Star Wars: Heroes of Kalarba

[LostSoul]

Great story so far! Interesting that the only character I really feel for is Darius.

Thanks! I'm not surprised you don't really feel for the others - actually, I'm surprised you feel for anyone - but they were anti-heroes. They all have their ups and downs. This last game (session IV, A Dark Sun Rises) was the first one where we really got past the beginning and into the characters.

 

[LostSoul]

It was hard to tell the passage of time on Casino Royale. Behind the moon of Socarro VI, it never recieved any direct sunlight. So night grew into night. It was the perfect place for a den of sin. Troy felt at home here.

Socarro VI had a long and illustrious history. It had gone through hell during the Clone Wars, where it had its name changed to Sorotarr after the general who forcibly subdued the population. During this time, Sorotarr built a large defense platform - the basis for the Casino Royale. It was a meeting point for all sorts of undesireables, and many of these stayed on after the war. In the end it was liberated due to a combined Republic, Kalarban, and Norval fleet. But it was never the same.

Troy always felt welcome here. The journey was only a few days from Kalarba. Troy and Arthur spent a lot of time there, retreating to the Casino whenver things got a little too hectic in the palace. It was a good place to disappear, to lose yourself.

Troy woke up feeling restless. He was still tired after his rest. His dreams were strange and wild. They all had a feeling of loss, of something that was just out of his reach and if he could get his hands on it everything would be right. But he never could, he just kept falling deeper into darkness.

After washing up on the Bee-A's captain's suite, Troy got dressed. He chose one of his old suits, an expensive and classy one, but he wore it slightly off. He strapped on a wrist holster, but didn't have a blaster to fit. He'd have to find another one. He grabbed a pack of cigarettes and an old lighter stamped with a Norval II flight insignia. He neglected to shave but fixed his hair.

The docking bay was alive with activity. Darius was sitting on a folding chair smoking a cigar. Next to him was a grill, and a few cuts of meat were grilling there. Arthur was directing a group of mechanics, arguing with them about the best way to fix Bessie. Feyd was nowhere to be seen. Arthur spotted Troy and walked over to him.

"Have a good sleep?" Arthur said. Troy stopped to light a guntha stick. "Not bad."

"We saw you on the comms. Looks like you're a celebrity here." Troy nodded and sat down on a fueling cell.

"You hungry?" Darius said. "Dinner will be ready soon."

"A drink would be nice," Troy said. Darius reached into a cooler and threw him a dantic. Troy cracked it open and took a long gulp.

"I could use one too," Arthur said.

"The cooler's open," Darius replied.

Dinner was good and greasy. Troy felt refreshed after the meal and the fatigue drifted away from him. He stood up and lit another guntha stick. Darius was talking about his old job as a grill chef on some backwater rim planet. He led a different life now.

"I've got to head out," Troy said. "I'll see you back here for breakfast." Darius nodded and Arthur waved. "Try and bring back something interesting," Arthur said.

--- Star Wars ---

He met Brooke at the base of a posh hotel. She was dressed in a slinky white outfit. She had a small amount of makeup on her, a pale shade of blue that was the fashion in the core worlds. She looked ready for anything.

"Here's the hold-out you wanted," Brooke said, handing Troy a small and highly illegal blaster. He fitted it into his holster. "I hope you won't be needing it. These players are above that."

"It's good to have some backup," he said. Brooke smiled. "You've got me," she said.

They took a glass elevator up, high up, above the lights and common casinos below. Troy stared out at them, receding in the distance. Brooke's reflection caught his eye. She still had the sadness in her eyes. Troy wondered what it was from but the question was taboo. He hoped he would find out in time.

They entered a regal suite, similar to the ones that he and Arthur would book when Arthur still had command of the royal Indobok treasury. It was opulent and garish. It was made for people who wanted to show off their wealth, to take eyes off of themselves because what was there was never quite as beautiful as the things they owned. Three man stood around a table filled with drinks and exotic foods. They nibbled at these and drank, laughing boasfully at their own exploits. Two of them wore Imperial uniforms, the other been a businessman. They looked up at Brooke and Troy.

VP Egus Glotto of TransGal Meg, Rear Admiral Stuus Motti, Moff Zin Zit.

"Gentlemen," Brooke said, drawing their eyes to her. "Let me introduce Troy Chance, an old friend. You might have heard of him."

"We saw you last night in the casino," the businessman said. He extended his hand. "Egus Glotto, Vice-President of TransGal Meg." Troy shook his hand.

"This is Rear Admiral Stuus Motti," Brooke said, introducing one of the Imperial officers. The Admiral kissed her hand and shook Troy's. "And this is Moff Zin Zit. We are expecting another player; he should arrive soon."

The waiting was always the hardest part for Troy. He took another couple of drinks while Brooke exchanged pleasantries with the other men. He fended off a few inquiries into his business but these went unnoticed. Brooke commanded the attention of the men, and anything said to Troy was just faked courtesy.

Troy studied the men while they talked. He picked up some tells from each of them, and he knew that would make this night easier. Brooke had a talent for bringing things out of other people while telling little of herself. Each question she answered told her more of the questioner and gave away little. She had used this on Troy before and with him.

After over an hour of waiting and small talk, the Imperial Moff suggested starting. "Our last guest is taking his own damn sweet time. Let's just get going." Troy was ready for this, and took his place at the gaming table. Brooke prepared the table.

"Enjoy yourselves, gentlemen," she said.

--- Star Wars ---

The game went well for Troy. He played up and down, losing some at the start but bringing his total up slowly. He intentionally lost a few big hands but made them back over time. He faked nervousness with each hand, although he knew that he could have easily cleaned out the men in only a few hands. To lull them into false security was better.

He had already raised his winnings from fifty to nearly a hundred and fifty when the suite's doors opened. A small entourage of people walked in - two masked guards, three half-naked twi'lek dancing girls - all around a smallish hutt on a repulsor platform. The hutt was smoking a large water-pipe, blowing foul-smelling smoke into the air.

"Let me introduce Gulguthra the Hutt," Brooke said. The Hutt laughed in a booming voice, the laugh directed at Brooke.

"We all are here, tonight," Gulguthra said with a thick and strange accent. "De real game begin now."

Gulguthra was right. Troy had to give up his former style, his game of cat-and-mouse, and really put his mind into the game. It wasn't long before Egus Glotto and Stuus Motti had called it in. Glotto watched the game continue, while Stuus Motti proceded to empty the drink cart. The twi'lek girls were giving a dance, and the Rear Admiral watched them intensely.

Brooke was still watching the game, making small talk and flirting whenever she could. Moff Zin Zit was thrown off with her teasing, but Gulguthra was immune. Hutts are notorious for their vices, but even more renown for thier ability to shrug them off when it suited them.

"Ho ho ho," Gulguthra laughed. "Dis hand be mine!" he said, and one of the guards moved the pile of credits over to him. He had taken most of the other three's money, and now Zin Zit was left with little. Even Troy's winnings were dwarfed by the Hutt's. Troy wondered if it had been a mistake to get into the game with a notorious gambler. He had heard of Gulguthra among the seedier cirlces he hung around with. A gamer, a gambler, a deadly enemy and worse friend.

"I'm going to fix myself a starburst," Brooke said. "Does anyone else want anything?"

"Corellian whiskey, on ice," Troy said. He recognized the clue and had responded in kind. It had been long since they had worked together in a game like this, in any game. But together they had never been beaten, nor had they ever been caught. They worked with such subtlety that even an interrogation droid would have missed it.

The cards were dealt. Troy had a good hand, but good enough? He realized that Zin Zit had something, as well - and Gulguthra was an unknown. Troy decided to fake a tell. He stared at Gulguthra, hoping the hutt would take the aggression as the sign of a bluff. If the hutt had gone for it, Troy had no way of knowing.

Betting followed. Both Gulguthra and Troy increased their ante. The stakes grew higher and higher. Brooke put in her own suggestions, causing Moff Zin Zit to think that she could be bought with the winnings. The Moff threw in almost all he had. Troy and Gulguthra responded. The pot was nearly half a million credits.

Brooke changed her tactic. She brought out the growing doubt in Zin Zit's mind, forcing it to the surface, making it grow so that it he could not ignore it. Zin Zit threw down his cards in disgust. "Too much for me," he said.

Gulguthra laughed. "So, Troy Chance, human, it is down to us. You have de Hutt's courage. We see if it lasts, eh?" The slug laughed again and slapped Brooke on the rear. That last move just to take Troy off his game. He knew there was something between them, but the hutt know how deep it ran?

Gulguthra put the whole of his cash on the table. There was over a million on the table now.

"Can de Troy Chance meet dis?" the hutt boomed.

Brooke gave a signal. "Not with my cash," Troy said, "but I've got a ship that will cover it." He threw down the passcard to the Bee-A. "A new Imperial Customs Guardian Light Cruiser." It was worth nearly eight-hundred thousand.

"Let's see what you got," Gulguthra said, and laid his hand on the table. A pure sabaac. Glotto whistled. Zin Zit harrumphed. Even Brooke was taken aback. The hutt had been cheating.

"Not bad," Troy said, and laid his down. An idiot's array. Troy smiled and leaned back. Brooke sighed as tension washed off her. Gulguthra laughed, louder than before.

"Troy Chance, you are my human favourite!" he said. More was left unsaid. Gulguthra knew that Troy had outcheated him. "We will game again, eh? Let me get some of dis back." The hutt laughed, and the tension was gone. Troy collected the chips and dumped them into an accounting droid. The game was over, and Troy had won.

He stayed behind, making more small talk and spending some of his money. Brooke calmed the losers down. Finally Troy decided to leave. Brooke caught up with him.

"Nice game," she said. Her sadness was there now, just below the surface.

"Couldn't have done it without you," he said. What could he say to her? His mind was tangled.

She put her hand on his arm. "Make sure you give me a call tomorrow. I need to ask you for a favour." Troy looked at her hand there, and she removed it quickly. She took a step back.

Troy put his jacket on and nodded. "Will do." He had the feeling that something was lurking there, left unsaid. He didn't know how to get at it. With Brooke he never knew. He smiled and walked to the door, turning as it opened to look at Brooke. She watched him, and he couldn't help but feel he had let her down somehow.

[Game notes - Brooke and Troy enjoyed a hefy bonus to Gambling when they worked together. 2D in d6, which probably works out to +4 in d20. Even with this bonus, Gulguthra had an advantage in skill, and when that last roll came down it was pretty exciting. But Troy won in the end, and walked out with a lot of cash.]

 

[LostSoul]

"So what are we waiting around here for?" Darius asked. They were standing in the lobby of one of the Casino's more expensive hotels. They drew stares from nearly everyone there. It's not everyday you see a fully armed and armoured bounty hunter. Nobody was willing to ask them to leave.

"Just making sure nothing happens," Troy answered, blowing out some smoke. He touched the blaster at his side. He had a feeling he'd be using it soon.

"Better be worth my time," Darius said.

"Trust me, it's worth it," Arthur offered. "This girl, Brooke, she's a knockout. When she talks to you, it's like nobody else is there. Just going to dinner with here will be reward enough." Feyd's eyes lit up. Darius harrumphed.

"So how do you plan to spend your cash?" Arthur asked Troy.

Troy flicked his cigarette onto the marble floor and put it out. "I was thinking of fixing up the Bee-A with some creature comforts. Maybe a hot tub, a couple of bars, the best selection of liquor this side of the core. The usual."

"Bessie doesn't look like much next to her," Arthur said with a resigned sigh.

"Bessie doesn't look like much next to anything," Darius said. Arthur shot him a look. Darius looked away towards the exit.

"," he said, "look."

A pair of Imperial troop transports had just pulled up to the hotel's entrance. Stormtroopers were filing out in organized deployment. Full squads with heavy weapons teams. Couldn't be a good sign.

"Move back, out of sight," Darius said.

The troopers rushed into the building. The elevator controls were overriden, and most filed in. A few remained, posting guard at the stair wells, entrance, and the elevator. Suddenly Darius didn't look so inconspicuous.

Troy's comlink flashed to life. "Troy." It was Brooke. "Are you there?" Sounds of blasters in the background. The comm flickered out for a second. "...your help. Imperial troopers have us pinned down. Hurry!" Another salvo of blaster fire and the comlink went dead.

Troy took off in a mad dash towards the stair well. Everyone else followed.

"Hold it," one of the troopers said, "this area is quarrantined by Imperial edict." Troy responded by squeezing off a bolt into the trooper's chest. He crumpled like paper.

Darius took the cue. In an instant, both of his hand cannons were firing. The other trooper guarding the stair well fell down smoking from three holes. The other storm troopers reacted.

"Rebel terrorists in the lobbey, heading up the east stair well." They'd have to make this quick. Troy continued his run up the stairs, Arthur on his heels. Darius fired off a few more shots and backed behind cover of the corner. Feyd stood next to him, his lightsabre humming with fierce intensity.

"Go on, I'll cover things down here." Feyd looked at Darius' masked face and ran up.

Daruis fired a few more shots, pinning down the storm troopers. Then he ran up the stairs, dropping a pair of grenades behind him. The explosion echoed in his ears and he smiled. All in a day's work.

--- Star Wars ---

Outside Brooke's suite a squad of storm troopers were moving in. Troy was the first to see them. He let loose with a couple bolts, winging one and taking another down. Seconds later, the rest of the group moved in. The troopers didn't last long between the combined fire.

Stepping over the downed storm trooper shells and the bloody rebel bodies, Troy spotted Brooke behind a scarred and burning couch. He ran to her and the couple embraced. "Oh god, it's good to see you," she said. "Another couple of minutes..."

Darius stepped into the room. "We're going to have to move quick. There'll be more coming soon." Feyd took up position in the doorway.

"They're here," Feyd said.

The troopers advanced to the door, and Feyd met them, vibro-bayonet against lightsabre. The troopers didn't stand a chance. One fell, then another. The Imperials backed off and regrouped.

"Grenade!" Feyd said, tumbling out of the doorway. A huge explosion followed on his heels. Feyd stepped to his feet and shook his head. Half the wall had been blown apart and a large hole was where the floor had been.

Darius seized on an idea. "Get down there!" he said, moving to the edge of the hole. He knelt down and fired off a few rounds in both directions down the hall. Everyone picked up on his plan and lept down to the next floor. Darius was the last to follow.

"Feyd, give me some cover," he said when he reached the lower level. "Everyone else, back up. I'm going to open up another grenade in here."

Feyd moved in front of Darius. His lightsabre whirled madly, blocking shot after shot. The troopers stopped shooting for a second, planning on co-ordinating their fire. Feyd had felt that before, and wasn't ready to go through it again.

Darius and Feyd lept back, Darius boosted by his rocket pack and Feyd by the Force. Another explosion, another hole. This time nobody wasted a second, and under the cover of smoke they made their way down to the next level.

"We can't keep doing this," Troy shouted. Darius nodded, and opened up on the window. It shattered and melted before his blasts. He stepped to the window and fired off a long steel cable that reached the hotel across the way. Another round and the windows across from them were blasted out.

"Go on," Darius said, digging his heels into the ground. Brooke was the first to go; taking off a scarf, she slid down the cable and into the open room across the divide.

The rest followed just as blaster bolts hit near Darius. Feyd was last; he looked at Darius in a moment of indecision, but decided to make the journey. Darius stood there, grunting with effort as he held up the far end of the cable.

Just as Feyd reached the other room, a bolt hit Darius square between the shoulders. He grunted in pain and cut off the cable. Feyd, in mid air, made a spectacular jump to safety. Darius spun around and fired his blasters.

Another pair of bolts just missed him. Fighting through the pain, he tossed another grenade and lept out the window. When he heard the explosion, he kicked in his rocket booster and guided himself to the ground.

--- Star Wars ---

"What the is that?" Troy shouted. He had nearly broken free of the Casino Royale's gravity well, but not the TIE fighters on his tail. A massive sensor imprint was flashing on his scanners.

"Imperial Star Destroyer," Arthur said over the comm. Piloting Bessie, Arthur weaved through the TIE's blasters with ease. Not so for Troy; hit after hit impacted on the hull. But the shields were strong and the hull moreso. "The Falstaff. I recognize it from the night of the purge."

The words hit home for Troy. He remembered seeing the looming image of the Falstaff orbiting Kalarba, firing down heavy turbolasers and sending shuttlecraft full of Imperial storm troopers. That was the last time he had seen his homeworld, burning behind him as he and Arthur jumped into hyperspace. And now the Falstaff was here, again.

Another blast rocked the Bee-A. "Focus on that customs ship out there!" It was closing fast. Troy knew just what it was capable of; he was flying the exact same make. And its pilots were better trained than he was. Its captain had a good reason to want them dead; it was Zabel Torsh, brother of Babel Torsh, the former captain of Troy's ship. He was still locked up somewhere in the brig.

Troy spotted a flash of light to his right. Brooke had taken down another TIE. It was true what they said: Norval II had some of the best pilots in the galaxy. He welcomed Brooke's abilities to his crew. He had missed them.

The ship rocked violently. Another blast found its mark. R2-FU beeped and wailed. The power flow regulators had taken a hit. This wasn't looking good.

The TIEs were coralling both ships towards the Star Destroyer. Soon they'd be within tractor beam range. They had one last chance; if they could break through the weakest point, maybe they'd make it.

They never got a chance. Another hit took out the engines and the ship stopped dead in space. Troy watched helplessly from his cockpit as Zabel Torsh overtook him and focused on Arthur and Bessie. Not even Arthur's piloting could hold up for long. In the end, the outcome was decided for him. The Star Destroyer locked on with tractor beams strong enough to move planetoids. Both ships moved inevitably towards the waiting docking bay.

--- Star Wars ---

Feyd awoke in the dark. He had no idea where he was. Overwhelmed by storm troopers, he had fallen. So had they all.

He knew he wasn't dead. The pain, aching in his joints and muscles and head told him that. He was cramped up, packed tight in a ball, no way to move. The pain cascaded through him.

He tried to relax himself through the Force. But the pain! Unable to concentrate. He tried to put it out of his mind. He focused on his breathing, on the beating of his heart. The pain was still there. He went deeper into himself. He felt the blood rushing through his veins. The pain lingered on. Deeper still. He felt the nerves firing, his synapses shooting off messages. That was where the pain was coming from. He focused on that, on the source of the pain itself, understanding and accepting it for what it was.

Time passed.

Finally, he found his concious self returning. This time the pain was gone. He reached out with the Force, trying to sense his friends. They were far off, but alive and well.

--- Star Wars ---

Troy woke in an opulent room. A window showed the vastness of empty space. The lights were dim. His head throbbed.

He sat up. He was on a bed, a bed so soft that he felt like he was floating. His clothes had been removed, and he was dressed in a fine set of silk pajamas. At the foot of the bed were some clothes. Nice ones. On the nightstand a glass of water and two pills.

Troy got up from the bed and drank the water. He put on the clothes. They fit well, tailored just for him. His blaster was gone, though.

Something about this didn't seem right.

His mind jumped to Brooke. Where was she? Was she all right? He would have to find out. He adjusted his clothes, straightened his hair, and walked out the door.

A large black table stood in the middle of a long, dark hall. Everyone else was sitting there, sipping drinks cautiously. Brooke was there. Troy felt a wave of relief wash over him. She looked regal and stubborn, defiant to the last. She was wearing a long evening gown and her hair was up. She stared across the table at a thin, tall man sitting in the dark.

"Troy Chance," the thin man said, "welcome. I trust you are feeling well?"

Troy said nothing and sat next to Brooke. She reached out and gripped his hand in hers, hard.

"Let me introduce myself," the thin man said. Troy looked at him. He was old but still had the vigor of youth. His face was cruel and hard. He stood at the head of the table, welcoming people whom he knew would kill him if given the chance. He acted as though he held them in the palm of his hand. He did, Troy thought.

"My name is Adar Darksun. I am a Moff in the service of his holiness, the Emperor. You are welcome guests here on my flagship, the Falstaff."

Searing hatred went round the table. Troy wanted to see this man dead before him. Brooke stared daggers at him. Arthur looked down at his empty plate in defeat. Darius was a simmering powder keg. And Feyd was... nowhere to be seen.

"Where the is Feyd?" Troy challenged. He spat his words out like hot lead. Darksun smiled.

"The youth you call Feyd is alive and well. He is in my custody, as you all are."

"Where the is he, you peice of ?" Darius yelled.

"Obviously not here. He has certain abilities that necessitate his removal from our pleasantries."

"Lock a kid up like that, it's not right," Darius said. "Standing behind your guards and lackies, you goddamned pussy."

Darksun smiled again. "Passion has not left you, Draven, not even after she did." Darius looked shocked, for once unable to find the proper curse. "Let me continue," Darksun said. "Many of you have reason to hate me. I can accept this. Many of you want to see me dead. This is how it must be. You know me well; I am the one who enabled your nemisis Alexi to take the throne of Kalarba and set it on fire.

"You wonder why I have brought you all here, alive and unharmed, when I am your enemy. You would not give me the same courtesy, I can assure you. This is how it must be. Your lives are important to me. Especially you, lost prince Denfrey.

"I have watched you for a time now in your futile attempts to flee the Emperor's grasp. This can never be, but you must continue your heroic quest. For it is what the Emperor wishes.

"The planet of Kalarba has intrigued his Holiness for some time now. There are secrets buried there, secrets that even He has not uncovered.

It is only Alexi who stands in the way of this. With him gone, He can uncover those things thought lost forever."

"What the does this have to do with any of us?" Troy yelled. "Why don't you just blast the er into nothing?"

"You are the bait in this game. You are the lure with which the Emperor will gain control of Kalarba and its secrets. And over Alexi himself. The dark prince has much power that could be put to His unfathomable desires. You will be the ones that will hand over Kalarba and the soul of Alexi to the Emperor."

"What the do we care about that ? Take him. Let him be the Emperor's bitch. We don't give a ." Troy looked across the table. Darius was quiet. But he didn't wear that usual taciturn mask. Something Darksun said had rattled him good.

"That is true. But you have no option other than to serve His plans. The further you fly, the further Alexi follows. Away from his home and his spirit. That is why I have hired Mr. Draven to watch over Arthur; that is why I'm letting you go."

So that's where Darius was getting these anonymous payments from. Well, if the Empire wants to pay him for it, let them. We could always do with some extra cash.

"But Feyd is staying," Brooke said.

"That is unfortunate. He is a cause of concern for his Holiness. We cannot let him go."

"You're kidding yourself if you think that we'll just let you take him." Darius spoke, but in a soft voice. He was shaken.

"You have no choice. Eat, drink, enjoy your stay. My guards will show you to your ships when it is time." Darksun left the room, but his presence did not. There was an empty void left there, something that no words or actions could fill.

" me," Darius said.

--- Star Wars ---

Brooke, Troy, and Darius watched the Star Destroyer slowly drift away from them in the cockpit of the Bee-A. No words were spoken. They were all thinking the same thing. Although they were desperate to be away, far away from Darksun, they couldn't help but feel like they were leaving something behind. Feyd had made an impression on them all. The innocent youth, full of potential, now helpless in the clutches of the

Empire. But there was nothing they could do.

"What're you guys looking at?" The question broke the silence. It was Feyd, standing there in the doorway, a bright smile on his face.

"Feyd?" Troy asked. "What - how -"

"The Force," he said. "Cages of metal and steel cannot hold one well versed in its ways. It gave me a chance to look deep into myself, to draw on reserves of strength I had never known existed."

"Well I'll be damned," Darius said. "Good to see you, kid."

"You too."

"Well, boys," Brooke said, "what say we get the hell out of here?"

[Stay tuned for Star Wars: Heroes of Kalarba, Episode V: The Path of Ancients!]

 

[LostSoul]

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away. . .

A vast sea of stars serves as the backdrop for the main title. War drums echo through the heavens as a roll-up slowly crawls into infinity.

STAR WARS

EPISODE V: The Path of the Ancients

Our heroes have gained a moment of
quiet rest. After scoring big in
a card game with Gulguthra du
Hutta, our heroes found themselves
the guests of Moff Darksun aboard
his flagship, the Falstaff.

Set free in accordance with
Darksun's sinister plan to take
control of Kalarba, our heroes have
reunited on Shownar to rest and
refuel before the beautiful Lady
Brooke Ashby leads them to a
nearby Rebel stronghold.

But enemies made long ago persue
our heroes, threatening their
destinies...


CUTSCENE:

An IMPERIAL CUSTOMS FRIGATE falls out of hyperspace, Shownar's rust red surface in the background. The polished chrome armour catches a star's light, reflecting towards the planet. The crusier turns towards the planet.

INT - CUSTOMS FRIGATE - BRIDGE

Three Imperial PILOTS sit at various controls, monitoring system controls and the ship's heading. Captain ZABEL TORSH sits above the crew in his command seat. Three men operate the ship's sensor suite.

PILOT: We've dropped out of hyperspace at Shownar, sir.

ZABEL TORSH: (to sensor operators) Scan the planet for any signs of my brother's ship. I will find Troy Chance.

EXT - SPACE

The Customs Frigate banks and heads towards Shownar.

CUT TO:

Berrol's Donn was a muddy, run-down refugee planet. Serving as the main resistance point for the entire quadrant, almost all rebel ships ended up here at one time or another. It was a great place to drop off any refugees or prisoners picked up along the way. The refugees had created their own small ghetto on the edge of the main rebel base, and many of them were recruited into service.

Darius was reminded of home. The place that he was born in, grew up, and left so many years ago. Run down, packed mud for streets, barely enough food to feed the starving. A place where wolves prosper and cubs grow fangs or die. Darius was one of the latter. He walked through one of the streets just on the edge of the base. People kept their distance. They had seen enough of guns and violence for a hundred lifetimes. Darius reminded them of what they so dearly tried to forget.

He spotted a small, pre-fabricated cantina down the street and made his way there. At the entrance a pair of winos slept through the day, lost in their own drunken worlds. The cantina was dark and dingy, lit with ancient oil lamps. A fire burned in a hollowed out cargo crate in the corner. The depression and hoplessness was overpowering. Darius sat at the bar and ordered a drink.

This place had it all. Whores watching gamblers wearing gaudy clothes, trying to impress. No credits on the table. The pot was made up of blasters, clips, and heirlooms lost long ago. A holo-music box sat dead in the corner, out of energy.

Darius took a drink. It was hard and burned its way down his throat. It warmed him up and he sighed.

Shouting in the back drew his attention. "Get out!" a man's voice shouted. A grease-covered cook opened the kitchen door. He had a small girl over his shoulder. The cook threw her to the ground.

Darius looked at her. She was a near-human, a halfer. Her skin was a pale shade of blue, like the sky high in the mountains. Tears ran down her grime-covered face. Her fingernails were cracked and blood was under them. She was tiny, a waif, desperate.

"If I catch you trying to steal food from here again, I'm going to turn you over to Big Treat!" It was a real threat.

She slowly stood up. Darius realized that she wasn't a girl at all, but a woman; so starved and beaten that she had lost her figure. But something in her face caught Darius' interest. Here eyes were large and wanting, her face rounded and smooth. Darius could see the lost beauty in her, beauty that had become secondary to simple survival.

She pulled herself up. Darius looked over. "You want something to eat?" he asked.

She looked at him with eyes that had seen too much. A moment passed, then she sat down next to the armoured man.

"She's a no good theif," the cook said. "You don't want her around you."

"I don't need your opinion. Just throw some meat on the grill." The cook looked down at his feet and turned away.

Darius offered her his drink. She took it cautiously, then took a long gulp. He face wrentched up in a grimace, but soon went away. Darius shot another look at the bartender and soon he had a new drink.

They said nothing until after she was done her meal. She wiped her face with a napkin, using the faded chrome of the plate for a mirror. Her tears and the grime was wiped away. She had a child-like innocence in her face, but her eyes spoke of things seen, things experienced, that would turn Darius grey.

"Darius," he said when she was finished.

"Hmm?" she looked at him.

"I'm Darius," he said.

"Tess," she replied. Her voice was deep and strong.

"How well do you know weapons and armour?" he asked.

"I've seen my fair share of them."

"Do you think you could keep mine in good condition?"

Her eyes lit up. "Yes!" she said, embarassed after the words came out. "Um... I can do that."

"That's good." Darius sat quietly. Tess watched him intently. He knew she was trying to decide whether she could trust him or not, whether he wanted something more than what he was asking for.

She was a good study of character. Darius got up and she followed him back to the Bee-A.

"This is my ship," he said. "You get room and board for free. I'll pay you ten credits a week." She smiled.

--- Star Wars ---

Troy was lounging in the Bee-A when Darius walked in. He had a small, thin, near-human woman with him. Her skin, where it was not covered with grime, was a pale shade of blue.

"This is Tess," he said. "She's going to be helping me out with my equipment."

Troy looked at her and back at him. He didn't like it much. He had already allowed Darius a bunk on the Bee-A, and now he was bringing in street trash.

"I thought you ought to know," Darius said. He turned to Tess. "You know where my bunk is; go shower up. You can put on one of my outfits, if you want." Tess nodded and left the room.

"Finding it hard to meet women these days?" Troy asked.

Darius glared at him. "Nothing like that. She's just here to keep my weapons and armour in repair."

"I'm sure."

"I don't care what you think. It's my business. I guess you've got no objections to letting her stay here?"

"Nope. Just make sure she gets herself clean."

Darius left. Troy didn't like this much. He didn't trust Darius with the young girl; he didn't think he should be using her like that. Taking someone so obviously desperate for anything... it wasn't good.

Then again, Troy thought, Darius hadn't shown much vice since he knew him. Arthur said he had been pretty much celibate when they were on Casino Royale for those six months. And he had proven himself in combat, willing to fight for them when it was Brooke who needed it. It was his buisiness, anyway. Troy shuffled his deck of sabaac cards and took a drink.

--- Star Wars ---

Brooke walked into the Bee-A's lounge. Troy, Darius, and Feyd were waiting there. Troy was teaching Feyd to play some variant of sabaac, but the youth didn't seem to be getting it. Darius was polishing a blaster silently.

"Well, that's it," she said. She was wearing a loose-fitting jumpsuit, belted tightly at the waist. Her hair was simple and she had no makeup on. "I've just resigned my comission from the alliance."

"Did they give you any trouble?" Troy asked.

"Ahh, you know," she said, walking to the drink cart. She turned and faced the rest of them, leaning against it. "It's over with now."

"So where to now?" Feyd asked. He didn't do a good job of covering up where he wanted the question to lead.

"Not to see your master," Troy answered. "I want to get this thing fixed up first. I've got some ideas for this place, to make it a little nicer." He looked around the lounge, an emptied crew bunk with a few gaudy benches and couches added. "First thing I'm going to do is get a bar put in."

Feyd looked down. He wondered if this is what his master had planned for. It had been nearly a year since he left their hidden base. And he had yet to convince Arthur to return with him. He hadn't even convinced Arthur to accept the Force.

And he still felt the anger in him. The anger that came when they first took the Bee-A. He could still see the face of the naval trooper he killed, overkilled, plunging his lightsabre deep through him until the twitching stopped. He still smelt the burning flesh and boiling blood. He didn't want to turn away from it, though. He wanted to face his actions and deal with them in the Jedi way.

Or did he? The anger gave him so much more power. It ran through his veins, beat with his heart, through every fibre of his being. It was a part of him now, and unlocked much of the Force that was hidden to him before. He could see it now, even in the lounge, the anger within him crying out for release, to reach out and subdue the living energies that surrounded everything and everyone.

"The closest non-Imperial port is at Ploorad, the sector capital," Brooke said after taking a sip. "It's a short trip, only a day or two."

"Maybe I can check up on my accounts," Darius said. "If that bastard Darksun wants to keep paying me, I'm not going to stop him."

"Ploorad, then," Troy said. "I'll let Arthur know and we'll leave this place."

--- Star Wars ---

Dinner in deep space. It was a good meal. The Bee-A's consumables were made for a full crew of some 24 men. They had hardly made a dent in the supplies, although the Captain's meals, the best ones, had already been finished. Thanks to Darius and his grill, the general crew's meals were much better, if a little greasy.

It was dinner on the first day when Brooke and Feyd met Tess. She followed Darius into the mess, still wearing her work clothes spotted with grease. Darius' clothes did not fit her at all. She had rolled up the sleeves of her shirt, but it fit her like a jacket. She had cleaned herself up, washed her hair and filed her nails. The beauty that Darius had first seen was more apparent now, and everyone could see it.

"Who's this?" Brooke asked with a smile on her face.

"This is Tess," Darius said. "She's going to be working for me." Feyd shot a troubled look at Troy, but Troy waved it off. Feyd seemed mollified by the gesture.

Brooke stood up and walked over to Tess. "Tessalonia," Brooke said, using the proper name, "I'm Lady Brooke Ashby." Brooke made a curtsey. "Pleased to meet you."

This seemed to put Tess at ease. She smiled and brushed her hair. "Nice to meet you," Tess said. Her voice was stronger still. She had not been broken.

"Come, sit with us," Brooke said, and waved her over to a seat. "What would you like? Darius is a good cook, but his meals are a little... rich for my tastes."

"It's okay," Tess said. "I'll have whatever you've got."

Brooke fixed her a plate and gave her a large glass of water. They chatted for a while, talking about girlish things. When the meal was done, Tess excused herself and headed back to the engineering bay.

"Where did you find her?" Brooke asked.

"Berrol's Donn," Darius said. "She was living on the street, stealing food to survive."

"How sweet of you," Brooke said. "But don't hurt her. She's still a fragile thing." There was a tone of threat in her voice and Darius picked up on it. He nodded.

Brooke was satisfied with that. "It'll be nice to have another woman on board. Living with you brutes was beginning to get to me." She smiled playfully, and Troy threw a small peice of food at her. She screamed girlishly, and returned it. Laughter went through everyone.

 

[LostSoul]

Ploorad was a busy and excited capital. It had seen its business increase dramatically since the Empire took control of most of the large starports in the mid-rim. Cheap, pre-fabricated metal towers sprung up with the influx of people. Ploorad had the feel of a boom town. Along with this feeling came a sense of danger. The economic explosion brought in a lot of shady characters that traditional Plooradians would rather not have seen.

Troy was gambling with one of them. His new "friend", Gulguthra the Hutt. Ploorad was his main area of operations. The Hutt had been getting set up here, and was doing well. Not so well, however, as to draw the attention of the Empire or his enemies in Hutt space. Gulguthra seemed pleasantly surprised to see Troy, a small celebrity now on the gambling circut, in one of his Casinos.

"I give you de discount for de purchases, eh?" Gulguthra had said. "But you agree to play wid me in de game." Troy looked forward to another game with the Hutt.

He didn't know that it would go badly for him. Brooke had made all the difference last time. Without her here, Troy wasn't quite as sharp. Troy was able to keep his losses down to a respectable amount - he was still extraordinarily wealthy - but losing hurt his pride.

"De losing come sometime," Gulguthra said when the game was over. "But maybe it not all be lost."

Troy looked at the Hutt. They were lounging in Gulguthra's private room overlooking a swanky nightclub. Twi'lek girls were serving them some of the galaxy's best liquor and food. Troy had his choice of quality cigars. He puffed silently in the room, looking down at the dancers below.

"I got word dat dere is a big treasure under de city," Gulguthra said. "Said to be worth de millions. Or t'ousands." The Hutt laughed. "And de life of one of my men."

Troy feigned disinterest. He didn't trust the Hutt, but if there was something valuable down there, something worth killing for and angering a Hutt... it might be worth it to him.

"I give you de disc dat my man was following," Gulguthra said. "It lead down in de sewers. You want it?"

"What's down there?"

"Don't know. Could be lots, could be nothing. Up to you."

Troy thought it over in his mind. "Sure, I'll take it."

"C'est bon! Good! Maybe I get de chance to repay you for beating you here, eh?"

--- Star Wars ---

"What are we looking for in here?" Darius asked. He was up to his knees in thick, syrupy water. It looked bad and smelled worse.

"Something valuable," Troy answered.

"Better be," Darius grumbled.

"You didn't have to come, you know. You could have stayed with your girlfriend on the Bee-A."

More grumbles.

"Let's keep moving," Feyd said. He was excited. Ever since they had landed on planet, he felt a strange sensation in the Force. He didn't know what to make of it then. Now, he felt it growing stronger and stronger. Something was down here, in all this dirt and decay. It had a strange feeling, not like Alexi, not like his master Til-Gon, but something else. Something he had felt before, but when he tried to fix on it, the feeling slipped out of his concious mind like a struggling fish.

"Where to next, then?" Brooke asked. She looked over Troy's shoulder at the datadisc. She didn't seem to be much bothered by the sewer. Then again, she was wearing a spare set of engineer's clothes she had raided from the Bee-A. Somehow a cocktail dress didn't seem to fit.

"I don't know," Troy said. "I can't make this out... I think we may have taken a wrong turn."

"Great," Darius moaned. He twiddled with his blasters, spinning them on his fingers.

"Well," Brooke said, "I guess we're not going back now. Let's just keep moving on."

--- Star Wars ---

About half an hour passed. It was obvious they were lost in the tunnels beneath Ploorad. Anxiety was building up.

"-look, I don't know where to go!" Troy shouted.

"I told you we should have taken that last right," Darius said. "Now we've got no bearings."

"Quiet," Feyd said softly.

"Whatever, Darius. I think we're going to come back on the main passage soon."

"You think? That's what got us into this trouble in the first place."

"Shut up, both of you," Brooke said.

"Hey, don't get uppity with me. This isn't my idea."

A shouting match started. Feyd was kneeling against one of the walls, trying to shut it all out.

"QUIET!" he shouted. Everyone stopped and looked at him.

"I think we're on the right path. To what, I don't know. I can sense something here. I'll be able to follow it if you just give me some peace and quiet." He concentrated. The feeling was strong. He was near its source. No... not near its source. Near something that reached out from it. Something like an arm grasping for him. There was something about this junction...

Feyd walked forward a few steps. His eyes lit up suddenly, and he drew his lightsabre in a smooth motion. Just as he did, the floor beneath him opened up and dropped him down.

"What the -" Darius said, but the tunnel shifted to a steep angle, dumping all of them down into the chute.

The ride was quick. They fell down hundreds of feet through the chute, sliding on and on until finally it ended. They hit the ground with a large thump, one on top of the other.

Something was different about these tunnels. No, everything was different. They had been dumped out onto a dry steel grate, free of rust and grime. They stood at the edge of a huge shaft, hundreds of feet apart. Other chutes were dumping water into here, but it was a clean, cool water like a mountain waterfall. From high up above, a beam of pure sunlight streamed down. The waterfalls caught it, reflected the light into hundreds of small rainbows. The mist sparkled, looking like jewels in the air. The air was clean and fresh. They were definitely somewhere else.

They untangled themselves, lost in the beauty of the waterfall. It was a needed sight that took away the pains and anxieties that had been building up to this point. It was an unexpected surprise, something that none of them ever had expected to see here, but here it was. This built its beauty all the more. There was a feeling of peace here, of tranquility, of the triumph of simple nature over the monstrous constructs that supported the metal world of Ploorad up above.

"Wow," someone said.

As they were taking in the sights, enjoying the simple pleasures of clean air and open space, a hidden door slid open. Standing there was an old, wizened man. He was a mix of flesh and metal, a harmonious mix of the two. He had the same air about him that the waterfall did. Peaceful, reserved, free of inner conflict.

"Welcome," he said. Everyone turned and looked at him. He looked at Feyd. "I knew you would find your way to our home."

He led them into a small, open area filled with strange gadgets and impossible constructs. Many other cyborgs, younger but with the same bearing as the old man, were working here. Working on datatapes, constructing artifacts, building and shaping metal with an artistic flair.

They nodded to the visitors, but were absorbed in their work. Only the old man spoke with them.

"This is one of the hidden lairs of our kind," he said, taking them into a small greenery. Somehow light filtered down here, giving life to the vines, flowers, and plants that covered the room. There was a heavy humidity in the air, one filled with life. "We are known across the galaxy as techno-mages."

"We've met one of your kind before," Feyd said. He could feel the Force within this place, ebbing and flowing. It went with the techno-mages and into their work.

"Ah, you speak of Payrd Sei de'Freet. A wild soul. He claims to seek only knowledge, but there is a schism within him. An inner conflict. This keeps him from understanding. He seeks knowledge for simple power, power over others. If he would only see the truth, he would not be of such a mind."

"What is that truth you speak of?" Feyd asked. He was hungry for learning. He had been away from his master for too long.

"That he is nothing. You sense this yourself, Jedi Padawan Feyd. But you have not yet accepted it. That is why the darkness gnaws at your soul."

Feyd looked down at his feet. He knew that he did sense that feeling, that emptyness and nothingness that the old techno-mage spoke of. But it was elusive. It evaded him as he searched for it. And where it left, the anger was there.

"So you know Payrd?" Troy said. "We've got a score to settle with him."

"All things develop as they will. For now, enjoy your stay. I fear it will not be long." The old man closed his eyes, and hidden couches appeared under retreating wildlife. A tray of drinks and food slid from out of the wall. "Enjoy yourselves here, as our guests. Feyd and I must speak on a great many things."

--- Star Wars ---

Feyd sat across from the old man, meditating in a large, rounded room. It was dark light twilight. Feyd wondered at these strange Force users, mystics binding flesh with metal. He had been taught that metal was a corrupting influence, a stain on the continuum of the Force.

Strange, then, that he sensed none of the Dark Side here.

Time passed unseen. The old man opened his eyes. "You have many questions," he said to Feyd.

"Yes." Feyd was unsure where to begin.

"At the beginning," The old man said in response to the unasked question.

"How is it that you are able to keep the Dark Side at bay when you combine yourselves with these metal implants?"

"The Force is everything," the old man said.

Feyd looked at him. "I don't understand."

"You must cast away your duality. It runs through the heart of your soul. You must see the Force for what it is; both everything and nothing."

"But what of the Dark Side?"

"What is my name?" the old man asked.

"I don't know," Feyd said.

"Choose."

"I don't understand."

"Now you are beginning to see. Tell me, what am I to you?"

"An old mystic."

"And 'old mystic', is this all that I am?"

"No."

"When I call you Feyd, is that all you are?"

"No."

"Why then, the name?"

"So I can tell things apart."

"And in the eyes of the Force, what are these things?"

"The Force?" Feyd asked. The man was silent. "The Force," Feyd stated.

"Even the finest teaching is not the Force itself. Even the finest name is insufficient to define it. Without words, the Force can be experienced, and without a name, it can be known."

Feyd began to see.

"Though words or names are not required to live one's life by the Force, to describe it, words and names are used, that we might better clarify the way of which we speak, without confusing it with other ways in which an individual might choose to live.

"Through knowledge, intellectual thought and words, the manifestations of the Force are known, but without such intellectual intent we might experience the Force itself.

"By using the means appropriate, we extend ourselves beyond the barriers of such complexity, and so experience the Force."

Feyd felt that which he called the "Dark Side" begin to slip away from him.

--- Star Wars ---

"Sensors scanning the planet now."

Zabel Torsh had been hunting for Troy Chance, murderer of his brother, since cursed Darksun let him go and robbed him of his vengance. He had followed the trail here, to Ploorad. If the informant was truthful, they would find him soon. If not... things would not go well for the informant. Zabel Torsh was not one to be cheated.

"Coming in now," the sensors operator said. "Many ships, but only one's broadcasting Imperial codes. It's reading as... the IFC B-A."

Finally! Zabel Torsh's heart leapt.

"Contact the Kalarba's Honour. Tell Alexi Ak'Heleth that we've found them."

--- Star Wars ---

Feyd was at peace now, more than he had been in a long time. It felt good. More than that, it felt right. He was able to sleep peacefully, uninterrupted with dreams or nightmares. He woke feeling refreshed and ready for the new day, whatever it might bring.

Something was still nagging at him, though. Was it the Dark Side? It was like a shadow on everything here. Something had changed during the night. Was it Feyd, or the techno-mages? He didn't know. He trusted that the Force would give him an answer.

Feyd walked back into the lounge. Troy, Brooke, and Darius were already up. Darius was tinkering with his weapons. Troy and Brooke sat silently together, sipping coffee. Another cup was there for Feyd, still steaming. It must have just been poured.

"Have a good sleep?" Troy asked. Brooke turned to look at Feyd.

"Yes," he said. The coffee was warm in his belly. It woke a feeling of hunger.

"You looked tired last night, once you got back. You guys talk about anything interesting?"

"Yes," Feyd said.

Brooke laughed. "He's getting to be as wordy as you are, Troy," she said.

Troy smiled. "A chip off the old block."

"What are you working on there, Darius?" Feyd asked. One of his blasters was open, its parts spilt all over the table.

"Upgrading this thing," he said. "These guys have tools and I've never seen before. I think I might be able to get about a third more power out of this baby."

"Looks like this adventure turned out well," Troy said.

"Yep." Darius' simple reply eased the tension between them.

The old man walked in, carrying a plate of food. He set it down before Feyd. Along with the food there was a strange device, something that looked like a datapad but had a strangeness in it. It was hand-crafted and a work of art, functional yet appealing to the eye.

"This is a translator," the old man said. "You will find it useful for decoding those data tapes you found on Criton's Point."

Feyd picked it up and looked it over. "Thank you," he said.

"Those tapes contain valuable information. Ancient tapes, old before the galaxy was young. Lost records of a lost people."

Feyd looked up at him, his breakfast forgotten for the moment. The old man continued.

"Ancient eons ago a people walked across the galaxy. They were ancient mystics that walked among the stars without need of ships. They commanded the power of stars, changed barren worlds into paradises, and worked with technology that is eons beyond even the our understanding. Yet they disappeared, long ago. The reason is lost in the mists of time. All we have now are relics, found on desolate planets across the galaxy. Ancient ships and constructs. A word or phrase in some long-forgotten folk tale on a distant planet. This is all that is left of them. These chambers are all that is left of one of their cities, one that once spanned the entire planet."

Feyd nodded with understanding. "My master has spoken of this before."

"A wise man. He will find your tapes invaluable."

"Anything in those tapes on blasters?" Darius asked. The old man approached him.

"Your work is good," he said. "These tools will help. You may take them for your own."

Darius smiled. "Cool," he said.

The old man continued. "If you cross-polarize the ion defluctuator, you will find you have solved the problem of dis-repeation." Darius looked at the parts strewn on the table; a look of inspiration came across his face.

"Yeah... yeah, that might just work!"

"We have gifts for you all," the old man said. He produced a vial of strange, silver liquid. It moved around in the vial of its own accord, looking like mercury with a soul. "This is for you, Troy Chance. Apply this to the outer hull of your ship, and it will greatly increase its resistance to damage." Troy accepted with a nod.

"And for you, Lady Ashby, a vial of the sweetest perfume. It is the last of a kind made millions of years ago by a great people of deep emotion. Apply it, and you will find that nobody can resist your suggestions." Brooke took this and slipped it into a pocket.

"For you, Feyd, the missing parts to your damaged lightsabre. You will be able to reconstruct your tool and weapon to its original design. If you take care, you will be able to improve on it, making the lightsabre your own." Feyd lit up.

"And for you, Prince Denfrey, a gift," the old man said. Arthur had just entered the lounge, his hair scruffy and sporting a thick face of stubble. The old man turned to face Arthur and handed him a small stone brick. "An ancient relic of your people, lost for many generations.

It will be of great use to you in the proper time."

Arthur looked over the stone. Nothing of apparent value, just a square stone brick. He looked disappointed as he looked around the room at everyone else.

"All in its time," the old man said.

--- Star Wars ---

Space ripped open and gave birth to a sleek, dark metal shape. It was long and bristled with weapons powerful enough to level cities in a single salvo. It banked slowly and cruised to the planet beneath it.

Alexi Ak'Heleth stood at his window, watching the planet approach in the distance. At last, he thought, at last I have caught up with him.

They cannot run from me now. I will not leave this planet without Arthur.

He reached out with the Force. Something was below him. Arthur was with it.

An unexpected challenge. But I will prevail. I must.

 

[LostSoul]

The web site

The past few days I've thrown together an admittedly crappy web site. Some RPG stuff there, this story, and another featuring Troy.

http://www.houseoflucas.com/dave/starwars/star_wars.htm

 

[LostSoul]

Feyd felt the growing shadow overwhelm him. Something was wrong. He looked at the old man. He knew it too. Feyd left the question unasked: What do we do? There was no answer from the old man.

A siren went off somewhere in the techno-mage complex. Troy spun round to look at it. Darius looked up, then down at his blaster parts, spread out piecemeal. He began to put them back together.

One of the younger techno-mages came in. He was holding a small holographic projector. Without a word he turned it on. The picture revealed the Kalarba's Honour, touching down on Ploorad, spitting out thousands and thousands of Imperial storm troopers. At their head was Alexi, cloaked in shadow. The hologram flickered.

"You know what he is here for," the old man said. "He will not be long in coming."

Feyd nodded and adjusted his robes, moving his lightsabre to an easier position. Troy looked at Brooke and Darius and then at Arthur. The prince's face was covered with fear.

The storm troopers made their way down into the sewers, blasting holes and moving with great speed, no concerns for anything but their objective. The hologram showed defenses springing up to stop them. Blasters and small shield generators. This held them. They did not hold Alexi.

He moved through the sewers, floating on the Force. Blasters did not stop him. He blocked them with his dark grey lightsabre. He cut his way through the rock and steel, down and down deeper into the catacombs beneath Ploorad. He would be here soon.

"I think we'd better get going," Troy said. "Got a back way out of this place?"

"Yes," the old man said. "I will lead you to it."

A crash at the door. The sound of a lightsabre humming with dark intensity. Alexi had already arrived, so soon. Sounds of combat, blasters fired and deflected away. Screams and cries of the techno-mages against him.

They made their way through the back of the complex to a larger open area. The old man pointed to a catwalk that led into shadows. "Follow this path. There is an escape pod that will send you to the surface." He then turned back. His cybernetic arm began to glow with an deep orange light.

Feyd watched him leave. He felt torn. His mission to bring Arthur to his master was the most important thing - but he couldn't just let the old man face Alexi alone. He wanted to help. He wanted to face down that familiar darkness and send it away.

The old man stopped at looked at Feyd. "Let the Force guide you here. You know what you will do." Feyd nodded solemnly and turned back to join with the others. Silence followed. Soon broken by the sounds of combat fierce and intense and deadly. And then it was over.

They arrived at a platform made of steel grating. It had rusted out but still held. An old escape pod, the kind seen on old ships, was somehow imbedded into the wall. Brooke opened the pod door and stepped in.

Just as she did so, Alexi landed on the platform. His dark lightsabre crackled with energy.

"Denfrey," he said, his voice echoing through the empty caverns. Arthur hid his face. "Come with me. Return to your planet and your people. Accept the inevitable. Secede. You know it is right. You have not the will to stand against the darkness. Accept my rule and end the pain of our people."

Darius was the first to give a response. It came from the barrels of his blasters, quick and terse and with no mistaking its meaning. Alexi's lightsabre flashed back and forth, blocking the blows as they came towards him. No energy expended. His eyes still on Arthur.

" me," Darius said.

Feyd stepped in front of Arthur. He ignited his lightsabre. "Turn back," he said. "You can't have him."

Alexi looked at Feyd. "A Jedi?" he sounded amused. "I had thought your kind gone, extinct. I was wrong. Move away or face death."

"I will not let you have him."

"How do you propose to stop me?" Alexi said. Feyd felt his will under attack, felt it crashing down. He drew on the Force, on those reserves that he had now seen within him, and pushed it back.

"Impressive," Alexi said.

this, Troy thought. He pulled out his blaster and took aim. Darius looked over at Troy and nodded. In an instant, both were firing hard and fast at Alexi. Bolt after bolt left their chambers, streaking through the darkness. None found their mark.

"Then we'll see how much you have learned, Jedi," Alexi said and moved in on Feyd.

Those watching could not later describe what was happening. The blades moved so fast, their bodies along with them, that it was all a blur of darkness and light. Feyd blocked and parried and retreated back. His defense did not fail. There was a groaning beneath them now, the grate straining under the pressure.

"Get in!" Brooke screamed from the pod. She began powering up its engines. Arthur crawled numbly into the pod, Troy behind him. Troy kept up fire on Alexi until his power cell went dead. He fumbled with a new one. Darius did the same, his blasters now glowing red at the tips.

"The Force is with me," Feyd said softly. "It is a wall that you cannot break down."

"You are strong, but there is a weakness in you that you deny." They continued fighting. "You are not yet ready to accept the Force or yourself."

And then it was over. One swift stroke was all it took in the end. Alexi's lightsabre bore down on Feyd, breaking through his defences, striking at his wrist, severing his hand. The Padawan cried out in pain and watched his lightsabre, still gripped by his hand, fall to the ground.

"The outcome was never in doubt," Alexi said. Feyd still trembled on the ground, clutching the stump at the end of his arm, writhing in pain. Alexi stood triumphant.

"I don't ing think so," Darius said. From his belt he grabbed a thermal detonator and, arming it, threw it at Alexi. Everyone stared aghast. In these small confines, they would all be reduced to ash.

Alexi snatched the detonator out of the air. "What - have you done?" he said, clutching the device tightly. It exploded in a burst of controlled flame around the dark jedi's fist. Alexi was thrown back into the empty space of the cavern and fell into the depths.

Darius grabbed Feyd and his disembodied hand and carried him to the escape pod. Troy was staring at him.

"What the hell did you do that for? We would have all been killed if he didn't - didn't take that on himself!"

"What the else was I supposed to do? Let's just get the out of here." He moved into the pod, shoving Troy out of the way. A relieved Brooke hit the ignition and the escape pod rocketed out of the depths of Ploorad.

--- Star Wars ---

Hours later, Alexi stepped back into the open air of Ploorad. He wore a scowl on his face. A burnt stump was all that remained of his hand. Zabel Torsh stood there, waiting for him.

"Did you find it, my lord?" the Imperial captain asked solemnly.

"Yes," Alexi said, "but not what I was after." Alexi walked past him towards the Kalarba's Honour. Zabel Torsh stood for a moment, looking at the sewer entrance, then followed Alexi back to his ship.

[Stay tuned for Star Wars: Heroes of Kalarba, Episode VI: A New Home!]

 

[LostSoul]

Act Two

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away. . .

A vast sea of stars serves as the backdrop for the main title. War drums echo through the heavens as a roll-up slowly crawls into infinity.

STAR WARS

EPISODE VI: A New Home

Hyperspace has saved our heroes
once again. Fleeing from Alexi,
ursurper of Kalarba and Dark Jedi,
they pass the time in the safety
of hyperspace while heading to
Jedi Knight Til-Gon's asteroid
base.

But the trip is marked by a deep
sense of anger and pain. Feyd
nurses a grevious wound. Troy
and Darius nearly come to blows.
Arthur seems lost in thought, and
a deep depression has overcome
Brooke.

But the future is yet unknown,
and things may turn in favour
of our heroes...


Troy was in a bad mood. He stomped into the lounge, looking for Darius. The bounty hunter was sitting there, on one of the new padded benches, drinking a cold dantic and smoking a heavy cigar. Tess was nearby, polishing a shoulder plate from Darius' armour.

"What the is this doing lying on the ground?" Troy shouted. He was holding a bandolier full of spare energy cells. "Pick up your goddamned mess."

Darius puffed on his cigar and blew out a big cloud of smoke. "Didn't know you were such a neat freak. Don't get your panties in a bind."

"Piss off."

"Make me."

Tess watched the two men square off against each other. Darius was still leaning back on the bench, but his eyes betrayed a prediliction for violence. Something had happened down on Ploorad, when they were exploring those sewers. They didn't want to talk about it. Darius had nothing to say. The first night in hyperspace, he got drunk and passed out. She didn't want to press the issue. They had been good to her, and she wasn't about to rock the boat.

Troy set his jaw. He was still miffed about the thermal detonator. Darius threw it, not expecting Alexi to absorb the blast. He did it expecting that they would all be caught in the inferno, blasted to nothing, reduced to ash. He didn't have the right to play with their lives like that, not his, not Arthur's, not Brooke's.

The tension in the lounge was cut by Brooke's voice out in the hall. "God-damned-ing-Imperial-wash-piece-of-," she was mumbling to herself. In the past few days, since they had left Ploorad, Brooke had not been much of the lady. She kept to herself, quiet and reserved, drinking a lot and smoking more.

"Look at what your piece of wash did to my top," she said. "Shrunk it right down. I can't wear it now."

"Don't worry about it," Troy said, anger on his voice. "It's just a top."

" you," Brooke said, and stormed out of the room. Tess got up quietly, setting the armour plate down as gently as she could, and followed Brooke. Troy watched her leave, stood for a moment glaring at Daruis, then poured himself a drink from the bar.

A beep went off from the new grill Darius had installed. He opened the lid and a rich, smoky meat smell washed out. Darius took a slab of beef and put it on a plate.

"Help yourself," he said to Troy, blowing smoke his way.

Troy downed the drink and filled a plate for himself.

--- Star Wars ---

Tess caught up with Brooke in the hall. Brooke was still cursing under her breath.

"Hey Brooke," Tess said.

Brooke stopped and turned. "Hmm?"

"Let's see that top of yours. It might still fit me."

Brooke looked at the top and back at Tess. "Sure, I don't need it any more." She tossed it to Tess, and continued down the hall to her quarters.

Tess stood there, alone in the hall, looking at the top. It would fit her, probably. A little tight, but still... she felt her eyes welling up with tears. She wiped them away with the back of her hand and cleared her throat.

Why do they have to fight with each other? she thought. They don't really feel this way. What happened down there? What was going on? Have I done something to piss them off? Why don't they just relax and get back to normal? I guess this was too good to last.

She walked back to her room, eyes down at the floor, a tear making its way down her small, rounded face and onto Brooke's top.

--- Star Wars ---

Feyd lay in the dark, holding his severed arm. He had not moved from his bunk since the Two-One-Bee droid had let him go from the med bay. He had failed. He could not overcome that feeling. He let down his friends, his master, himself when he faced Alexi. He was the only one who could have stood up against the Dark Side, and he failed. He was struck down like he was nothing. Had he not learned anything since he left Til-Gon?

He felt a pit of despair inside him. What if he was not cut out to be a jedi? What would he do then? He had no answers to these questions. Only a blank, empty void of despair. He chewed on his lower lip. He had failed, totally and completely. He was unable to resist the lure of the Dark Side - his brutal murder of the naval trooper proved that. He was unable to control the Force when he and Alexi fought. He was no "jedi". The word came out like a curse in his thoughts. He was nothing.

And what about Arthur? Since Feyd had known him, Arthur had become more and more of a recluse, retreating to his ship and the simple repairs he always seemed to be doing. One problem after another. Arthur rejected the Force, and Feyd with it. He should have been able to show Arthur the Way and the Path. But he couldn't. He was a poor example of a Jedi.

Feyd felt the plastic bacta cap on the end of his arm. He could still feel the edges of his hand there, but there was nothing.

--- Star Wars ---

After dinner Troy had retreated to the hot tub with a cooler full of drinks. Brooke joined him later. She was wearing a one-piece black suit with a single shoulder strap. They sat there in silence, drinking and smoking. Brooke closed her eyes and laid back, the tips of her short hair touching the water.

Darius walked in with Tess. She was wearing a two-piece bikini that fit rather snugly. She had put on a lot of weight in the weeks since they picked her up on Berrol's Donn. She looked more like the woman she was. Darius ushered her into the hot tub before him.

Troy leered at Tess when she entered the water. She felt his eyes on him and looked down at the water, burying herself up to the neck. Troy kept leering at her and she looked away. When Darius got in Brooke opened her eyes and looked at both of them. Darius shot Troy a look.

"How do you like the water?" Troy asked Tess. There was a tone in his voice, violent and threatening. But the question wasn't aimed at Tess. It went to Darius.

Tess didn't look at him. "It's okay," she said.

"It's better with a drink," Troy said, and tossed one over to her. Darius caught it in mid air and passed it to Tess. He glared at Troy.

"What, you want one too?"

"I'll get it myself."

"I've had enough of you two," Brooke said, rising out of the water and covering herself with a towel. "Why don't you just fight each other and get it over with. I'm fed up with this." She shook the excess water out of her hair and left the room.

"Yeah, what's your problem?" Darius asked. "You've been pissy since Ploorad."

"You know damn well."

"You mean the fight."

"Yeah, the fight."

"What? What was I supposed to do? Just sit there and watch him carve everyone up?"

"No, you were going to do that yourself with your detonator." Tess listened intently, not moving. So that was what happened.

"Hey, I didn't know what would happen. And it turned out good for all of us."

"Not Feyd," Troy said quietly.

"Yeah," Darius said. Tess noticed that some of the tension was gone. "I haven't seen him in days," Darius said.

"I'm sure he's okay. He just needs some time alone."

"I guess it's a good thing we're going to see his master. I don't know how to deal with the kid."

"He's not so difficult. You just have to understand his point of view."

"Yeah, I guess so." Silence followed. Both Troy and Darius started drinking. The building tension had been stopped and turned back. More drinks followed. Soon they were joking with each other about things. Tess watched from the outside, laughing. After a while she staggered out of the tub and passed out in her bunk.

 

[LostSoul]

I've updated the web site with something fancy.

I'm putting together a flash animation of the galaxy map. So far it looks pretty cool. If I do finish it, though, it's going to be huge.

Here's the url: Flash Galaxy Map

Click on the "Planets" link.