Sandy Sarna

Sandy smiled wryly at the old woman’s remark, but kept up her healing connection nonetheless as they made their way down the long ladder. There was no need to be secret with their force use anymore, since it appeared that all of their objectives had been secured. Aidan freed, and Misal’s hidden objective of espionage also equally secured. That one would be hard to answer for if she was questioned on it. The Imperial remnant had been fighting the Sith in the outer rim since before Sandy had become a Knight. And she, like many of the other of the knights in her generation, had cheered them on while the jedi council forbade them from pursuing the Sith. Something that had fatally stabbed the jedi in the back, by both the schism of the revanchists, then the same sith smashing a moon down on their heads. Sandy shook her head to push those thoughts out of her head. Regrets and second thoughts had plagued her for most of her teens and she would not let them come back. Those decisions had not been hers to regret. She held Misal upright and spared a glance to the bisected creature. Then with the sound of speeder bikes rushing towards them Sandy called upon the force. Not an illusion like those the Sith could conjur, but a cloak of the force fell upon the three of them. They would not be discovered unless one of the speeder bikers were an imperial knight. “Let’s keep our heads down eh?” Sandy grinned and passed the support of Misal to her grandson. Such use of the force took a lot of concentration.

Sandy, a counselor with no little knowledge of the healing arts let a grim smile flash across her face. She reached out with the force and let her mind touch the wounds, the exhausted muscles, and let the warmth of the force flood into them. The first stage of healing, giving old flesh the motivation to knit itself back together. Nudging it along with the force. She steadied the woman and made sure her arm was properly supported as they began their walk back. It was time for silence, time for her to work on the physical wounds, while Aidan did his work with the emotional ones.

Though Sandy was not horrified in the slightest by the site of the pale and empty sockets. She knew that revealing them would be of some embarrassment to Misa, but there was always a solution at hand. With deft fingers she grasped the hem of her light green tunic. She tore it from one end of the seam to the other, so that she held a long strip of clean soft fabric that she gently pressed into Misal’s hand. Sandy did not know if it was because of modesty that the Miraluka wore coverings over their eyes, or a longstanding vain tradition. But she would let the woman cover herself if she needed to. But there was something more concerning. The old woman spoke in such fatalistic tones, that she was worried that she could fall quickly into shock. She kept a grin on her face and crouched beside Misal. The Mission, as much as a failure as it may have been, was no longer important. “Are you alright?” The sound of speeder bikes roared again overhead and Sandy tighten her own grip on the woman's upper arm. “Can you stand?”

About halfway down the extensive communications shaft, Sandy was very glad that she had maintained the high metabolism of her teens. But still the mass of pipes, and overly sharp access points dug into her hips as she writhed her way through the mess to follow Aidan’s grandmother to whichever port the force was guiding her. But still, there was something off inthe force. It piqued in the back of her neck, causing a shiver despite the rising temperatures of the shaft. She paused for a moment to wipe the sweat from her eyes and when she had finally blinked the stinging pain away she saw the Miraluka plug into one of the terminals. She turned partway and gave Aidan a confined grin, and held up her palm to indicate that Misal had stopped up ahead. Her gaze lingered for a second too long on Aidan, then she turned back to observe Misal. But she couldn’t shake the thoughts that were persistently creeping into the back of her head. She worried for him, his future, their future. How could she not? She still loved him. The love had changed, but it was still there. Even through all of the muck and mire of Verzna-Torrah, it had persisted. Not the love of admiration, nor the frustrated lust of an unrequited love which eats at the heart until there is only bitterness. This was an older love. She couldn’t describe it in her mind, though the thought of it was so distracting that she nearly missed the subtle change in the force. What was that? The darkside was a subtle thing, moving unseen in currents and eddies that only fully revealed itself through the horrible actions of sentient beings. But Sandy could feel it. It crept in like a choking fog, that almost stopped her breath before she heard the call of Misal Draygo. What had they stumbled into? “Back! I will get her!” She jumped into action and dove forward towards the small form of Aidan’s grandmother reaching a strong hand to grasp the women's robe and yank her up after her. Sandy took a deep breath and let the force flood her as she hauled the woman up with her as they ascended together up the long and cramped passage way. She was now fully relying on the force to guide her actions and she pulled the woman close as she pulled herself out of the hatch. She reached out with the force to give the woman comfort as Sandy and Aidan gently put Misal down on the small walkway outside the access tunnel. “What happened, what was that?”

Sandy gave Misal an apologetic look that she hoped communicated the whole spectrum of apologies and explanations then followed it with a grin. Then immediately after a frown of realization that she had just tried to communicate with a blind person with a facial expression. Damn. She shook her head. “I thought we were trying to free him so of course I…” But Aidan’s Grandmother had already ducked into the communications shaft. Sandy wrinkled her nose in irritation. But she knew the older woman was probably right. A communication with someone like Aidan could have been a dangerous thing, and it was true that it was foolish, to an extreme if the Imperials had been expecting them to try and spring him out. She would need to learn to think ahead sometime. Or at least find out the intentions of her temporary allies before they landed them all in a cell. Sandy gave Aidan a grin but as her face was covered in the grime of the underworld. It mostly mostly showed as a white blur in the darkness haloed by now dirty platinum blonde hair. She turned back around and gestured for him to follow closely. She was sorry that they did not meet at an easier place to talk about what had happened during their last mission. But this was not the time. If he wanted to follow her, they could talk, maybe even make up from the trauma. Or at least she hoped they would. She opened the shaft Misal had crawled into and ducked in herself. It was a tight fit, and it would be even tighter for Aidan. But for now, She followed the presence of Misal Draygo as they wound their way through the darkness of the shaft.

Despite a good amount of concentration that would have much better have been used to keep her balance and grip strength, Sandy could not place the song. She never had been much of a musical girl, but she was confident if the song had snuck itself into a holocommercial she would have memorized it somewhere in the back of her head. The song must have been obscure enough to only only have been isolated to whatever planet the miralukan peoples called home in this era. Sandy shrugged it off and let her pace of ascent quicken. Pulling herself up, bar after bar, as droplets of sweat began to eak their way down the side of her face. “I have never heard it before, but then again I did have a very secluded childhood.” She laughed softly then let her eyelids flicker closed as she pulled herself up another long set of rungs. Sending an image of the scene, the surroundings, and feel of the area to Aidan. Perhaps if he knew precisely where they were, it would ease their infiltration. Or perhaps it would cause a lot more drama if he disagreed with his grandmother’s approach.

It would certainly not do to reveal herself in the force this close to the Imperial Knight stronghold. Plus, Sandy had always considered such trivial use of the force a tempting and evil thing. The pathway to the darkside was full of such easy actions, so the Jedi master relied on her own natural strength to do the job. With only a little difficulty she picked the older woman up and pushed her up until she was able to grab onto the remains of the ladder to pull herself up. Sandy herself pulled herself up, hand by hand until they were both crouched on the next level. Right at the edge of the proximity sensors. It was then that she felt a sudden change in the back of her mind. A conscientiousness. Not too far away, perhaps a dozen levels above. It was a familiar feeling, of a person she dearly loved. Then her commlink buzzed from its place on her belt, and she flipped it open. She scanned the words rapidly before snapping it back closed. “It would appear this was all for nothing Misal. They just released him…” She let out a frustrated sigh. Imperial internal politik never made much sense to her, but perhaps the higher levels of the moff councils had actually been alerted to the clear violation of protocol and had slapped down the warrant with due prejudice. She slumped against the wall and let her mind reach out to Aidan. She gave him the feeling of reassurance, then assured him that she would see him soon.

As they continued through the dark tunnels, the sickening smell of decay washed over them in waves. Sometimes the smell of rotting flesh, a body laying here and there, discarded like some giant’s plaything. Now rotting, flesh peeling back from yellowed teeth, as the small scavengers fought over the remains. Only stopping to stare with beady red eyes as the Jedi master and her companion walked by. “I had no idea such a labyrinth existed down here. I knew it was hell for the soldiers clearing out the remains of the Hutt armies, but I was not involved in here the Nar Shaddaa campaign. Only Nal Hutta...” She left off the strange taste of bitterness that went through her mind like an arrow at the mention of that now nearly four year old fight. She had been the only jedi to heed the call of the Imperial Remnant. She let herself fall silent as her mind drifted and sifted through those thoughts. Her anger at the council for its decree of non intervention. Her disgust. Righteous anger. Her battle with the Sith Lord that had been on Nal Hutta, and her unheeded warning to the council that had come from it. Now where those stern faces that she remembered looking at her with some strange pity? Dead. And if they had not been blown to stardust on Coruscant, or ritually slaughtered on the streets of Iziz, they were rotting like the corpses that lingered at the edges of her vision. She shivered and let the thoughts fall away. Delicately aware that her companion had likely felt each thought and feeling as they came. She looked back to Misal and smiled an apology. The sound of more legs in the distant overhead tunnels caused another involuntary shiver and her grip tightened on her lightsaber.

With some great deal of apprehension Sandy pressed the holopanel and set the turbolift on its rocketlike journey towards the depths of the Red and Black. The apprehension was soon proven true as the older woman whipped a dataspike into the panel. She took a step back and felt a frown begin to creep across her face. Was this really the way to deal with this? Surely a more diplomatic approach, if not just a straight and simple appeal to the Empress of the Imperial Remnant was the correct course here, not a subtle infiltration mission into the heart of their allies base. A base whose doors had been willingly opened for them. She did not like the feeling that shivered down her spine, but she kept quiet and watched as Aidan’s grandmother brought the turbolift into the bowels of old Nar Shaddaa. A place that held the secrets of a thousand years of slavery. A place where she had seen the bodies of slavers dumped like refuse into the deep dark of the yawning mouth of Nar Shaddaa. She shivered. The Imperials had called it a justifiable solution to what to do with those that had profited from the enslavement of sentient life. She had not stopped the slaughter, no one had. The hutts and their ilk deserved the fate that the firm hand of the remnant had given them. Had it been justified? Looking back it felt like it had been. The sight of child slaves strapped with detonite collars, still woke her up at nights, and seeing those that put them there gunned down, did not trouble her sleep at all. She swallowed her memories and feelings and stepped out into the darkness at the heels of a woman she did not truly know. Such was the way of the Jedi. "I have your back." And her hand rested on the handle of her lightsaber.

Sandy began to realize that she had mostly been informed of the famous and somewhat infamous Aryian Darkfire purely through what Aidan himself had said of the man. What she had sensed in their time of meditation, and the general rumour mill that had transcribed her time as a hopeful. The man had been larger than life, and he cast a very long shadow over Aidan and his family. Sandy decided to forgo any further judgement without the due research the man deserved and simply nodded in response to Misal. They ducked into a freight elevator and Sandy was left for the moment with her thoughts. “Which floor?” Then she looked back at the veiled and elderly Miraluka. “We are fortunate indeed, and I apologize for speaking on something I did not know much about. It is a tendency that has plagued me since my apprenticeship. I know AIdan has struggled, but I admit I don’t know how to help him.” Perhaps the answer lay in the young man himself. She could not force him to leave his baggage behind. That would be for him to do himself.

Sandy smiled as the older woman took her arm. While the fear of the rising of the old gods had been momentarily silenced with her report, there were still a thousand questions needing to be answered. The power the priest had shown was not the focused power of the Sith. But a tapped power that she had not seen since Felucia and the Maw. Sandy was still convinced that there was more to the general conspiracy than some wild and random darksiders. The power that had influenced both her and Aidan was far larger than the dead man they had left in the temple of slaanesh. Her brow furrowed with the thought as they walked through the corridors of the Red and Black. Perhaps she had always liked the childish side of Aidan, that quick wit, and even quicker temper. It had thrilled her when she was younger, and even though she was still very young, she could see the danger there. Not direct danger to herself or even himself most of the time, but he had always walked the line of rebellion. She let the silence draw for a moment or two, considering how best to ask her question, deciding finally on the bluntest approach. “He walks very close in his father’s footsteps doesn't he?” Sandy had never met Aidan’s father, but she had heard plenty of rumour in her years in the temple. He had died a brutal death at the hands of the Sith during the abortive battle of Onderon. Alongside a hundred Jedi Knights and the crews of many of the Galactic Alliance's premier starfighter wings. Another face that would be etched into one of the thousands of memorials at war's end. How could she help Aidan escape a similar fate?

Misal. An ancient force user that had seen the rise and fall of Empire and Republic, Sith Order and Jedi Order. She had seen as only a Miraluka could, the ravages that the galaxy had experienced in the past seven or so decades. Though she was no Jedi Knight, she carried the weight of her experience, and was due the respect of someone who had sacrificed everything for the cause of the Light. Sandy gave her a deep bow, her bright pale blonde hair slipping down on either side of her face, forcing her to take a second to tuck it back into its place. She smiled widely to Aidan’s grandmother and nodded her head. “I would be honoured.” She kept her silence, knowing that the older woman would direct the conversation where she wished. Sandy was glad of the walk, and Misal had much to teach the eager young Jedi.

Sandy could feel the saliva in her mouth dry to ash as she watched Aidan hand his lightsaber over to the Imperial Lieutenant. Her heart pounded in her ears, driving away every other sound other than the familiar pounding of battle. It was strange how instinctive it was, that even here in the heart of the Rebel Alliance, she was ready to draw her saber and cut someone down. She shuddered at the thought. If it had been even two years before she would have just gone and started a civil war within the Alliance to reclaim a lost love. How strange it was to grow up and realize that sometimes she had to let the things she loved go. That did not mean of course letting him get hauled off to some prison in the Red and Black and never seeing him again. There was a choice of paths here, and as a Jedi Master she had to choose the one of reason and non violence. “Lieutenant Colonel.” Her voice was calm, but carried the sharpness of a vibroknife. “Please list the charges, so that we may provide adequate defense during his trial.” Sandy’s eyes were as hard as emeralds. If the Imperial wished to make her use her Jedi and Military connections to dig up the info she would. But Sandy had served beside the Imperial Knights for years, and she knew that they would respect her as one of the few Jedi to actually fought the Sith before the fall of the Galactic Alliance.

Sandy could not help but smile as she saw her old apprentice. Unchanged as always, a cryptic but open hearted creature. She smiled widely and gave him a bow, choosing not to openly embrace him in case he would see that as an affront from their last meeting. “Yes Carson, there are many ways to restore a lightsaber to duty, but this is the path for Frond to discover.” The Jedi order and the Imperial Knights kept crystals in stock at their bases and temples for those jedi that may have lost their lightsabers, but Sandy knew that Frond would not want such a thing. A crystal was a special bond for nature minded Jedi, even those that considered themselves walking the grey path. She looked sideways to Aidan and gave him a half hearted smile. There was much for them to discuss.

Sandy’s pale blonde eyebrows raised in surprise. This was quite the quick turnaround from Sith Imperial Agent to a member of the Rebel Alliance. It was only slightly suspicious, but she was sure the Alliance Intel guys on Nar Shaddaa could sort the man out before they sent him on any further missions. They certainly wouldn’t send him on a bantha chase mission like the one he had been dispatched on. “Do you remember the units of the men you killed? Or what kind of uniforms they were wearing?” The real question was, why were there rebel alliance special operations units operating on Verzna-Torrah. There had been little info on Rebel Nets about the planet at all, but if there was an operation going on then perhaps the old ISB were involved. Which made her even more suspicious. ‘Well we are glad to have you Carson. No matter the circumstances.” Her eyes drifted back to Aidan. They were still a few hours left in this last jump, but she knew that once they had hit the Red and Black on Nar Shaddaa, they would be separated for the debrief. And who knew how long it would take to see him again. So she sent a feeling through the force. Not anything brutal or overwhelming. Just a general warmth.

Sandy glanced furtively at Aidan, her eyes searching for the answer to a thousand questions that she could not bring herself to ask in the presence of the unknown soldier. But his face was cool and calm, rested and without care. The chiseled face of an imperial knight. Made of dark granite, his eyes a pure green. Handsome as he was beautiful. She almost smiled at him, but knew that such an action was unwanted and even damaging at this point. So She simply answered the Soldiers question. “The Rebellion is built from the combination of two galactic governments and a myriad of other smaller planetary governments. A willing coalition of militaries and ideologies that work together to defeat and...” She looked back to Aidan. “...Eradicate the Sith Lords and their followers.” She looked to the side and tapped one of the control panels that controlled the holographic table that sat between them. A bunch of familiar and not so familiar insignias flashed above the table before filling parts of the galaxy in different shades. The Galactic rim, the Corellian Sector and the Expanse, as well as another long stretch of galaxy made up the galactic rebellion. The Largest of the sectors was labelled the Imperial Remnant. With the smaller segments being labelled ‘The Galactic Alliance in exile’ and then a string of independent systems. “It’s a bit of a complicated mess. But essentially before the rise of the Sith Empire there was the Imperial Remnant and the Galactic Alliance. When Coruscant was destroyed by the Sith, the majority of the government of the galactic alliance was killed. The Imperial Remnant accepted the fleeing Galactic Alliance and their military into itself and declared a galaxy wide rebellion. Which has continued for the last several years.” It was weird story, and the fact that the Remnant very much intended to keep its imperial roots was likely worrying to the Jedi Council. But Sandy would not speak of the divisions in the rebellion, for it helped no one to sow discord.

The rhythmic cascade of water pulsing across her scalp helped calm her laboured breathing. It was strange to feel this lost, she had always had purpose, always had direction. She had fought Sith Lords and Masters, defeated Mandalore and destroyed a revenant crusade, but still. She felt so lost. More lost than after Thalassia. Perhaps it was more of a fall from a great height than quite that low. She glanced to her arms and inspected the short little lines of scar tissue that traced up and down her arms. A symbol of that once great low. And a reason she usually kept her tunic sleeves so long. She took another shuddering breath, and slowly let it out through her nostrils. It was time to stop wallowing in the misery of it. She knew that, and the soldier who was blasting through the intercomm knew it. She took another steadying breath and touched the force. She slowly let the flow in, letting its soothing nature ease her tired muscles before she began to work on her damaged psyche. What had she lost? Love? Love was a spiritual thing, it breathed in, it breathed out. It came with the morning wind and left with the evening breeze. Love was a human thing. It grew up, it flourished, it had soaring flights, disastrous lows, it grew old with grace, or it died in a bed of cancerous loathing. Love was a fickle thing, easily lost and not easily replaced. Gambled away like an unseen paystub on an empty promise. Love was a political thing. Full of intrigue and the prayed against knife in the back. There was a time for Love and there was a time for Death. And this love had not died. Their force bond had been severed, but the memories remained. The touchstone was still there, even if it was bathed in sorrow. She let the long held breath out, and turned off the water flow with one hand. It was time to face whatever lay in store. She quickly dried herself with one of the towels and then pulled on a set of the shuttle's spare tunics. A quick brush of her hair, and a glance in the mirror told her that she still looked tired, but that the wound on her cheek was now not much more than a red line of scar tissue. She tested a smile and tied back on her belt with its lightsaber and emergency survival equipment. She took another breath and then slid open the refresher door, before walking on bare feet to the main operations center of the shuttle. Where she found the Imperial Soldier. She raised an eyebrow before flicking on the caf machine near the doorway. “Thank you for checking in on me, I do appreciate the effort. Caf?” She offered a mug of the steaming and over caffeinated black liquid.

The silence was the first thing she noticed, then as she relaxed into the pilot’s chair the slight roar of hyperspace droned in the background of her mind. But even in the lull of the white noise of the engines she could not find sleep. She tried to roll on one side and even shut the cockpit viewscreens down but still sleep would not come. She glanced down to the control panel again. Twelve hours until the jump was completed. Then they would be at Nar Shaddaa. The longtime base of the Rebel Alliance. She sighed and stood. Twisting the wrist worn datapad to set an alarm for ten minutes before they were to revert to realspace as she walked to the refresher unit. It was hard to describe how she felt. Tired, exhausted, but the emptiness she had not felt in several years. It felt like there was hole in her chest that her breath kept getting sucked into. She had lost her only touchstone. It was not until she had slid the refresher door closed that she could feel the silent heat of tears. Her vision was thick with them, and the hot droplets cascaded down her face to make a mess of her bloody tunic. Her hand unconsciously found the red door lock and twisted it into place, remembering that they did in fact have an unknown guest aboard. Her vision blurred by the cascade of tears, she turned on the shower unit. Selecting the water option from the dim display. She held her hand in the water stream until it turned to a pleasant warmth, then with a deft flick she untied her tunic and placed it into the laundry chute in the alcove beside the shower. She pulled at the bandaging on her face and winced at the pain of the medical grade tape peeling away, then tossed it and the bandage that covered her side into the garbage bin before stepping into the shower. Only then did the silent tears become soft sobs as Sandy struggled with her screaming emotions.

((That is up to you. See if you can make this post a long one. Describe yourself, cleaning your armour. Etc. )) She slowly pulled the lever back and reverted the starshuttle to realspace. The streaks of stars reverting from long stretched lines to faded white pinpricks of light against a dark canvas of stars. She glanced down to the navigation computer and watched the flashing information that was part of the calculations of the next microjump. They were within long broadcast range of a holonet transceiver, so the computer worked on also downloading new navigational data alongside its calculations. Her hand absentmindedly went up to the bacta patch that was covering the right side of her face and she sighed. They were finally off that world, and now it was time to take in the consequences of the mission. Firstly they had rescued an imperial agent, and secondly her relationship with Aidan was in ruins. It had been necessary, and surely he would know that right?

The walk was brisk and swift, and even though the pain shot through her face with every sylible she spoke, their talking did pass the time. It also comfortably distracted her from her feelings with Aidan. It was good what she did, right? Even with the pain? She could not know, and it appeared that this would be something that needed to play out. It was healthier that way, to take on the pain and the disgust. Face it head on. But for now they had an Imperial ort at least an Ex-Imperial to deal with. She clicked a button on her comm link, and the ramp of the Nubian designed starshuttle dropped down in front of them. The shuttle had been designed for a diplomatic team, so it had enough room for sixteen. Which meant the three of them could each have a separate cabin. She gestured to one of the refreshers to the imperial and sat down at the controls. Before they knew it they were off to space. ((Make your reply in the space thread: HERE))

Her emerald green eyes narrowed at the response of the Stormtrooper. It was not the first time that she had met a man out of his time. The mercenary that had pulled her out of a slavers cell on Tatooine had been a clone commando from the clone wars. But she had never met another one since. Her hand extended and the discarded helmet flew into it, and she tucked it under her arm. Such equipment was useful, especially if they were going to send this man back to his Empire. “Vader and Palpatine died a hundred years ago. Their empire was lost to the New Republic. And the civil war has lasted ever since.” That was a fresh wound however, and she wondered if he had been at the attack on Lehon or Felucia. Or perhaps he had been frozen in carbonite. Which was not unheard of. “Do not give us your loyalty so freely, I appreciate your trust and I accept it, and the rebellion needs many soldiers. But let us get you cleaned up and fed first. Then, when we are off the accursed planet we can discuss the future.”

Sandy’s smile turned from laughter to the smile of a person that had seen a decade of war and violence. When had she finally been accepted as an apprentice? Age eleven? Before that she had been in the slums of another backwater world. One whose accent she still carried. Thirteen years then she had carried a blade against the enemies of the light, she had seen galactic governments rise and fall, and the fires of dying planets. She had felt the fall of Coruscant when the Sith hurled the crescent moon Hesperidium into the planets surface. She had felt the Jedi Council die, alongside trillions of others. “There is nothing wise in the whims of the Sith. Their lies are a poison that has killed trillions.” She turned her wounded face back to the helmeted stormtrooper. Her emerald green eyes taking in his opaque T-visor as if she could see the haggard face behind the mask. “If we wanted you dead stormtrooper, you would have lost your head the moment you came through that door.” She lifted her hand towards him, showing an empty and scarred palm. “You can trust the lies of your masters or you can trust your own two eyes. Which I assume are not blind based on your shooting.” She turned her back on him, trusting that he would not try to gun her down as she descended the staircase towards the distant city. “Join us and save yourself from starvation and exhaustion. Or do not. Your life and salvation are in your hands alone.”

Sandy would have burst out laughing if she had not been still in the combat mindset from the few minutes before. This stormtrooper was a strange one, and nothing like those she had served with during the campaign over Nal Hutta. But those had been from the Imperial Remnant. Not the new Sith Empire. But she had been to Korriban, as part of a scouting team under Captain Slaughter of the Rebel commandos. From that experience she knew that the Sith soldier was very likely ill informed or had been abandoned by his intel network for the better part of two years. “Korriban is an abandoned ruin. The Sith military is at Naboo or Onderon. I can find you a shuttle to either of those locations, but I would say let us get off world first.” She gestured towards the distant city below them. “We have a shuttle that is well equipped, and as much as we may be enemies, let us declare a truce for now.” She looked at his dirty armour, stained with a months-long expedition. “Plus there are showers and maintenance equipment on board.” She snapped off the lightsaber and clipped it on her belt, before beckoning him to follow them. (See if you can fill out your post a bit with detail about how he is thinking and feeling. Describe the surroundings as well. You are doing great!)

Sandy looked sideways at the Imperial Knight. It was a weird feeling to see him this close, his expression always drifting between a grin and a frown. She had loved him since she had been an apprentice a decade beforehand, the love was still there, it had to be. Even if the connection had been so brutally severed. It was at least the love of a long time partnership and a dozen missions under fire, perhaps being lovers had led them to this pain. And for that she regretted it. Lust had never led any Jedi towards the lightside. But she still loved him, no matter what turmoil and damage that she had done in their time on this God forsaken planet. Time would tell if they could repair it. But for now they had a lost stormtrooper from the kriffing Sith Empire offering them a ride on his personal freighter. "Look.” She said, another pale stream of blood coming from the wound on the side of her face. “I appreciate the offer of a ride, but I don’t want you getting executed for giving us a life out of here. Do you know your operations base? We have our own light shuttle, and while it may be snug we can give you a lift just fine to some neutral location that you can catch a shuttle to your own territory.” Where was he from? Onderon? Carida? Kuat? She was very curious.

Sandy’s eyebrows shot up, as her hands tightened on the smooth handle of her lightsaber. She risked a sideways glance at Aidan, then looked back at the stormtrooper. “There have been many recent missions in which the Jedi have killed the Sith and their servants. It is the way of war, tell me what brings you and the Sith to Vernza-Torrah?” And why? Why would a Sith operative arrive here, searching for the priest of the old Chaos Gods? If anything this affirmed their suspicions to a T. The Sith were involved with the older powers of the universe and were striving to bring them back.