Severance

[bendu]

This is a story I started writing about some characters an RP group of mine came up with. The RPG campaign never got very far but I liked the characters we came up with so much that I spent some time writing about them. I'll be posting it bit by bit as opposed to the other story I have going. The story moves ahead in time a lot as the events of the main characters' lives bring them together.

Hope you enjoy it.

[bendu]

Prologue, 16 years before the Clone Wars
A burst of space reversion heralded a space transport exiting hyperspace. The elongated vessel was battered and scarred from laser fire. A sapphire orb of light filled the cockpit viewport, asteroids and a large world silhouetted in its bright light.

Sighs of relief and a man and woman in the pilot and co-pilot seats embrace each other for a long moment. The two lovers took a moment to stare into the other’s eyes. Garik Tabane gently caressed his beloved’s mocha cheek with the back of his dark hand. Faith’s eyes twinkled with moisture and the two shared a gentle kiss.

They had narrowly escaped with their lives from their warring world. Each of them was from opposite sides of an endless feud between their respective peoples and could never live the life they wanted were they to stay. But there were those that would not allow the two lovers to remain together. Much less give life to the miracle that had grown inside Faith’s womb.

Garik pressed a hand to her stomach to caress the product of their union. A child that was not to be, but would. He felt Faith shiver and then jerk in his arms. Her body tensed around him.

“Garik,” Faith gasped, “It’s time.”

Garik’s eyes grew wide and he pulled away from her to glance down at her swollen belly. It couldn’t be time. They were so close to a medical facility.

“Are you sure?” Garik panicked, of course she was sure, “We’re so close.”

“It’s time!”

Faith recoiled and moaned. There were no options; they would have to bring their child into the world on their own. Garik moved as quickly as he could. He brought Faith to the small cot in the passenger quarters behind the cockpit of their transport. She laid there moaning in pain and the two lovers stole another kiss before their baby could wait no longer.

Several hours later, Garik held his newborn son, Raith, in his hands. Wrapped in a towel the small child seemed fine despite some minor facial disfigurement. Nonetheless the child, their child, was beautiful. He was a father and he had his love to help him raise their boy…

“Garik,” Faith breathed faintly, “I… I love…”

“Shhhh,” Garik whispered, “I know, dear.”

“Take care of Raith…take care of our boy…”

“What are you saying?”

Faith let out a long deep breath and went silent. Still.

“Faith?” tears dripped from the man’s eyes, “Love?”

She didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Garik stared at her for an eternity until the stirring of baby Raith awoke him from his shocked daze. His heart sank as he closed his beloved’s eyes with a brush of his hand. Never would he be able to look into those beautiful eyes again.

He finally turned his reddened eyes to the small child he cradled in his arm. He took a long look at the milky white eyes of the disfigured baby. His love’s murderer…

[bendu]

Zeltros, 16 years before the Clone Wars
“I assure you, madam,” Senator Ciel took Fey Yahja’s hand in his own, “Your son will be treated as one of my own and will learn much in his duties.”

The senator’s hand gently rubbed the top of Fey’s hand and she made no effort to pull away. Tyriel stared at the senator’s blatant advances on his mother and rolled his eyes. Sometimes he found his own people’s friendly behavior excessive. Not to say he didn’t enjoy the pleasures Zeltros offered. He was still a boy; perhaps he would understand better when he grew old enough.

“Your reassurances are duly noted, senator, but unnecessary,” Fey’s free hand lightly landed on top of Ciel’s hand and she smiled with a discrete tilt of her head.

Tyriel knew his mother was one of the most desirable women in the elite of Zeltros but he couldn’t help the unease he felt whenever his mother was accepting of male advances. Perhaps he felt protective or perhaps, deep down, he felt it a betrayal to his father…

“Tyriel has expressed excitement to me about his apprenticeship,” Fey walked over to her son sitting in the large arm chair that sat against the wall of his mother’s bed chambers, “He’s wanted to take part in Republic politics since he learned to speak.”

His mother was truthful. Tyriel loved his home and loved the Republic along with it. Only ten years old and he was already on his way to his dream. He had his mother’s noble blood to thank for that. Fey caressed her son’s pink cheek.

“Mom, you’re embarrassing me,” Tyriel jerked his head away from his mother’s hand which warranted an amused smile from her.

“From what I hear he has been quite studious at the academy, particularly in his studies of public relations and diplomacy,” Senator Ciel rested his hands on the lapels of his suit coat, “That was a great contributing factor in my decision to take him as one of my aids.”

“I am sure it was,” Fey turned back to face the senator and opened her cloak to show her very form fitting dress.

“Perhaps this evening we could further discuss your son’s apprenticeship to me?”

“Perhaps,” Fey smiled ever so suggestively and ran a hand across the senator’s chest as she passed him, “But I believe it is time for my son and I to have our lunch together. So I shall send you a message later.”

“As you wish, madam,” the senator politely bowed to Fey then turned to Tyriel still sitting and bowed again, “Young Tyriel.”

With that, the senator briskly left Tyriel and his mother to their daily lunch that would be prepared for them in the estate’s dining room. Tyriel rose out of his seat and crossed the red carpeted floor to his mother’s side.

“I take it we like the senator,” Tyriel said with a grin.

“We do,” his mother grinned back.

“Go easy on this one, mom,” Tyriel said, “I need this guy to not resent the family.”

“Oh hush, son,” Fey playfully swatted her son’s shoulder and the two laughed as they began their walk to the dining room.

For as long as he could remember, Tyriel’s family had always had every meal together. It was the one thing they made no compromises for. Even after father left, the tradition continued. Tyriel and he was sure his mother, always enjoyed the alone time they had together. Though he was sure they each missed Tyriel’s father, Asriel very much…despite his mother’s constant male liaisons.

Fey suddenly reached into her cloak and pulled out a datadisk, “I nearly forgot. Your father sent you a message this morning.”

Since his father left five years previously, every few months or so, he would be sent recorded messages from his father. Telling him about his business he had started and saying how much he missed him. Tyriel loved and hated them because they always reminded him that his parents couldn’t work out their differences but he got to hear from his father…

[Jedi Master 2k5]

Sweet

[bendu]

Jedi Temple - Coruscant, 16 years before the Clone Wars
She was so nervous. Her feathery crest quivered as Ksippi Moog was lead to her first classroom as a Jedi youngling. Mrlssi were short even as adults so the human Jedi Knight leading her through the pristine halls of the Jedi Temple towered over her. They passed a number of bronze figures lining the halls just before the Jedi Knight gestured towards a doorway where Ksippi could hear a raspy voice speaking instructions.

Ksippi’s large yellow Mrlssi eyes flicked nervously to her Jedi Knight guide. His face was gentle and he smiled comfortingly down at her. Encouragement enough for Ksippi to take the nerve racking steps through the doorway into a beautiful garden. Trees lined the walls and a small pond took up the back of the chamber with a large stone positioned just before the clear waters of the pond.

Perched on the large stone above all the students was an odd green almost frog like creature. Although shorter than some of the children present in the garden chamber, he appeared old and held a gimer stick as a cane which he used to lightly gesture with some of his instructions. The creature’s wrinkled face lifted as Ksippi entered and he pointed in her direction with his cane. All the children, all of varying races, turned their heads to follow the instructor’s gesture.

“Late you are,” the little green man said playfully, “Glad we are for you to join us, young one.”

The class giggled and Ksippi looked back at the Jedi that lead her there. He silently gestured for her to go on with his hand. She turned back and approached the other children her age nervously. Her feathers quivered again and she finally came to the back of the crowded students, beside a human boy who smiled at her.

“Now, then, continue I will,” the green man said and began to speak about life, the Force, the Jedi, and how they all connected.

“Hi,” the dark haired boy whispered.

“Hello,” Ksippi returned silently.

“My name’s Darven, Darven Panaka.”

“I’m Ksippi Moog.”

“If acquainted you are, continue with the lesson we would like, hmm,” the instructor said drawing the entire class’ eyes onto the two younglings.

Embarrassed, Darven and Ksippi silenced themselves. And when the Jedi Master began his lecture again the two children shared a giggle between newly formed friends…

[nefertiti]

Still good...so tender. The relationships are solidly real. Looking forward to the next entry.

[bendu]

Sokaz, 15 years before the Clone Wars
“This boy is special,” Kar’bala Dune said.

The toddler waddled across the floor in the unsteady trot typical to children recently accustom to walking on two feet.

“You could say that,” the dark skinned father of the boy said.

Kar’bala Dune was a Jedi Knight who had been traveling through the system and began expressing interest in the boy. Indeed he was special. It wasn’t his sickly looking eyes or the strange vein-like scarring on his body. It was more than that. The boy was strong in the Force.

“Who was his mother?” the Jedi asked.

“She died,” Garik said flatly.

“Yes, but who was she?”

“She and I were from a world of warring peoples,” he explained, “She was from the jungles of our world, a tribal people, they called themselves the Korrunai. They had strange powers that allowed them to survive in the harsh jungles outside the cities where I came from.”

“I see,” Kar’bala could sense that the memories caused Garik great pain. Whoever the woman was she passed on her Force-sensitivity to her son. Some worlds had Force traditions of their own, they were rare, but they did exist.

“What would you say if I told you this boy has the potential to be trained as a Jedi?”

“You want him, take him,” Garik said plainly.

“You would give up your boy like that?” Kar’bala was shocked at how cold Garik was towards his son. Some people were never meant to have children. Funny, seeing as every Jedi was a child their parents’ were willing to give up…

[bendu]

Jedi Temple - Coruscant, 6 years before the Clone Wars
A flash of light. A crackle of energy. And the hum of glowing lightsaber blades.

The green-white blade pressed on the blue-white blade sparkled as they pushed against one another. At the end of each blade stood two siblings locked in combat.

Kartir Navas felt her arms strain under the pressure of her physically superior brother, Satyr. Brother and sister locked eyes for a moment, their almost glowing silver eyes reflecting each other’s.

Satyr pulled away his saber, attempting to use the end of his green glowing blade to cut into Kartir’s shoulder as it pulled away from her weapon. But Kartir flicked her blue blade upwards at the last moment.

Surrounded by fellow younglings who watched in awe as the sibling rivalry manifested in the final match of the lightsaber tournament, Kartir and Satyr took a moment to salute one another. Despite their competitive relationship they still cared for one another deeply and respected the other’s skills. Their relationship only pushed the two of them to excel to the top of their class.

A flurry of attacks from her brother came too close to their mark for Kartir’s comfort and she retreated a little. Her brother’s style was far more aggressive. She hoped that her defensive approach would hold out long enough to give her an opening in his attacks.

Just three blows. Just three blows and victory.

She pecked at her brother’s defenses with a pair of quick strikes at the head. Satyr was fast and stronger than she was but she was the faster by a fraction. That was where she would need to find the opening. She held her saber to her side in one hand and stood with her body open to attack, her smirk meant as a dare to bait him further in.

He took the bait. A lunge for the heart. Her lightsaber rose, redirecting Satyr’s blade of course, as she back spun around behind her brother and fluidly swung her blade overhead and downward across Satyr’s exposed back. He yelped in pain and stumbled forward. The crowd echoed Satyr’s surprise.

The lightsaber’s were set at a non-lethal frequency so the participants wouldn’t kill each other, but the strikes stung. You knew when you were hit. Normally her brother would likely be tending to a massive gash in his back and possibly a severed spine.

Satyr’s violet face reddened and he ran a hand through his deep blue hair. His smile indicated both frustration in himself and pride in his sister. Then his jade-green blade was upraised again and the two combatants circled each other around the ring.

This time Kartir pressed the attack, lunging forward with an upward swing that would sever groin to shoulder. Satyr hopped back to safety, nearly crossing the rings border, then his knees bent and he was propelled into the air with a Force assisted leap overhead. Before Kartir could turn her brother was behind her. Expecting a similar strike like she did to him she brought her saber around parallel with her back only to feel the ghostly shove of the Force knocking her forward through the air.

A grunt from Satyr was prelude to the stinging slash to her ankle that spun her about while in the air, her head suddenly pointing to the floor. It was all so fast. Then another burning downward slash to her back pulled her down chest first into the floor. The thud of her fall was followed by the clapping of the audience. Satyr’s tactics received a few disapproving glances from some of the more conservative Jedi Master’s supervising.

A roll to the side avoided a third blow coming down at her that singed a black line into the floor where Kartir had been. Then, whirling her legs about, knocked Satyr to the floor as she hurled herself to her feet and retreated backwards to take a moment to recuperate.

“Ow,” she said aloud as her brother lifted himself to his feet. That garnered some laughs from a few in the audience.

Brother and sister looked at one another across the arena and each smirked menacingly at the other. They both brandished their lightsabers in favored stances and held positions for what felt forever. The audience quieted and the Force crackled with tension. Stillness. Meditative stillness for each combatant reacquainted them with the peaceful fury the Force brings in combat. Then motion.

In unison, the Jedi children charged one another and the arena exploded with a beautiful dance of blue and green light. Flashes threatened to blind and energetic buzzing threatened to deafen. Brother and sister locked in a primal dance. One with each other. They reveled in their combat together and all sensitive enough could feel the raw joy in the Force that rippled out from the center of the ring.

Blow after blow from her brother was fended off and Kartir’s body began to scream the promise of a very good sleep that night.

A groan of pain and suddenly the siblings’ backs were facing one another with Satyr clutching a singed hip.

Even the score. One more blow and victory. One more blow and defeat. All or nothing.

Simultaneous turns and tired charges and their blades met again. Locked together, sweaty brows nearly touching, Kartir and Satyr bore clenched teeth at one another. Then a boot to Satyr’s chest pushed him backwards and his outward stretched hand sent an invisible fist into Kartir’s shoulder spinning her about—back facing her brother. He charged as Kartir turned with an overhead slash. But Satyr fell to his knees and slid along the shining floor with his green saber aimed to sever legs. Legs that leapt over his outstretched blade and landed safely behind as it passed.

One blow and victory.

Kartir continued her spin and turned her lightsaber’s horizontal swing into an upward parry that knocked Satyr’s blade away and spun him around. Kartir brought her blade back down to strike at Satyr’s shoulder as he used his spin to bring his blade around into her midsection.

One blow and defeat.

A gasp from the audience and another yelp of pain. Brother and sister looked into each other’s bright silver eyes and the crowed went silent. Kartir stepped backwards holding her scorched midsection. So close. The silence was broken by cheers and younglings charged outwards to congratulate the victor.

Surrounded by celebrating children, Satyr kept his eyes on his sister and she on him, satisfied that the fight was over and proud to have been a part of it. Kartir bowed to her brother and then the two began to laugh with one another, Satyr still being cheered by their fellow students.

[sharyntyre]

coolies. Glad to see you sharing more of your stuff man! is there more of the first piece you put up for us?

[bendu]

I'm working on both at once. The Dark Times series I'm working on takes a bit more time as each chapter is going to be similar in length as it's first installment. This is just something I had started writing a long time ago that I thought I should throw on as well.

Glad to hear people enjoy my writing. Both stories serve as a break from the other. When I have a block in one I go to the other and can apply different ideas.

[bendu]

Jedi Temple - Coruscant, 6 years before the Clone Wars
The tournament’s final match had been quite a spectacle. Ksippi trotted alongside her close friend Darven. She was now just over half his height. Sometimes she missed being as tall as Darven. But they had been just out of infancy then. As they got older the gap between their heights grew and grew.

“Those two sure know how to put on a show, huh?” Darven sparked up conversation.

“Sure do,” Ksippi smiled to herself at seeing a class of children taking their first class with Master Yoda, “I felt sorry for the girl though. It was so close.”

“Did you feel it though?”

“Feel what?”

“Them,” Darven paused to look down at his Mrlssi companion as he pushed open the decorative doorway to the mess hall.

“Oh, you mean in the Force?” Ksippi clued in, “Yeah, it was amazing. So much emotion, but it wasn’t negative like our teachers tell us to avoid. It was different.”

“Leave it to Zeltrons to do that,” Darven and Ksippi sat down together at a long table in the vast mess hall.

“Zeltrons are a very emotional people, few of them become Jedi because of it I hear,” Ksippi said, somewhat worried. From what she saw those two both deserve to be Jedi as much as anyone if not more so.

“Either way, I think the better fighter won in the end. The girl was worried too much about staying on the defensive and that’s what did her in on her last couple of moves,” Darven said as the server droid wheeled over to their table.

“Maybe, but part of what made the fight so interesting was their opposite approaches,” Ksippi turned to the droid, “Whatever’s popular today, please.”

“I’ll just have some of the stew,” Darven ordered.

“Yes masters,” the droid bowed and wheeled away towards the kitchen.

“You’re right. Either way, I wouldn’t want to be faced against either of them any time soon,” Darven grinned sheepishly.

“I’m sure you could hold your own,” Ksippi’s crest of brown and green feathers perked up.

“Yeah right. I didn’t even make it to the semis.”

Ksippi shoved her small avian frame into Darven playfully, “Whatever.”

[bendu]

Jedi Temple – Coruscant, 6 years before the Clone Wars
Sitting alone in the corner of the mess hall was Raith Tabane. No one paid him much mind except for those who took notice of his disfigurements. A hand traced along one vein like mark that ran over his left eye. Few kept eye contact with him as his white eyes were somewhat frightening to less open minded children.

He took a bite of his half eaten stew and returned to his reading up on alien anatomy. It was his favorite subject along with medical practices both in applications of the Force and in physical treatment. Had he not been brought to the Jedi Temple he would have likely gone into medicine were it open to him.

Then a tall blond woman approached him from across the chamber. Raith sensed her approach and glanced up at her with a light smile. She was a beautiful woman. Her hair hung in disheveled curls but it only added to her loveliness. Raith put down his datapad to greet her as she reached the bench across from him.

“Hello, Master Dune,” Raith said, unable to hide the excitement in his voice.

“It is a pleasure to see you as well, young one,” Kar’bala Dune said soothing, “Still not the social butterfly I see.”

“Most kids don’t want to be around the freak kid,” Raith lowered his head shamefully.

“They will grow past it once they begin their transformations into the Jedi Knights they will become. Besides, with all the different species littering these halls I’m sure your appearance is not the most shocking.”

Raith afforded himself a chuckle and looked back up at Kar’bala’s gentle face. She had brought him to the Temple and always made sure to see him whenever she was not off saving the galaxy in some way.

“I have some news for you, little Raith,” Kar’bala used her thumb to gently wipe some sauce off the corner of Raith’s mouth with a smile, “I have been given permission to take you as my padawan learner.”

Raith’s milky eyes widened in surprise. He was only nine years old, most Jedi Knights and Masters preferred to take on padawans when they were at least ten or eleven.

“Really?!”

“Of course, who else would I take as my padawan learner?” she looked back at the crowd of children eating and conversing in the mess hall, “I have been awaiting the time you would be old enough for me to begin training you personally since I brought you here.”

“I just thought that maybe one of the trainees that participated in the tournament, maybe one of the Zeltrons from the finals. They’ve reached the cutoff age and are much more ready than I am.”

“A Jedi Knight chooses her padawan based on her own criteria, young one,” Kar’bala chided.

“Okay, okay,” Raith’s heart was jumping from his chest, “When do I get to go on a mission with you?”

“Much of the more dangerous missions I receive you will have to stay here for studies, but as you grow you will come with me more and more.”

“This is amazing,” Raith stood up with his datapad in hand and ran around the table and hugged Kar’bala Dune. Since it got in his head that he would become a padawan soon he had never thought he would get to train under the very Jedi he personally adored.

[nefertiti]

Very good... call me crazy but I like the names of your character... they make me want to see them. Excellent!

[bendu]

I can't take full credit for all the names. Like I said these characters were made for an RPG campaign that never got very far so a lot of the primary characters were named by friends of mine. But thanks. I'm glad you like the characters as much as I do. I thought they deserved a full story of their own to do them justice because they were such rich characters.

[bendu]

Jedi Temple – Coruscant, 6 years before the Clone Wars
Alone in the dueling ring, Kartir practiced one of her lightsaber katas. Tired, sore, and a little disheartened at her loss she hoped to work out where she failed with some extended practice. She and her brother were both at the cutoff age and would soon be sent off to the AgriCorps or something of a similar nature that wasn’t becoming a Jedi. Not to mention few Jedi wanted the complications of teaching an apprentice as emotional as Zeltrons tended to be. She needed to push herself that much harder to impress any one of the Jedi Knights who were looking for padawans. Satyr would find a master, no problem, with his victory.

Coming to the end of her kata, Kartir swung her sapphire lightsaber about and then spun around to be startled by the presence of a jet-black haired woman standing just in the path of her last strike.

“I could have hurt you,” Kartir said as the blade of her saber retreated back into its hilt with its ceremonious hiss-pop, “What are you doing here?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” the tan skinned woman’s dark eyes glinted in the duel ring light, “I’m here to see you, Kartir Navas.”

“Well you could have made yourself known without getting in the path of my lightsaber, you know.”

“You calculate every move you make with your blade, minding the motions all the way through as opposed to just executing technique after technique,” The Jedi walked over to the empty audience stands removing her brown cloak. Her movements were smooth, fluid, and elegant despite how trivial.

“Umm…I guess so,” Kartir hadn’t thought about her fighting skills in that way, but it was right. Maybe that’s why the Jedi Knight knew she wouldn’t have hit her.

“Most only begin to do this after they have refined their execution of individual moves. With time and practice you can learn to do that as quickly as instinct,” The Jedi adjusted her maroon colored tunic and pulled back her straight black hair into a knot, “That would make your style able to stand up to even the fierceness of your brother’s style.”

“That’s not that important from what I’m told,” Kartir tightened the grip on her lightsaber, “Jedi rarely if ever are in a real duel, seeing as blasters are what everyone uses these days.”

“That is true,” The Jedi returned to the ring and unclipped her own lightsaber from her belt, “However, a Jedi must be prepared for all situations. Besides, your lightsaber is more than a baton to swat laser blasts back at your enemy.”

The Jedi Knight’s lightsaber ignited with a snap-hiss and added blue light to the reflective floor. Kartir noticed the scoring on the floor from her duel with Satyr hadn’t been removed yet. The Jedi Knight then took a neutral stance, simply standing straight with her saber pointed down in front of her.

“At the end of your fight you had a chance to end it right away,” The Jedi noted, “Instead you decided to deflect your brother’s weapon before making a strike.”

“A lot of help it was,” Kartir said plaintively.

“Why did you do this?”

“Trying to remove any threats before going in for the kill, so to speak.”

“An understandable and honorable approach,” the Jedi bowed her head and grinned, “Let’s see if we can’t refine that and show your brother a thing or two next time.”

The Jedi Knight lunged with a quick upward surprise attack. Kartir’s lightsaber ignited and intercepted. The two blue blades flashed and crackled against each other.

“May I ask your name?”

“Cindel Nelprin,” The Jedi responded still smiling, “Your new master.”

The Jedi Knight’s free hand passed over the still locked lightsabers and her eyes gestured invitingly. Kartir was astonished and her mouth gaped, still she managed to pull a hand from her saber hilt to take Cindel’s in a friendly greeting.

[bendu]

Jedi Temple – Coruscant, 6 years before the Clone Wars
“Darven!” Ksippi Moog ran as quickly as her short avian feet could carry her. The talons on her feet clicked against the floor with each flighty step, “Darven!”

She reached the automated door to his quarters and nearly ran into it before it finished opening for her. Darven was sitting at his desk reading a datapad when she stormed in. He turned his swiveling chair to face Ksippi and ran a hand through his dark hair.

“I’m a padawan! I’m a padawan learner,” Ksippi was so excited she jumped up on Darven’s cot beside his desk, bringing her eye level to him, “After we finished eating and on my way to my room I was stopped by a Jedi Master, another Mrlssi like me. She wants to train me.”

“Congratulations,” Darven said with that smile Ksippi loved so much. He placed a hand on her three fingered hand and looked her in the eye, “Me too.”

“What?”

“I’m a padawan now too!” Darven suddenly appeared as excited as she did, “I’m reading up on some history that has to do with a mission I’m leaving on tomorrow.”

“Who is it? What are they like?” Ksippi’s head perked sideways curiously.

“A Bothan named Ashk Ek’yka,” Darven said becoming calm again, “He seems ok.”

“Mine’s called Hrilt Lawra. Very stern and strict, but I like her.”

Darven looked back at the datapad on his desk and pulled his hand away from Ksippi. His chin quivered subtly. Ksippi only noticed because of her Mrlssi eyesight.

“Is something wrong, Darven?”

“It’s just that…” he looked back at Ksippi into those big curious eyes of hers, “We won’t get to see each other very much anymore.”

“Sure we will,” Ksippi’s gray beak curved slightly into a Mrlssi smile, “We’ll still see each other here at the Temple when we’re not gone with our masters.”

“Master Ek’yka rarely visits Coruscant,” Darven feigned rubbing something from his eye, “He thinks you learn more the more you’re out in the field.”

“It won’t be like that forever, Darven,” Ksippi placed a clawed hand on his shoulder, “We’ll be Jedi Knights in time and you can come to Coruscant when you want.”

“That’s a long time from now,” Darven looked out the viewing window at the back of his room. Coruscant’s sun was setting, the cityscape silhouetted in the orange light, “And what if something happens. Being a Jedi is dangerous and it’s getting worse with this growing secessionist movement it keeps…”

“I’m going to miss you too, Darven,” Ksippi interrupted.

Darven chuckled, “I’m going to miss you too, Ksippi. You’re my greatest friend.”

Friend. In that moment Ksippi felt something inside her. She always knew they were friends but why did it hurt when Darven said it? Then it hit Ksippi. She wanted more. She had always ignored it but it was always there. Ever since they met that day in Yoda’s class. But it couldn’t be. They were Jedi, attachments could be dangerous. They were lucky they could even be friends. Much less, Darven was human and she was a Mrlssi…

“You’re a great friend too, Darven,” Ksippi wiped a tear from her big yellow eye, “You’ll always be my friend.”

The life of a Jedi was a hard one. Already, still children, it was extremely hard. The hardest thing Ksippi ever did was walk out of Darven’s room without saying another word.

[bendu]

Jedi Temple – Coruscant, 6 years before the Clone Wars

Kartir hugged her brother like he was going to fly away—which in a few minutes he actually would be. He was going off to join the ExplorCorps to use what skills he already learned at the Temple to aid in mapping out new worlds and space lanes across the galaxy.

“It’s not fair,” Kartir said into his ear.

“Life never is, sister,” Satyr said, playing tough. He always had to pretend to be strong when deep down Kartir knew he wanted to cry, scream, and wail at the galaxy.

“It should be me going and you staying,” Kartir sniffed as she pulled away to look her brother in the face, “You’d make a better Jedi than I would.”

“Don’t say that. You’ve been given this great chance,” Satyr’s silver eyes began to glisten with moisture, “A chance you’ll have to make work for the both of us.”

The refugee transport that was Satyr’s ship hovered in and landed in the distance. Refugees and all others seeking transport began moving briskly towards it. Even in the twilight of Coruscant there was light aplenty in the starport. Advertisements and cantina signs added a rainbow of color that Kartir found more beautiful than the sunny days of the city planet. Now they brought no comfort.

Satyr reached inside his bag and pulled out a cylinder that could only be his lightsaber, “Here, I want you to have this.”

“I couldn’t,” Kartir lightly pushed the hilt back to her brother.

“I’m not allowed to keep it anyway.”

“Oh, Sate,” Kartir glanced back at Cindel Nelprin who kept a distance to provide the siblings with some privacy. Then she took the lightsaber in one hand and hugged her brother again. Satyr then wrapped his arms around Kartir and held her tightly in return. In that moment, the Force filled with sorrow and memory. Memories of a brother and sister who pushed each other to excel to ensure they’d achieve their dreams. A dream of two now held by one.

“May the Force be with you, sister.”

Satyr then let his sister go and picked up his bag. He turned away and began his walk away from his dream. When he was far enough away, he sobbed. He wept with each step he took towards the towering ship that drew closer and closer.

Kartir stared off into the moving crowd for an excruciating several minutes. Finally she breathed again and turned around to her new master. So much had happened in a day. Second place in a lightsaber tournament. Made into a padawan learner. And saying goodbye to her brother.

“Allow yourself to feel this loss today,” Cindel spoke softly as they made their way to the air taxi that would return them to the Jedi Temple, “Sadness is part of a Jedi’s life, part of all life, but never let it rule you. Your brother has a destiny away from here, no less or more important than yours or mine.”

It was actually comforting to think of it like that. Kartir managed to wipe away her tears and return to the calm embrace that the Force brought to her. She looked down at the lightsaber hilt in her hand—artfully built with an inscription marked into the side that Kartir never noticed before. The characters were in the abandoned language of the Zeltrons that the Navas siblings managed to find a little of in the Jedi archives.

There is no emotion; there is peace.

A final message from her brother it seemed. Zeltrons were often ruled by their feelings making them nearly never successful Jedi. She lost her brother that day, but she still had a piece of him with her. His lightsaber would always be a reminder that she had to become a Jedi not just for herself, but for the brother she likely would never see again.

[bendu]

Zeltros, 6 years before the Clone Wars

“I hear you’ve become quite the diplomat,” a holoimage of Tyriel’s father said with a proud grin, “You can’t understand how proud that makes me, son. Things have been pretty quiet out here, not much profit to speak of so far. It’s going to be a long time before any real profit surfaces, but I’m making contacts all over, really starting to make a name for myself out here.”

Tyriel sat in his small office’s desk watching the miniature image of his father intently with a hand resting over his mouth. Every message he received from his father he seemed to appear more haggard, more worn. Over the years, Tyriel had learned to notice lies and subtleties in body language indicating whatever words didn’t. And his father’s messages when he reviewed them seemed to always be missing something. Like his father kept withholding something…

“I miss you son,” Asriel said mournfully, “I hope that one day when I have really made something of myself I can return to Zeltros and make you and your mother as proud of me as I am of you.”

The image winked out and Tyriel sat in silence for a long moment.

“I miss you too, Dad,” Tyriel whispered to himself.

Sometimes Tyriel wished he wasn’t so busy working under Senator Ciel so he could go visit his father in the Sokaz Cluster. But what would he say to him? Perhaps he resented his father a little for leaving him and his mother. But he could understand his father’s reasons. He was always in Fey’s shadow on Zeltros and it put a lot of strain on their marriage.

After fifteen years, Tyriel’s mother had only earned greater influence on his homeworld and as far as he could tell, Asriel was struggling just to make ends meet. One day, when Tyriel took Ciel’s place as senator and his father was a successful entrepreneur—and he would be, his family could sit down together at the Yahja estate on Zeltros and have a meal together like they did when he was a boy again.

But for the time being, Tyriel had work to do. Ciel had a meeting soon and Tyriel was to attend so he prepared to meet with the senator prior to the meeting to discuss a few things and prepare for the meeting. A secessionist movement had been growing and it was an item of great controversy in the Senate. Tyriel exited his office with a strong sense in his family’s ability to achieve their ambitions…

[bendu]

Jedi Temple – Coruscant, 1 week before the Clone Wars

Raith Tabane struggled to keep track of the three floating remotes that whirred and hissed about the room. Master Dune always pushed him to exercise his skills to their fullest while she was away. That way when the time came he’d be prepared for the day when she finally took him with her on a dangerous mission.

One, two shots fired from front and behind. One deflected with his lightsaber and the other stung his back. Raith took a moment to recuperate from the stun blast and the remotes automatically responded to his pause. Dune always criticized his incapability to concentrate when he had to split his attention on multiple targets and this exercise was getting exceedingly frustrating.

Frustration was Raith’s usual feeling actually. He had hoped his apprenticeship to Kar’bala would give him a chance to see more of the galaxy but with the increasing danger of the secessionist movement she felt he wasn’t ready enough for most of the missions she went on. Raith hated being coddled.

Quit thinking.

Raith spun about the room to figure out where the voice came from. But besides the still floating remotes there was nothing.

Quit thinking.

The voice felt familiar and warm. Raith then lifted his lightsaber back up and the three remotes went back into their random movements about him. He tried to keep track of them all and tried to remember Kar’bala’s lessons. She always stressed learning only the most versatile of Jedi skills, labelling the more specialized techniques in the Force as excesses. She was much more pragmatic than he initially thought.

Quit thinking. Listen.

This time Raith listened to the insistent voice in his head. He quieted his mind and listened to the subtle whirrs of the remotes spiraling around him. A shot came from his back and he brought his blade across his back to deflect it. Success. Another from the left and a quick turn of his saber to his front sent the stun beam away. Raith smiled at himself and gave himself a mental pat on the back.

Listen!

Raith’s mind cleared again and suddenly the room swirled away. Raith found himself standing in a gray nothing with only himself, the remotes, and the blue light of his lightsaber.

Good boy.

Raith didn’t even need his eyes. The remotes felt as if they were a part of him. Like they were his own limbs and whatever movements they made his lightsaber, he, knew where to be. Raith marveled at the calm of it all. The Force had never felt this way before.

A shot from behind again and it was met by his blade. Raith didn’t even move his body. He stayed perfectly still. All that moved was his arms and his lightsaber. Three shots from all sides and a smooth whirl of blue fire around him stopped each one. The shots came at him at increasing speeds. Not one ever made it past his dancing sword.

Minutes past in an instant and the room whirled back into colored existence, pieces of automated remote littering the floor. Raith’s lightsaber retracted back into its hilt and he felt a warm presence about him. Like it were all around him and inside him at once.

“You certain you didn’t get some help?” a very familiar voice said from behind him.

Raith turned about to see Kar’bala Dune leaning against the wall beside the entry door. Raith hadn’t even sensed her coming.

“How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough to notice that you weren’t much aware of anything besides those remotes.”

“Ah,” Raith clipped his lightsaber back to his belt, “It was amazing. I felt…”

“Calm,” She finished for him, “I could feel how open you were in the Force. It was impressive.”

“Thank you.”

“This is good because I have a mission,” Kar’bala stood up and placed a hand on Raith’s shoulder, “And you’re coming with me this time.”

Raith’s eyes widened, “Really?”

“Don’t get too excited, padawan. This sounds like it ought to be a fairly simple task. Its just that the ruler on Sokaz has a great trust in me and it will make things run more smoothly.”

“Smoothly, eh?” Raith raised an eyebrow, “Details would be nice.”

“In time, young one,” Master Dune walked out of the automatic door and called Raith out with a gesture with her fingers, “When we are on our way to Sokaz.”

“Okay, okay,” Raith followed swiftly, “But I hope you won’t be embarrassed when I show you up if things get interesting.”

[bendu]

Bpfassh, 1 week before the Clone Wars

“Don’t listen to him Darven!” Ksippi shouted.

The Dark Jedi stood over the two of them with Darven’s lightsaber in hand. Bpfassh had been sending reports of Jedi behaving in less reputable ways. Darven and Ksippi along with their masters hadn’t realized how disreputable until the two padawans had been captured by a Bpfasshi Jedi who was bad, very bad. Bpfassh had a long history of Force-users going over to the dark side, making them untrusting of Jedi all together.

“He will listen Mrlssi,” Darven’s lightsaber ignited illuminating the dank cavern with blue light, “Because in his heart he knows I am right.”

“You lie!” Ksippi lifted herself off the wet dirt despite her arms tied behind her back, “The Jedi have no intentions of starting a war. We’re keepers of peace and justice.”

“Count Dooku is a Jedi is he not?” the Dark Jedi took his foot pinning Darven to the ground off his chest and moved to tower over the Mrlssi Jedi, “A Jedi leading the separatists seems all too convenient. With the Jedi in control of both sides of the coming conflict they can shape the galaxy as they see fit without anyone questioning their judgment.”

“Count Dooku left the Order almost ten years ago,” Ksippi was not intimidated by the Dark Jedi’s advance, “His actions are his own.”

“A clever ruse,” the Bpfasshi waved a dismissive hand, “Thousands of years in power and you believe the Jedi wouldn’t have the foresight to bring in motion their plans years in advance? You truly have been deluded by the Jedi Council.”

Darven then stood up from the dirt and shook some from his hair, “You have to admit he makes some sense, Ksippi.”

“You’re not serious, Darven!”

“Give it some thought,” Darven pressed, “With all that’s been happening, shouldn’t the Jedi Council have found a way to resolve things by now?”

“Darven, I know you’re frustrated with the Jedi Order,” Ksippi’s voice was wrought with desperation, “But that’s no reason to turn on them!”

“Your words are empty Mrlssi,” the Bpfasshi cued in, “The Jedi have allowed the Republic to become corrupt. If it hasn’t been by their design, then they have become obsolete and new methods are required.”

“He has a point, Ksippi,” Darven said.

She couldn’t believe that Darven was buying into the Bpfasshi Jedi’s lies. The Jedi have safeguarded the galaxy for thousands of years even before the Republic. Wars had always been the design of those seeking power. The Jedi had always been responsible for stopping the power hungry.

“I know what you are doing,” Ksippi glared at the Dark Jedi, “You’re looking to recruit us. To turn us to the dark side.”

“Spare me your narrow views of good and evil,” the Bpfasshi lifted a hand and Ksippi, as though snatched by an invisible hand was lifted into the air, “The Jedi are always seeking to push their beliefs on those sensitive to the Force.”

“Don’t you hurt her!” Darven spat.

“Ah, it seems I’ve found your weakness, apprentice,” The Darksider smiled viciously in the cold blue light, “I thought Jedi did not have emotions.”

“We have them,” Ksippi was condescending, “We just control them.”

“Perhaps you’re heart is cold, Mrlssi,” The Dark Jedi pointed a glowing blade at Darven, “But your friend has allowed himself the privilege of humanity.”

Ksippi was at a loss for what he meant. She turned to Darven, “What’s he talking about, Darven?”

Darven’s mouth opened and closed, opened and closed. He didn’t know what to say, “Ksippi…I…”

Then Ksippi clued in. She knew what the Bpfasshi Jedi was talking about. All the times she and Darven had been together passed through her mind and it donned on her. Darven loved her. Despite the difference in species, despite the Jedi code, Darven was in love with her. Ksippi’s eyes watered.

“Darven, I didn’t know,” Ksippi still hovered in the air, held in the Darksiders Force hold, “I thought it was only me.”

“Well isn’t this dramatic,” the Dark Jedi mocked.

Ksippi was thrown into the rock wall and she nearly passed out from the impact. Her vision sparkled as she lifted herself up again.

“I said don’t hurt her!” Darven screamed and the Force filled with red hot fury. The Dark Jedi was knocked off his feet and Darven’s lightsaber flew through the air to cut Darven’s binders and rest in his own hands. Darven shoved a boot into the Bpfasshi’s chest and held the lightsaber’s blade up to his nose.

The cave filled with laughter. The little light in the cave seemed to fade ever so slightly and the Force crackled like an impending storm, “Now you have felt strength, Jedi boy. You’ve tasted the sweet power the Jedi keep from you.”

“Shutup!” Darven drove the lightsaber into the Darksider’s shoulder. The two of them screamed in unison, pain and rage indistinguishable from each other.

“Darven, no!” Ksippi started towards him and then a look from her friend stopped her in her tracks. She didn’t recognize the young man that stared at her then.

Darven then was thrown across the space of the cavern by what felt like an invisible hammer to the chest. The Dark Jedi seemingly floated to his feet and laughed the same vicious laugh from before.

“Foolish boy,” a swing of his arm and Darven was struck by a second invisible force that knocked him into the cave wall, “Did you think you had me at your mercy? You merely scratched the surface of the power at my disposal. You and your Mrlssi girlfriend are bugs. Bugs that live because I deem it so.”

A green blade extended from the Bpfasshi’s hand, Ksippi’s lightsaber, and he slowly started towards Ksippi—leaning against the cave wall opposite from Darven. His left arm, shoulder smoking from the wound Darven inflicted, hung uselessly to his side.

“Now you will learn pain,” the darksider’s eyes burned with murder, “You will learn the true nature of the universe and then you will submit yourself to me. You will be my servant, because you will have nothing else.”

The Dark Jedi raised his saber over his head. Ksippi recoiled in fear. The emerald blade came down for the kill. The blade burned into the wet dirt where Ksippi had been. The Bpfasshi raised his head to the cave’s entrance to see Ksippi’s binders being undone by two Jedi Masters, a Mrlssi and a Bothan. The Jedi had saved the padawan with a quick tug with the Force.

“The dark side always blinds,” the Mrlssi Jedi Master ignited her own jade lighsaber as she stepped in front of her padawan to protect her. The Bothan then ignited his own blue blade and advanced towards the Bpfasshi.

“We can take him now, Darven,” the Bothan spoke, “Clear your mind of his lies.”

“It’s not his lies I’m thinking about, Ashk,” Darven lifted himself from the cold ground. His face was spattered in blood from a broken nose, “I’ve grown tired of you and the whole Jedi Order.”

“You throw your lot in with him?” Master Ek’yka’s tan fur furrowed in dismay.

“I throw my lot in with no one,” Darven’s own lightsaber ignited, “Ksippi and I are leaving here without any of you.”

“Darven, this is wrong,” Ksippi shouted. The situation was getting extremely complicated, “Don’t let your feelings get the best of you.”

“Listen to her, Darven,” Ashk said, “Your feelings for your fellow student are dangerous. Can’t you see what’s happening to you?”

“I see that allowing myself to feel has brought me freedom,” Darven spat blood into the dirt, “Freedom and an understanding in the Force.”

“Now’s not the time, padawan,” the Bothan Jedi kept his attention on the Bpfasshi Darksider, “I need your help now.”

“I have listened to this melodrama long enough,” the Dark Jedi punctuated his break of silence with a lunge at Ashk Ek’yka. The Bothan blocked the strike and head butted the Darksider. The Bpfasshi recoiled and Ashk gasped…

A blue blade extended out from the Bothan’s chest and his eyes rolled into the back of his head. Darven’s head peered out from behind the dead Jedi Master, eyes filled with madness.

“You’re next,” he said to the Dark Jedi.

“Darven, no,” Ksippi’s lungs emptied of air. She couldn’t believe what she was watching. Darven was a completely different person.

The Bpfasshi’s face twisted into a sinister grin and green fire swatted a Bothan corpse into two pieces. Then a gesture with his hand launched Darven into the ceiling head first. Darven dropped on top of his dead master lifelessly.

“Darven!” Ksippi’s voice filled the cavern and her anguish polluted the Force. The Bpfasshi used it to fill him with strength.

“Calm yourself, padawan,” Master Lawra commanded in her fluty voice, “A Jedi must remain vigilante.”

“Silly Jedi,” the Bpfasshi bent low with his stolen lightsaber pointed forward and propelled himself forward with the Force at blinding speed. The Dark Jedi collided into Lawra, a flash of lightsabers meeting preceded their flight out of the cavern, over Ksippi’s head, into the sunlight.

“Master,” Ksippi gasped. Then she summoned the courage and resolve to call one of the fallen lightsabers from the cave and charged out of the cavern to her master’s assistance.

The Dark Jedi had the reach over the shorter Mrlssi master. But Master Lawra dived and rolled over and under every swipe of the Bpfasshi’s attacks. Despite his wounded arm the Darksider fought brutally and without regard for the pain ailing him.

Ksippi Moog ignited her borrowed lightsaber and gave herself to the Force. The anguish she felt melted away in that moment as she leapt into the melee. Her lightsaber met with the Bpfasshi’s. The Dark Jedi’s style was crude; he clearly had never had any formal training in lightsaber combat but he was using the Jedi’s broken spirit to his advantage. Over the years Ksippi had harnessed her own lightsaber skills. Hrilt Lawra had expressed concern that Mrlssi tended to be diplomats but now Ksippi’s skills would come in handy as they had been increasingly over the course of the growing secessionist movement.

Fending off the unified attacks of master and apprentice, the Dark Jedi retreated with a Force leap to the hilltop over the cavern entrance. He switched off his lightsaber and stones began to pluck themselves from the earth and fly in volleys at the two Jedi. Master Lawra disengaged her own lightsaber and began to deflect rocks with her own telekinesis.

“Padawan, his strength is waning,” the Mrlssi master strained against another volley of stones, “You have to finish him before he escapes.”

The Darksider laughed maniacally as he began to lob stones larger than the two Mrlssi Jedi down upon them. Ksippi could feel her own master’s strength in the Force strain to hold off the assault. Ksippi drew in what strength she could from the Force and leapt at the Bpfasshi.

A vast stone met her in the air. Ksippi latched onto it and propelled herself further forward only to be met by another rock mid-flight. Again she used it to propel herself even closer to her target. She landed behind the Darksider, trailing feathers, and stabbed her saber outward. A snap-hiss and her blade was intercepted by a glowing green shaft—sparks spewing out at her.

A rock whirled overhead and smashed into the Bpfasshi’s back. Stumbling forward, the Darksider was dazed still attempting a lunge at Ksippi’s head. Ksippi spun over the Dark Jedi’s attack with a swing of her saber. When she came back around to face her opponent she found him missing his torso at his midsection.

It was over.

Her body finally gave into the strain put on it and she fell to her knees as Master Lawra, heaving breath into her own strained body, walked up the hillside to meet Ksippi.

“You did well, padawan,” Hrilt said, placing a three-fingered hand on Ksippi’s shoulder, “I know how hard this has been.”

Ksippi stood up suddenly, “Darven!”

Ksippi ran down the hillside and walked into the cavern. Darven was nowhere to be found. During their battle he must have run off.

“Oh, Darven you fool,” she said to herself, “I promise we’ll meet again. We’ll meet again one day, and I’ll save you from yourself.”