A mountain flower

There were still wild places in the galaxy despite what those on the Core Worlds liked to believe and say.  There were still those unclaimed pockets of pristine unclaimed wilderness untouched by the hands of sentient beings interested in resources and predation of the natural world.  
The savage beauty of Kashyyyk, the rolling hills and plains of Naboo and the harsh red tinted landscape of Geonosis. This was none of those places. This place was an out of the way corner of Manda’yaim. Most of the planet was a wild unexplored wilderness anyway but these mountains were the definition of the word remote.  The city of Keldabe was thousands of kilometers away and this place was hundreds of kilometers from the nearest town.
But there were always those who saw natural beauty merely as a resource to be exploited. Saradi Zerimar, daughter of clan Zerimar was not among them.  She knew not to take more than she could use and she knew that true strength, not just the strength of a single finger used to pull a trigger lay in the Kar’ta bal Runi. The heart and soul.  
True skill lay in the heart, the soul, the mind and the body all working as one to achieve a single goal.  Within her beat a truly skilled heart for she was a daughter of clan Zerimar. Long had they been the silent hunters of Mandalorian armies. They had put millennia into the skill of killing with only one shot.
Saradi Zerimar could not really tolerate the blight on the Veshok forests of Manda’yaim anymore, the plague that she could only see from this range with the help of her helmet macrobinoculars.  
She moved silently among those forests with a technology so ancient that no one knew its origin and a technology so universal that every race had developed it. She carried a bow. A blaster was too easy and for her purposes too loud. She had chosen to honor tradition.
No one could see or hear her hunt this blight and no one would see but it was still dangerous prey and it would be best if she kept her distance.
Could she do this?
She would never come back from this, she never could.  
To take a life?   She had yet to take the life of another sentient being.
Not that she had any problem doing it when it was necessary at least in theory but was it needed here?   No one would ever find the bodies but still there might be consequences for this act.  What would they be?  
Did it matter to her?
Did she care whether she lived or died?  
Saradi Zermiar, daughter of clan Zerimar drew back the bowstring, but did not release, holding it in place for a couple of minutes. She felt the tension in it much as she felt the tension in her own mind and soul. The creaking in the wood echoed the thoughts in her somewhat troubled mind.
The black uniformed officer was still unaware of her but she still thought about the results and even the basic morality of such an action. As far as she knew the imperial officer had done nothing to her, her family or her people. Maybe she could prevent that from ever happening?  No. to kill in cold blood made her everything people said Mando’ade were.
Did that man have a family somewhere?
Did he have a wife and children to go home to?
Was he a man simply trying to do his job?
Was he as evil as those he served?  
What sort of man was he?  
Why was he here?
Did it even matter?  
Manda’yaim chewed up the unprepared leaving behind nothing not even the mangled bodies as evidence of their foolishness and this would just look like this. This just might serve as a warning to others, no one else would dare intrude on her mountain sanctuary if the body of an officer was never recovered.
Could she do this?
Did she have the range?
Was it even in her to kill a thinking rational being?
He fought for the empire. that made him something less than rational. She tried to justify taking an action, any action.  Killing one man would do nothing to stop the imperial presence from further violating Mandalore but again, as she realized it would be a warning.
How effective a warning?  
Or would they simply come looking for her? It was worth the risk.
Was it?
Did she even have to do this?
The tension in the bowstring had been building up for a couple of minutes now but Saradi Zerimar had almost forgotten about it, debating whether or not to release the arrow. She was frozen, almost crippled by indecision.
The arrow seemed to fly all on its own…