SWTOR ficlet: The Force is Overrated
Dec. 3rd, 2018 11:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ladykfThis was based off something that the Smuggler says when you're playing. If you want to hear the voice clip, the Tumblr post is here.
Once upon a time, had you asked the little initiate she’d been, the young Corellian would have never been able to imagine a life without the Force as her constant companion.
But then came Czerka, and it didn’t matter if the branch that kidnapped her was officially sanctioned in their experiments to isolate the ability to use the Force - in the end, they took it away from her. Those short months were an eternity to little Saare, filled with fear and pain any time the drugs wore off enough to feel at all. The things they did… in the end, she supposed she was glad she couldn’t remember. Reading it in the files was horrible enough, and she always saw raw anger in her brother’s eyes when he thought of it.
They took her back to Corellia, to recover with the aid of the healers at the enclave, and they did their best. But she came out changed - how could she not? They’d been in her brain, and she developed a habit of touching the implant they’d had to put in on her forehead whenever she thought about it. She could still feel the Force - a miracle, she understood that much - but it was bittersweet because she couldn’t touch it. It was just out of reach, and the only time she used it was when she was pushed to lashing out.
The Council on Coruscant considered ways to place her, to serve the order still, but she declined. She’d never even made it to being a padawan, and without the ability to use the Force they could hardly protest. She went back to Corellia, back to her family, the people who had never given up on her, who had done what they could on their own and supported her brother, who had found her in the end.
She wasn’t the same, she knew that. There wasn’t any thought of a possibility to become a Jedi, but she didn’t know what to do with herself. She learned how to fight out of necessity, but she didn’t want to join CorSec. In the end, it was the return of her one companion in captivity that helped her find a direction.
HK-51 was an assassin droid, and compassion was not in his coding. Loyalty, however, was, and he tracked her down. Sahare, he called her at first, a reminder of when she could barely pronounce her own name… and she decided she’d keep it. Saare was gone with the Force, but Sahare… she could be Sahare.
Sahare ended up being good with a blaster, an adept field medic, a fantastic mechanic and above all, an ace pilot. She worked at the family shipyard and began saving for a ship of her own. When she finally managed enough funds to buy her own XS Freighter, it needed extensive work and she spent years pouring time and credits into its restoration and customizing.
It paid off, and she threw one hell of a party, ready to christen her new vessel the Turhaya, her shining star. If it was a reference to her father calling her the same thing once, no one called her on it. For all that she’d lost, Sahare Carmine finally carved out a life for herself, and the galaxy was hers to travel.
Once upon a time, had you asked the little initiate she’d been, the young Corellian would have never been able to imagine a life without the Force as her constant companion.
But then came Czerka, and it didn’t matter if the branch that kidnapped her was officially sanctioned in their experiments to isolate the ability to use the Force - in the end, they took it away from her. Those short months were an eternity to little Saare, filled with fear and pain any time the drugs wore off enough to feel at all. The things they did… in the end, she supposed she was glad she couldn’t remember. Reading it in the files was horrible enough, and she always saw raw anger in her brother’s eyes when he thought of it.
They took her back to Corellia, to recover with the aid of the healers at the enclave, and they did their best. But she came out changed - how could she not? They’d been in her brain, and she developed a habit of touching the implant they’d had to put in on her forehead whenever she thought about it. She could still feel the Force - a miracle, she understood that much - but it was bittersweet because she couldn’t touch it. It was just out of reach, and the only time she used it was when she was pushed to lashing out.
The Council on Coruscant considered ways to place her, to serve the order still, but she declined. She’d never even made it to being a padawan, and without the ability to use the Force they could hardly protest. She went back to Corellia, back to her family, the people who had never given up on her, who had done what they could on their own and supported her brother, who had found her in the end.
She wasn’t the same, she knew that. There wasn’t any thought of a possibility to become a Jedi, but she didn’t know what to do with herself. She learned how to fight out of necessity, but she didn’t want to join CorSec. In the end, it was the return of her one companion in captivity that helped her find a direction.
HK-51 was an assassin droid, and compassion was not in his coding. Loyalty, however, was, and he tracked her down. Sahare, he called her at first, a reminder of when she could barely pronounce her own name… and she decided she’d keep it. Saare was gone with the Force, but Sahare… she could be Sahare.
Sahare ended up being good with a blaster, an adept field medic, a fantastic mechanic and above all, an ace pilot. She worked at the family shipyard and began saving for a ship of her own. When she finally managed enough funds to buy her own XS Freighter, it needed extensive work and she spent years pouring time and credits into its restoration and customizing.
It paid off, and she threw one hell of a party, ready to christen her new vessel the Turhaya, her shining star. If it was a reference to her father calling her the same thing once, no one called her on it. For all that she’d lost, Sahare Carmine finally carved out a life for herself, and the galaxy was hers to travel.
