Star Wars: Darth Hassan

The blue-skinned Twi'lek crouched at the edge of the cliff. Below her lay the sun-scorched earth, sprinkled with the traces of suicides. Their bodies had been dragged away by Tusken Raiders, and their blood had been swallowed by the ground, like the only drink in this desert of death. Many poor souls, martyrs, and bankrupt businessmen came here to end their lives. For some, the immense height of the canyon sobered them up. The fear of death outweighed their other problems—in that moment, in that instant, the would-be suicides realized that life wasn't so bad after all. They turned around and walked away. They were too cowardly to take their own lives, but the brush with death gave them a reason to keep going.

The last ones weren't so lucky. The realization of life's mercy came to them too late, as they were already hurtling headfirst into the abyss of death. They flailed in the air, waving their arms and legs in an instinctive desire to live. But they had no power to defeat death… Ordinary inhabitants of the galaxy are defenseless against gravity. Death is merciful to the brave and merciless to the weak-spirited. Death sends visions of the past to the suicides falling headfirst—happy moments from childhood and youth—to prove to them that life isn't so bad.

In the canyon between the towering giants, an old ship lay hidden. Its appearance was no different from the ones parked at the resellers' lots. Such models were usually used by pirates, smugglers, or mercenaries to conquer space. But certainly not Sith Lords. She might have understood if there was a starfighter parked nearby, in the canyon or above, but there wasn't. Except for someone's landspeeder parked near the edge of the cliff. Most likely, it belonged either to the informant's agent or to Darth Hassan himself.

With these thoughts, she placed a small bug under the bumper, then paused. Surely, their meeting was in full swing right now. She could have tried to eavesdrop on their conversation, or she could act smarter. Rather than dealing with a dangerous opponent, the Twi'lek planned to interrogate the agent, assuming the landspeeder belonged to him. After the meeting, the bug would lead her straight to him, and torture would quickly loosen his tongue…

If the landspeeder belonged to Hassan, then the bug would reveal his secret hideout. The location of the enemy's base was valuable information that would certainly satisfy Dooku. Yes, that's exactly what she would do. There was no point in jumping down to the ship for another reason. The whole situation reeked of a trap. Yes, it was most likely a trap, but when she approached the landspeeder, no one intercepted her. Around the canyon were sandy hills and small elevations from which she could be easily ambushed, yet there was no one around. Either the enemies in ambush weren't planning to attack, or they weren't there at all.

The girl straightened up. Better not to risk it. The landspeeder would still be a good lead for her, so it was better to retreat for now. The Sith was confident in her abilities—a few Jedi Knights wouldn't be a problem for her—but a Sith Lord was a completely different level, one she wasn't ready for yet. She turned around and… froze. From below came the roar of the old ship's engines starting up, engines that had been revived more than once. The Sith slowly turned back to the canyon, looked into the crevice, and realized the ship was preparing to take off.

However, the agent or Hassan wasn't in a hurry to come out, as if they had reached an agreement and were now leaving together as partners. Or perhaps Hassan had simply killed the unwanted one. In any case, the plan with the landspeeder had already failed. Neither of them was planning to leave the ship, making it harder to track them, so the landspeeder was just a decoy for spies. What was left for the infiltrator? Of course, to jump to the ship and plant a bug on it before it took off.

Unlike ordinary inhabitants of the universe, Jedi and Sith aren't afraid of heights. The Twi'lek boldly jumped down. Her face tensed, but not from fear of heights. What she feared most was disappointing her teacher, fearing severe punishment. If she let this ship slip away now, it was unlikely she'd get another chance to find Hassan. The acolyte had entered the snake's den—she felt it especially well when she landed safely on the ground. From below, the old ship looked somewhat intimidating. Her entire being sensed a strange danger, as if something could happen at any moment. Could she retreat now? Retreating was akin to losing, and Dooku and the Dark Side of the Force did not tolerate defeat.

The spy quietly approached the ship with its open landing gear. She wasn't planning to enter through the main entrance; she just needed to plant the bug before the ship took off, then take a safe position. As she approached the landing struts, her hand reached for another bug from her belt to attach it to the most inconspicuous spot, but in the next moment, an invisible force clamped down on her body like a vice. The pressure made it hard for the Twi'lek to breathe, while her eyes darted around frantically, trying to find the source of the Force.

However, a moment later, the invisible Force dragged the captive straight into the ship. She didn't even have time to scream before her legs lost their footing, and she was dragged across the ground into the wide-open entrance…

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

"Well, hello, Sha'a."

Donita shuddered. The invisible vise retreated, leaving behind an unpleasant phantom pain. The cold steel floor tried to comfort the beauty, but the extreme anxiety couldn't be so easily dispelled. Sha'a slowly raised her head, not daring to stand, and saw a man lounging casually in a chair, one leg crossed over the other, wearing a cracked mirror mask. His long black cloak almost completely concealed his figure, except for the armored boots of her captor, and the mask… The mask immediately caught her attention.

Thin lines ran across its polished surface, clearly reflecting the Sith lying at his feet, her face resembling more of a frightened, cornered dog. Her own pitiful appearance pierced her already vulnerable heart, so she immediately looked away, at the same time feeling for her lightsaber under her cloak. Touching the familiar hilt, Donita managed to calm down a bit, though she still didn't dare look at his cracked mask.

"Didn't Dooku teach you manners?"—the chair creaked.

Blue fingers tightened around the lightsaber. How had she ended up in this situation? Of course, as she had thought, it was a trap, and she had fallen right into it, but how could an apprentice Sith have known that Hassan could influence her with the Force without visual contact?! It was like tearing apart a bedroom without leaving the kitchen stove! Hassan was strong. He truly deserved the title of Darth, but she couldn't afford to falter. Darth Hassan had killed Sev'rance Tann, the Count's most talented apprentice, as painful as it was to admit, which meant he would kill her too. If he had wanted to turn Dooku's followers to his side, he would have started with Sev'rance, who wasn't here.

How could she get out of this situation? Of course, she had to attack first! Despite her considerable Force abilities, using them required concentration. Considering that he had caught her outside while being inside the ship, the Sith Lord had expended a lot of energy for such a spectacular trick. This meant he was at his most vulnerable right now. Even his casual posture suggested he didn't expect resistance from the captive. She would show him how wrong he was.

"Forgive my tactlessness,"—Sha'a rose to one knee.

Only to leap sharply at the masked man from a new, more convenient position, simultaneously illuminating the ship's central cabin with red light. The female face in the cracked mirror twisted in rage. Rage, hatred—they fueled the Sith's body but poisoned the mind. She intended to either pierce her enemy with her saber or at least force him to retreat, giving herself a chance to escape hastily. Hassan didn't even flinch, continuing to sit in his chair.

"Did he underestimate her? Rage flared up with renewed vigor, completely dispelling fear. The enemy wasn't moving; he hadn't reacted at all to the captive's leap, which meant she could definitely pierce him with her saber! Sha'a grinned with satisfaction as the saber shot straight toward his chest. Yes, she wasn't as strong as Sev'rance, but the Chiss's death had played into her hands—Darth Hassan had completely stopped seeing any threat in Dooku's apprentices. But Hassan didn't need to dodge or even draw his own sabers. Instead of unnecessary movements, he simply waved his hand to deflect the strike.

He waved it off as if swatting away a pesky buzzing insect.

A wave of Force slammed into Donita's body, pinning her to the ship's ceiling, from which she fell back to the floor in the same spot where she had been.

"Kha-ah!"

Everything swam before her eyes. Her head buzzed, and her bones, especially her ribs, ached. Everything had happened so fast that her thoughts were tangled into a ball of fear and horror. Her fingers no longer felt the familiar touch of her saber's metal hilt, plunging her into even greater despair. Writhing in pain, she tried to focus her vision to find the lightsaber. Her dominant hand fumbled around in a desperate attempt to find the life-saving hilt. Her vision returned to normal, her thoughts somewhat ordered, and the pounding of her frightened heart echoed in her ears. Sha'a hadn't fully processed what had happened, but most likely, Hassan had simply pushed her away with a Force Wave, the most basic Force technique.

"You're all the same,"—he spoke calmly yet frighteningly, the one who should never be underestimated. "The difference between apprentices and masters is vast. It's not just about experience and skills, but also mental abilities. Masters have learned to control themselves, while you haven't yet,"—Hassan twirled her lightsaber in his hand.

Sha'a pursed her lips bitterly. Apparently, when he had pushed her away with the Force Wave, he had also managed to pull her lightsaber toward him. In simple terms, he had not only prevented her attack but also disarmed her.

"Go on, try again."

Another wave of his hand. The invisible Force enveloped the Twi'lek's body and set her on her feet, like a toy doll he was playing with. Her feet found solid ground. Sha'a wasn't planning to fight anymore. What was the point of fighting a powerful Sith while unarmed? It would only play into his hands, making her a compliant new toy. But then Hassan unexpectedly tossed the captured lightsaber back to the captive, which she managed to catch. The girl looked fearfully at Darth Hassan, who continued to lounge in his chair, waiting for her to make a move.

The Sith's arrogance infuriated Donita. Her own weakness also infuriated her. It seemed that fear should breed hatred. Hatred fuels the rage and strength of a Dark Side follower. Shouldn't she be charging into battle right now, driven by intoxicating power? No, she couldn't. Not because she understood the folly of the idea, but because she was afraid. She was terrified to her bones, to the tips of her lekku, of the figure in the cracked mirror mask, which reflected her pitiful, cowardly expression. She was disgusted to look at herself, to realize that she wasn't so strong in spirit… But not all Force users had to be strong-hearted. In that case, no Jedi would ever fall to the Dark Side.

"Sev'rance was braver. Unlike you, even though she understood her weakness, she always attacked when I turned my back. You disgust me,"—he said with particular affection. "You can go."

Catching onto his last words, Sha'a looked questioningly at Hassan and saw her own face in his mask, filled with hope, which instantly vanished. He was toying with her, while the mask completely reflected her reactions to his manipulations.

"I said, you can go. I don't want to waste my time on a pathetic, weak-willed, and worthless coward,"—blue fingers tightened around the saber hilt. "You're a disgrace to the entire Sith Order. I have no idea what Dooku was thinking when he took you as his apprentice. Probably, he wanted to turn you into Sev'rance's obedient little dog, because you're absolutely nothing on your own. You don't have Sev'rance's strength, her character, or her willpower. You're a nobody, just a tool for Dooku, which he just sent to slaughter. But you're lucky I'm not planning to dance to the old fart's tune, so leave before I change my mind."

But Sha'a didn't move. Lowering her head, she trembled. Not from the joy of salvation, but from anger, resentment, and indignation. Yes, she was weak. She wasn't as smart as Sev'rance, not as confident as her, so Donita always acted carefully and attacked from the shadows. Was she satisfied with this? No! She craved power! She no longer wanted to hear about her weakness! And she would no longer allow anyone to compare her to SEV'RANCE TANN! The girl raised a murderous gaze at Hassan, completely ignoring her reflection in the mask, activated her lightsaber, and growled like a beast.

All-consuming rage pushed fear, horror, and reason to the background. The Sith apprentice lunged at the Dark Lord, who simply pushed his hand forward.

Instantly, a Force Wave slammed into the girl, throwing her back. She crashed into the metal wall with her back, leaving a large dent, and slowly slid to the floor with a vacant stare. Blood trickled from the corner of her lips, and then her eyelids fluttered and…

"Pfeh! Kheh!"—she coughed violently, spitting blood.

What had she been thinking? Honestly, the Twi'lek herself didn't know. She didn't even know what to think now. Her body wasn't just in pain—it was on fire. Broken bones shattered further, ribs pierced internal organs, and her chest barely rose—she couldn't breathe properly. Every attempt to draw air filled her mind, body, and soul with the agony of approaching death. Death, which she didn't want to face, because like any other being in the universe, Sha'a also wanted to live.

"Alright, since you didn't want to leave peacefully,"—Darth Hassan deigned to rise from his chair, "though I gave you a chance,"—he approached the girl. "Let's talk about Dooku's plans,"—and crouched beside her. In the mask, she saw her beaten self with bloodshot eyes, her chin resembling more of a crimson waterfall. "If you answer all my questions, I'll heal you and let you go. We'll pretend we never met, okay? Believe me, it's within my power to heal you."

What could she say? Nothing. Sha'a could barely breathe, let alone form words and sentences, which would cause her unbearable pain. It seemed more like Hassan wanted to torment the already nearly dead captive, who was already feeling the icy touch of death. But she was too tired. She was tired of enduring this agony, so she would obediently answer all the questions to hasten her death and dissolve into the Force.

"What were you trying to negotiate with the Hutt?"

"M… Kh… Rout… Outer… Kha! Khe! Khe!"—a painful, bloody cough prevented her from finishing. "Mi… ra…"

"Your goal was the Outer Rim routes? The negotiations failed, but why did you stay on Tatooine? Did Dooku order you to spy on me?"

"Fin… Pf… Hassan…"—slowly, a white fog began to cloud Sha'a's vision. "And… son… Hut…"

"Jabba the Hutt's son? Is Dooku planning to pressure the slug through him?"—this was more of a rhetorical question, given the nature of the Sith.

"…"—her gaze became distant, and her body slowly relaxed. Life was leaving her body too quickly.

"I grant you one last chance,"—on the brink of death, her fading consciousness caught the Sith Lord's words and the touch of something cold to her lips. "And one last piece of advice,"—suddenly, a strange feeling literally yanked her departing spirit back from the afterlife. The white veil fell from her eyes, and she saw her reflection in Hassan's mask again—no longer barely alive, but mortally weakened. "Dooku won't forgive your failure. I didn't kill Sev'rance Tann; in fact, he allowed me to kill her. If he valued you, he wouldn't have let me do it. Before it's too late, leave, disappear somewhere on the outskirts of the galaxy, and never get involved in the Clone Wars. Even geniuses like Sev'rance aren't immune to death, let alone you. You've already tasted death, so the taste of life should be even sweeter for you. Or you can return to Dooku and continue to be his tool,"—Hassan straightened up, "but when he gets rid of you, no one will remember or mourn you. The choice is yours."

"Khm…"—delirious from the sudden resurrection, Sha'a almost lost consciousness. "Take…"—but she managed to grab his cloak and say, "as an apprentice…"

"I don't take third-rate ignoramuses as apprentices,"—Hassan yanked his cloak from her fingers, then pulled her lightsaber toward him. "Next time, I'll take your head. Don't forget that."

With those final words, strength completely left the exhausted, humiliated Sha'a. Would she return to Dooku or disappear from the radar of war and start a new life?