Chapter 1: The Glass
The glass is half full… the glass is half full… the glass is half full…
The glass is shattered.
No! The glass is fine. It just has some water missing at the top, but there is still water in it. There is nothing wrong with the glass.
Was there ever a glass to begin with?
Sansa Snow stared ahead of her, trying to make sense of her muddled thoughts as she walked towards the Sunspear Cantina. The planet of Dorne was not known for it’s wholesome people, with Sunspear having a reputation as one of the worst shipping ports in the galaxy. The fact that this cantina stood out amongst the rest as being particularly sketchy was promising, though Sansa was unsure if she should be hopeful or terrified at the thought. Still, she had exhausted all her other options, and had no choice but to ask for help. Sansa, and the rest of the Rebellion, had found that when going against the Empire, it was best to find common ground with those who also had a price on their head. The only people she could remotely trust with her situation was the group of thugs currently getting drunk inside its dark walls.
The dry dessert sands of Dorne whipped around her, causing Sansa to pull her hood over her fire red hair and shield her eyes. It was rumored that hundreds of years ago the planet had once been surrounded by water, but years of the harsh dessert sun had evaporated the liquid causing the planet to become a dessert wasteland. Quickening her step, she forced herself to look as inconspicuous as possible as she made her way past shops and buildings towards the cantina at the end of the sand packed street. Noticing the White Walkers coming her way, she turned and pretended to look interested in a woven tunic an old woman was selling at her outdoor shop.
“My, what a beautiful girl you are. Surely, someone as pretty as you is not from around here. Taking a visit, or here on business my dear?” The old woman asked, her face gnarled and wrinkly from the constant sun and dessert storms that often plagued the planet.
“Just making a brief stop to refuel my ship, then I’ll be on my way.” Sansa responded. In truth, Sansa had no time for small talk. She wanted to avoid the White Walker soldiers if she could, and speaking with the old woman seemed as good an option as any. She continued to peruse the shop, gracing the woman with a polite smile as she did so. It wasn’t this old woman’s fault her day had turned out so poorly, and Sansa refused to let her manners suffer because of it.
The White Walkers, in their bulky white battle armor with blasters resting at their hip, walked past her and further down the street, not even sparing a glance in her direction. Sansa gave the friendly woman a wave and moved on towards the Cantina. The mission had been a simple one, as well as her first official solo job for the rebellion. It also might end up being her last one, she thought ruefully, unless she managed to get the fuel the rebellion so desperately needed off planet.
There had been rumors that the Empire was creating a planet-size space station with the capacity to destroy entire moons and planets. If they were able to harness this type of power, not only the rebellion, but entire civilizations would be destroyed. General Baratheon, the leader of the rebellion, had not wanted to take any chances and tasked a strike force with finding out if this information was accurate. The entire force had given their lives to retrieve and send the information. The group had found that not only was the Death Star a fact, it was also on the verge of being fully operational. General Baratheon, along with the council of Senator Oberyn, Colonel Royce, and Jedi Masters Davos and Tyrion, had decided to strike before the Death Star had the capacity to wipe a single planet out of existence by launching an air strike.
There were, as there always was when planning a mission of this scale, two significant problems. The first was fuel. The rebellion did not have enough of it, so several groups of rebellion cells on each planet had been tasked with getting the fuel together under the guise of collecting it for the Empire. A rebel soldier would come, retrieve the fuel, and head home. With many planets having rebel cells regardless of their affiliation to the Rebellion or the Empire, the problem of fuel was easy to solve.
The second problem was much more complicated. The ship carrying Jedi Master Tyrion and the blueprints to the Death Star had been captured. Everyone on board the ship was believed to be dead. Or tortured and then put to death, if their last outgoing message was anything to go by. Sansa knew it was better for them all if they had been killed on sight and not taken prisoner. The torture methods of the Empire were inhumane, and no one deserved that fate. Stannis has decided to press on with the attack blueprints or not. It was either die fighting, or die from the Empire’s ultimate weapon.
Sansa had been put in charge of flying to Dorne, Many below the council had questioned the wisdom of sending Sansa on such an important mission on her own for the first time. Still, she had proven herself in other jobs for the rebellion, and all five of the council members were sure of her success. In fact, the success in securing fuel from Dorne had been a given since this was Senator Oberyn’s own planet. He had been working with the rebellion since the day the Empress had taken control of the senate, and thus the Republic of Westeros. To his credit, Oberyn’s group of rebel soldiers had provided the fuel; they had just gotten stir crazy. The Empire had sent a few extra White Walker patrol groups that same day (something that occurred regularly and nothing to be worried over), and while Sansa had been checking over the fuel they had stolen her ship and flown away without her or the supplies. Not having enough money to purchase her own ship, unaware of how to steal a ship, and knowing she couldn’t trust any of the Empire pilots who flew the cargo transportation ships, Sansa was left with her only option standing right in front of her. Squaring her shoulders and with her head held high, Sansa Snow walked into the cantina with all the confidence she could muster.
My name is Sansa Snow. I am 19 years old. I was saved from Order Wild Fire by Jedi Nan as an infant. I was raised on the ice moon North Wall amongst it’s people and a handful of Jedi survivors. My Master has been captured or killed by the Empire. I will honor his name as I complete my mission. I will only use the force and my lightsaber if necessary. I will complete my mission and bring this fuel back the rebellion. We will defeat the Empire and restore balance to the force and the galaxy.