[Story] Story a Week 46

[[ Prompt: A story about anger

In picking a character for this one, I realized that in general I have a very mellow bunch of characters. So I chose my female pureblood Sith Warrior, for whom anger is a way of life. Behind a cut for story spoilers. I kept it vague but just in case! ]]

The destroyed droids smoked in an ungraceful heap, their inner workings still whirring as their systems shut down permanently. Raanya swung her saber, loosening her grip, shaking out the tension. She had been caught off-guard, but quickly recovered. Her reaction had been instinct, self-preservation and nothing more. Only now was she able to comprehend what had just happened.

How could he have betrayed her? He was nothing, a pathetic human Imperial fit only to lay at her feet — and he had. Or so she’d thought. He must have been reporting every word, every move to her former Master. She was astonished at his impudence, embarrassed by her own blindness. She felt the anger coursing through her veins, building and gathering within her like the focus of a storm. And what about all of those shared looks, those private moments in her quarters — had all of that been a lie too? From the very start, had he planned all of this?

Don’t hide your anger, she heard the words of her first trainer. Use it.

Rage roared forth from her as a wild beast leaping from its cage. The Captain was knocked off his feet, crumpled and cringing. Good.

It is the weapon, and you are the hand that wields it. You are the Emperor’s Wrath. Show him what it means.

Her anger was a force, a physical thing with a life and power of its own, a raging wildfire or a churning waterfall — she could direct it, but not control it once released. She flung the broken droids aside, clanging against the walls like thunder. He had been trying to hide behind them, the very tool of his deception. Raanya seized his throat in her red claws, her eyes searing with rage. He did not beg. He couldn’t, as her grip tightened, crushing the air and the hope from him.


She stopped. Though the rage roiled and throbbed within her, though she should have snuffed out his pathetic life then and there, she didn’t. She held him there another moment, in disbelief, before she let him collapse on the cold floor. Raanya could not understand what stayed her hand, what made the wildfire smolder out and the waterfall run dry. Later she would reassure herself that she could use her former Master’s crude tool against him, but that wasn’t really it. There were far more elegant routes to her revenge. Did she care about him? She was Sith, he was not. It was simple as that. She found him amusing, at times, and she enjoyed his fawning attentions, but she had killed other lovers for less. Why, then, could she not do it now? What had changed? The implications of this were far more disturbing than his betrayal.

Raanya departed the station without another word to him. She felt exhausted, drained both physically and mentally. Though she could feel it burning still within her, it was only the smoldering embers of rage; the storm had passed.


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