Crimson Guard

1 - The Beginning

I'm not sure how this story is gonna go, but I'm pretty invested in my child here, so hope you guys like it. Give me some feedback and we'll see where it goes! Enjoy!

The twin suns of Tatooine beat down on the desert. The heat was intense, and the sand coated the entire planet. But the people were used to the high temperatures and the grit that covered everything no matter how often it was cleaned. Still they gathered in the slums, all packed together to watch the different games and illegal activities organized by the Hutts. The bars were a favorite, illegal imports from all over the galaxy in high demand in each one, and each one more full of scum than the others. Mos Eisley was one of the worst of all, but it was on the outskirts of the planet. The largest city held the podracing circuit, the best illegal substances, and the most crowded gambling halls in the galaxy. But the favorite form of entertainment, was the slave fights.

Day or night, rain (on the rare occasion any ever fell) or shine (when didn't it), the high and mighty came from far and wide with their slaves to fight in the arena of the Hutts. Bets were made, won, and lost. Slaves won their freedom, or lost their lives if they were not skilled enough. Champions were created, but known by no name but that of their masters. Prizes of money, jewels, and land on distant planets were given to the nobles who brought players for the massive game. Some slaves were granted the highest prize by their masters for their victories, others were given a small sum of the earnings placed on them to win, but most were glad to escape with their lives. Yet still the prayers of the slaves who came to fight were not to win or be granted life, nor to be given sums to put towards their own freedom. They prayed not to be paired with the Champion of Tatooine, the Champion of the Hutts.

In the past, this would not have been such a worry. The Champion chosen by the Hutts would be ordinary, or even below standard. The slaves on Tatooine were not fed well or trained well, and strength was hard to gain or keep. But now, the Hutts could not seem to lose. Their winning streak had started three years ago, and a name became known above all others throughout the galaxy.

Yazasha.

It seemed as though no one could beat her, no matter how much training they had gone through. All they were given was a name. No description, for no one ever saw her entire face. There was no way to describe her style of fighting, as it never seemed to stay the same. No backstory, because even the Hutts didn't know. Mostly because no one really bothered to care about the story of a slave girl on Tatooine. The only thing anyone really knew about her, was that she was brutal. There was no second fight to look forward to if you were paired with Yazasha, you were practically a walking corpse already. She fought without mercy, and she fought to win. Then again, everyone did. If you didn't fight you would only die sooner, or suffer the consequences on the off chance Jabba didn't give the order for your death. Of course, saying she was brutal did not mean she was cruel. Your death would be a quick one as soon as the order was given, she did not leave her targets to bleed out slowly on the ground. She never humiliated her opponents if not ordered to by the Hutts, so whatever dignity was left to a slave would be retained, though it was little comfort.

Yazasha was an incredible fighter, but she was not invincible by any means. She took hits as often as anyone else. She was just as strong as the men she fought, and had none of special abilities many of them did. Nothing about her was particularly special to anyone who saw her, and nothing made her a sure winner. Nothing but her spirit. The woman refused to lose, no matter how hopeless the fight became, and that was why she won. Giving up was not an option in her mind. It was win or die, and she didn't plan on dying on a sandy planet in the middle of nowhere. She was clever, strong-minded, and ruthless when it came to winning. Yazasha could have been anything she wanted had she been given the chance, but that chance was stolen by the man who caught her in the first place. Instead, at the young age of twelve, she had been sold as a bait fighter, the one they threw in when the crowd wanted blood. She had been a slave as long as she could remember, mostly as a slave for labor, but the strength she gained paled in comparison to the man she was set up to fight.

They expected a quick battle, full of blood and violence, and a quick death for the young girl. Imagine their surprise when the five-foot-nothing, 90 pound bag of bones came out on top. She didn't fall the first time she was hit, the guy seemed to feel bad for her, and he tried to pull his punches. But the little girl who refused to go down did not return the courtesy. She didn't know how to throw a punch, but she could take one well enough after being a slave her whole life. Little Yazasha knew exactly what the crowd expected, and she was sick of being what people expected. She knew how to swing something heavy, so that was what she did. She darted around the man's swings, which was especially difficult now that he was actually trying, but as soon as she had a metal bar in her hand, the poor man was done for. She didn't hesitate when the arena master gave the order, she knew what would happen if she did. That was the day Yazasha became a fighter instead of bait, but it was also the day she changed. Her life had always been hard, but Yazasha had made up her mind as soon as the first punch hit her. She would not be their puppet any longer, and she would not be dying for their entertainment.

She would be winning.