"What are you talking about, sleemo? In my opinion, it's pretty clear who's won this battle," she stated with defiance. He only grinned at her apparent obliviousness.

"Ah, this battle perhaps, but the war; not in the slightest," the professor - or doctor, or whoever he was - replied odiously.

Athena still couldn't quite comprehend what on the planet Corellia he was talking about, and she very readily exclaimed her distaste for him, "What do you mean by 'battle' and 'war'? Listen nerf herder, I don't know where you get your delusions from, but I - and so very clearly, mind you - have won. That's it! You're defeated; you lose; I win; it's me or the -" she stopped and cursed to herself. Karabast! I almost let him know that I - the professor snapped her out of her thoughts for the second or third time that day.

"It's you or the what?" he asked suspiciously, drawing out the 'what'.

Athena sighed angrily at herself. Why had she been so foolish? How could she have been so foolish? She had tried her best to keep her invention a secret; to never let another living soul in on her secret as long as she lived. Too late to turn back now.

She raised the silver cylinder to the level of her chest, holding it in a reverse grip. That's what her mentors had called it anyhow - at least when she used to train with blades. She'd hated the front-hand grip (AKA the standard grip), so she invented her own. She wanted to call it the backhand grip, but her elders had insisted it sounded way too unorthodox, and that she should really name it something else. So, to please them, she settled with calling it the reverse grip. Though now she supposed it didn't really matter. They were no longer around. They were dead...or worse. No time for depressing thoughts, she told herself.

I suppose there's no point in hiding it now, she mused. With that thought in mind, she pressed what she called the ignition switch. What came next was an indescribable beauty. Never had she pressed the ignition switch. She had been too frightened to actually ignite the weapon. She was a nervous wreck the one time she actually thought about it. She didn't want to be reminded of who she used to be, or of the ridicule she received when recreating this splendid weapon and for following her heart.

The indescribable beauty that came after she pressed the ignition switch was - well - indescribable. A magnificent, shimmering silver blade promulgated itself from the silver cylinder. It looked like the sharpest sword to ever have been created (not to mention the most beautiful and elegant); in fact, it could even cut through things as if it were burning plasma, or all four of the suns of the planet Ataro. The hilt was not only silver in color, but silver and gold in its making! But before she had the chance to strike down the man in front of her, she hesitated.

She couldn't do it. Her training had taught her to never kill innocents, and the man in front of her was not innocent. Though for some odd reason, she couldn't muster up the courage to strike him down. This hesitation - though brief - was unfortunately just enough time for the Professor Doctor hybrid to escape.

He forcefully shoved her off of him, then kicked her hard in the shin. Athena grimaced and squeezed her eyes shut as she did her best to bear the pain. Just as she was opening her eyes, she realized a moment too late what was happening. The Professor yanked her weapon out of her hands and knocked her hard right between her neck and shoulder. He hit her so harshly and precisely she collapsed to the ground in a nanosecond. As Athena unwillingly drifted off into the pleasantness of unconsciousness, the Professor stole his chance and raced out of the room down the dimly lit hallway and out of the building.

So yeah.  Should I keep updating?  This story is awful I know :)  Looking back I can't even believe I wrote this :)  Thank you guys!  God bless!