This is a work of fan fiction. Star Wars is the property of George Lucas and LFL. No insult is intended and no profits were made from this story.

Des Larmes et du Sang (Of Tears and Blood)
Part One
by Arwen

I remember getting shot at. The blast of heat. I remember my X-wing breaking apart, the heat of the blast vanishing into perishing cold.

But that's all. I have a dim memory to the face of Mirax Terrik and her father bending over me, looking worried. I vaguely remember that there was another person in there, but I don't know who. I think it was a Bothan. I'm not sure. All I'm sure of is the pain.

Pain!

Waves of agony.

Then it was gone, abruptly.

There was the taste of bacta. Yummy.

Ick.

I next remember lying on a bed in a med ward.

Why am I alone? I wonder. If a Rogue is wounded, there's always someone there, always! Maybe I'm a prisoner. Maybe I'm chained to the bed and behind me is a stormtrooper. That would explain it. But if I'm a prisoner, why did I see Mirax and Booster? Maybe I was hallucinating.

"Wes?"

Where do I know that voice? It's not one of the Rogues. I run through the list of all the female Rogues. Nope. Maybe it's not a Rogue. I run through the list of all the female voices I know. There's so many!

"Wes? Can you hear me?"

"He's conscious. He should be able to hear you. But I will warn you, Mrs. Janson, that with injuries of his type, his memory may be affected." That is the exact, precise tones of an MD-4 droid.

Mrs. Janson?

Who's she?

An image bursts into my brain. A woman, holding me. I am a child. She's cradling me, holding me as I cry from a skinned knee. "My little Wes, don't cry! Mommy's here!"

Mommy?

"Wes!" I can see that woman bending over me. She looks very worried.

I study her features. Where do I know them?

Then I know.

She's my mother.

Why is my mother here?

Where are the Rogues?

A man appears at my mother's side. He's elderly, balding, paunchy.

"You alright there son?"

Son?

Why did he call me that?

Is he my father?

Yes.

He is my father.

Why are my parents here?

Where are the Rogues?

A young woman appears at his elbow. She is tall, shapely, and blonde.

Who is she?

"He hasn't said anything, Jasni." my father says to her.

Jasni?

Who's she?

Oh, yes.

Jasni.

My sister.

My baby sister Jasni.

Why is my family here?

Where are the Rogues?

I have to say something.

"Where are the Rogues?"

"What did he say? I can barely hear him!" my mother exclaims.

"It sounded like 'Where are the Rogues,'" says Jasni.

"We should tell him," my mother says.

"Do you think he could take it?"

Take what? Tell me what?

"He needs to know, Mysa," my father says.

He crouches down next to me, so that his face is level with mine.

"Wes?" he says. "The Rogues are dead. You are the only survivor of that battle."

The Rogues are dead?

I'm the only one left?

No!

No!

No!


Continued inPart Two