He remembered the cold grasp of a thousand 'hands' reaching out to drag him down.

He remembered the overwhelming fear and surprise as his ship was enveloped.

He remembered making peace with the thought of his own demise.

He remembered the world dissolving into a trillion shifting stars.

What he could not remember was how he had ended up discarded like trash amidst a riverbed, beneath a sea of pale stars.

"How strange..." Mitth'raw'nuruodo mused, allowing his mind a moment of bliss.

The moment passed.

A hundred painful sensations greeted his weary muscles as he rolled to his feet. His red eyes cautiously inspected his blue skin for injury. His white uniform was marred by wet earth, but he was intact.

Still, the first steps elicited explosions of pain across his body. Pain was good. It meant he was alive. This was unlikely to be some form of... afterlife. That thought both amused and disappointed...

"First priority, reconnaissance." Mitth'raw'nunuodo chuckled, his tone eerily calm as he turned his gaze heavenward.

The night sky was teeming with shooting stars. He sighed, aware of the implications. Disappointment and disaster were at times a warrior's closest confidants.

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Like lightning, a wave of excitement surged through Pocahontas as she darted between the trees, gleefully chasing the fallen pieces of the sky. She could FEEL the energy of the forest as it trembled under the steady assault from the heavens. It filled her with both wonder, and fear. She had been on her way to watch the 'english', when those emotions had consumed her.

Was it an omen, or gifts from the sky?

Leaping into a clearing near the eastern riverbank, Pocahontas slid against the loose rocks in surprise, narrowly avoiding a frigid plunge. She had lost track of Flit and Meeko in the excitement of the hunt. She wasn't worried.

"Are you spirits?" Pocahontas pondered, her dark black eyes mesmerized by the cascading night sky.

As if to answer, a thunderous chorus arose.

A large conflagration burst thru distant clouds, and Pocahontas squinted, her dark brown eyes unable to bear witness as the raging inferno smashed into the distant hillside. The horizon transformed in a blinding flash of light and searing heat, knocking her effortlessly into the raging river. Her once serene expression contorted into a mask of horror as she was sent tumbling against an onslaught of water and rock. The world somersaulted out of control in a festival of agony and confusion!

Fighting to stay afloat, Pocahontas choked on brief gasps of air. It brought no relief. The scolding hot winds assaulted her lungs and prickled her skin. The struggle dragged on, until she suddenly slammed into a wall of wood. Against her protest, her remaining air escaped in a horrifying gurgle. The darkness descended to claim her.

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Mitth'raw'nuruodo reacted on instinct, scarcely avoiding a hail of timber and torrential waters. He glared up at the falls, partly expecting to meet his Jedi nemesis. Fate was merciful... He did not see the adolescent rebel. All that remained atop the falls was a messy mix of mud, twigs... and a body: the body of a brown-skinned female.

Her body had been caught on a large log that hadn't been swept over the edge of the falls. He moved to investigate. The body might provide clues to the planet's inhabitants: their ideology, physiology, language, and most importantly, if they possessed the technology necessary to get back to the Empire.

Mitth'raw'nuruodo began his dutiful climb.

He carefully retrieved the body from the log, just as his muscles began to tremble with renewed exhaustion. He ceremoniously laid her against a bed of moss, and began his inspection. Immediately, his mind began drawing conclusion as he inspected her bruised body and brown cloths. He gathered he would know a great deal soon...

Mitth'raw'nuruodo drew his blaster as the woman exploded into a frenzy of motion. He allowed her emotional outburst to play out. It was another minute until she regarded him with curious suspicion. It was a human reaction to which he was intimately familiar.

"What... are you? You don't look like the others."

Mitth'raw'nuruodo smiled and inclined his head. He enjoyed these games. It would take time, but he could puzzle out her language. Right now, expression and body language would suffice. He would play his cards wisely, until he discerned if this one was ally, enemy, or adversary.

She pointed at herself, then exclaimed. "Poca-hon-tas."

Mitth'raw'nuruodo played the next card, careful to remember that humans had never been good with names. He pointed to himself. "Thrawn"

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Pocahontas had spent a day talking with Thrawn; long enough to know that he wasn't with the settlers. In exchange, he had helped bandage and treat her injuries, but had told her little about himself.

He spoke English, but referred to it as 'basic'. His clothes, face, and body were nothing like the settlers she'd seen. Where had he come from? He only pointed to the sky when asked. Was he a spirit? No, he didn't FEEL like a spirit, but neither was he a man.

He was lost, unable to get home. It made her feel sorry for him. That was the reason she had resolved to ask Mother Willow for guidance.

"How far is Mother Willow?" Thrawn inquired, tearing Pocahontas away from her thoughts.

"We're here. Mother Willow. I need your help." Pocahontas greeted, happy to converse with the elderly willow tree once again.

"You brought a strange one with you this time. This one... is trouble." Mother Willow chided. Her tone was that of a disappointed elder. "A traveler. Far, far from home, I see."

"Trouble? Is he dangerous? He doesn't seem to mean any harm."

"He doesn't mean you harm, but he will do you harm, child. Either way, you cannot help him. He's lost..."

Pocahontas turned to look at Thrawn, but he didn't seem concerned over what Mother Willow was saying. Perhaps he did not understand her.

"She doesn't know how to get you home." Pocahontas sighed, but Thrawn did not seem the least bit discouraged. He actually seemed amused.

"So even here, forgotten mystics and ancient dogmas persist." Thrawn chuckled, turning to wander off into the forest.

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Over the next 2 weeks, Thrawn had scouted the surrounding wilderness and pieced together the puzzle. There were two groups of inhabitants: an invasive group, and a native group. Neither group would be overly friendly.

Thankfully, both held technology vastly inferior to galactic standards. The invasive group was more technologically advanced, and had come in search of resources. Their ideology was... simple to grasp. They were motivated by greed, and held imperialistic beliefs. It was predictable what would come next. Normally, he might let the events play out, but Pocahontas presented him with a unique... opportunity. He would meddle...

It took another 3 days to traverse the rocky terrain to meet his next objective: the Chimaera. He frowned as he wandered the brutalized wreckage. The ship had split in two as it descended, leaving its aft section to be discovered by its former captain.

With little work, he gained access to the damaged hanger, galley, and armory. Those gave him weapons, food, and transport. Sadly, the ship's crew was absent. Many had no doubt been killed or abandoned ship. It was regrettable, but he couldn't dwell on it. The next phase of his plan couldn't wait.

"Disperse scout droids," Thrawn ordered, allowing his delicate fingers to chart a course for the river. His shuttle shook to life, climbing away from the wreckage of the dead warship. "Hmm... find Pocahontas."

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"You don't know that." Pocahontas vehemently declared as she slipped between two fallen trees. She had been on her way to meet with John when Thrawn had interrupted. He had insisted she stay away from the English. It was the same argument she had suffered over the last two days with EVERYONE from her tribe.

"We only have to accept each other." She added.

"Do not confuse forbearance for acceptance. It is a potentially fatal mistake." Thrawn cautioned, his tone and face conveying a small amount of pity. "It is a lesson with which I am well acquainted."

Pocahontas exhaled, frustration gripping her as she quickened her pace, eager to be rid of the strange creature. He often spoke with words that held no meaning to her. It was aggravating, but she understood enough. He didn't believe in her. He didn't believe she could negotiate peace. He was no better than her father, convinced she should just dutifully marry...

"You shouldn't marry either of them. It is politically... unwise. But most of all, neither will give you what you want. What all beings crave." Thrawn advised, forcing Pocahontas to stop in her tracks. She regarded him with a look of confusion... but also curiosity. What did he mean? Did he see something she didn't?

Her eyes locked onto his, desperately searching for what answers he was hiding. His cool red eyes conveyed little at first, but gradually she found her reflection in his gaze. In the span of a heartbeat she saw... everything... from his perspective: her faults and her potential.

Then it was gone. It was as if someone had unveiled a work of art, then swiftly covered it up again. She instinctively knew there would be no second peak. His calculating red gaze was a wall that could not be climbed or assailed.

"You could seize your own destiny, without a consort to relegate you to the role of birthing-tube." Thrawn tempted.

"That... won't."

"It can. Freedom and power can be yours."

"I don't need power. I just need..."

"To be a domesticated animal, or trophy? I wonder which is better. Perhaps you lack the ability to be anything else?" Thrawn mocked.

Pocohantas gritted her teeth, feeling her frustration come to a boil. He was mocking her life! This was a tapestry that had been sown for her! She didn't have much of a choice. And he had the nerve to mock that.

"There's at least honor in what I'm doing..."

"Honor and ancient codes mean nothing to the dead." Thrawn calmly explained, removing a slender piece of metal from the folds his uniform. It emitted a faint humming sound, then shot forth a myriad of lights. She leapt back in surprise, narrowly avoiding the transparent images of English settler. What magic had Thrawn invoked to create peoples made of light?! Her mind was eager to know the secret behind the trick.

That eagerness evaporated, replaced by disgust so profound that she nearly vomited. She fought against the violent upheaval, forcing her eyes to watch as the phantasmal settlers slaughtered an entire village of people. They weren't HER people, but they were PEOPLE. There had to be a reason... why?

"You are trying to rationalize insanity? Greed? Take it from one who has tried. It is a futile exercise: an instinctive trick to comfort the mind." Thrawn elaborated, calmly reaching out to steady her. She hadn't realized it, but she was shaking.

"It's a trick..."

"Trick? Shall I show you more? Shall I show you how to change it as well?"

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Within the gray confines of his shuttle, Thrawn surveyed the final reconnaissance reports. He now had an accurate map. He was in a different galaxy. He was on a pre-industrial planet, in a region destined for geo-political upheaval. There were not two groups of people. This game involved several EMPIRES. Empires ruled by aristocracies with... undesirable biases.

"A choice must be made..." Thrawn mused.

He glanced over his shoulder to watch Pocahontas. Her eyes were locked on the computer, reviewing hours of droid footage from the surrounding regions. Originally, he had planned to doctor the footage into a sort of propaganda, but that carried risks. Risks that proved unnecessary when dealing with someone so... earnest.

"So much death and destruction. Why?" Pocahontas asked, her tone making it clear that the question was rhetorical. Still, he thought it fitting to provide an answer.

"Inefficiency and chaos. All men crave security and freedom. The dogs will trample over others to get it, if not properly leashed." Thrawn casually remarked.

She affixed him with a look of shock and disgust that made him almost pity her--- almost. However, she wasn't the damsel of this story. He was the dragon. He only had to show her that. If the Emperor had taken his place on this odd adventure, how much easier might this part have been? Thrawn was many things, but he was not religious. He could use, and TEACH ideology... that would be his game.

"Let me show you how you might save them. Let me show you how to bring order."

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It had been two weeks since Thrawn had taken Pocahontas to the wreckage of the Chimaera. In that time, her people and the settlers had devolved into a cycle of violence. Meanwhile, Thrawn had educated, trained, and armed her in that time. She knew why he had done it. It wasn't kindness. It was necessity. He needed her. She needed him. That would be their relationship. He would not allow her to waiver, and she would not allow him to fail.

Pocahontas exhaled, her fingers tracing the curved edges of the metallic bow. It had been made from corpse of the metal giant---the Chimaera. The bow didn't feel right. It had no draw string, and the arrows were smooth metal shafts, devoid of feathers. It was no more than a collection of metal.

These qualities changed when she lifted the artless instrument. Something stirred within bow, a myriad of colorful red symbols springing to life. A tether of scarlet light erupted between the open bow arc, creating a string of pure energy. She resisted the urge to shrink away from the weapon in fear. She was done being afraid. She plucked the string of energy. It rewarded her with an effortlessly silent bend that displayed its submission. This was her weapon.

She glanced down at the white armor plates that had been sown into her old cloths. She had painted the plates with the markings of her ancestors, so that they might watch over her in the days to come. Thrawn had approved, adding a white helmet that partly enclosed her face. It had an artful, feline appearance meant to elicit fear.

"Remember, fear sharper than any arrow. Make it known, that it is you who brings defeat crashing down upon them." Thrawn advised over the communicator. She nodded, silently creeping against the nightly shadows of Jamestown. It was useless. A pair of settlers noticed the glow of her weapon and approached.

The first never stood a chance. Her energy-laced arrow transformed his chest into a crimson mess.

The second man screamed and fired his musket. The shot glanced harmlessly off her armor, stunning her. For a second.

She let her rage flow and reached out, silencing the man's screams. She could feel his terror---his fear. She ended it with a single twist of her wrist.

"Use the incendiaries. I'll take care of the ship in the harbor."

Pocahontas focused on her breathing, calming herself. This was the hard part. The weight of her next three shots felt... crushing. Each shot exploded, transforming sections of Jamestown into small firestorms of screaming people.

A dozen armed men appeared next. They unleashed everything they had in a hail of deadly metal. She drowned in the pain of each stinging strike. It was her responsibility to do so.

"The demon is dead! Bring me its head." The mayor shouted, and several settlers charged.

She broke them with a terrifying roar. It sent them flying! Defeated by fear, the remaining settlers bolted for their ship. She thought to give chase, but stopped as a bloody hand seized her foot.

She pulled another arrow, intent on ending this one's suffering, but her breath caught in a silent sob at what she saw: John Smith. He had been the first man she had shot...

She knelt down, holding his hand as he passed. He grabbed her tightly, his gaze tearing into her soul. His grip felt both comforting, and damning. It broke her, but she stayed until he was gone.

The battle was over. She chuckled tearfully... this was a start. She heard the ship explode in the distance. None escaped. Discarded against the dirt, John Smith's compass spun in an endless circle...

_________________________________________________

Thrawn and Pocahontas had settled into what remained of the mayor's office in the aftermath. The battle had been over the day he had arrived on this planet. His opponents had been... uninformed. John had been a potential problem, but Pocahontas had held to her conviction, intentionally or otherwise. He expected no less from... a force user. He hadn't expected to find a force-sensitive, let alone one with royal lineage. He had no love for religious pursuits, but he couldn't deny that force users had an uncanny ability to influence events, for better or worse.

"What's our next move?" Pocahontas asked, her lips curling into a predatory smile that conveyed excitement for the coming adventure.

"If we're to establish an Empire, we need allies. Worthy rulers who are ready to do what is necessary. I may have a few likely candidates. This country. It has an interesting legend surrounding a peculiar lamp."

Thrawn pointed at the holo-map and it expanded to reveal a sandstone city surrounded by a sea of blistering sand. At its heart, a magnificent palace arose to tower above the rest of the city. And within the palace, a willful and rebellious princess was waiting for the right prince... or princess to show her a path to power.

"I think we have work to do." Pocahontas declared, her hand already moving to grab her bow and helmet. This world needed a few good queens to guide it. She was determined to find and train them all. Thrawn saw the ambition burning behind her yellow eyes.

Congratulations and thank you for a great read Soulless_Echo