A Death Goddess in Rage

Posted: January 17, 2014 by writingsprint in Science fiction
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , ,


“Valkyire” by thedurrrrian

Jeana fought wave after sickening wave of the dark ones. Killing them put them out of their misery – poor Jaesa wept with every one she fought – but it still sent death into the Well, feeding the demon. It had grown almost as large as a starship.

She stood around another field of bodies, blade humming, armor slick with black blood. The demon pulsed. Its veins reached into the earth. The Well erupted again. The sky turned red, then black, as the demon drew it in.

“It not working,” Jeana said. “There’s too much Dark power here. With the staff broken there’s nothing to siphon it with.”

Over the chaotic clatter of needler fire, there was one shot that Jeana felt – right through her belly, shattering into duralon teeth when it broke the skin.

No — not her. Raffa.

Her gaze whipped over to see. He went down. She saw him falling backwards, blasters waving, arms flopping in dead weight. She was so distracted that she didn’t even notice the Force saving her life twice. She blocked an axe attack from behind that should have cut her head open, then she ducked under a spear attack that impaled the axe wielder.

“Raff!” she screamed.

Jeana fought her way back to her friends. He looked bad. He looked really, really bad. Raff was completely pale. Blood was everywhere. She could see it coming out of the wound. His face was a rictus of pain, and every breath clawed inside him. She could feel it. Dr. Lokin was pumping him full of enough kolto to re-blood a rancor, but it wasn’t taking.

Jeana grabbed Raff’s hand. She called on the Force to heal him, do something. His hand was slack. “Raff. Look at me. Hang on, babe.”

Dr. Lokin was saying to someone, “There’s too much shrapnel. Everything that heals is getting cut open again. We have to get him out of here.”

Raff’s eyes were open. He was looking right at her. He even tried to smile. She could see it. But he didn’t say anything. She could feel him slipping away. She shook her head. She kept staring into Raff’s eyes. “No. God, no. Not you.” He kept looking back at her. He was afraid. He was trying to hold on. He felt like thinnest thread.

She felt a hand on her shoulder. Cartog. She shoved it off. “Jeana,” he said. “They’re gathering again. We need you.”

She ignored him. Lokin gave Cartog an expression that made her want to cut his head off. She could hear the roar getting louder. The wave was huge this time. Hundreds.

Cartog said, “Jeana, I’m sorry. There isn’t time.”

“You promised me,” she whispered to Raff. Dinner on Alderaan. Candles. Dancing under the stars, and hours… days, he’d said… of sweet love after. “You’re making good on that promise. Do you hear me?”

Cartog left her. She heard him giving orders through a fog of love and pain. The blasters opened up. Lokin broke out his emergency stasis unit. The blasters and pulse detonators rose to a roar. Lokin looked past her, to where the hungry flood came for them. “This’ll hold him for a while… but I don’t think it’s going to matter.”

Jeana let go of his hand. She stood. Jaesa felt it first. Then Raina. Both of them looked at Jeana.

Enough of peace. The planet would die. Her friends would die. She loved them too much to let the darkness consume them. Jeana could die bloody or die in her heart, so what did that matter?

She remembered her mother’s final fight. Jeana understood what she had fought for.

“No,” Jeana said, answering Dr Lokin. Her body quaked. She shook her head. “Not today.” Her hands clenched into fists. Red rage surged through her body, from her heart out through the tips of her fingers and toes.

“Master, no!!!” Jaesa shouted. Raina just screamed.

They still had one siphon that could draw the Dark Side of the Force.

Jeana screamed a sound that would have shaken the hearts of ten thousand warriors. She leaped backward through the air. Some of the others didn’t realize what they were seeing. Even Cartog thought it was a missile.

She struck the ground with the force of God’s own hammer. She landed on two dark ones, one foot each, and smashed them into paste. A pulse of Force power sent bodies flying.

Jeana roared. Her eyes flared blue. Every dark one within sight of her cowered or ran screaming.

Another rush of them came at her. She reached out her hand, choked them all, then threw their broken bodies into those behind them.

If the Light Side is life, then let me be death.

The power poured into her and flowed right back out in symphony of destruction. Blood ran in rivers. Jeana leaped from one side of the valley to the other, never letting them get close to her, her lightsaber cutting scissor slashes. She flung bodies with a wave of her hand, a death goddess in rage.

Every time more of them came, Jeana grew stronger. Their deaths fed her power now. Cartog and the others could barely even see her. She lost her lightsaber. It didn’t matter. Force power reached out beyond her body. By the time the last dark ones were falling, Jeana could feel the power of stars reaching into her. She lifted into the air. To the demon inside the Well, she was an angel sheathed Force light. It screamed at the sight of her.

Jeana flew into it at the speed of a hyperspace dart. Thunder cracked. She flew through it, slicing it in half, and struck the bottom of the Well. It exploded, then consumed itself. The demon’s death rattle vanished in a choking sound, that gradually faded away to nothing.

The Force power faded. Jeana stood at the bottom of the Well, feeling smaller and smaller. Whispers of the Force that felt like gratitude from the galaxy itself touched her ears.

She looked at her hands. She had drunk from the Well. Would she become demon, too?

That was something for Jedi healers to tell her. As she climbed, hand and foot, out of the shattered remains of the ancient structure, she felt only human.

This scene was inspired by one of my favorite scenes in scifi: River Tam fighting the reavers in Serenity. Jeana’s a Light Side Sith, but I wondered, what would make her use the Dark Side? She would do it to save someone she loved.

  1. Oo, that’s one of my favorite scenes as well. And I really like your story and protagonist.


    • Thanks! By the way, I finally figured out how to spot when you post in my Mail instead of the WordPress reader, which I never use, so I’ll be stopping by your blog more often :).

      This is how I pictured the end of a much larger story. One of these days I may write the rest of it. 🙂

      Cartog, Jeana and Raffa are the three characters I played in the video game “Star Wars: The Old Republic,” so I got to know them very well and got a lot of ideas from them. Jeana is a passionate knight — imagine a samurai who loves dance as well as being a warrior. Raffa’s like Han Solo, only he wears a slightly whiter hat. Part of the reason he loves Jeana is because her nobility gives him a reason to be a better man. Cartog is what you’d get if you swapped Daniel Craig with Jude Law in the new Bond movies, and then had him go rogue. He’s a charmer but tough as nails and he gets the job done.


  2. A.D. Everard says:

    I can see why you like this one so much! Powerful stuff. I love that their deaths fed her strength, like a channel of energy becoming an unstoppable force.

    Yes, you could do great things with this. 😀


    • Thanks! Jeana’s one of my favorite characters — strong, passionate, and brave. I was watching the video from Serenity and I could just see the battle unfolding. At first I thought, don’t worry, you’ll write it later. Then I thought, no, inspiration like this doesn’t come along often! You have to ride it! It hit me so hard that I was literally typing with tears in my eyes.


  3. […] haven’t when I’ve read them. I cried while writing this scene a few months […]


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