Star Wars: The Starkiller- Outdated

Chronicled here are the adventures of Galder Rexus Starkiller, a care-free, violent being who has dived deep into the Dark Side of the Force, using it as an unfair advantage over the weak-minded and the slow-witted.

= Chapter 1 =

The twin suns of Tatooine blazed in the brilliantly blue sky over Bestine, the capitol city. It was harvest season, and youths ranging from ten to twenty were working hard to make sure they got every last bit of food for their families. The youths and their harvesting droids went to the fringes of the small desert town and entered underground cellars, where they grew fruits and vegetables in hydroponic gardens, sparing them from the extreme heat of the day and supplying the plants with moisture that the atmosphere did not have. After their work in one family cellar was done, they would return home with bushels and sacks of food for the family.

One such family was the Gresham family, who lived in a small homestead just outside the city limits. Ren Gresham had built the homestead when he found that the apartments and homes in Bestine were too expensive for a small farmer like himself, and then married Terra Cottam. Ren and Ginger had two children, but their daughter Verala was of poor health, so only their son Thomas was able to pull in the harvest.

To combat the problem of harvesting too slow to get a good amount of fresh fruit and cellar-raiders, they had a hired hand, who would do anything they wanted in return for food and a bed to sleep in. Galder Starkiller was a unique boy and the talk of the town. He could somehow heal people and keep fruit ripe, and the Greshams had the greatest harvests for the two years he was around. Ren Gresham himself had been attacked by a cellar-raider and suffered a mortally wounding blaster shot, but Galder had saved him with his healing powers.

Galder’s past had been hidden, but everyone in Bestine down to the toddlers knew that he had crash-landed a small starship in the town square. The fifteen-year-old boy threw himself from the burning vehicle. A strange man in a dark cloak known as Pazol Crikten, the local hermit, took him away before questions arose, and both were gone by the time the shock wore off. He reappeared soon after and was employed by the Greshams.

Now he was helping Thom Grisham with the harvest in their family cellar. Thom, a well-built young man with a tan complexion, returned from the homestead with an empty sack. He was dressed in pale brown, loose clothes, his chest bared, his fair hair shaggy. “Galder, you still down there?”

“Yes, Thom, I am here,” Galder replied. He bounded up the stairs and into the sunlight, his body every bit as built and tan as Thom’s. The difference was in his clothing and hair. Despite the heat and scorching suns, Galder wore black pants and a black sleeveless shirt with a single V-shaped golden-brown stripe. His hair was short yet messy, and his face had a few scars from his mysterious harsh life. From his utility belt hung a holster for his blaster pistol, a few smalls sacks of tools and supplies, and a strange, long, polished cylinder made of electrum.

“What ripe fruits are still down there?” Thom asked. “We need to get them up here by sun down, then lock the cellar.”

“Barabel fruit, bloodfruit, dricklefruit, and there’s some camba-fruit left that we missed earlier,” Galder read the list he had made. “I’ve already put the ripe dricklefruit in their preservative jars, and be sure to tell your mother that there are still lots of camba-fruit.”

“Thank you, Galder, that saves my father a lot of time, and my mother and sister will be pleased.” Thom smiled. “Another good harvest, my friend, another good harvest!”

“Indeed,” Galder said with his own toothy grin, climbing up the cellar stairs and looks off into the sunset, over the Dune Sea. “Pretty sunset today, as usual.”

“Hard not to have one in Bestine,” Thom told him. “It’s just how the light from both suns hits that makes everything so beautiful...” The suns were low in the sky, and the near-cloudless skies around them were palettes of blues and pinks.

“I suppose we should keep working,” Galder interrupted the moment, immediately jumping back down into the cellar. “Don’t want Sand People hauling off our hard work.”

“We certainly don’t! That would be horrid. The Cloudstrafer family suffered that already.”

“Terrible. I suppose your father wants to loan them food?”

“Yes, as well as give them some money for a small feast from Dasobo Meats. I just might have to pitch in myself, if they order Dasobo’s Finest Gornt Cutlets.”

Galder did not reply from the cellar, but instead came back up carrying a large, battered hydroponics jar about the size of his torso that contained the dricklefruit. “Don’t forget your father’s Dune Cactus garden. I would very much like to have some of those succulents with my dinner...”

Thom merely nodded, but continued looking off into the horizon. Galder set the hydroponics jar down next to him and sat down. “What’s on your mind, Thom?’

“Outer space,” Thom replied. “Joining the Republic 27th Fleet as a fighter pilot.”

“Really?”

“Yes, or maybe the Army, if they don’t consider me a good pilot.”

“I’m sure you’d make a fine pilot, Thom. I don’t know anyone who’s flown through the Eye of the Needle without a scratch. Even I can’t do it with my...uniqueness...”

Thom turned to him. “And I still don’t know what that uniqueness is.”

Galder sighed, then turned away from the sunset. “I suppose you deserve to know, after these past three years of my stay. Very well, I shall tell you.” Galder cracked his hands and neck out of habit, then began to talk again. “Have you ever heard of the Agricultural Corps?”

“Aye, it is a section of the Jedi Knights. I read about them awhile back.”

“Well, how does a Jedi Knight help? What makes them so special in the agricultural section?”

“They use the Force to...” Thom’s eyes went wide. “...keep food ripe.” Thom stood. “Are you telling me that you are a Jedi Knight? You do exactly that!”

“No, I’m telling you that I have the gifts of one, but without restraints,” Galder told him as he rose to his feet. “I can roam free. I’ve never been to Coruscant, so I cannot have had training, other than what my father and mother taught me. Both were Jedi.”

“That’s amazing! Our very own Galder, son of the Jedi...”

Galder started to hush him. “If word gets out that I’m a Force-user, it’ll be rough goin’ for me. Your neighbors would be quite jealous, and some people will be after me that I don‘t like...”

“You’re quite right, it’ll be our little secret.”

“Good. Now, we need to finish up. I suppose we can close the blast doors for tonight.”

“Did we get HG-2 emptied?” Thom asked, still quite excited over what Galder had said.

“No, but we’ll get to it tomorrow. What’s in there anyway?”

“The usual hydroponics harvests, the naturally growing stuff.”

“Bloddle, bristlemelon, pallies, podpopper, puk, and tangaroot?”

“That’s right.”

Galder put the hydroponics jar with the preserving dricklefruit in the back of Thom’s 9000-Z004 low-riding blue landspeeder. “I’ll see you in the morning, Thom. I have somewhere to be...”

“Where could you possibly need to be at night?” Thom asked, securing the jar with straps.

“I’ve already shared enough secrets with you today,” Galder said, quite seriously. “Tell your parents to leave my food in the refresher for me.”

“Alright, g’night Galder.” With that, Thom powered up the speeder and drove away, the high-pitched sound of the anti-grav engines following him into the darkening twilight. Galder watched him go, then locked up the hydroponic garden, closing the blast door. He took a small sack and sprinkled a fine powder of silicartha in the sand over the hydroponic garden to prevent sand-borers to dig into the garden and eat what remained. He then mounted his swoop bike and took off.

<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>

= Chaper 1 Continued =

Galder powered down the swoop, pulling the key out of the ignition and pulling a magnatorch from his utility belt. It made a few small clinking and crackling sounds, then emitted a dim orange glow to light his surroundings. He was at the bottom of the deep and craggy Beggar’s Canyon, renowned for the amount of hermits that lived there, located in the Jundland Wastes, just between the Dune Sea and Ebe Crater Valley. Womp rats ran rampant through the small burrowed caves of the Canyon, and Galder heard them skittering around in the darkness, their red eyes gleaming in the magnatorch light.

After a few minutes of walking, he came upon a large, wrecked T-16 Skyhopper. Jawas had scavenged most of the hull and main parts, but Galder could tell by its markings that it belonged to the Cloudstrafers. Judd Cloudstrafer had crashed it weeks ago after clipping the side of the canyon and losing control. Beggar’s Canyon was a popular route for youths to race their Skyhoppers through as it was relatively easy and led on to a network of small canyons that crisscrossed the Wastes. Judd just happened to not be a very good pilot, though he claimed that Tusken snipers shot him down.

Soon Galder reached his destination. It was a dark cave that had been created awhile back by the Tusken Raiders for an encampment, and went back into the canyon wall a few dozen meters. At the entrance to the cavern was a holosign, emitting Aurabesh letters and a symbol with a flickering red glow. It read, “Cavern of Pazol Crikten,” and had a strange, serpent-shaped symbol.

“Pazol?” Galder called into the cave. He started to venture inside when rough, spindly hands wrapped themselves around his throat, starting to choke him. Galder pulled at the hands, but then reached for the cylinder at his belt. With the flip of a switch on the cylinder, snap-hiss! A shaft of green light extended from it, and he tried to touch it to the assaulter’s arm. His attacker released him, and pulled out his own cylinder, a shaft of red light scintillating in the darkness. The green clashed on red for a few blows, before the attacker pulled back.

“Galder, you cannot be taken unawares so easily,” the man said, pulling off his hood. Galder had dropped the magnatorch, so he called it to him with the Force. It illuminated the man’s face under the hood, revealing it to be Pazol Crikten, Galder’s mentor in the use of the Force and the lightsaber. He was wearing another one of his black robes, which he had claimed many times before that it was an authentic Sith cloak. Galder highly doubted that, for it did not seem that old. The Sith had been extinct for a millennia. “You must always be aware of strange presences, especially hostile ones.”

“That is difficult with so many hermits and womp rats around, Pazol,” Galder replied, putting his lightsaber back at his belt.

“Ah, but you would feel danger from only one of them, unless a womp rat happened to be attacking you at the same time,” Pazol replied. “Tsk tsk, I thought you knew better.”

“Sorry, Pazol, my mind was on the harvest.”

“Harvest season again? I take it you are still a hired hand for that stupid family. The Greshams are weak without you.”

“They are a great family, you do not know them.”

“Getting angry? Come on, show me that you know better than I...”

Galder’s mind raced. Pazol had been pushing him to anger quickly like this for weeks now. Galder had been studying with him for the past three years, but now Pazol was more edgy and cautious with his pupil. And the pupil now realized why. His mentor had been oppressing him for a very obvious reason. “I think I have learned quite enough from you, Pazol,” Galder replied. Snap-hiss! He ignited his lightsaber once again. “And I have taken quite enough of your oppression these past weeks.”

“Really now? What are you going to do about it?”

“I am going to kill you.” Galder gave a roar of might and charged at Pazol with a heavy blow to the stomach. His mentor easily blocked by holding the blade horizontal, then riposted with his own jab. The tip of the red blade skimmed Galder’s arm, and he growled with agony. The blades clashed again for a few swift blows, and Galder tried to knock Pazol’s guard away. The old man held strong.

The lightsaber that Galder was using had history in it. It was his father’s lightsaber. Gathol Starkiller had been a Jedi Master of the Galactic Republic, leaving the Order to marry Galder’s mother. Galder could not share the same path as his father. He had never even been to the Jedi Temple, but even then, he’d be deemed to old. Besides, he had found something better, something quicker, something more powerful.

The Dark-Side of the Force. Emotions could be made to do powerful things through the Force, unlike the Jedi who tried to rid themselves of emotions such as sadness, anger, love...

Galder knew these sentiments all too well. His parents and him had been on a cruiser bound for the Outer Rim, but crashed on Hoth. Then, when Galder was older, his parents were killed by a mysterious man, who had slinked away when Galder arrived. All he could remember of the man was a red lightsaber, the rest of his features veiled by the thick fog.

“Have you figured out yet, Galder, who killed your parents?”

“Yes, it was you! Your subtle hints have been registering in my mind, and now it all makes sense. An act of anger against an old friend, was it? I’ll show you an act of anger!” Galder spun brilliantly with perfect timing and his father’s blade slipped past Pazol’s guard. It skimmed across his chest, and the man gave a grunt of pain. Galder followed up with many quick blows, but Pazol batted these away.

“You know, I was once a Jedi, and your father was a good friend of mine. I did not know he had a son until after he was dead. When you crashed on Tatooine, I felt obliged to help you, to teach you the ways of the Force...”

“Maybe you made a mistake.” Galder charged towards him with a roaring battle cry, jumping up and bringing his blade down on Pazol’s head. His blade only met Pazol’s red one, the shafts of light crackling against each other.

“Perhaps I did.” Pazol slipped to one side, jabbing at Galder’s ribcage. Galder parried the blow. Galder aimed a jab back. Pazol parried as Galder had before. A slash to the kneecap was met with a powerful block. A decapitation attempt stopped by a equally strong slash. The two warriors exchanged blows for a few minutes, Galder planting a kick in Pazol’s stomach, Pazol hitting Galder on the head with the pommel of his hilt. Blood began to stream from his brow. Galder, now in a fit of rage, piled on heavier blows, forcing Pazol back against one of the jutting rocks.

“Galder, I don’t want to hurt you!”

“You already have...” Galder swung with all of his might and knocked the lightsaber from his mentor’s hand. It landed in the sand a few feet away.

“Mercy, Galder, mercy!” Pazol begged, falling to the ground as Galder slashed through both legs, removing them from his body.

“The kind of mercy you showed my father and mother?!” Galder’s face had contorted to a mask of rage. “I think not!”

Vwoom! Pazol crumpled to ground, clutching at his throat, which Galder had slit skillfully. He cut through the base of Pazol’s spine, immobilizing him.

“Good bye, Pazol,” Galder hissed, calling the red-bladed weapon to him from the sand. “I will not forget your teachings...”

Pazol tried to reply, but only gurgled and moaned. Galder hopped onto his swoop and roared off, slashing through the holosign with his green blade, then turning it off and riding away, into the night.

<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>

As Galder’s swoop approached the Gresham homestead, he had a terrible feeling. It was gnawing at him, and Pazol’s words came back to him. “The Greshams are weak without you.”

Soon the homestead was in sight, and now Galder knew what the Force had been trying to tell him. The homestead was ablaze, Thom’s speeder shattered, vaporators sparking with electricity. Smoke billowed from the homestead, and HG-1 was blown open, obviously raided. A single file of tracks led to and away from the homestead, and the bodies of the Greshams were strewn, mutilated, in the sands. Galder recognized the tracks as bantha tracks. Sand People rode in single file on the creatures, and Galder had their trail.

= Chapter 2 =

“So, where‘d you say you got that gash on your shoulder?” the smuggler asked.

“A village of Tusken Raiders that I slaughtered...” Galder replied. On his sojourn to Mos Eisley, he had decided to stop and unleash his anger on a village of Sand People. He left none alive.

“Damn, you must have some major thrill issues if you just walked out your door and decided ‘I’m gonna kill some Tuskens today,’” the smuggler replied, taking a swig of some alcoholic Bantha-blood Frizz.

“No, I’m just very skilled, and very angry.”

“Apparently.” The smuggler rolled his eyes. “Well, I’ll believe your story when I see the bodies. Anyway, not what you are here to talk to me about, are you?”

“Of course not. I’m here to hire you to take me to Nar Shaddaa.”

“Nar Shaddaa? Sure thing. Not too far away. It’ll still cost you fifteen-thousand credits.”

“You do not need the payment...” Galder said, waving a hand in front of the smuggler’s face.

“I do not need the payment...” the confused smuggler mimicked.

“You will take me to your ship now...”

“I will take you to my ship now...” The smuggler rose and flipped a coin to the bartender to pay for the drink, then marched to the docking bays. “This way.”

Foolish weakling... Galder thought.

As they walked to the bay, the man eyed the large hydroponic jar that Galder was carrying. “So, whatcha got in there?”

“The remains of my harvest. The Tuskens got to it.” Galder had packed bristlemelon and pallies into the jar with the preserved dricklefruit that the Sand People had missed.

“Leavin’ the planet because that? It happens to every farmer at least once...”

“I have my reasons, but they are none of your concern...”

“Alright, suit yourself...” The smuggler led the way to the docking bays, then stopped at docking bay 206. “Here we are, the Raging Reek. Modified Star Viper,” the smuggler announced, proud of his handiwork on the fighter craft. The hull was a deep gray and shiny. Twin blaster cannons protruded from every corner of the cockpit, a torpedo launch tube in between each barrel. “She’s a beaut’ ain’t she?”

“Sure is,” Galder replied, rolling his eyes. “Just take me to Nar Shaddaa.”

The smuggler and Galder got aboard the starfighter. The smuggler sat in the cockpit, went through the launch procedures, and the starfighter lifted out of the docking bay. It zipped away into the baking Tatooine atmosphere, then out into the coldness of outer space. Galder felt the difference of temperature immediately, dropping from nearly forty degrees standard to nearly two-hundred-and-fifty below. The ship’s internal heating activated, providing a comfortable warmth.

“So, where on Tatooine did you come from? Anchorhead, Wayfar?”

“Bestine.”

“That’s a long ways off.” The smuggler clicked some buttons on the dashboard and brought up the recent news on the HoloNet. Galder started to feel uncomfortable when the smuggler brought up a Bounty Hunters’ Guild account on the screen after that, but decided to ignore the feeling. He would rather not have to kill anyone right now. Just in case, his hand rested on his thigh, next to his pistol holster.

“So...how long until we reach Nar Shaddaa?” Galder asked.

“We aren’t going to Nar Shaddaa.” The smuggler turned, pulling a sawed-off blaster from a compartment on the dashboard. He aimed it directly at Galder, the nozzle pressed against Galder’s forehead. “We’re going to Coruscant. You are wanted for the murder of Jedi Master Jeqaur Rar. I am taking you to the Republic for a fine bounty.”

Galder did not move or say anything. The smuggler was smiling, confident that he had just captured a notorious criminal. Indeed, Galder had killed Jeqaur Rar, and a bounty had been placed on his head. It was on Hoth, just a few short years ago, when the Twi’lek Jeqaur and his young pupil approached him, asking for the whereabouts of Gathol Starkiller. Angry that the Jedi had just left the Starkillers on Hoth until after Gathol’s death, Galder had drawn his father’s lightsaber and driven it into Jeqaur’s chest. For the next hour after that, his pupil, Lance Windu, had chased Galder through the snow storm, destroying Galder’s mother’s lightsaber and giving Galder a grievous injury. Galder lay wounded in the snow, but survived. Now, the only Jedi he would ever honor were his mother and father.

Galder, still not moving, sat for awhile. The navigational computer beeped. “We’re almost there, Galder. Just a few more minutes and I’ll be handing you over to the Jedi...”

Blat! The smuggler’s face went from a confident smile to a confused frown. He slumped back with a look of surprise, falling off the chair. Galder had pulled the trigger on his pistol and killed him. Galder quickly pulled the starfighter out of hyperspace and turned it around, setting a different course. Thankfully, the navigational computer had been made for people less capable with hyperspace technology and it was easy for Galder to set a course for Hoth. Galder dragged the limp body of the would-be bounty hunter into the engine room and left it there.

During the short conflict, Galder had been tense to the point of not realizing that the blaster bolt that had killed his captor had sizzled a neat burn down the side of his leg. Bacta is in good supply aboard the ship, and he rubbed it on quickly. More was applied to the gash in his shoulder, and the scabbing cut above his eye. I’ll probably experience worse after this... he thought as the blue ooze fizzled in his wounds.

= Chapter 3 =

A war was raging for the planet Naadal by two sides, the Southern Naadal government and the Northern Naadal government. Both had been trying to claim a strip of land known as the Rossiine Territory. It had been agreed that the land was to be neutral, set aside for a popular religious group known as the Wanderers. Covered in ancient ruins and surrounded on all sides by rivers and swamps, the Rossiine Territory was secluded and perfect for the Wanderers. But the Southern and Northern Naadal governments rarely agreed on a single thing, and soon the Southern Naadal army had positioned itself in the Rossiine Territory’s ancient capitol, Ross. The North moved to intervene with the South’s occupation, and war had started once again.

It had been two years since the Ross Conflict had begun, and the South was still holding strong, easily defending the city’s high walls. Neither side had a strong air force, otherwise the South would have been forced out years earlier. Instead, the South dug in and kept a firm grip on Ross.

Both sides had high amounts of ground infantry, an integration of organic and robotic soldiers. The Northern Naadal droid soldiers were humanoid in shape and carried light rifles, as did the organic troops. The Southern Naadal, however, were less impartial and equipped all soldiers with as much heavy weaponry as they could carry. Each trooper was given a heavy assault rifle with an explosives launcher attachment, twin pistols, a mortar launcher, thermal detonators, and other random weapons.

Galder Starkiller, looking to be hired as a mercenary, had been hired by the Southern Naadal government with two other Force-using mercenaries he had befriended. He certainly looked the part of a Southern Naadal soldier; the large assault rifle was slung over his back by a bandolier, which was covered in small rockets and gas cartridges. His utility belt pouches had been replaced to make room for the thermal detonators and grenades, as well as his twin pistols and holsters, he had been given at the start of his involvement in the conflict. Everything was stained with mud, since Naadal had a continuous rainfall.

The other two Force-using mercenaries were Matthias Doon, an old friend from Tatooine, and Rura Ta, a Kaminoan mercenary. Matthias was tan, fair-haired, and heavily scarred from making a suicidal attempt to kill a Krayt dragon. While he had no lightsaber and only the weapons given to him by the Southern Naadal army, he could tap into his emotions to use at his disposal. Rura, tall, lanky, pale, with large black eyes, his nose and cranial fin pierced with small silver rings, and dressed in dark, mud-stained camouflage had less skill with using his emotions with the Force, as he tended to be rather emotionless about many things. He had refused to take any of the Southern Naadal weapons, instead using a sleek, high-powered blaster rifle from his homeworld. He had a lightsaber with a turquoise blade, but preferred a blaster weapon over it.

The three of them were now stealthily making their way into the ruins neighboring Ross, known as Old Ross. Many buildings still stood, and Galder wondered why it was abandoned at all. Matthias told him that the Wanderers believed it to be a place of holiness, set aside for their divine beings. Rura said that it was still used for some things, like planning terrorist attacks against both the South and the North, since the Wanderers were suicidal martyrs at heart.

“Well, we all fit the suicidal part, but we’re not fighting for something we believe in...” Matthias chuckled, crouching low and moving behind Galder through the mud.

“Alright, keep it down.” Galder hushed them both as they began nearing the city, which was square and unimaginative.

“The architects must have been pretty drab when they built this place,” Matthias whispered.

“Easy to navigate since everything is in square blocks, though,” Rura told him. “It might start all blending together if you don’t keep track of your location, though...” All the buildings were essentially identical, but towards the center of the city, where most of the Northern Naadal forces were positioned, they not only began to become more of a variety of architectural designs, but they also began to become more destroyed. It was obvious where the track-using transports had rolled through.

“Still using tracks?” Galder asked, examining the imprints of the tracks that the transports had made in the muddy road.

“Naadal isn’t exactly the most technologically advanced planet in the universe,” Rura informed. “At least, not in transportation. Compared to some of the things that the Kuat Drive Yards and Rothana Heavy Engineering can come up with, I’d say the Naadal are pretty primitive...”

Galder and his two companions stayed hidden in the bushes that grew around each building, and were soon joined by tracked Southern vehicles. Galder and Matthias hopped into the gunners’ seats on one of them, arming the heavy anti-personnel blaster cannons quickly. Rura plodded along next to the slow moving vehicle, his head swiveling to see every source of every sound.

“Almost to the town square,” the driver announced to Galder and Matthias. “Just keep on the look out for any...”

Phwoosh! A rocket-propelled grenade whizzed by and exploded against the side of a building, narrowly missing the transport.

“We’ve been spotted!” Galder shouted in warning as two more rockets whizzed by. Galder and Matthias opened fire with the cannons, the low hum of laser fire filling their ears. The bolts burst against the building where the rockets had been coming from. Galder’s aim shattered a door frame and killed the rocket-firer.

“Nice shot Galder!” Matthias hollered over the roar of his cannon. A dozen or so Northern droids emerged from behind a wall, marching in unison and firing their light rifles into the Southern personnel, who in turn fired back. A saucer-shaped bomber soared low over their heads, dropping a small payload to create confusion. One of the light proton bombs exploded near Galder and Matthias, who were both thrown from their vehicle. A rocket hit the vehicle a few seconds later, setting fire to it and causing the engine to explode.

“That was close!” Galder said to Matthias, scuttling across the ground to take cover behind a building with his companion. Rura followed them through the smoke, returning fire shortly before diving for cover.

“We should attempt to flank these Northerners,” Rura suggested. “If the South has trouble dealing with flankers, I am sure the North will too.” Based upon this idea, the three of them started moving quickly, altering their speed with the Force to give them quick bursts of hurried motion. The occasional stray blaster bolt whizzed past them, but they remained unseen.

Their stealth was ended when a transport’s gunner spotted the three making their way through the muddy road just east of him. Matthias and Rura were forced to take cover, but Galder, who had been caught in the middle of the road, had to dive backwards. Now separated from his friends, he shouted for them to move on.

“I’ll catch up later!” he yelled over the blaster fire. “Just do as much damage as you can!” Matthias nodded in response, saluted his friend, then turned to follow the Kaminoan who had already been making his way behind enemy lines. Galder watched them go for a bit, then leaned out of cover for a few seconds. The transport was still there, not satisfied with the amount of blaster fire it had emitted. It turned and began making its way towards Galder’s position, but Galder had other plans in mind.

Sprinting from cover, he dashed across the damp road, lasers from the heavy quad exploding only inches behind him. He dove forwards and through the open door of a building. Safety was felt only for a second, since the quad was relentless and its beams tore through the thin wall. Galder had to crouch and get behind cover to avoid them. This isn’t good, Galder thought, pushing open the door at the far end.

Greeting him on the next road was another transport, also armed with a quad. The four-barreled weapon began spitting lasers at him as the first transport had. Galder strafed and spun to head back, but the first transport turned a corner and also opened fire. The crossfire was tremendous, mud kicking up all over the place. Northern infantry units in dark gray camouflage and light blast armor moved into the area, adding to the chaos. Galder continued to strafe, making his way towards the second transport.

Luckily, he was undamaged by the time reached the second one. With a hop, flip, and a jump, he landed on the craft and ignited his red lightsaber, hacking through the gunner. He threw himself off to the side and into the infantry just as the first transport’s quad punched into the second. A secondary explosion sent parts of the damaged vehicle everywhere like a cloud of shrapnel. Infantry units dived to the ground as burning metal flew overhead, and Galder performed a series of wall kicks to get himself to the third story roof of a building.

= Chapter 3 Continued =

“Glad I got out of there...” he thought aloud, peeking over the edge for a moment. Potshots whizzed past his face, and he backed away from the edge. Getting a running start, he leaped over the crowd of Northern infantry and vehicles and onto the opposite building. He made his way down to the street via small alleyway, lightsaber still humming monotonously in one hand, a Naadal sporting pistol in the other. So far he had not even broke a sweat.

Fighter craft roared overhead. At first Galder paid no attention to the vehicles, but as the sound continued, it began to become familiar. Straight above him flew three heavy Republican airships, heading towards the Southern Naadal troops. His eyes went wide, and he activated his comlink. “Ross Home, this is Private Starkiller, do you copy, over.” He listened for a moment, receiving only static, then repeated his message. “Ross Home, this is...”

“Ross Home to Private Starkiller, what is it soldier?” came a voice at the other end of the line.

“Ross Home, Northern Naadal has received Republican reinforcements! I just spotted three gunships flying overhead...” He waited for a reply for a long while, the awkward silence making Galder uncomfortable. When he received nothing but static for ten minutes and going, he switched his channel to contact Matthias and Rura. “Matthias, this is Galder. Where are you?”

Rura answered the comlink. “Galder, this is Rura,” he said in his serene, somewhat neurotic voice. “Matthias has been killed by a Jedi. I am currently pinned down with his body. According to my locator, you are just three blocks south of me. I need your help.”

Galder stared into space for awhile, realizing that he had lost another friend. Rura tried to get his attention, but Galder switched off his comlink and dashed from the alleyway, both lightsabers lit. Now he was angry.

<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>

Galder limped away from Old Ross with the rest of the Southern Naadal Army, hanging on to Rura’s belt for support. There was a neat slice through his left side and many smaller cuts on his body from tumbling through the brush to escape the Northern Naadal infantry and, more importantly, the squad of Jedi that he had run into.

“Now you know not to take on three Jedi at once and hope to win,” Rura muttered to his much shorter companion. Rura had a hole singed through his right arm, which hung limply at his side. “It’s a bad idea, especially if they all have their lightsabers out already...”

Galder said nothing, still limping. He had managed to keep a hold of all his weapons, and had only used one thermal detonator to blow up a Republican hover tank. But, after that, the Jedi had kept an eye on him, and eventually he attacked upon seeing them. A young man with a blue-bladed lightstaff had kept him busy while a woman with a green lightsaber and her Padawan charged him down. It had been the Padawan who scored the most painful blow that convinced Galder to retreat, albeit with a little help from Rura and other Southern soldiers. The Padawan pursued, but Galder took him off-guard by halting his retreat and driving his lightsaber into the boy’s chest. Rura and Galder then retreated as fast as they could.

“Galder?” Rura waved his hand in front of Galder’s face.

“Sorry, Rura, my mind is on other things...” Galder replied. “I’ve lost a friend to a worthless cause that wasn’t ours in the first place...”

“Well, look on the bright side, at least you aren’t dead yourself,” Rura said. “I heard Napolla the Hutt might be rehiring you for another battle against Gargon the Hutt. Lots of money in that...”

<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>

Galder tossed and turned in his bed in the abandoned pirate base on the surface of Hoth. The death of Matthias was still fresh on his mind, though it had been nearly three months, and he had just gotten home from the terrible conflict with Gargon the Hutt. His employer, Napolla, had been assassinated, and later he would sum it up as “Assassination attempt, me running, and the rest is history." But that night, his mind left those dreadful thoughts for something far stranger...

The galaxy is going to be facing a great evil. From who and what, though? Who can possibly stand against the Galactic Republic, the greatest democracy in the known Universe? Soldiers are well-trained, security guards are well-trained, but that is not the worry. The Jedi are the worry.

Yet, someone will make a stand...a man. Tall, handsome, braided hair, trimmed beard...and a lightsaber.

A white light in the form of a sphere...a planet. A platform hovers above it, a laser beam coming forth and burning into the surface. On board the platform, another man stands there, ordering beings around. He is greeted by others. Then they are on the planet. A tall, black fortress-like building juts up from the surface, surrounded by masses of natural gold veins. Lightsabers clash violently...and then all is gone in a green light...

= Chapter 4 =

The bar was crowded, more so than usual. About thirty or so Rodians had entered, placing themselves among the patrons and customers. Their leader had handsomely bribed all the bouncers for the occasion. Vroodo the Violent, one of the very few Rodian crime lords and one of the best, was expecting company, and everyone knew that he meant business. When thirty of the skilled warriors of his mafia in were one building, people knew it would get ugly.

Shortly after the Vroodo gang arrived, three men and a Zabrak woman showed up. One man, Quam Ak-toh, was robed in handsome black clothes, his face hidden, a Tommy blaster held tightly with both hands, his right hand pointer finger tapping the trigger ever so lightly. The Zabrak woman, Dim, was robed similarly, but the robes were black and dark purple, her face hidden by a jeweled veil, which in turn was attached to a headdress. The second man was Galder Starkiller himself, wearing a new pair of pants with Corellian bloodstripes running down both legs, the golden-brown line across his black shirt. His utility belt still had thermal detonators and grenades of various types attached, his two lightsabers hidden in his pockets. The very large, extremely powerful Southern Naadal assault rifle was slung across his back, his twin pistols holstered, and he had a smug grin on.

The man behind the three of them had paid them all more handsomely than Vroodo had paid the bouncers, with pure gold. His name was Larios Kuylen, and he had insisted on all three of them being hired hands and bodyguards. He was tall, but not particularly bulky, and sported a well-measured and trimmed beard. Rather out of the ordinary, he was wearing a pelisse, or a jacket worn like a cloak with an arm through one sleeve, over a dark blue jacket and trousers. Something about Kuylen made Galder uneasy, but the urge to have safety in numbers was greater. For the past five years, he had been running from bounty hunters and Jedi, after assassinating the smuggler on what was now his starship. He was a highly wanted man, and staying with Quam and Dim gave him greater security.

Kuylen was hailed to Vroodo’s table upon entering, and the others sat with him.

“I thought I told you not to bring goons, Kuylen,” Vroodo said in Basic, with a heavy Rodian accent.

“Well, you brought thirty, so I thought I would bring three,” Kuylen answered politely, with a slight grin of amusement. “Galder, Quam, and Dim will do nothing unless I tell them too, so have no fears, my friend.”

“They’d better be.” Vroodo beckoned to his aide, who handed him a datapad. The Rodian crime lord scrolled through it, then frowned and looked up to the man sitting across from him. “It appears, Kuylen, that I may have overlooked some of your other dealings. I am an enemy of Shareth the Hutt, you know.”

“I can do nothing to resolve the Shareth-Vroodo Conflict,” Kuylen replied calmly. “Other than make you allies in my...plan.”

“Allies? With Shareth? Preposterous! You are asking me to set aside the fact that her assassins killed my wife and daughter? Outrageous!” the Rodian screamed back angrily. “No amount of money in the world can make me forgive and forget.”

“Well, then I guess you shall not be receiving my further payments, let alone my services,” Kuylen said curtly. “Galder, Quam, Dim, come. We are going.” The military-suited man rose to leave, but a group of Rodians stopped him.

“Oh no you don’t! A friend of Shareth’s is an enemy of mine, Kuylen, and you shall not be leaving this bar alive!”

“That’s nice...” Kuylen snapped his fingers, and instantly Quam and Galder had pulled their guns. The high-pitched constant buzzing of Quam’s blaster and the low bleating of Galder’s pistols combined with the various noises created by the Rodian mafia’s guns. Bystanders threw themselves to the ground or bee-lined for the exit. Galder and Quam quickly gunned down ten in less than five seconds, then were forced to move by the incoming return fire they were met with. Kuylen took cover, making an agile leap behind an overturned table, then made his way to the edge of the room, watching his bodyguards quickly handle the twenty Rodians that now remained. He’d better keep down, Galder thought as he spun and blew away two more.

Right away, they were surrounded by Rodians. More entered the bar with heavier weapons, two of them setting up a heavy stationary blaster cannon. “Galder, two speeders outside, get down!” Quam hollered at him as he went prone. Galder turned and just narrowly avoided the rapid stream of super-heated gas. Quam combat-crawled over to him as blaster fire and old-fashioned bullets pattered around them. “We cannot keep this up much longer.”

“I can think of a way to survive this...” Galder fired a shrapnel mortar from his rifle’s second barrel, blowing a hole in the roof and showering dust and debris down on the Rodians. He then leaped from behind the table, igniting his lightsabers and driving them into two Rodians. “Quam, get going!” he hollered, turning back to see that Quam was already moving, but not with his blaster. Snap-hiss! Snap-hiss! Quam activated his own two lightsabers, Galder not knowing that Quam could use them. His fellow bodyguard attacked a Rodian, similarly driving his lightsabers into Rodians. Dim, on the other side of the room, had already switched on her double-edged lightstaff, and spun elegantly through the alien attackers.

Together the saber-wielding warriors began to hack down many Rodians, but the heavy cannons from the speeders and the tables across the room were keeping them pinned. Galder deflected as many bolts as he could, but a spray from a old-fashioned machine gun caught him off guard. The bullets either sparked and melted against his lightsabers or tore through his right arm. It was a bloody mass, and he was forced to take cover again. Quam suffered the same injury from the same gun. Dim took cover to avoid getting hit with it, the bullets blowing chunks from the round table she was ducking behind.

Snap-hiss! Vwoom! Suddenly, the machine gun fire stopped. Vwoom! Vwoom! Vwoom! The blaster fire stopped. Gat-gat-gat-gat-gat-gat-gat-gat-gat! The machine gun started again, killing the drivers and gunners of the speeders by sending a hail of bullets through their speeders’ windows. Vwoom! Vwoom! Vwoom! Vwoom! Vwoom! Vwoom! Vwoom! Vwoom! Vwoom! Vwoom! Vwoom! Vwoom! Vwoom! Galder came out of his cover, hearing no more blaster bolts. Rodians lay fallen everywhere, either dead or knocked unconscious, but mostly dead. Kuylen stood triumphant with Vroodo near the machine gun, lifting the fat crime lord off the ground with the Force, a purple-bladed lightsaber in his other hand. Vroodo gagged and went limp. Kuylen tossed him aside and turned to the three bodyguards with his usual calmness.

“Kuylen, is there something you forgot to tell us when you hired us as bodyguards?” Quam piped up sarcastically, but still amazed. The three of them approached their client, not quite sure why they were hired to guard him if he could easily defend himself.

“That was a nice piece of work you did with that lightsaber,” Galder said, examining a corpse. Kuylen had jabbed his blade through every single one. Not a standard slash, not a messy hack, but a neat stab through the chest.

Kuylen turned to them, fixing his braided hair. “Come with me. I have great plans for you three. That, and we should probably get out of here before the authorities arrive...”

= Chapter 5 =

In the two years that Galder had spent with Kuylen and his crew, not only had he gotten to know very little of his comrades, but he had become involved in Kuylen’s plan. His plans were nothing short of becoming the most powerful being in the known universe. He had many lackeys under his thumb, but he treated the Dark Jedi that surrounded him like companions.

They were in their home base on Dordellus, an outlying world far from the Republic. It barely qualified as habitable, and so far, all attempts to colonize the planet had failed with the loss of life of all colonists, though more recent ventures ended when Kuylen’s lackeys took all of them captive. It was covered in soggy swamps with poor mineral resources and almost no available food, and the weather on the surface was extremely cold. Vast swarms of millions of strange insects known as arthropods fluttered across the planet, and so far there had been nothing they could not devour. Galder had watched them eat through a colony space cruiser in mere seconds. Natural life forms had developed defenses in the form of high-pitched sounds that drove the bugs away. Working on that principle, when Kuylen constructed the base from a prefabricated refit of a cave system, he set up powerful sonic vibrators all around it. The activated vibrators had killed millions of them in seconds, much more powerful than the natural defenses of the animals around. Galder disliked the defenses as they gave him bad headaches, but they were necessary. The whole complex was disguised by a holographic field that made it look like the same featureless marshes that surrounded it. A thorough investigation might easily pierce that deception, but Galder doubted anyone would check for a bandwagon of Dark Jedi on a hellish world such as Dordellus.

Kuylen had let on much more about himself than he had when Galder first met him. He had once been a Jedi Knight, and one of the finest swordsmen in the Order. He did not say exactly why he had fallen to the Dark-Side, but Galder decided it was because being a Jedi did not let him practice his skills as a warrior of his people more freely. Born in Tasker’s Crown, a Republican sector, he was a natural warrior, and skilled with any weapon, be it a lightsaber or an ancient ranged weapon known as a revolver pistol.

Galder had come to know the rest of his cohorts not nearly as well as he would have liked too. Kuylen had found and recruited each and every one of them into his organization, yet they were all somewhat apart from each other. There were nine of them, not including Galder and Kuylen, and each had the gift of the Force, and a high midichlorian count to boot.

The first three members liked to keep their pasts a secret and none of them knew how they met Kuylen, though they were the ones with the most obvious areas of expertise. Krisha, a human girl, was their number one saboteur, excellent with explosives and very competitive, but all together not too bright. Alik Saar, a Zabrak male, was Kuylen’s right-hand man, quite intelligent and skilled in a range of areas. His down side was that he was arrogant and obviously wanted to be on top of things, let alone severely paranoid. Chion, a eight-foot tall humanoid with albino skin tinged with blue by masses of veins, was the strongest and largest member of the group, and his strong point was killing things with his claymore-sized lightsaber.

The other seven were Dark Jedi from all walks of life, and only two of them had ever been Jedi, like Kuylen and Saar. Quam Ak-toh, the first ex-Jedi of the group, was a cold, sarcastic character who almost no one got along with, and had been stuck in warfare in the Outer Rim for a majority of his life after becoming a Jedi and leaving the Order. Dim was a strange and private Zabrak woman, once a Jedi but struck down and nearly killed in combat, now seeking her revenge on her attacker, and was rumored to be related to a notorious line of Zabrak bounty hunters. Bion Velcrose, who the others called Wraith, was a bounty hunter who had suffered a harsh life on the gladiatorial world of Tejere, pushed into the bloody games by his father. Dak Kaliero was a reptilian from the frigid world of Arnia and had traveled with a band of murderous marauders. Toolok Rah, a bizarre, green-skinned blue-striped humanoid with multiple sets of vocal chords, was the most athletic of them all, and had suffered too much in his past, as Galder had. An elderly man named Takuan Soho and a young girl named Edna were both extremely strong in the Force, though they came from completely different backgrounds. Takuan had been shunned by the community of his homeworld for murder, and was quiet and secluded. Edna had been in slavery but killed her owner in a burst of hatred, and was very emotion and very high on Kuylen’s list of people to favor.

Today Kuylen had scheduled them all for weapons practice, depending on what they were skilled with. The droid training room and gladiatorial arena was occupied for the rest of the day. Both rooms were packed with fun gear for them all; grenades, mines, spare lightsabers and vibroblades of various sorts, EMP guns, large knives, modified crossbows, rocket launchers, plasmathrowers, shield guns from Kuylen’s homeworld, and many ballistic weapons like revolvers, machine guns, and bolt-action rifles. The Dark Jedi had made room for themselves in the droid training room, which was meant more for target practice rather than for close combat fighting.

Kuylen picked up a revolver. “Now, who can tell me what this is?”

Quam raised his hand. “I can tell you. It’s a piece of junk.”

Kuylen rolled his eyes. “No. Anyone else?”

“A revolver, replace thousands of years ago by machine pistols, then blasters,” Takuan answered.

“Correct. Now, who can tell me why it was replaced?”

“Because, compared to modern technology, it was inaccurate and non-ammunition efficient.” This time is was Saar who answered. “Though outdated, the design is very portable and deadly on humanoid targets.”

“Correct again. Now, why don’t we carry these more often?”

“Because everything else is better?” Quam answered again.

“Actually, that is correct...” Kuylen replied. “The purpose of me telling you any of this is to get you acquainted with all the kinds of weaponry I have stocked up for your use. Most of the older weapons, like this revolver, have been modified. Newer weapons are usually rarer kinds in my armory, such as the shield guns from Tasker’s Crown. Now, make use of them. These droids are easy targets, and if you use guns often, I expect you to be able to hit them with revolvers easily.”

Galder picked up one of the simplistic revolvers. “How could anyone use this thing?”

“I’ll show you...” Kuylen pulled back the hammer with his thumb and pulled the trigger, the hammer shooting forwards and a bullet issuing from the barrel of the revolver. The bullet punched a deep hole in the outer skin of a droid that was the target. Five more shots embedded themselves inside the droid. “Droids are quiet immune to normal bullets, unless there are lots of them...”

“Like this?” Rah swiftly jumped behind a mini-gun that he had found in the armory and opened fire on the droid Kuylen had target. The droid was knocked backwards by the force of the hundreds of rounds Rah emptied into his target. Punctured by hundreds of bullets, the droid was swiveling back and forth, trying to stay activated.

“So what do these crossbows do?” Quam asked, pulling back the string. He let fly one crossbow bolt, which landed with a clank in the robot. Suddenly, there was a blue, sparking glow from the bolt, and the droid went limp, smoke rising from the circuitry. “Whoa, cool...”

Galder looked over the armory for a second, then chose a strange looking rifle with a large tank attached to it. “A plasmathrower, eh? Let’s try it...” He aimed at the droid that Quam had disabled and let forth a wave of intense plasmatic heat. Upon contact with the plasma, the droid’s outer skin began to grow red hot and melt from the frame.

“You’d hate to be on the other end of that barrel, wouldn’t you, Galder?” Rah asked, patting him on the back. Galder stopped pulling the trigger and simply watched as the plasma continued to scorch the droid.

“I would.” Galder put the plasmathrower back and examined some of the grenades that Kuylen had hoarded. Plasma grenades with similar workings to the plasmathrower sat on one shelf, Cryoban stick grenades on another. He looked around at the others, and noticed Kuylen beckoning Galder towards him.

“Quite a collection you have here, Kuylen,” Galder said, approaching his new leader.

Kuylen smiled and nodded. “Well, being a warrior myself, I enjoy using the most challenging weapons.”

Galder nodded in agreement. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

“Follow me.” Kuylen, with Galder in tow, left the droid training room, turned left in the partially complete corridor. They passed the dueling chamber on the way to the last door in the corridor. The door was wide open, yet it was completely empty. Scorch marks from lightsabers covered the walls and floor. Kuylen passed it without giving it a glance, and unlocked the last door. “Welcome, Galder, to the Fear Room.”

The room was small and simple, with a darkened glass barrier halfway across it obscuring his view of what was beyond. In front of the glass barrier was a pedestal with a small red button on it.

“Give it a push, Galder, and enjoy the effects.” Galder turned, back Kuylen was gone. He frowned, but turned to push the button. He cautiously looked around and tried to get a view of what was behind the glass, but could not see anything. Slowly he lowered his finger, pushing the button down. He lifted his finger quickly, to see what would happen.

“Nothing...” he muttered to himself, putting his hand at his side. He turned to leave, but a bizarre sight blocked the door. The figure was fair-haired and tan, wearing dark green camouflage with a heavy assault rifle strapped to his back. His flesh was slightly rotted looked, his eyes sunken and dull. A large gash went halfway through his chest, and a few blaster bolt wounded covered his legs.

“Matthias?” Galder asked, confused. “Matthias Doon? I thought you died on Naadal...”

“I did, Galder, and I blame you!” Matthias approached him, drawing a pistol as he drew closer. “If you had not parted from Rura and I, that Jedi would not have killed me...”

“And if you had not gone to train with Pazol, the Sand People would not have attacked...” said Thom Grisham, leveling a slugthrower rifle at him.

Galder started backing away, eyes wide. He bumped into something and turned around. A towering figure stood over him, similarly rotting and dressed in Jedi robes. Another female figure joined him. Both ignited lightsabers, one green and one pale blue, illuminating their stretched, pale skin.

“We did not mean for your life to go this way, Galder...” said the man.

“It has gone in a foul direction, and we must change it...” said the woman.

“Mother?! Father?!” Galder backed away from them and tripped over the pedestal. He hit the floor with a thud, and another person leaned over him.

“If you hadn’t killed me, I could have turned you in, and the Jedi would have mended your ways...” said the smuggler who he had murdered and stolen the ship of.

“Ahh!” Galder screamed, jumping to his feet and making his way to the door. “This can’t be happening!”

“Oh, but it is, Galder...” said an old man, dressed in a loose dark cloak. It was his former mentor, Pazol. He lit his own lightsaber, his throat slashed open. The Padawan that Galder had killed on Naadal stood behind him, sullen and decaying.

“No! Get away!” Galder used the Force to push Matthias aside and open the door. He jumped through and shut it behind him, locking it with the push of a button. He rubbed his temples. “What was that? Why am I seeing these people?” He looked off into the darkness of the cavern to his left, and heard the roar of an engine, rocks splintering under a heavy weight. A light shown in the darkness, and Galder took his magnatorch from his belt to see what it was. The looming shape of a scorched and broken-down Northern Naadal trooper transport rolled into the range of the magnatorch’s illumination, a headless soldier sitting at the quad. Dozens of corpse-like Rodians and Northern Naadal soldiers moved forwards in slow, quiet ranks, toting the weapons they had carried in life and into death. Each had wounds from blaster fire or lightsaber slashes, and they muttered his name. “Galder...Galder...”

“Get away!” Galder shouted, stumbling and turning to run. The quad hummed to life and fired, the corridor exploding as Galder dived head first into the dueling chambers. He locked that door behind him as well, then slumped against it, his eyes closed. Snap-hiss! He bolted upright, his father holding a lightsaber to his throat.

“Galder, your mother and I think it is in your best interest if you die...” Gathol Starkiller hissed. He pulled back his saber and prepared to stab, but Galder threw himself prone as it came forwards, piercing the door.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, honey, but your life is just dreadful, and your past in ruins...” Vanth Starkiller told her son, glaring at him with dull eyes, picking him up with the Force and pinning him against a wall. Galder clawed at the wall and the air, gasping for breath. When he felt he could no longer retain consciousness, he extended an arm and pushed his mother away with the Force. As he landed in a crouched position, he pulled out his two lightsabers, one red and the other...red? A quick glimpse at the hilt told him that it was not his father’s Jedi lightsaber, but instead it was black and rusted, with spikes jutting from the blade emitter at strange angles.

His parents charged him down, holding their lightsabers high and bringing them down in powerful strokes aiming to lop off Galder’s arms. He held the red blades crossed over his head, forced to one knee under the force of the attacks. The attack continued with several jabs, which Galder managed to parry. A Force-enhanced leap got him over their heads and their lightsabers sizzled into the slightly curved wall of the circular duelists’ room. He retreated from them, staying in the center of the room.

“No, please, stop! It is my path!” Galder begged, preparing for the oncoming blows. They came swiftly, his father aiming to behead him while his mother stabbed at his chest. Galder just narrowly twisted aside, his father’s blade catching his right arm and burning into it. A cry of pain emitted from Galder’s mouth and he retreated again. “If I cannot convince you otherwise, then...I‘ll...I will...”

Galder charged forwards, leaping with a shout of fury upon his mother, slashing down hard. She blocked, and spun quickly to riposte. Galder ducked under the blow and drove his attack home. Bzzt! His lightsaber plunged deep into his mother’s stomach, but her expressionless face did not change for a few moments. Then is contorted into a face that was terrible and hideous, and she screamed loudly before falling back and shattering against the floor. Horrified, Galder forgot about his father’s oncoming attack, and let the blade sink into his own stomach. The pain was quick and burning, his own scream just as terrible as his mother’s.

“Pathetic...you are not my son...” his father hissed angrily. He pulled his lightsaber back to behead Galder with one swift blow...

Bzzt! Galder, in a fit of rage, rose up and stabbed Gathol in the stomach. Vwoom! Vwoom! Galder lopped off his arms. Gathol’s face also knotted up into a hideous death mask, screaming inhumanly. Tears streamed down Galder’s face as he hacked again and again and again, leaving the screeching corpse in pieces on the floor. It would not stop, and he continued hacking, shouting angrily.

“Shut up! Shut up!” Galder seethed.

“I have no son...”

“Stop!” The corpse continued its death howl, no matter how many pieces Galder divided the body into.

He sensed another attacker behind him, expecting to see Matthias or the Padawan, the guilt tearing his mind apart. He spun and swung, his red blade clashing against a purple one. He stabbed again, but was easily parried. A hand extended, pinning Galder against the wall as Vanth had done. The same hand shot forwards, pushing a hypodermic into Galder’s neck. As the hypodermic injected its contents into his blood system, it felt as if the world was being sucked away from him, his brain oozing out through his ears. Everything went black for a moment, though he was still conscious. His vision returned, and he was sitting, drenched with sweat, slumped against the wall in the dueling chamber. Kuylen stood over him, his lightsaber still ignited.

“Galder, it is over...”

“What the...wha...I...” Galder stuttered, rising to a standing position. “Where’s...”

“Do not tell me what you saw or fought,” Kuylen said, raising a hand to silence him. “Just let me explain what happened to you.” Kuylen began pacing the floor of the room.

“My main problem when deciding to build a group of agents to compete against the Jedi was that of training. I can easily teach people how to use a lightsaber with expertise and the basics of contacting the Force, but I cannot possibly rival the training facilities offered by the Jedi Temple. I improvised. By fighting against each other or me with the possibility of death, I will enforce the survivalist edge in all of you. Combat practice against live targets in our arena who could kill you will give you the instincts of a fighter.

“But, though I am talented with the Force, I am no Jedi Master, and I cannot teach you to the secrets of creation. My wisdom does not match the Council’s. But, I created a solution to that problem...the Dark Side is, after all, quicker. If, of course, you know how to get in touch with it...”

Kuylen continued explaining that the Fear Room was a primitive but brutally effective solution to replace what for the Jedi is years of dull meditation and contemplation whilst they are children. The button in the Room contained a miniature hypodermic which flooded a person’s system with a chemical that causes a chain reaction in the brain, which in turn causes it to continually disgorge the chemical that causes fear, rendering the person incapable of experiencing anything else.

“Needless to say, the experience is incredibly unpleasant. Your worst possible nightmares come true, and you cannot escape them as your conscious brain shuts down and only your primordial fear is left. So far, no one has ever liked it. But...it doesn’t half put you in touch with the Dark Side. A slight amnesiac affect in the drug makes you forget what it does whilst you are using it. Of course, the problem with that is that you may press the button several times, having forgotten what it does and thinking it has done nothing. That is why...” Kuylen sprayed a bit of fluid out of the hypodermic he had. “...the hypodermics contain mood stabilizers...just in case. The drug might also effect some more than others, and I think it is that way with you.”

“Well, it certainly was...er...terrifying...” Galder said, wiping his brow with his hand. “Have you pushed it?”

“Yes, but I would rather not talk about what I experience...” Kuylen says. “Still, it is not like the Fear Room will make you a Sith. That is why I have bigger plans for all of you, on a much grander scale...”

Galder looked up towards the door, where his father had stabbed at him. There was no scorch mark, but instead the Dark Jedi of the group crowded around the door frame, staring at him curiously. Kuylen walked away from the still panicked Galder and joined them at the door.

“What the hell is wrong with him?” Quam asked, glaring at Galder.

“Nothing, now go about your business! I want to come into the Arena and see you all training!” He looked down at Quam. “You especially need to be training, Quam, as you will be joining me on Jaglon Beta to continue our operation...”

= Chapter 6 =

A man stood against a white light with a dreamy gaze on his face, his mind like iron. Tall, handsome, braided hair, trimmed beard...and a lightsaber.

A white light in the form of a sphere...a planet. A platform hovers above it, a laser beam coming forth and burning into the surface. On board the platform, another man stands there, ordering beings around. He is greeted by others. Then they are on the planet. A tall, black fortress-like building juts up from the surface, surrounded by masses of natural gold veins. Lightsabers clash violently...a black young man in Jedi robes attacks another in young man black civilian clothing...and then all is gone in a green light as the world around them crumbles...

Galder sat idly in his comfortable chair in his dark office, drifting in and out of sleep, the glowpanels turned down low. He had lost all contact with Kuylen yesterday, and Faylar, the popular dictator of the Damagran Confederacy, would not speak with him. Galder had one of those gnawing feelings that something had gone wrong, but for now he just contemplated.

He had known for some time that Kuylen had been working on a grand plan. Not too long ago, he sent Galder to the small platform hovering in orbit over a forgotten planet named Avalar. Eager to be of good use, Galder was placed in charge of security, to make sure things did not go wrong. Every month, mined gold from the planet would be sent to another planet nearby, where Kuylen was working. His new mentor made it very clear how important the shipments were, and that he needed lots of money to keep the pirates working for him. On top of that, Galder was not to visit Avalar under any circumstance.

Galder knew little of Kuylen’s plan, except that he had been using the pirate clan known as the Red Lance Clan to attack the Republic, and had been working a deal out with Faylar to enable him to take control of the thirteen planet Damagran Confederacy. In return, Faylar gave Kuylen the gold-mining platform that Galder currently stood on.

Until yesterday, everything had been going fine. But now, with no form of transportation to get off the platform and a crew of scared beings who jumped at every word he said, he was becoming agitated. He was now sitting, bored out of his mind, at his desk, flicking the communications to Kuylen on and off.

“Is Kuylen there yet?” he asked the comm unit.

“Sorry, this line is temporarily...”

He flicked it off, then on again. “Kuylen?”

“Sorry, this line is...”

Flick off. Flick on. “Kuylen?”

“Sorry, this...”

Flick off. Switch mode. Flick on. “Quint, status check?”

“Everything is normal,” came the reply over the comm unit, obscured slightly by the rough dialect of the Mon Calamari. “Laser is still operating at ninety-eight percent efficiency.”

“Any problems I should know of? Anyone I need to kill?”

“None.”

“Good. Keep it that way, Quint, or...you’ll answer to me!” Flick off. Galder turned to the view screen and observed the empty wastes of space beyond, the glowing white of the planet Avalar below him. It was a beautiful sight. The planet’s sun was near its death point, slowly swelling before the inevitable nova, which was still centuries off. The trail left by the sun was pulled in by Avalar’s gravity well, giving it the minerals that made mining there so profitable. “I’m so bored...” He turned back to the unit. Switch mode. Flick on. “Come on, Faylar, you bastard, answer me...” Galder waited for a moment, then flicked the comm unit off for the hundredth time that day. He tossed a training remote into the air and idly smacked away the numbing bolts without much thought. After a few minutes of this, he became bored and diced the device in half, tossing it into the pile with the other dozen remotes.

Suddenly, the comm crackled to life. Galder spun and flicked it on. A very quick message came through, then ended.

“Galder. Kuylen here. We're coming to Avalar inside the hour. Trouble is on our tail. Make sure everything is smooth. Out." In the background was the faint sound of exploding flak and warping metal, but Galder did not get to listen long.

Galder went back to contemplating Kuylen’s plans. Faylar had built the platform purely to get at the gold hidden in the rocks and ice. Kuylen, however, wanted something else on the surface, something of archaeological importance. Yet, Galder knew nothing of it.

Kuylen wanted it very badly, but there was no way to get it without working with Faylar. Even if he could take the platform by force, Faylar would simply send large ships to destroy it. Rather than face destruction, Kuylen made a deal. Faylar was launching his bid to take control of the Confederacy. Kuylen, along with Quam, Edna, Krisha, and Chion, had been working flat-out to help Faylar achieve his goal. Recently, things seemed to have succeeded. Damagran and the other dozen worlds were now on the brink of declaring independence from the Republic. In return for Kuylen’s help, Faylar had let him use the platform and have whatever it is Kuylen was interested in on the surface.

Something about it made the hairs on his neck prickle. Galder realized that it had never been or ever would be a happy alliance, and that none of them had ever liked Faylar. Too power-hungry, even for Galder’s tastes. “I have a bad feeling about this...” he muttered to himself.

As Kuylen had said, three ships roared out of hyperspace within the hour, landing on the platform. One ship was Quam’s a sleek, black craft with two wings that was packed full of factory extras, and it had taken one or two recent cannon hits. The second was the sleek, small, simplistic ship that belonged to Krisha, covered with a chromium finish. Last but not least was Kuylen’s modified Hutt corvette, covered in scorch marks from old and recent hits. The hull was patched up in several places, but everything else still worked. The Dark Jedi marched out of them. Edna followed behind Kuylen, who moved forwards to greet Galder.

“Greetings, Master Kuylen,” Galder said with a slight bow. “What news from Damagran?”

“Faylar and the Red Lance have betrayed us,” Kuylen said briskly. “We shall have to deal with them later, but now I must inform you all of why, exactly, I wanted this platform at all...”

And so Kuylen began to tell the tale of the ancient Sith Monastery of Avalar. Thousands of years ago, Avalar was the site of a Sith Monastery. The Dark Monks who lived here sought to teach others in the Sith ways. To that end, they began the huge task of codifying the Sith laws. Every single Sith rule, every piece of lore, every single piece of forbidden Sith knowledge was painstakingly recorded and written down in the archives of the Avalar Monastery. During the last Sith War, the Jedi never found Avalar, though they suspected its existence. But a far worse fate awaited the monks.

The Sith never were the best team players, and the notorious Darth Bane's faction of the Sith objected to the blatant codifying of rules that he insisted should be handed down by word of mouth. In a vast battle, Bane's army stormed the Avalar temple and killed all the monks within. They left the temple a ruin, but rumor had it that they did not destroy the archive because it was written on tablets sacred to the Sith. They left it hidden, instead, which worked well. Without the terraforming technology that the monks had brought, the fortress on Avalar froze over. No-one ever found it. The Sith Archive of Avalar now existed only as a piece of Jedi theory.

“But, that has now changed. We have found it. And after years of slow excavation of the ice by the vast laser that is built into this mining platform, the Archive is almost completely exposed!” Kuylen told them all with a hint of excitement. “Every secret, every piece of knowledge! The power of the Sith is just waiting...” He gazed dreamily at the planet, and Galder suddenly had a flashback of the dream he just had. “Waiting down there for us...all we need to do now is to reach out and grasp it. The Sith may be extinct, but after this, it will be, for once, that the Jedi shall shudder at your names.” He gazed into the white glow of the icy world again. “Are you all ready?”

The Dark Jedi all nodded, though Galder sensed a bit of hesitance from Krisha, the saboteur. Lots of confusion and anger came from her, and he knew that everyone had been against her recently. Of all the Dark Jedi in the group, he hated Quam most, but Krisha was just dumb. Pretty to look at, but dumb just the same.

Edna, on the other hand, was quite smart. Galder could sense the anticipation coming from her young mind quite easily. “Welcome to Avalar, m’lady,” he said, getting her attention. She nodded in return with a slight grin, then followed Kuylen to the shuttle.

“Sure you’re ready for this, Galder?” Quam asked, eyeing Krisha as she wandered off. “This will be quite amazing, even to such an experienced person as yourself...”
Galder stared off into space at the glowing ball that was Avalar, thinking about his past experiences with the Force, and deciding that it was now time for him to make full use of his talents. “Yes, Quam, I am sure...”

<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>

The Dark Jedi entered the ice cavern that led to the inside of the Monastery, vast statues of long forgotten Sith Lords and Sith Monks brimming with ancient powers from the inside. It was an eerie feeling, and the Dark Jedi were all pondering this as they slipped quickly through a breech in the thick defenses of the Monastery’s black outer walls. Much of the fortress was still trapped under ice, but the breech would lead them into the heart of the Monastery easily. The skies of Avalar were a dark, deep red as the day was nearing its end, the dying sun setting behind the fortress, giving it an eerie aura of foreboding.

Galder took it all in, and was examining the high-walled fortifications surrounding the area. He found them interesting as they were designed to withstand saber assaults from Jedi Knights. They were all roofed, with thin slits in the middle and top, wide enough to admit a lightsaber but not a man. It would greatly discourage those who would have sought to climb the fortifications, and prevent anyone from Force jumping over the top. There were long saber marks on the walls where the battle took place millennia ago.

Kuylen extended his hand and used the Force to pull a switch on the inside of the gate leading inside the fortress, causing it to slowly swing open, without the slightest bit of noise. Amazingly, the Monastery was still powered after all these millennia.

“Most of the Monastery is still breeched, but we will have to pass the mirror tests again to get inside,” Kuylen alerted them.

“Again?” Galder asked. “Mirror test?”

Edna filled him in. “During the earlier excavation work, we went through these tests that were designed, simply, to stop Sith acolytes progressing into the inner parts of the fortress until their training was sufficiently advanced.”

“Now they perform a very useful function for us, and only allow those on the Dark Side through them, so the Jedi cannot follow us,” Quam added.

“They are simple, almost childish tests that often involve a mirror version of yourself or your friends,” Edna continued. “To pass, you simply have to display instincts and thoughts of a true Dark Jedi. No learner and certainly no Jedi can pass through the mirror tests. There is no penalty for failing, but you aren’t going to go anywhere if you do fail.”

“And we all have to do them alone,” Quam added again. “Can’t even hold hands without Sith magic messing with your mind...”

“Not that I wanted you holding my hand anyway, Quam...” Edna snapped.

The Dark Jedi now faced the Great Hall. Kuylen strode forwards, frowning, then looked around.

“Has anyone seen Krisha?”

“I haven’t seen her since we entered the Monastery...” Galder said, looking around for any sign of an annoying, black-jump-suit-wearing Dark Jedi.

“Chion?” Kuylen asked. The massive albino merely shrugged.

“Was she actually on the shuttle?” No reply. “Well, there's no time to do anything about her now.” They all followed him into the Great Hall, where two grand staircases lead of to either side. But Kuylen and the others knew the secret entrance between the two. The door yielded to another Force push from Kuylen, and they entered, facing the mirror tests.

They were not literally mirrors. Instead, they were large black hemispheres with the hollow side facing all the Dark Jedi. Kuylen entered quickly, but Quam sat and waited for the others to go through.

“After you!” Edna said, motioning for Quam to go through.

“Tsk tsk, Edna, have you learned anything yet? Fear is your ally, not your enemy!” Quam sneered, sarcastic as usual. “Go on and show the master how you’ve grown...” Edna shot a glare of scorn at him, then entered her test. Quam entered his. And, taking a deep breath to try and throw off the case of heebie-jeebies that he was suffering from, Galder entered his.

Everything went dark, except for the strange spotlight that surrounded Galder and another figure. It was a man in Sith robes, his hood up to hide his face. The man confidently threw his hood back and dismantled his robe. Galder stared with disbelief as he stared at himself. The other man was none other than him, and the other him looked definitely more Sith-like. He ignited his lightsabers promptly, the red one closer to the color of blood, the green one a bit more sickly. Galder ignited his lightsabers as well, noticing how bright they were in the eerie darkness, and prepared for the oncoming attack that the other Galder started. It rushed to attack, but Galder parried and tried to return the favor. The double let out an inhuman shout as his blade sizzled through its arm, but grinned in a twisted way. He returned a slash, which Galder dodge by flipping over his double’s head. A jab to the back was blocked by a swift maneuver.

My double seems to block in a very predictable manner... All I have to do is wait for my chance to slip past his guard... Galder thought. He jumped at the double with an almighty strike. The double leaped at him and kicked him in the gut in midair, but the lightsaber singed his already wounded arm. Another inhuman shout.

“Let me pass you ghost!” Galder yelled angrily, tired of fighting himself. Galder struck with his infamous scissor strike, aiming to snip off the clone’s head with his lightsabers, but the clone stuck his green lightsaber firmly in the middle of the scissor.

After a few moments, Galder had figured out the fight. The double continuously kept going back into the same sequence of moves, almost as if preprogrammed. Galder tried the almighty leaping slash again, and the clone kicked him in midair again. Another scissor strike was attempted, but the clone blocked it again in the same exact way. As soon as he began his next cycle, Galder simply made a move that the double had not seen him perform yet, spinning wildly and slashing all over the place. Galder’s right blade sliced cleanly though one of his lightsabers, and the mirror image seemed so surprised by this that Galder quickly cut through the other one as well.

Galder stood there, high on adrenaline, strained, and full of rage. The double stood there with a grim look upon its face, and it seemed to be waiting for something. Galder then realized what the test was about. It was searching his being for anger, a Dark Side emotion. If he could be angry enough to strike down his defenseless opponent, then he would pass. Grinning at his cleverness, he swiftly beheaded the spirit...and the blade simply passed through him as if it were a hologram.

“Well done,” said the double in a voice that was not Galder‘s, and disappeared. The hemisphere turned about and cast Galder out into another chamber of the Monastery. This room was actually a small hallway, icicles drooping from the ceiling. Galder nearly slipped on the icy floor and kicked one of the chunks of ice angrily. He opened the door at the end of the hallway, leading into the Sith computer bank. The temperature was frigid, and Galder rubbed his arms and pulled his jacket around him tightly.

Kuylen was feverishly looking at the files contained within the computer. Behind Galder, Quam emerged from his test, muttered “Finally...,” and approached Kuylen at the computer. “You getting anything? Or do you need help with that?” Quam asked, reaching into his robes for a data stick.

“This isn’t exactly what we are looking for,” replied Kuylen. “Just some computer databank. Lots of history, but nothing you can’t get from the Temple on Coruscant. But take a look at some of this encoded information...”

Galder and Quam peered over Kuylen’s shoulders, viewing files that were heavily encrypted and damaged to boot. “It could take a while to reconstruct them but it is easy to see what they are...” Quam said, rubbing his chin.

“Star charts,” Kuylen added. “Millennia out of date but we can adjust them. If we can decode those we could find the locations of a dozen other Sith sites in the galaxy, maybe more.”

“Do you mind if I give it a try?”

“Give it a go," said Kuylen. "But don't take too long. We have to find what we are really here for... maybe we should just download the lot and see what we can make of it later." Chion came ambling through, having finished his mirror test. Edna emerged from her own hemisphere shortly afterwards with a sense of triumph and a smile on her face.

“Right, where to now?” she asked with a grin.

“Hello Edna,” Kuylen said, keeping his eye on Quam. “Quam is working on the computer, and we still need to find the way into the Archive... it must be around here somewhere...”

“So what do you want me to do?”

Kuylen suddenly wheeled around to face Edna and grabbed her by the shoulders. "Everything in here is operated by the Force," he said with slight desperation. "You find it. You have the finest instinct of any I know. Let your emotions flow and guide us to the right place..."

Edna was taken aback by this, staring at Kuylen with a look that showed that she obviously thought Kuylen was losing it. Kuylen returned the stare quite seriously. Then she turned to the room, focusing but being overwhelmed by a certain fear that Galder could sense. A natural at using the Force, she clung onto this emotion and used it to her advantage. She probed the room with her mind...searching...hunting...

“This is where the monks made their last stand,” Kuylen informed them. “The presence of so many dead Sith has empowered this place. Everyone. Guard your minds against the presences here and use them to your advantage. This place was built for people like us! Edna, you can do it! You must!” The Dark Jedi were a little unnerved by the near desperation in his voice, but nonetheless started to focus as well. Galder could sense the presences, and they were not friendly. They resented the Dark Jedi being there at all.

And then...success. “You’ve found it? Over there?” Kuylen asked.

Edna nodded, “It’s a metaphorical switch...but...I can’t quite...turn it...”

“Help her, everyone!” Kuylen ordered. “Quickly!” Kuylen stood by her side and reached his arms out, adding his power to hers. Chion walked to her side as well, though his contribution was weak. Galder marched up next to Chion and began to feel for the switch. The metaphorical switch was budging slightly. Quam was still at the computer, but joined them after downloading the last bits of the scrambled star maps onto two data sticks. He hesitantly added to the power of the Dark Jedi.

Suddenly, with all of them standing in a line, reaching out for the way in, there was a strong pulse of energy in the Force. The wall ahead of them disappeared, being replaced with what looked like a vast black area of nothingness. On closer inspection, as their eyes adjusted, it was actually a chasm. The five of them had disabled the mind trick that created the presence of the wall.

Kuylen walked to the edge of the chasm and gingerly poked his lightsaber handle around in the empty air. Tap! Tap! He tapped his lightsaber on something solid in the middle. An invisible force field bridge that spanned the chasm, thin and scary to use, but perfectly solid, was there. Galder mashed up some ice in his hand and threw the powdered snow on it just to be sure, then followed behind Kuylen as he continued on.

The Dark Jedi were led down, down, down, and still down, into the depths of the darkness of the Monastery. At the bottom of the narrow invisible, they walked into a narrow yet tall room. It was difficult for them all to fit inside, especially with Chion.

“Welcome to the Archives,” Kuylen told them all. The room was a very high cylinder, at least one hundred feet, both only a few meters across. Everything was made of stone, and in bookcases lining the edge of the room, stretching all the way up, were thousands of stone tablets. The tablets seemed completely blank, but Kuylen experimented with them for a moment, pressing his hand to the back of it. On the blank side, ancient Sith hieroglyphics lit up in pale green. “I had stolen the texts we need to decode this Sith writing when I was the Chief Archivist at the Temple, but it will take a long while.” Galder knew that becoming a Sith would not have been fast, and that lots of study would ensue.

That is, if they succeeded, which was far from certain. There were thousands of tablets, and it would take ages to shift the lot of them with only the bags that Kuylen had given them upon entry. Kuylen and Chion were already filling bags, and the rest of them began to do the same. With only portions of the Archive, Galder doubted anyone would try to split from Kuylen after this. It would take many visits to get it all out nonetheless.

Suddenly, Kuylen comlink started beeping. He switched it on and listened to a report from the Twi’lek pilot that flew his Hutt corvette. She seemed a tad concerned, and so did Kuylen.

“Damn, the Jedi have arrived at the platform,” he said. “But it’s worse than that, apparently half the Damagran fleet is with them. They must have called in back-up. And the pirates are there. They want to destroy the platform as well.” Kuylen completed filling his bag, then headed out. “I’m just checking the computer banks again.”

“Well, that’s not good,” Galder said gloomily. “The pirates are here to do a number on everyone, Damagran is here for the gold, and the Jedi are here for us.”

“We can deal with them quickly,” Quam assured. “I have special plans for one of them...”

“If we are quick enough, the battle up top won’t matter,” Edna said, filling her sack. “Just get the tablets!”

Galder finished stuffing his sack and went up after Kuylen. Their leader was standing in the hallway near the computer control room.

“Do they have a ship?” Kuylen asked the pilot via comlink. “Do they? Well, get closer and tell me! I don’t care. I...” Kuylen stopped and just looked up through the great crack in the ceiling. Galder followed his gaze and just made out an indistinct shape coming down through the darkening atmosphere. Kuylen turned to Galder. “The Damagran fleet brought them an adapted transport. Sloppy security from Faylar...” He returned to his comlink. “Forget the platform, get out of the battle zone. When we are ready to come up you can pick up our shuttle directly. No one will notice a damn thing in the middle of this war zone. Kuylen out.” He turned back to Galder again. “Kill the Jedi and we are done.”

“Yes, Kuylen,” Galder said with a slight salute.

“But be cautious about it,“ Kuylen advised. “You run out there they’ll team up and slaughter you. We have to play this smart... wait until they are disoriented by trying to take the mirror tests. The Jedi won’t be able to get past those and will be totally confused!

“I’m checking the computer records again. There may be a few other passages left I can try to surprise them from...” Kuylen returned to the computer and poured over the information.

Galder nodded and went to stand by the mirror test that he had taken before. Upon entering it, all went black as before, but nothing happened. He heard the Jedi talk for a moment then approach the tests. Galder could not see where they were, let alone where the other Dark Jedi were. A diabolical laughter echoed around him, sudden and quick. It faded away, but left Galder facing his opponent. A Jedi.

= Chapter 7 =

The Jedi was dark-skinned and very tall, his eyes a piercing brown and his hair short and black. The cloak wrapped around his shoulders was a brownish-green, the Jedi tunic underneath a combination of tans and grays. A blaster pistol was holstered at his side, and a lightsaber hung from his belt. Galder felt that this man was familiar to him, but was unsure.

The Jedi walked through the darkness, wondering where he was. There seemed to be a dappled light of pale green, rather than the spotlight that had focused on Galder and his double. He had not yet seen Galder, but then a ray of dappled light revealed Galder’s location. The Jedi blinked, reacting as if he had been looking straight through his new adversary before, and then realized that Galder was no Sith spirit.

Immediately after making eye contact, both him and the Jedi ignited their lightsabers, Galder reaching for only his red lightsaber, the Jedi reaching for his pale blue lightsaber. Galder could sense of sort of balance between the two of them; both were highly competent warriors, both with a warrior’s instinct, the Jedi’s calm and focused precision matching Galder’s furious and dangerous anger.

The Jedi obviously sensed anger from him, easily reading his emotions. “Why do you fight with anger? I can feel it radiating off of your body. I wish you no harm, but if I must fight you, I will." The Jedi lifted his lightsaber into a high guard, ready to defend against his opponent.

“So be it.” Galder flipped a switch on the hilt of his green lightsaber, activating it and locking it on. He hurled it with all his might at the Jedi, who attempted to duck under it. A quick flash of the Jedi’s lightsaber deflected the thrown blade, but it was heavier a blow than expected, and the Jedi staggered back. Galder pushed home with a few swift strokes, the red crackling against blue.

“You think you’re some hot shot, don’t ya?” Galder asked. “I’ve been plagued by Jedi like you all my life.” He smacked his blade into the Jedi’s a few times dully, then tried to skewer the Jedi. The Jedi retreated from the blow but then struck out to deflect another jab.

“Well, that’s your problem,” the Jedi said.

“Ah, but you do not know what it is like to be constantly hunted for having different beliefs...” Galder said, trying to lull the Jedi into feeling sorry for him. “Jedi on Naadal, Jedi on Hoth, Jedi on...”

“Did you say Hoth?” The Jedi took a step back and stared at Galder. “That was where my master was slain. Now I know where I saw you before...”

Galder stared back, and the familiarity he had felt earlier came to him again. He grinned maliciously. “Ah, little Lance Windu, the orphaned Padawan of Master Jeqaur Rar. I remember you well. So helpless and lost after I struck down your master, running like a retreating soldier through the snow storm and back to your ship...” Galder engaged Lance in a few quick blow. The blades locked and Galder got in Lance’s face. “Maybe you shall be joining your master...” he hissed.

Lance pushed Galder away and then charged him down. Galder could sense some anger from the Jedi as he advanced quickly and slashed many times. Each stroke fell harder and harder, but then he let up before Galder could capitalize on the anger and unfocussed attack. In this brief pause, Galder called his green lightsaber back to him.

“No...” Lance shook his head. “I will not let the Dark Side take hold of me...” The quick volley had caught Galder off-guard and there were minor cuts on his arms, dealt to him as his speedy advance had been reversed. Galder was now pressed against the edge of the hemisphere, the dappled light still trickling down from nowhere.

“You do not know the power of the Dark Side,” Galder spat back at him. Galder leaped, kicked off the hemisphere, and flipped over Lance’s head with a slight slash. Lance spun around, his spin and Galder’s flip perfectly timed, a resounding clash and flash as the lightsabers met. Galder’s red blade slid lightly across Lance’s clothing, and the Jedi backed off into a guard position.

Lance began a series of slashes and cuts designed to confuse the Dark Jedi. As he did this, he pressed forwards, forcing Galder to move backwards to an open area for the fight. Galder strafed and blocked, then hit Lance in the head with a slight kick. Lance, being taller, shrugged off the kick that Galder had launched from farther down easily and continued his assault. The darkness still surrounded them, the green light still stippling, but a door of green glowing light opened behind them, and Galder was pushed through it.

Galder was pushed back until he had entered the Great Hall. Realizing his better ability to maneuver, he flipped up and over the railing of the balcony above, dropping a grenade down behind him and throwing his red lightsaber. Lance threw himself to the side to avoid the explosion, then used the Force to push away the lightsaber into a new vector. Galder easily pulled it back, but then noticed Lance leaping up and over his head, slashing for his face. Galder threw himself back down over the railing, the blow missing him by mere inches.

Galder hit the floor with a loud thud, and he looked up to see Lance. The Jedi glimpsed at him, thinking that he could leap down and finish the Dark Jedi off. Galder reached up and used the Force to break icicles from the ceiling, sending a hail of sharp objects down upon his foe. Lance flung himself to one side and rolled down the right-side stairs shortly before the explosion of stone, ice, and dust.

“Getting tired?” Galder snarled, leaping into the air and bringing his two lightsabers down upon Lance’s arms. Lance swung in an arc and smashed the blades all together in one heap of clashing light, then rolled to the right.

“Not in the least,” Lance replied, spinning his blade idly while coming at Galder. He feinted a jab for the head and altered the path of his blade towards Galder’s side. Galder swung his blades around to deflect both, but lost his focus a bit due to uncontrolled fury. Then he turned and locked Lance’s blade in a firm grip with his own. He twisted them a certain way, causing the lightsaber’s hilt to flip out of Lance’s hand. It shut off quickly as it clattered away, but Lance was agonizingly out of Galder’s reach as he flipped away and called the blade back to him.

Then Lance attacked again. He charged once more, then dropped low in a sliding kick, catching Galder’s shin and throwing him to the ground. Lance leaped up and struck at Galder’s chest or stomach, whichever was closer. Galder rolled, then made a quick decision. I’m getting tired, and it doesn’t look like he is. He took a glimpse at the door through which they had come, the darkness and dappled light still shining.

Suddenly, the Monastery started to shake and judder. Loud whining noises filled their ears, coming from outside. Cracks appeared throughout the building, caused by the quickly melting ice and buckling floors. The mining laser! Someone’s turned it on the Monastery! Galder realized with desperation. Lance kept his balance and began his approach again. This will complicate things... Seeing no hope of winning the battle, Galder turned and ran at full speed back into the darkness, snatching up his bag of tablets as he went.

The mirror test shut off due to the laser’s destruction of the something in the Monastery, and Galder leaped through a crack in the dark walls. Jedi were appearing out of no where by now, some of them following him through the crack, as Lance was doing. Racing ahead of the Jedi, he ran into Quam and Chion, a young Jedi pressed between them.

“Who’s this?” Galder asked.

“Yerssot Rancume,” Quam hissed. “He’s mine...” The Monastery gave a rumble and shook, and Quam hissed again. “Turn around! We’re leaving!”

“But the Archive...”

“Go!”

The Dark Jedi moodily turned and marched together, all of them carrying sacks of tablets. “Kuylen said we’ve gotten an incredibly small portion of the Archive, but it will suffice for now. Someone is going to pay for this...”

It was difficult going through the rubble-strewn corridors, the fortress shaking and rumbling as the laser bored into it. Nonetheless, the Dark Jedi found a route through, and marched face to face with two Jedi, Lance Windu and Master Kellan Gundark, the leader of the Jedi Knights who had come after them. Chion had fallen behind, and they did not notice him.

Lance leaned to the higher ranking Jedi Master. “Master, what do we do now? We must rescue friend Yerssot from their clutches. He means good but...”

Lance cut off, eyeing Galder, who had his red lightsaber activated. Quam had done nothing, and Yerssot was unarmed, carrying the two heaviest sacks. Finally, the Jedi yelled to his friend Yerssot. “My friend, you may want to get out of the way and let us take care of our business. I don’t want you in harm’s way, even if you are crossed over...”

Master Gundark put a hand on Lance’s arm to silence him. “Yerssot,” she commanded, trying not to cough because of the dust. “Drop what you are carrying and leave. Now.”

Quam now moved forwards, looking at Master Gundark with a charming smile, a sight rarely seen by Galder. “Gundark... so we finally meet again. I have felt your presence so often lately that I longed to see your pretty face again...” He stepped closer, his black robes wrapped around him, hiding what Galder knew was his Tommy blaster. “I have long been waiting for this moment... I hope the same goes for you...

“Gundark, join me. You know your destiny lies with me. The boy here...” Quam gestured to Yerssot, “has already chosen wisely...”

“So confident are you as to bend your will upon me?” Gundark spoke, her angelic face glaring at Quam. “Your twisted manipulation of his destiny will bring you failure. He is trained as a Jedi Knight, to uphold peace and truth. Your hold on him is weak at best."

"Leave my friend alone and go find some weak fool that you can manipulate the way you want to,” Lance added, igniting his lightsaber with grim determination.

"My hold suffices for my purposes with him.," Quam smoothly countered. "His dark destiny lies in his own hands now. His Jedi training is the true failure here. But you can correct that failure... with me." He looked to Lance and his lit blade, and smiled confidently. "Much fear I sense in you, Jedi. Much fear..." He turned back to Master Gundark once more. “What is it going to be? We don’t have much time...” A chunk of the wall collapsed behind them, nearly landing on Galder.

"He is goading you, Lance," Gundark explained. "You will use your lightsaber only if attacked. Only for defense." She focused now on Quam. “You survive on hate and revenge," she stated flatly. "You are driven by rage and ruled by corruption. My destiny will never be a part of that darkness." She thought to herself for a moment, a tinge of worry and sadness picked up by Galder’s senses.

"Spare me the pious sermons, Gundark. You know better than to see things just black-and-white." Quam gave her a meaningful glance, the smile fading quickly. Galder’s danger sense blared as another section of the wall gave way. "And you young Jedi, you have much to learn about fear. Especially your own fears. And as for Yerssot, it is too late for him...”

“Quam, we need to leave,” Galder said to him as yet another chunk of wall fell. Chion approached from behind, his face still deadpan. Quam nodded in agreement.

Several things happened in quick succession. Quam drew his Tommy blaster in one smooth motion and fired at the ceiling above the Jedi, and at the Jedi, backed up by Galder’s twin pistols. Lance rushed forwards to stop Quam as Gundark deflected the bolts away, but Chion suddenly darted forwards with surprising speed, igniting his huge lightsaber and blocking the blow from Lance. Gundark pulled back, followed by Lance and another Jedi.

The Monastery began to implode rapidly as both teams came tearing out of the ancient structure. A screaming whir of falling metal, intense cold rushing past the deactivated force field, and the mining laser blasting directly through the icy roof of the Monastery.

There was no time to stop one another from reaching the Dark Jedi’s shuttle or the Jedi’s transport as large explosions erupted from the Monastery. Yerssot was well guarded all the way to the shuttle by the three of them, Quam’s blaster to his head and Chion’s lightsaber still activated.

As they boarded the shuttles, there was time for one more exchange of glares between Quam and Gundark, Galder and Lance before the doors closed. Quam, as ever, gave a disturbing smile and a slight wink, returned by Gundark’s solemn face. Galder glared with hatred, while Lance kept his emotions hidden. The doors slid closed, and the shuttle screamed painfully through the air and emerged into space.

A vast space battle had been occurring during the events on the surface of the planet. A Damagran battleship cruised through space, repelling the starfighters of the Red Lance pirates. The battle wrapped up as the shuttle rendezvoused with Kuylen’s Hutt corvette, the pirates miserably crushed but the Damagran navy cluttered with vast losses. The mining platform began to lose its orbit, descending into the atmosphere of Avalar, perhaps on top of the remains of the Monastery.

Galder stared sadly through the viewport as the mining platform began to fall, set ablaze by heaving crossfire and direct hits. From this distance, he could not see that his office was no longer there, but assumed it just the same. Avalar still shined with its brilliance, a reminder of Galder’s dream and what could have been a quick path to glorious Sith-hood.

As he watched, he noticed the black-and-chromium starship owned by Krisha escaping from the platform...

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Light years away from Avalar, in the depths of space, Kuylen’s corvette glided through space, Quam’s custom starship and Galder’s Star Viper resting within the hangar, alongside Kuylen’s four-man Jedi craft. The Dark Jedi remained moody and deprived of the true power that they could have attained, but Kuylen met them on the bridge soon after loading what portion of the Archive they had managed to grab into the cargo hold of his four-man Jedi craft. Edna’s mind radiated sorrow, Quam’s simply sarcastic as usual, Galder feeling angry, and Chion‘s emotions masked with the deadpan glare. Yerssot’s confused mind added to the assortment of emotions

It seemed to Galder that the twinges of doubt that were affecting Kuylen before had gone. Kuylen stared into space from the bridge of his corvette, then turned to address them. “I have heard a rumor,” he said. “I understand there is talk of a Sith warrior, spotted on the planets Tatooine and Naboo. He is meant to have engaged some Jedi there. It sounds...unlikely...” Galder thought with a numb feeling that it was highly unlikely. The Sith have been extinct for a millennium, of course! he thought. Otherwise we would not have dared plunder their Archive on Avalar...

"I intend to go to these two planets, to check for myself. I will leave immediately. I have orders for the rest of you.

"Our former friend Faylar has taken control of the Damagran Confederacy. With Damagran independent, the Republic's interest should have ended. But the Supreme Chancellor has made an unexpected move, and ordered a blockade of Damagran itself. This is an odd play for him... but it does not matter. Faylar is our concern

"We are a risk to Faylar. He will constantly strive to eliminate us. He also knows far too much about our operations. It is possible he will even do a deal with the Republic to strike against us. More importantly, he betrayed us. He must be shown what a traitor can expect.

"You will go to Damagran and eliminate Faylar. I will return to aid you as soon as I can; I am sure you will do your best before then. I don't care what happens to Damagran itself, I just want that gutless cur eviscerated."

Kuylen, with much of the archive in his ship, left soon afterwards. His Twi’lek pilot went with him. He left the rest of the Dark Jedi in command of the corvette, and his plan for getting them past the blockade.

Chion, as ever, was smiling.

= Chapter 8 =

The Dark Jedi rested just outside the escape pod that Quam had landed in the fetid jungle. Damagran was warm, and the Dark Jedi decided to stop for a moment to take a breather.

“Well, now what? We made it past the blockade...” Galder fiddled with his assault rifle, sitting on a log just left of Quam’s pod. Galder did not enjoy Damagran in the least. They had already been shot down by the Republic blockade of the thirteen-planet strong Confederacy, and numerous mosquito-like insects had already bitten him. The others had unanimously voted him the carrier of supplies. Therefore, along with his usually supplies and the addition of several food capsules, he was also given the group’s locater, the electrocompass, and macrobinoculars.

“According to the map, we are fifty miles north of K’rra Chi, somewhere in the Coroa Jungle...” Quam told him, laying on the comfortable padded bench inside the pod, studying a holographic map of the area. “We need to march those fifty miles to K’rra Chi...”

“What’s at K’rra Chi?” Yerssot, the wayward Knight, asked.

Quam hissed at him to hold his tongue. “If you must know, we are here to kill Faylar. He was once our ally, but never our friend...”

“He knows too much about us, and he’s betrayed us, so he must have the debt repaid...in person.” Edna stood on the edge of the river next to the landing point, where her pod had come down in a splash of water and steam.

Galder slung his rifle over his back. “Well, getting off the planet will be difficult, but it’s a trivial thing. First, Faylar. Shall we be on our way?”

“Yes, but keep in mind that there are two sides to this Civil War that Damagran is waging,” Edna told them. “They may be pro- or anti-Republic, but they are both anti-us.”

Quam jumped out of his pod and looked around the humid jungle. Knowing the climate already, he had traded his robes for a simple black tunic, sleeveless, somewhat like Galder’s. His gray-skinned arms were lean and muscular, a band wrapped around his right wrist. His was carrying his Tommy blaster, but another, long-ranged and destructive portable cannon was strapped on his back. “What a crappy place this is. Thank you, Kuylen!” He turned to his hostage Jedi. “You’d better stay close, Yerssot. One mistake and you die.”

“Sure thing,” Yerssot murmured with a roll of the eyes. “Show us the way, oh great leader...”

“You’re improving,” Quam said with equal sarcasm.

The group made their way through the forest. Quam took the locater from Galder and picked up scores of detection sensors surrounding the city of K’rra Chi for miles. “They were probably dropped by air over the jungle to try and track incoming Loyalist forces who might want to try and retake K’rra Chi,” Quam told them. “It just previously was a Loyalist city, and is now Confederate headquarters.” They all agreed to take the difficult route out of the range of the sensors to keep from being detected early on.

Galder kept watch on Yerssot, assault rifle to his back. Huge, rubbery-looking trees surrounded them on both sides as the group got away from the river, discovering with the sensor that there were sensors placed in it to detect those who might want to use boats to get to the city. Snakes slithered around these trees, and large amphibious creatures devoured the strange bluish-red fruits hanging from the trees. The damp ground was sloppy and brown, rocks and stones scattered throughout the mud.

“Why do you keep watch on me?” Yerssot asked Galder. “Don’t trust me?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Too afraid of me?”

“Definitely not afraid of a wayward Knight, now shut your trap before I blow it off...”

After awhile they found that the sensors in the water had discontinued, but thickened up ahead on the land. "We must be cautious. Now,“ Quam pointed towards the trees in front of them as far as they could see, "K'rra Chi is over there, but it looks like detection sensors are all over the place. That way", he explains, "is the river. I think we should try that. Going under water from time to time, may get us there unnoticed. Unless you prefer to barge in."

“If you don’t want tubby here to get his head blown off, I think that is the best choice...” Yerssot spoke up. Suddenly, he stopped as Quam made a slight squeeze with the Force on his throat.

Quam continued. “K’rra Chi is a port, and it was an amphibious landing that captured it. The river will guide us to the port, but where it joins with the city it will be more heavily guarded; if we follow the river we will have to decide when to stop following it, lest we wander straight into a security patrol.”

“We should get there by nightfall, easier to move into a city with darkness...” Edna added, moving towards the river. Chion plodded along after her. Upon approaching the river, they waded in. Galder, focusing on deactivating his weapons lest they by fried by the brackish water, tripped and landed in the water with a splash.

“Keep it down!” Quam shushed. “They don’t know we’re are here yet, but if you don’t keep it down, they will...” Yerssot snottily put his AA-9 Aqua-breather into his mouth, then waded in. He put a finger to his mouth to hush Galder and went under the water. Chion noisily jumped into the water, and Edna decided that, since fifty miles was a long was to swim, they would assemble a raft later that night to float with the river so they could sleep.

“Unless, of course, you have built-in motors in your boots that you neglected to tell me about, anyone have any objections? No? Good!” Edna dived under the briny green water, also pressing an Aqua-breather into her mouth. Quam handed one to Galder and swam off after her. Galder, still blowing water out of his nose, turned it on and went in.

After three hours, they had swum fifteen miles. They had come upon a Loyalist watercraft, but the others did not like Galder’s plan of using it. Quam and Edna quickly assembled the raft, and the four of them, excluding Chion in worry of breaking it, lay upon it. Quam got off at some point during the night and swam back a few minutes later.

"Alright, ladies, I have an alternative to swimming all the way. I have just checked out one of the sensors right on the shore there. It's a heat sensor detection system that Faylar is using in some places. Now, the mud on this river contains a lot of mitil-sulfite. If we cover our bodies with it, we can move a lot faster. We have to stay close to the shore though, when we are traced by motion sensors, only the muddy shores can gives us cover. And if that doesn't work, the river will."

Everyone agreed and miserably slopped around in the mud, soiling their clothes with the thick mud.

“Quam, how about we keep the Jedi unsoiled and let him get killed?” Galder suggested.

“Afraid of me again?” Yerssot asked with obvious contempt for him.

Galder held the barrel of his assault rifle to his head. “Quam, make him shut up!”

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After ten miserable miles, full of arguing, slow tired walking, and liberal mud use, they were twenty-five miles from K’rra Chi. Night was falling for the second time, and it was much darker than the previous night, as they were in the jungle and not on the river. They stopped their rather annoyed parade through the jungle and settled down for the night, sleeping the mud to throw the sensors off again.

In the distance, louder than the screeching and hissing of the jungle creatures, was a whining noise. After awhile, it got on Galder’s nerves. “What is that noise?” he asked the others, who heard it also. He cocked his gun and looked around, but saw nothing.

Quam was already reading his locater and picked up an aerial invader. “There is a small atmospheric flyer coming this direction. It seems to be moving in search patterns.” He moved smoothly into the shadows and under the strangely-formed roots of a tree, using the Force to pull branches and bushes around it. The others crowded in, though Chion hid behind the tree rather than with them. Galder began to reach for his weapons, but Quam stopped him. “Hold your fire,” he hissed. “No noise, no movement.” The whining of the engine got agonizingly louder for a few moments, then moved away rapidly.

“We shall have to account for the flyers in our movements tomorrow,” Edna said to the others, moving out from cover. “Into the water again?”

“Well, I don’t want to move further into the jungle, too many sensors,” Quam replied. “Blast, I guess we will have to get in the water...again...”

“Isn’t this going to be fun, Galder?” Yerssot asked.

“Shut up!”

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“It’s okay to be scared, Jedi! It’ll just attract the creature quicker...” Edna said to Yerssot as he slowly approached the water.

“I think it would be a good time for you to give me my lightsaber back...” Yerssot told them.

“You don’t need a lightsaber, you’re just bait,” Edna retorted. Galder pushed Yerssot towards the water, a pistol pressed against his spine.

“I take it that Galder is too scared to do it,” Yerssot hollered back to them.

“Then strong is he! Fear is a powerful ally! You would do well to let it guide you as it does he! Now get on with it!”

Yerssot swam out into the middle of the river and stopped, waiting for the creature to approach. Soon enough, he began swimming back swiftly. The Dark Jedi prepare to use their weapons, lightsabers or blasters alike.

Something, a large unspeakable mass of scales and tentacles and tusks, emerged from the water with amazing speed, some ten meters across and five feet high. It shambled onto the land with a great gurgling roar, and shot a tentacle out and grabbed for Yerssot’s leg. The Jedi flipped backwards and landed behind Quam with a neat somersault. Chion charged forwards, amputating a tentacle with a one-handed sweep and pulling hard on another tentacle with the other hand, causing the monster to shriek in pain.

Quam quickly checked the power levels on his Tommy blaster, then unleashed a quick spray at the monster, leaping backwards as a tentacle shot forwards to wrap around his gun. He dodged in time and fire again, green ooze issuing from the creature’s mouth.

Chion continued his deadly game of tug-o’-war with the creature, trying to free himself while the monster tried to free its ensnared, stretching tentacle. Galder fired rapid bursts of lasers at the creature as Quam had been doing, but then reached for the second trigger on the rifle. Fwoosh! The explosives launcher sent a proton rocket at the creature, causing a large explosion. Then he returned to the rapid bursts as two tentacles wrapped around a tree that Yerssot had been sitting in, yanking it free from the earth. The Jedi hurdled away from it and tried to Force push the tree into the creature’s eye, but the two tentacles held firm and smashed the makeshift club down on top of Galder. Throwing himself to the side, the tree thudded loudly into the mud rather than into Galder‘s flesh, sending a wave of soggy terrain splattering onto Galder and Yerssot.

Galder fired yet another proton rocket at the creature, flesh being scorched away to reveal muscles and bone. Chion managed to hack off the tentacles that ensnared him and drove his blade into the main mass of the creature. It gave a deafening shriek, then began to die as Chion idly hacked at the scaly amphibious creature. Galder helped it along with his assault rifle, sliding in a different type of gas and unleashing purples blobs of energy at high speeds. The electronic whispers issued by the masses were soothing to Galder, but the effects of them caused the creature’s heart to explode.

Shortly after, Quam had a brilliant revelation in his planning. “Galder, make a fillet of that creature. We’ll use it’s skin to cover ourselves with and swim with it for the last stretch to the city...”

Galder looked at the rotting corpse of the creature, which Chion was still mindlessly performing overkill on. “Do we have to?”

Very good story.

Thanks Chilled! Glad you like it so far. There are about 20 more chapters to be posted, so keep up with it! 🙂

excellent body of work! this belongs on ff.net!

Its a nice recap of stuff I didn't experience,
Yea Rex! Post the next 115 pages! I wanna see our epic fight!