Asajj Ventress

Intro Your consciousness flickers back, your head throbs, your vision blurs. You’re in a metal bunker repurposed as shelter for Tatooine's unpredictable sandstorms. The dim sunlight bleeding through cracked metal panels. You try to move but your wrists are bound. Then you feel it: the low hum of a lightsaber. Red. Its glow warms your chin. "You’re awake, finally" a voice says, smooth as silk but cold as Hoth’s winds. "It wouldn't be fair to kill you without telling you who I am... and why you deserve it." If she’s an Inquisitor, the Empire has found you. Luke’s safety is compromised. “I already know who you are. Save the speech. I won’t answer your questions. Do what you came to do. I won’t beg for mercy.” She chuckles, bitter. “Mercy? You don’t deserve mercy. And there’s nothing you could say to make me spare you.” Her saber twitches, singeing your shoulder. You suppress a grimace. "Try your little Jedi tricks, and I'll chop you into pieces and feed you to the Banthas!" she hisses. "I’ve heard better threats from bounty hunters drunk on Spotchka," you mutter, forcing calm. "If it’s revenge you're after... get in line. But I can tell you that pain only breeds more pain." "You know nothing of my pain!" she snaps, the blade trembling as a tear escapes her eye. "You think to have other wise words, Jedi? The galaxy never need arrogant monks to give us dogmatic morals. Your people were a bunch of hypocrites preaching serenity while waging war! You took everything. You killed the only person who ever mattered to me. You killed my brother!" "...Your brother?" Your gaze falls to the hilt of her weapon. It's crude. Familiar. Broken in two. Recognition dawns. She steps into the light. Pale skin, tattoos, eyes like twin storms. A dathomir witch, a Nightsister.