Before - Legends Star Wars: Prodigal

Hey guys! I wrote this a while ago and I want to see what you guys think, so here we go!

Chapter One

4160 B.B.Y

Cobra moved with a straight, even flow, his feet propelling from the ground as another vibro blade swung below him. Shirtless, and jumping and somersaulting through the air with a black, simple pair of leggings, Cobra was breezing through his training exercises in the Sith academy on Zenga near the legendary planet of Korriban. As his feet landed once again, his hand shot up and began curling into a fist at another incoming vibroblade that was coming for his chest in a direct path. He could hear the blade pop and crumple before him, and then finally stop. The lights in the large room were out, and there were no windows, so he couldn’t see a thing. He relied on the Force to show him where the vibroblades were. He was also trying very hard to listen, hearing the deadly whirring of the blades as they headed for him in all directions, toward almost every part of his body.
Cobra had been taught that in order to use the Force well, he must see what cannot be seen, to be able to rely on the Force to tell him where things were instead of the naked eye. In this exercise, he had been stripped of his lightsaber, in order to practice his use of the Force without anything else. Sweat dripped down his forehead and ran down his neck as he continued his exercise in uninterrupted movement; constantly jumping, flipping, ducking, and rolling from the incoming death.
Finally, he noticed that the noise of the vibroblades had died down to absolute silence. The room was absolutely quiet now except for Cobra’s heavy breathing. His throat felt terribly dry and his black hair was a wet mass over his head.
“Master?” He called out in between his heavy breathing. Light finally poured into the room and stung his eyes. He had gotten very much used to the dark, that the new light blinded his eyes. He looked around him as the vibroblades retreated into holes in the walls, which sealed themselves up, then looked up at the balcony, which overlooked the large room. There stood his teacher Darth Fissure, whom he could barely look upon. His presence caused horrible shivers up Cobra’s spine whenever he looked into his Master’s eyes, which blazed a terrifying, yellow color that all Sith were familiar with. He wore a black robe, and his hood shadowed his eyes, making them look much more foreboding to him.
“Well done, my apprentice, flawless movement, good timing, I sensed much power from you in the Force,” Darth Fissure complimented. Though they were encouraging compliments, his voice had such a terrifying aura that caused Cobra to only feel worse, like he wanted to crash to his knees and bow his head to him. Getting down on his knees, he did just that. He bowed his head so low, it just about touched the floor.
“Thank you, my Master,” Cobra said in a low tone.
“Rise,” Fissure commanded. Again, his voice had such a dark, terrifying sensation, that Cobra’s knees felt glued to the floor. But, not wanting to anger his master, he rose, but kept his head low.
“Look at me, boy,” Fissure snapped. Reluctantly, Cobra lifted his head to stare at Fissure’s scarred face.
“In the Force, I could feel your passion to succeed, to do whatever it takes to finish your exercises, and what does passion gain for you?” Fissure asked. This wasn’t a trick question. Cobra knew that he was asking him to recite part of the code.
“Through passion, I gain strength,” Cobra answered.
“And through strength, you gain power…” Fissure recited.
“Through power, I gain victory,” Cobra finished, his hands clenching into fists as he imagined the power that he had represented during his exercise.
“And through victory, your chains are broken, and so shall they be, tomorrow,” Fissure said, the pride showing in his voice. Cobra’s eyes snapped open, and he looked up at his master, despite the fact that looking at him felt like a lightsaber stabbing through his forehead.
“Tomorrow, Master?” He asked, anxiety rising in his voice. Fissure nodded.
“Tomorrow, you will face one of our greatest swordsmen, and if you follow through with what our Code teaches you, you will become a Master.”

“You look like you could gauge the eyes out of a rancor,” Butch complimented as he and Cobra walked down a hallway in the academy. Butch, a young Twi’lek from Ryloth, wore a dark red cloak. His two lightsabers dangled from his silver belt.
“Like me, you’ll make it, in time, we will both me Masters,” Cobra encouraged. Unless they were doing private training sessions with the Masters, Cobra and Butch were always together, challenging each other and scouting the area outside. The two of them had vowed that one day, they would kill their first Jedi together. The Jedi were the so-called guardians of peace and justice, sworn to aid the Republic. Cobra had always scoffed at this. The Republic was weak, a large group of different species sitting and rotting on Coruscant. Coruscant was a planet the Sith plotted to take, soon enough, and Cobra’s dream was to be part of the army that would invade the Jedi Temple and rid it of the Jedi. Yes, there were more havens across the galaxy where the large numbers of Jedi dwelt, but the Temple on Coruscant was a good start. It was a place where the Sith could collect information that could damage the Jedi Order within.
“…And you know you want to,” Butch finished. Cobra’s head shot up to face his friend.
“Hmm?” Butch rolled his eyes.
“You were daydreaming again, weren’t you?” He asked. Cobra smiled.
“I’m sure all of us are daydreaming these days,” he pointed out. Butch frowned.
“So I know I want to what?” Cobra asked. Butch grinned, and gestured to his lightsabers. Cobra smiled back, realizing what it was he meant.
“Outside.”

Outside in the muddy, grassy terrain, Cobra reached for the lightsaber clipped to his belt. The metal hilt felt cool amongst the muggy heat. Pressing the button on the hilt, a scarlet blade exploded from it, the all-too-familiar hum shattered the silence in the open field. He posed himself, and watched Butch unclip his two lightsabers and do the same thing. Without a hint of warning, Butch lashed out. His blades interlocked with Cobra’s single one. The move was quick and well-timed, but Cobra had still been able to flick his blade upward to deflect the move. Drawing upon the Force now to guide him through, Cobra assaulted his friend with several swings, all them successfully parried. The two began to break into a dance now, parry after parry, strike after strike. During the fight, Cobra had managed to cut his blade across Butch’s sleeve, tearing the tough fabric of his robe.
As a Sith student, Cobra had learned everything from a Sith’s point of view. The things he studied in the academy’s library was based on ancient writings of Sith Lords. Technology was only used if it was absolutely necessary. There was of course, the lightsaber, which was created artificially, and then of course, there were ships. Cobra had heard that there was other Sith tribes that relied on technology more than they on Zenga did. Technology was, however, studied so that they would have to use it if the need arose.
As a Sith student, Cobra desired to learn the ways of an assassin. Someone who could sneak up on a Jedi and try to take him. Most of the other students in the academy had commented that Cobra was good at coming in without them realizing it, as if Cobra was a shroud in the Force. Nobody would sense him coming, and the dark side within him was hidden from everyone unless Cobra felt like revealing that power.
“You got me there,” Butch admitted, fingering his torn sleeve. Cobra grinned, and deactivated his lightsaber, clipping it back onto his belt. Butch didn’t smile however.
“Do you really think you’re ready?” He asked. Cobra frowned, feeling puzzled.
“What do you mean?”
“You grin, you savor this moment as if it’s a game, where is your anger, your hate?” Butch asked. Cobra shook his head.
“Butch, I don’t hate you,” he admitted.
“Why not?”
“You’re my friend, we grew up in this academy together,” Cobra said. Butch shook his head.
“Remember your place, young one, our hate and anger is what feeds us, gives us power, strengthens us in the Force,” he explained.
“Do not call me ‘young one’! I will become more powerful than any of you!” Cobra screamed. It was hard to tell whether he really meant to do it or not, but before he could stop himself, his hand shot up, and he watched Butch fly backwards from an invisible force, which Cobra didn’t need to be reminded about that he had Force-pushed his friend. He watched Butch land a few feet away from him, stunned by the sudden move. Running over to Butcher, he looked down at his face, which just looked calm, but a fire danced in his eyes.
“As much as I hate to admit it, I still have much to learn,” Cobra admitted. Butch shook his head.

“You do not have the makings of a Sith,” he said.

 

Was this a one-shot or is there more to come? Either way, I like what you've done here!

 

There's more to come! Follow this thread and I'll post more. I wanted to see if anybody would reply to this before posting more because I wanted to know if anyone was interested first.

 

Chapter Two

Today was the day. The day that Cobra would prove to Darth Fissure and the rest of the blade masters and students that he was indeed ready, and that he did have the makings of a Sith warrior.
I will show you Butch, I will show you all.
He stared up at the balcony overlooking the large arena. His lightsaber was already in his hand, activated.
“Cobra,” the sharp voice of Darth Fissure said. Cobra did not look at his teacher, but he answered.
“Yes, Master?” He asked.
“Your lightsaber.”
“What?”
“Shut it off.” Humiliated, Cobra deactivated his lightsaber and clipped it back onto his belt.
“Through passion…” Fissure started. Cobra knew exactly what he wanted.
“I gain strength.”
“Through strength…”
“I gain power.”
“Through power…”
“I gain victory.”
“Through victory…”
“My chains are broken,” Cobra finished, feeling proud of himself for remembering the ancient Code.
“The Force shall free me. Excellent, now you will face your opponent,” Fissure declared. Cobra felt his hands clench into fists in determination, ready to face off against his opponent and claim his freedom as a Master. A door in the corner of the arena slid open, revealing a warrior completely in body armor from head to toe. His helmet was a coal black color with a dark T-visor that hid the opponent’s eyes. Cobra knew that it was appropriate now to activate his lightsaber. If this opponent was really a good swordsman, he would be ready for a quick, early start. Allowing the Force to bring his lightsaber to his gloved hand, he pressed the button, the scarlet blade exploding from the hilt, bringing a loud hum into the quiet room. The armored opponent was paying attention to him now, but even with Cobra in a pose that was ready to lash out, the warrior seemed strangely reluctant, as if he was reconsidering this.
“What’s the matter? Afraid to lose your reputation as a true Lord of the Sith?” Cobra sneered, leveling his blade at the opponent’s neck. The opponent still stood there, unmoving, and Cobra was growing more and more impatient fast.
“Fine, be the coward that you are,” he said, then, he launched himself at the opponent, his red blade angled over his head, ready to slash this warrior down. The armored opponent did not make a move, until the tip of Cobra’s blade was just inches from his head, and Cobra heard the familiar sound of a lightsaber exploding into action, and clashing with his own blade. Cobra was on his feet now. His smile widened. Finally, a challenge.
Cobra aimed for certain parts of the opponent’s body, first going for the legs, the throat, even trying to swing for the neck to behead this mysterious warrior. The warrior, who was starting to move quicker now, parried all of these moves. One interesting thing that Cobra had noticed was that this warrior was almost as short as him. He had heard that some Sith students were such good swordsmen, that they were allowed as challenges for students that were getting closer to moving up a rank, but Cobra was hoping that he would’ve been able to face up against a real Sith Master, perhaps even Fissure himself.
No. Facing off with Darth Fissure would’ve been a disaster. He knew he would’ve lost. Concentrating completely on the duel now, allowing the Force to flow through him, he pressed his attacks, allowing his lightsaber to swing so that it was almost reckless now, and out of form. A clean form was what the Jedi relied on because they allowed the Force to control their actions, instead of relying on hate and anger. Anger and hate was what won the battle quicker, and when he focused on these morbid feelings, he felt so much power growing within him as he connected with his hatred. Everything that he had been taught never told him that drawing on the Force so that he could use it limitlessly was a bad thing. This made Cobra smile again as he fought his opponent across the arena. His feet had begun leaving the ground more often now, as he spun in the air, aiming his foot at the opponent’s chest, and delivering several successful kicks. He planned to get his opponent close enough to the wall as possible. Thrusting up his hand that wasn’t holding his lightsaber, he had hoped to push the warrior away using the Force, but he realized that the opponent had done the same thing. Both of them had their hands raised at each other, driving themselves deeper and deeper into the Force to push the other away.
Cobra found himself helplessly flying across the open arena, and realized in horror that he had dropped his lightsaber. He crashed against the wall, and landed on his feet, his hands pressed down on the ground. The warrior had also been flung back from the push, and he had his eyes on Cobra’s lightsaber.
Oh no you don’t. Cobra reached out, calling upon the Force to summon his lightsaber back into his hand. Activating it again, he stood up and twirled the weapon, allowing it to pass from one hand to the other, and then, he jumped, his blade aimed downward at the warrior who was running up with his own blade. With one swift move, he threw his lightsaber in the warrior’s direction. The warrior thrust his hand up, and Cobra’s lightsaber flew and slapped into his hand, both blades humming now in his grips. But Cobra was not the least bit concerned. Landing on his feet in front of the warrior, he thought back to his practices yesterday, how he did not use his lightsaber to overcome the obstacles. He had relied completely on the Force to guide him, and he was going to do that again.
Reaching his hand out toward the warrior, he curved his hand into a motion as if he was grasping someone’s neck and gripping it harder and harder. The warrior began to cough, showing signs as if he was being strangled. His hands desperately moved to his throat, dropping the lightsabers in the process, trying so hard to break free from this invisible grip. Cobra grinned, showing all his teeth, his hand gripping harder and harder now. But wait! It couldn’t just end there. Releasing the grip, he Force-pushed the warrior into the wall so hard, he could hear a cracking sound on the wall behind the opponent. He pulled his hand towards him, dragging the opponent with him, then pushed again, sending him against the wall again. He then let go, watching in triumph as the warrior crumpled to the ground, unleashing a series of cracked coughing that got more and more violent.
“I did it,” Cobra realized aloud. Striding up towards the writhing body, he bent down and removed the helmet of his opponent. When he saw the warrior’s real face, his jaw dropped, as well as the helmet from his hands.
“What? How…how could this be?” Cobra demanded, as he looked at the face of his friend, Butch. The blue Twi’lek stared up at him with astonishing eyes that seemed to dig into Cobra’s skull. Blood trickled from Butch’s mouth and dribbled down his sweaty neck.
“It’s too late…” Butch groaned.
“No, no!” Cobra exclaimed. He looked into Butch’s dying eyes, until they saw no more. He felt shattered now, completely grieved and at a terrible loss for words, or how he felt. He had been pitted against his friend and was forced to kill him. What was worse was that Darth Fissure had probably told Butch to put the armor on so that Cobra wouldn’t recognize him, because if he knew it was Butch, he wouldn’t have fought him. He stared up at the balcony, where Fissure still stood, watching attentively. A terrible smile occupied his face. He was enjoying this.
“Now you have learned a very important lesson. The Sith do not trust anyone, and they do not carry friendships. Attachment is unthinkable,” he explained. Cobra’s hands balled into fists, he felt his face burn in anger, terrible anger. He saw the Sith Lord’s eyes close, his face looked contented and pleased.
“Yes, yes, I could feel your anger, it makes you powerful. You will make a good Sith warrior, but you are still merely a Sith student, and will be, for a little while longer,” Fissure said. Cobra allowed all of the hatred bottled up inside him to spill out in the form of a scream. Summoning his lightsaber and Butch’s to him through the Force, he activated them both and jumped towards the Sith teacher. As his feet landed onto the balcony, he saw Darth Fissure stand back, but he didn’t make a move to defend himself.

“What’s wrong, old man? I was hoping you would be the challenge,” Cobra sneered. Fissure smiled, but still didn’t move. Wasting no more time, Cobra advanced at him with the lightsabers raised, and felt a terrible shock of energy crash into him. He realized that the Sith Lord had used Force lightning on him, the force of the electric energy sent him flying off the balcony, across the arena, and crashing through the only window at the other side of the room. Cobra felt himself hopelessly falling. He was outside in the sun now, and he could only see the sky above him. Quickly calling upon the Force, he allowed his fall to slow down, and gently hit the ground. Without a moment’s hesitation, he staggered up, realizing thankfully that he hadn’t let go of the lightsabers when he was sent flying. He clipped them both to his belt, and ran off into the forest close by. He knew exactly where to go.

 

Chapter Three

I’ve got a bad feeling about this.
Jedi Master Zora Zora always seemed to have a bad feeling, which twisted and squirmed in his stomach. Unease crept up his spine, and he was feeling very nervous now as he stood facing the thugs in the cantina that surrounded him. He had saved the poor man that was being harassed by them, and these thugs were willing to destroy Zora as payback, Jedi or not. His lightsaber was still clipped to his belt, and he made no motion to reach for it, allowing the Force to guide him through this situation. The bartender at the counter watched on, unsure of what to do, whether he should call security or wait and see what the Jedi was going to do.
“Jedi scum,” one of the thugs spat out, as he raised his fists, ready for a fight. Zora smiled and jabbed his finger upward into the air, and the thug flew up with the motion, and, through the Force, Zora was able to send the thug crashing into the other two, and they skidded across the floor and hit the legs of one of the tables. The others watching cheered and clapped at the performance. Zora saluted, then walked out, feeling he had had just enough action for the day. The planet Doro was a rough planet. It reminded Zora very much of Tattoine, except the scum here weren’t as wretched. It was a planet mostly for bounty hunters and mercenaries, a place they went to search for job opportunities. On a planet that was so close to Sith havens such as Zenga and Korriban, mercenaries were guaranteed to get hired by the Sith and earn a great deal of money.
Things had been lonely for Zora for seven years now ever since he had lost his Padawan. During a battle with several Sith, Zora’s Padawan had gone missing, and the Jedi Council on Coruscant had insisted that Zora let it go, that he must not allow attachment to get the best of him.

Thinking about Butch again almost made Cobra weep while he flew. He was surprised that he was able to steal a ship and get off-planet so easily. During his years on Zenga, he had been taught by Butch all the necessary things to pilot a ship. Thanks to his research in the library back at the academy, he knew the different planets closest to Zenga, and the best one was Doro. A very lowly planet that was like an entire tourist site for mercenaries. He could use his…special power to hide his identity from most people, even if there were Jedi on the planet, he was confident that he could walk around unnoticed. Keeping his lightsaber hidden under his robe, he landed the ship on a docking bay near a spaceport. He grimaced as he watched dozens of different mercenaries and other scum crossing the streets, jeering and cursing at each other as they passed by each other.
Deciding to give this a try, Cobra shut the ship’s systems down and exited the ship, walking down the landing ramp and showing his lightsaber to the guards at the entrance to the spaceport.

In less than a few minutes, Cobra had managed to steal a handful of credits and a traveler’s cloak without anybody noticing in order to blend in. Wearing the cloak now, with his lightsaber hidden in his sleeve, he walked toward the cantina across the street. He almost gasped when he saw a Jedi standing close by the door. He had long brown hair that trailed down to the middle of his back, and he had a cleanly shaven face. His brown Jedi robe fluttered in the cool breeze. This Jedi looked young, yet his eyes illustrated immense wisdom that only older Jedi would have. Then of course, there was the lightsaber clipped to his belt, which was the thing that gave the man’s identity away. The Jedi seemed to sense that he was looking at him, because he was looking straight back at him. Growing nervous, Cobra stayed where he was, not daring to take another step. Could this Jedi already sense the dark side within him? For a minute, it made him feel ashamed. But the Jedi didn’t go for his lightsaber or show any sign that he knew what he was. Instead, he actually smiled, and motioned for him to come.

Zora watched the young man in the tan cloak cautiously approach him, very curious as to who he was. As soon as he had lain eyes on the boy, there seemed to be a sharp ripple through the Force, almost like a disturbance, but it didn’t feel like one that was of danger, but rather, it was as if the Force had been leading him right here, and this was finally a moment that, for some reason, he felt like he was waiting for.
“Young man, what are you doing out here? You don’t look like the sort to be a bounty hunter,” he commented. The boy shivered, but then immediately stopped.
“I’m sorry sir, I ran away from home, those Sith destroyed my family,” he complained, looking down at the ground. Already, Zora was beginning to feel sympathy for the boy.
“What is your name?” He asked. The boy didn’t answer for a while, but then finally spoke up.
“Chris,” the boy answered. Zora didn’t reply to this. Instead, he shut his eyes and sunk deep into the Force, trying to grasp if this child was telling the truth. This all seemed strange to him somehow, like he was unsure of trusting this young man, but it seemed the Force was urging him to go along with it for the time being. He had lost count as to how many times the Jedi encouraged each other to ‘trust in the Force’ and allow its will to take shape. He believed the Force had placed this boy in his path, now it was time to play along.
“Your family is dead?” Zora asked.
“Yes sir,” Chris answered.
“Where did you live?”
“In a home not far from this spaceport. I fled here.”
“How long ago was that?”
“Three months ago, sir.” Zora nodded. Then that explained why he didn’t sense any Sith when he was here. The Jedi on Coruscant had discovered the unique ability in him to be able to sense things through the Force far and wide. He would’ve known if there were Sith on this planet.

“Follow me, Chris.”