Star Wars: Edge of the Empire

Vignette: Best Served Cold

“Ow! Watch it,” she exclaimed as the medical droid clumsily worked at her arm, if you could call it that. The woman watched as sparks flew each time the needle-like mechanism interacted with the metal that was now a part of her.

There was nothing to do in the hours of sitting in that chair while that ridiculous robot rebuilt a limb for the woman. Sure, there were moments of searing pain as the cybernetic appendage was fused with her shoulder, her flesh stretched and stapled and soldered to something foreign, something that didn’t belong. However it was the time in between, the long, drawn out aching of her body as it endured the stress of surgery and recovery that she had nothing but time to reflect on how this happened.

She grew up on Alderaan, to a noble family. Her Uncle was such an idealist and would regale their family with tales of the Jedi and their noble quest to maintain peace in the galaxy. The way he went on and on about their courage but then glossed over their betrayal, their failed coup, their annihilation made her sick. Even at a young age, she knew the Jedi were wrong. Their sterile outlook and dogmatic approach, their willingness to stand by and watch the galaxy suffer until their own survival was at stake disgusted her.

The black bantha among her family, she proudly joined the Imperial Navy and had a distinguished career. That was ruined by the Jedi her Uncle so revered.

So here she was, gritting her teeth and tearing at the eyes as her nervous system integrates with the cybernetic arm and pain signals a reminder that this was not right. This was so wrong.

She’ll never forget that woman’s face, the way the glow of her light saber reflected on her cheek before she cut down a good soldier, a proud woman, and left her broken aboard a pirate infested cruise ship.

Rising and flexing her cold metal fingers, she looks over at the figure cloaked in dark robes at the door and accepts the data pad with her new orders.

“Sir,” she accepts with a nod. A grin spreads across her face as she crushes the datapad in her cybernetic hand like it was a dry leaf from the forests of Alderaan.

“”/characters/major-katryn-organa" class=“wiki-content-link”>Major Katryn Organa, reporting for duty."