Saga - Legends The Dark Fire Chronicles (AU OT - Luke, Leia, Vader, Han, Mara, OCs and more)

Title: The Dark Fire Chronicles
Author: Viari Skywalker
Timeframe: OT
Characters: Leia, Luke, Vader, Mara, Han, Palpatine, OCs and various other canon and EU characters
Genre: AU, drama, adventure, angst, action, romance
Summary:

Nineteen years after the fall of the Jedi, the outcome of one battle will affect the fate of the galaxy. Living a life that should never have been, Darth Vader trains the next Sith apprentice in the shadow of the Imperial Palace. As she grows stronger, Princess Leia feels the stirrings of rebellion in her heart, while her twin brother, Prince Luke, searches for the truth about their past. Pulled into conflict by hatred and pride, Leia finds herself allied with smugglers, Rebels, and a farm boy as they race to disable a weapon built for annihilation.

Watched by the Emperor’s faithful servants, Luke must find a way to help his sister before it is too late. A friend and a mysterious assassin stand in his way, as well as the father he once trusted, and the Imperial Prince must utilize his knowledge of the past if he is to succeed. Tempted at every turn, he struggles to reach his sister before the Emperor destroys her.

And while his children get caught up in the middle of the Galactic Civil War, a man once known as Anakin Skywalker must choose his destiny…


Enjoy!

***


Author's Note, 6/26/2024: I finally went back through and fixed the truncation, and cross-referenced the wayback machine to restore my dorky end notes on as many of the chapters as I could, as well as some longer comments/replies. Unfortunately, I never was able to sort through the long-ago plot/character issues that derailed my progress on this story, and eventually my interests shifted to other projects. I might eventually post various odds and ends, including story notes and scene fragments, just to give some sense of closure to this thread, but in all likelihood, The Dark Fire Chronicles itself will remain incomplete. I was sixteen years old when I started writing this story and twenty-three the last time I posted an update, and it definitely shows... but Part One was also the first novel-length story I ever completed, and this entire unfinished, unpolished epic will always hold a special place in my heart. So if you're reading for the first time, I hope you enjoy it for what it is: a time capsule of JC Star Wars fanfic as it existed in the 2000s, and indisputable proof that I've been an angstmonger from the very beginning.


***

 

The Dark Fire Chronicles
Part One: Ember and Shade

***
Prologue


He should have crawled from the pit.

In his most horrendous of nightmares, he saw himself sliding toward the molten lava, his body burning away into almost nothing. The terrifying revelation that he should have been nearly consumed, only to survive as a half man. His transformation should have been complete.

Then he would wake and remember that he had never fallen to the flames.


***
0 BBY


Javan Madai stared across the black table, his body perfectly still. I’m as much a diplomat as anyone in here. The young man fought the urge to tap his fingers on the smooth table, a nervous habit he’d acquired sometime in the past. With practiced patience, he allowed his gaze to travel around the table and analyze each of the twelve men seated. The members of Javan’s delegation sat with an air of quiet anticipation, even fear. The bureaucrats opposite Javan were for the most part a group of pudgy, balding men. I’m more a diplomat than any of these hypocrites. Each of them had the look of someone confident in their ability to succeed simply because they considered themselves leaders. Javan scanned the Imperial delegates. His eyes stopped on the two members who contrasted with the rest of the group.

Make that eleven men and one woman.

A head shorter than the smallest man in the room, the girl across from Javan was barely nineteen. Her long, dark hair was braided and laced with fine silver bands, her big brown eyes keenly perceptive of the atmosphere of the entire room. Her petite frame was clothed in an elegant blue dress made from the finest silks money could buy. She dripped with majesty and influence, a rare accomplishment for one so young. But maybe it wasn’t so surprising considering who she was seated next to.

“Senator Organa, the Emperor knows of several Rebel cells operating on your planet.” The Sith Lord on the girl’s left side always knew how to get to the point. Javan had to give him that much credit.

Senator Bail Organa returned the Sith’s stare. “Lord Vader, I wish I could be of more help, but I do not have contact with these supposed Rebel cells. If they exist, we on Alderaan have not experienced problems with any of them.”

Darth Vader also differed in appearance from the rest of the Imperials. Clothed in black robes and a billowing cloak, he was an intimidating figure, unlike the pompous politicians accompanying him. For the past two decades, the Sith had hid his face beneath the voluminous hood of his famous dark cloak, but on rare occasions he let his face show. This meeting was one of those occasions. Vader’s expression was colder than that of a lifeless stone statue. Javan imagined that it would be easier to face the Sith if he wore a mask of some kind or kept his face hooded. At least he wouldn’t have to watch the handsome, cruel face grow darker with suppressed fury. Somehow a Sith’s anger was much worse than anyone else’s.

“Organa, I grow tired of your games. One day you’ll be sorry that you housed these traitors.” Vader’s dark blue eyes flashed icily. “When that day comes, do not expect clemency. You will be shown none.”

Javan twitched uncomfortably. He admired the senator for his courage in facing the Sith and his Imperials, but the young Alderaanian feared that even Bail was losing influence in the Senate.

Of course, no one had much influence in the Senate anymore. Not unless their name was Palpatine.

“I will always give help to those who ask for it,” Senator Organa replied calmly. Javan could hear the unspoken words: “including Rebels.” He guessed that Vader had picked up on the hint as well.

“Very well,” the Sith growled. “We have no further business here.” He motioned for the Imperial bureaucrats to rise. Extending one arm, he turned to the girl at his side. “Come, Leia.” She glanced at Senator Organa, not without compassion, then took the Sith’s arm and followed him out of the room, leaving the Alderaanians in cold silence.

Javan looked down at his hands, then turned to face Bail. “Cousin, I do not think—”

“Please, Javan,” the senator interrupted gently. “What was said cannot be undone.” He rested one hand on his young cousin’s shoulder. “Let us return home.”

***
Chapter One: Separate Strands


Concentration, the Imperial Prince thought reluctantly, is the key to mastery. He dropped low to the ground, narrowly avoiding a sharp kick from his opponent.

Or something like that.

“You’re not keeping your focus.” The red-haired girl standing over him frowned. She held herself in a fighting stance, her entire body coiled. The prince sighed.

“I can’t think straight today.” He slowly relaxed his muscles, wiping his sweaty brow.

The girl’s green eyes flashed. “You’re not supposed to think. You’re supposed to feel.”

Sixteen-years-old and she thought she knew everything. Why did he have to train with her anyway? “Mara, don’t lecture me.” He reached for a dark cloak lying on the floor and began to fasten it around his neck. He didn’t need to give her an excuse. If his visions were bothering him again, it was certainly none of her business. “I’ve had enough for today.”

Mara Jade was indignant. “Luke, you can’t quit now! We still have another hour!” She put her hands on her hips and attempted to stare him into submission.

Luke was too old for silly pouts. But he had the feeling that if he didn’t finish the session, he’d get an earful later. And not from Mara.

That’s what I get for being the son of a Sith Lord.

“You don’t have to spend every waking moment in training, you know,” he mumbled as he set his cloak back on the floor. He felt her annoyance increase.

“It’s an honor to—”

“I know, I know.” Luke rolled his clear blue eyes. “It’s an honor to serve the Emperor.” And to train every second of the day in order to become his personal slave and assassin. “Shall we continue?” He readied himself in the usual fighting style, reaching for the invisible energy field that made him and his family so special.

Mara allowed a quick grin to flash across her otherwise cool face. “Whatever you say, Your Highness.” With lightning speed, she pounced.

***

The bar was hot, noisy, and crowded – everything a bar should be. But that did not make Aari Zalash like the place any more than she already did, which was not at all. Most of her jobs sent her to wormholes like these, though, so she continued to go.

It would have helped if every male in the cantina would just leave her alone, she thought to herself. A particularly drunk and dirty humanoid slumped into the seat next to her, licking his wet lips and staring her up and down. Before he could even move his mouth to speak, Aari had a blaster pressed against his bulging stomach. “Get lost,” she hissed. The man got up as quickly as his drunken stupor would allow. Muttering unintelligibly under his breath, he stalked off to another corner of the room.

Aari shook her head, placing her blaster carefully in its holster. When would these guys ever learn? Did they think she came to filthy cantinas hoping to pick up the first intoxicated ruffian she could find? It was the drink, she reminded herself. Which was why she never drank in these bars. Ordering a drink was fine, so as not to seem suspicious, but actually consuming it was another story. She prided herself in always having her wits about her.

Where is that no good thief?

He was late, as usual. And he probably wouldn’t be able to pay her in full, yet again. Aari sighed. So much for a job. She wondered why she kept returning to the stupid creep. Why didn’t I just stay on Corellia with the rest of the street urchins? At least I wouldn’t be in this awful place. If that damn thief didn’t arrive soon…

“Hey there, beautiful.”

Aari reached for her blaster instinctively and grabbed someone’s hand instead. She shook it off and looked up into a pair of cloudy gray eyes. “Don’t do that again,” she growled.

The young man raised one dark eyebrow. “You know I will.” He settled himself in the booth next to her. “Been waiting long?” He met Aari’s smoldering gaze. “Never mind.”

“Give me back my blaster,” Aari commanded. The man reluctantly handed her the weapon. “And now tell me why you always send me to these hellholes to wait for you. It’s getting very old very fast.”

The young man chuckled softly. “All in good fun, my dear Aari. It’s rather entertaining, watching you send those slimeballs packing.”

“You act like you’re better than them.” Aari glowered.

“Well of course I am.” He smiled cockily. “I’m sitting here next to you without a blaster slammed into my side, aren’t I?”

“That can be arranged.”

“Come now, Aari. Is that any way to speak to the man who has provided you with every smuggling job you’ve taken over the past three years?” He feigned an expression of insulted pride.

“You are the most irritating man I’ve ever met.” Aari kept her face impassive, her voice as hostile as she could manage.

“What else would you expect from Vic Phancil?” He smiled again, revealing two rows of perfectly straight white teeth. “My sole purpose in life is to annoy you.” He paused for a moment. “And to get stacks of credits, but that’s beside the point.” He absently played with the cuff of his jacket sleeve.

Aari sighed again. Vic was impossible, to say the least. “What’s the job this time?”

“One of those Hutt crime lords wants a shipment of spice. He’s still looking for a regular ship and captain, after he had to get rid of the last one.”

“You know I never take permanent jobs, Vic.”

“I know, Aari. But you might like this one. Jabba the Hutt pays well.”

“If he pays at all, unlike someone I know.” This time it was Aari’s turn to raise her eyebrow in scrutiny. “I believe I’m still waiting for full payment from the last shipment.”

“Hey! Can I help it if I’m a lousy middleman?”

“Maybe I should deal with these goons personally.”

Vic’s expression shifted to one of concern. “No, I wouldn’t do that. Aari, these guys are criminals—”

“So am I, technically.”

“I don’t mean just breaking the law. Crime lords like these don’t have a conscience. If you screw up, they won’t think twice about bumping you off. At least with me as a mediator, you don’t have to worry about it. I thought you would have figured that out by now.” Vic ran a hand across the back of his neck.

Aari stared at him silently for a moment before speaking. “Well, I still want my money.”

“You’ll get it.”

“I’d better.” Aari picked up her full glass of whatever it was and swirled it around, watching the crimson liquid splash against the sides. “So what do I need to do?”

Vic grinned. “That’s my girl.” Aari shot him a murderous look. “You can pick up the shipment in the space lanes over Rodia. You don’t even need to go planetside. Sound good?”

“Sounds suspicious.”

“Everything sounds suspicious to you.”

“Everything usually is. Where is the spice coming from?”

“Kessel, where else?”

Aari rested her head in her palms. “The Imps won’t be happy.”

“When have the Imps ever been happy?” Vic picked up Aari’s drink and took a sip. “Not bad. You should try it.”

“Maybe some other time,” Aari replied indifferently. “Next you’ll be asking me to make the Kessel Run itself.”

“If you feel up to it. I heard Solo made the run in less than twelve parsecs.”

“In that ship of his? It’s a flying hazard, Vic. I’ll believe it when I see it.” The young smuggler made sure her holster was secure as she prepared to get up. “So I’m picking this spice up when?”

“As soon as you can get there. They’ll be waiting for a few days. You’ll have time.”

“I should, considering we’re on Bothawui.” The young woman settled back into her seat, waiting to see if her middleman had anything else to tell her. “I never thought I’d see a filthy cantina on this planet, but apparently I was wrong.”

“I always could pick ’em.” Vic took another sip from Aari’s glass. “Take the shipment to Mos Eisley on Tatooine. I’ll meet you in the cantina there. You know the drill.”

“Is the cantina anything like this one?”

Vic set the glass down. “You don’t want to know.” He adjusted his jacket and shifted toward the edge of the booth. “I’ll see you in a few days.” Leaning in toward the smuggler, he kissed her lightly on the cheek.

Aari glared daggers at the young man as he stood up, her fury hardly contained. “Don’t ever do that again,” she threatened.

Vic flashed his perfect smile, a glint of mischief in his gray eyes. “You know I will.” Without another word he disappeared into the crowd, leaving Aari alone in the dark corner booth.

Impossible man.

Aari once again checked her holster, and then as quietly as she had come, she left the booth and made her way out of the fifth-rate wormhole.

***

She hated the Emperor as she hated no other being. It was a feeling she’d grown used to over the years, from the time she was a small child. Back then it had been a sick sensation in her stomach whenever he was near, one of the only ways her still-growing Force abilities could manifest his presence. Sometimes it was like sharp nails scratching at her inner ear, other times it was like swallowing icy blades. No matter what it was, as she’d grown older, so had the tortured fear grown to hatred.

“Only your hatred can destroy your most powerful enemy.” Yes, she remembered that lesson. She had wanted to tell her father that there had to be another way, that hatred could only cause further destruction. But somehow, standing before the Emperor, whom she saw as her most powerful of enemies, she began to think that her father had been right.

“Your Excellency, the Imperial Princess is here at your request.”

She heard the scarlet-robed guard announce her, and she stepped forward boldly. The Emperor sat on his dark throne, the lights dim. How she wished for the power to strike him dead at that moment. His very presence was like a cold serpent, attempting to wrap itself around her. She could tell how much he wanted to crush her. She laughed inwardly. She too, had some power. While she could feel the slimy touch of his presence, she would not let it infest her. Her father had taught her how to deflect the Emperor’s influence.

“Your Highness wished to speak with me?” The princess bowed before the ruler of the Empire. She bowed outwardly, but her heart was defiant.

The Emperor shifted ever so slightly on his throne. “You have returned from your first diplomatic mission. How did it go?”

How did it go? You’re trying to corner those poor people, and you’re using my father to do it. “It was only mildly successful, Highness.”

“Oh? Couldn’t your father make Senator Organa talk?” His voice dripped with dark pleasure. He knew how much the princess adored her father.

“If the senator would not reveal any information, it is no fault of my father’s. Bail Organa is a very strong-willed man.” She felt the anger boil inside of her. How dare he accuse her father of failure. “They have been warned, Highness. They know who is in command.”

The Emperor looked slightly irritated at her boldness. “I suppose that is the best he could manage. You may leave.”

The princess rose from her knees and looked up into the Emperor’s cruel yellow eyes. In them she could see her hatred reflected tenfold. She shuddered inwardly, then caught herself. I will not fear him. Turning on her heel, she marched out of the throne room. She smirked as she passed the Royal Guard stationed at the door, hoping to give them something to think about. The Emperor’s cold presence grew less tangible as she put distance between herself and the throne room.

I am Princess Leia Ember Naberrie, daughter of Lord Darth Vader. And I will never bend to your will.

***

 

Very good. I'm looking forward to more of this.

 

I am really glad I got here on the first post! I love this so far--Luke and Mara, Leia hating Palpatine, Vader's face, the original characters blending in nicely, too. It's always nice to find a real gem when it's just starting out.

Needless to say, I'll be here for the next post!

 

tatooinewizard - thanks very much! I hope to have more up very soon! By the way, is there a shorter name you'd like to go by, or is "tatooinewizard" fine?

Moon - It's always nice to find a real gem when it's just starting out.

You're too kind. I'm glad you like it so far.

More soon!

 

Good start. I like how Vader didnt fall in the lava. Keep up the good work and post more soon.

 

I have no preference. Most just call me wizard or TW, so if you'd like to shorten it to either of those I don't mind.

 

Oooooo amazing start. I love the way you started the prologue with Vader and the lava pit. Chillingly powerful.

 

Cypher18 - I'm glad you like it!

Princess1 - again, thanks very much!

Next post soon!

 

Chapter One cont.


Cal Nightrunner stood silhouetted against the blazing twin suns of his homeworld, caring about little more than the job he had been hired to do on the moisture farm in the distance. He had only started as a hired hand a few months ago, after gruff Owen Lars appeared in the middle of Anchorhead looking for help. The sun-worn farmer seemed reluctant to ask for assistance, but his wife must have convinced him. Eram Nightrunner had insisted that his son take the job.

Trust his grounded father to land him with an equally grounded occupation. Moisture farming was the most predictable type of living Cal could imagine. Keep the vaporators running, wait for them to pull every drop of moisture out of the air, and store it to be sold. Cal’s job was to fix any of the equipment and machines that broke down and to make sure that any damage done by the Tusken Raiders could be repaired. That was really all Lars ever asked of him. Fix this, clean that, and don’t touch the swoop bike, it’s pretty old. Lars always gave him a funny look whenever Cal would wander close to that swoop.

The week before Cal had asked his mother why an old farmer like Owen Lars would have a swoop.

“Oh, you know. He wasn’t always an old farmer.” Tani Nightrunner always got a wistful look in her eyes when she spoke of the “old days” with her only son. Cal had shaken his head in exasperation. That still did not explain why the man kept a swoop that he clearly didn’t ride anymore.

Now as he approached the Lars homestead, Cal’s thoughts wandered back to the task that lay ahead. As he came closer to the small hovel, he saw a lone figure climbing the stairs from the doorway. He made out the slight frame of Beru Lars and allowed himself a smile. Cal liked the gentle older woman. She always invited him to stay for supper, even when she knew he would have to politely decline. There was a soft determination about her that was both sweetly mothering and boldly encouraging. It was too bad she’d never had any children of her own.

“Good morning, ma’am.” Cal hopped over a little dune and jogged to meet the woman.

Beru Lars squinted in the harsh glare of the suns, then smiled. “Hello, Cal. How good of you to come by.” She acted as though Cal came out of sheer good will. It was her way.

“Is he out already?”

“Yes, but he shouldn’t be. Caught a cold, he did. From staying out too late fiddling with those vaporators.” Beru sighed. “I told him not to, but he’s too prideful.” She had that same foggy look in her eyes that Cal’s mother got when she would delve into her memories.

“Ma’am?”

Beru looked up at the tall young man as if seeing him for the first time. “Why don’t you come in for a drink, Cal?” She motioned for him to come with her into the hovel.

The young farm hand nodded and followed the woman down the steps. He’d been in here many times already, but each time it seemed like there was something new to see. Which was strange considering the Lars’ rarely bought anything new – unless it was a droid or farm equipment. Still, Cal noticed different trinkets each time he stepped into the Lars home. Once he had seen a tiny model podracer, which looked curiously similar to the famous human-piloted pod that had won the Boonta Eve race over thirty years before. When he’d asked about it, Beru had quietly told him that the miniature had belonged to Owen’s stepmother.

Cal couldn’t even imagine Owen Lars being young enough to have a mother. Of course, he couldn’t imagine any of the adults on Tatooine ever being young.

“Owen bought a droid this morning from the Jawas. He’s putting it to work. He said he won’t need you today, since the harvest is winding down now.” Beru poured some purple liquid into a plastic cup and handed it to Cal. “Sorry we couldn’t get word to you before you came all the way out here.”

Cal took a sip of the drink. Refreshingly sweet. “It’s no trouble, ma’am.” He downed the rest of the liquid. “But if you’ll excuse me, I should probably go home and finish up my chores early, if you’ll not be needing me.”

Beru nodded. “That’d be fine, Cal. Be careful on the way back. Owen has been having a bad feeling about the Tuskens lately.” Her eyes clouded yet again, this time with worry.

“I will. Thank you for the drink.” Cal made his way back up the steps and into the bright morning light. He wondered what Beru had meant by a bad feeling. Owen probably just didn’t get enough sleep and mistook it for an ill omen. Shaking his head, the young man ventured out into the wild sands of the planet he reluctantly called home.

***

The towheaded prince stepped into the shadowy chamber, taking a deep breath. “Father?” He wasn’t sure if he should interrupt like this, but sensing his father stir, he knew it was too late to leave.

One of the shadows moved. “Yes, my son?” He didn’t sound irritated or angry. Just tired – a more common occurrence as of late.

Luke shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Should he tell him? Steadying his breathing, he took another step forward. “Father, I’m concerned.”

The Sith Lord came closer to Luke, lowering his black hood. “What troubles you, my son?” His dark blue eyes seemed to soften, something only his children witnessed.

Luke tried to tell him, but found himself unable. Not yet, a voice whispered in the back of his head. Not yet. The prince stared up into his father’s eyes. What could he say now? He’d interrupted his father’s meditation, something that no one but Luke and his sister could do and live to tell about it. He swallowed as quietly as he could. “I’m worried about you, Father. You seem tired.” It was true, even if it wasn’t what Luke had come to discuss.

Darth Vader sighed almost inaudibly. “Luke, you shouldn’t concern yourself with my health. Focus on your studies.” He rested a strong hand on Luke’s shoulder, looking down at his son. “I can take care of myself. You know that.”

Luke wouldn’t have called it the most warm of conversations, but then again, his father was a burdened man. Burdened with being second in command of the Galactic Empire. Burdened with the Rebel presence in the Senate. Burdened with training Leia to be the next Sith apprentice.

The boy sighed. It was probably more of a burden for Leia, if truth be told. Luke had no desire to be his father’s apprentice, and apparently the Emperor had deemed him unfit for the position. Leia was more like their father, which put her squarely in line for the apprenticeship, whether she liked it or not.

The prince laughed inwardly. He knew that Leia would never bow to the Emperor, or to any other man for that matter. She was loyal to her family, not the Empire. The same was true for Luke. He knew how much the Emperor hated the Imperial Prince and Princess. One day though, they would have to face him. And when that day came…

I will show him my true strength, which he brushed aside as weakness. And he will know that I am Prince Luke Shade Naberrie, son of the mightiest Sith Lord, Darth Vader. One day, he will know.

***

 

Another excellent post. I liked Cal a lot, he seemed curious and interesting. Plus, he had very interesting little comments about Owen and Beru.

Bad feeling about the Tuskens? That can't be good...

I'm also very intrigued by Luke's narrative, and the middle names of the twins. Ember and Shade? I'll have to remember that.

 

Bad feeling about the Tuskens? That can't be good...

Hey, you caught on to the twins' middle names! Good for you! And yes, I have my reasons, it's not all insanity.

 

ooooooooooo, you've got another story! I love this so far, I adore your Leia and am amazed at how, despite the fact your Vader has no mask, he's still in character! This is really something, I cant help but wonder how Cal will fit into all this, and that smuggler woman.

Up!

 

Hey Mystic! I know I'm repeating myself, but I'm very glad you found this and that you're enjoying it. Thanks for the lovely comments.

Hope to have more up tomorrow!

And also, to all you wonderful readers, if you're interested, my two other fics could use some love (See my bio) Only if you want to though!

 

Getting more interesting here.
And as others have stated, no good can come from the activity of Tuskens.

 

All I have to say is:

 

Up! (Working on next post)

 

Chapter Two: Intricate Deceptions


Nights were always quiet on Alderaan, and Javan would not have had it any other way. Standing on a balcony of the Royal Palace, he let the cool wind sweep across his face, the scent of new flowers a gentle reminder that the planet was experiencing its annual rebirth. The young man relished in the silence. The palace was a very peaceful place, an attribute which appealed to Javan even in his childhood. Still there came times when even the attentions of Organa relatives were too much to bear. When that happened, Javan ran off to his special balcony. Here he could always be alone. Here he could always think clearly. In his youth he would come to the palace with his father and visit Bail and his wife. If he concentrated harder, Javan could almost remember coming here with his mother. But that was a long time ago, and now he was grown.

Javan’s lips curved into a wry grin as he combed his fingers through his black hair. His father, Orin Madai, always laughed at him whenever he mentioned how adult he was. “You’ll always be my little boy,” he would chuckle merrily. Javan would shake his head in quiet amusement. He loved his father, but the man had never been one for politics. He saw Javan’s ambitions as childish pastimes and nothing more. Someday he would show him. He’d make his father proud. He’d make Bail proud.

Another grin.

Bail Organa was a different person entirely. He openly welcomed Javan’s interest in the Senate, and was always available to talk to the young man about his ideals and positions. Perhaps it was because the viceroy and prince of Alderaan had never had a child of his own. Javan was sometimes more like the child Bail should have had, rather than merely the son of a cousin. And sometimes Javan found himself wondering what it would be like to have Bail as a father. He would have lived in the beautiful palace, instead of a lavish city mansion. He would have been addressed as “Prince” or something to that effect, and he would have grown up in Bail’s impressive shadow.

When truths like these occurred to Javan, he realized how fortunate he was to have been born a Madai with ties to the House of Organa. He was free to follow Bail’s path without feeling pressure to do so. It was an act of love – love for politics, love for the people, and love for his cousin – rather than an act of inherited duty. It didn’t matter that he was not Bail’s natural son. He was the senator’s protégé, his more-than-son. That was all that really mattered.

Javan sighed and looked up at the distant stars. Somewhere out there was a power-hungry man who fed off of the ignorance of billions upon billions of living, breathing beings. He twisted their fates around his finger as if they were delicate threads. He could twist more and more, and when one snapped, he would continue on without a care. And now he was trying to do that to Bail and to Alderaan. Javan didn’t know if there really where any Rebels on his beloved planet, but if there were, it was Palpatine’s own fault. The whole Rebellion was started because the greedy old man didn’t know when enough was enough.

Sometimes the young diplomat wished he could do more. Yes, he was a skilled politician, but certainly not one of the brilliant ones. He was in the beginnings of his career, and already he was twenty-three years old. Practically middle age when he considered such bright stars as Mon Mothma, Padmé Amidala, and Bail Organa himself. They had all started in politics before age twenty. Senator Amidala had been fourteen when she was elected Queen of Naboo! Javan shook his head. What could he possibly do for his people? Amidala had defeated the invaders of her planet, Bail had been a leader during the Clone Wars…what mark could Javan Madai leave?

Again, the young man sighed. With the look of a man who had gone in search of answers and found none, he turned away from the dark sky and ventured indoors, leaving his balcony in silence.

***

 

uppers for my readers!

 

Short but good.

 

hhhmmmm, that Javon sounds vedy vedy interesting. I also wonder whats in store for him!

 

I'm growing fond of Javan. I like his views on politics and his connections to Bail--very interesting. I hope he continues to appear.

I love some of the phrases you use:

Somewhere out there was a power-hungry man who fed off of the ignorance of billions upon billions of living, breathing beings. He twisted their fates around his finger as if they were delicate threads. He could twist more and more, and when one snapped, he would continue on without a care.

and

It was an act of love ? love for politics, love for the people, and love for his cousin ? rather than an act of inherited duty.

are my favorites.

 

TW - yep, it was short...but I hope to more than make up for that with the next post or two.

Mystic - wait and see

Moon - I'm growing fond of Javan...I hope he continues to appear. Don't you worry about that...we'll be seeing lots of the young Alderaanian And thank you for the lovely compliments on those two passages. You make me blush! <-- see!

Haha...glad you're all enjoying this!

Next post coming up soon...hopefully tomorrow!

 

This one's a little on the darker side.

***
Chapter Two cont.


Aidan Rennal was not the brightest man to walk the scum-infested lower level of Imperial Center, but he knew when he was being followed. That might have had more to do with instinct than intelligence – he had felt that someone was following him before he ever saw it with his eyes. Aidan chuckled softly. This snoop didn’t know what he was getting himself into. If he thought it was going to be a quick fight, he had another thing coming to him. Aidan might not have had the sharpest mind, but Force knew he was quite capable in other areas.

Oh yes, how the Force did know.

The spy grew braver as Aidan traveled further into the criminal underbelly of what had once been Coruscant. He pulled his cloak tighter around his body as he passed several pairs of hands reaching out from the garbage piles. It was disgusting really. Aidan charged through the crowd, ignoring their futile pleas. He had one purpose for being down here, and one purpose alone. A mere spy would not stop him.

Taking a right turn he approached a dead end. Looking about, he saw that the spy was gone. No. Not gone. Just hiding. He closed his eyes and reached out mentally. There! A crashed speeder provided cover for the spy. You don’t know who you’re dealing with. Aidan smirked in the dim light and headed for small door in the building to his left. Placing his hands on the steel surface he saw the lock on the other side clicking softly, saw it settling in the correct notches, saw the door open with a groan. Opening his eyes, he saw the shadowy hall revealed, and smiling slightly, he stepped through the door.

Without bothering to close the door behind him, Aidan strode silently down the poorly lit corridor. He knew his predator would follow him into the murky darkness. Or rather, his prey. When he reached a junction where the lights failed completely, Aidan stepped off to the left and flattened himself against the wall. He didn’t need the light.

The man crept quietly past Aidan, apparently hesitant to continue without the lights. Aidan heard him stop and begin to backtrack. Suddenly and without warning, the man pulled out a blaster and pointed it at Aidan. “Don’t move,” he hissed, leveling the weapon at Aidan’s chest.

The stunned young man regained his calm. “You don’t have a chance.”

“Shut up and keep still. I’ve got the blaster.”

In half a heartbeat the blaster was ripped from the would-be-assassin’s hands and flew into Aidan’s palm. “Wrong,” he whispered ruthlessly. Without hesitating, he shot the man in the legs.

Screaming out in agony, the assassin fell to the floor. Aidan dragged him further down the corridor, where he could better see the man who had tried to kill him. He was about the same build as Aidan, with a blue bandana wrapped around his curly blonde hair. He looked to be about twenty-five, a little younger than Aidan. Pitiful.

“Who sent you,” Aidan growled, getting the most obvious and important question out of the way.

The assassin gritted his teeth. “Go to hell.”

Not quite the answer he was looking for. He pulled out a vibroblade that had been concealed beneath his cloak. “I’ll only ask once more.” The blade hummed as it came closer to the wounded man’s throat. “I must tell you, I really don’t appreciate it when people try to steal my jobs.”

The man stared up at Aidan hatefully, sucking in a deep breath. “Go…to…hell.”

A devilish grin played across Aidan’s fiery features. “I plan on it.” Tucking his blade under his cloak, he again pulled out the blaster and promptly shot the man between the eyes. Too bad he couldn’t get any information out of the little parasite. It would have been useful to know who was trying to get in on his business. An assassin was never safe.

No. That was not true. An assassin was safe when the Force was his ally. Aidan glanced down at the lifeless body. An assassin was never given a moment of peace, that was all. Not that Aidan minded much. After all, he was the best.

***

The throne room was dark, as usual. That was the way Emperor Palpatine liked it. So much easier to immerse himself completely in the dark side when the room was equally dark. He relished in the grim shadow that he cast, and he delighted in the power he felt when he sat upon his throne. It was all quite fitting, he mused to himself.

On his throne, the Emperor laughed inwardly. He was watching three small holovids, all of a trashy alley in the lower levels. In one of the holovids, a red-haired man in black clothes opened a locked door without apparent effort. Moments later, a brash young blonde man clutching a blaster followed him inside. The second holovid showed the red-haired man leaving quietly, a wicked smirk flashing across his face. The third showed two big men hauling out the body of the blonde and tossing it onto a pile of trash nearby.

Turning back to the second holovid, the Emperor rewound and stopped at the point where the redhead was in clear view. “So,” he murmured softly, “this is the man who killed the Hutt crime lord.”

“Yes, Your Excellency. Surna the Hutt.” The man in front of the throne looked up from the floor, remaining in a kneeling position.

“Interesting. He also eliminated a competitor.” The Emperor stared at the holovid with some fascination. “Find him. Have him brought to me.”

“Excellency, he seems to possess strange powers…” the man trailed off, unsure of how to continue.

“Mara,” the Emperor barked. Out of the shadows behind the throne appeared a young, fiery-haired girl. Her bright green eyes flashed in the dim light of the holovids.

“Yes, my master?” Her voice was confident and unafraid.

“You are to assist Captain Cryger in bringing in this assassin. This will be a test of your skills so far. Do not fail me.”

Bowing her head, the girl responded without hesitation. “It will be done as you command, my master.”

“Leave me, and return when it is completed.”

The girl and the captain bowed, the girl perhaps not so much as the man, and then they departed from the Emperor’s chilling presence.

***

Told you.

 

That was great! I enjoyed myself anyway. I'm curious about what will happen to Aidan now.