- Joined
- May 31, 2016
- Messages
- 960
- Reaction score
- 1,398
What does it mean, to be free?
This question has forever lingered in the back of Anastasia's mind. Years ago, she would have told you that freedom is living without boundaries. That, only through the unhindered expression of one's own beliefs without interference from society can an individual claim inner peace. By breaking away from accepted societal conscience and living a life removed from the galaxy, Anastasia learned a great many things, but never found the weightlessness she believes exists in true freedom. Ana's life was, and still is, the quest for an answer.
Long before the galaxy was stricken with grief and fear wrought by the dark Jedi, the nomads of Jakku crossed the endless desert from oasis to oasis. Their lives at the mercy of the elements, continually on the move from each life-giving pool of water with the changing of the seasons. Into this nomadic existence Anastasia was born. Home was a tent made of vibrant colors with a floor made of woven rugs and large pillows. It was a space that never existed in a singe place for more than a few weeks at a time. Perhaps this is what caused the restlessness in her heart.
From a young age, Ana found herself connected to the world in a greater sense than some. She felt the emotions of her parents, she sensed the pain of animals which the tribe killed for sustenance, and on dark nights when the moons of the desert planet cast only a faint glow, if she concentrated hard enough, she could navigate the rocky terrain without the use of sight, and often did so. Her days were spent caring for the luggabeasts used by the tribe to transport their goods and other simple chores. Nights were often the only time when Ana could experience life on her own accord.
Ana's mother, Namara, was the village apothecary. On their travels, she would collect the roots, stems, and leaves of plants that could survive the harsh sun, and the minerals of the earth. "The ground is capable of giving life, but only if it is worthy of surviving." She once told her daughter, looking into Anastasia's golden brown eyes. "By taking these roots, I may have killed the tree, but through us, it lives on, in our own survival."
So too did Amán influence Ana's life. He was a shepherd, and a hunter, but beyond that he would always be the kind-hearted father that Anastasia looked up to.
Ana's true father passed away during a stampede caused by a thunderstorm, and although her mother was stricken with grief, she married Amán several months later when Ana was just three years old. The couple shared a strong bond, and Amán always treated Anastasia as though she were his own daughter.
Ana would always help pack up their dwelling when it came time to move, often roding on the same luggabeast as her father until the age of nine when she could control one of the large creatures without assistance. During these long rides, the two of them would share many conversations. Amán taught her about their religion, and why the keeping of tenants and one's morality was very important. "Your life is like a seed" He would say. "If you water it with pure clean water it will thrive and grow in strength, able to withstand any conditions, but if you take from a source of polluted water it will wither and struggle."
Upon reaching the age of thirteen, Ana received her tattoos. Within the tribe, this meant that she was no longer a child. She would no longer be required to assist her parents if she chose not to, could own her own possessions, and even choose a husband should she choose to accept a suitor. By galactic standards, this age was quite young, but in the harsh conditions of the desert members of the tribe rarely lived to be over fifty.
Ana relished this new independence, but she soon found that life was very much the same. Caring for her self was no more difficult then it had been before, and she still aided her parents from time to time. Learning healing remedies from her mother and skills like hunting and trapping from her father.
The nomads lived a life of subsistence, but would occasionally trade with townships for good that they could not otherwise procure themselves.
It was on one such occasion that Anastasia's life would forever be altered.
The tribe arrived at Orkoon Hub shortly after Ana's fifteenth year. The city built of sand and mud was one of very few space ports on the surface, and the tribe sought to buy several hunting rifles vastly superior to their primitive weapons, and lanterns powered not by fire, but some other fuel which cast a brilliant constant light-electricity.
They arrived at nightfall, with plans to do trading in the morning, and leave the city by dusk the following day. Ana however, grew restless. Her eyes gazing up at the fabric ceiling of her tent, the anticipation of what excitement awaited in the city became unbearable, and not long after everyone had settled in for the night, she set off towards the city lights. Most of the market was closed, but several bars remained open, and driven by curiosity, Ana stepped into the smoke filled cantina. There, she met a friendly group of spacers who were amused by the girl's barrage of questions about life outside the planet and traveling the galaxy. They even offered her a glass Knockback Nectar out of a crude jug. Ana did not recognize the drink at first, but soon surmised that is was one that the tribal elders used in their rituals, and said that it gave them, "visions". No other tribe members were allowed to partake of the alcoholic drinks as it was against one of their many tenets.
Anastasia remembered how the liquid burned when it passed her lips, but she could not help but experience a sense of joy and freedom through making her own choices. Why should she be denied experiences which others could share?
Rather inebriated, Ana talked into the long hours of the night, listening to the jokes and rants of her newfound companions. Her eyes however, lingered on one of the deckhands. A young man named Harris.
Late in the early morning, most of the other shipmates had either turned in, or passed out around the table. Leaving just Anastasia, Harris, and two others engaged in conversation about something called spice. Harris told the girl he was from a desert planet as well, one with two suns and three moons. He explained that he had joined the crew to make his own way in life and that they were like the family he never had. Anastasia listened intently as he told her stories of their adventures. The places they had been and the people they had met, captivated by every word, and at the end of the night, she shared her first kiss.
Come morning, Harris told her that the crew had to leave. The ship was packed and they had to deliver supplies to a place called Jedha City.
Heartbroken and hungover, Anastasia stumbled into the tribal camp in a stupor. The village elders soon heard tale of what she had done, and when they did they scolded the teen harshly. Marking her forehead with a symbol of disgrace. A permanent reminder never to break the tenets. When the tribe went into town that day Anastasia did not follow, instead, sat in her tent and wept, questioning why something that had felt so right could be viewed as sacrilege.
Once more, under the cover of darkness, Anastasia crept out of her tent, carrying with her only the clothes on her back, her shepard's cane, and a small portion of dried jerky. The tribe's guard, who had been watching over their heard of animals, caught her, but before he could ask any questions or raise alarm, Anastasia knocked him unconscious, and ran off towards Orkoon Hub.
There, she waited in the markets and saloons, hoping to find a ship headed for the city Harris had spoke of.
It took more than two weeks, during which Anastasia would have starved if not for her trapping skills. The teen managed to survive on the small vermin who fed off trash and dung in the street, cooking them over a small campfire outside of town.
She listened intently for any news of Jedha, blocking out all other sounds with concentration, focusing solely on the conversations of passers by. When the time came, she stowed away on an old freighter, and the sight of the Holy City was something she would never forget.
A bustling hub of commerce, politics, and religion, Ana soaked up all the sights Jedha had to offer. She had hoped to find her lover amidst the crowds of course, but even she realized that this was a foolish notion. They were like two grains of sand drifting among the dunes, perhaps destined to never touch again.
Ana found it difficult adjusting to city life. She resorted to petty thievery in order to survive, but felt immense guilt, as she had broken yet another tenet.
Eventually a shopkeeper took pity on her, and after finding out that she knew how to sew and knit quite well, the elderly woman allowed her to sleep in a back room and earn a modest wage helping her create various clothes. A skill Ana had learned from her mother. Whenever she could, Ana would pay back the shopkeepers she had stolen from during her first few weeks, reverse pickpocketing them or placing the coins somewhere only they would know to look.
This did not last for long however, as after two months of service to the old seamstress Anastasia witnessed a brutal and cruel act.
After purchasing some exotic fruit at the market as a treat, Ana was in quite the happy mood, smiling to herself as she walked back towards the shop to begin another afternoon's work when a voice caught her attention. Barely audible over the loud din of the city's commerce, it was as if she had sensed the being's intentions, and was drawn towards a distant alleyway.
"Did you think we would just forget about the shipment you lost on Ord Mantell?"
Hissed the voice in a clearly threatening tone.
"No one crosses my boss, and no one gets off without paying their debt. You've got three seconds to hand me the keys to your ship. We both know you don't have anything else left."
Ana quickened her pace, running at a full sprint.
"T-there's a stash of kyber under the floorboards of my house. I'll give you all that and any credits I have!"
Whimpered a second voice.
"Where's the ship Darren!?"
Demanded the first voice. Ana could feel the man's anger.
"I-I don't have it. I'm barely making ends meet I-"
Ana rounded the corner of the alley, just in time to see the merc grab the debtor's arm, and in one swift motion, sever it completely with a serrated vibrosword. The sound was so familiar yet sickening, just like the animals she had seen slaughtered on Jakku.
A flood of emotions hit her, the merc's satisfaction, the debtors pain, and her own disbelief of what she had just witnessed.
To this day Ana is not sure whether it was justice or rage that motivated her in that instant, but without hesitation, she rushed forward, driving her wooden staff into the left temple of the triumphant merc, as the debtor lay there bleeding on the ground. Almost instantly the impact brought the paid killer to the ground, but to ensure that he remained unconscious, Ana struck his skull once more. She then turned her attention to the debtor who lay in a pool of his own blood, a blaster pistol in his trembling hand. Ana saw what his eyes were fixed on and even as she opened her mouth to scream for him to stop, the first shot rang out. Then another, and another.
Smoking holes lay in the mercs side, and as she stood above the two men, tears streaming down her face, Ana realized she had just helped someone commit a murder. Never before had she felt so lost, so distraught.
Her hands shaking, Ana pressed them against the man's grizzled limb in an effort to stop the bleeding, but watched helplessly as the stream of crimson liquid continued to spurt fourth. With no one else but the brown eyed teen in sight, the debtor told her about his stash of crystals, saying that the Cartel would just come to confiscate anything he had of value. The warmth against Ana's hands subsided, yet the debtor's eyes remained open. Hauntingly staring into her own even after he had passed on.
Ana fled the scene, and Jedha City itself. Feeling as though even if she did find Harris, she didn't deserve his love, not anymore. Another tenet broken. Another bit of her self-lost.
Anastasia wandered the desert. The plants and animals that inhabited it were foreign, and she struggled once more to merely survive. Not much remained of the girl that had grown up on Jakku. Time had shaped her into something else. She wanted to do more than just survive, she wanted to live. To help those who had become lost, just like herself.
She made her way back to the Holy City, no longer afraid of ridicule, her heart burning with a passion to do what she felt was right, no longer governed by the tenets she had lived by. Returning to life as a thief, she stole from criminals and killers who made their living by hurting others who they perceived as weak. The now seventeen year old Ana never killed during this time, but on more than one occasion she was caught and suffered consequences while escaping.
Word of the vigilante spread through some social circles, and one night, Anastasia awoke to find a hand pressed against her mouth. Above her stood a figure, shrouded by a hood. Silently signaling her to be quiet before removing his palm and allowing her to breathe once more, not quite giving her enough time to react violently. He didn't speak much, but the few words that he did say were enough to convince Anastasia to follow him.
The cloaked man lead her into a section of the Old City. When they reached the end of an alley that looked the same as every other that they had passed through, he began to scale one of the dwellings. At first, Ana was apprehensive, but as she judged the man's current feelings through her senses, she did not detect anything malicious, and followed suit. At the top of the structure carved of sandstone, the man jumped down into a chimney, sliding into the darkness below. Ana too, took the plunge, and hit the sandy floor quite hard when she came out of a chute at the bottom.
She was greeted by many other figures, each cloaked in a hooded robe, though their designs were distinctly different. So much so that she could never have pointed out any single one of them in a crowd. Their garments made colors and patterns that she saw on passers by in markets all throughout the city.
"When you envision a perfect world, what is it that you see?"
Asked the man who had woken her.
Ana was silent for the longest time, to a point where she was certain that they would demand an answer. But all the figures stood steadfast. Awaiting her answer.
"I see..unhindered truth."
"A place where...all beings can experience their own lives. Without having to fear persecution. A place where choice is more than just listening to those who wield great weapons and tell pretty lies."
Answered the girl.
"What if I told you that we are the voice of truth."
Said the man.
"That we remove corruption. Just as you do. In order to help others make their own decisions. Just as you have. So I ask you, are you willing to risk your life to make this city a better place?"
The girl's brown eyes met the hood of the man.
"Only if I am to know your truth as well. Remove your hood."
The man's hands reached up towards his obscured face, and as he did so, so too did the six others who stood beside him.
Anastasia would come to know them as the guardians, for they had no formal name. Sometime ago in the city's past, a small branch of the holy order broke off into a splinter faction. These seven however, were not decedents of those that had come before them.
Geralt, the leader who had brought her to the guardian's sanctuary, had apparently discovered the records of the previous guardians and took it upon himself to reforge what had been lost. The others, Vanessa, Kresh, Delvin, Morland, Jerico, and Mirdala had all been recruited throughout the coarse of several years. Geralt didn't speak about his past much, and when asked about it he would simply state that all that matters is the here and now. One thing was quite clear, he hadn't come from nothing, someone had given him the skills to kill discretely. A gift which he did his best to teach the others.
Ana carried out many "sentences" while with the guardians. Taking lives became easier with every throat she slit and her heart was always full of excitement when she pulled off a heist against those who had stolen the money or goods in the first place. Every target had a reason to be eliminated. Every blow she struck against the criminal underworld felt like a victory.
Two years had passed since she asked Geralt to remove his hood, ad he had been truthful to her from the very start.
Is freedom the absence of emotions? Anastasia asked herself.
She felt no remorse, nor ill will towards those she had killed save for their deaths alone.
Again the answer came to her in the form of her own actions.
Delvin had grown quite close to her over the years, as had all the other members of the guardians. They had shared many experiences. Both Delvin and Ana had feelings for each other beyond that of friendship, but neither of them chose to give in to those desires. Perhaps out fear that one day one of them would be killed. Or perhaps still, maybe true love is willingness to let go of passion and simply love a being for who they are.
Both Delvin and Ana volunteered to sentence a noble visiting from the distant world of Onderon. The royal had been embezzling funds meant for his people, and with no authority willing to question this, it fell upon them to enact their own justice.
Casualties were kept to a minimum, and with a guard's blood still dripping from her blades, Anastasia entered the code to the royal's personal chambers aboard his private vessel, The Red Ruping, and, after tossing a smoke grenade into the room to conceal her movements, she soon had those same blades embedded up to their hilts in his neck. Satisfaction washed over her as she let his body fall to the floor, satisfaction that was wiped away once she saw the terrified eyes of a small boy, cowering in the corner. His mouth silently uttering the same word, over and over.
"Papa..."
Anastasia knew that look, only by witnessing it now, so vicariously, did she begin to feel the pain of loss. She had become the debt collector. The judge with no jury. The zealot with no restraint. No words could ever amend what had been done. How much did she truly know about freedom, if she did not even give others the chance to change?
Once again, Ana became the wanderer. The being without a purpose. She no longer walked the desert, but instead, the entire galaxy. Endlessly searching for something to make her feel whole. The truth within. Feeling as though she had betrayed and abandoned all those who cared for her.
All the while, the war between the Exiles and their former kin raged on. Death was palpable.
Anastasia avoided the war. Refusing to aid or hinder or aid in any more deaths, fearing that she was no longer capable of making the right choices, that free will itself was something that was impossible to achieve. All beings are influenced by the world around them. There are not infinite choices, she thought. Only those which we can act upon based on what we are taught to believe.
Ana could not choose indecision forever however, because, as the force willed it, the civilian transport she was traveling in was caught in the crossfire of Jedi and Exile forces. And, as the craft plummeted towards the earth below Ana let go of her frustrations. They seemed so insignificant in that single moment. She let go of all fears, all doubts, concentrating only on herself and the passengers that surrounded her. Willing, more than anything, that they would live.
Impact shook the vessel, and she faded from consciousness.
When she awoke, she was amidst the wreckage. Pain in her left shoulder made her grimace. Smoke drifted past her face, and there, in front of her the fuselage was cracked in half. Many were dead, but many more had survived, and despite the dull throb in her shoulder, she lifted herself from her seat and began to tend to their wounds. Various spices were in the cargo hold, and among them was a root from Jakku. One that Ana knew to be a painkiller, and as she administered it among the injured, Ana realized that her mother would be quite proud. A small thought which, despite the circumstances, filled her with joy.
Hours later, three Jedi arrived on the scene, and after she helped them escort the critically wounded to an evacuation point, she offered them her help.
She returned to Jedha shortly thereafter, and dug up the kyber crystals she had buried there in the desert. Taking the two which called most to her and donating the rest to be used as the Jedi saw fit.
Now twenty nine, Ana has received her Knighthood and has devoted herself to the Jedi and their quest to restore order. Pledging never to take a life again unless no other choices remain...
Appearance
Despite it being a symbol of disgrace, Anastasia actually values the markings on her forehead most, believing them to be a testament to the person she has become through her own actions rather than those who have influenced her. The markings on her lower lip signify her family name and status within the tribe, of which she would have received many more had she chosen to stay within the tribe. Both females and males are given tattoos throughout their lives for various accomplishments and deeds, and depending on the meaning of each, they can be an honor and right of social status or the equivalent of a prison tattoo. Each tribe member wears their own personal history on their face. The two droplets below Anastasia's eyes signify that she was an expert tracker and guide. The two streaks directly below Anastasia's golden brown eyes are markings that are typically associated with priestess in the Holy City of Jedha. The traveling monks often make a journey through the city, making it easy for Ana to blend in with the crowds as one of them. She no longer has to wear the makeup, but often does as it reminds her of the city that shaped her life the most.
A deep scar runs diagonally across her back, as well as another across her right hip. Both reminders of when she was not quick or silent enough to avoid detection. Her left shoulder is still slightly weakened by the blow she received during the crash of the civilian transport.
The ex-assassin's hair could be described as a sandy brown, and is braided into multiple strands that fall to slightly beyond her shoulders when she is not wearing them in a bun. Her physique is light and fit, though not quite as fit as she once was when she was a member of the guardians. Her height is five foot six inches, or one point seven meters.
Her robes are embroidered with various symbols of her tribe that she stitched on using beads and various threads. Later on in life, she added the symbol of the Jedi unto her right shoulder in earthy tones. Their protection rating can be found in generic tech write up contained herein.
Weapons and Fighting Prowess
Anastasia is by no means an expert at any form of combat. Saber fighting styles are relatively new to her, but what she lacks in experience can sometimes be made up for in the quick reflexes she picked up as a thief and assassin. Soresu is her obvious defensive choice, however she much prefers Djem So when on the offensive.
Like many Jedi, Ana crafted her sabers herself, using two violet colored crystals to power the blades. The two hilts are always concealed on hooks beneath folds in her robes unless otherwise stated. The blades have two length settings. Two and a half feet and three feet. (Zero point seven six two meters and zero point nine four meters)
Ana is decent at hand to hand combat, but given her small size larger opponents can, and have, easily overpowered her in the past.
During Ana's time as a guardian, she learned how to wield hidden blades. Given their situational use in live combat against well armed and armored opponents, as well as the negative emotions she associates with them, Ana keeps her set locked in a box. A box that she may never open again.
Since Ana is a force user, she will never use any form of hidden blades in combat or otherwise as they count as an armor function.
Affixed to her belt are four Impact Smoke Grenades
Personality
Echoes of her past self remain, but Ana is a largely changed person. The Knight upholds the Jedi's core beliefs, now believing that some structure of moral principal is needed to maintain order. She is however, distant from the Order itself. Viewing the Shadows to be very much like the Guardians she once served, while the more religious sects of the Jedi resemble the nomads she grew up with. Conflicts of interest arise when Ana is not given enough information. Blindly following orders, even those directly from The Council itself are not acceptable for Ana. The ordeal on Ilum seemed to further prove this point, and although many Jedi were distraught over the losses Ana simply accepted the tragedy for what it was- something that she could not change.
Force Affinity
Ana's strength in the force lies in battle meditation and her senses. Her telekinetic powers are currently quite weak. She has only been trained by the Jedi for several years and as such her full potential is much less than that of a Jedi who was trained in the force from a very young age. Ana has also succeeded in using mind tricks, but only recently, as she never knew this ability when she was a guardian.
Last edited:
