A flash. She stumbles, dirt stinging against her face.
“Fall back!” a voice shouts. The colonel. He’s waving frantically from a crater in the ground.
The snap of a rifle reloading. Blood rushing in her ears. She’s running toward him. She rolls, falling behind a ridge to lie flat. She lines up her sights. She sees the colonel.
He’s mouthing to her. “Be ready! He’s coming this way.”
Shock troops fight and die a few yards away as a platoon of Republic infantry rushes them. They are outnumbered. The sky turns orange. Flames.
She counts…. Twenty, thirty-five, forty-nine troops remaining? It is getting too hot. Why are they here?
Someone throws something. A cloud of smoke erupts. Smoke grenade. She charges up the hill, falling to the ground in between two stones. The colonel is running up beside her.
She sets up her rifle, searching, searching... Where is he? The smoke clears. There’s her target. Her heart sinks. He’s a Jedi. A Jedi commander... Jedi. They were supposed to be guardians of light. Weren’t they? The colonel notices him late.
He points. “Take him out, take him out!”
Troopers scream as the Jedi cuts them down in wide sweeps. His eyes look dead. She lines up her sites.
Wait. It’s him. The one that saved Breams.
She hesitates. Nausea. Confusion. Bright light and pain.
“What are you waiting for! Kill him!” the colonel screams.
He’s coming up the hill.
“We’re being overrun!”
She pulls the trigger. The Jedi tumbles to the dirt. He died? Why didn’t he deflect it? Hands are pulling her. An empty helmet rolls at her feet.
“To your feet, you idiot!”
She stumbles. The ground opens up and swallows her. She gasps, breathing in the numbers. The men on the field. The casualties. Severed arms and legs. Shrapnel blasts. Blades of grass. Birds. Tangren. Recalculation of tactics, approaches, possibilities. Too many numbers.
I calculated wrong.
Something hits her in the face. Blackness.
“Fall back!” a voice shouts. The colonel. He’s waving frantically from a crater in the ground.
The snap of a rifle reloading. Blood rushing in her ears. She’s running toward him. She rolls, falling behind a ridge to lie flat. She lines up her sights. She sees the colonel.
He’s mouthing to her. “Be ready! He’s coming this way.”
Shock troops fight and die a few yards away as a platoon of Republic infantry rushes them. They are outnumbered. The sky turns orange. Flames.
She counts…. Twenty, thirty-five, forty-nine troops remaining? It is getting too hot. Why are they here?
Someone throws something. A cloud of smoke erupts. Smoke grenade. She charges up the hill, falling to the ground in between two stones. The colonel is running up beside her.
She sets up her rifle, searching, searching... Where is he? The smoke clears. There’s her target. Her heart sinks. He’s a Jedi. A Jedi commander... Jedi. They were supposed to be guardians of light. Weren’t they? The colonel notices him late.
He points. “Take him out, take him out!”
Troopers scream as the Jedi cuts them down in wide sweeps. His eyes look dead. She lines up her sites.
Wait. It’s him. The one that saved Breams.
She hesitates. Nausea. Confusion. Bright light and pain.
“What are you waiting for! Kill him!” the colonel screams.
He’s coming up the hill.
“We’re being overrun!”
She pulls the trigger. The Jedi tumbles to the dirt. He died? Why didn’t he deflect it? Hands are pulling her. An empty helmet rolls at her feet.
“To your feet, you idiot!”
She stumbles. The ground opens up and swallows her. She gasps, breathing in the numbers. The men on the field. The casualties. Severed arms and legs. Shrapnel blasts. Blades of grass. Birds. Tangren. Recalculation of tactics, approaches, possibilities. Too many numbers.
I calculated wrong.
Something hits her in the face. Blackness.