All this death...FOR WHAT!" Silva looked over to a distant pile of rubble. A single rebel, a Zabrak man trapped under a concrete wall. Silva approached slowly, her steps in embedded into the wet mud. "You're all monsters the lot of you!" He screamed again. His anger outmatching his obvious pain.

Silva stood over him, watching as the light drained from his eyes. "I may be a monster but at least I won't die squealing like pig. You put yourself here in this moment, you chose to join the fight. Don't let your last words be wasted on nonsense like placing blame. It's all pointless in the end." Silva spoke with coldness and directly under the guise an inhibitor that deepens her voice. "You have no heart. You'll die alone and ...nobody will care, not even...your Empire. Hope... will prevail... in the end..." The Zabrak fell limp. Silva scoffed before looking out to the horizon, the battlefield now silent again.

"Finally. Some peace and quiet." Silva whispered to herself. However, she spoke too soon as a Storm Trooper approached her from behind. "You have an incoming transmission from Lord Vader." The trooper informed before holding out said transmission and there he was. Her master.

"I expect good news." His dark, gravelly voice practically made time stand still. It never failed to chill Silva to her core.

"The remaining Rebel grounds force on Lothal has been eliminated. As ordered, master."

"Good. You are to meet me on Coruscant, the Emperor has requested our presence."

"Yes master."

"Should you find any survivors on your way back to your ship, kill them."

"Yes master."

With that the transmission ended and Silva felt as though she could breathe again. "Ready my ship." She ordered the storm trooper. Together they walked back to the front lines and Silva watched as the medics were rushing around, finding any survivors, the droids killing any remaining enemies hiding amongst the debris. War had always been so fascinating to Silva. She had grown up around it for so long that the only peace she finds is a quiet battlefield. Nothing but the sounds of fire and distant chatter. A stark contrast to the sounds of battle, which is much more deafening.