Title:
No Light Without Darkness
Prompt: Fanfic
**This is Star Wars fanfiction, so I don't exactly own the rights to any terms used in this story. This is part of a bigger fanfiction story that I plan to write. Also, this takes place in a coal mine on the deserts of Tatooine.**
A shrill scream pierced through the darkness of the mines. Mira’s scream. It was coming from the topmost level of the mine. Astra ran, almost shoving the other slaves out of her way. Some of them backed up to make way for her, for they knew that their attempt at rebelling against the slave master had failed.
She burst onto the top level, completely unnoticed by all, where Lumena and Mira were. Mira was lying on the ground, panting heavily. Lumena, with a tender, sisterly look on her face, was kneeling over her.
“What happened?” asked Astra, trying not to scream.
“Chip,” panted Mira.
“Wha—oh,” realized Astra. All of the slaves had chips implanted in the back of their necks. If they disobeyed, or went too far from the mine, the chips exploded, killing them. “If that’s the case…” she trailed off.
Lumena sighed. That meant yes.
Anger drives the mind to do unwise things, to make the offender repent. These actions never work, and ultimately leads to one’s own demise. It brings you down because the mist of anger in your mind obscures all wise action. It brings you down because you do not listen to that still, small voice within.
And this is exactly what Lumena did.
Hoisting herself up with a weary determination in her eyes and picking up her pickaxe, she did the very last thing that Astra expected her to do.
She charged toward the slave master, pickaxe in hand and anger in her eyes. Anger for him having killed her sister. Anger for taking the one whom she loved away from her.
Lumena was closer now. Three feet. Two. One. She raised her pickaxe above her head, ready to strike the slave master –
And was met by the whip lashing out and snaking around her pickaxe, yanking it out of her hands.
The slave master laughed with an evil tone that sent shivers down Astra’s spine. “You. Little brat. You think you could’ve taken me down with that pick?” he said, still cackling, this remark being addressed at Lumena.
“You killed my sister!” shouted Lumena angrily, her clear blue eyes aflame with determination to bring down this cruel individual who had kept her and two thousand more hostage for all of her life. “Now you have to pay for all this – ” she pointed at the dead slaves, at least a hundred of them lying on the ground; Astra, kneeling by Mira, who was still barely alive and fighting for her last breaths – “all this that you have done. Even if I have to give my own life to save theirs.”
The slave master looked around the mine, quaking with anger. “Then you will die,” he growled, raising his whip again.
Astra tried to turn her attention back to Mira, still gasping for breath, in so much pain. She tried not to look back at Lumena, bracing herself for excruciating pain.
But she couldn’t.
And then, it happened. It passed quickly, but it felt like forever to Astra.
Lumena, crying out in pain.
Astra, through the blur of tears, trying to make her way over, to try to save her. She threw herself between Lumena and the slave master – her soft brown eyes suddenly sharp, her long, wavy brown hair flying behind her – and then she did the last thing anyone expected.
“Stop! Please!” she cried, raising her right hand.
The slave master, shocked at the conduct that a seemingly docile seven-year-old slave showed him, dropped his whip. He picked it up, gave Astra a withering look of extreme contempt, and walked away, visibly shaking.
There. That was done.
“Come on, Lumena,” Astra pleaded with her motionless, but breathing, sister.
“I can’t move,” croaked Lumena. “Move me. To Mira.”
Although seven, Astra’s strong, capable arms could carry very heavy loads, but still had trouble with Lumena. She half-lifted, half-dragged her over to where Mira lay – still, miraculously, alive.
With the strength she had left, Lumena clasped Mira’s hand. “Together then,” she said. Mira nodded, too weak to say anything.
Sometimes, the slaves’ chips were misplaced, leading to a messy kill, and therefore, those victims could stay alive, albeit in pain, a while longer. Mira was one of those people, and, as a pinprick of light out of the darkness, came Astra’s gratitude that she was alive a while longer.
After a period of silence Lumena whispered, “
Portia Libertad.” Open the door to freedom.
“What… What do you mean?” asked Astra.
“You need to lead everyone on. To freedom.”
“H-How?” Astra stuttered. “I can’t. I’m only seven.”
“You have the ability to do so. I know you. You will do it.”
Another few minutes of silence passed. Minutes of thought for Astra. Minutes of waiting for death for Mira and Lumena.
And then, Mira spoke.
“Can we sing?”
So they sang the only song they knew. It was the song they sang before they tried to escape. The song that had led to the deaths of Mira and Lumena. The song that gave Astra hope.
Out of dark, out of doubt, to the day’s arising
Comes Liberty, her sword unsheathing
To cut men free from bondage chain
That freedom may come forever to reign.
And then, as if they had planned it, Lumena and Mira drew their last breaths, and then were never again to be seen in this world.
Astra’s world, then, was plunged into darkness. She was supposed to free two thousand slaves. By herself. How, though? She felt so terrible that she wanted to trap herself in one of the tunnels and then starve to death. That would be infinitely better than taking all this on.
Surrender is the key to victory. The words flashed into her mind. Then she remembered a way that she could help them. She had a tool, kept secret from everyone except Mira and Lumena.
And, suddenly, the paths were before her. Liberty or death. Joy or sorrow. The choice was hers.
So, Astra chose freedom.
