Woman without a Country

"How many of these things are there?" snapped Ludmilla in disgust.
Bao-Dur chuckled gently. "Which, General? The Sith Assassins or the tu'kata?"
"Both," she snarled, whirling suddenly to block the blow of another assassin that decloaked behind her. "Where are they coming from?"
"More importantly, how are we going to get out of here?"
"There must be a way to unlock the door," Visas protested. "After all, they intend to get out, don't they?" She fought another pair of the attacking beasts that infested the abandoned Sith Academy. "I don't like tu'katas," she confessed. "They smell bad."
"Agreed," said Bao-Dur. "General, which way?"
"I don't know!" Ludmilla protested. "Here, this way, this looks unlocked." She kicked open the door, snapping the half-ruined door from its hinges. The door opened into a large room with a series of cages.
"Oh, great, more tu'kata." Ludmilla looked in disgust at the cages. "Why are they locked up like that?"
"These must be the ones they were training," said Bao-Dur. He checked the console. "Let me see…. Oh, hell."
"What?" said Visas nervously.
The cages slid open, and the tu'kata charged at them.
"Oh. That."
"Sorry," muttered Bao-Dur. "That doesn't normally happen."
Ludmilla grinned. They fought off the tu'katas easily, and the console beeped. "What is that?"
Bao-Dur walked back to the console, and broke into a laugh. "It says we failed the test, and that we should report to the detention room for punishment immediately." They heard a door slide open in the distance.
Ludmilla laughed. "That must be that other door we couldn't open! I knew we should trust in the Force. Come on!" She ran back down the hallway to the final room they hadn't been able to enter. It was a sparse, bare room, containing a single cage. Ludmilla stared at the bloody form lying at the bottom of the cage. "What?"
Bao-Dur looked at the brown robes. "Is that Master Vash?"
Ludmilla nodded silently, and continued staring at the body in shock.
"General?"
"Yes?" She didn't turn to face him, still wrapped up in trying to figure out how – or if – she had really failed.
"Do you have a minute?"
Ludmilla shook herself, throwing off the weight of the universe for a moment. She could tell he needed to talk. "Always, old man. What's up?"
"I know this doesn't seem like the best time, but – I just wanted to thank you. For everything. You keep me calm. All the anger and hatred I've carried around for the Mandalorians, and the war, and all the bad, unfair things that happened – you've helped me deal with it. And – I think I've finally come to terms with Malachor. For what it's worth, thank you."
Ludmilla smiled slowly at him, grateful and pleased. She held out her hands to him, and he clasped them firmly. "Bao-Dur, I'm glad if I could help you with any of it, even a little. I'm glad you don't blame me – or yourself – for what happened at Malachor anymore."
"I never blamed you, General."
"You should have," she said softly, but Bao-Dur shook his head.
"No, General," he said firmly. He looked down at the body of the Jedi Master on the floor of the cage again. "It had to be done – and it was best that it fell to people like you and me to do what needed to be done."
Ludmilla smiled sadly. "I guess you're right. What brought this on, old man?"
"My hands destroyed the Mandalorians. I killed hundreds of thousands, and I did it out of hatred. I know it was the right thing to do, and the only way to stop the war, but that's not why I did it. I don't want that to be my legacy – not anymore."
Ludmilla raised an eyebrow in question.
Bao-Dur sighed. "Besides, General, I get the feeling you're going to need all the Jedi you can get in a very short time." He looked at her. "If you want to teach me, I'm willing to learn."
Visas tilted her head in confusion. "You can't just make him a Jedi right now, can you?"
"To tell the truth, she's been working on making me a Jedi ever since she met me. I just never took that last step." He smiled at her. "But now seems like the right time." He grinned at the joy radiating from her. "And here, I thought only Atton could make you glow like that."
"I'm happy!" she exclaimed. "The Force gave me what I really wanted." She smiled, unable to hide her joy.
Visas felt the Force between them surge, the bond between Master and student forming, and Bao-Dur's aura turned to a soft blue. "Another Guardian!" she exclaimed.
Bao-Dur smiled, and Ludmilla smiled back at him. He looked away for a moment, and noticed a datapad near the body of the dead Jedi Master. "Hey, General, look here." He walked over, and handed her the pad.
Ludmilla took it silently, and began reading quickly.
"Anything good, General?"
"Bad news: She was caught by the same Sith Lord that destroyed Peragus." Ludmilla looked up. "Good news: She left a command to open a secret back door under an account in the system with her own name."
Bao-Dur rushed over to the console, and started working. "Got it, General." They heard rumbling, and then they all looked at each other. "What is that? I can feel – something. Someone."
Ludmilla looked around. "There's the door, quick!" Part of the wall was sliding away, revealing an exit. She knelt down, and pulled a lightsaber from the corpse. "Take this," she tossed it to Bao-Dur. "Let's go!" She pointed Visas towards the door, and let her go first, then watched as Bao-Dur entered the secret passage. Ludmilla stepped back, and pressed the button to close the door again.
"What? General! What are you doing?"
"Go," she shouted as the door slid shut. "That's an order! I'll meet you back at the ship."
"General!"
"Ludmilla!"
The door slammed shut. "I didn't come all this way to fail," Ludmilla said to herself. She walked over to the console, and sliced it in half with one swift blow of her lightsaber. "And I didn't make you into a Jedi just to lose you to a Sith Lord." She walked out of the detention room, and walked to the central room.
"Did you come here looking for answers?" The Sith Lord's voice was a deep, bass rumble. If she closed her eyes, ignored the evil rolling off him in waves, she could have said the voice was attractive. "The call of Korriban is strong, but it is the call of the dead. Is that why you came here? To hear the voices of the dead?" His chest was bare, covered in scars and decaying flesh that healed itself as quickly as it died while she watched. He was holding his lightsaber casually, just as she was holding hers. They were of similar height and build – muscular, built for war and all the things that accompany it. But while she was still young for her years and beautiful as only those of the Light can be, he was being consumed by the Dark side, and it showed – everywhere, except for his one remaining eye.
"Your eyes are brown," murmured Ludmilla in surprise. "Where – " she tried to remember where she had seen them before.
The Sith Lord didn't seem to hear her, and went on. "I have studied you. Read of your battles and your failures. You are weak," he sneered, "a failure and a weakling. And yet she still clings to you – treasures you, as if you were all that could give her pathetic life meaning." She could hear hatred and jealousy in his voice.
Ludmilla blinked in surprise. "Who are you talking about?"
"The old one," he snarled. "Who else could I be speaking of?"
Ludmilla stared. "Kreia? How do you know Kreia?"
"I know her as an apprentice knows his Master – and as a Master knows his apprentice."
"What?" She stared at him in disbelief. "Kreia was – your Master?"
"All that we know of evil, we learned from the old one. And she has not taught us half of what she knows. She brought us to the dark places of the galaxy. She opened our minds to our true power. She held us – and the entire galaxy – by the throat, and she crushed us to her will. But we rose against her," Sion said triumphantly, "turned her own teachings against her. We stripped her of her power and left her helpless and powerless," he gloated. "We cast her out and made the galaxy our own."
"Really," said Ludmilla calmly. "Because the last time you went up against her, she lost a hand but still walked away. Besides, what would a Sith Lord – such as you claim Kreia to be – want from me?"
The Sith Lord snarled in fury. "She clings to hope. She desires to train another as great as her first – or greater. And then her final plan for us all will be revealed."
Ludmilla shook her head. "Kreia? A Sith? That's just silly."
"She is a fool," Sion raged, "a meddling old hag who has escaped death too many times. She will not do so again."
"Okay," she confessed, "that does sound like Kreia. So what do you want with her?"
"I want her to die!" Sion shouted. "I will destroy all that she holds dear, cast it down in shards at her feet. All her dreams, I will shatter – all her hopes, I will crush – and you – her precious student that she would sacrifice so much to protect – you, who have not survived her teachings as I have – you, who has never bested her in combat as I have – you, who she treasures and respects – you, I will cast your lifeless body before her and laugh at her pain!" The Sith Lord activated his lightsaber, and Ludmilla couldn't stop herself from thinking that it was a rather pretty shade of red.
She shook herself, and activated her lightsaber in response.
"You are nothing," said Sion, shaking with rage and jealousy, "yet she still walks with you, is willing to sacrifice herself for you!"
"I didn't ask for her protection," said Ludmilla softly. "But she helped me, when I needed her aid. So I'm not going to abandon her now – or ever."
"You do not know her as I do!" Sion circled her slowly, his blade held cautiously. "I have studied you, trying to find what it is that she sees in you. I have seen the paths you walked in your exile, through the filth and the blasted places of the Far Rim. I have seen the death you left in your wake. I have seen what you did to Dxun while the Republic died around you, how you pulled victory from the bloodied, smoking ashes of a ruined world. You know war. You know battle."
Years of practice enabled Ludmilla to hear his words without flinching, and she settled herself into a guarding stance as she warily watched Sion.
"But you do not let it touch you." Sion looked curiously at her. "Even at Malachor – the heart of the war – you saw what Malachor wrought, yet you turned away from it. Walked away untouched. You refused to put your hands on the power it offered you. Weak," he snarled again. "A wretched thing, fearful and weak. You are nothing! You are no fit apprentice to her, and I am the only true Master!" The Sith Lord attacked, suddenly, explosively. "Weak," he repeated again as he slammed his lightsaber into hers, "You are weak, and that is why you will die."
Ludmilla didn't bother to answer his jealous ravings, and concentrated on guarding against his flurry of furious attacks. She shifted forms to meet his attacks, gliding smoothly from one stance to another, carefully studying his style. He was very good – a duelist of the old style, and a true Weapon Master. Despite herself, she grinned in delight. It had been a long time since she'd crossed blades with someone who was a true challenge. "Sword and glory," she chanted, shifting her stance to attack, "blade and fame."
"You dare?" snarled Sion, trying to sweep her off her guard, but she moved too fast, using the rubble and uneven terrain to her advantage.
"Honor, battle, clan and name," Ludmilla sang, using a rock to launch herself into the air, arcing over Sion's head. He didn't lose her, and blocked her aerial attack, but staggered forward, tripping over some rubble. She landed cleanly, still singing, and followed up while he was still off-balance. "Keep tradition, win the fight!" She rained blows down on him, almost completely breaking down his guard, and he retreated before her furious attacks. "Sword and glory, mask and might!"
Sion dodged just a little too slowly, and her lightsaber severed his sword arm from his body. With an anguished scream, he staggered back.
In horror, Ludmilla watched as his arm slowly rose from the floor, Dark energy pulsing between him and the severed limb – completely uncontrolled – and the arm began to reattach itself to the Sith Lord's body while he screamed in pain.
Ludmilla felt a gentle, almost shy touch at her mind. "Child?"
She smiled. "Oh, now you ask permission to spy on me?"
She could feel Kreia smile in response. "If you are willing to listen to wisdom, child, then you should flee. Sion cannot be defeated here – not on Korriban, where the Dark Side flows so strongly. He is no longer flesh and blood. This is not a battle that you can win."
"Now you tell me," Ludmilla muttered. "Anything else I should know?"
"There will be another time," said Kreia soothingly, obviously mocking, and sent Ludmilla the image of another secret passage in the library. "Now go!"
Ludmilla saw Sion stagger to his feet, his arm almost completely reattached, and she ran for the library before he could attack again.
She saw an assassin decloak just behind her, and dodged his blow. To her surprise, the assassin fell – cut down by Sion's thrown lightsaber. The Sith Lord was watching her, as if he had never seen her before. His face was quiet and still beneath the maze of scars and he reached out, calling the lightsaber back to his hand.
"Do not harm her."
Stunned, Ludmilla backed into the library, unable to see Sion's remaining eye from her current vantage point, and thoroughly confused.
"My Lord?" said one of the invisible assassins from somewhere near the Sith Lord.
"Do not harm her," he repeated. "I command it. She – she has earned this." The library doors began to close, locking out the Sith. "She and I – we will meet again," said Sion softly.