.8 Ikeeriot awoke early that morning, and sought out the little privacy that the balcony in his Master’s apartment. Ikeeriot watched lazily the pedestrians walking up and down the street, sometimes pulling wooden carts but most always giving each other a happy smile and an even happier salutation. Ikeeriot could sense something amiss right then, but he thought it was only his usual attitude playing tricks on him. They’re happy because they don’t know about the war, he thought. They don’t know anything more then this happy, rural place. Ikeeriot felt a pang of jealousy in him but brushed it out of his mind. I am a Jedi. I am here to protect these people and make sure they have the chance to enjoy their lives as such. Something still bothered him though. He tried to hide it in the Force, but he knew his Master Alec probably already knew. Ikeeriot was experienced enough in the Force, and in combat to be a Knight. So why wasn’t he? Why aren’t I a Knight when Anduil is? A voice, that of common sense would tell him that Anduil was two years older then him. That doesn’t matter, he thought anxiously, feeling his Master’s presence growing behind him. People of all ages become elevated. It is different for all of them. But sixteen? Common sense asked him. Ikeeriot shook his head silently and continued to watch the city only about ten or fifteen feet below him move past busily. He looked out over the jungle too and felt comfort in the vibrance it gave off to him in the Force. I’ve been ready, Ikeeriot thought. What now? Should I press the issue of Knighthood? Isn’t that a sign of the Dark Side at work? Haste? Wanting to move on quicker then the Force would usually allow? He examined it, closing his eyes and taking a thoughtful, careful breath. If I go too far? I won’t tarnish the Order’s name. I’d rather be banished then do such a thing with my inexperience. Ikeeriot heard the footsteps behind him and opened his eyes slowly. "Master." Alec Uban cleared his throat and stepped to his padawan’s side at the balcony’s railing. "There is so much torment in a Padawan’s mind. What have I done to make you so anxious, Ikeeriot?" Ikeeriot looked at his Master in a distressed way that could only convey one thing: confusion. "No, Master, it’s not you, I was just thinking. If I were to ask for the Trials before I was ready, what would that mean?" Master uban wore a thoughtful smile on his face and rubbed his hand over his glistening, bald head, wiping away a few beads of the morning’s humidity. "That would depend on whether or not you really think you’re not ready, Ikeeriot." Ikeeriot frowned and looked back down at the streets below. "Most of the time it’s not me I worry about, Master Uban. It’s them," he pointed down at the street. "What if I can’t protect them? Or what if I can’t figure out what Justice is in a certain situation? It’s all so relative and vague." "All most be one with the Force at one time or another, apprentice." Master Uban said calmly, looking out over the jungle and feeling the sheer life force of it’s inhabitants fill him with the Force. "We cannot protect everyone in the galaxy. If we could, we would never learn from mistakes because we would not be permitted them by the Force. We would not learn anything. There is no ignorance; there is knowledge." "That’s a rather odd way of looking at it," Ikeeriot said, looking lopsidedly at his Master. "When haven’t I been odd, young one?" Alec asked, grinning. "I thought it was just because you were a Master." Ikeeriot sighed dryly. He took a deep breath and gulped once. "I’m ready to be a Jedi Knight, Master Uban." Alec looked at his apprentice, concerned. "Ikeeriot, I’m not here to pressure you into this—I can sense your nervousness—." "It’s something other then that." Ikeeriot said. He frowned. "Something about this whole situation just doesn’t feel right. The Sith? Lord Darchind? It all seems a bit . . off. Why wasn’t a group of distinguished Jedi Masters sent out here, and if these people are Sith, then why aren’t they giving off the Dark Side like smell off a gundark?" Alec chuckled. "The Dark Side of the Force is something more readable to those who delve in it. We Jedi sense it like a shadow at our heels more then anything, the way I look at it anyway. I’m not the most distinguished Jedi Master, you might say." "You’re modest." Ikeeriot said. "I think you’re one of the best in the Order right now, although I don’t know why you’re not on the Council." "Indeed." Alec said dryly. "Perhaps I thought I had more urgent matters to attend to?" Ikeeriot smiled. "I’m ready for Knighthood." "Yes, you are." Master Uban said quietly. "You are a Jedi Knight then." Ikeeriot started and narrowed his eyes. "What about the Trials? What about the Knighting Ceremony and the—." Alec shrugged. "Knighthood is not always in the way you are elevated as much as it is that you are elevated at all." "What about crafting my own lightsaber though? I don’t even have all the supplies to do it here!" Ikeeriot argued. Alec withdrew a gray cylindrical object from his tunic’s many pockets and held it in the air with his grasp of the Force. "I have the supplies needed to make your own, but you can use the crystal in this one." Ikeeriot fell silent and watched the lightsaber float in the air in front of him. "Will the Order validate it?" "Does it matter?" Alec asked simply. "Well yes, the Order has to validate my being Knight if they’re to recognize me by the title, I mean—." "All that matters right now is that you are ready to be a Jedi Knight, Ikeeriot. You have learned all that I have taught and taught me more then I thought I could learn at my age. Take this lightsaber and become a Knight—not for the Order—for you." A moment of thought cross Ikeeriot’s face. It was a fleeting moment and when Ikeeriot picked the lightsaber out of the air, there was no hesitation. "Congratulations." Alec said, resting a hand on his former padawan’s shoulder. "What was it that you finally learned?" Ikeeriot looked up at his former master and smiled. "I can’t protect everyone. I find it a privilege to protect anyone and now I can do that—because it’s what I want. To protect those from evil or malice." Alec nodded in reverence. "A true Guardian if I ever saw one." Ikeeriot nodded and started to take apart the lightsaber, holding each part up in the air next to him with the Force. "Did we get any messages from the Paladins? Or the Warriors for Justice?" Alec nodded. "Both of them." Ikeeriot looked up and narrowed his eyes in surprise. "Both? I was under the impression the Jedi Warriors-for-Justice was on the other side of the galaxy." Alec smiled at the recognition of JWJ’s name. It was very common for them to be referred to as JWJ rather then their name, the simple fact being that given all Jedi fought for justice, why should these men incorporate it into their platoon’s name? Ah, Alec thought silently. It might be that they fight for Justice, rather then justice. Justice, Alec thought dryly, the code name for their organization’s leader. "Master?" "The Force was with us. A good portion of them, all save two, were at Ryloth . .mediating a trade dispute between the native Twi’lek and the Geonosians. They should be here in a few hours." "The Paladins?" Ikeeriot ventured. "They were also nearby, although it might take them until later this afternoon to gather their forces and meet us here on Xolatis." Alec replied. "Where were they?" Ikeeriot asked, fiddling carefully with his lightsaber, as had Anduil two days before. Alec shook his head silently and walked into the apartment. "A small smuggling settlement on a planet called Lok. It was out of the way, as they were chasing a group of smugglers and happened upon the coordinates after snatching them as the smugglers jumped for hyperspace." "Another new planet?" Ikeeriot asked curiously. "We might not know for some time. It could have been recorded in the Temple Records but just never filed for Republic status. As I said, it was mostly run by smugglers, from what the Paladins could tell." Alec replied. "Perhaps we could give them the coordinates to the freedom fighter’s last known position and tell them to meet us there. We could easily go from there to Lord Darchind’s castle and bring the revolutionaries with. We could get notions of peace whispered on mouths by night’s end." Ikeeriot suggested. Alec nodded. "It would warrant a conversation with Master Beserek and Anduil." "Well," Ikeeriot said smiling. "Let’s get a move on then." It didn’t take much convincing for them to go along with Ikeeriot’s plan, but Orsin had suggested he hang back behind the first group in case there was an ambush at the camp site Alec had already gone to. They agreed to this and sent a message via the holotransmitter to the Paladins and the Warriors-for-Justice. Their message detailed the approximate distance away from the settlement on Xolatis and the direction in which the camp was. Landing instructions were to be cautious and watch for their signal. By the beginning of the afternoon the four Jedi had set out over the vast jungle terrain and made good headway. Ikeeriot was still balancing his senses between calibrating his lightsaber and watching the terrain. The jungle was once more teeming with the Force and it filled the two Jedi Masters and Knights with feelings of encouragement and rejuvenated their bodies inner strength, bit by bit. It was a few hours before they arrived at the streambed Alec had finally encountered the disturbance in the Force fully. When they crossed onto the other side, this time they felt no disturbance. Just a certain emptiness in everything except for the sound of the jungle. They were nearing the clearing and cliff side when Ikeeriot finished his lightsaber and clipped it uneasily onto his belt after igniting it and testing it on a few vines. "Good." He said. The blue blade zipped back into the hilt and he concentrated fully on the jungle in front of him. "Padawans are quicker at that then the old days," Orsin Beserek complained to Alec grumpily. It was the first time since leaving Kashyyk that he once more felt the jungle’s humidity and how it sank into his fur and made him a little irritated. "Padawans they are no more." Alec said, continuing through the jungle silently, watching for the cliff. The last time it had just snuck up on him— Once again, he nearly fell right over the edge of the cliff, but the danger sense in between his shoulder blades prickled and he took a cautious step back and warned his fellow Jedi: "We’re here." Before any of them could reply, a vigorous snapping of twigs and branches invaded their ears and the freedom fighters, one hundred and twenty of them in all, dropped or stood up from their camouflaged hiding places. "That you are, Master Jedi." The four Jedi whirled around, five blades(counting Anduil’s extra) igniting as they turned to regard the newcomers. "Stop your weapons or we’ll shoot!" The man, standing in front of them in some kind of bone armor exclaimed wearily. "We are Jedi. Is there any reason for us to be afraid of your men?" Anduil asked through gritted teeth. "Of the fact that you are Jedi I am aware, pup," the man sneered. "I’m sure however, you won’t have any reservations backing down from those." He pointed with his primitive blaster behind the four Jedi. Anduil and Ikeeriot turned. When they did, they each received stun bolts to the backs. The armored man sneered victoriously. "Pups. I guess they just didn’t know that trick yet, huh?" He directed his question to Beserek and Uban. "We’re here to try and commence negotiations." Beserek said, stretching out with the Force to his former padawan and Alec’s former padawan to see if they were alright. Fine. The Wookie was relieved. The man in the armor didn’t know what Beserek had said though and looked at Uban for reassurance. "I’m sure he didn’t just say ‘we’re going to kill you for that’, right?" He said with a raised eyebrow. "We’re here to commence negotiations between you and Lord Darchind. We want to find out why it is that you’re attacking him—." "He’s a bad one. That’s why. He’s a dictator. We want a democracy." The man said. "We don’t have time to talk about this right now though. We’re out in the open here." Alec deactivated his lightsaber and sat down. "There. We’re covered." The man with the blaster narrowed his eyes and glared. He yelled in some unknown language to his men. They all seemed to relax. "You got ten minutes, Jedi. If you haven’t convinced me by then you aren’t working for Darchy himself, then we’re going to shoot you where you lie." "Terrific." Alec said. The negotiations began.

.7 Alec Uban was back in the quarters Lord Darchind had given him before the curfew in place was initiated. He locked the door behind him and meditated for what seemed like a lifetime, drawing the Force into him to replenish his energy and give him insight, if it would allow him that much. When he came out of the Force trance his eyes darted quickly to the holotransmitter, which was on a dark gray square pedestal in the middle of the room. Uban got up to his feet and felt a jolt of premonition(like most visions, they came to him after meditation rather then during) and almost had to sit back down. He stayed on his feet though, knees bent with his hands placed gently but firmly on his temples. He tried to sustain the images inside his head. One red lightsaber stands out as a band of crimson in a black room, standing against thirty five blue, green or yellow lightsabers. There aren’t figures or Jedi or Sith holding the weapons, and the blue, green and yellow begin to fill a circle around the one crimson colored blade. Finally the circle is complete, and the red is seemingly outnumbered. Suddenly all of them extinguish their blades. Even the red blade. Alec tried to regain the image, but it disintegrates in his mind as he hears the knocking at his door. "Master Uban?" A familiar wookie voice woofs at him through the door. "Are you alright?" "Come in," Uban croaked. He cleared his throat and said it again, the familiar faces already filing into the room on their own. "Come in." He put a hand up to his throat and massaged it easily. He looked first at his friend and fellow Jedi Master, Orsin Beserek. The Wookie is like all of them, tall and shaggy with his warm looking coat of black fur. There are more then a few streaks of gray running through his mane, but Alec Uban knows that Beserek shows no immediate signs of slowing down. Wookies age differently, Alec had been told, and he’d even asked Beserek about it. The wily Jedi Master had simply inclined his head with subtlety not known to Wookies and smiled a toothy smile. Alec then looked at Anduil, who had obviously passed his trials. He was wearing a lightsaber, crafted in a unique way that Alec hadn’t ever thought of in his time—two blades, one on each side of the cylinder. Anduil would have to be careful using the hilt as a middle ground: it would be open to attack. Finally Alec looked at his Padawan. Ikeeriot was dressed in his usual brown tunic and cloak but there was something foreboding about him. He was a little angry that he wasn’t a Knight yet, but Alec knew this wasn’t all of what was behind Ikeeriot’s emotions. His competition with his friend Anduil Siron sometimes ran too thick in both their bloods. "Anduil, I’m glad to see you’ve finally become a Knight." Alec said, walking over to young man and placing a hand on his shoulder, then shaking his hand. "I foresee that no one in this room will be below the rank of Knight before too long." Alec said, turning to his padawan. "Thanks." Ikeeriot said. "I’d rather not have the charity, if possible." Alec shook his head adamantly. "No. This is no charity. Until I saw Anduil with his own lightsaber, I thought I had more to teach you, Ikeeriot. The truth is, your patience and perseverance has paid off. Pending you pass the trials once we get back to Coruscant, you will be a Knight." Before Ikeeriot could reply though, Orsin Beserek cut in. "However, I think your Master has a story for us. Don’t you Alec?" The Wookie smiled his toothy grin at the Human. Alec felt a slight shiver go down his spine. Sometimes that Wookie smile was unnerving. Alec nodded though and told them the story, from his first meeting with Lord Darchind of the Xolatians and then his journey into the jungle and the fight with the fallen Jedi named Vance in the freedom fighter’s encampments. "You’re sure that Vance thinks Darchind is a Sith?" Beserek growled uneasily. Alec nodded. "I could think of nothing else. I saw him bowing at Darchind’s feet when I first came into the throne room." "Maybe the Sith is hidden in the freedom fighters." Anduil suggested. "Perhaps he is trying to direct our attention at Darchind so that we kill him and alleviate the problem for those revolutionaries." "I thought of that too." Ikeeriot put in. "Since the Sith were wiped out it would make more sense for them to hide their numbers instead of openly proclaiming their allegiance and bringing the attention of the whole Order on them." "That does make sense too." Orsin reasoned. "When the Sith are involved, the danger is increased a hundred-fold and the treachery a thousand. We must be watchful." Alec nodded. The fact that he hadn’t thought of what either Anduil or Ikeeriot had just said made him sure that the Dark Side was strong on Xolatis. It clouded things . .made the ocean of the Force that the Jedi swam in day to day murky and brackish. "I was just about to use the holotransmitter—." "Who will you call?" Orsin asked, hurriedly, watching Alec’s Padawan’s and Anduil’s reactions. Alec stopped as if to mask his thought but shook his head instead. "I’m going to call the Paladins. Possibly JWJ and their men for their help if they can administer it too." "I think this is a bad idea." Anduil said instantly. "Why?" Ikeeriot asked pointedly. "If we need the help, we should use it if it’s there." "That’s not it." Anduil said quietly. "There’s something else here. I can’t put my finger on it. Not yet." Orsin nodded. "I follow my former padawan’s train of thought. I don’t think calling more Jedi into the situation would be wise. Much less the Paladins or JWJ. I don’ think the Order would approve." Alec scoffed with a lopsided grin on his face. "The Order is busy on the war front repelling the Mandalorians. We would be just another thorn in their side to ask for able-bodied Jedi from the order to help us. Besides, JWJ and the Paladins are respected faculties of the Order, they simply exist away from it for their respective purposes." Orsin opened his mouth to argue the point, but luckily none of them saw his mouth open behind the fur on his face. Master Uban’s resolve was stubborn when his intentions were set. If Orsin tried to argue now it would probably make things difficult in the future for them to agree. He would concede on this point. "Fine. I’ll ask you to not draw too many out of the two associations, Alec. I submit to your strategy for now, but in the meantime, what should we do about Darchind?" Alec took a deep breath inward and closed his eyes in careful thought. "When the others arrive, we should gather there and ask for Lord Darchind to come with us and negotiate with the freedom fighters." "Master that’s insane—." Ikeeriot started to say. "Careful, my Padawan." Alec regarded him. Ikeeriot gathered himself and continued. "You can’t expect Darchind to come with us! He’s already had attempts on his life in the capitol—no one in their right mind would expect him to come with us into their territory!" He exclaimed. Alec nodded slowly. "Perhaps then, my padawan, we should bring the freedom fighters to Darchind?" Ikeeriot’s face went pale and he said nothing. "We should probably let the conversations go for tonight. We’ll discuss it once we’ve sent for the Paladins and JWJ, but for now, we should rest I think." Master Beserek stepped in. Ikeeriot gave out a respectfully low sigh and cast his eyes downward. "I’m going to bed then. Good night Masters; Anduil." He bowed to them each in turn and walked into the refresher station. "I think I’ll wait for my turn in the refresher." Anduil said, getting up quickly. Orsin nodded and turned his attention to his fellow Jedi Alec Uban. He was ambling in front of the holotransmitter and tapping away at transmission buttons. "Do you think Lord Darchind is piggybacking transmissions and tracing them?" Orsin asked, clambering to Uban’s side. Alec turned to regard Orsin for a moment but then shook his head. "I wouldn’t expect that from him. He’s a politician but I’ve not met many that are that tech-savvy." "Then again, Alec, you haven’t known very many politicians in your day either." Orsin Beserek said. They both laughed and began transmitting to the Paladins. When they were done, they contacted JWJ’s broadband relays, which would send their messages to the reclusive faculty of warrior Jedi all the way on the other side of the galaxy, just on the fringe of the unknown regions. "We should receive a message very soon from the Paladins, and one from JWJ at least by tomorrow afternoon." Alec reassured Orsin. "That’s good." Orsin said. "Are you sure about the boy? Perhaps he should be elevated to Knighthood. It wouldn’t be the first time a padawan was elevated outside of the Order’s jurisdiction." Alec frowned thoughtfully and took a few moments to think. "I realize I am not the easiest Master to be an Apprentice to, Orsin. My train of thought and theories on the Force are very . .off the beaten path, but I think if anyone will know when Ikeeriot should be elevated to Knighthood, it will be him." Realization dawned on Orsin and he nodded with a firm smile. "How long has he not had confidence in his skills?" Alec shrugged. "It goes back a long way. Most of the time I’m left wondering if he idols under my shadow or just hates me." Orsin’s smile faded a bit. "Alec, the boy doesn’t hate you. It has to be just the opposite. I think he was more worried about your condition then becoming a Knight when we arrived. We all sensed the disturbance." "Even so," Alec said, shaking his head. "He is a formidable opponent in a lightsaber match and his understanding of the Force is beyond what I understood at that age . .he just—." "Doesn’t know where to go next." Orsin said. Alec nodded. "Perhaps he would be a Watchmen." Orsin said. Alec nodded once again. "It would fit his ways, but I think he has to grow out of it. If he stays in one place, he may limit his knowledge and understanding—and he has far too much potential to do that." "Agreed." Orsin said. "You really think he is stronger then you were at your age?" Alec nodded and smiled. "I know it. In the field situations we’ve been in, if combat was an issue, he wouldn’t hesitate more then a few seconds. It’s just that few seconds in him . ." Orsin grinned his Wookie grin. "Maybe I should tell you about how your student was put into the meditation room for showing too much initiative in the dueling tournament." "I wasn’t aware a Jedi could be put into the meditation room?" Alec asked, grinning back. They shared the chuckle and Orsin told him the story. In the morning, they all woke to the messages on the holotransmitter from both the Paladins and the JWJ. The four Sith had gathered in Lord Darchind’s dark throne room. "What of those who joined the Jedi Master last night?" Valecka inquired. Lord Darchind shook his head slowly. "They are of no consequence. However, they have sent for others to join them, and that could put a small wedge in our plan," he turned to the other two Sith, adorned in the exact same black cloaks, save for the red edges of Darchind’s. "what do you think?" The first one to speak, the taller and usually more quiet, Tallamaur said: "They seem to foolish if their number is four. Let them bring more and I surmise they might be even more insolent." They all agreed to the latter part of his comment, but the remark itself was little more then a ploy not to look stupid in front of Lord Darchind, their eminence. Lord Darchind turned to the other one, the oldest out of them all, save for Darchind. Lord Derneel was his name. That and his gray beard made him none the wiser then any of them. Still, in numbers Sith were dedicated to their goals: to destroy Jedi. "I believe we should spring our trap on them if they come with their reinforcements, milord." Lord Darchind nodded, little more then to say he was indulged for the moment. "I will consider each of your thoughts. As in the ‘democracy’ we which to put into place to force out the corruption and anarchy of Xolatis’ beings . ." He began to laugh defiantly. The three others laughed along with him. "Once my troops and the ships arrive, we will be in perfect striking position to start our offensive against the Republic. Tallamaur, do you have the long-range jammer ready?" Darchind asked after his bout of laughter ended. Tallamaur only nodded. "Go then, all of you. We will begin our plans as soon as the Jedi bumble into our hands. A new golden age of our Sith Brotherhood shall replace the Republic’s fools." The three other Sith dispersed, leaving Lord Darchind occupying his throne and thinking. Alone, the Sith Lord waited and planned.

Ok, here's my first attempt at one of Winter's awesome jedi. Orsin Beserek the wookie, he's my favorite.

.6 Alec Uban used the several days that he had to himself before his fellow Jedi arrived to the fullest extent. He explored the capitol city of Xolatis at length, watching the customs and ways of the aliens that lived there. There was a great volume of an unknown species that walked the streets in the day and at night, past the curfew which Alec decided to ignore. They were Humanoid, similar to him in physical form but their skin wasn’t pale and chalky white. Their eyes were a similar drab gray or olive green. He also observed they all seemed to be wearing some kind of article of clothing to cover all of their skin. Uban guessed that they were averse to their sun’s natural light. Uban wasn’t like many Jedi in a distinctive way—he did not familiarize himself with alien or foreign surroundings as quickly or as surely, he eventually let them soak into him, and let the Force direct him about Xolatis in whatever way it would. It was the day before his padawan Ikeeriot and Master Beserek and Anduil Siron came to Xolatis when he went out into the jungle, sensing a minute darkness within the great green that flanked all the boundaries of the city. There were dozens of unknown creatures lazing on the thick red branches that were strewn about all above his head when he went headlong into the forest. The living Force was an amazing symphony in the green forest of the Kalar’tai: the natives who stayed away from Lord Darchind’s capitol. The Force reverberated off of Uban constantly, as though he was a pebble being dropped into the direct center of an unending ocean, sending ripples out in all directions but also rocking back to him eventually. This was how he came to know such environments: not through his eyes, ears or perhaps scent, but through the Force. It took him a few hours to recognize how deep he’d gone into the Force and likewise the forest, but it was mid-afternoon when the small darkness he’d sensed growing in the forest became a hungry pang in the side of his stomach. There was a hollow, cold thing out there in the jungle, which batted his Force calm away angrily, trying to evade him. For that creature, there was no hope in evading Uban’s attention. Alec went further into the forest, trying to ready himself with what he might have to deal with. He had a vague sense that this disturbance in the Force might just be a predator enjoying the spoils of his hunt, but also a clear sense that it could very well be the revolutionaries trying to cover their tracks. Hopefully I can speak with them, maybe even find out more to this story of Darchind’s rise to power. Something was definitely missing . . The Jedi Master was glad he hadn’t brought his cloak for two reasons: the humidity and heat of the jungle would have clogged it with unneeded weight and the fact that Uban wouldn’t have been able to fully appreciate the beauty of the jungle around him. Just after crossing to the middle of a shallow streambed he came upon a water dwelling cross between an insect and some kind of reptilian. It had six legs and a tail that curved off to two sides in a V-fork at it’s end. It was a violet hue, and he noted it looked somewhat like Ikeeriot’s time he’d been bitten by an indigenous creature of Tatooine. What had the thing been called? A wamprat, Uban remembered. The lizard sped across the surface of the slow moving stream on it’s six nimble and spindly legs, skirting the edge first looking for young fish then going out into the middle of the creek. Uban smiled distantly, and when he stepped onto the other side of the river, he felt a dramatic change through the Force. It was colder, but that wasn’t just it—the jungle, a usual cacophony of critter noises and avian calls fell silent on this side. Uban’s smile faded slowly and drew into a concentrated look of concern. Had that been blaster fire he’d just heard? He walked on, and sure enough in the next ten meters of vine congested jungle he heard the mewing of distant laser fire. His hand touched the lightsaber at his side but decided against it for the moment. Perhaps they’re just holding target practice. I don’t want to have to come into their camp with a weapon in my hand. Like the vaguest of tremblings in the Force he’d felt, he could no longer believe he was going to end this conflict on Xolatis peacefully. Picking up the pace to a brisk jog, he filled his legs with the Force, drawing on it’s power like breathing in the air around him, it’s liquid Force streamed up and down his legs, relaxing and cooling his muscles as they tired and fending off his age’s cramps and early fatigue. Sweat slid down his shaved head as he started to run toward the blaster fire, which was more constant now, but he heard another weapon amid the tumult of the halting mewing of the lasers. A buzz, or a hum. He was sprinting through the jungle now, hesitating whether or not the weapons he was hearing were really shooting against the hum of a lightsaber. As far as he knew, no one else had been dispatched to Xolatis to deal with the situation, and he found it unlikely the Jedi Council would go over his head to do so. As far as he knew. Uban barely had time to stop at the edge of the jungle at the speed he was running at before he realized the edge was a literal edge, and there was a twenty foot drop-off at the end of the jungle. Breathing calmly and watching to his sides to see if there were any camp sentries, he crouched on his haunches and squinted through the foliage to see below. An encampment that was constructed out of a circle of deforested land, the place below him looked as if it were in a desert environment and the jungle had just crept up and stolen the land from it. This was not the case surely, because Alec could still feel the cold of the air, at least sixty degrees and he was in the jungle. It was very likely the result of the fight going on below him; a ramification exacted on the environment through the Force. Uban could see the man fighting the revolutionaries very clearly, and he even recognized he who was holding a blue bladed lightsaber. He wagged it through the air and batted away laser fire as if the shots had been taken by a child, and Uban knew this man had to be some Jedi who had strayed too far from the conventional maxims of Jedi: peace, justice; this wasn’t how this man fought. Uban had seen him kneeling before Lord Darchind, a man in a blue cloak with his hood drawn over his head. There was a Rodian male firing from behind the cover of a downed speeder. Another soldier, this one a female Human, was yelling to the Rodian for grenades, much to the dismay of the Rodian, who threw one only to have it halted above his head until it exploded, incinerating him. The Dark Jedi(for that was who Alec supposed this man was now) struck down two onrushing warriors: one was a human male and another a tall Trandoshan, a long way from home, Uban remarked in his thoughts. Before he could stand and drop down out of the forest, the Trandoshan’s head had been severed from it’s neck and the Human was halved by the man’s blue blade. Uban gathered himself in the Force and jumped down to the bottom of the encampment. There was smoke billowing out from the main compound in the center of the camp while smaller streams of dark gray were wisping out into the day’s blue sky. "Run!" Alec shouted to the female Human. "Get into the jungle!" Better she stays alive in the jungle, then I might be able to talk to her, salvage a better agreement between Darchind and the revolutionaries . .if one could be made after this. "Die scum!" She screamed, pulling a hold-out blaster from her sleeve. She shot twice at Alec, so fast that he barely had time to react—and when he did, he deflected them back toward her rather then away. He gritted his teeth and watched the red laser bolts slam into the woman and knock her dead to the ground. "Hold it." The man holding the blue lightsaber said to Alec. Uban leveled his own white lightsaber in front of him, waiting. "Why are you here? Lord Darchind told me I would be handling this." "This is Lord Darchind’s way of ‘handling’ a situation then, hm?" Alec Uban asked, gripping his lightsaber tightly. "Taking in a fallen Jedi and using him to do his bidding?" The man in the blue cloak laughed instantly. He threw his cloak off, revealing a black tunic and black pants, along with a pair of boots that glistened in the sun. He was a Human, but obviously disfigured by some kind of accident. Half of his face seemed to be melted and the features on that half were uneven with that of his other half. "You pitiful fool." He said. "Perhaps you remember me? My name is Vance D’leckan; and I am no fallen Jedi. I am Sith." Alec couldn’t help but let his jaw drop. This man was not a Sith. He couldn’t be. Sith held crimson lightsabers. They were extinct. The very fact that this man would say he was a Sith though—that raised a question in his mind. Was there someone training this man to become one? Vance said with a sneer, "I was a padawan of your ‘order’ once. Once I graduated to Knighthood, the Council sent me on a mission alone. It was suicide. They sent me to this," the man flicked his fingers over his half melted face. Uban shook his head slowly. "I don’t know anything about the Council sending you on a mission, and I’m sorry that I don’t remember you, but I’m going to give you one last chance to stop where you are. If you come with me back to Coruscant after all this is over, I will vouch for you to the Council. You were obviously in no shape to be sent on a mission and grief has shaken you. Turn back now—." He paused. "Please." He added desperately, looking at the ground, which was strewn with bodies. I can only vouch for him if they attacked him first . .if this was an unprovoked battle then he’ll be exiled . . "Ah!" Vance yelled out. "But I didn’t let them attack first! I was sent here on a mission to kill these violent anarchists!" "I was sent here to commence negotiations." Alec replied. If Darchind hadn’t suggested it to him, he would have done it anyway. If this wasn’t the only cell on the planet though, there would be reinforcements coming soon. "I’m sorry, but I won’t be detained any longer." Vance said. He started to walk to his right, which would have led him up a path back into the jungle through a narrow crevice in the rock wall surrounding the camp. "I can’t let you leave here, Vance." Uban said. "Come with me or I’ll be forced to—." "To what? Jedi?" Vance mocked. He had stopped walking and was bring his lightsaber up into his guard position. Alec sighed desperately. He permits me no choice. There is no passion; there is serenity. Alec Uban closed his eyes for one moment and felt a prickle in between his shoulder blades. He ducked easily but deftly. Vance’s blue blade swung right over Uban’s head and Uban could hear the hum of the lightsaber well enough to know he might be missing an ear the next time he decided to bring the code too far into battle with him. Graceless old legs, he griped inwardly as he leapt backward aided by the Force, feeling the soreness in his joints. Uban flipped backward and landed easily on his feet, ushering the younger combatant toward him by directing his white lightsaber out in front of him laterally and smiling. "Venerable, old man." Vance spat. He rushed in and slammed his lightsaber down, blue on white, and a blast of cold air expanded outward from them, the Force crackling between them. Uban danced backward a few steps and let Vance rush in again, but once the young man’s guard was down he went on the offensive. Uban slashed at Vance’s legs, bringing the man’s guard down below his waist. Uban kicked Vance in the chest, pushing him backward into a stumble worthy of a fall from anyone else—but this man had once been trained as a Jedi, so he kept balanced on the balls of his feet. "Good, old man but—." Before Vance could finish, Uban stretched out his hand and pushed with all his Force might, an involuntary growl of thunder issuing from his grasp. Vance went tumbled through the air, landing with a crack of the back against the landspeeder the Rodian had been hiding behind. "Minds your manners, young one." Alec scolded, wiping his lip with his free wrist. Uban strode up the Vance, who was still on the ground when he felt the danger sense in between his shoulder blades once more. He flicked his lightsaber over to his free hand and let it dance behind his back, reacting fast enough to bat the laser shots away, but more freedom fighters were on their way to the camp. Someone must have escaped and tipped them off to the attack. Alec turned his head back just in time to see Vance swinging downward at him with both arms on his lightsaber’s hilt. No time! Alec thought. He dropped his lightsaber to the ground. Just have to hope I’m stronger then him! He raised his arms and clutched Vance’s wrists below the hands and held them there. They struggled, Vance roaring out of exhaustion. The Force flooded into Alec and he closed and opened his eyes calmly. The Force is my ally, not anger. "You dirty son of a nerfherder!" Vance screamed. With one last push of rage he tried to complete his swing. Alec would have been cut down the middle of his head had he not used the Force to pick up and ignite his lightsaber. He stabbed Vance through the chest and held it there for just a moment. Vance’s eyes went wide and bloodshot and he fell off the blade. His own blue lightsaber fell to the ground, extinguished. Uban knelt quickly by Vance and looked at the man’s eyes. There were tears rolling out of them, and Uban had no doubt such a wound would hurt that much. To break a former Jedi’s resolve like this though . . Vance coughed hoarsely. "You’ll—." Uban clipped his own lightsaber onto his belt and took Vance’s. "You’ll never win—he is—Sith . ." Vance gasped. His dying words. Uban shook his head at the fallen Jedi and tucked Vance’s lightsaber inside his tunic. He heard the crunches and footfalls behind him, not close, but within shooting distance. Uban stood up from his knees and groaned inwardly at the pain. Once I’m in the jungle I’ll be able to hide but now—. The mewl of blaster fire started to pepper the ground around him. Uban rushed back the way he’d come from, sprung into the jungle with a Force-aided leap and started his long journey back to the capitol.

.5 Anduil Siron was fiddling with the lightsaber he was trying to create when a shock hit the shuttle as if it had been hit. Anduil’s eyes darted toward the cabin in front of the shuttle but he felt the furry wookie hand of Jedi Master Beserek on his shoulder. "Calm yourself, Anduil. We just came out of Hyperspace." Anduil nodded and returned his dead down to look at his lightsaber. He couldn’t bear to bring his face to look on Ikeeriot. He was angry with Anduil for some reason, and sarcastic remarks aside, Ikeeriot rarely let his anger go past petty annoyance. He’s going to be a Knight soon enough. I don’t know what he’s so angry about. Maybe it’s just that he’s worried about Master Uban. Anduil rolled his eyes at himself. He’s just mad at me. I have to focus on this though, or the only thing I’ll manage to do is cut my fingers off with the blade. The hilt of the lightsaber was metallic gray and when he sat with it on his leg, it stretched from his waist to his knee. "You plan to wield a double-sided lightsaber?" Jedi Master Orsin Beserek asked, astonished. "Are you sure you should be doing this so . .early in your Knighthood?" "When did you decide to use two lightsabers in battle, Master Beserek?" Anduil counted calmly. He tweaked the focusing crystal just a bit . . and there! "Point taken." Beserek grumbled in his trademark wookie growl. Anduil stood up and looked around the shuttle before he decided to press the ignite button on his lightsaber. A few Rodians, a Twi’lek and a padawan Human looking at him. Ikeeriot watched his friend’s lightsaber carefully and hoped for the best. Anduil pressed both the buttons on his lightsaber. Two green blades splashed out of the gray cylinder, equal in length from the hilt’s opening. Beserek was clapping lightly and the rest of the people in the shuttle watched with frightened curiosity, suddenly wondering if they’d done something wrong. "Do you think this situation might be dangerous enough for Master Uban to call in the Paladins in for help?" Ikeeriot asked Beserek. Beserek shrugged his hairy shoulders. "Perhaps you should meditate on it, if you feel that strongly of the situation." Ikeeriot cast a glance back at his friend’s ignited lightsaber. "I’m just saying, he might foresee something else that could be happening if he wanted all of us there on Xolatis." Beserek nodded slowly and thoughtfully. "Perhaps that is the case." "So why not call more of the Order to our aid? Why not send for a Councilman?" Ikeeriot asked. Beserek shook his head. "Ordinarily I’m sure such a Master’s requests would be deemed neccassary, but since the war we cannot spare any more of our Order’s Masters then we need to. The war with the Mandalorians is hurting our numbers, and if there isn’t a decisive victory soon, I fear there never will be." Ikeeriot cocked his head in fascination. "Have you communed with the Force on this?" Beserek nodded silently. "Why haven’t you alerted the council then?" Ikeeriot asked. Anduil shut off his lightsaber and sat down next to Beserek and started to fiddle with the instruments inside his lightsaber again. "My vision was very clouded, young Ikeeriot. I’m not sure what it meant. All I know is that something is coming. Something . ." He decided not to finished his statement. Another day, he thought cautiously. "In any event, if the Paladins step in, that will undoubtedly mean half of the JWJ will too. They are always a joint venture, as far as I know." "Aren’t the Paladins already supposed to be stepping in with something like forty-five local systems outside of the Core that are in political conflict? How could they spare more soldiers?" "They are Jedi like any of us, Anduil. There’s no need to tarnish that title by giving them another . .they’re not soldiers." Beserek growled back. "Master, they’re the Jedi that we can’t control and the whole Order knows this." Anduil replied evenly. "No, Anduil." Beserek said. His voice was a durosteel wall that slammed right into his former apprentice. "They are the most oriented to combat. We do not control anyone." "Perhaps I exaggerated, but those who join the Paladins or JWJ must have some similar reasons for leaving the Order and pursuing . .a more combat oriented way of life." The wookie named Orsin nodded. "You are correct, but if the Force calls to them in that way . .so be it." "What of the Sith then?" Ikeeriot spoke up. Beserek and Anduil turned their heads to regard him in unison. "What of them?" Beserek replied. "If the Paladins are to take a more aggressive form of the Jedi way, then what’s to stop them from learning the ways of the old Sith and taking up their torch? They could provoke civil war within our ranks easily." Beserek looked both surprised and relieved. "You are smarter then you look, Padawan Ikeeriot." "Thanks." Ikeeriot said dryly, rolling his eyes. "Truly, I do not mean to offend you. I hadn’t thought that they might tip into the Dark Side of the Force if left untended, but perhaps that is why my thoughts are clouded lately. Perhaps the Dark Side is growing once more." "You’re not serious?" Anduil asked, narrowing his eyes. Beserek nodded. "It could be. We should be watchful in any event." "It’s not like people haven’t questioned the Paladin and their allies in JWJ before now!" Anduil exclaimed, exhausted with the conversation. "Patience." Ikeeriot said calmly, taking an odd day to quote a Jedi maxim. "Obviously we’re not here to solve any problems we might have with the Paladins or any other segment of the Order." Beserek noted. "We’re here to help Lord Darchind and the dispute he has with some revolutionaries." Anduil and Ikeeriot agreed with nods. The shuttle was landing, the underbelly of the thing was shuddering as the landing claws extended outward to connect with the ground of Xolatis.

4. Alec Uban walked into the throne room flanked by Valecka and her own guards to see Lord Darchind sitting in his customary throne, speaking to a man kneeling in front of him swaddled in a cloak. Darchind too was formless beneath the black cloak he wore and his unblinking, glowing red eyes peered out at Alec appraisingly. Alec’s first inclination once more was that he was a Sith. He dashed it away just as quickly as he had against Valecka. These people were just unfamiliar to him. Alec stood in front of Darchind for a moment then bowed. "Lord Darchind, it is with the utmost respect we accept your allegiance into the Republic. "It is good to meet you, finally." Darchind was silent for a moment, still looking at Alec Uban and seemingly sizing him up. He nodded to Valecka and she left the room alongside the blue cloaked man. Alec Uban sensed a certain familiarity in the blue cloak but turned his attention fully onto Darchind. "I am truly sorry, I was attending to a prior matter." Darchind finally said. His voice was low but leaked out with such liquid ease of a seasoned politician it almost sent a shiver down Uban’s spine. "No apologies needed, I was sent here to help you deal with a problem however, but I feel that somehow you might have everything under control . ." Alec started. "You must be referring to the curfew I’ve instituted." Darchind said. Uban nodded silently. "This has done away with some of the violence and threat levels—." Darchind started. "Violence? Of what sort?" Uban asked. "The attempts on my life most immediately. Yesterday the insurgents and dissidents orchestrated a riot during a gather in the town square. We were about to hold a parade celebrating the relative peace when they struck . ." "I’m sorry," Alec Uban answered. "I wasn’t made aware of such events. I gather you are past the time for peaceful negotiations with these . .dissidents as you call them?" "Correct." Darchind replied. "Like any ruler of a people, I give the power to disagree with me freely, but they have not taken any of their qualms up with me peacefully. I as the elected president of the Xolatians, have a right to demand you step in and control the situation, correct?" Uban nodded but corrected Lord Darchind minutely. Interesting, he thought. "We are here to resolve the problematic situation. We choose not to deviate or control a situation—those are ways of the—." "Dark side. I have been educated on your order for the last few weeks, Master Jedi. I find the way of the Jedi both difficult to understand but perfectly understandable as a role in the Republic. I am only saying that these villains are attacking my people without cause. If I were a warrior of your nature I would go out on my own, but I am only a politician, as you might already have assumed." Lord Darchind spoke. His voice echoed against the chamber walls, dank but illuminated, the place was gloomy but not dark. Alec Uban found it unsettling. Like a facade, he thought quickly. "I am glad you understand our role in the Republic, Lord. I wish to facilitate this struggle to the best of my ability, and in two days, my padawan learner and another two Jedi will be on the way at my request," Assuming Siron passed the trials, Alec thought dryly. He was a good padawan, but Anduil had only a thin grasp of the living Force as a part of life. However, Jedi were allowed to discover this on their own, through their experiences. "Very well." Lord Darchind said, content. There was a small beep from the arm of his throne chair but he ignored it. "Lord Darchind, I was actually wondering about a few things, if we are done with the most immediate business?" Alec Uban asked. "Certainly. I am always willing to illuminate the mind." Lord Darchind spoke, with just a hint of a dry tone, too, Uban surmised. "I was to enquire about your population—are you mostly native to your planet, or have you been receiving immigrants with open arms?" Alec asked. Darchind nodded, his eyes, red as blood still unblinking. "Valecka and her guards aroused speculation?" Alec nodded. "They came here just a few days prior to your arrival. They were taken in, having heard their story about an . .inflammatory issue in their system?" Darchind posed. Alec nodded but frowned. He had no idea that Gamorr had been under attack by the Mandalorians. "I was not aware their home planet was being attacked . ." Alec ventured. If that was how the war was going, then he would be on the front lines within a few months. Darchind shook his hooded head. "No, they were ejected by a planetary government . .but you mention war?" Alec held his jaw in place. He’d just been lured and he’d taken the bait. How could he not have seen it coming? Perhaps I am too close. "Yes, we are currently defending ourselves in a war against an honor driven race called the Mandalorians." Darchind nodded. Satisfied, no doubt, Alec thought. There is more to this one then meets the eye. "Are your Jedi and the military engaged in dual command-ship against their forces?" Alec considered for a moment but knew he’d been duped once again. "We have no formal military however—." "So your Jedi are spread thin?" Lord Darchind asked. "Will there be an adequate amount of your Jedi to attend to the matter on Xolatis?" "I assure you Lord Darchind, there will be enough." Alec said. "What of your military? You said you don’t have one. Am I to believe that those who are to keep and preserve peace in the galaxy have no fleet or ships?" "Lord Darchind, we have many allies in the Republic. The fact that we ourselves do not have our own ships does not mean the Republic doesn’t have a fighting force." Alec replied. He didn’t like where this was going. "So am I to assume you draw on the worlds inside the Republic for military aide and resources?" Darchind asked. Again, Alec had to restrain himself from showing amazement. His Jedi Master calm was one of many reputed from within the Order, but the way this man spoke . .it was articulate, yet obscure enough for his motive to not be seen until it was too late. "Yes. You would be correct, but—." "I hope you do not assume by us joining the Republic you will have free reign over the resource rights we hold." Lord Darchind spoke calmly. "I assure you, my journey here was made only to help mediate your problems." Alec replied just as calm. Lord Darchind nodded, seemingly satisfied. "I would speak with you more, but I am receiving communications from one of my aides at the moment. Would you excuse me, Master Jedi?" Alec nodded but Lord Darchind was already standing then striding from the room in his black cloak without another word. I was ill-prepared for this, Alec Uban thought. His thoughts were on the incoming Jedi and how long they would really take to get to Xolatis. He found it disheartening that he might have to face Lord Darchind and his maze-like way of speaking again alone. Lord Darchind strode out of his throne room and down a narrow blue-stone hallway. There was a long mural on the wall depicting a great battle on Xolatis’ surface from the beginnings of their culture, and he spent many a night watching it and finding peace within the frozen moments of chaos within it. There was a fork at the end of the hallway and he took to the left. It went to the communications room, where he would have liked the Jedi Master to think he was going. At the corner wall that faced Communications, Darchind pressed a hidden button and the corner rotated away, revealing a small but manageable staircase. Darchind stalked down it awkwardly as he always did, finding that it was better that he depend on his tunnel vision accosted by his hood then grow dependant on the full awareness given to him by taking the thing off. He was use it’s limits to bolster his senses once he did have to take the hood or cloak off. The stairs ran along in a spiral fashion for a few hundred feet before expanding out into a flat stony environment. There, underneath the castle was his real place of meditation and relaxation. The castle itself was situated on top of a giant underground cave system. The flat space of his underground throne room allowed for about the same room as his above ground one did, at which point the place plummeted off of a cliff. Darchind came to a Holo-station and clicked it hurriedly on. Darchind had no worries about the Jedi Master Alec Uban. He was in the dark about everything going on atop Xolatis’ surface, let alone what went on underground. Out from the Holo-station(camouflaged with rocks and stones to make it look primitive) sprung the figure of a blue head. An segmented, armor faced head, wearing a ghostly black but reflective T-visor that was equated with none other then the greatest warriors the galaxy had ever seen: The Mandalorians. "Lord Darchind, you disappoint me with your lack of speed to contact me," the man behind the mask, known only to Darchind Voskar, rasped. "I am sorry, Lord Voskar, but I was attending to our . .guest. I trust that you and the battleships are well rested?" Darchind groveled. This man knows even less then the Jedi, he sneered inwardly. "No, Darchind, we’re not rested." Voskar growled. To fill the space, opportunity allowed Darchind this chance mercifully to calculate his plans that much more. "Perhaps you would hold over for a week or so in order for you to regain your force’s composure? They surely must be tired? Perhaps in the Ryloth system—." "We need no rest!" Voskar exclaimed. "The Mandalorians are the greatest warriors in the galaxy! Our composure is gathered!" "I was only thinking that if you had time to confer with my own tacticians and pilots you might grow accustomed to being under independent command—." Darchind bobbled. "Assuming your payment is transacted, I and my troops will give you the ships bought and will be back on our way to the front. Your money will allow for the construction of at least thirty new battleships like the three we have sold you. Tell me, why have you given your planet’s riches away for only three at such a hefty sum?" The Mandalorian asked. Unblinking but relieved eyes returned the Mandalorian’s question with silence for just a moment. Darchind recovered, "We simply want protection for when our time comes to fight, if need be." The Mandalorian seemed to consider it but didn’t pursue it. "We will hold in the Ryloth system for approximately nine days." The T-visored, motionless helmet dissipated then vanished with a wink of blue. Nine days, Darchind thought. Nine days will be fine.

.3 Anduil Siron, an eighteen year old Human kept up with Master Shi’lynn, a thirty-nine year old female Miraluka. Miraluka, born blind to light but inherently able to sense the world through the force. She moved like a siren across ghostly calm water through the winding, unfamiliar halls of the newly constructed Jedi temple on Coruscant. The two of them entered the ground floor of one of the four spires that surrounded the center-most, thicker spire whose top floor was occupied by the grand jedi council chamber. The elevator glided upward softly without much sound and left the two in silence. "Your Master Orsin Beserek was sorry to not attend the trials, young Siron." Anduil turned to this with his jaw dropped. He tried to lift it back up into place and found it was easier thought to be done then actually executed. "I was under the impression my master was setting the trials up," he said, his voice cracking on ‘up’. Shi’lynn nodded quietly. "He had business to attend to—he did set it up however before he left to take care a small matter offworld." She hesitated to state what it was at first, and Anduil could sense this. "It shouldn’t take more then a day or two for him to be back, then you will be on your way to helping Master Uban and his apprentice with the diplomatic situation on Xolatis." "We’re to help Ikeeriot and Alec?" Anduil asked eagerly. "Master Alec, I mean." Shi’lynn nodded again but said nothing, taking a step forward just in time for the elevator to stop and the door to slide open for her to step through. Her command of the Force was uncanny, at least Anduil thought so. She smiled as though she overheard his very thoughts, "Soon, a day will come when others may think the same of you, padawan Siron, if you are to pass the Trial set before you." Anduil nodded, a little disheveled from having his thoughts read so plainly. They both stepped out into the plain circular room and stood, Anduil at least, looking out the tall and wide window panes that stretched upward to almost reach the top of the ceiling’s cone shape. "There is a door, am I correct, Siron?" Shi’lynn stated more then asked, letting her hand drift out in the direction of the huge door. Behind it was a catwalk that led from this corner spire to the middle of the Jedi Temple’s spire structures. There was no walls or even railings guarding the edge of the catwalk between each spire. Only a jedi’s balance would get someone from one spire to another, balancing against the wind sheers at such height and the height itself. Shi’lynn exited the room and walked all the way down the catwalk and into the adjacent Jedi Council room where she took a seat in her newly appointed chair. Anduil watched her walk all the way, sensing that he was going to have to walk it alone. A part of the trial. Still, it seems like a pleasantry then a real part of the trial . .I mean any jedi could walk across such a thing, I think a few younglings could walk across with no problems . .he thought. His heart sank when he looked at the catwalk outside though and dipped a little lower when he heard the howl of the graceless wind. The door opened of it’s own accord seemingly, but to anyone who was a jedi they would have known he slid the door open with a slight waggle of his fingers. Sure enough the wind was howling with every bit of tenacity it owned and commanded at such a height. A surge of fear planted Anduil Siron to the floor. He had never been fond of heights, but this situation in front of him demanded that he ignore the tiny fear inside of him. His very name and title demanded that he forget all of that emotion. There is no emotion; there is peace. He took a deep breath and took his first step. He looked from his left and then to his right, seeing huge clouds of congested, Coruscanti air traffic racing to and fro, but there was nothing in his vicinity except for the wind. Another step. He exhaled easily and started to walk just as easily. Swimming in pools and eddies around him was the Force and every time he breathed inward his thoughts grew clearer, more attuned and his physical nervousness wilted away like a flower touched by winter. About a quarter of the way across the catwalk, images started to stab into his Force calmed mind and pelt him with uneasiness, like a storm raining discouragement. Thoughts, painful memories, premonitions, all of them crackled with Force energy and snapped and scratched at him like an animal. He was in a whirlwind of the Force, he could feel both it and the wind pushing against him, forcing him off balance and trying to push him off the catwalk. His Wookie Jedi Master, Orsin, who’d been abandoned to a smuggler’s doorstep and took the name of that same smuggler, came to Anduil Siron in a past memory, a very young one: ‘Calm yourself padawan, remember what we do when we cannot find our calm?’ Orsin had inquired through the translator he wore. Anduil had been trying to balance pebbles through the air and create a pyramid out of them, an easy starting lesson for most padawans. Anduil, who had thought he would have been the first to get done, hadn’t yet had the grasp or understanding of the Force the other students had. Anduil remembered though, he remembered clearly that he thought it was just like turning on the water or as simple as walking—his overconfidence had made him wrong that day. Other students had finished, and whole class had, but Anduil had stayed, even after the lesson had concluded. Orsin came to him then, just as Anduil was hoping he could gather the pebbles in the pyramid shape. ‘We wait,’ Anduil had said in reply to his master. ‘But why do we have to wait? Why can’t we just make it happen when we want it to?’ Orsin replied with a thin smile. Anduil had been very young, but Orsin had to be stern with his answer—it was a question most asked by the young and inexperienced. Why. ‘To wait is a Jedi’s way—to let the Force come up with it’s own solution. To try and make anything happen is far too aggressive. Calm and meditation, young padawan, never aggression and easy path. Those are the things of the Dark Side, things of which you want no part of.’ So, high above certain death, Anduil wrestled with his inner fear. He was balancing on one foot, leaning one way, the Force tugging him and the wind pushing him. He half closed his eyes, a dangerous thing he knew, but let himself be pulled into the tugging current of the Force. He felt his body drop off the catwalk and underneath it, but at the last second his arms shot up and grabbed it’s ledge, catching it and with the Force streaming through his body like a river, he swung back up into the air on the other side of the catwalk and landed on two feet. ‘The Force is in everything—in the earth, in the sky, in the wind, it is what binds the galaxy together,’ another teacher echoed through his mind. So Anduil began walking again. He came to the glass door and stretched out with the Force into the Council chamber. It was pitch black, by some way he didn’t know, no rays from the setting sun pierced the glass window to illuminate the chamber. Anduil opened the door and stepped in, finding himself like the tournament circle he’d come from, shrouded not by steam now, but by total eclipse. Stretched thin in the Force in all directions, Anduil came to what he felt was the center of the room. He turned and tried to locate himself relative to the light filtering in from his entrance, but he found that too, was no longer there. He felt sudden vertigo within the blackness, feeling as though he was floating through space. The Force alerted him to the attack from behind, and just in a nick of time. Ba-zew, came a red blast bolt from behind him. Anduil’s hands dipped to his side and his blue green lightsaber ignited and deflected the bolt—not back to it’s source, but gratefully, in any other direction. Anduil felt the room around him begin to settle from the intense red light that the blaster bolt had cast and now the green glow of his lightsaber settled down over his body and out over the room. A distant clank, then a dink, and a brilliant WHOOSH as a grenade was propelled through the air toward Anduil. His eyes widened, assassin droid! He knew it wasn’t right after he thought that, but either way, a grenade had been thrown. Using the Force he grasped the grenade, kept it flying through the air and then threw his lightsaber toward where he thought the door was and heard a great crash of the glass shattering. A moment later a distant BOOM as the grenade blew up in the air outside the Temple. Anduil called back the lightsaber to him just in time, hearing the metal footsteps coming rapidly toward him, when he gripped the lightsaber he swiped once, ducked under the bi-sected droid’s first and last punch and swung behind him, clipping the head from it’s robotic neck. Anduil held the pose, his lightsaber held out behind him arced upward and his other hand dropped onto the ground for balance. He took a steady, deep breath. There is no passion; there is serenity. A small blue flash in front of him and then a holograph appeared showing none other then his Master Orsin Beserek. He was speaking: "Anduil, if you are watching this, then by now, I must be dead. My mission must have proved more dangerous then I had thought," the voice went on, but Anduil couldn’t hear it above the clamor in his head. No! He can’t be dead! Wait, another voice said. Calm. There is no ignorance; there is knowledge. He is not dead. You would have felt it. The link between padawan and master is one that exceeds the stars. He nodded once and forced his hand through the hologram, and it vanished. "Very well, Jedi Knight Anduil Siron," the familiar voice of Shi’lynn interrupted the silent black of the Council chamber. Her violet lightsaber lit behind him and he straightened perfectly, not even noticing that she hadn’t called him padawan. A familiar Wookie snuffed and roared in it’s own language too and the blue lightsaber of his Master Beserek lit to Shi’lynn’s side. "You have done well, Orsin," a voice came, and then another green blade ignited, showing the face of a small but powerful Bothan Jedi Master—his fur ruffled against the emerald light his saber cast. Two more blades, one orange and another white, from a Bloodcarver and a Twi’Lek, ignited and the blackness of the room ceased. All of the lights joined together and became a general light source. All of the Jedi masters formed around Anduil Siron rose their blades above him and recited the jedi code: "There is no emotion; there is peace. There is no ignorance; there is knowledge. There is no passion; there is serenity. There is no death; there is only the," "Force." Anduil Siron finished, sensing the gaping hole in the code as the room fell silent once more. Satisfaction flooded him from his Wookie master and Orsin stepped forward with his blade still ignited. He swiped once behind Anduil and cut the padawan braid off of Anduil’s head. Anduil watched it hit the floor and allowed himself a smile. "You are a Knight, now," Orsin said through his vocabulator-droid. "Go, serve the galaxy as a guardian to those who need protection and serve the Force." The lightsabers in the room fizzled and shut off, each of the Jedi Masters greeting him and shaking his head, giving them their congratulations. "Thank you," he said to each of them. Shi’lynn smiled at him when he did so. "Perhaps your friend Ikeeriot will become a Knight someday soon too." Anduil nodded. "I hope he will." He turned to his Master—no, he turned to Orsin. "Are we still to go to Xolatis?" Orsin nodded. "As soon as you’re ready . .and once Ikeeriot goes through his punishment. It would be a waste of resources if he did not just come with us. However," he gave his goodbyes to the Master filtering out of the council chamber. "However we will only be there shortly. It is a small political dispute and I sense Master Uban won’t need our help anyway, but . ." "What?" Anduil asked. "Nothing. It’s nothing." Orsin replied. "We will be going to the front of the war after Xolatis, to fight the Mandalorians." Anduil narrowed his eyes. "I don’t think it is our place to be fighting like soldiers, Master. We’re guardians." He cringed afterward, remembering, not master. Orsin chuckled in his Wookie way, picking up on his former padawan’s thoughts only a bit. "It is our duty to protect all those threatened, and if those who are threatened are in the Republic and are attacked from outside our Republic, then it is those who attack we must thwart." Anduil nodded, not totally agreeing, but to some degree understanding his former Master’s thoughts. "Am I to build a new lightsaber on the way to Xolatis?" Orsin nodded and looked like he remembered something and out from the satchel behind a small chair to his left he withdrew a wooden box. "These are three crystals. Choose one and may it be chosen well." Anduil nodded but pushed the box away. "I will construct it during the flight there. We should get going now though, shouldn’t we?" Orsin’s shaggy head nodded. "I sense that your friend Ikeeriot is growing fairly impatient with his punishment as it is . ."

Zyzeji the first

Here's my new character I drew today. I named him Zyzeji, which pretty I just thought sounds cool. I'm prolly gonna use him in my next comic issue too.

Read the awesomeness!

Just thought I'd say that you gotta read the Stories Wraith (Winter) is posting, they're awesome StarWars stories. Don't pass them by! Ok here's Titus, Winter's character who is gonna be in one of comics soon. This is my version of 'im.

.2

There was a chorus of clapping hands and the center of Jedi Padwan Ikeeriot grew just a bit colder and flimsier. He was by choice in this tournament, but he was beginning to regret the warm reception to his master's invitation to participate in the dueling tournament. These padawans were all strong with their lightsaber skills and dueling stances. I like to take it as it comes, Ikeeriot though, brushing back a small flank of hair that had drooped down in front of his eyes. He had the strangest feeling that this was another test from his Master, Alec Uban, and that soon Master Uban was going to let him go through the Trials of becoming a Jedi Knight. Ikeeriot, atop the farthest bleacher seat upward shook his head slightly. I don't know if I'm ready. He felt a jolt of exhilaration and confidence nearby and knew instantly who it was rather then what. His good friend from before being an Apprentice---Anduil Siron, jogged up the bleachers and greeted Ikeeriot cheerfully, "Hello, Ikeeriot!" He bowed before his friend and without the young man's dark blue cloak over his Siron's tunic, Ikeeriot thought his friend looked ridiculous doing such a gesture. "Sit down buddy," Ikeeriot said, propping his back against the wall. Anduil nodded and did, not before rolling his eyes of course. "I've seen a nerfherder happier then you on a regular day," Anduil commented. Ikeeriot felt vaguely aware of the friendly prod and thought, if I was a nerfherder, at least then I wouldn't be having to duel these padawans . . .what are they putting in the temple's water these days anyway? It was true enough---Ikeeriot was tall but by no means a severely physical threat. The other padawans were well toned and physically fit from their field missions with their masters. I shouldn't be jealous, he thought. Master Uban is beyond the best master I could have been an apprentice to. "One more duel and then I'm going in," Ikeeriot said. He eyed the dueling ring below, an orange plastic mat set out on the drab gray floor of the newly constructed Temple training room. "I don't know why they need two temples, one here and one on Dantooine," Anduil started dreamily, keeping his main attention on the duel which was getting under way. His brown eyes probed the small circle below him and Ikeeriot beneath a pair of hanging blondish bangs. There was also a small scar on his cheek, an affect of a dueling tournament just like one of these. He'd never been blaster-shy afterward though. He'd just earned another scar on his chin from his last mission with his own master, Orsin when they'd fallen into a trap laid by two craft bounty hunters with vibro-axes. "This is more of an auxillary temple though, wouldn't you say?" "I don't think padawans should be speaking of such a matter," Ikeeriot returned sarcastically. Anduil gave him a smile but Ikeeriot didn't return the glance. "Look, it's starting," he nodded down toward the dueling circle. They both looked on, but Ikeeriot focused on the taller padawan with the buzz cut. He was younger but also the favorite of the tournament. Ikeeriot was sixteen and strong in the force, but that was what his Master told him, and although he meant no disrespect, Ikeeriot didn't put too much faith in others words. The tall padawan in the circle was fifteen, maybe a little younger by a few months. The other padawan in the circle with the taller opponent was a shorter Bith. This was partly why the taller, Human padawan was favored for at least this fight, Ikeeriot reasoned. A Bith are ruled by rules and regulations, he'll be too easy to read if and when he stays inside the parameters of the usual lightsaber stances. "You shouldn't be so transparent yourself," Anduil warned Ikeeriot, sensing a little of his friend's overconfidence in species classifications. "I might say Humans are prone to freezing up when they're afraid," he prodded at his friend once more. This drew Ikeeriot glance, a small lip curl evident on his face. "You might just worry about yourself then, my little kowakian monkey lizard." Ikeeriot returned. Anduil laughed and sat back against the wall. "Good one." Ikeeriot nodded silently and watched the circle intently. The familiar snap-hiss of the padawan's dialed down lightsabers occupied the air and suddenly the room was a lot more quiet. Padawans and teachers alike were watching intently, from the stands and from right outside the dueling ring. "Go." A small droid voice said. At once the Bith padawan took the upper hand---he probed the human's defenses time and again, slashing horizontally and downward toward his opponent too. The human looked a bit worried, to Ikeeriot, he even seemed to be sending out a few ripples of anxiety through the Force. For just a moment, Ikeeriot doubted his jedi instincts and thought that the Bith might win . . After this happened, the human darted inward to the Bith's open guard stance and nicced the Bith's pelvis lightly with the training saber. "Ah!" A yelp escaped the male Bith and he fell to his knee. The human backed away, holding for his opponent to get up. The droid's voice reentered the dueling circle, "One point to Kyl Beeoluve, three points for one successful win," and there was just a bit of clamor in the voices and the Force behind the padawans and teachers watching, but then silence prevaded again. The Bith stood, visibily shaken by the invasion of his guard. Ripples of anxiety were all but gone from Kyl, but waves of the stuff were lapping off the other students, sent by the Bith, like a beach coast receiving ocean waves. Kyl made the first move this time, probing his opponents guard extensively before almost tripping up the Bith. To the Bith's credit, and mostly to Kyl's mistake, the alien padawan slid under Kyl's outstretched legs and poked him in the small of the back, producing a yelp from Kyl and then he touched where he'd been hit with a certain tenderness that more then one of the teachers thought merited a chuckle. As the Bith student rose up and straightened his legs, Kyl went on the attack, slashing once at his opponent, was parried, but then swept the legs out from under the cautious Bith. It seemed the pale-faced, black globe-eyed Bith was more confused then hurt by this break in chivalrous fighting then anything. "The score two to one, in favor of padawan Kyl," the droid's voice said. The Bith bit out icily to the droid's voice, "We know what the score is!" The Bith's master gave his padawan an icy look that told him of reprimand after the duel. The padawan didn't need to have precognitive Force aided intuition to see that. Anduil tried to send the Bith a ray of confidence in the Force, but Anduil too received a dirty look from the Bith. Ikeeriot didn't miss the tri-play on this and chuckled, muttering something under his breath about 'not trying to help everyone'. Anduil turned to his friend and glared, but Ikeeriot stayed focused on the fight. "If they tie it'll go to a breaker. I feel it coming on." Ikeeriot said, his voice quivering a little. He did feel a prickle of the Force telling him to look for something more in this duel, but it still amazed him that he got that kind of intuition sometimes. Skepticism quickly flooded Anduil Siron's face but another padawan bent backward from his seat and asked playfully, "I'll give ya odds with you want to bet on that, Iker." Ikeeriot laughing at this openly but kept it quiet enough to not draw the attention of teachers of other padawans. "Don't let me hear that sort of talk ever again in the temple, young man," Ikeeriot chided playfully back. They all turned back to the dueling circle. Kyl tried once more to sweep the legs out from under the Bith but evidently the alien had grasped the fact that his opponent wasn't going to be playing by any rules this time. He jumped over the kick and swept his own blue blade down on Kyl's leg, evoking a cry of pain and embarrassment from Kyl. Kyl suppressed a grimace standing straight up, and that was when Ikeeriot took what he'd been watching and took it one step further. The grimace---Ikeeriot narrowed his eyes and tensed his eyesight, searching with both that and his Force attuned mind to see where the pain had come from. His eyes half closed, Ikeeriot felt the pain flowing from a small lightning strike in the cloud of nerves flowing throughout the muscles in Kyl's leg. "Which muscle cloud?" he muttered to himself, evicting a confused glance from Anduil. Twisting and swerving through the human's leg, Ikeeriot felt his eye sight replaced by thousands of fissures and hair-pin lines instead of what was going on right in front of him---the duel. He suddenly knew what he was looking at but tried to hide his quiet astonishment at what he was looking at. Plainly in front of him, there was Kyl's weakness, the small pain in his leg that he'd tried to hide a grimace from when he'd stood. It was where it was that convinced Ikeeriot that it was a weakness---right above the shin but below the knee, inside the calve muscle. Ikeeriot stretched out thorugh the Force and felt the image last just a little longer, but then the muscles writhed and constricted and turned into wavy lines in front of his eyes. Ikeeriot opened his eyes back up and found the duel commenced once more, but this time there was steam rising from grates in the floor. "Great." he said to the padawan in front of him silently. "I could have even tried for odds on the steam too," he joked. Anduil gave him a lifted eyebrow but they both turned their eyes back onto the duel. It was thick steam and soon both combatants were covered in the white stuff, drifting up and out of the opening canopy window high above in the temple's tall ceiling. Hopefully people don't think this place is burning, Ikeeriot thought quickly, I'd hate to think of the expenses it took to build this place. All up to their skill in the Force now, Ikeeriot thought. What I would give for steam. He got a chill, like the return of a distant memory, but no more then that. He took the chill as a sign but didn't give it too much significance. Like most of his Force driven intuition, it wouldn't be useful until it was useful. He was brave enough to not ask about that at least. The WHUM of one of the padawans lightsabers sang out and afterward there was a familiar yelp: that of the Bith padawan. There was just a moment of tense silence, a master lifted her hand and Force shoved the rest of the billowing steam away and revealed the Bith on one of his knees and Kyl standing triumphantly, shutting down his lightsaber. "Padawan Beeoluve succeeds to the next round!" the voice of the droid related. There was a round of clapping, then a turning of heads, waiting for the next opponent to be announced, but most knew who it was. Gazes turned on Ikeeriot and he felt a little uneasy. He felt a hand on his shoulder and a warm smile from his friend. "You'll do fine, Iker." "I guess," Ikeeriot said, standing and brushing past the sitting padawans before his name could be announced by the sparring droid, who was floating out in the middle of the ring with Kyl at his right. The droid was but a glowing sphere the size of a big juice-melon and had two arms that dangled below it's hovering body. "Padawan Nory please---." "I'm here, circuit brains." Ikeeriot said. With a minute flick backwards of his shoulders he threw his cloak to the ground and revealed his drab olive but traditional Jedi tunic and the lightsaber clipped at his side. "Good, we can get on with the tournament," the droid said. Not the least bit testily either, Ikeeriot thought openly sarcastic. He nodded once to Kyl, who bowed instead. The droid left the circle and Ikeeriot bowed and unclipped his lightsaber. "Commence," the droid called. For a few moments, nothing happened. Kyl could see what he thought was Ikeeriot getting ready for the duel, and giving him the time he needed to assume his own guard position. Ikeeriot held his lightsaber tightly out to the side, but didn't ignite it. His arm stayed where it was and Ikeeriot looked at Kyl narrowly, pulling in the Force to him like sonar or radar might detect the slightest bit of blip on the screen. Kyl was obviously confused but ignited his own lightsaber. Ikeeriot stayed where he was, watching Kyl closely but still held his bladeless weapon to the side of him, his armpit and outstretched arm making a right triangle in the negative space of his body's shape. Ikeeriot could sense in shuddering waves Kyl's anxiety and confidence in the same moments, but Ikeeriot's Force senses could only help him for so long, if he went too long, he grew very tired, very quickly. Kyl took a deep breath, which none of them would have seen from the bleachers, and darted forward against Ikeeriot. Ikeeriot closed his eyes halfway and put his arms against his chest and made the briefest of steps to the side. Kyl tumbled out of the ring and fell flat on his face. There was a stunned silence, then the tentative voice of the droid once more, "No penalty for leaving the ring, no point," the droid said. Smiling at the ground, Ikeeriot took the position Kyl had occupied at the beginning of the match. Why doesn't it surprise me he fell? He could feel the growing annoyance from Kyl and heard the quick footsteps, even a few gasps from the students in the audience who didn't think Ikeeriot would block the move in time. As it happened, Ikeeriot ducked and ignited his lightsaber with a snap-hiss and ducked, jabbing upward first with the butt of his lightsaber, then sweeping the blade to nip the side of Kyl's shoulder. It sent his opponent a few more inches into the air, but then the padawan fell to the ground, coughing and sputtering, trying to regain his astonished breath. Lucky, Ikeeriot thought. Had I not heard those steps . . "Two points for Padawan Ikeeriot!" the droid cried hectically. There were murmurs and a few claps from the audience, but mostly stunned silence. It was an audacious move, even for a jedi in training to pull of in front of a room full of Jedi Masters and Knights over looking the duels. He felt more then one hot glare on the back of his neck. He watched Kyl and held out a hand to help his opponent up. Understandably, Kyl slapped it away angrily. Once he stood fully he slashed out with his own blue blade and hit Ikeeriot's forearm twice, diving under the arm after hitting it on top of the arm. Ikeeriot jerked his arm back angrily and took a few steps back, out of the circle. The droid was saying something about the boundaries and the circle again but he was lost to the sounds. There is no emotion; There is peace. He thought over it again and again, calming himself a little more each time he heard it. A few deep breaths and he walked back into the circle. Tie-breaker, he thought. He wanted to feel the heat billow out from under his feet but nothing happened for a few seconds. Kyl and Ikeeriot exchanged heated glares and before he knew it, there was a prickle of Force intuition at the back of his neck. JUMP! He felt, it was a shockwave through the Force, more then he'd ever felt at once ever. Ikeeriot jumped accordingly, and in that second he felt his premonition from the bleachers come true. A few cracks and snaps and the ground beneath him was ice, cold mist floating out over it like ghosts over a youngling horror story. Kyl, along with the rest of the room, was completely surprised by Ikeeriot's jump and even more so when Ikeeriot hit the floor and came run-sliding across the ice, lightsaber in-hand and legs in a blur of speed. I always liked planets like Hoth or Alzoc III . .he thought as he bore his lightsaber down on Kyl's guard. Kyl was surprised, but not inexperienced. He re-gained his balance before Ikeeriot could glance him with the lightsaber but the damage had already been done. In one swift motion, Ikeeriot shut off his lightsaber, ducked to the ground and kicked Kyl's legs out from under him, aiming straight for the spot that he'd seen during Kyl's grimace. Kyl fell, sprawled on the ground, lightsaber clattering uselessly onto the ice. Ikeeriot spun easily on the ice and looked to the audience. He himself felt surprise and exhilaration flowing through him and the Force around him and he suppressed a confident smile. There was clapping, first low and then at a dull roar---only what the teachers would allow the padawans. The female Master walked onto the ice and raised her hands to calm the audience of apprentices. "The tournament is finished. Return to your Studies and wait for further notice after Lunch on today's activities. All padawans without their Masters should stay though." Ikeeriot hardly felt this very fair, Anduil and him being the only Masterless Padawans for the day. Ikeeriot's was gone on a short diplomatic mission to a newly christened Republic planet while Anduil's was gone, preparing the Knight Trials for Anduil Siron personally. Kyl was up and walking out with the rest of the padawans shortly and Anduil and Ikeeriot sat on the bottom bench of the bleachers. "I'm sorry, Master---." Ikeeriot began when the woman Master, Shi'lynn, approached him. "Don't, learner Ikeeriot. You've tested our patience as Masters once too many now." Anduil kept his head facing the ground but he was trying to urge Ikeeriot to stay silent through the Force. "I seem to have felt a little approval at my duel initiative from someone over the rank of padawan who was watching." Ikeeriot said guardedly. Shi'lynn glared icily at the padawan. A Jedi Knight dressed in a brown cloak swept his hood away, revealing his shaggy brown hair and beard that was striped with the occasional red lock. "Master Shi'lynn, the boy was faster then most in eexecuting such a move---." Shi'lynn turned her glare on this Jedi Knight through clenched teeth. She restrained herself though, calming a bit at the Knight's fearful look. "Duly noted." Shi'lynn said, turning back to Ikeeriot. "What are we going to do with you in Master Uban's stead, my young learner?" Shi'lynn asked Ikeeriot. Ikeeriot laughed nervously and looked from side to side, but found no help. I really don't like the sound of this . . "I want you to go into the meditation room and meditate on your actions here for two hours." Shi'Lynn said. "Two hours?" Ikeeriot replied hastily. "Three." Shi'lynn corrected. "Care to add helping the construction crew to your list?" She added wryly. "No, Master Shi'lynn. I will meditate, if that it what you wish." Ikeeriot returned, looking down at the ground. "Perhaps next time you will not take so easily to using such a tainted method in practice dueling." She admonished. "Yes, Master." Ikeeriot replied, embarrassed. "Go then," Shi'lynn said. Ikeeriot stood and turned from Shi'lynn and walked out of the room with his head ducking below his shoulders shamefully. Anduil stood and started to follow, but felt Shi'lynn's gentle hand on his shoulder. "Not you, Padawan Siron. You do not share your friend's punishment this time. It is time for your Trial." Anduil looked at Shi'lynn with a surprised but cautious face. "Come, it is your time, learner." Shi'lynn said thoughtfully, walking in the opposite direction from which Ikeeriot had gone. "Yes, Master Shi'lynn." Anduil said. He followed at her heels.

Outcaste

It is a time of turmoil in the Republic. The war between the Mandalorians and the Jedi rage across the galaxy. Amidst the war, there are small pockets of isolated peace, but when a group of insurgents direct their own revolutionary lead attacks against a local government in a newly christened Republic world named: Xolatis, the Jedi send one of their gifted Masters of the Order, Jedi Master Alec Uban. Master Uban arrives to find that not all on Xolatis is what it seems. The local President has instituted a strict set of rules, including a curfew, and when the agitated insurgents revolt again, the Jedi Master finds himself in a desperately hostile situation without a chance of resolution without involvement of more Jedi. The Jedi of course, spread thin across the galaxy already, are in no position to mediate the situation. There are other mysteries: what is the governor, Lord Darchind, hiding? Who is he dealing with in secret?

What are his real motives? When Uban's apprentice arrives on Xolatis with two other Jedi in tow, the stakes are immediately elevated. From a dim world on the edge of known Republic space comes a danger to both the Republic and Jedi not seen since the likes of the Sith!

Part I

Distant Memory

.1

The nearly vacant local shuttle set down onto the gray landing pad just outside the settlement-capitol of the newly discovered and inducted Republic world, Xolatis. The small shuttle was much like those that were vagrant on the surface of the Republic's own capitol planet, Coruscant---drabbly colored and without much imagination to it's architecture, a simple capsule with vital parts put where they needed to put in order to fly. The only thing that distinguished it from such a interplanetary vehicle was the hyperdrive, which of course let it launch from one planet and jump easily to the next without use of the sublight engines. The usual blather of aliens and Humans were aboard this shuttle, a few sightseeing but fearful Jawas, a rare Kushiban traveler that kept to herself, some Twi'lek, a burly-mercenary looking Trandoshan that looked out the window of the shuttle pensively as the shuttle set down. There was another passenger, far to the back of the space shuttle: he was a lone Human Jedi. This man was an envoy to sue for peace between a small contingent of freedom fighters and the local government's head, a man known to the Jedi Council as Lord Darchind. The only thing this Jedi or even the Council knew about this Lord Darchind was that he'd been a fairly decent man when trying to deal with these 'freedom fighters' that were trying to upset the balance of the local governments meek yet expansive control over Xolatis. Upon joining the Republic, Darchind began badgering anyone who would hear him that he'd dodged several assasination attempts by these 'freedom fighters' as he called them, but he remained unopposed in the position that these freedom fighters already had the freedom they were 'fighting' for. A clunk and a thump notified the shuttle's occupants it had finally landed safely on the ground and gone through the usual procedures. A hiss-thunk and all four doors (two on each side of the long space-bus) slid open. A stead outpouring of men and women of all kinds of species got on and off of the shuttle at once, hurrying toward their destinations. The Jedi Master went with them, more like a specter on the air then a real person. None of them saw him, he was but a 'brown-cloak' to the people of this planet, they didn't yet know a lot about Jedi. I'll prefer it that way, he thought, touching the silver cylinder on his belt. For now. Express instructions had been given to this Jedi Master---he was to be as careful as ever in such a new, foreign place. The Jedi council did not want their reputation to be tarnished this far out on the outer rim---they might some day ask for help from Xolatis and it's people, if the place had anything of value to offer to their war effort with the Mandalorians. This place was as far out in ths galaxy as one could get without being lost in the twinkling abyss. Along the fringes of the Corellian trade route, between Tatooine and Ryloth but past both of the worlds, just on the fringe of what smugglers and experienced astronavigators called Wild Space. The jedi master moved toward the edge of the pad just as the shuttle took off with it's new set of occupants back through it's circuit: from Xolatis to Ryloth then to Tatooine, a long jump from there to Rodia, a longer one to Corellia and one more back to Coruscant. It had only been a few days travel for him, but the jedi's legs were still gnarled with the frustrated ache hyperspace travel. His knees had always worked up when traveling so far too, but for some reason, they weren't hurting as much as they had in the past. Strange, he thought as he passed down the stairs into the settlement out of the side of the grass hill, perhaps it is an effect of the gravity. This jedi was just glad to be back on a mission that didn't involve the war. Jedi Masters like him were truly indispensable in a time like this, with the war against the Mandalorians raging on, they were being called on more and more to be soldiers rather than guardians of justice in the galaxy these days. It bothered him because if the Jedi weren't guardians of those who couldn't fight, then what were they? Eccentric old stewards of a galaxy quickly succumbing to growing pains? At fifty two, he sorely hoped this wasn't the case---I won't be around to take care of this place forever, he thought wryly as he made his way up the main street in a bustling crowd of aliens. Only that one crowd though, he thought, instantly suspicious. He stretched out of his mind with an invisible net of the force and threw it out over the hubbles and apartments to each side of the street. He nodded to himself in confirmation as he started to walk up the main walk to the Administrations building, Darchind institutes a curfew. I suppose that isn't all bantha poodoo. He sometimes wondered if just a little more security on the side of the Republic's own police forces wouldn't lessen the load for the jedi, free them up a bit so they wouldn't be so thinly spread across the small patch of cosmos they occupied. The Administrations Building, with it's towering rock-made towers and spires, was set out in front of him and he really thought it looked more like a castle then a governmental office. The jedi straddled a durocrete walk-ramp toward the main doors but before he could come within ten paces, two Gamorreans flanking a tall, black cloaked alien came out from the doors. Again the jedi became weary of his surroundings just a little more. Sith? he thought almost instantly. No, he thought after a moment's hesitation. Their way had died like the flickering of a candle a good while ago. Just the same, the jedi master was now thankful more then ever for his premonition about him and his padawan learner. He was thankful that he'd convinced his padawan to stay on Coruscant and compete in a sparring tournament at the newly constructed temple. It hadn't taken too much convincing. The Padawan learner, in his fifth year of being such, was excelling at a rapid speed both in his grasp of the living force and his lightsaber skills. Though their relationship as Master and Learner had been a bit strained lately, the one who stood in front of the castle thought it was best for him to be on Coruscant at the new temple, for more then just the reason of participating in the tournament . . Between the Coruscant and Dantooine, even the Jedi's homefront seemed stretched thin. The female human underneath the black hood peered out curiously as the jedi envoy walked slowly up to her and the guards at her side. "Jedi Master Alec Uban, I assume?" The Jedi Master, Alec Uban indeed, halted at his name and smiled, greeting her warmly. "Yes, I was sent to speak with your governor, Lord Darchind?" With a brief skirting motion of his palm hitting the top point of his brown hood, he revealed his light brown skinned face. Uban was bald-headed, by his own decision, and his ice blue eyes glowed intensely in the coming starlight settling on the evening. His moustache and chin hair were connected loosely by two strands at either side of his smiling lips, all of which were black, peppered with grey and even some elusive white hair. "Shall we . .?" Uban offered, watching the woman's reaction thoughtfully. She nodded once, "My name is Valecka, I will show you to his eminence, Lord Darchind now," replying just as warm and welcoming. She turned her back and the Gamorreans did the same, swinging their battle axes and their leathery faces with their drooling tusks smiling eerily too. Alec followed them into the castle of made of blue rock reflecting, the Republic hasn't been here more then a month, but the citizens of Xolatis sure have warmed up to the thought of extra-planetary immigration . . It suddenly struck him as strange as to how these boar faced alien guards were already in Lord Darchind's service. Shouldn't he have noticed something like that in the town, when he'd seen the other aliens? Alec Uban's mind grew weary. I'll just have to be more watchful. Entering the dim innards of the blue rock building he stretched out through the Force and paid closer attention to the gathering pieces of a puzzle that had yet to slide into place.