The Sith Order: Aspects of the Force

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  1. Lord Sith Jedi Padawan

    Member Since:
    Mar 13, 1999
    The Sith Order: Aspects of the Force

    Ten Years after Dark Uprising

    ----------

    A dark fog hung over the Jedi Temple, giving the majestic structure a frail, weak appearance.

    Inside the great chamber, the Jedi Council was in session. Many of the faces were still familiar, yet there were a few changes.

    The most notable of these was the introduction of Remak Olir, a Jedi Master native to Alderaan. He was young and brash, bringing a fresh attitude to an ancient Council. He was the replacement for Freya Diluk, the Jedi Master who had fallen victim before Seth Shadel's bitter hatred.

    After ten full years, it seemed to Jaden Rylok that only yesterday, she had become one with the Force. It was a painful memory, one that was hard to cast aside peacefully.

    The existance of the ever more powerful Sith Order made such a thing hard to forget, especially when one added the numerous other atrocities they had committed.

    "So it is war" the Jedi Master Dur Slew stated calmly.

    The man in the center of the chamber nodded slowly. "Y-yes Master Jedi" he managed.

    "Thank you Supreme Chancellor" Jaden said. "We will discuss this in private. You are dismissed."

    The thin man suddenly looked overjoyed. He bowed low, and rushed out of the chamber, flanked by two Senate Guards robed in blue.

    When they were gone, Master Slew grunted in disapproval. "That man is not fit to run the Republic, especially now."

    "He is a pawn" Jedi Master Karia Wilom explained bluntly. "Others hold the real power in the Republic, like Grenda the Hutt. He uses that weak man to carry out his every whim. Grenda knows no one will vote a Hutt into power, but he has effectively done the next best thing."

    "Then we must deal with this corrupt government before things get out of hand" said Jaden. "This is no time to show weakness. Now that the Calmonians have declared war on the Republic, the government must put aside petty squabbles and focus on the task at hand. Meanwhile, we must hold the Sith in check. They cannot be allowed out of the Em'raan system."

    "The Republic has kept up the blockade of the system" Master Gareil began, "but with the Calmonians at war now, it would not be hard for them to punch through the Republic defenses."

    Jaden nodded, massaging his brain tails gently. "Very well. Ten years ago, we tried to destroy the Sith ourselves. That resulted in failure. Since then, they have more then doubled in number. Reports suggest they have almost fifty fully trained warriors now, as you all know. However, I believe the war against the Calmonians must be the Republic's first priority, and therefore our first priority as well. Before we deal with the Sith, we must take away their protection. The Calmonians must be stopped, and their leader is the key. With him gone, the Empire will crumble apart. Then we will discuss how best to deal with the Sith and-"

    A young Jedi Knight suddenly burst into the Council chamber, breathing deeply.

    Jaden stood. "What is the meaning of this Knight?"

    "My most deep apologies Master, but I have urgent news" he said through all the huffing and puffing.

    Jaden nodded. "Out with it then."

    "The Calmonians Master. As we speak, they are attacking the Republic blockade of the Em'raan system. Reinforcements are being sent, but they will not arrive in time."

    "It is as I feared" Master Gareil said gravely. "The Sith are free."
  2. JediGaladriel Manager Emeritus

    Member Since:
    Sep 3, 1999
    star 5
    Yay! We're starting!
    ---------------
    Elsewhere in the Temple...

    It always begins with the dust.

    She can see it blowing up from the plain, then the ground falls out from under her, and she is pulled down into it. She can't see, or hear, or feel anything other than the cutting wind and smothering heat. After an eternity in the grey cloud, she plunges into something hot that reeks of corruption.

    The dust dissipates, and the sky above her is red with fire and sunset and blood.

    Blood. Everywhere! A river of it, and she is carried along in the foul current. She screams, but it is lost in the general wailing.

    She hears them around her. "The girl -- she is -- where is -- ?" Then she begins to see them, reaching up from under the ripples in the surface, hands covered in gore.

    "Help us -- you must -- you are -- the girl -- where is -- ?"

    A burning pain, and she sees her flesh start to stream out around her. She observes this with little reaction; it always happens, and seems to mean little to her state of health. Her ring, resting on one long fingerbone, adjusts to the smaller size.

    The course whisper comes next, as it always does. "Zemai! Come!"

    She does not want to turn, but she does. She knows the face only vaguely from her own memory, but it is burned into her mind from the memories of her master. His sister. His twin. She has never told Coris the dream at all, and if she ever does, she will leave this part out. "Let me alone, Akira!"

    The wild eyes, the tightening grip. "You will... help... me... " Then she can see that the eyes are frightened as well as wild, and she reaches out one skeletal arm. Akira reaches into the gap in the forearm, and twines herself into it. Zemai can feel the heavy, painful weight of her dragging, but she can't let go.

    Others come after, twining themselves around her bones, re-building her body out of their loose flesh. It hurts to carry them, but she can't let them go. She remembers dragging bodies through the woods on Emraan. She cannot leave them to their own rot, no matter how it hurts her to carry them.

    The riverbed begins to rise under her feet, and she is tossed up onto the dusty plain. Her feet leave bloody footprints behind her. The innocents rise up, one after another. They touch her, and become spoiled, like rotten food, and fade into her body with all the others.

    How many? She always loses count, and the dust comes up again, and she cannot see. But finally, it begins to thin, as she comes near the end of the journey. A woman with grey eyes smiles sadly at her (and it is her own smile) then disappears into the storm. She looks up, and high on a plateau that has appeared, she can see a burning pyre. A figure lies atop it. Her ring begins to grow warm; the purple stone seems to glow. She reaches up, and it floats off of her finger. A mirror stone rises up from the pyre, and she sees them floating impossibly above the flames, splitting the light into two bright stars.

    The figure on the pyre sits up in a halo of flames, and steps down as if he was rolling out of bed. One stone seems to be suspended on either side of his head. She can't see his face, but she feels that it is Karik Otonna. But not quite Karik. He reaches down to her, and she knows he means to draw her into the pyre, but it's all right, it's not an act of hate or anger. It is a release.

    She holds her hand out to him, feels his close around it --


    "Zemai!"

    The voice broke into the dream, and she brought herself up from it with no difficulty. She had never needed training to learn how to fully be fully awake in seconds.

    Coris was standing over her, looking concerned. He knew she dreamed badly, but said he couldn't see what she saw. She was not inclined to tell him, though she couldn't say why.

    "What is it, Coris? Is something happening?"
  3. RogueLead11 Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Aug 19, 1999
    star 2
    <<<Let's get this started!>>>

    She was the only one he had ever loved.

    But somehow, she no longer reciprocated his sentiments.

    He stands on a broad, desolate plain. A lonely wind wails by, scattering dust in its wake. He looks to the horizon, the plain line where blue sky meets earth. He knows she's there. He knows she is to appear. Still, he feels nervous, and waits with dread. What if this time is different? What if she does not come?

    But it is always the same.

    She seems to materialize before him out of the empty air. Joy bubbles out of a spring deep within him at the sight of her. She is alive! He had always known she was. He tries to run toward her, but she sees him first. Then she is in his arms, and he clasps her to him, never wanting to let go again. Home. After all these years, she is finally home.

    "You don't know how much I've missed you, Coris," she whispers.

    He missed her too. He wants to tell her. He wants to say so many things, but like always, he cannot. His voice has disappeared, rendering him mute and dumb. A doll - a puppet.

    She pulls away from him. "Why did you leave me?"

    He doesn't understand. Leave her? He never wanted to leave her. He tries to enfold her back into his arms, but she brushes him away.

    "Why didn't you come? I needed you."

    He hadn't known. He tries to move after her, but his feet are rooted to the ground. He's stuck in place. She glares at him as she backs away, eyes flashing. "You left me alone!"

    He could not have brought himself to hurt her. Why did she think that?

    "Why did you abandon me? I thought you loved me."

    She must be joking, but he knows she is not. Something deep within his mind tells him this is wrong - she would never do this. And yet it is happening. The ground shakes. A black canyon suddenly cracks the plain in two between them. He looks into the gorge's bottomless depths. Somehow, they look appealing. She continues to withdraw, farther and farther away into the distance.

    And he manages to call her name. "Jai'ana!"

    But she ignores him.

    Above them, the cloudless sky melts away, like runny paint off a poorly constructed picture, leaving a glaring panorama of glistening red behind. The air suddenly has a new smell to it, a sickening stench he knows all too well: death. And blood.

    His hands. He looks down. They are covered with it.

    She glances back at him across the chasm. "Choose." Her voice cuts into him like a knife. He wants to answer her. But Jai'ana is no longer there. Another woman stands in her place. He knows her instantly: Akira. His sister. She has changed; she seems thinner, frailer than before.

    And her body is consumed by fire.

    There is only a black smear where her faced used to be. As he watches, her body seems to disintegrate before his eyes. Flesh falls away from bone under the flickering flames. Her skeleton flakes away into dust, which the wind carries away into the distance. A single word hovers in the air for a brief heartbeat before it too is whipped away.

    "Choose."

    Then someone else is standing there in Akira's place. Someone he knows very well. Zemai Laryhi gazes back at him from the opposite cliff-face. The ground seems to lurch beneath them. He sees the canyon widen, reaching out to engulf him. He catches a brief glimpse of his Padawan's face before the ground slips from beneath his feet and he plunges into the dark void. Her voice echoes after him...

    "You must choose."

    Coris awoke with a jerk and found himself sitting bolt upright in bed. He put a hand to his brow, found it coated with sweat. That dream again.

    He flopped back down onto his pillows. For a moment he could only lie there quietly in the dark, staring up at the ceiling. He could almost hear Jai'ana-Din Ronin's voice in his ears, as if she were really standing there next to him. A single night didn't go by without him thinking about her. And the dreams, no matter how horrible, could never change that.

    He rolled out of bed, donned a brown robe lying on the nearby dresser and tied the sash loosely around his waist. While he was up, he might as well
  4. JediGaladriel Manager Emeritus

    Member Since:
    Sep 3, 1999
    star 5
    Zemai smiled and stretched, not at all self-conscious. Coris had been waking her up in the middle of the night for ten years, and had seen any number of odd stretches over the years. She grabbed her long robe from a chair, and followed him out into the night. Her apprenticeship would come to an end soon. She tried not to think of that often. Coris would take a new apprentice, and she... what would she do?

    "How late is it?" she asked as they went out onto an open-air walkway. It was chilly, and Coris put a companionable arm across her shoulders. She could see lights in the Council tower ahead of them, glimmering in the fog.

    "Late."

    "They're still in session. They were in session when I went to sleep."

    Coris smiled, and squeezed her shoulders. "There's political business. I wasn't consulted."

    She laughed. "Me, either." She reached out into the energy around her, focusing out toward the tower and the strong powers that danced around it. She could get nothing specific, but the feelings were strong, troubled.

    She grasped at her heart, and stopped, suddenly short of breath.

    "Zemai, what is it?"

    It took her a moment to identify it. "A runner," she finally said. "A runner to the Council. With news."

    Coris' face paled. He was picking something up, something that she wasn't. All she felt was weary from the run she hadn't taken.

    Then an image. Just a brief glimpse. But enough. Fire and smoke and death.

    "Emraan," she whispered.
  5. The Rover Jedi Knight

    Member Since:
    Dec 28, 1999
    star 1
    Em'raan Four is a world where few dare to visit for it is the place haunted with the ghosts of warriors of the past. It is believed to be the reason why the planet even though the vegetation is high and the capacity to hold life is possible, no one race has any desired to dwell there. Indeed there is no normal standard sunrise or evening, both the day and night has the look of dread and evil, with one being worse than the other. It is that very image of eternal darkness that serves the order of the Sith well during their long tenure here. The sanctions place upon the planet has done little to stop the forces of the now powerful Seth Shadel, from expanding his power base both in and out of the surrounding systems.

    It has been ten years since that violent struggle to establish their new home, in that time, Both Seth Shadel and his chief ally, the enigmatic Drey Jalex have build the order of the Sith into a force that instills the deepest fear and respect to all those that cross their paths. They have fought the Jedi Knights on many different occasions on other worlds where they both had interest in. Some battle they lost but many others they have won, the extra reward for their defiance to the Jedi was the defection of some of the Knights into their cult. The legend of Seth Shadel grows with each new convert into the order as he teaches his disciples to embrace the concept that power denied was power wasted. All those who sees the manifestation of Seth's power sees exactly what it is that he is talking about, which makes his word law amongst his followers.

    The Sith temple stands tall and intimidating to any being who may dare venture into the planet, casting his or her eyes upon this colossal structure of darkness and evil. The origins of the temple's construction remains as mysterious as the being who invited the newly formed Sith to make it their new home. This invitation worked out better than all parties involved had hoped, as the very image of this dark structure symbolizes the Sith at the height of their powers. The breaking of the blockade by the Calmonian armada lead by their king and member of Sith High Council, Sith Master Rimar, has given the Sith complete freedom to invade and spread their gospel of darkness. Before , they were only able to travel incognito past the blockade to spread their message and gain new converts..now, with the blockade gone, there will be nothing to stop them now.

    This is the reason for the Sith High council to come together for an emergency meeting to discuss their new found freedom as the members of the Council gather into the darkened chambers. The membership of the Sith order consist of 12 members of the council with each member having within their group no more than 12 disciples to train in the ways of the dark side of the Force. This was the rule instituted by their chosen leader, Seth Shadel to ensure a balance

    The chamber itself somewhat resembles the Jedi council back on Coruscant, the difference is in the aura of darkness surrounding the atmosphere with the room. The room walls is surrounded by dimly lit alien hieroglyphics which add on to the majestic image of the dark side of the Force. The chairs that the Sith Masters sit on is made of very soft Vellore fabric that blends very well within the dimly lit light that surrounds the middle of the chamber. The largest chair is reserved for the chairman, Sith Master Seth Shadel which looms large in contrast to all the other chairs surrounding the chamber. The stairway that leads to the Council chambers is directly in back of Seth's seat waiting for the Lord himself to appear in which he soon does. Seth has not changed but so much in the ten years since his ascension to power through the murder of Jedi Master Freya Diluk. He bears a scar under his right eye due to a violent conflict in the Yulisee'vel system to secure a planet vital to the development of his ally Rimar growing army.
    Through that particular conflict in which Seth Shadel singlehandedly slaughtered five hundred and seventy four warriors,
  6. JediGaladriel Manager Emeritus

    Member Since:
    Sep 3, 1999
    star 5
    Zemai and Coris stood with the silent wind between them, the dreaded word hovering in the fog.

    Emraan.

    Coris had tried over the years to get her to speak of Emraan, of the fire and the death that had surrounded her there (her own fault; she'd been a foolish child and should have stayed where she was told), but she couldn't bring it out. He knew of the long trek, carrying the body of a Jedi master. He knew that Bhasvan had been cut in two before her. He even knew that she had been brought before three Sith masters... but he didn't know she'd become angry with them. He didn't know that that they'd chosen to let her live for reasons of their own. He assumed they'd been frightened off by the arrival of the Coruscant. At least, that's what she was fairly sure he knew.

    There were supposed to be no secrets between a master and a padawan, but Zemai had always kept some. There were things she didn't want to burden Coris with. He'd lost enough on Emraan without her adding to his worries.

    His face was drawn tight, and it looked to her like it was more than the mention of the planet. Coris always seemed to have some pain when the Force gave him visions, or at least it looked that way to Zemai. "What is it, Master?" she asked, going into the formal mode of address. "Have you sensed something?"
  7. RogueLead11 Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Aug 19, 1999
    star 2
    <<<Despite my vows never to write another poem after last time, somehow or other, I've tortured myself and composed a second one for this next installment. It doesn't really have anything to do with the plot, so it won't be restrictive, and it has a completely different format from the first. It's more like a children's song, simple and to the point, so try to keep that in perspective.>>>

    At first it had only been a slight throbbing in his temples, but after that, the pain grew rapidly worse. Coris suppressed a wince as a red-hot needle stabbed into his brain. Zemai's words began to sound far away in his ears. He ran a hand before of his eyes, noted how fuzzy it looked, half-wondered why his vision was going out of focus.

    He hadn't felt something like this since...

    Em'raan.

    Where are you?

    He blinked. A voice in his head? It was singing.

    Where are you? Not here.

    It was the voice of a little girl, untrained, innocent. The voice sounded sad. Some of the notes quavered, as if she were fighting back tears. Others simply trailed off. But the words still came through, clear and distinct.

    I sit here calling out your name.
    This dirty place...
    Was it home?
    Will things ever be the same?

    Coris felt his heart skip a beat. He could have sworn it sounded like... but it couldn't be. That had been so long ago.

    The cold, I can't bear
    But I know you don't care.

    Akira?

    Where are you?
    Not here.

    Then, just like that, the fog in his mind abruptly lifted. Coris found himself standing back in the cool night air, the wind blowing gently through his hair, Zemai staring at him with concern. "What was it?" she asked, putting a hand on his arm.

    Coris set his jaw grimly. "The Sith."

    [This message has been edited by RogueLead11 (edited 02-09-2000).]
  8. Loka Hask Jedi Knight

    Member Since:
    Jul 12, 1999
    star 3
    <<<Rogue, you tell me if anything is not to your liking and I will change it ASAP.>>>

    As Zalferix slid his chair back to withdraw from the council room, he glanced quickly at Akira, signalling her to quickly pull his council robe from his shoulders. Zalferix hated wearing the filthy human-style garb, but it was tradition.

    The Zal carefully watched as Akira fumbled with the cloak to drape it over her fore-arm. Zalferix cursed under his breath as he watched her struggle. Her motor skills weren't what they used to be, ever since the battle on Em'raan. He had used every technological advance possible, and for a time she was able to move like her injuries were never inflicted. But, over time, the effects of the surgery had begun to wear, and now she had trouble doing the simplest movements.

    Akira seemed to hear Zlaferix's thoughts. "Master," she whispered as they walked down the hall leading to the Zal's chambers, "you promised me a new-"

    "Hold your tongue," Zalferix snapped, looking in her direction. "I will find you a suitable..." Zalferix searched for the right word. "vessel soon enough. For now you will have to make do with your current one. I have yet to find a suitable body to perform the surgery."

    Akira was silent for the rest of the walk to Zalferix's quarters.

    Before Zalferix stepped through the doorway, Zalferix glanced down at AKira's legs. "Akira, your not wearing your braces."

    "I can do without them." she said through clenched teeth.

    "Go to your quarters and put them on now. Your legs are too damaged to support your weight alone. Either you put on your braces yourself or I strap you to your bed and put them on you myself. And why are you walking? You should be using the techniques I taught you to levitate. It relieves the stress on your legs."

    Without a word, Akira turned around and hurried off down the hall.

    Zalferix closed the door behind him as he retreated back into his quarters and huddled on the floor to meditate. That girl will be nothing but trouble. I have to find an acceptable vessel. And soon.
  9. luke's severed hand Jedi Knight

    Member Since:
    Jan 21, 2000
    Koenis, quietly, cursed himself for not going with Maapaa. Although they?ve been friends these many years, the proud and fearless Maapaa would, often, refuse his aid. Koenis knew to offer his protection would, at worst, hurt his feelings. But, it would better to hurt his feelings, then to have him, foolishly, endangered his life! Naively, Maapaa believed that the collection of his Wergo winnings was, simply, his right. And that, as he would say, was that! Unfortunately, when you?re dealing with the Grenouks, the clan that controlled the gaming and illegal enterprises of this small town, nothing is simple. Like the Hutts on Tatooine, the Grenouk clan had their evil, little hands in everything in this town, and this was not due to their keen business sense. This was the reason Koenis raced from their home, not fear, nor anger, but, the overwhelming concern that bubbled in him, compounded by the unarguable facts.

    The fact that, within Wergo?s short history, the game had?nt yielded any winners from the Pocaba Ulna residents should have concerned Maapaa. He relished beating the Grenouks at their own, crooked game and was determined to have his winnings. The Grenouk clan, however, do not lose, gracefully. Especially where their credits were concerned. Known for their ruthlessness, rumors have linked them to the disappearance of numerous Ulni that had been in the Grenouk?s ill favor. Pieces of some of their victims were often found scattered around the outskirts of town. Never the whole body, mind you, just a torn limb or two, as evidence of the evil encounter.
    This last thought made Koenis? heart beat with despair. ?I swear that I will bring them the full weigh of this disheartened Jedi, if I find they?ve made Maapaa one of those casualties!? he warned, as he adjusted the lightsaber that was secured to his utility belt.
    I will see nothing but Maapaa?s safe retrieval from those kidnappers, Koenis Jardunwe promised himself again. Seeing his long shadow on the path, he was reminded that time grew short. He quickened his pace to the Grenouk fortress.

    Overlooking Pocaba Ulna, the fortress sat on its perch atop the rocky cliff to the north. Koenis expected to be greeted with many traps and armed sentry, as he ascended the trail. Detecting nothing, he began to sense, that the unguarded trail served, more, as a dubious invitation to the dark stronghold at path?s end.
    The dark, gray fortress looked weathered by the frequent storms that it had endured in this region. It?s exterior was alarmingly battered and cracked, like the face of an old warrior that had seen much in its lifetime. The relic of an old cleric order that had long been dispatched; the stronghold stood in defiance to its surroundings. Its few, scattered observation hatches that were visible from the front overlooked the abandoned prayer field. The temple?s hatches and huge wooden doors, now appeared, more, like invitations to war than worship, having lost it?s faith and found corruption.
    It?s two doors stood unguarded. A dubious invitation, indeed.
    Koenis wondered if the Grenouk clan were distracting themselves with credit hoarding and other unsavory practices rather than protecting their stronghold. Did they not anticipate burglars or were they eager to challenge all those that arrived uninvited? We shall soon see, thought Koenis. We shall, soon, see.

    Koenis regarded the huge doors, briefly, before extending the force to deactivate its crude locking mechanism. A second attempt was necessary before the tumblers collapsed. He, briefly, chided himself for his rustiness at such a simple Jedi trick.
    ?There will be plenty of time for trickery?, he reminded himself. The opening doors squealed as if in protest to the intrusion. Koenis whispered a prayer, then proceeded through the entryway and into the fortress.

    Koenis was greeted broad stone steps that spiraled down into the belly of the fortress. He focused deep down the dimly lit steps and towards the darkness that awaited him. The walls, he noticed, were decorated with a variety of powerful weapons. Acquired, Ko
  10. The Rover Jedi Knight

    Member Since:
    Dec 28, 1999
    star 1
    The beautiful evening skies of Coruscant is a wonder for all who visit the planet. Inside the Jedi temple as the council is still in heavy sessions, there is darkness and silence surrounding the hallow halls. It is way past the midnight hours as some of the Knights are asleep, others are silently meditating, preparing their mind and bodies for tomorrow's lessons. There has been some tension among the rank and file for some time concerning the turn of events during the past month. The impending war with the Calmonian empire looms large as well as several defections of Knights to their erstwhile enemies, the Sith.
    That word is still a very delicate subject to discuss, for it can bring memories and feelings that can sometimes become overwhelming to those who have yet to master controlling anger and fear.

    It has been a little more than ten years since that terrible ?uprising' that literally made the Jedi Order choose sides. Some of them after encountering Seth Shadel and the Sith, chose to follow them, others remained behind , determined to uphold the order's twenty three thousand year code of acting as the guardians of peace and justice in the galaxy. Still...in side the temple, even today, you can almost hear the whispers and rumors float around the halls saying "Could the Sith , actually hold the keys t enlightenment ?" " Is this ...dark side stronger ?" In the minds from the highest master within the high Council to the youngest of excitable Padawans within the temple dorms , they can only say time will certain tell.

    Darkness and silence surrounds the hallways except for one chamber whose illuminating light glows dimly inside. A young woman sits by her window gazing at the magnificence of Galactic City. The multitude of ships and cruisers that fly by slowly even in this late hour shows that this is truly the city that never sleeps. She is a light brown skinned woman of twenty years of age whose medium length black hair is tied into a pony tail. Her attire is the basically what most Padawan's would were when the must retire for the evening but she has no desire to lay down to rest. Her brown eyes is simply entranced by the constant moment of ships flying by the Jedi temple. This is a sight that she sees almost every night whenever she is in her quarters, but the sheer beauty of her home is one, the young Jedi Padawan, Si'enna Kidda-Lar will never grow tired of. She thinks to herself that she cannot wait to finish her training so that she may experience what it is like to travel outside the temple, alone without her master by her side.

    " Si'enna ?" A gentle but firm voice calls out to her. The young Padawan doesn't respond at first, still fixed on the images outside her quarters. It is when her name is called out again but with more authority that Si'enna Kidda-Lar turns towards the source.

    " I am sorry, master..." she says apologetically knowing that her imminent reprimand is coming, " I did not realize that your were standing there."

    The image of her master that of a short alien female whose large eyes stand out from the rest of her calm but somewhat agitated face. Her long braided red hair is put together in almost majestic fashion as she slowly walks towards her apprentice with the same regal aura. Eil'leia Dawn is a Jedi master who commands respect and admiration everywhere she goes as she acts in a motherly fashion to all of the children within the temple whose yet to become someone's apprentice. Si'enna Kidda-Lar is nearly finished with her training so she now turns her attentions towards the younger children in the dorms. Eil'leia Dawn, after training two apprentices, is not sure if she will take on another one after Si'enna becomes a full fledged Knight, but for now, she is proud to have train this one who, despite her impatience in certain things, will certainly become a model Jedi Knight. Especially during these dark times. She walk over to her as Si'enna rises up ans slightly bow in reverence to her teacher,

    " That is because, once again you are not focused on shielding yo
  11. RogueLead11 Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Aug 19, 1999
    star 2
    Akira Hakim sat on the bed in her private quarters, glaring at the pair of braces resting in the corner. She clenched her fist and swept her arm violently to the side. The braces flew across the room to smash into the other wall with a satisfying crunch.

    "Your legs are too damaged," she said softly, scornfully, repeating what her Master had said earlier. "He should be out getting me a new body, instead of sitting there and commenting on the faults of this old one."

    What had Zalferix called it? Ah yes, a vessel. What an elegant way of putting it.

    The young woman scowled. She had not wanted to return to Em'raan Four. It held bad memories, memories she did not relish, but as Zalferix had been obligated to attend the Sith Council meeting, she had been given no choice in the matter. It had been ten years since she had last set foot on this pathetic mud-ball some called a planet. She'd come away a cripple, forced to depend on surgery and metal braces to retain her mobility.

    But it would not always be this way.

    Akira brushed a lock of black hair away from her face. She'd been everything from a blond to a brunette to a red-head over the years, depending on the "vessel" she'd been using at the time. She couldn't remember how many she'd cycled through - she'd even forgotten what her original body looked like.

    Every one of the replacements had deteriorated in the end. They'd all been too weak. She'd had to find another body each time, undergo surgery again and again with every transfer. Ara found herself looking at a stranger every time she passed by a mirror.

    She needed to find a special vessel. One that wouldn't fall apart under the pressure, as had all the others. One that was worthy of her, and she vice-versa.

    She already had one all picked out.

    Directly after the events on Em'raan, when she'd been recuperating from her near lethal-injuries, Akira had thought all ties to her Jedi past had been severed. A short time later, she'd found otherwise. An outlet to the outside world did exist; she could access it on her own free will, and she often did. Information came in bursts of emotion, bright pictures, or snatches of conversation. Sometimes she saw strange images in her dreams. It hadn't taken her long to discover where they had all come from: her brother, Coris.

    Just the thought of him made the blood boil in her veins. Though their battle on Em'raan had terminated any sort of kinship between the Hakims (she couldn't bring herself to call it love), it had done nothing to break their mental bond, the bridge that had bound them together since birth. She could see what her twin saw, feel what he felt. She wasn't sure whether the exchange was mutual. But she didn't care.

    So for ten long years, Akira had observed the passing world through a pair of eyes other than her own. She'd seen life move on without her. She'd witnessed Coris' joys and sorrows, his triumphs and defeats. She watched him slowly forget about her.

    She hadn't forgotten about him. For Coris was the part of the key to the acquisition of her next - and hopefully, last - replacement body. Her long-sought, ultimately perfect vessel.

    It all depended on the girl. Zemai, her name was. She knew her brother cared for the little brat; Zemai was not just an apprentice, she was like a daughter to him. He thought about her a great deal, worried and looked out for her. Through their link, Akira had seen the girl mature. She had just turned eighteen. Zemai was smart, young, and healthy. But most importantly, she was strong.

    She was perfect.

    If his precious Padawan Learner were to be taken away from him, it would destroy Coris. The irony of it all was delicious. Akira smiled. She could kill two birds with one stone, literally. Not only would she have a new vessel, but she would be able to turn the tables on her brother, do to him what he had done to her all those years ago. Soon, he would know what it was like to feel real pain. Not just in his body, but in his mind.

    Akira rose and went to the braces that she had flung into the wall. Settling back on the bed, she began
  12. The Rover Jedi Knight

    Member Since:
    Dec 28, 1999
    star 1
    The Republic's naval base is alive with movement that signals the preparation of war with the Calmonians. Soldiers are scurrying along taking care of their duties as other officers make preparations to split up the attack groups. They all act in conjunction to the other armed forces in the republic which consist of many ground and air forces. The Tactical Armed Space Corps is the official name of the Republics navy. It is the equivalent of the Ground Force Defense Corps which regards it to the elite status in the galactic Republic's armed forces. There are six divisional fighter Squadrons of the Tactical Armed Space Corps that defends the Republic from deep space. The first divisional squadron is called Alpha Assault. It is the largest group in the fleet. Burning Ravens is the second division which acts more like an escort service to the highest military officials and members of the senate.

    The Spirits of Glass is the third elite squadron of the naval forces. They are assigned to more cloak and dagger missions that require that stealth be of the essence. They are also equipped to attack while they are cloaked as well. Hell's Gate Squadron is the forth division that basically is responsible for tactical support for Alpha Assault Squadron. The fifth division is called the Iron Boat squadron, a very secretive group of fighters which reports directly to the Supreme commander of the Republic's armed forces.
    They are assigned to back up all of the divisional fighter squadrons when they are having difficulties in battle against the enemy. They are the second largest group in the entire naval fleet. The most famous of all the Republic's naval groups is the last division squadron in the Tactical Armed Space Corps called The Coven of Witches. They , more than any other group is the one that takes the most risks and stay in the most danger. The fighters in that group is fearless and inventive in their piloting techniques.

    Despite the elite status of the other fighter groups, The Coven of Witches is the most known and loved among the people of Coruscant. They are always the first to engage the enemies in battle, and even won dogfights when the odds overwhelmed them. All these fighter squadron groups is together preparing for the order to move out. As they continue to work , each of the commanders of their respective groups gather in the main conference room to discuss the different avenues of how to engage the Calmonians. Walking towards the conference room at a brisk pace is two members of The Coven of Witches , the leader of the group, Nigel Windrider and his second in command, Winsar Belas. The commander is a tall human with short dark brown hair and broad shoulders. He walks in quick strides suggesting that he is a man who knows the value of punctuality. He has the classic square jaw heroic look but has dark piercing eyes that says that he is all about the business at hand. Winsar Belas is a medium height alien humanoid who perfectly complements his commander in all facades, both in appearance and behind the scenes. He is loyal to his leader but is independent enough at twenty-five years of age to take charge if the opportunity rises.

    They are both dressed in their regular black and red pilots uniform with their rank insignias shining. Both of the pulse blaster is secured inside their holster but only Winsar has another small blaster resting in a shoulder holster. He is holding his cigar tight in his mouth as he tries to explain to his leader of who it is that is at the meeting. Nigel Windrider acknowledges his lieutenant as they come to the main conference chamber. The door slides open silently to find five men sitting in their seats with their respective assistants behind them. The commanders of the other divisions, look at both men walking in and gives greetings as both men return the salutations. Nigel Windrider soon sits in the last empty chair as Winsar moves to stand in back of him.

    " So you finally arrive, Nigel ?" speaks the commander of Alp
  13. JediGaladriel Manager Emeritus

    Member Since:
    Sep 3, 1999
    star 5
    Back in the Temple, things never changed. For a week, Zemai had been watching the politicians come and go, and had listened to the whispers of war. She and Coris had been told to prepare for imminent departure, but no reason had been given and no changes made in the daily rituals of the Temple. Master Rylok was a big believer in the power of routine.

    Zemai's own routine was simple enough -- she rose just before sunrise, did calisthenics, pretended to meditate for an hour, then studied for Repulic-required competency tests in language and history until lunch. Two hours after lunch were slated for mathematics and science, but Temple training was more stringent in these areas than normal school, and the Comps were something any padawan could pass by the age of ten. Those hours were generally what she loosely called her "free time." She spent them in the Temple library, reading widely in subjects which were of interest to her -- over the years, those subjects had varied wildly; currently, she was deep into the history of the human migration throughout the Republic. The many reasons the old spacefarers had headed into the deadly night fascinated her.

    In the week since Coris had awakened her from her dream, it had come again four times. It disturbed her, but it had ceased to frighten her, and she was determined to understand it, so instead of jumping into her migration history in the library, she sought out the librarian, and asked for files on dream interpretation. He disappeared wordlessly, and she went to the high window to wait for him to return. The day was sun-drenched and lovely. A part of her longed to be out in it.

    "Over there," she heard the librarian say behind her.

    She turned. Instead of bringing back a tray of file chips, the librarian had led in a Master more ancient than any Zemai had ever seen. He was small-statured -- shorter than she was, and she could look a Sullustian in the eye -- and what little hair he had left was a greyed-over purple. A slight hint of blue underlaid his skin, and his eyes were deep purple, but covered with white cataracts. Most striking, a pair of diaphanous wings formed an x-shape at his back.

    Ampinuan. Zemai had met very few in her life -- they lived far out in the Outer Rim, and had only been in contact with humans since the nearby world of La'azum had been colonized two hundred years before. They had largely kept to themselves for that time.

    "Good day, old Master," she said, bowing, though she realized that he couldn't see her.

    The old Ampinuan smiled. "Good day, child," he said. "I am Jamui. Master Sinupa tells me that you've been troubled by dreams."

    "Oh, I've merely been curious."

    Master Jamui laughed. "Really, young Zemai, you should know better than to tell a lie about your feelings in this place. You don't imagine that I believe that, do you?"

    Zemai shrugged extravagantly and turned away from him. "I believe it."

    A hand rested on her arm. The old man moved silently and quickly; she wondered if he'd flown, and how he'd known exactly where she was standing.

    "I long since gave up reliance on sight," he said. "Come, child. Sit with me. Tell me the visions the night has given to you. Sinupa was neither tattling on you nor ignoring your request. I am the best resource the library has on dream interpretation."

    Zemai considered the offer carefully. She was not interested in being psychoanalyzed and counselled. But Master Jamui seemed interested in the dreams as themselves. She sighed, and led him to a small couch where she often sat to study, and told him, coolly and clinically, what she had seen in her dream. She didn't include some of the thoughts she had -- particularly the memories of death on Emraan that haunted her as the drowning Sith claimed her body. Those were external memories, not an intrinsic part of the vision.

    When she'd finished, she looked up. Jamui had turned away from her, his face pale. "It is a dangerous dream," he said.

    "What sort of danger?"

    "The sort you bring upon yourself, olashya m'traet."

    Zemai waited for
  14. RogueLead11 Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Aug 19, 1999
    star 2
    Two Jedi Knights stood on one of the many balconies of the Jedi Temple, looking down into the depths of Coruscant. The midday sun shone brightly overhead, making passing vessels gleam as they zipped by on their private business. There wasn't a cloud in the sky. The day itself was perfect - but neither of the Jedi were of any mind to enjoy it.

    "You have heard the news?" Brendtan asked.

    Coris pushed back the hood of his brown cloak, tipped his head back for a moment to relish the feel of the sun on his face. The breeze ruffled his hair as he went to lean on the balcony railing. "War," he said simply.

    "Gossip travels fast in the Temple pipe-line. There are rumors flying about everywhere." His Wookie friend ambled over to take a place beside him. "The Council has already begun dispatching Knights. Have you and Zemai have been put on alert?"

    "Not as of yet. But we've heard the talk. It is troubling."

    "This is not your first encounter with the Calomians." Brendt watched a orange and yellow taxi-speeder careen through traffic below them. "They are a force to be reckoned with?"

    "The Jedi have faced worse enemies in the past. But they didn't have the Sith to worry about then." Coris' face suddenly closed up, as if he had just remembered something displeasing. There was a roll of parchment clenched in his hand. He handed it to Brendt. The Wookie only glanced at it before crumpling it into a ball in his fist.

    "Another proposal rejected?"

    "It's the twelfth," Coris said heavily. "The Council must never want me to find Jastiss Otonna."

    Without a word, Brendt tossed the paper-ball over the balcony railing. He didn't bother watching it fall.

    "Every time I submit a proposition to go search for the boy, they find some way to keep me occupied and diverted." As he continued, the other Jedi's voice became strained. "They sent Zemai and me on pointless missions. They said they couldn't spare any Knights, or that they didn't have enough ships. They gave me a month's worth of instructional duty here, teaching rudimentary saber technique to the pre-Padawans!"

    "The Council must have a pertinent reason for keeping you from your quest," the Wookie said mildly.

    "It's been ten years, Brendt," Coris countered. "I promised Karik I'd find his son. It was Master Otonna's death wish. The Council doesn't know-" He bit his lip abruptly and turned away, pulling his robe's hood back up to mask his face.

    There was silence between the two of them for a few awkward minutes. When Brendtan finally spoke, he was not angry nor surprised. If anything, he sounded... sad. "You have been dreaming about her again."

    Coris didn't reply.

    "You must let go. She is in a better place - you cannot do her any good by torturing yourself like this."

    "She can't be dead." The words, though quiet, were stated with conviction. "I know she isn't."

    "For a decade now, you have said the same thing."

    "It's the truth."

    Brendtan sighed and shook his head. This conversation was not a new one - they'd had it many a time before. And the result was always the same. "Time is nothing to immortal love," he said, mustering up a toothy grin. "Wherever she is, she is one lucky girl."

    Coris managed to smile back. "And I am one lucky man. You never met Jai'ana, Brendt. But you would have loved her. She's just like you."

    "Except she's willing to kiss that ugly mug of yours. A brave girl too, I'd imagine."

    Coris' bark of laughter broke the terse mood that had sprung between them like a wall. For the briefest of moments, ten years of age melted away from him and he almost resembled the earnest, naive twenty-three-year-old boy he'd been so long ago. Before the Sith. Before Em'raan.

    Before Jai'ana-Din Ronin.

    That night, the dreams returned. Maybe it was the twelfth rejected proposal, or his approaching thirty-third birthday, less than two weeks away. Maybe it was the rumors of impending war. Or perhaps Coris' heart was just aching more than usual. But for whatever the reason, the dreams had become worse.

    And he could only call them one thing now: nightmares.
  15. JediGaladriel Manager Emeritus

    Member Since:
    Sep 3, 1999
    star 5
    Zemai stood just inside the hall, hovering near the door that led to the balcony. She could hear Brendtan's low growls, and even a laugh once, but no matter how much time she spent with the Wookiee, she'd never been able to learn the language, and he was disinclined to speak to her mind-to-mind. Coris' answers were enough to give her an idea of what they were talking about. She'd started listening in the hope of hearing what was happening in the galaxy, but Karik's name had caught her ear. Another rejection in looking for Jastiss?

    Ridiculous.

    She was about to go out to commiserate when the other name came up, the name that made her feel like an intruder. Jai'ana Din. That wasn't her business. She might well be the only one in the Temple who didn't think Coris was crazy for believing Jai'ana alive, but that didn't change the fact that it was a relationship from which she was completely separate, and a place where she had no business intruding.

    Better to pretend not to have heard it.

    She stepped out onto the balcony. "Master," she said, nodded and giving Coris a slight bow.

    He smiled wearily. "Hello, Zemai. You didn't need to stand in the hall that long."

    She blushed. Of course he'd felt her there. She might be able to keep secrets from him, but she was completely incapable of sneaking up on him. "I didn't want to interrupt."

    Brendtan growled something that sounded pleasant enough, so she dropped a small bow to him as well. "I'm pleased to see you, Master Brendtan."

    The Wookiee shook his head.

    "It seems we will not be seeking out Jastiss Otonna before your apprenticeship is through," Coris said.

    Zemai's heart fluttered briefly, and her innards felt like they were collapsing on themselves. It was only a statement of something they both knew was true -- she could not remain a padawan forever -- but the birds of panic still flew in her mind every time she was made to think about it. And to finish it up without even completing the task they'd known about since the beginning? It would feel so... broken. "Master, we need to find him."

    "Would you have me defy the Council?"

    Yes! A hundred times, yes! "Of course not, Master."

    He smiled. "I can hear what you're really saying, Zemai."

    "May I speak freely?"

    "When have you ever not spoken freely to me?"

    She raised her eyebrows, but didn't answer. "It's absurd, Coris. Whatever reasons they think they have just can't be good enough to put it off this long. We both owe Karik a lot. And I think I know where to start." She held up her ring. "I've been thinking about it a lot. He told me the stone was from a krayt dragon. They're native to a world that was only colonized recently -- a desert planet in a binary system. They thought it was a third sun until they got close." Now, she was rambling, going off on a tangent from her colonization studies. She forced herself back onto the main point. "To get the crystal, he must have had some connection to the world."
  16. The Rover Jedi Knight

    Member Since:
    Dec 28, 1999
    star 1
    "One of my naval fleets have just come out of hyperspace, near the Republic's military outpost orbiting the planet, Maige in sector six."

    The holographic image of Sith Master Rimar is seen clear in the private chamber of Seth Shadel. The rogue Jedi is reclining on his sofa couch as his partner, Drey Jalex stands on the opposite side. His steel gaze is fixed on the holographic image as Rimar continues,

    "Even as we speak, my orders to the commanding officers are to attack right away..."

    " ...Catching those poor fools, completely by surprise." Seth says with a look of delight, " Excellent, Master Rimar. Our warriors is ready to ambush any Jedi Knight foolish enough to offer assistance to the Republic."

    " Lord Shadel, I must control the kingdom of San-Lar." Rimar continues in a hurried tone, " They control the massive distribution of the spice in that area, but more importantly, their vast resources will be invaluable to our cause."

    " Ever the conqueror, eh, Master Rimar ?" Drey says in a brooding voice, " Could their monarch, Delzor, being that he is a sworn to you, have any bearing in your decision to attack his kingdom ?"

    At those words, Rimar pauses. He doesn't betray any signs of being shocked by Drey suggestion. But clearly underestimated how much Drey and Seth would know about the inner workings of Rimar's kingdom. He would have to do a better job of discretion, allowing certain information regarding his personal dealings to be made available.

    " That, and the fact San-Lar is about to join the Republic ! I want to wipe out any and all assistance Delzor wishes to bring to the federation... I will not deny myself the power of his kingdom !"

    " So be it !" Seth says as he rises from his couch, " I recommend that you send some of your disciples to help enforce your armada's presence there."

    " Consider it done, my Lord.." Rimar replies quickly, " I will be in contact soon. I now have meetings with some of my cabinet ministers, to determine our next phase of attack, Rimar, out !"

    The Sith master's image fades out of view, leaving the two elders alone to discuss the turn of events.

    "You did not tell him of what it is we are attempting back on Coruscant." Drey says in a surprised tone, " I am confused...you told everyone else of your plans, why must Rimar be excluded ?"

    Seth's face contorts itself into a grim expression. He looks at his brethren for a quick moment before walking towards the door. The door slides open with a whoosh as the rogue Jedi motions to his friend to follow him. Drey follows Seth out the chamber to walk down the dark and silent corridor of the temple. The temple is only alit with torches that rest onto the wall brackets. They speak in a low tone, but their voices still projects and haunted echo throughout the hallways. Drey glances at his chosen leader, who walks slowly and silently,

    " You did not answer my question, Seth." Drey says in an almost chastising tone which doesn't disturb his friend in the least, " Why was Rimar not informed of our scheme back home. I know you told him of the plans you have to divide the Jedi's forces, but.."

    Seth immediately interrupts his brother, "We wish for our fellow Sith master to be victorious in war, Drey. But it is unclear to me that should the republic fall will...everything the Galactic Senate rule over, belong to our order ?"

    " You do not trust Rimar in that he will betray our cause ?" Drey asks.

    " It is not that I believe Rimar will betray us, I am only saying in the event that he does, we will hold the upper hand to secure our sovereignty !"

    " The ploy to dispose his father from the Calmonian throne was one of bold cunning," Drey says in a grim voice, " It does not surprise me, that he would adopt a reckless position of overwhelming everything in his path."

    " Which is exactly the reason why I have my contingency plan in place, Drey." Seth replies as he glances at his older ally, " It is in place, should our brother, Rimar decides that he would want to ?overwhelm' his allies...I have already taught him more
  17. The Rover Jedi Knight

    Member Since:
    Dec 28, 1999
    star 1
    A lone cloaked and hooded figure steps out the hover car onto the landing platform that leads directly to the Jedi temple. The beautiful skies of Coruscant is busy with many others ships flying to and fro. The sight alone can distract many, but for this one who is a Jedi Knight, the urgency of his visit is the only thing that is all consuming. He walks at a hurried pace to the large gates of the temple, where the order have resided since its inception. The Knights on guard speaks to gain identification but soon let him pass as he continues to walk to the main building.

    He gains entrance to find the many other knights and instructors conversing with one another. He soon stops one Jedi, who was walking passed him to inquire about another within the temple,

    " Yes, I know of him..." The Jedi says, "..He is an instructor located on the 181st floor loft."

    " Many thanks, fellow Knight." The hooded Jedi replies back, " You have been most helpful."

    The two Knights parts as the cloaked and hooded Knight continue on his search. He soon comes to one of the many turbolifts and steps inside to travel up to the higher levels. He stands silently, gazing out the lift, taking in more of the magnificent sights of the temple. It has been a while since he was last here with his master. Not much has changed physically, he thinks. But spiritually and emotionally, its almost as if the Jedi temple has gone through some of the most dramatic of changes. The impending war with the Calmonian empire hangs over the heads of all the Jedis. He prays that the council will act accordingly, but for now, he is only here for a specific purpose. The turbolift stops at his destination as he steps out and continues onward.

    In another part of the corridor filled with other Knights and Padawans conducting business of their own or for the cause of the temple, Coris Hakim walks slowly with his young apprentice, discussing the events that has occurred so far,

    " I will continue to try and persuade the council, Zemai, but after ten rejected proposals, I may have to exercise some patience and come at it from a different approach."

    " Master...I only wish to give you other alternatives on how can we start on our search." Zemai says as she tries to convince her teacher to consider following up on her ideas, " Jastiss Otonna certainly doesn't deserve to be excluded from his training in the temple, even if he is over the age of acceptance... the stones that Karik gave to me..."

    "...Your views of the stone's importance is very intriguing, my Padawan." Coris interrupts, " But it is only misplaced because of the limitations placed upon me by the council."

    Zemai looks into the face of her master to find a frustrated expression that matches hers. He is just as upset as her at not being able o fulfill Karik Otonna's last request. Master Otonna has done many things since both their paths crossed his. He has been a well known Jedi master who was seduced by the darkness of his inner soul, but found salvation upon death within the goodness of the light. He was redeemed through his many trials and found allies in the most unexpected of ways.

    " If we are called to assist the Republic in their battle with the Calmonians.." Zemai continues as her master looks on, " We will certainly have little or no opportunity to search for him."

    " We will find a way to seek him out, Zemai."Coris responds with a sternness to his voice that alerts Zemai to be on guard against displeasing her master, " If it is the will of the Force, Jastiss will be found and brought to Coruscant...and not a moment sooner. For now, let the matter rest..."

    " Yes, master." The beautiful apprentice replies humbly.

    They both reach Coris' private quarters as the elder Jedi Knight enters his chambers with Zemai walking slowly in back of him. She sees Coris walking by one of the large window that overlooks the other skyscrapers. He stops to gaze outside while Zemai stands silent at a noticeable distance behind him. The silence between them makes her uncomfortable,

    " I don't mean to over
  18. JediGaladriel Manager Emeritus

    Member Since:
    Sep 3, 1999
    star 5
    Zemai sat down on her cot, blowing a strand of hair off her forehead. Her heart was beating a bit faster than normal, and her face felt warm.

    What in the Maker's name had compelled her to tell Coris nothing was coming of his visions? He knew she was aware of them. And on at least a few occasions, she had been the one to tell him that she also believed. She was hesitant to do so -- because, she supposed, she didn't want him to get his hopes up -- but she had never imagined herself just flat out telling him to let it go.

    Well, so what? It's time he did. Ten years, he obsesses over, what, two kisses? Three? That's not healthy.

    She wrinkled her nose in annoyance at herself. She knew better. Most Jedi didn't choose to become attached in that manner, but for those who did... well, it was a life-bond, no matter how long or short the actual duration of the relationship. There was little pressure to seek out new relationships, and the sanctity of the Jedi mental bonds was a strong incentive not to. How, if one had even an idea that the bond was still active, could one pollute it with thoughts that might be hurtful?

    And the fact that if Jai'ana Din was still alive, she was captured and probably in pain didn't help. Cheating on a captive was beneath Coris Hakim.

    So why had she told him to let go?

    Because it's good sense, and that's all there is to it.

    The mental voice this time was firm and brooked no argument.

    There wasn't time to worry about that. Zemai had decided, as soon as she'd heard about the rejection, that this time, they would reallly go. Maybe it was the will of the Force that Coris had a stubborn padawan who wouldn't take no for an answer.

    She slipped her ring off her finger, and held the purple jewel to the sunlight that poured in through the window. Karik Otonna had told her that it was a stronger lightsaber. She didn't understand that, scientifically, as violent was not one of the three projective colors and required splitting, but then again, she had no intention of using it for her lightsaber. (For that weapon, she'd chosen the usual cool blue-white -- the high frequency made it the best for fending off attacks; red was best if you planning to do the attacking, because the lower frequency made the blade slice more smoothly, but Jedi were not supposed to plan to be on the offensive.) No, Zemai's jewel had some other destiny, something it was meant to be, something it meant, intrinsically.

    The sun sank a degree, and its refraction in the cut faces of the crystal split into two bright violet spheres and a strange, senseless phrase

    (the Son of the Suns)

    floated in and out of Zemai's mind. It had no context, and it barely left a footprint on her heart.

    She turned the crystal, and the sun split into a hundred suns, a thousand, sparkling through the room.

    "Show me," she whispered.

    Her eyes closed, and the visions came.

    First, always, the dust, the river of blood, the dream figures.

    "No! Show me what I can use!"

    For a moment, nothing came at all. Then the vision faded in. At first, she thought it was the same, the dream place. But there was no river, just dust.

    Not dust. Sand. And the twin suns overhead. She saw Karik Otonna in a speeder... she was seeing the past. It was a Karik before he had been reborn, a Karik of infinite evil. And a woman. And another man, and a little boy.

    Jastiss.

    The vision faded; it wasn't hers, and the Force would not show it to her.

    A moment later, the boy again, now older, different... but still there, under the hot suns, with the blowing, shifting sand around him. He didn't look like Karik. But Zemai knew him. He was the one she and Coris were looking for.

    It was so far... could she do it?

    She breathed deeply, focused on her vision -- did he open his eyes, just a little bit? -- and imagined a thread between their minds. Would he even be able to sense it? He was Karik's son, but the Force didn't always pass down cleanly.

    Well, now or never.

    Along the length of the invisible thread, across light years of darkness, Zemai Laryhi whisp
  19. Loka Hask Jedi Knight

    Member Since:
    Jul 12, 1999
    star 3
    It was pitch black.

    Gasping for air, he sat up and put a hand to his forehead. He was soaked with sweat.

    It was the dream again.

    The air was hot, and humid. Usually it wasn't, but the moisture vaps had been malfunctioning, spraying mist into the air. It would have to be fixed before the year's entire harvest was lost in the wind.

    He sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for his eyes to adjust. It must be the medication. These are the weirdest dreams I've ever had.

    He stumbled through the dark room toward where he thought was the doorway.

    He was wrong.

    Rubbing his forehead and cursing under his breath, he corrected his path and made his way through the small house until he was outside.

    The land ahead of him was flat, and the first hint of a sun was just coming up over the horizon. He smiled, and sat in the warm sand, leaning against the outter wall of the dwelling.

    If it was that damn medication, then why do I keep seeing the same thing over again, like it's one of those visions Olan keeps talking about? He stared at the ground as he wriggled his bare toes in the sand. The stones... the fire... the girl.... Dad. He clenched his fists with anger as he thought of the man. The last time he saw him, he was holding a lightsaber just above his mother's neck.

    But the girl... He chuckled to himself. Someone I probably saw in anchorhead.

    Jastiss Otonna...

    Jastiss' head snapped up to look at the person who had spoken.

    But there was no one.

    Yet, there was, but not physically. Not mentally, either. Just beyond his conciousness.

    At that moment, everything seemed to make sense.
  20. JediGaladriel Manager Emeritus

    Member Since:
    Sep 3, 1999
    star 5
    She felt the mental connection come into place -- nebulous, vague... but not uncertain. Jastiss could feel her there. But he wasn't a trained Jedi; he didn't seem to catch the thread completely.

    She explored what she could -- he was restless, troubled, and uncomfortably warm. And he... her eyes widened. He hated Karik. That was unexpected. That could be problematic. But she understood. Karik had tracked her mercilessly before he had been reborn, had maimed Coris, had embraced the Dark Side with abandon. If that was the only father Jastiss remembered, no wonder he hated him.

    She pulled together her own memories of Karik, first the terrible ones, then the uncertain time, when she'd seen him after he rose from the dead. Then the moment he had given her the jewel she now stared into, transfixed. She pushed them gently into the thread, hoping that at least the feelings would get through, so Jastiss would see that she did know the man he remembered, but that she had also known the man he became --

    "Zemai!"

    She dropped the jewel, and her end of the thread she'd spun. It seemed to still be there, lying idly on the plain between worlds, floating in an unseen breeze like a cobweb. She didn't try to sweep it away.

    "Coris, what is it?"
  21. RogueLead11 Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Aug 19, 1999
    star 2
    He is back on that desolate plain, with the sun baking down overhead from a clear blue sky. His vantage point is a hill, gently sloping downward into a sandy valley. There are people in the valley. Men, women, children... they all look happy. Content.

    He envies them.

    The bright sunlight dims. He looks up. Clouds are gathering overhead. But they do not resemble storm-clouds. They look more like fog or smoke. Wisps of the clouds reach out, curling lazily outward. They drift down into the valley and over the throng of people, carried on by a soundless wind. No one looks up as the gray mass descends slowly over their heads.

    He knows something terrible is to happen. He needs to warn them. But he finds himself bound with invisible chains and silenced by an invisible gag.

    Helpless.

    There is a little girl in the crowd. She seems to see him, as she turns her head his way. A pretty smile lights up her features. He struggles. She doesn't seem to notice what he is trying to say and only waves cheerily. He sees the threads of smoke stretch out toward her.

    Tendrils coil themselves around her outstretched fingers and crawl down her arm, spreading. They leisurely engulf her. Her torso is lost in a wreath of mist. Her arms and legs seem to disappear. The last thing to be covered is her face, still beaming, oblivious. The smoke obscures her for only a moment before lifting and dissipating away.

    It is enough.

    In the place where a young girl once stood remains only a tiny pile of ashes.

    The rest of the smoke wafts out among the others. They seem to evaporate at its touch. The crowd thins. Near the back, he sees a group of figures in brown robes: Jedi Knights. Many of them he recognizes immediately. The smoke does not spare them.

    Master Karik Otonna disinitegrates.

    Jaden Rylok's ashes blow away on the breeze.

    Brendtan simply vanishes into the air.

    The mist rolls on toward its next victim. The Jedi stands facing away from him. He knows who it is without seeing her face. Zemai stares out into the distance, unaware of the lurking danger. Ringlets of vapor begin to pool about her feet.

    No!

    The vapor abruptly moves away. Relief fills him. Until he sees the next person in line.

    Jai'ana-Din.

    As if sensing his anguish, the smoke passes her by too. Now he desperately wants to shout, to scream, to reach her. Jai'ana doesn't even glance at him. Does she even know he's there? The wisps of smoke jump to the woman standing beside her. But instead of making her disappear like the others, they simply entwine themselves about her legs. A hand gesture and they linger there, like an obedient pet.

    He knows this one too. Of course.

    Why are you doing this?

    Akira only smiles. She seems to take delight in his efforts to free himself from his invisible bonds.

    What do you need from me? Want do you want?

    She ignores him. The hand keeping the smoke threads at bay motions slightly. They shoot back to Jai'ana and Zemai, weaving themselves into the deadly clouds he knows so well. Neither of them do anything, take no notice. Why?

    What do I have to do?!

    He hears her laugh, but when he looks toward her, she is gone. Her words linger in the air, "Choose, Coris. Or you will have no one at all."

    She is right. The world is empty. The Force is nonexistent, the Jedi Order extinct. He is alone. No apprentice. No lover. No sister.

    No one at all.

    The last of the smoke clears away. Flecks of ash fall to the ground, scattering away over the sandy dunes of Tatooine. Lost forever.

    Tatooine...

    "Tatooine!"

    Coris awoke, the single word tearing itself from his throat unbidden. He put a hand to his head, sat up. The dreams were becoming worse.

    He was lying on the cot in his quarters. He must have dozed off sometime after Lywin Xar-Vel's visit. Their talk of Jai'ana had re-awakened the nightmares. Now they couldn't wait until after the sun set. They appeared whenever he closed his eyes.

    But it had to mean something. Dreams were often spoke of as murmurings of the Force. Coris himself had seldom dreamed until two months before. Around the same time he'd found t
  22. JediGaladriel Manager Emeritus

    Member Since:
    Sep 3, 1999
    star 5
    "I don't suppose you'd believe me if I said I was meditating."

    Coris shook his head. "I wouldn't have believed it ten years ago, and that was before I knew you. What were you really doing?"

    Zemai bit her lip, trying to stop a smile. She had to admit, she was pleased with herself. "As it happens, I was finding Jastiss Otonna."

    "On Tatooine?"

    She nodded. "How did you find out?"

    "Does it matter?"

    "To me."

    "A dream."

    "Oh." Zemai decided not to push. Coris might respond by pushing for her own dreams. Instead, she took his hand -- the same kind of gesture she'd made as a child -- and squeezed his fingers lightly, then sat down at the terminal built into her desk. "I'll see about transport. Though I'm sure you need my expert diplomatic advice to deal with the Council."

    Coris kissed the top of her head. "I'll muddle through." He left.

    Zemai settled herself comfortably, still in the warm glow of her success with Jastiss, and now with the added triumph of actually preparing to leave. She typed in the initializing command and waited while the slow, rush hour net made its connections.

    Coris had set her jewel down on top of her terminal, and the light reflecting off of it caught her eye. She didn't know what it was about it that was holding her, but she found suddenly that she couldn't take her eyes from it. It filled her vision and her mind.

    In the violet land, she saw the sun stretch, split into two. Clouds swirled around the new suns in the sign for infinity.

    Zemai slipped further into the vision.

    Sand blew sharply around her ankles, and the wind cut against her face. She could feel her hair pulled free of its pins. It tugged behind her, loose and free and wild. Her padawan braid alone stayed in its place. She reached to it, to see to it that the wind didn't catch it, and somehow she'd slipped its bands away, run her fingers through to release years upon years of forced waves. It lost its distinction.

    The wind was exhilarating, harsh, liberating, and deadly. It was also a vision. It was trying to show her something. She needed to follow it. She opened her arms, and let it carry her down off the rise.

    The pain began when her feet left the solid ground. The exhilaration evaporated like dew in a desert morning, leaving only the fire and the agony. She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came. Her mind was closed off and her arms and legs had no purchase.

    She reached desperately into the wind, seeing nothing to hold on to...

    ... then a hand grasped hers.

    She screamed, then opened her eyes. Coris was sitting beside her chair, holding her hand, concern written on his face. "Talk to me, Zemai."

    "I thought you were going to the Council."

    "I came back to remind you to check the pilot's credentials. I'm glad I did. What happened?"

    "I got a little overconfident," she said. "The Force reminded me who was boss."

    "The Force doesn't seek your injury, padawan." He tucked her braid behind her ear -- she reached up to touch it, to make sure it was still there -- then took her other hand. "Zemai, tell me."

    She looked down at their hands, resting on his knees, and wanted to. She wanted to tell him everything, and have him hold her and tell her that it would be all right, that the terrors would go away and leave her be. She wanted, more than anything, to be held and petted and comforted. It was a strange sensation, one that she couldn't remember feeling before. She turned her hands in his, and twined their fingers together. "It's windy," she said. "It's windy and hot and I feel like... "

    But she couldn't go on. How could she explain that she'd given herself freely to the killing wind? That she'd discarded the mark of her apprenticeship just to give herself to that abandon? She raised her eyes to his and shook her head. "I can't. It doesn't make sense to me yet."

    Then she did something that she hadn't done in many years, if she had ever done it at all. Oh, she offered surface embraces to her Master easily enough -- their affection was commented on (not always in a friendly way)
  23. RogueLead11 Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Aug 19, 1999
    star 2
    Tell her now.

    Coris automatically embraced Zemai as her arms went around his neck, and for only the second time since they'd known each other, his mind went blank. It was if a dam within the girl had suddenly burst, releasing emotions in a torrent. He'd never seen his Padawan so openly distraught. For a moment, there was nothing he could think to say.

    And so for a long time he said nothing at all, merely holding her to him, offering support in the only way he knew how.

    When the words finally came, they were tentative; he was half-afraid he would frighten her away. "Zemai, you know I would never abandon you," Coris said softly. Her apprentice leaned against him, her cheek to his chest. He hugged her to him and rested his head on top of hers, sighing. "If I had my way, your apprenticeship would last forever."

    "That's not possible." Her voice was muffled by the cloth of his tunic.

    "Not to mention selfish. Such is not the way of the Jedi." He snorted. "When you choose to walk the path of the Order, the journey is often done alone."

    Thoughts of Jai'ana Din instantly came to mind, but he pushed them back under before they could surface, leaving them to ferment in the depths just below his consciousness. He remembered Zemai's words from before. Perhaps he was crazy, but he could not bring himself to say he had been wrong for the last decade, that she was well and truly gone.

    He couldn't live a lie. And acknowledging Jai'ana's death would be the biggest lie of all.

    "Independence," he said, to break the silence that gripped the room. "Does not always mean loneliness."

    Tell her.

    No. Now was not the time.

    He could feel Zemai's thoughts, not as well hidden as they usually were. A turmoil of emotions: distress, apprehension... and the slightest tinge of fear. Fear of the future. Coris smiled faintly and squeezed her hands. "Most apprentices look forward to their graduation."

    "It's gone by so quickly," his Padawan murmured.

    "You'll be fine." The words sounded so hollow and cliché, he winced and amended himself. "I can't hold you back much longer. You have your own path to follow, as do I."

    She looked up at him earnestly. "But will they ever cross again?"

    "I don't know." Coris set her hands down in her lap. "I hope so."

    Tell her.

    Zemai didn't answer. Instead, she sat back and composed her features. He could feel her mental shields spring back to full strength. Disgust and annoyance were the most apparent feelings now. Anxiety had been shifted to the back of her mind, no longer an issue or a problem. His apprentice was never one to give frequent displays of vulnerability.

    It was so Zemai.

    He would miss her terribly.

    On impulse Coris leaned forward and ran a finger lightly down her nose, an affectionate gesture he hadn't used since her childhood. "No matter where you go, or what happens," he said, suddenly fierce. "I'll always be with you. Never forget that, Zemai Laryhi. Never."

    * * *

    He left the girl tapping away at her com-unit in the privacy of her quarters. She had assured him she would be fine. Down the hall, Coris called a turbo-lift and pushed a button for a floor at random. It was only after the lift had whisked him far away from Zemai that he slumped heavily against the wall.

    You should have told her.

    He'd received a second message from the Jedi Council, just after Lywin Xar-Vel had walked out his door. He hadn't been able to bring himself to mention it in Zemai's presence. Coris felt an iron fist squeeze his heart. The message had brought news. The news they'd both been dreading.

    In less than a month, his apprentice's Trials were to take place. In less than a month the braid behind Zemai's right ear would be severed forever. In that month, the Council would summon Coris Hakim to the Coruscant Training Temple.

    To review the prospects for his new Padawan Learner.

    [This message has been edited by RogueLead11 (edited 02-22-2000).]
  24. luke's severed hand Jedi Knight

    Member Since:
    Jan 21, 2000
    ?Where is it?? Maapaa grumbled, while he searched his travel chest in the cargo bay. He always misplaced his lucky fission crank. The tool had many uses, but for Maapaa it was a good luck charm, of sorts, that he took with him for long trips. Although he would never admit it, the multi-purpose tool had sentimental value, as well. It reminded him of the comforts of home, the few times that he was away on long trips, and the soothing satisfaction he would feel while working in his repair hut.
    Sometimes found within a sleep wrapper, a charge cell, and even at the bottom of his utility pouch (usually the last place that he looked), the tool was never too far from him. He took comfort in knowing that it would eventually become available to him again.
    The hunt was just a distraction, though.
    This past week had been hard for Maapaa. Koenis, the good friend that he?d known for these many cycles was forever lost to him. The anger and misery that had possessed Koenis so were gone. He was finally, thankfully, at peace.
    He glanced over to the dismantled lightsaber that lay on a workstation. An emerald crystal sat on the counter next to the disabled weapon, like a detached lifeline. In its crippled state, the lifeless apparatus lacked the intimidating presence it, once, held.
    Looking at the crystal, Maapaa remembered the twin moons of Greibos, as they had appeared that fateful night, above the ancient temple.

    Yub Ra and Elos, the twin moons of Greibos, loomed over the old temple. The celestial bodies cast their lime colored light on the ceremonial grounds below. The temple looked tranquil in the lime glow. The fromtis court that had served, for eons, as worshipping ground to many lost souls seeking relief from despair, now lays vacant. Devoid of the good spirits it once contained. Gone, forever, are the blessed ceremonies and tender offerings.
    Evil had permeated the walls of the, once, holy structure and imbedded itself within. New dwellers had converted the temple into their evil fortress. The temple?s time had, surely, passed, a long time ago.
    Deep within, the inner chamber facilitated yet another of the Grenouk?s cruel rituals. The spotlighted alter was now the converted throne to Fuuge-da, the leader of the Grenouk clan, who played host to tonight?s sinister exercise. Guumudo, his sinister attaché, stood at his side. At the center of the chamber the orifice that once served as the temples pit of offering, now made living sacrifices. The audience of worshippers, uncaring spectators that delighted in other?s despair.
    If they believe that this span of evil will go unchallenged this night, they are very mistaken. Judgement has bee passed on these new dwellers of the ancient fortress and they have been deemed unworthy.

    ? You only win, when I allow. No sooner.? Fuuge-da assured Maapaa in the Grenouk broken dialect, while settling back into his throne at the far of the chamber. Guumbo and the other Grenouk held their tongues, noticing Fuuge-da?s intentional pause.
    Maapaa was suspended over the sacrificial pit, while two Tubenge beasts waited below. He could see their pale yellow eyes, fixed on him. Their constant growling calmed to occasional throaty sounds to indicate that they have settled and await their meal.
    ?But, you get too bold. Thinking you can get my credits, Tubenge pauta!? said Fuuge-da, calling Maapaa the beast?s chewing toy.
    ?Now you owe big, rocha!? he spat, referring to Maapaa as live bait. At this, the clan shouted excitedly.
    Carefully considering his current situation, combined with the Grenouk?s excitement and unpredictability, Maapaa thinks very carefully about what he should say. He must be concerned about incurring the clan?s wrath, but also he should be assertive. He contemplated this for a moment.

    ? Ya cowardly buncha, conniving cheats!? he exclaimed anyway.

    The Grenouk clan stared at him in shock and surprise. Such a remark seemed suicidal.

    ? I beat cha and y?crooked, little game! ?Uhm just ?ere to get whatta deserve! Now.Get.Me.Down. From. ?ere!? Maapaa demanded. The chains started to sway from h
  25. JediGaladriel Manager Emeritus

    Member Since:
    Sep 3, 1999
    star 5
    Zemai didn't try to reach Jastiss Otonna again over the next two days, nor did she send herself into anything that resembled a meditative trance. For that matter, she avoided sleeping as much as possible. It wasn't that difficult. Things had suddenly begun moving fast, and Coris was going out of his way to keep her busy.

    A ship hadn't been hard to find -- on Coruscant, finding a ship was never much trouble. Finding a captain who was willing to fly off to some desolate desert in the Outer Rim was another matter. No profit to be made while the Jedi did whatever they were going to do. Zemai did everything short of a mind trick to convince them, and she might have crossed even that line if the Force hadn't finally brought things together. No private pilot was going to Tatooine, but there was a shipload of settlers. It wouldn't get them back to Coruscant after they'd found Jastiss, but even Tatooine had spaceports, and finding a pilot willing to go to the center of the Republic wouldn't be too hard. Maybe they'd even be able to buy a ship; Zemai had heard rumors that ships went cheaper in the Outer Rim.

    Coris had approved the plan immediately, and set Zemai to the task of packing and gathering needed supplies. He spent time meeting with the Council -- trying to argue them into agreement, she supposed, though he didn't discuss it with her. Fluttery panic crossed her mind, and she squashed it; even if the talkes weren't about the mission to Tatooine, even if they were about... about what she was terribly afraid they were about... panic would do no one any good. And she had something else to focus on now. She would get them to Jastiss Otonna.

    She met Coris at the spaceport just before the settler's transport was scheduled to leave. They carried little, and what there was was largely cosmetic; it was better to appear to be settlers than to simply appear as Jedi.

    "Are you ready?" she asked.

    He gave her an odd look, and a sad smile. "Not really. Let's go."

    They entered the transport together, looking less like Master and padawan than like a father and daughter -- or maybe a brother and sister -- heading off into the frontier together, or at least Zemai imagined they did.

    He's not your brother, a harsh voice said in her mind. It was not her own inner voice. But you go right on with this pathetic family fantasy of yours. Everyone else knows the truth. Everyone else knows what you really want.

    Zemai's heart froze. She recognized the voice, but she couldn't place it. And the words... she didn't know what they meant, except that she knew exactly what they meant, and she wasn't afraid of what "everyone else" might know, except that she was ashamed at the thought of anyone knowing it.

    She glanced over at Coris. He didn't seem to have noticed anything.

    The voice didn't speak again.

    She settled herself into a corner of the transport, and felt the thrusters kick in. By the time the captain ordered them into hyperspace, she had fallen asleep, dreaming only of the faraway desert planet, where fate rushed at her with the lines of the stars.
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