Before - Legends Rain (3300 BBY, all OCs, Complete)

Summary: The Sith war machine bears down on the Republic once again, and a young Jedi must make a choice.
Notes: This is a repost of a short story that I posted back in 2009. I finally finished it (about time, ya bum) but decided to repost instead of update the old thread because I didn't want to deal with editing the formatting and truncation. Enjoy!


Rain.

On Coruscant, rain is an artificial thing. Unnatural. A perversion of the element, bent to serve the selfish wants of beings of power. It goes where directed, but at a price. The rain of Coruscant is not the refreshing shower of other worlds, instead marred by the fumes of millions of factories. The acidic downpour defaces the work of its masters, even as it moves to the purifying containers for their use.


Rain on Coruscant is a powerful force. The rulers have learned to direct it wherever they wish, from a light shower over the high-tech Senate District Purifying Plant, to an unstoppable deluge on those less fortunate than themselves.

Only sometimes, the rain is too much to handle. Sometimes, the rain takes on a life of its own, feeding off its masters’ power until its own might is too great to handle. Sometimes, the rain becomes a storm that demolishes and destroys until its power is spent and entire sections of city are reduced to rubble.

I​

Miko Arrano stood in the vaulted Temple hallway and stared out the tall windows at the rain. The gloomy skies reflected his mood. Why wouldn’t the Council listen to him? The war was not going well, despite all weak assurances and platitudes. The Sith were growing stronger every day, and even had several footholds in the Core Worlds. They would not stop until they claimed this world, the jewel of the galaxy. Sighing, he turned from the portal. The wall he now faced carried a mural of a great Jedi victory, one of the many in the Temple. Not likely to see anything like that anytime soon, he thought. Just then, another Jedi came up behind him.

“How’s it going, Miko?” asked T’jace Meneltarma.

Miko smiled. He should have known T’jace would try to cheer him up. He turned around.
“Not good,” said Miko, choosing to get to the point rather than waste time on pleasantries. “The Council denied my request to access the holocrons… again.”

“That’s ridiculous! Your reason was perfectly sound. As strong as you are with the Force, you could easily develop many new battle techniques with that knowledge.”

“Don’t I know it,” Miko replied. His face darkened and was about to launch a tirade against the stupidity of those cowardly old geezers, when T’jace hastily changed the subject.

“So, uh, how about showing me those new tricks you told me about?”
“They’re not simple ‘tricks.’ I defeated the Sith hordes at the Battle of Glee Anselm with this technique,” protested Miko.

“To the training room, then,” said T’jace, eager to test the skills of his comrade.

“No,” replied Miko with a wicked grin. “Outside.”

<V>​

Lightning clashed in the tempest. Two men, two Jedi, two friends fought on the slick surface atop the plateau of the Jedi Temple. Above them in the lofty Council spire, two Jedi masters watched their swordplay. Back and forth flashed the lightsabers; back and forth rolled currents of the Force.

“Strong they have become.” The master who spoke was small and yellowish green.

His companion, a tall human nodded. “None finer in the Order.”

“Then why so sad you look?”

“Are you joking? The way the other Council members treat them?” He paced to the other side of the chamber.

“Perhaps, not only for them are you angry.” The wizened Master looked expectantly at him.

“Insightful as always, Master Yrkz. I suppose I am a bit resentful that they blew me off back there.”

The little green alien snickered. “So controlled, you seem. Surprised I am, to not find you in such a state as you were at yesterday’s grav-ball match, Master Xerrol.”

“Eh, I save the theatrics for the kids.” He paused. “Master, this is serious business. I don’t have time to receive tips on coaching. We’re in a war, and I want our Jedi to be prepared for anything they might face.”

“Sad, what you say, but true. Come to doubt the wisdom of the division of the Order into specialty areas, I have. Encourages beings’ natural selfish political urges.”

“Yes. But this is nothing new. Have you thought of a way to stop the elitism of Magnus and the others?

“No. Fearful I am, that the Sith will exploit our division before heal it we can. A dark cloud has been growing on the Force.”

Master Xerrol considered the weighty implications of this; his friend was as good a seer as any in the Order. “Then we will just have to trust in the Force.” He turned back to the viewport. “And in our Jedi Knights.”

<V>​

Miko launched a lightning-fast sequence that became progressively stronger with each strike. T’jace, as always, gave ground, blocking and deflecting. Miko knew him well, and knew that his friend was more than a simple practitioner of the third form. T’jace had a highly powerful and unpredictable offense, seldom used except on the battlefield. Instead, he chose to hone his defensive skills. Miko sliced horizontally twice, then stretched out with the Force and pushed. T’jace was flung several meters backward, giving Miko the space he needed. “Here we go,” he muttered to himself, starting the complex steps to unleash his next attack. First, he reached into the Force, explored it, and took its measure. Now for the tricky part. He felt the storm around him with his Force-given perceptions, then embraced it in its entirety, opening a gateway to unlimited power in his mind and stepping into another dimension of the Force.

He could feel T’jace stepped back from uncertainty. He could sense the gathering of power in his fellow Knight, and could tell his friend was preparing a Force shield or some such defensive action. He sneered; it would take a great deal more than such a pitiful basic technique to stop him. Did he think I exaggerated my power? He could feel T’jace strengthen his protective veil that automatically went up any time he fought and prepare to block or dodge whatever devastation Miko had in mind for him.

As soon as Miko stepped through, his vision changed. Everything was connected, and he could see it, from the way the planet’s orbit affected gravity to the microscopic electronic attractions between the clouds, the rain, and all their surroundings. He seized on the storm, and lightning started to form, growing from those miniscule attractions to a small spark to an arcing current to titanic flashes of lightning. Soon the sky was alight with the bursts and jagged streaks. He directed four of the largest at the lower Temple towers, then transferred their power to the focus, the Council spire and let go.

The bolt flew from the matrix toward T’jace at an incredible speed.He could tell that no shield he projected could stop an attack so fast and so powerful.Neither could he get out of the way, even aided by his precognition. He was just too slow.

 

I really enjoyed this! I especially liked the Masters watching and talking about the Knights.

He could tell that no shield he projected could stop an attack so fast and so powerful.Neither could he get out of the way, even aided by his precognition. He was just too slow.
Wow...


Great job!

 

Wow, I like that - your description of Miko gathering the Force was really good, nice one!

 

Thanks for the responses, y'all!

II​

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The attack detonated with tremendous force. ​

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“A pity. I thought he was strong enough,” thought the consular. He walked over to where his opponent lay flat on his back. He was unconscious, but otherwise alright.​

​

“It seems I underestimated you.” Miko stood over T’jace’s body in the rain as the two Jedi Masters and a squad of healers rushed to the scene.​

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While the healers took T’jace to the Temple central medical facility, Masters Yrkz and Xerrol pulled Miko aside. Numb with shock, he allowed them to lead him to a small room near one of the gates to the great rooftop inner courtyard. ​

​

Master Xerrol was first. He had a reputation as one of the most plainspoken Jedi in the Order. “What were you thinking, Arrano?” he demanded. “Were you trying to kill him? Sithspawn, I thought you two were close friends!”​

​

The other Mater held out his hand in a restraining gesture. “Peace, Master Xerrol. I’m sure young Miko has a good reason for his actions.” Yrkz turned his chilling green-eyed gaze to Miko.​

​

Miko hesitated. Normally a Jedi Master asking this sort of question with such a tone would make him defensive and resentful, but not now. He was to worried that he might have seriously hurt his best friend. I’ll never forgive myself if I end up killing him, he thought. I’ve got to get away from these judging eyes. “Uh, I guess I don’t know my own strength?” he offered weakly. He saw the disbelief on their faces, and gave an exasperated sigh. “Look, we train like this all the time. If we want to perform well as Jedi, we have to sharpen iron with iron. I hold no ill will toward T’jace, as you both should know well. I can assure you that I will exercise greater care in my actions in the future. May I go see how he’s doing now?”​

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Master Xerrol looked to Master Yrkz, who nodded. The human smiled at Miko. “Go on.”​

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“Humility is not his strong suit,” said Yrkz as they made their roundabout way to the Tower of the Healers.​

“And yet he showed it anyway. He’s a good kid.”​

Yrkz made a peculiar snuffling laugh. “Children they are no longer. Old, you have become.”​

“Not as old as you, my friend!” Xerrol exclaimed, sending the duo into a burst of laughter.​

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The turbulence rocked the shuttle as it descended into the atmosphere. The storm intensified along its flight path, as if it could feel its reflection inside the vessel. The occupant, a man in black robes, purposefully steered the craft toward his destination. Soon, the one I have chosen will be in my grasp. Soon, I will have the tool to destroy my enemies.​

 

That last one was a bit short, so I'll put up two tonight.

III​

The Soulsaber must be completed

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Miko went toward the healing ward. The healers caused him no fear, as his own kind did, those who specialized in the mysteries and power of the Force. However, the old wizards feared him yet more. Of course they did, there was the prophecy to consider. But he was determined not to fulfill it. He saw his unconscious friend, and shame filled him. I will try harder, he decided. He would learn to control his power, and would not hurt his friends. He would become strong, and destroy his enemies.

He noticed another Jedi watching him from the corner. He was a short human male that Miko had never seen before. “Hello,” he said. “Come to pray for the sick as well?”

“Of course not. The Force is all the religion any Jedi needs.”

“You are right. It was merely a figure of speech.” The other Jedi extended his hand. “My name is Curu’thas, I’ve just arrived from wandering the Rim.”

Miko took it. “Miko Arrano.”

“A pleasure.” Curu’thas gestured at T’jace’s still body. “What happened to your friend?”

“Training accident. I went too hard on him.”

The other Jedi smothered a hint of amusement at the words “training accident.” “I’m sorry to hear that. I trust the Council was understanding?”

“Oh, sure, understanding. Yeah, Masters Yrkz and Xerrol let me off, but don’t think for a second that Magnus and his cronies will let this slip.”

“Hmm. I don’t know much about these Coruscant politics, but I wouldn’t worry if I were you. Here, would you mind showing me what was done?”

“What, in here?”

“Oh! You thought I meant physically, Force, no. No, my young friend, I want you to show me in your mind. Open yourself to me, so that I can see.”

Miko didn’t normally trust anyone with his secrets, but there was something about this man that compelled trust. “Alright then, but don’t blame me if you end up like my friend.”

“I assure you, I am quite skilled in the operations of the mind,” Master Curu’thas replied. Miko took a deep breath, and reached out to the Force. He mentally repeated the fight from earlier, only this time it was Curu’thas who would take the bolt of lightning, not T’jace. However, just as it was about to finish, the master vanished. Miko opened his eyes.

“I see,” said Curu’thas, “and yet I do not see. Where does your power come from, young Jedi?”

Miko blushed slightly. “My power is not the thing. By itself, it is scarcely more than any other Jedi,” he said modestly. It is from the Force itself that I get my power.”

“But so does every other Jedi. Why should you be any different?”

“It is all about perspective. The secret is in opening your eyes.”

Curu’thas laughed. “Thank you for your wisdom, young master Jedi. I never would have thought to meet one such as you, here on Coruscant, Seat of the Soft. I sense you have more wisdom and power than many Jedi Masters, yet retain the fire of youth. I believe I will go and meditate on how to see.” Miko might have taken his words as mockery from the mouth of another, but this man’s manner put him at ease.

They said their farewells, and Miko turned back to his friend. After the stranger had left, Miko was filled with his old suspicions. Who is that man? Why did I trust him so? And yet, he decided, he wanted to trust him. The Force knew, he was tired of the games, tired of the council and their stupid politcs, tired of this planet. Even the storm outside seemed determined to irritate him, where an hour earlier it had obeyed his commands. He wished he were back in the field, saber in hand, bringing fear to his enemies. For while he was trapped here, though he would not admit it, even to himself, it was he who was afraid.

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En route to check on T’jace’s condition, Todd Xerrol and his friend Yrkz were intercepted by a messenger. “The Council has been called to meet,” the youngling announced. He looked like he had not yet seen his tenth birthday. Xerrol forced himself not to scowl. There had been many cases of younglings fleeing or crying in fear of his wrathful countenance. It would not do to scar this one for life, thus robbing the galaxy of a valuable Jedi Knight, now would it? He sighed. It appeared he would have to put up with that farce of a council for several hours, hours he had planned to put to use sparring with some of the older Padawans in the Temple. He could easily guess who was to blame for this inconvenience, yet he decided to confirm it. “Who called the meeting?” he asked the youngling.

“M-Master Magnus, sir.” The child looked ready to bolt.

“As I thought. Thank you for delivering the message to us, we shall be along presently. You may be excused.”

The boy gave a quick, yet correct bow and ran off down another passageway. “It appears that the old mage is determined to rob me of my off day,” he said to Yrkz. He knew that his little green friend held similar opinions of Magnus and his ilk, yet he had his face screwed up in what passed for a grin on his droll trollish face.

“Disappointed that unable to play with the Padawans, are you?”

Todd had to chuckle at that, despite his grim mood. Yrkz knew as well as he did that being a Master, not to mention being on the Council, could be a great burden at times. And such a time was this. No, he could not take off the cloak of a Master that had been laid on him, not today. It would have to wait for another day, his sparring. And then he could be young again.

 

IV​

The Force is a tool for knowledge, and through knowledge, power. With these tools, a Jedi can enforce peace, and rule wisely.

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Nidaiman Genabarii stood just outside the High Council chamber, waiting for Master Magnus. Seven of the council members were already inside, chattering away like hens in a pen. Fools, the lot of them, but they had their uses. Except for that idiot Xerrol. He had arrived moments before, and had greeted Nidaiman with one of those “accidental” elbows. With people like him on the council, it is a wonder that the Order is doing as well as it is, especially considering the war.

Nidaiman felt a wave of power. He’s here. He stepped forward and bowed. “Master.”

Magnus nodded to him. “Second.” He looked around. “Why, it appears that Master Yrkz is not here yet.”

“Yes, Master. No doubt the goblin is using his age and size as an excuse for his tardiness again.”

“Perhaps. Even if so, please try not to be so disdainful around our fellow Jedi. After all, unity is one of the greatest advantages we have as servants of the light.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Now, I have a request for you. While we are all tied up with the meeting, I would like you to pay a visit to young Arrano. It seems he has made a breakthrough, one that would benefit us all.”
“Yes, Master.” Nidaiman bowed and turned to leave. That is why he is master, and I am not. There are few powers to match that of a silver tongue.

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Master Yrkz stepped into the Council Chamber, moving at a pace comparable to a turtle’s. “Thank you for deigning to join us,” said Magnus. While he was a paragon of Jedi calm, it was clear that his colleague’s perpetual tardiness irked him. Todd smiled inwardly. He enjoyed seeing anything get under his rival’s skin. After Yrkz had taken his seat, Magnus moved on to business, which was undoubtedly something unpleasant.

“My fellow Jedi, welcome, and thank you for answering my call. The war goes well. Despite being driven from Dantooine, we have won resounding victories at Alderaan, Glee Anselm, and Corellia. Among the leaders in these victories were many of our most promising young knights. Miko Arrano can answer whatever strength the Sith throw at him, and with Meneltarma at his side, he is virtually unstoppable. However, their lack of discipline concerns me. For all his raw power, Arrano lacks control, as today’s incident so clearly shows. This, in spite of countless attempts by myself and my fellows to guide him, which he most ungraciously rejected. My friends, we cannot afford self-inflicted losses. What happened today will happen again, if we allow it. Some of you may be thinking, ‘It is merely youthful recklessness, it will pass soon.’ Such an attitude is negligent and irresponsible. It is part of our mandate to ensure that a Jedi should not cause harm to another Jedi.”

He paused. “Carelessness is not our greatest concern. Left unchecked, however, a well-intentioned soul could well blunder into darkness. We cannot afford to lose such as Arrano to the dark side, of in this time of conflict. Therefore, I humbly suggest to the Council that Arrano be placed under supervision. I know that I or any of my fellow consulars would be honored to serve in this manner.”

Todd was stunned. Even he had not thought Magnus would make a move as bold as this. Discussion broke out amongst the councilors, but it was plain that Magnus’ motion would prevail. Todd had several objections thrown in his face, until he found he had nothing left to say. He resigned himself to the inevitable. Soon the lone dissenting voice was that of the elderly Yrkz.

“I will not go against the will of the Council, but know this: your interference with Miko will only bring trouble.” Master Yrkz sighed, then rose. “I assume we are done here, then?” he asked Magnus.

“Yes, I have nothing else to bring before the council. Thank you for your understanding, Master Yrkz. While I know we disagree on this matter, I believe your wisdom is invaluable to the Order.”

As the wrinkled green master left in the same manner he arrived, Todd couldn’t help but feel for him. After all, Miko was his apprentice, just as I was.

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They are strong. Very strong, the dark figure thought begrudgingly. Even in their strength, though, there is weakness. Easily divided. I will need… an ally. This irked him. He was not used to seeing others as equals. Surely there is one here with a hunger for knowledge.

 

Great updates!

That last paragraph make me nervous! For that matter Curu’thas makes me nervous too!

 

Thanks for reading. ​

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V​

Miko was returning to his room from dinner when he ran into the most disagreeable man he had ever met. Nidaiman Genabarii was powerful and possessed much hidden knowledge, but he was also a conniving, petty sort of man who would walk on those beneath him without hesitation, especially if he thought they might change the status quo. A bright young Jedi like Miko, strong in the Force, fit neatly into that category. Miko was accosted in a hallway with little traffic, which meant Nidaiman wanted a private interrogation rather than a public humiliation.

“Hold, young Arrano!”

Miko grimaced. “Is there something I can do for you, Master Genabarii?”

“You showed a dangerous power in today’s accident. You must show me how you did this so that other Jedi do not suffer the same fate as Jedi Meneltarma.”

“Ha! Like that’s going to happen. There’s no way I’d teach it to you of all people. I’m not as big a fan of the prestige and power of one Nidaiman Genabarii as you are.”

“Impudent pup! I am glad to bring you your comeuppance. This is not a personal, academic request.”

Miko was filled with a sense of dread. “What do you mean? What have you done?”

“The High Council has assigned the Consular Force Enrichment Council the responsibility of your safety retraining.”

Miko grasped his lightsaber. “Like hell I’ll let you crazy sorcerers pick my brains!”

Power flowed from their hands and clashed halfway between them, not as an attack but as a gathering and unveiling of their powers. Into this tense escalation came a voice that spoke of reason.

“Gentlemen, gentlemen! Are you not both Jedi? Surely we can resolve this without violence,” said Master Curu’thas, stepping between them.

“Ah, good, Master Curu’thas. Help me restrain this rebellious one.”

Curu’thas touched his arm. “I know your intentions are good, Master Genabarii, but you must know that antagonizing our young friend here is not going to make your job any easier. He is dangerous, you say. Why then tempt him to be a danger to you?”

Nidaiman shifted uneasily. “Curu’thas, it’s not like that…”

“I believe you. But good luck convincing him of that,” he said, nodding to Miko, who still stood stiffly, ready to act.

“I… see your point. What do you suggest?”

Curu’thas subtly winked at Miko. “I get to give Miko a simple test. If he fails, I’ll turn him over to you and your sub-council.”

Nidaiman eyed him suspiciously. “What kind of test?”

“I will tell you shortly. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like a moment alone with my new charge.”

“Fine, Curu’thas. But this had better be good, otherwise I will return with the full power of the High Council of the Jedi Order,” he said, and marched off.

Curu’thas watched him go. “Well, Miko, I’m sorry this had to happen to you, especially after a rough day like today.”

“Thank you, Master,” said Miko, “but I get the feeling I’ve been snatched from the burner and thrown into the reactor chamber.”

The master grinned. “Ah, yes, well, I think that you’ll find that my little ‘test’ is more to your liking than all these power struggles. What I have for you is a power that is real, if you can master it. If you find within yourself the ability to do this, you will never have to answer to Genabarii, the Council, or anyone ever again. I believe in your potential, Miko, and I want to help you achieve it. Achieve it for yourself, not for a cadre of meddling mages.”

It seemed too good to be true. A chance to prove himself, and be rid of constant harassment. It was exactly the kind of thing Miko needed. “Alright,” he said, “what do I need to do?”

“There is an artifact that I created, an artifact of great power. However, although I know what is needed, I don’t have the ability to complete it.”

“What is it? What does it do?”

“I call it the Soulsaber. It will be a weapon unsurpassed, as far above lightsabers as they are above primitive swords. It requires a wielder of great strength and connection to the Force. Connection such as I have never found, until I met you, Miko.”

“No one gives something like this away for free. What’s the catch?”

“There is none. I want to see my masterpiece completed, and I’m not too proud to admit that I can’t do it. Also, rescuing you from the clutches of those vultures is worth it.”

Miko considered briefly. “I accept,” he said.


“Good.” Curu’thas handed him a data crystal. “The location of the object and some instructions are in here. Now I need to go placate Master Genabarii. May the Force be with you.” They bowed, and parted ways.

 

VI​

Nidaiman received Master Curu’thas in a little-used briefing room whose décor was several decades out of fashion. “So, let’s have it then,” Nidaiman said. “What is this ‘test’ of yours, and why should I allow you to interfere with the ruling of the Council?”

Curu’thas settled into a plush armchair that accentuated his small stature, and Nidaiman reluctantly followed suit, determined to retain his sense of control of the meeting. He was the Council’s deputy, after all. However, the other Jedi seemed oblivious to his impending clash with the Law. It was the most unusual defense Nidaiman, or any Council-appointed arbitrator, had ever heard.

“I’ll start with you,” Curu’thas said with a disarming smile. “What is your motive for carrying out the Council’s will? Why, to further the cause and influence of you and your peers, of course. As the Second Mage—yes, I’ve heard the nickname—you in particular stand to gain from the acquisition of Jedi Arrano. I’m sure that you all will keep him secure, although stable is another matter. Now, now, no objections yet, please. They won’t do you any good anyway: I am not so blind that I cannot see for what a heart beats.”

The windows in the hall grew dark as the last rays of sunlight fell beyond the horizon. Feigned outrage gave way to suspicion and defensiveness. “And what, pray tell, do you see in my heart?”

“Since you ask, I will be direct. I see in you a thirst for power. Unlimited power. It must be hard for such a man to live in the shadow of another.”

This was no defense, no plea for mercy. This man was trying to sell him something. He had certainly researched his market. “What do you want?” Nidaiman asked flatly.

“Leave Arrano to me, and I can ensure that you surpass Master Magnus. There is a whole river, an ocean, whose currents none of you have dared explore.”

“If you are referring to the dark, it has been rejected. Not only is it unseemly among the rest of the Jedi, but it is impractical as well. From all precedents, we have seen how one who falls ultimately loses control. If I were as self-interested as you claim, I would still have no reason to listen to a heretic such as yourself. For too long have we let you rimkin shamans run loose, teaching and practicing who knows what.” He stood and strode to the door, then suddenly stopped as if something had grabbed him from behind.

“You are a fool, Nidaiman Genabarii.” That wonderful, melodius voice had become sinister. Deep and breathy it spoke now. “As you would know if you were any true master of the Force, one need never lose control if the will is strong enough. I am giving you this opportunity; if you waste it, the like will not come again in your lifetime.”

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Miko strode down the hangar bay floor, passing by the fighter bays and freighter docks on his right in search of a hyperspace-capable courier ship that he could take for his journey to the planet where the Soulsaber awaited. On the left he occasionally passed passageways leading back into the interior of the temple, filled with the scuffle and clack of heeled boots on the marble floor. Just as he reached the hangar he was looking for, from one of the hallways he heard someone call his name.

It was an old friend from his Padawan days, although he wasn’t used to seeing her in such traditional Jedi robes. His face lit up with a smile that was becoming as rare as it was for him to see a friendly face.

“Shinra! I haven’t seen you in ages. How are you? Have you managed to find a trace of Vera yet?”

“I’m doing quite well myself, but we haven’t had any success finding her. After the incident at the academy’s graduation, it was like she vanished into thin air. The elders sent me to Coruscant to aid the Order here, as a gesture of good will to the Council. From what I hear though, you and T’jace have things pretty well covered as far as the war is concerned.”

“That’s mighty generous of them, considering that the Council has been shunning the Rivenbloods for years now. I appreciate your confidence in me, but I can’t be everywhere. We’ll need every good fighter we can get if we want to prevent the Sith from taking the Core, so don’t get too settled in.”

“I’ve already been in an engagement, actually.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, I took part in the Corellian campaign. It was a pretty covert operation, though.”

“I wish I could have been there, it was a pretty good scrap. As it was, T’jace barely managed to pull it out. That’s what happens when our team gets broken up.” His face became angry.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Don’t worry about it too much,” he replied. “Just some politicking by the mages that might split up the team for good.”

An awkward silence followed, as Shinra tried to understand what he meant, but was too afraid to ask.


“Hold down the fort until I get back,” he said finally, turning to walk to his ship. Shinra reached out a hand toward his departing figure, but then withdrew it, knowing that it was useless to talk to him once he got into one of his moods.

 

You have some great lines in your work! I've really liked this one:
That is why he is master, and I am not. There are few powers to match that of a silver tongue.
I really love creative idioms grounded in swff vernacular. This is a great line too:
“Thank you, Master,” said Miko, “but I get the feeling I’ve been snatched from the burner and thrown into the reactor chamber.”

Lastly you have some great names - Soulsaber, Curu'thas, Nidaiman Genabarii. Idk - I'm a sucker for names that feel and flow - onomatopoeia for the personality. Keep it up - I'm excited to see if Miko turns to the dark side and if Curu'thas gets his soulsaber!

 

VII​

Genabarii had caved easily, as Curu’thas had known he would. The mage’s hunger for knowledge and power were insatiable, and it was a wonder and a testament to Jedi strictness that he had not sought to more fully satisfy that hunger long ago. If only all Jedi were so easily manipulated, the Core would have been his years ago.

Since he doubted that this same trick would work twice, he would have to find another way to deal with the next obstacle to his plan. Unfortunately, that happened to be the Jedi that Curu’thas held in highest respect, whose knowledge, power, relentlessness, and will were the match of any Sith. It is a good thing my new apprentice is not just any Sith. Now. There was an interesting thought. It was interesting how the dark looked after its own, providing not only strength and vision, but inspiration as well. Excellent. Not only would luring Magnus offworld serve as well as killing him himself, but it would also allow his young apprentice to explore his new powers.

Curu’thas summoned Genabarii as he would a dog, only his call was through the Force rather than any high-pitched sonic devices.

Soon the mage appeared in the quarters Curu’thas had taken up residence in. It was evident that he had hurried, eager to please his master.

“Master Genabarii, I need you to take a message to your former superior, Master Magnus. Tell him that you have discovered that his new charge, Miko Arrano, has fled Coruscant, and that I regret that I may have inadvertently encouraged him with tales of the Soulsaber.” He handed over a data crystal. “Give this to him. It has the same coordinates that our brash young thief stole from me, under the influence of a Sith Deathshroud that you in your diligence have recently uncovered.”

“Yes, my lord,” said Nidaiman instinctively, before departing with his message.

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T’jace woke up. He remembered rain and thunder, then an all-consuming light. And him.

A young healer came into view. “Ah, T’jace. You’re awake, this is good.” How does she know me? Wait, I think I remember her. Border…? Something like that. Don’t tell me I’ve forgotten another one. Yet from the familiar tone she used, it seemed it was so. If only the fog in his head would go away.

“Um… right. What happened?”

“It was a, how you say, a sparring accident. Jedi Arrano got a bit carried away.”

“Yeah, he does that. And after?”

“You have been out cold for a couple of days.” She shrugged. “This time he went too far, so the council has reassigned him to Master Magnus for disciplinary measures.”

He won’t take that well. Not at all. T’jace rose, mind suddenly clear.

The healer protested. “You cannot leave yet. A few more days are required to ensure a full recovery, and to check for signs of concussion, memory lapse, or other brain damage.”

“My head works just fine, Giselle Bordeaux,” he replied. “I don’t have time to wait around in a bed when my friend is in trouble.” He grabbed his lightsaber and his robe, then turned to leave.

Giselle grabbed his arm. “You do remember me.” A hurt expression was on her face. “Why did you leave?”

“Of course. I never forget a face,” said T’jace, trying to ignore the issue. “Now, Padawan Bordeaux, are you going to move or not?”

There was a pause. “It’s Knight now, actually. But I’m not going to stand here while you walk over me,” she said. “But if you find yourself in here again, don’t expect me to tend to you, you ungrateful louse!”

<\/>​

Magnus felt a familiar presence just before it entered his meditation chamber. “Master!” exclaimed Genabarii, bursting into the room in an unseemly fashion.

Magnus frowned. “What is it?” He had felt anger, contempt, anxiety, and all manner of emotions from his subordinate before. But never this: never fear. “What has gotten into you, man?”

“It’s Arrano! We tried to stop him, but he’s gone mad! He’s going to create the Soulsaber!”

Suddenly Magnus understood all too well the reason for Genabarii’s terror. Their sect practiced many arts that some said skirted too close to the dark side, but there were some that even they dared not attempt. The artifact known as the Soulsaber was one such. It was said that using one would grant the user overwhelming power, the least manifestation of which was the ability to break a lightsaber with a blow. But the power came with a price, for it was said that the trinket would claim your soul. There was no such thing as a soul of course, mere primitive superstition, but the Soulsaber’s effects were fearsome all the same. Magnus was probably the only Jedi alive who had encountered one, and that had been but an unfinished copy. He was also the only one qualified to deal with this crisis.

He reached a decision. “Genabarii, you have command while I am away.” He was already contacting Flight Control to learn of the foolish young Jedi’s destination.

The Unknown Regions? That will make my search more difficult. But he is mine now, and so I must be the one to retrieve him.

<\/>​

Arrano’s departure, followed by the high mage’s, had caused quite a stir. The normally serene and contemplative chambers of the Jedi High Council were filled with echoes of discord. Such was the chaos that they did not perceive the dark figure on their very threshold.

One of the unsuspecting lambs stormed out of the hall and stopped with a start. “Oh, Master Curu’thas. You’ll have to come back lat—

He was interrupted as red blades carved furrows down his chest.

“No, not Curu’thas. Darth Krathias.”

<\/>​

The clouds break in a clash of thunder, as lightnings strike the ground on the planet of light.


And dark rain falls.

 

Well, that's the end of this story. It was only supposed to be a prologue to a longer story, which I hope to write in the near future. Thanks again for reading!

 

Just the prologue, wow, Let me know when you post the rest of the story too please.