Feedback: Please be gentle.
Distribution: Gimme credit and a link.
Rating: Maybe a little harsh language, certainly some violence, but nothing worse than on BtVS.
Spoilers: Up to Chosen.
Disclaimer: The main characters depicted herein are all mine, though the world they inhabit and the characters they resonate with belong to other people. I'm just borrowing them for a while.
Summary: There is always another side to a story.
Author's Note: Couldn't get this one out of my head, so I figured I'd write it and get it out of the way.
I don't belong here, he thought.
He knew there were others who would disagree with that sentiment. General Antilles, probably; he supplied the X-wings, after all. Captain Loran, almost certainly... once he'd had enough of the melodrama about him "abandoning" the Wraiths. Jedi Skywalker too, or he'd never have let him out here with eleven of his students. The most vehement disagreements would come from those very same eleven Jedi he was leading.
"X Lead to Squadron," he spoke into the radio. "Hyperjump in one minute. Transmitting course now."
They were flying to confront the so-called "Lady Sith." Twelve snubfighters piloted by a covert operator and eleven Jedi against one of the greatest threats the galaxy had ever faced.
True, the galaxy had faced a lot of threats before -- the Emperor, Iceheart, Thrawn, the Emperor Reborn -- but Lady Sith was something new, conquering a quarter of the known galaxy in the mere months since she first appeared. No one could figure out where she'd gotten her fleet or her army. Only a vague reference to something called a Star Forge provided even the slightest clue. Jedi who had faced them said it felt like they had been forged from pure hate, constructed out of raw fury. He wasn't sure how much he believed that, but he was the last person to question Jedi senses.
He thought back to the circumstances that led him to be here. It began about six years ago, with a dream. He was still in training at the time, performing field exercises with slugthrowers. The dream was of a small town, a suburb, really, that was utterly alien to a native of Corulag like himself. The town was under siege. Strange pint-sized monsters straight out of childhood bedtime stories roamed the streets.
He did what he could to help and didn't think twice about the odd dream... until the next one. And the next. These dreams were different from the first, though. He was no longer in control, instead watching through the eyes of a boy.
He kept quiet about the dreams, but since he started having them, he began to have oddly accurate hunches. Tyria, of course, was the first to notice, and the next thing he knew, Captain Loran was ordering him to take some time off and see Jedi Skywalker about it.
He still remembered what the Jedi Master had said: "You have a strong and finely-tuned talent in the Force for the aspect called Sense. The others... the others appear completely absent, not unlike one of my other students, though with more severe limitations. To put it another way: You are the one who sees."
Jedi Skywalker was right, which was why he'd followed his instincts when Lady Sith arrived. Surprise, surprise, those eleven Jedi -- all young women -- that he recognized... they recognized him too. The dreams only came recently to them, but they were eerily similar.
They trusted him to lead them into battle against a fleet that outnumbered them millions to one.
He staggered through the halls of the gigantic factory ship. He could feel the evil resonating in the very walls. The entire structure was steeped in the Dark Side.
He was alone now. Half the squadron remained outside in their fighters to provide an external distraction, despite the odds. Three more of the Jedi remained with the fighters, and the last two...
He glanced back down the hall and suppressed a flinch.
They'd given their lives so he could make it this far.
Not much further.
The door hissed open, and he stepped onto the bridge, blaster rifle held at his shoulder.
Aside from a single cloaked figure, the room was unoccupied.
Lady Sith turned to face him and pulled back the hood, revealing her face for the first time.
"I knew you would come," she said. "You wouldn't be him if you didn't."
He felt his heart sieze up as he recognized her. It wasn't really her, he knew, but rather, her counterpart here. Still, he had only the name he knew for her, a name from a galaxy far, far away.
For the record, no, he's not a character from any Star Wars publication, but yes, those were that Tyria and that Captain Loran, making this nameless fellow a Wraith.
And though I didn't make it especially obvious, those eleven Jedi were counterparts to various slayers that Xander would presumably be in charge of in Africa.