Blood ran down the young woman's face, mingling with sweat. Her fist shook dangerously around the hilt of her weapon. Eyes grim with concentration, she took in a deep breath and rushed forward. Her feet dug into the soil below her with the thrust of her flying leap, and her form leapt gracefully in the air. In the split moment in which she was flying, she positioned her weapon in front of her. It was a deadly pose, resembling a diving falcon. Unfortunately, it was an attack she had become very accustomed to.

It wasn't that she enjoyed it. Everything in her aura detested bloodshed, but an aura alone could not stop her blade. The blade even she could not steady when the innocent were threatened. She had seen them; she had seen the destruction left behind by her foe. The sound of the lone Twi'lek child's cries burned in her head like a grieving mantra, fueling her need to battle.

A gasp escaped the lone warrior as her blow was repelled by one of her opponents, and another shot a blaster. The exile cried out as it hit her in the side. Her scream was short, and was soon followed by an evasion from another bolt of energy as it soared past her head. Several straw-blonde hairs disintegrated in the close call.
A third enemy lashed at her from behind, but the blonde woman was faster than that. Her bare right foot came up in a quick roundhouse kick, bringing two heavily-armored foes to the ground. They weren't done, though. It didn't take long for them to spring back to their feet.
All of the attackers hit at the lone woman from their assigned positions, satisfied to know that they were winning, albeit slowly. It was odd how the female thrashed, fought, and resisted. The cornered animal wouldn't die. No matter how many times they shot her, or struck her down. She was as battered as any corpse, but refused to back down. If their Mandalorian training hadn't prepared them for such things, the current situation would be frightening.

The woman stopped attacking-her life's blood pouring from a gash in her back. The thugs stopped their assault to observe her collapse. It was a foolish mistake. The moment that they, too, stopped, a swift flurry of sword strikes took out their front-lined warriors. The never felt it, and were dead long before they hit the ground. She was a merciful human, after all.
The ranged attackers backed up, though several crept forward to steal their predecessors' vibroblades. They, too, were instantly struck down by the bleeding woman, who was now treated as a demon; she seemed more dead than alive, driven only by the need for their ends.

Shivering, one young thug began to run away. She gave him the blind eye. Perhaps he would change. At least he would have that chance. The rest who stood before her would never again be able to attack anyone when she was through. After the massacre they had left behind, the exile didn't care what the price was for them to be stopped. She would protect what little remained with her very essence.
A plasma grenade came at her from the distance, but she was ready. With surprising dexterity, the young woman jumped out of the way. It exploded under her, leaving a scorched crater where she had been but a second prior. Her blood-stained vibroblade gleamed in the twin moonlight. It would be the last thing the remaining Mandalorian raiders would ever see. In a matter of moments, they had all fallen beneath the former knight's blade.

Her enemies subdued, the exiled woman stood in the middle of the silenced battleground. A chilled wind brought the scent of the sea past her, a welcome change to the scent of death. The exile fell to her knees, shaking. Her face was hidden from the sky for a moment, but soon she face slowly upwards, tears for the defeated streaming from her eyes. Tears for the lives destroyed long before they were ended. Her anguished cry pierced the air, and then she fell onto the sod.
The woman's bright blue eyes shed tears for what seemed like years before the sun began to rise. A crimson pool formed around her. The wind continued to blow, chilling the night even further with the ocean breeze. Then, somewhere beyond her broken body, she heard the sound of a child's swift footsteps.

It wasn't long before the young Twi'lek girl from the slaughtered village grabbed the exile's right hand. Her smooth green skin was warm against the exile's contrasting cold pale fingers. There was so much love in that motion; so much that the child felt for the blonde-haired warrior who lay strewn across the ground. The little girl didn't speak common, but then again, she didn't need to. The look she gave the human said everything.

A feeble smile crossed the exile's face in response. Whether or not she said it, she loved that little girl. She loved her even though she didn't even know her name. It was the pure kind of love; the kind that spurred a mother to laugh with her child. The kind of love that caused children to hold hands when they were frightened. The woman looked at the young creature she had rescued, and then felt her eyes begin to shut. With alarm, the child's hands dipped into a satchel she had carried from her ruined dwelling. Without even a moment's delay, a familiar needle jabbed into the exile's side. Strength flooded back into her body, and she slowly sat up. Deep brown eyes looked at her with worry, but she was not going to fall once more. Her arms instead reached out to lock the little Twi'lek girl in a firm embrace. Everything was going to be all right now. In a gentle voice, the exile began to sing to the little one;

"Hear my silent prayer," she began, the child latching to her as if her life depended on it. "-heed my quiet call when the darkened blue surrounds you," she continued, rocking back in forth with the lullaby.
"Step into my sight, look inside their light, you will know that I have found you."