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Beyond - Legends A Jedi's Quest (post-NJO Jedi action, all OCs) -- COMPLETED 6/25!!!

Discussion in 'Fan Fiction- Before, Saga, and Beyond' started by Rassick, May 12, 2005.

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  1. Rassick

    Rassick Jedi Youngling star 3

    Registered:
    Jan 26, 2004
    Title: A Jedi's Quest
    Timeframe: post NJO
    Characters: Jon Rassick (OC)
    Notes: Follow-up to A Jedi's Weapon, which you can find in its entirety here. http://boards.theforce.net/message.asp?topic=19150684&start=19615216
    I was inspired by certain descriptors from the ROTS novel; if you've read the novel, you'll know what I'm talking about after you read this.







    STAR WARS

    A Jedi?s Quest

    Ryan Cornell-d'Echert



    1


    "Master? Master Jorth?? a young voice cried.

    The diminutive red-skinned Jedi Master stopped and turned. ?Yes, Padawan? What can Jorth do for you??

    ?I?m sorry to bother you, Master Jorth,? the Padawan said. ?It?s Master Halkiin. He did it again.?

    Both understood the implications of the Padawan?s statement and hurried to Master Halkiin?s quarters.

    ?Jorth is glad you found him in time,? Jorth panted, his miniscule Korrothan legs struggling to keep pace with those of the adolescent human Padawan.

    ?I?m glad too,? huffed the jogging female Padawan. ?Halkiin?s been my Master for a couple of months now, but I still don?t know anything about him. He acts weirder all the time.?

    ?Jorth knows what you mean,? the Korrothan wheezed. ?Jorth has also seen strange behavior from Master Halkiin lately.?

    The nondescript door to Halkiin?s quarters shushed open as the two joggers arrived. ?He should be in here,? the Padawan said expectantly. ?He was saying some kind of weird chant and shooting lightning from his hands, just like he did last time.?

    ?Jorth senses him nearby.?

    Bunk overturned, books scattered, clothes strewn about, food splattered ? the room was more than just a mess.

    It was a disaster.

    ?Master Halkiin?? said the Padawan cautiously.

    Silence.

    ?Halkiin,? Jorth said with subtle authority, ?You will reveal yourself to us.?

    Silence.

    ?Now,? Jorth ordered.

    A jumbled semblance of a man stepped out from within an equally jumbled closet. His robes were tattered and faded, his hair greasy and unkempt, his jaw slack and shiny with drool. But his eyes?

    His eyes burned brightly.

    So brightly that his two visitors were taken aback.

    ?What has happened to you?? the Korrothan demanded. ?You will tell Jorth now.?

    ?I have studied the Sith Holocrons for some time now,? the intense-eyed Halkiin said icily in a voice that seemed to exist on many levels.

    ?And embraced their dark teachings?? Jorth goaded.

    ?Your insight serves you well, Korrothan. If only you had the courage to trust your feelings?then you would be invincible, as I am. As all Sith are.?

    ?What are you talking about??

    ?You Jedi see yourselves as guardians of peace and justice. But you?re weak. Your obstinacy serves only to sustain the very anarchy that you claim to oppose.?

    ?If you stand to have yourself counted among the Sith,? Jorth said, ?then take your leave of us. Depart the temple now and Jorth promises he shall not harm you.?

    ?That is why you Jedi fail.?

    Halkiin?s writhing hand produced a hateful beam the color of death. Jorth?s lightsaber reflexively came to a defensive position, but the beam, as if it had a mind of its own, suddenly split in two before touching the lightsaber blade, and struck both Jorth and the Padawan.

    Jorth?s will was strong. He was determined to survive and unravel the mysteries of the new Sith. But, he wondered, would the girl be as strong? As lucky?

    Despite his willpower, Jorth began to waver before Halkiin?s might. He felt his strength being peeled from him and siphoned away, like Tatooine?s setting suns peeling daylight from the desert sky.

    He hit the dirty floor, where the Padawan had already lay for some moments.

    The beam?s color grew stronger before returning to its source.

    ?And now my power has tripled. I take my leave of you.?

    Halkiin casually exited the chamber, with neither of his visitors conscious to witness it.

    * * *

    This is Master Jorth:

    A short, stocky Korrothan full of surprises. His red-skinned brethren were said to be deaf to the Force, yet he was born with an excep
     
  2. Rassick

    Rassick Jedi Youngling star 3

    Registered:
    Jan 26, 2004
    2


    That is a very sharp needle, Wyler Wikks observed as he escorted the new FX-22 medical droid through the long, flat corridors of the Jedi Temple. At least I?m not the one getting pricked with it.

    They had told him there were two casualties: a Master and a Padawan. They hadn?t told him how bad it was; that was the droid?s job.

    What an ugly bucket of bolts, Wyler thought as the cylinder-shaped droid scootered ahead of him. Practically the only people that still have jobs these days are the guys like me that keep the damn droids working.

    * * *

    When they found the bodies, it didn?t take FX-22 long to summon a diagnosis.

    ?The human female is dead,? the droid said emotionlessly. A pause. ?The Korrothan male is alive and requires twenty milligrams of bacta.?

    Another pause as one of the soulless droid?s two dozen surgical arms readied a small, pipe-shaped bacta applicator. ?Applying bacta now.?

    The droid?s arm retracted. ?Medical aid complete.?

    The droid dispassionately scootered off.

    The Korrothan groaned as he came to. ?Jorth has a headache.?

    ?You?ll be fine,? Wyler said. ?They told me to ask if you know who did this, and if you know where Master Halkiin went.?

    ?They??

    ?Master Cinne and Master Tonnis. They were the first to sense trouble, and sent me and the medical droid to check it out.?

    ?It was Halkiin. It seems he?s been studying the Sith Holocrons in secret and fallen to the dark side.?

    ?Sith happens,? Wyler chuckled.

    The Korrothan furrowed his thick red brows. ?Jorth doesn?t understand.?

    Wyler shook his head. ?Never mind.?

    Jorth turned to the dead Padawan lying beside him. ?Young Lira?s gone. So sad?barely thirteen standard years old. She will be missed.?

    ?What happened to her??

    ?Halkiin. He used some new type of Sith attack. Even Jorth was wounded by Halkiin?s power; young Lira must not have been strong enough to survive it.?

    ?Poor kid,? Wyler said as he stroked his stubbled chin. ?What do we do now??

    ?Jorth can think of only one person to seek advice from. Only one person who can help us.?

    ?And who would that be??

    ?We must consult Master Rassick.?

    * * *

    The Jedi Council Chamber had changed little over the thousands of years that had passed since the Galactic Civil War. It was still borne within the Jedi Temple?s highest central tower, and its perimeter was still lined with a hoop of great windows offering an unobstructed view of the Coruscant skyline. And within the brown-carpeted Chamber there still sat a ring of twelve chairs facing inward.

    Very few of these chairs were occupied.

    After the Second Sith War, Jedi numbers were cut from the tens of thousands down to the mere hundreds. Their numbers were stretched so thin that many star systems often contained only a single Jedi, if any at all.

    Masters Jorth, Cinne and Tonnis were planted in their respective Council seats. The Korrothan, human and Twi?lek each considered themselves too old for fieldcraft and thus chose to remain on Coruscant, where decisions still had to be made.

    The human Cinne was a rogue even in his older days, constantly behaving immaturely and defying protocol whenever it suited him. If only the Jedi numbers across the galaxy were greater, he definitely would not be on the Council and almost certainly would not be a Jedi Master, if a Jedi at all.

    The Twi?lek Tonnis, conversely, preferred doing things by the book. She was a negotiator without peer, a mediator whose reputation was well-deserved. She was as nonconfrontational as Jedi came, and in all her years she had only drawn her lightsaber twice with the intention of using it.

    Quite unlike the Jedi Master that the elevator just brought in.

    ?Master Rassick,? the bald-headed Cinne said presently. ?How good to see you again.?

    ?It?s good to see you as well, Master Cinne,? the lean, tall, bearded athlete said politely as he centered himself within the Chamber. ?It?s been a long time. Why have you summoned me??

    The three seated Masters exchanged concer
     
  3. Rassick

    Rassick Jedi Youngling star 3

    Registered:
    Jan 26, 2004
    3


    Here are the data tapes you asked for, my Master,? a kneeling Halkiin said as he handed his lord a pair of datacubes, within which were condensed versions of the information stored inside the Jedi and Sith Holocrons, respectively.

    ?You have done well, Halkiin,? Lohn Kyllicks said as he pocketed the datacubes. ?I?m quite impressed.?

    ?It is my pleasure to serve you, my Master.?

    ?You have proven yourself worthy, Halkiin. It is time. Is it your will to join your destiny forever with the Order of the Sith Lords??

    Through a toothy grin, Halkiin said, ?It is, my Master.?

    ?It is done, then. You are now one with the Order of the Dark Lords of the Sith. From this day forth, you shall be known as Darth?? he paused, searching the Force for the perfect name, ??Kabarr.?

    The man that had once been known as Halkiin understood. ?Thank you, my Master.?

    ?Lord Kabarr,? the oily voice of Lohn Kyllicks said.

    ?Yes, Master??

    ?Rise.?

    And so the newly christened Sith Lord stood and regarded his lord with new eyes. ?What now, my Master??

    ?We have an enemy,? Kyllicks said. ?A Jedi, Jon Rassick. One who seeks to thwart our glorious cause and undo all the hard work that has led us to this point.?

    ?What must I do??

    ?Patience. That is the way of the Sith. We lie in wait and bide our time, growing in power until the time is right to strike. Patience is an imperative virtue. Impatience was the undoing of Lord Rorlak.?

    ?I was under the impression that Lord Rorlak was one of the most powerful Sith Lords, my Master.?

    ?Ha! He was too greedy. And most of all, he had no patience. He was an animal. A very deadly and well-trained animal, to be sure, but an animal nonetheless. He was not a Sith; he was a brute. Why do you think he was cast out of the Order of the Sith Lords??

    ?Because he did not behave as a Sith should, my Master,? Darth Kabarr said in what seemed like a conditioned response. ?But didn?t he end up returning in force and killing much of the Order??

    ?He certainly did. But it was meant to be. The ruling Lords were weak and decadent; nothing so frail is meant to survive. Their death was the will of the Force. And of course, Rorlak?s vengeance had the added benefit of making the galaxy at large believe that I was killed in his attack.? He smiled. ?More power for you and me.?

    Kabarr smiled devilishly. ?Yes.?

    ?We shall play the waiting game. I will continue to teach you the ways of the Sith. You shall gain infinite power, and learn to live forever. The Jedi will come to us ? and when he does, my apprentice, you will crush him.?


    * * *


    The small cargo shuttle was pressed for space. Jorth could snugly fit into whatever nook or cranny he wanted to, but Rassick, more than twice Jorth?s size, didn?t have as many seating options. He ended up lying on a rather uncomfortable slab of durasteel, right next to a hyperactive Astromech droid.

    Rassick sighed, hoping his exhalation would drown out the nonstop chirping of the R2 unit. Astromechs are always around when you don?t need them, Rassick reflected.

    Rassick slept on the cold, hard metal.

    He was jarred by severe turbulence, but unsure whether he was awake or still dreaming, he paid the extremely bumpy ride no mind.

    Then his face was moist with sweat and the stink of ozone besieged his nostrils and seeped under his eyelids, making him teary-eyed. He opened his brown eyes, only to see his surroundings in devastation.

    The R2 unit lay on its side with a large, smoldering hole in its cylindrical frame. He left the flaming cargo hold and his eyes found the cockpit, only to see the copilot?s legs poking through the hull, his blood smeared all over the cockpit?s transparisteel windows.

    The shuttle was badly damaged, the length of its hull perforated. Probably surface-to-air guns, Rassick speculated. He noticed one of the shuttle?s wounds was large enough for a man to pass through, and so he stepped through it and disembarked.

    His boot-clad feet hit snow after a five-meter drop. Im
     
  4. SilSolo

    SilSolo Jedi Knight star 5

    Registered:
    Mar 5, 2004
    Your far future fic's interesting.
     
  5. Rassick

    Rassick Jedi Youngling star 3

    Registered:
    Jan 26, 2004
    Thanks. Here's chapter 4.



    4


    Deak Flatrunner?s hovel was a simple place. It had few accessories, a poor view and very little room for guests to be comfortably housed, but it kept Deak warm, and that was what mattered most.

    Zeevan was a cold world, and Deak knew it prior to moving there. It was often said to be particularly inhospitable for people hailing from warm planets.

    Few planets were warmer than Deak?s homeworld of Tatooine.

    His friends often told him he wouldn?t make it. He would die after spending just a month on the planet, they had told him.

    Deak smiled as he realized he had proven each of them wrong.

    Drawn to Zeevan by the promise of uncompromising secrecy and security and unbeatable job opportunities, Deak came to the planet with his head high and never looked back.

    For a bounty hunter like himself, there was no better home.

    And it must have been a very good home indeed, Deak noticed, for a glance out his kitchen window revealed a pair of snow-covered travelers sauntering toward his front door.

    He pressed his thumb to the control plate, sliding the door open. The travelers stepped inside, escorted by bursts of snow and a windy rush of cold air.

    Deak closed the door. ?What are you snow puppies doing around here? Business or pleasure??

    The visitor wearing brown robes over a white tunic brushed the snow from his beard. ?Business.?

    Deak looked at the second visitor, his face silently repeating the question.

    The second visitor nodded, his stubbled chin dripping with snow.

    ?Very well,? Deak said uncomfortably. ?May I assume you?ve come to my home for food and shelter??

    ?You may,? the bearded visitor said. ?I would pay you, of course.? He reached into one of his belt pouches and pulled out a few New Republic dataries.

    Deak grinned as he scooped up the credits. ?Republic money is hard to come by here. This should be enough?for the night, my home is yours.?

    ?Excellent,? the bearded visitor said as he offered a handshake. ?I?m Jon Rassick.?

    ?Deak Flatrunner,? the visitor?s host said as he accepted the handshake. ?Something to drink??

    ?Hot stimcaf,? the second visitor said.

    Deak turned toward his drink dispenser. ?Sure thing.?

    ?It?s pretty cold out there,? the second visitor said.

    Deak filled an oblong metal cup. ?Most people say that. I don?t mind it, though. I come from a desert planet so the cold is pretty novel and soothing for me, although it certainly took some getting used to.?

    ?A desert planet?? Rassick asked. ?With a name like Flatrunner, clearly you hail from Tatooine.?

    ?I do,? Deak admitted as he handed the second visitor the cup of stimaf and asked for his name.

    ?Wyler Wikks,? he said as his dry, numb lips slurped at the piping hot stimcaf. ?Grife, this is hot.?

    ?You asked for it hot,? Deak said.

    Then came silence, interrupted only by the sound of Wyler?s additional slurping. It made Deak more than a little uncomfortable, prompting him to ask, ?So exactly what kind of business are you two here on??

    ?Jedi business,? Rassick said as he tucked aside the left half of his robe, revealing the thirty-centimeter lightsaber hilt that dangled from his belt and sparkled with a metallic sheen.

    Deak nodded. ?And you too, Mister Wikks??

    Wyler was already feeling perky from the stimcaf. ?Oh, me? No, I?m no Jedi. I?m just the tech guy. I fix droids and starships, like, you know what I mean? I can fly in a pinch, too. I flew the crate that brought us down here, until some damn mercs shot us down.?

    ?I apologize,? Deak said as he went for some stimcaf of his own. ?A lot of newcomers run into trouble with all the mercs we have here. Did you find out who they were? Were they Frontier Guardsmen? They?ve been getting bold lately. You guys were lucky to get away with your lives.?

    ?I knew they were Dark Spacers,? Rassick said, ?even before I killed them.?

    ?You killed them??

    ?Easily,? Rassick chuckled. ?Not to sound egotistic, but I am a Jedi after all. Besides, those Dark Spacers are
     
  6. Rassick

    Rassick Jedi Youngling star 3

    Registered:
    Jan 26, 2004
    5


    Master Jorth was cold. Extremely cold.

    He didn?t like the feeling.

    The ambient temperature was a little chilly for Jorth?s tastes, but the real cold came from a dark presence nearby.

    Jorth didn?t like that either.

    It was a fierce-looking creature, one that was shaped like a man and walked like one, but it appeared to be something less than human ? or maybe something more. Its yellow eyes were bright and feral; they burned hotter than the sands of Tatooine, with a sinister twinkling zeal like that in a krayt dragon?s eye right before pouncing on an unsuspecting bantha. Its teeth were yellow, crooked and razor-sharp, and they dripped with steaming hot drool. The creature?s tongue was slender and wrinkled and blackened, like a piece of meat left to shrivel and dry under the desert sun.

    Then the ugly creature spoke. ?Master Jorth,? it said with barely restrained contempt. ?How agreeable it is to see you again. I am glad you made the mistake of coming to this worthless planet so that we could capture you so easily.?

    Jorth stared at the creature, trying to understand just who or what it was. ?Halkiin? Is that you??

    The creature smiled, or tried to. Its hideous visage would not allow it. As the creature?s lips curled upwards, its teeth cut into its own lips, and oily black blood dribbled down its pockmarked skin. The creature?s long, writhing tongue shot from its vile mouth and lapped up its own dripping blood.

    ?What have you done to yourself, Halkiin?? Jorth said.

    ?That name no longer has any meaning for me. My name is Darth Kabarr. I serve a new master now. So shall it be with you. The New Republic will die, as will your friends.?

    ?Why are you doing this? Tell Jorth now. What do you want??

    ?Power,? Kabarr said as he drew blood from his chapped black lips again. ?Unlimited power. I have already learned the art of ripping the Force from other beings and adding it to my own strength?and every day I grow stronger still.

    ?Lord Kyllicks is not fit to rule. He is weak and unreliable. I can overthrow him with your help. Only together can we defeat this traitor and bring order to the galaxy.?

    ?Kyllicks lives??

    ?He never died.?

    ?Didn?t you only recently become Kyllicks?s apprentice? Why do you already wish to kill him??

    ?It is the Sith way. If he has weakness, then he is not truly the Master. The position should be mine, with you at my side.?

    ?You killed Lira. Jorth cannot forgive you for that.?

    ?It was not my intent. You must understand. Kyllicks was controlling my mind. I was not responsible for my actions.?

    The Korrothan shook his red-skinned head slowly but confidently. ?Jorth will never join you.?

    ?Strong words!? Kabarr hissed. ?I have heard them before. I once said them myself?until I saw through the lies of the Jedi and exposed myself to the genius of the Sith. Now I have become more powerful than any Jedi?and I will live forever.?

    ?The Sith are the liars. They are selfish, conceited cowards, weak in both the physical and mental arenas of the Force, and so they have no choice but to hide and to deceive.?

    ?I remember speaking those words too?while I was blinded by the same inflexible Jedi dogma that you are now. Even you have your doubts about the stability of the Jedi way?I can feel the conflict within you even now.?

    Jorth said nothing.

    ?Lira,? Kabarr growled. ?Your thoughts dwell on her. You miss the girl, don?t you? You loved her like a daughter. Through the power of the dark side ? through me, and only through me ? you can leave the threads of your old life behind. You can live the life you always meant to, and raise Lira like the daughter that you never had but always wanted.?

    ?Even if Jorth believed you, how would it be possible? Young Lira is dead.?

    ?Yes, her body is dead and my attack on her was so potent that it has left a wound within the Force itself. But as easily as the wound was made can it be unmade. The dark side of the Force is very strong indeed.?

    ?Is it??

    ?But of course. Most
     
  7. Rassick

    Rassick Jedi Youngling star 3

    Registered:
    Jan 26, 2004
    6

    Wyler knew it wouldn?t be long before somebody came for him and the Rodian. He had no desire to be killed and torn apart for food, and he assumed the Rodian felt the same way.

    So when the cell?s sole light flashed red and the cell door inevitably opened and the piglike Gamorrean brutes bumbled inside, Wyler was quick to rush them and hope to somehow overpower them, even though each of the brutes outweighed Wyler by a good hundred kilograms.

    The languid brutes shrugged off Wyler?s blows and knocked him into the back of the cell. Before he could get up, the brutes seized the Rodian, left the cell, and sealed the door behind them.

    Wyler kicked the wall in frustration, then groaned as he stubbed his toe.

    * * *

    The Rodian couldn?t believe his time had come. It had all happened so fast.

    He was strapped to the bloodstained ?operating table,? its accompanying instruments of pain in plain sight. The attendant, a chubby blue-skinned Chiss, giggled and said something to the effect of ?This one looks tasty,? but the Rodian was far too stressed to truly perceive the Chiss?s comment.

    Without even asking the Rodian any questions, the Chiss gave a few commands to a loathsome-looking medical droid bristling with blades and needles.

    The droid moved with the same rigid, heartless mechanical precision as the many droids that the Rodian had stolen in his life. The Rodian contemplated this as the first blade sank into his abdomen and made a sizeable incision. The droid produced a scooplike apparatus, plunged it into the Rodian?s wound, forcibly removed his intestines and splashed them into a nearby bowl apparently designed for holding just such a body part.

    The Rodian was still alive, though in shock and bleeding profusely. The droid went right to sawing off his genitals as if this were such a routine activity.

    It looks like I?m not going to get a quick death after all, the Rodian wanted to think. But he couldn?t; his thoughts were drowned out by his own screams.


    * * *

    Zakaree Twoke?s store was a simple place, made of mostly wood, and was a shop that was clearly neglected by its owner. Miscellaneous parts and bits of dusty droids, speeders, holoprojectors, doors, and even blasters lined the crooked and equally dusty shelves.

    A fresh-faced kid of no more than eighteen or nineteen Standard years stepped in from a back room, clad in a grease-stained smock. ?Something I can help you guys find??

    ?We have come for the bounty on this human,? the big Aqualish said, pointing to Deak (who was finding it remarkably painful to even stand) and then Rassick. ?We assumed Mister Twoke would appreciate this Jedi as a bonus.?

    The kid motioned for everyone to follow him into the back room. Inside four men sat at a small table, not all of them human, but all thoroughly enthralled in a high-stakes game of sabacc. One of the men at the table ? a human male of average height, powerful build, and elegant clothes far beyond the humble pay of an antiquities dealer ? shoved his cards aside, then turned toward his visitors and stood up. ?My name is Zakaree Twoke,? he said over a creaking floorboard. ?I take it you came here looking for something other than antique machine parts. If you were looking for trouble, you seem to have found it. Why don?t I just have you all killed and staple your bodies to the wall as a rather grim sign for anyone else who comes in here trying to have me arrested??

    ?We have?come for the bounty?on Flatrunner, and brought the Jedi?as a bonus,? the big Aqualish said nervously.

    ?Very well,? Twoke said. ?I will gladly pay the reward of eighty thousand.?

    ?Eighty thousand?? the big Aqualish scoffed. ?The advertisements said two million.?

    ?We aren?t exactly rolling in credits here,? Twoke said. ?Eighty thousand is my offer. Take it or leave it.?

    Rassick took advantage of the tension and acted. With a subtle touch of the Force, he removed his and Deak?s binders. He then reached out with his feelings and noticed his lightsaber in the big Aqualish?s pants pocke
     
  8. Rassick

    Rassick Jedi Youngling star 3

    Registered:
    Jan 26, 2004
    7


    Wyler, as the Jedi Temple?s sole mechanic and technician that wasn?t Force sensitive, often had plenty of free time on his hands. Sabacc, Podracing, swoop racing, and all other forms of sport and the associated gambling bored him. Reading bored him. Cooking bored him. Women bored him. But shooting?

    Shooting, he relished.

    His job at the Jedi Temple was dull but paid well, and he had provided himself with extensive marksmanship training: pistol, carbine, rifle, repeater and projectile were all within his expertise. Over time he trained himself to become a good shot. A very good shot.

    And in the Zeevan processing center, it certainly showed.

    His pinpoint shooting dispatched Gamorrean brute guards and murderous inmates alike. The Gamorreans were certainly easier to kill, of course, as their wide piglike frames provided ridiculously easily targets that silently screamed ?shoot me in the center of my generous mass.?

    Wyler gladly heeded their silent plea.

    He stormed through the facility, shooting down more insane inmates and Gamorrean pigs and a sadistic-looking blue-skinned chubby Chiss, and picking up the blasters of his kills as he saw fit.

    The technician shot his way to the administrator?s office on the top level. Unscathed.

    The administrator went through the usual routine, asking what his attacker wanted and begging for mercy and offering exorbitant sums of money.

    Wyler was not impressed.

    The technician asked the administrator if he knew anything about any Jedi, and dropped names like Halkiin, Jorth, and Rassick, to which the administrator replied that a Force-using bigwig named Kyllicks lived in a palace on the far side of the planet, and produced a datapad with the palace?s coordinates along with the keys to an airspeeder on the roof of the processing facility.

    Wyler thanked the administrator and decided that the repugnant man had no further purpose.

    So he shot him in the head.


    * * *


    ?Here we are,? Zakaree Twoke said as the speeder stopped a few centimeters above a pack of ice and its engine purred into silence.

    ?By the sands of Tatooine,? Jon Rassick said as he took sight of the mighty palace.

    It could be described as merely a large, black construction, but it was larger than large and blacker than black. It was humongous, dwarfing the white snow-capped mountains that flanked it, seeming to be a part of the very curvature of the planet itself. It was so tremendous that Jon had to arch his neck all the way back and still he could not see the entire palace: its zenith stretched higher than the Jedi?s eye could see and was hidden somewhere in the clouds above. And the palace was black, blacker than outer space itself; its darkness made a contrast so strong with the white surrounding it that it was downright painful to look at.

    It was an ostentatious place, one perfect for a person as excessive and flamboyant and vain as Lohn Kyllicks to barricade himself in.

    ?Let?s go,? Jon said to Twoke, who required considerable coercion to leave the warm interior of the speeder. ?We need radio silence.?

    ?Why are we parking so damn far from the palace?? Twoke asked as he clumsily dragged his feet in the snow.

    ?Because I?m sure their sensors would pick up a speeder heading their way and send security after us. Two men on foot, on the other hand, will probably slip under their nets.?

    ?Will they??

    The Jedi shot him an annoyed look. ?Possibly.?

    The two men then trudged through the snow with no further verbal exchanges?

    Until Jon heard Twoke mumbling something, then turned and saw the con man rushing to stow a comlink into his jacket.

    ?What the hell were you doing?? Jon said. ?Giving our position away? I?m sure they?ll pick up any nearby comlink frequencies.?

    ?Oh yes, Master Jedi,? Twoke said contemptuously. ?I know they will. Especially considering the fact that I know the private frequency of Kyllicks?s security chief, and just told him that we?re coming. He said that help?is on the way.?

    Rassick?s droid ha
     
  9. PadawanRoo

    PadawanRoo Jedi Master star 1

    Registered:
    Aug 7, 2003
    yay for far future fics!

    It's always a pleasure to find another author tackling this era-- I appreciate the way you're linking in your present day with the 'current' present day of the GFFA, if that makes sense. Filling in the gaps in history without sitting us all down for a lecture.

    Keep up the good work-- I'll try to follow on as much as I can.
     
  10. Rassick

    Rassick Jedi Youngling star 3

    Registered:
    Jan 26, 2004
    Thank you very much for your reply, not many people seem to have the urge to post here. :p Ah well. Here's chapter 8:


    8

    The swoop bikes came even quicker than Rassick expected. Their fire was rapid and unyielding, but inaccurate. Rassick?s lightsaber easily batted those shots that did head for him back to their swoops of origin, and destroyed them.

    But there were still many more swoops.

    One made the mistake of flying low to the ground and Rassick?s lightsaber chopped off its frontal outriggers, sending it spinning out of control into a snow-covered boulder where it vanished in a fiery explosion. Another swoop flew low, but didn?t get far before Rassick lightsabered it.

    A brace of swoops flew in tandem, making sure to stay a bit higher and avoid the mistakes of their fallen comrades. The pilots reached for the triggers to their bikes? cannons, hoping to annihilate this resilient Jedi demon.

    The demon?s heart sang for its lightsaber to buzz through the air in a perfect arc, impaling the nearer pilot and sailing back into the demon?s deadly hand.

    The demon leapt onto the farther swoop as if there were no distance between them at all, and sat behind the pilot. The pilot reached for the rifle slung around his back, but the demon grabbed him by the side of the head, smiled, said good morning, and gave him a strong shove. The pilot fell, and before he could scream he skewered himself on the upward-pointing branch of a dead tree.

    Rassick grasped the handlebars and popped the clutch. His feet rammed down on the pedals, punching the swoop forward for all it was worth. Another swoop dashed in front of him, its afterburners blazing. The engine was an easy target, ripe for the picking. Rassick?s thumb moved toward the firing stud and the blaster cannons spat fire. The targeted swoop burst into flame before splintering into a hundred pieces, launching its flaming pilot into the air.

    Another swoop raced to intercept the Jedi. Rassick swerved in the pilot?s direction, ramming him. His speeder was of poorer quality than Rassick?s, and the impact shredded it. The pilot?s thrusters failed and his swoop simply fell, although both swoops were now hundreds of meters in the air so the pilot?s fall was most certainly fatal.

    Rassick turned to the next swoop. Its pilot bobbed and weaved, evading Rassick?s fire. Rassick gunned the engine, rocketing toward him. The outriggers of the Jedi?s swoop lifted the pilot from his seat and skewered him. Unbalanced, Rassick?s vehicle instantly spun out of control so he jumped off his vehicle and onto his newfound passenger?s swoop. Conveniently, it was the same quality and model as the one he was just on. Rassick flew off as the other swoop, with the pilot still impaled on it, collided with the ground and exploded.

    A fierce volley of laserfire ripped into Rassick?s swoop, raking its sides open and splitting it down the middle. He jumped off, avoiding the subsequent explosion, and then realized that the ground was hundreds of meters below him.

    I have a bad feeling about this, he thought.

    He fell.

    A black blur whooshed under him and he found himself in a seat inside an open-cockpit airspeeder. He turned to see the speeder?s only other occupant, its pilot ?
    Wyler Wikks.

    ?Wyler!? an ecstatic Rassick said. ?How?d you get out of the processing facility??

    ?Shot my way out,? Wyler said while still focusing on piloting the vehicle. ?How?d you know I was there??

    ?The Aqualish told me. And how?d you know I was here??

    ?I kept my ear to the ground,? Wyler smirked.

    Laserfire buffeted the speeder?s chassis. Rassick looked at the source: it was the only swoop still flying, the same one that had shot him down moments ago?

    And flying it was Zakaree Twoke.

    ?Do something!? Rassick cried.

    ?I?d shoot him down, but this crate doesn?t have any weapons,? Wyler said.

    ?Evasive maneuvers, then. I don?t care what he does. We need to get into that palace.?

    Twoke?s swoop fired a few more shots before its cannons sparked
     
  11. Rassick

    Rassick Jedi Youngling star 3

    Registered:
    Jan 26, 2004
    9


    Darth Kabarr, once Master Halkiin, was most pleased at the fool Twoke?s idiocy. The bungling con man had led the Jedi right into Kabarr?s hands ? and into certain death.
    The Jedi and his friend would be slain easily enough. Then Kabarr would need to deal with that moron Twoke.

    Then only Darth Sinra and the Supreme Chancellor would remain to be cleansed.

    Kabarr almost felt sorry for having lied to Sinra in order to gain his allegiance and get the Korrothan to do his bidding. But it was a necessary evil. Even Kabarr, like nearly every Sith before him, had been lured to the dark side by lies and threats rather than simply being evil. Kyllicks?s lies and the lies of those malicious Sith Holocrons had started Kabarr down the dark path, and for that they could never be forgiven.

    But Kabarr was the one who chose to continue down the path. And Sinra would pay and Twoke would pay and Rassick in particular would pay, in order to ease Kabarr?s endless suffering.

    Yes. They would all pay.


    * * * * *


    Rassick and Wyler stepped over the bodies of the guards they felled and slid into the immense throne room, the central chamber of the palace, which was empty save for the statue and tall chair that dominated its center.

    The chair?s back was facing them.

    Rassick dimly sensed a dark figure sitting in it, but nothing else. ?Kyllicks?? the Jedi asked.

    By degrees the chair turned around, each of its slow movements echoing in the Force as a malicious scheme to destroy all that was good in the universe.

    A clammy hand emerged from the darkness of the chair, and Wyler flew across the expansive chamber all the way to the wall and blacked out.

    Rassick froze as the dark figure in the chair became visible. It was not Kyllicks, nor did it appear to be Halkiin. It was a repulsive creature, far uglier than any Rassick had ever seen. Rassick would?ve mistaken it for a human-sized dying animal, but it must have been a humanoid as it wore a simple black robe. Its skin was corpse-gray, shriveled, mottled and wrinkled; its nails were talons that could tear durasteel; its teeth were fangs that could make a krayt dragon blush; its eyes burned with a fiery hate, so intense a hate that they seemed to witness entire galaxies rather than mere men.

    This creature, Jon quickly decided, was nothing if not a physical manifestation of evil. Whenever Jon heard the term ?Sith Lord,? his mind often conjured up an image of a horrendous creature; however, he was not nearly creative (or disturbed) enough to imagine a creature as gruesome as the one that sat before him now.

    Then?

    The creature spoke.

    ?Jon Rassick,? its repugnant voice said. ?How agreeable it is to see you here.?

    Rassick kept one hand on his lightsaber while the other stroked his beard quizzically. ?What are you??

    ?I am Darth Kabarr. You remember me as Halkiin; that name no longer has any meaning for me. Soon, my boy, you shall have a Sith name as well.?

    Rassick sneered. ?I don?t think so.?

    ?Lodon Warduss!? the creature named Kabarr suddenly snapped. ?Your thoughts betray you, Jedi. This dead boy was dear to you. Slain by Rorlak. Your old master, Canthix, slain by Rorlak. The woman, Rachiel Antilles, who denied you; her heart belonged to another man until he murdered her. All of these people, Jedi, were dear to you. And all of them are long gone.?

    ?Yes, they are,? Rassick said. ?And I mourned their passing. But I have let go. I have no fear of loss; I celebrate their union with the Force.?

    ?Wrong!? Kabarr snapped again. ?Each of them had a special place in your heart. And now each of them has left a void. What if I told you I could bring them back? Through the dark side one can rejuvenate life. Become my apprentice, help me dispatch the wayward Jorth who has overtaken the Jedi Temple, and I swear all you have lost will return to you.?

    ?I?m not interested. If the dark side is truly your ally, then you are lost. I have no time for your Sith lies. I?m here to bring you and Kyllicks to justice.?

     
  12. Rassick

    Rassick Jedi Youngling star 3

    Registered:
    Jan 26, 2004
    Final installment. :)




    20


    Coruscant.

    Darth Sinra had been sitting by Lira?s body for some time. He had learned many dark powers already, but the ability to rejuvenate life was certainly not among them.

    He therefore was most pleased when Darth Kabarr finally arrived, hopefully to make good on his promise of bringing Lira back to life.

    ?Master,? Darth Sinra said. ?Sinra has cleansed the Jedi Temple as you asked. Sinra have completed every task you have given, and done so speed and excellence. Will you now show Sinra how to resurrect dear Lira??

    Darth Kabarr was short of breath. ?Not yet, my apprentice. We have one final challenge to conquer. I have just returned from Zeevan where I confronted the Jedi, Jon Rassick, and barely escaped with my life. I have no doubt that he followed me here. I can already sense his disgusting taste in the Force. He shall be upon us very soon indeed.?

    Sinra sighed. ?Can we not resurrect her while we wait for Rassick??

    ?Patience, Lord Sinra. It is a very time-consuming process. Would you have us bring back the girl, only to let the Jedi find us with our guard down and our strength already drained??

    ?Sinra supposes not, my master. Very well. Sinra will wait.?

    ?Good. Remember: Rassick is the last survivor of the Jedi Council, and the galaxy?s most powerful living Jedi. Destroying him is important. Once he is dead, the Sith shall rule the galaxy for fifty thousand years.?

    ?What happens after fifty thousand years??

    ?Someone shall rise to power and have the gall to oppose me. I will wipe my opponent out, of course, but I predict it shall be most violent. Perhaps my previous statement needs revision: the Sith shall rule the galaxy peacefully for fifty thousand years.?

    ?Yes, Master.?



    * * * * *



    After exiting the stolen Zeevan starship, Jon Rassick ran through the entirety of the Jedi Temple, startled by the number of dead Jedi he passed as he searched hurriedly for Jorth and Darth Kabarr.

    Kabarr, he understood, would have to be killed. It would be the only way to stop Kabarr?s evil from continuing to contaminate the galaxy and corrupt unfortunate Jedi ? if there were even any other Jedi left alive.

    Rassick walked a dangerous line. His thoughts dwelled on slaying Kabarr ? thoughts that treaded dangerously close to the dark side. Rassick had to remind himself that he would not be striking Kabarr down in anger, but striking him down for the sake of preventing further bloodshed.

    The Jedi Master found himself in the infirmary. Stooped over the body of a dead Padawan were two figures: the diminutive red-skinned Jorth and the abomination that was once Halkiin. Their lightsabers sparkled as they turned to face the Jedi.

    ?Rassick,? Darth Kabarr snarled. ?Lord Sinra belongs to me now, in case you didn?t know. You are all that stands in our way. I regret to inform you that our relationship has reached its end. Jon Rassick, prepare to die.?

    After that, blows were exchanged rather than words. Sinra?s green blade lunged for Rassick?s waist as Kabarr?s red blade went for Rassick?s neck. Rassick?s blue blade flashed to meet the blades of both his attackers, and swept them both aside with a snap-hiss.

    Both Sith regained their stances and Kabarr laughed uproariously as they attacked again. Two against one. No holds barred. An epic battle.

    This, Rassick realized, would be his greatest challenge.

    His fighting on Tavan, his skirmishes with the Dark Spacers, his duel with Rorlak, his eradication of Twoke?s associates, his annihilation of an entire fleet of swoop bikes?
    All of those fights combined were a mere warmup compared to this.

    The two Sith struck from every conceivable angle, faster than Rassick had ever seen anyone wield a lightsaber; their rhythm changed constantly in the hopes of getting Rassick to lower his guard but they remained ever on the offensive, slashing and chopping and stabbing, trying their hardest to take Rassick?s life.

    Rassick?s blade wove its
     
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