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Dahar only identified with a brief bit of Tobias's story. Dahar had died twice, but each time it was only a few hours before the Jedi had summoned his spirit to a clone body waiting for such occasion. He had never spent time walking in the darkness, or the light, or whatever it was. He wasn't sure if it was a better place. From Tobias's reactions it seemed to not be so black and white. He described this realm as the Chaos. Dahar believed a bit contrary, that amongst the Chaos there was order. But perhaps life after this would shed new light on this belief.

 

"Hmm, it certainly wasn't of my doing. Do you know, for sure, how long you were gone? What was the last thing you remember?" Dahar felt a chill inside recalling this next memory, "Not too long ago there was a great disturbance in the Force. Not your average-everyday-planet-annihilating-disturbance-in-the-Force. No, it felt like a rip. I don't know exactly how to describe it, but I bet the Sith felt it too. It wasn't dark, or light, it was just wrong. Maybe our ancestors felt it when they encountered the Voong, it was a momentary and terrifying absence of the Force. Like all the energy in the galaxy was gathered into one spot, not even for a second, but I've never felt so empty."

 

Dahar looked out the window at the fields that separated him from the city. The Jedi Master had inherited this house from his mentor. "You are right to say that there is light and dark in me. I've realized that it is necessary to know both sides to truly understand the Force. But at one point I wandered a bit too far down the dark path. It's taken a lot for me to cleanse the anger I allowed in. Now I have knowledge, and control. Or maybe just the illusion of control. As you said," Dahar let out a small laugh, "it's all chaos. A friend and I, he was an old Jedi Master, were doing work developing medicine for Taris's sick. He's one with the Force now, perhaps you brushed by him in your travels. And I'm actually thinking it's time to leave. I feel something Tobias, and I know I need to find out what, or where it is."

 

"The Force both guides and serves, something not all can truly understand."

Jedi Masters never die, they just fade away...

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  • 2 weeks later...

A rush of images ran through Vos's head. Almost as if someone stabbed a needle into his brain. Concentrating for a second, the images went away. The pain was still there. Scratching the side of his face, he thought on Dahar's question. "When you're out there... you lose all concept of time. You..." Hesitation. Tobias couldn't decide whether it was a pause to accept the truth, or to figure out the truth. Maybe the answer would scare Vos. Was it two years? Twenty? "Time is irrelevant. It has existed for years before, and will exist for years after us. The Force will always dictate when and where we leave. With cases like ours- where we pass away- it is up to the Force to let us back into this realm."

 

"I do not recall a disturbance that I have felt. I think I remember..." His voice trailed off again. He was unsure of what brought him to Taris. It was as if the time in Transcendence was slipping through his mind. "I remember leaving Aden..." Adenna... Tobias's eyes widened. He remembered calling to her through the echo's of transcendence, but couldn't recall if he ever found her. The pain in his head was more of a dull throb now.

 

"I remember my mistakes." His heart sank with the thought of Adenna, his ousting from either order, how he always joined with master whom had always abandoned him. "I remember you disappearing...But here we are now. You're thinking of leaving this hut, or this world? Or the known Galaxy? Because I don't remember specifics, but I can get us to the outskirts, and vanish- if that's what you want to do. But I think the Force has called me back for a reason, and the fact that it summoned me back here and you're the first person I saw... I think that means something. The Force may think you need help with your next chapter, and I am supposed to help you."

 

 

Vos reached out to the plate in front of him and lifted it up, ensuring that he still had access to the Force. Eyes locked on the plate, he thought for a second- aloud- "Maybe I am here to be your opposite once again, maybe I am sent to kill someone that this sickness was meant to kill, but you saved them. Time will tell what the Force wants." Tobias chuckled, the throbbing pain still constant in his head. The plate floated gently back down into place. "The Force is a curious thing...Not many people can tell what the next move is, or how the next move is done. Glad to see you are still good for some conversation, Dahar." The words were strong, but there was no hostility backing them.

 

Tobias rubbed his forehead. He had been gone for years, learned so much, and now it was fading away. Why did he have to come back? He was unsure of what exactly Transcendence was, but he knew he loved being in that state. Not the alone part, he missed Sooba terribly. But the part where he didn't have to worry about entanglements, he could just study and learn everything or anything he wanted. The Force needed him here for something, and until that something was completed, he would abide. Vos would abide. For now. It was going to be important to meditate later on, this headache was spreading.

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  • 1 month later...

The thought of disappearing, permanently, had crosses the Jedi Master's mind before. He was pretty secluded here, away from the Order, away from the things that had happened. He had felt the death of some of his former companions. Jedi of that power don't just vanish without a trace. Vapors of who they once were linger in the air and leave the sweet aroma of crossing over. But he could vanish even more, if he so chose. The outskirts were always an option, as was the Rishi Maze, or many places for that matter. The last Jedi Dahar had seen was his old friend Mijae, who had left him this hut.

 

"I think we've both done enough disappearing, don't you?" Dahar looked around at the place that had been his home these last few years. It was cozy, comfortable, soft. Something a Jedi couldn't afford to become. "I suppose leaving this hut would be a good idea. I don't suppose a ship manifested here with you, did it? We can travel into town, I have a few favors I can call in to get us off this rock."

 

The Force is a curious thing...Not many people can tell what the next move is, or how the next move is done. Dahar mulled this line over in his head for a moment. "The Force tells us the next move, and how to do it, Tobias. It might not be pleasant, there might be things you don't want to remember. But you are here. Now. Take a deep breath, ground yourself, and focus on the fact that you are here, part of all this, connected to everything around you."

 

Dahar grabbed a small satchel from the corner of the room, tossed it over his shoulder, and motioned towards the door.

Jedi Masters never die, they just fade away...

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Tobias looked over the mug in his hand. It was as if he could feel all of the atoms, as well as the Force bouncing off the container. "My dear, Dahar...." The Kiffar smiled, and inhaled. He had just gotten back to fresh air, and Dahar wanted to go onto a ship with recycled air. The thought played around in his mind, but he decided that it would be better to leave with Dahar now. "Disappearing has it's uses." Vos continued, "The ones who love you, those who admire you, will spread your tale for ages to come. Your enemies will either be relieved you are gone, panic when and how you come back. Some may obescess over where you may have gone. All are either advantages you gain to your goals, or retreat and regroup." The cup fell from Vos's hands in a controlled decent to the table. Standing, the new muscles cried with joy as they stretched and moved- still brand new.

 

Vos looked around, Dahar was right. It was always best not to stay in one place too long. Tobias could feel something coming for him, and he had to go else where. The Force was still mysterious as to it's goals, or if it had goals.

 

"Let us leave, then. Do you have anywhere you wish to visit? Any callings?" He took steps to the door. "I'll join with you and your mysterious bag for a while. Sorry, but I don't think a ship came here with me." The man chuckled.

 

As soon as he got to the door, he felt uneasy once again. Something or someone was watching him. Kiffar had a keen sense of that, at least Vos did. He did nothing to engage the feeling though, best not to let anyone suspect he knows.

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  • 4 weeks later...

Dahar smiled and looked out the window, there certainly wasn't a ship outside, Vos was right about that. "Hmm, I'm not sure how mysterious it is. An old tattered cloak holding some local tea, let me tell you I've never had anything like it. I don't often get attached to aesthetics but the aroma, flavor, color, ahh." Dahar realized he was rambling about tea... "Anyway, a few rations bars, and a decent amount of local currency. It may or may not be needed where we're going. Which for now is into the city." Dahar lead Tobias outside where the view from on top of his hill was stunning. You could see the city faintly in the distance at the bottom of the valley.

 

"It's a bit of a hike, but all downhill." Dahar took in the sun and the air around him. With each breath he was filled with the essence of the Force, the molecules going through a constant state of change. Some would call it the process of creation and destruction. But it's really just scrambling things around. "There's nothing new under the sun, Tobias. Not this one, or any other. You mentioned recycled air." Dahar held out his own arm, turning it over and back again. "WE are recycled air. Everything is recycled everything, right? I wonder, are we simply borrowing what we are... Where you went." Dahar had tasted death a few times, this wasn't the original meatbag he was born into, in fact it was the third. "I've been there, or so I think, but maybe not where you were. I don't recall it honestly. I remember the flames, then waking up in a kolto tank. In a pathetically weak shell of myself that took a few years to get back to its familiar shape.

 

But where you were, even there. Are we unique? Did you feel alone? Or part of something? I wonder if even our consciousness is just borrowed vibrations on borrowed times... bound together through this Force that so many claim to know so well."

 

Dahar had some interactions with Tobias before. They weren't the types of things you forget, although in this crazy galaxy they weren't all that out of the ordinary. "You know how I sensed you... all those years ago at the temple. I can feel both sides," Dahar paused for a moment, "No. No, that's not right. That's what they call it, but there are no sides, there just is. But I can feel all of it."

 

Dahar had spent some time training under Master Darkfire. It was during that experience that he was able to cleanse himself of the burden that he though he had, but never really did. Atonement wasn't necessary. There isn't a light or a dark, but there is a right and a wrong.

 

"I suppose... if I were to run into another Jedi... I would use the term "Light Side", because that is how most understand it. But let me tell you, Tobias, I've had a lot of time to look at, to understand things."

 

He talked as they worked their way down hill. Together they moved at a steady pace.

 

"I do have some place I want to go, although I'm not sure where it is. There was, I'm sure of it, an unprecedented disturbance in the Force. Maybe that's what brought you here. But I'm fairly certain that YOU are not the disturbance. I feel it in the farthest depths of my mind, just out of reach, and that hasn't changed with your presence. For now we're going to find a friend of mine who I'm fairly certain will have a decent transport for us."

Jedi Masters never die, they just fade away...

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Tobias listened on what Dahar had to say. There was hesitation in his voice, however scarce it maybe. Was Dahar still cautious about Vos? Perhaps. It would make sense, if an old acquaintance just appeared out of nowhere, Vos would be suspicious as well. As they hiked down the hill.

 

"I would like to describe to you where I was or what I was, but to be honest it is an experience that you need to feel. It is not some story that I can share. It was a mind blowing experience. Perhaps it was the way I was killed, the way I accepted it. I let the Force come and take me away. As a result I saw the essence of the..." Tobias trailed off. His eyes went wide as a flood of memories flashed through his mind. He knew he couldn't share them, but something triggered those memories.

 

"The Force is as it is- there should be no light side, or dark side. At least not the Faction. Mere mortals..." He trailed off again. It was too early to say anything about that. He hoped he had not given too much away. He was nervous about divulging the new Philosophy just yet. Although there was a new sense of purpose that was coming to his mind. But this is where the Force sent him. It sent him back to Dahar.

 

Dahar needs to do something. That will directly feed into what the Force wants Tobias to do. The Will of the Force, it will be done.

 

"Where are we going? Which world?" Tobias tried to transition to another topic.

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The urgency of the pull had been so intense that Dahar hadn't put all too much thought into the question. He knew he had to leave here. Something had happened far, far away.

 

"You know, Tobias, I'm not exactly sure. I have a feeling I'm being pulled more towards the core. And I think, although I'm not sure, that it may have something to do with the other Jedi." An ominous chill swept over Dahar, just for a second. "Alive or dead... I do not know."

 

The two had just entered the outskirts of the city. Dahar knew where he was going, a small cantina owned by his friend Jared. He had initially thought of going straight to the destination but remembered the interesting predicament Tobias was in.

 

There were crowds, noises, vendors, buildings, droids, animals...

 

Dahar grinned towards Tobias, gently patting the satchel over his shoulder, "We have a fair amount of credits, is there anything you'd like to do?"

Jedi Masters never die, they just fade away...

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The sight was nothing new at the bazaar, Tobias had seen these on a million different worlds. It was another thing to feel it. He remembered his former lives to where he used to meet spies, fornicate with the local ladies, start fights, and general destructive behavior. As Dahar asked if he wanted to stay for a moment, part of him wanted to give in. Pleasures of the flesh and mere trinkets that don't matter in the grand scheme of things. One could not buy the Force. The Force has you from the moment you awake in this realm to the moment you take you last breath. Sometimes even further, if you were lucky. Of course, things in this world had to be bought in the mad game of Credits.

 

"If we are going to be moving place to place, I suggest we earn some credits. If not, we need to move on. This is nothing more than a..." Tobias sighed. It was nothing but a distraction to slow them down.

 

There was a firecracker. Vos's attention snapped to it and something clicked inside his head. If the Force willed it, something would come to them. Tobias was still hesitant on seeking the Force out, what it wanted Vos and Dahar to do. Vos was put here, before Dahar for a reason. Dahar was important, was the next deduction. Good or bad kind of important, was the question. A thousand different outcomes came to mind.

 

"I'll follow your lead, Dahar. If we have enough credits, so be it."

 

The Kiffar's face went from excitement, inquisitive, now it was back to it's relaxed shape. An eased brow, and calm eyes.

 

He heaved a chuckle- What if he and Dahar found an Ancient Star Forge and tried to take over the galaxy? Could be possible, equally not so much. He preferred to not take on the entire galaxy.

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  • 2 weeks later...

"We have plenty of credits my friend, although they're only local currency, it will get us out of here. Interestingly enough, although I have fallen out of contact with the rest of the Jedi Council, I still have access to our account if we were to end up somewhere where galactic credits were needed. You know as well as I do though, Tobias, that the Force is a stronger ally than money."

 

Dahar knew his way around the city and before long they were at a small hangar. There was a man behind a desk tinkering with some apparent speeder part. Dahar reached into his pocket and produced a small token, it looked kind of like a coin, and gave it to the man. They exchanged a few words in the local dialect until the man pocketed the token and reached for a keycard underneath the desk. "Bay 12B" he spoke in a thick accent.

 

"This way, Tobias. I told you I had some favors I could call in. There should be a ship here for us with adequate capabilities to get us where we need to go. I sense..." the pain in Dahar's head had returned for a moment but it triggered something, as if the Force was speaking to him. "...that we need to go to Gala. I'm not sure why... I triggered the temple's self-destruct myself, I know there's nothing left." Dahar remembered the Sith attack on the temple all those years ago. He remembered grabbing the two core datacrons and stowing them away, then triggering the destruction of the temple and the Sith invaders inside. He also remembered that was the first time he had met Vos.

 

The keycard worked and allowed them into the hangar. The ship was there, as expected, a bit beat up looking but still in working order. He lead the two over and they climbed the ramp leading to the entrance. Dahar slid the keycard into the door... but nothing happened. He tried again to no avail. Curious and slightly frustrated he reached out with the Force to open the door, an old classic Jedi trick. He heard the mechanisms click and the door move but it only opened about two inches from the bottom.

 

"Well, this is unexpected." As the words slipped from the edge of Dahar's tongue his senses picked up a disturbance... behind them. With a quick motion his lightsaber was off his belt and in his hand, ignited, with the Jedi Master's back to the ship and front staring down the ominous party who had followed them into the hangar. Five of them, armored and well armed, the one in the middle looking a little better geared than the rest. Five blaster rifles were pointed at Dahar and Vos.

 

"Don't move, Jedi scum."

Jedi Masters never die, they just fade away...

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  • 2 weeks later...

Tobias followed along with Dahar, keeping tabs on all his senses. It was a bit of a shock to be around people, buildings. At least in this density. It's times like these where Sooba was missed terribly. Tobias could hardly recall his face. But he remembered the purr the beast used to make. A touch of sorrow came across the man's mind. Before Vos knew it they were entering a hanger and Dahar was talking to a rather unpleasent fellow. They spoke in a odd dialect, Vos concentrated on the man's body language. Something was off.

 

Reaching out, letting himself go- his mind fell on a vibration in the Force. Ever so slight, it was as though a flood of memories came over him. The memories weren't his, and they didn't make any sense. A headache set on, but that didn't stop Vos from trying to sort out these visions. It was as if there were people in the hanger before, talking, exchanging money, weapons, the works. Some deal. As Vos observed Dahar reach out to the Force as well, there was a pull behind them. Tobias slowly turned as five mercs, who looked all too familiar, held their weapons up.

 

Slurred at the Jedi. Being called a 'Jedi' was never something he experienced. Or at least remembered? Some bits and pieces were still hazy.

 

Dahar activated his lightsaber, Vos remained calm. There was a certain aura about him. He chuckled, breaking the tension.

 

"Haha!" His voice shot over the lightsaber noise. "You lad's are really loony. Me? Jedi? Far from it..." He chuckled again. He was inbetween, but he implied he was a Sith.

 

Vos connected the mercs to the vision he had, the visions were theirs! He reached out, pointing down the line. "I know you, all." He paused over each one.

 

Vos paused at the first merc on the flank. "You will die, horribly. My sympathies about being stuck in a vacuum."

Second merc- "You'll live into your elder years, but you will lose all feeling below your neck. You'll wish you died, but my friend will only wound you."

The lead merc, the middle- "You're just about to cut me off, and you are already squeezing on the trigger. Reflected blaster bolt to your neck.

The fourth- "You will never see the love in your daughter's eyes, I will take your eyes if you try to fight."

The last- "You'll live, but require medication for the rest of your life, well... all two years of what's left. You'll end up killing yourself to escape the mental torture that I can inflict on your mind."

 

Another chuckle, withdrawing his arm. Reaching out with the Force with all his capacity, he invited it in. It was such a rush, better than anything had ever felt, or at least remembered. Light and Dark surrounded the Kiffar, almost like years ago, where he floated inbetween. Now Tobias was going to embrace it, instead of fighting. The Force was the Force, no light or dark, just it's mysterious will and how it was used and harnessed. His confidence enhanced his will and in turn, his power with the Force.

 

"You will tell us why you're here, who hired you, and anything my friend wants to know." Tobias focused the Force onto the Mercs. His intent was to trick/force them into telling the lad's what they wanted to hear. "And to prove my point..."

 

Vos casually moved his hand as if moving an object, nothing visible, but he knew what he moved. All the particles of air were removed from near the merc's mouth. The first merc stumbled back, eyes wide with surprise. Dropping his rifle, he clutched around his neck, then clutching at the air. It looked as though he was suffocating. "You remember my remark about the vacuum? There's no oxygen around his face. I just made a small vacuum."

 

Vos was ready to fight, but all his effort was on those merc's and his trickery.

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  • 2 weeks later...

Tobias's display of power roused feelings that Dahar hadn't felt in a long time. He knew the subtle tug of the Dark Side and had answered it's call a few times in his life. He had trained with an old Grey Master on how to keep things in balance, how to know when was the right time to do what. The biggest lesson he learned was to let the Force guide him but never relinquish complete control. The Order were slaves, in Dahar's mind, to a dogma. He still considered them his friends, he still would fight for their cause, but he had been liberated. His old master used to say may with Force be with you and...

 

"May the Forth therve you well." Dahar whispered nearly inaudibly. Just loud enough for his companion to hear. He waited just a moment to see what their assassins would do. Would they flee? Would they fire? Would they answer questions? No, they weren't going to talk.

 

The first merc began to gasp for air, air that wasn't available to him. Tobias had already started the project of charging the particles around the man with the Force. Dahar didn't need too much effort to jump off that effect. Their power combined exponentially to envelope the man. The pressure around him dropped as the vacuum collapsed on his heart. Death was instantaneous. It may not have seemed like something a Jedi would do but Dahar knew the man wouldn't leave this encounter alive and didn't want to prolong his suffering.

 

Shocked and horrified three of the others opened fire at the group. With a swift swing of his wrist one of the bolts reflected back at the assassins, dead in the neck as Tobias has predicted. Dahar reached out across the room with a Force push. Having just performed a fairly complex feat he wasn't completely focused and only managed to hit one merc. He flew into the air, maybe ten feet, dropping his blaster. He collided into the wall and fell hard to the ground, motionless.

 

In the skirmish one of them, assumedly consumed with grief at the thought of never seeing his family again, made a run out the door and into the hall.

 

"What, did they not know who they were dealing with? It never thethses to amathe me the arrogance of gunth-for-hire." Dahar nodded towards the door towards the man who had left. "That could be our weak link." He ducked behind the ramp to the ship to avoid the blaster fire of the last man standing. "Do you want to work on thith one?" Dahar made a point to acknowledge that interrogation techniques may come in to play. "And I'll take the family man? Or do you want to thtick together?

Jedi Masters never die, they just fade away...

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The man collapsed. Vos wasn't in control of that vacuum. That was something he would have to work on later, but now they were getting shot at. One man crumpled after the blaster bolt was deflected into his neck. Dodging the shots with some know-how, he felt the adrenaline surge through his body. What a welcome feeling! The rush was almost too much to handle.

 

Somersaulting over the next bolt, one dashed off down the hallway. The Dark Side called to him in two ways- to let him go, and tell stories of what had happened. The other side of that was to hunt him down and scramble his brain. Or kill him, either one worked. The Light called to him to show mercy, to let him go. Maybe this was how it was supposed to be.

 

Dahar questioned going after the runner. It was difficult to get a read, but as he had just killed someone and the Jedi next to him had dropped a merc, the man's fate was sealed. He would live. The Light had to shine over the Dark, had to be the balance. That and it made Vos a little nervous to be off on his own again.

 

"No, we stay and focus on this guy. Leave the runner be." By now Vos had taken cover behind the ramp with Dahar. "Let me deal with this."

 

Pop pop pop. The mans blaster bolts were hitting the ramp, with fairly decent accuracy. The man was consistent. One shot... pause, two shot, short pause, three shot, long pause, four shot. Repeat in that pattern. Right as the second shot impacted, Vos poked his one eye around the ramp as the third shot impacted. The man hesitated just for a second, that was all Vos needed. Penetrating the man's head, he implanted the thought that the man was lost.

 

Silence came over the hanger. Vos flew around the corner, reaching into the merc's mind again. The man crumpled, almost as if he died that second. The merc shouted out, well, more like mumbled. The man had no control over his body or limbs. Vos walked over in a sort of a hesitation/stalkingish way, swaying side to side a little bit.

 

"I was right, you realize now?" Vos knelt next to the merc. The guards hands had let go of the blaster and were immobile to boot. His eyes screamed that he was terrified, because Vos was right. The Kiffar knelt, "You work for me now, understand?" He kept his voice low, but the statement was clear. It wasn't as if the merc had a choice, if he wanted to live. That's the code these rent-a-soldier follow- switching sides if it saves your life, do it. Vos was aware of this, but the words were laced with the Force, making sure they imprinted on Vos's new employee.

 

"You tell this man what he wants to know." Tobias pointed back at Dahar. His voice returned to a whisper- "And I will let you walk again."

 

The two locked eyes, the merc would do as Tobias said. He awaited Dahar's questions.

 

Vos looked at Dahar, "You don't need that anymore." Nodding at the lightsaber, "Our friend is going to tell you everything he knows."

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  • 3 weeks later...

The chaos came to a quick halt as Tobias pulled some definite bad-guy moves. Dahar wasn't opposed though. It seemed a bit mean but it obviously worked. The Jedi Master saber hissed away and was soon back at his belt. He approached Vos and the paralytic assassin.

 

Dahar wasn't an easy man to read. He didn't have a soft exterior as many Jedi did. He was, for the most part, a bit stoic and cold. It was a reflection of the serenity that the Force brought him. It was control. With determined eyes he knelt and said to the man. "Why..." Dahar paused, "are you here?"

 

It was clear the man wanted to speak. He was terrified, perhaps he didn't know where he was. Maybe he didn't even know why he was there. His mouth opened, and cracked, gasps came out and attempted to form words. It seemed breathing was becoming a harder task.

 

"What are you doing?" Dahar looked over at Tobias. A trickle of blood started to pour from the man's ear. His eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed. Motionless. Dead.

 

"Well isn't this just great." Dahar stood and brushed the dust from his pants. "What do you suppose the chances are the other one isn't gone yet?"

 

Dahar, who until this point had been kind of calling the shots, wiped his hand across the forehead and speaking to Tobais, "What do we do now? I assume you had a plan in killing him?"

Jedi Masters never die, they just fade away...

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Slowly, the man passed away. Right in Tobias's hands. A flicker of frustration- a light in his eyes. A split second as he quickly got into control over the emote. There was no way this could have happened with what Vos had done. It has been several years, but if it's one thing he learned from Slicer, it was to be in control of the situation. Even if you're failing, you had to be in control. How ever backwards that was... The blood was not of Vos's doing. There was nothing Vos had done, it was a pacification move. He reached out, feeling over the fresh corpse with the Force. Something was off. Something Tobias knew, but still didn't.

 

Poison? No, that was too much of an investment. Especially on low guys like these grunts. There was a middle man. But then why this tatic? Who was after Dahar? Tobias was less than a few hours old, there was no one who had that kind of intel. Slicer had disappeared. A shiver down his spine. Tobias knew better than that, the Mastermind was around, somewhere... If it wasn't poison, it obviously wasn't him or Dahar, or someone killing him. A slight rise in blood pressure and pulse rate, or it was one of Slicer's tricks. Classic Slicer move. Tobias gulped, controlling his emotions once again.

 

"There is more than this that meets the eye, Dahar."

 

Tobias rose to his feet. "Let us leave this place, I will explain on the way?" Tobias motioned towards the ship they were about to board. He would have to discuss this Slicer thing with Dahar. Did Dahar know Slicer? Even Vos's memory was blank on the subject. "Besides, that survivor will run back, tell them that he ran and we are alive. Either way..." Tobias walked towards the ramp, "I don't have money to pay for this mess, we should go."

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  • 5 months later...

“Lady Ques, welcome back to our facility,” said the immaculately dressed receptionist as he rose from his desk chair.”

 

The lady in question responded curtly, not even bother to lower her nose to look young man’s way, “Summon Dr. Kohl.”

 

Wordlessly, the receptionist pressed he intercom button on his desk and said to the microphone clipped to his colar,”Paging Dr. Kohl, Paging Dr. Kohl to reception.”

 

No one summond Dr. Kohl, no one except Lady Ques. A few seconds later, a male Kaminoan entered the room and bowed to the woman

.

“Greetings, Lady Ques. The lasts of your father’s cones successfually completed his trials yesterday. We’ll be putting him into th galaxy at large. Would you care to see a demonstration."

 

“Yes. My mother grows impatient waiting to see which of the three clones will survive to become her reincarnated husband.”

 

“Please follow me,” said the Doctor. “I’ll notify by staff of the change of plans.”

 

The doctor, without ookin , seept his way through a pair of doors with the words, “Val Ques Center for Genetic and Nanotechnological Research.”

 

Lady Ques followed, high heels clicking as she caught up wth Dr. Kohl who began speaking once she walked beside him.

 

“Your father’s generous bequest to create the Taris facility has been used widely and the breakthroughs and insights gained allowed your father’s clones to reach maturity and complete their flash based training in record time while meeting the parameters we discussed.”

 

“Good,” was the terse reply.

 

The two proceeded through a set of twin doors marked ‘Authorized Personnel Only’. Only after Dr. Kohl passed retinal and showed his I.D. to a guard behind a blaster resistant glass panel.

 

“Before we begin, Lady Ques, do you know if your father was Force Sensitive?”

 

“As I have said before,” said the Lady impatience in her voice, “we are Miralauka. By our nature our race is Force Sensitive. If you are asking if my father was a devotee of the Jedi, Sith or something in-between, only my mother might know and she has said nothing to me. Why do you ask yet again?”

 

“All three of the final clones showed a disposition to becoming Force sensitive. The last has been particularly difficult and may be drawn to the Force after release.”

 

“That will be his choice,” said Lady Ques.

 

A chime rang on the Doctor’s wrist padd. He smiled at the Lady as an apology and raised his arm to check the message.

 

“Our demonstrations ready. Please watch the wall. If you need hard statistics, they will be displayed on the side walls next to the screen.

 

“Yard 4,” said the Doctor and the wall before them lit up the room with an image of two figures in a training yard many miles away from where they stood yet apart of the institute’s immense campus.

 

Both started dispassionately at the two figures.

 

Unaware they were being watched, the third clone of Val Ques, known to the staff and Lady as A1-E3 and his trainer circled each other. Both held metallic looking staves held in guard positions.

 

“Who is his trainer?” asked the Lady.

 

“In case one of the clones killed someone, we cloned backups of all the trainers. In her original life, she was a retired Imperial guardsman.”

 

“My father ordered the best,” she said without a hint of courtesy.

 

“His trainer is IG-1071C, three times champion of Carida in Teras Kasi and 3rd level master in the Enchani arts on top of 30 years as an Imperial Storm Trooper.” She personally accounted for four Jedi Knights, a half dozen Wookies hand to hand and fought everywhere from Hoth to Dubrillion, eventually rising to command a stormtrooper legion under Grand Admiral Thrawn before her retirement.”

 

“Administrative Retirement?” asked the Lady, using a well-known euphemism for storm troopers that lived beyond their useful service years.

 

“No,” said the Doctor. “Her troops nicknamed her the Iron Lady with a great deal of affection because her training and tactics helped bring them home, often leading tirelessly from the front when many others might have given up.”

 

Both remained impassive when IG-1071C kicked A1-E3 in the ankle, a move followed by the sound of bones breaking before a pair of kicks caught him on the chest and jaw respectively.

 

The Lady’s face twitched once when despite the pain, A1-E3 somehow stayed on his feet and returned the blows with his staff. The strikes caused similar sounds as before, with both fighter’s eventually falling to the ground.

 

A chime sounded in the Doctor’s bracer. He looked down and replied to the built in comm-link. “See to it both receive bacta treatments. Put A1-E3 in the sim tank and begin the avatar program.”

 

Turning to Lady Ques, the doctor said, “We have a few moments before the tank is ready. You should know that’s the 1st tie IG-1071C’s has ever suffered. Everything else has been knockout or death.

 

“So, even without the Force, A1-E3 is the best at hand to hand of my father’s three clones?”

 

The doctor stared at his notes for a moment for a moment. Had the Lady Ques been actually watching him, she might have seen a brief hint of worry pass over the doctor’s face.

 

“That’s why I’ve asked some many times about your father. The E3’s reflexes are twice that of the Force sensitive clone we sold to the Sith, yet we have been unable to detect any usage of the Force. According to the director responsible for his training, it would take both of the other clones on their release day to deal with him if he was unarmed and they were.

 

A chime sounded from the wall sized view-screen, which went solid gray before showing them several different images of A1-E3 standing on the bridge f an Imperial II class destroyer with what looked like a skeleton crew.

 

Standing next to him was an Imperial captain watching a raging battle outside the ship’s combat shields.

 

A voice came over the simulated ship’s comm system. “Destroyer Baccaur, proceed to objective. Blue wing, provide cover and escort.

 

The screen split at a command from the doctor, one showing the bridge of the Baccaur, the other showed an exterior, bird’s eye view. As they watched mutely, Baccaur proceeded to break formation along with an escort of support ships and fighters and ponderously move towards the planet.

 

After 5 minutes, Baccaur began orbiting the unnamed world, showing serious damage throughout its superstructure and struggling to remain fighting.

The captain next to A1-E3 began incoherently screaming at his bridge crew about needing to return to the battle line.

 

“During the original battle, the Baccaur attempted to withdraw to the original battle line and ended in a very spectacular loss. The Imperial’s eventually withdrew from the planet.

 

“So, what is A1-E3 doing?”

 

“At the moment, ordering security to remove the captain from the bridge. As for the rest, I assume he is using his Avatar mode to link with the ship’s central computer and expand his ability to compute possible solutions at truly terrifying speeds while retaining humanoid creativity. The result, I believe, is what you are about to see.”

 

Tie bombers began emerging from Baccaur’s bays and spit off towards the planet’s surface. Somone on the opposing side must have made a decision as some of the defending ships split off the main attack and chased the bombers.

 

The sudden reduction in attackers gave the Imps a necessary breather and the defenders payed a price, falling prey to the Imperial ships and leaving their planet unguarded.

 

Security guards whom had held the Captain on the bridge finally led him away.

 

On screen, A1-E3 informed the task force commander of their arrival whose voice immediately ordered the ship to commence ‘Base Delta Zero’ bombardment.

The Baccaur’s turbolaser’s began turning towards the planet, only to have shouts sound from the various bridge personnel.

 

“System Failure in Main Batter cooling,” came one shout.

 

Someone else shouted, “Unknown signal disrupting targeting systems.”

 

The Lady Ques looked over at the doctor whom pointed towards one of the side panels which showed the overall damage to the Baccaur. The indicated system flashed as working while another showed that no signal emanated from other than the Imperial fleet.

 

She looked over at the Doctor even as a third shout went up from the bridge crew.

 

“Reactor containment breach imminent. Evacuate, Evacuate!”

 

Again the display indicated the indicated system to be functioning properly.

 

The doctor’s eyes widened as he saw the Lady smile directly at him.

 

“My father’s personality seems to be asserting itself. You can end the scenario doctor, I can see what’s coming next already. The Baccaur’s crew will soon be evacuated and the ship will be turned on the Imperials. I am betting my father has already been bought off by a rebellion sympathizer?”

 

“For a great deal of credits, yes,” said the doctor turning off the screen. “Even better, there’s a small rebel fighter standing by to rescue your father when tdhe big ship is destroyed.”

 

“He never was one to pass up profit,” she quietly said. “So what’s the next step?”

 

“A1-E3 goes into the galaxy at large within a week after a fake hit upon the facility. When he comes out of Bacta, he will find himself placed with IG-1071C. We have inhibitor chips placed to keep them from becoming sexually attracted to one another.”

 

“That’s a risk?” asked the lady.

 

“Very much so. The two previous clones both became romantically involved with her. One left her for the Jedi order, the other seduced her on orders from his master than tortured her for months before feeding her to a rancor.”

 

“Ruthless.”

 

“Yes.”

 

 

One week later

 

A1-E3 and IG-1071C found themselves assigned to a suite of rooms together a situation both found remarkable unexciting until today. As usual, he sat down at his desk terminal after a long day of training while IG went to take a shower, stripping down on her side of the room and tossing the ubiquitous training gear into a waiting slot before moving towards the bathroom with a towel in hand.

 

For the first time, he really noticed her and found himself completely distracted from what he was about to do. She turned, smiled, and he felt his pulse skyrocket as a realization dawned on him she wanted him to see her.

 

She flounced into the bathroom and he tried to shake his head to clear it and failed. Struggling with his passion he managed to attach a lead from the terminal to a port located near his right ear. Immediately, he found himself emerging into a customized UI where another companion awaited him.

 

“Hey HL-1,” said A1-E3, greeting the UI’s interpretation of the rogue droid that lived far below Taris’ Eucenopolis. The droid was his only friend outside of the institute, after having hacked its way into his UI over a year ago.

 

As always, the droid was all business

 

“Got a couple of new items for you,” said HL. “1st is the inhibitor chips you and that IG clone had within you. Shut’em down. Don’t worry, your jailors don’t know about it, made’em think the little gadgets are still functioning. You should enjoy the results.”

 

The droid paused in a too Miraluaka way.

 

“Managed to get you some basic supplies to help you survive the coming raid on that facility. Some basic weapons, armor, and other gear are stowed in a bin just outside the door. When the raid comes, grab the gear and head towards that shuttle we talked about. I will meet you there.”

 

A1-E3 wanted to ask more but the droid raised an appendage.

 

“Not now. Your roommates in that shower alone and you should enjoy not having that chip messing with you while you can.”

 

The UI abruptly ended, throwing A1-E3 back into the real world and the very undeniable needs of his attraction to IG-1071C. He went towards the ‘fresher, removing clothes as he did so.

 

He just stepped over the threshold of the room when he heard IG say, “Took you long enough. Now go close the door before the hot air gets out and come here.”

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  • 4 months later...

Aiwanee watched IG disappear around a nearby intersection with a great deal of trepidation. Since being awoken by the facilities warning klaxons, the two had been making their way steadily along the path laid out for him by HL-1. Between facility guards and their attackers, their progress seemed destined to take forever.

Worse, IG seemed impatient, frustrated and prone to taking excessive risks. The woman charged at whole groups of combatants from both sides, with either her carbine spitting heavy plasma death at anyone unlucky enough to be in her way or her lightsaber pike cleaving bodies in twain. She never seemed to tire, never seemed to rest, desire seemingly fueling her drive to get them where they needed to be.

 

He worried about the trail they left behind, wandering if anyone survived their attacks as witnesses to their flights despite his best efforts to prevent that from happening when a few moments appeared between battles. Aiwanee soon found that wearying and found it easier just to use seized weapons to execute those few who survived.

 

He found himself carrying a heavy blaster pistol, a red bladed shoto, wearing light battle armor over an institute sensor suit, a heavy blaster rifle and a wrist style mini rocket launcher. The rifle came from one of the guards he killed and seemed to be a standard issue for most of the guards there so he had plenty of power packs after looting some of the bodies. A light helmet with comm system and electronic visor completed his find from their cache.

 

A battle broke out from around the intersection, the sound of IG’s force pike and the fire from a lot of blasters made him rush to the corner to find what she encountered. He ran into her backside as she retreated from looked to be a half a dozen mercs supported by a heavy combat droid. Reaching out, he pulled her back around the corner as the droid unleashed a stunning volume of fire where she’d just been.

 

As she fell beside him, he twisted to steal a kiss on her lips before she scrambled to regain her feet.

 

“Stay alive, will you?” he screamed over the din.

 

She shook her head, an angry scowl crossing her face because of either the droid, him or both. His feelings centered on keeping her alive and them together and if that made her angry so be it.

 

Peeking around the corner, he looked to see the droid and the mercs in the same position they had been moments before. Only the droid did not fire and the mercs looked confused by the sudden cessation of their fire support.

 

“Aiwanee, you need to get moving. I can’t hold the airlock against the institute’s guardsman much longer. If you want this lander, you are going to get moving,” said HL-1.

 

“If you don’t mind, I hacked two heavy battle droids to escort you there. Call them Somnus and Thanatos when you need their attention.”

“You’re monitoring our progress?”

 

“Thanks to those institute suits you are wearing. When you get here, make sure you discipline IG. She’s expecting it.”

 

“Huh?” asked Aiwanne, only half paying attention to HL-1. Around the corner, the battle droid had turned on its former comrades, slaughtering them mercilessly. The slaughter almost made Aiwanee feel bad for the raiders. Almost.

 

“Former Imperial Guardsman, remember? For taking the risks she’s taking, someone in her chain of command would be ordering her punishment before she even finished her mission which she is jeopardizing with her impatience.”

 

IG’s hand tapped his shoulder quizzically, as if wanting to know what was going on. He realized HL must be cutting her out of the conversation.

 

When he motioned her to wait, she attempted to storm past him and made it about 10 feet before running into the wall made by two combat droids that absolutely refused to yield to her.

 

HL-1’s voice came into his ears with advice. “On second thought, your left bracer holds a touch display. I am bringing up her behavior modification system for her. Select a body part, select the level of pain or pleasure and let her know you’re the boss.”

 

“What? Wait, can you do this to me?” asked Aiwanee as he watched IG turn around, her face hard and suffused with anger.

 

“No, her suit was modified by the institute long before you were decanted. And you better hurry with that pain module.”

 

One good look into IG’s eyes convinced him HL’s suggestion had merit. He raised this left bracer, started at the options for a moment and touched the display’s representation. The figure on the screen rotated slightly until it stood in a three-quarter profile. He tapped HL’s shoulder, selected a medium pain setting and touched initialize.

 

IG staggered but kept coming, the fury in her eyes making him select another section of the figure on the screen. He hesitated only slightly before selecting the muscles of her abdomen as a target. He set the pain to max and initiated.

 

IG stopped in her tracks and eventually collapsed. After the pain rain its course, she looked up at him with something new in her eyes, something feral yet disciplined. That faded to be replaced by reason, sanity, and something like awe. The sequence chilled his soul yet left him feeling more than a little powerful.

 

“Oooh, that was interesting,” chimed in HL. “Looks like your IG now belongs to you, heart, mind and soul.”

 

“What are you talking about and how much can you see.”

 

“Everything, and it should be obvious. In IG’s eyes, you’re her commander, lover, and owner in one fell swoop. The institute did a very interesting programming job on her mind.”

 

“She’s a droid?”

 

“Nope, a human whose behavioral patterns were ‘preprogrammed’ into her. Not sure she was supposed to be yours but now she is. How about you get moving and get down here.”

 

“On the way,” said Aiwanne, ”feeling the tremors of shock in his own voice.” Horror, wonder and a slew of other emotions raged and warred just below conscious thought as they began steadily moving on the path set by HL-1.

 

Nearly an hour later they peeked around a final counter to see a half dozen guards standing before the door to the hangar where HL-1 waited. The hissing of a plasma torch alerted them that the guards had decided to cut their way past the door.

 

IG stayed with him this time, though the cold look in her eyes had him wondering if his earlier disciplining her made her more dangerous than before.

 

He almost signaled the two droids to venture forward and slaughter the guards when movement from another hallway caused him to reconsider the move and wait. When he turned back around the corner to see what the moment yielded, he saw the original guardsman supplanted by another half dozen and a woman whose presence screamed authority.

 

He felt IG’s presence beside him and turned to see her focused on the young woman now talking to the guards at the hangar entrance. She pulled him back around the corner.

 

“Someone important with combat training and access to wealth”, she said.

 

“How do you know?”

 

“Vibrosword on her back, custom armor and blaster at her side and the way those mercs defer to her. Let’s try and take her alive.”

 

He looked at her a moment trying to figure out what was going on with her. It seemed a lot of secrets needed to be unwound if they made it out of here.

 

“Stun only,” said Aiwanee motioning the two droids forward. They moved past him and unloaded a massive amount of blasts at the mercenaries.

 

A smile twitched across IG’s face as the droids began their assault upon their targets. Almost immediately, pieces of armor from the droids began flying about the hallway. Aiwanee and IG added their firepower to the mix and quickly found themselves barely holding their own. The mercs were very good, nearly good until the interior hanger doors opened and a half dozen stun grenades followed by a flurry of badly aimed stun bolts drove the mercs out of their cover. The battle quickly ended, but not before one of the combat droids shut to protect its core.

 

Their target remained standing and very defiant to the last. It took the combined fury of all of them to finally bring her down.

 

As they stood in the aftermath of the battle, a droid emerged from the hanger bay. Aiwanee traded a look with IG as what appeared to be a destroyer droid with blocky Miralauka features and six arms armed with four heavy blaster pistols and a pair of grenade launchers emerged.

 

“A1 and IG. ‘Bout time you got here.”

 

“HL?” asked Aiwanee.

 

“The same,” said the droid. “Now if you don’t mind, why don’t you get on board our ship and bring that young woman with you. She’s was a great deal of trouble earlier and I want to know whom she is.”

 

After quickly removing a few credits and other items from the mercs, IG and Aiwanee slapped a pair of stun bracelets upon the woman’s wrists and ankles and carried her to the Lambda class shuttle sitting in the hanger.

 

“Welcome to your new home. ‘Fraid it’s a bit Spartan at the moment, but we have an appointment in the ruins of the Dac system to add some weapons and other accommadations to the ship.”

A moment later, the ship blasted from the hanger and into the Taris sky on its way towards the Dac system.

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  • 1 month later...

Dahar listened intently. He had a great amount of respect for the man who had been both Jedi Darkfire and Darth Ares.

 

"I think, with all due respect Aryian, that you might have me mistaken for an ordinary Jedi." Dahar was aware that some of the views he held were revolutionary. That was the point he was trying to get across. He didn't realize that his wish to be something more could be dangerous. "I just see a coin, per your analogy, a lump of metal. It just is. I can use it to buy spice, to feed the poor, to hire an assassin, or to invest in the acquisition of more coins. I've been hesitant to say this to anyone, but I don't even think I believe in the Dark and the Light as entities, or at least separate entities."

 

Dahar struggled to see if he was indeed off somewhere in his perception. "I guess though, if I truly believed that, the things I wanted to know would just come to me. There must be somewhere inside of me that is still clinging to picking a side. There are things I can do when in a certain state of mind that I can't do when in others. Maybe this is where I'm off, why I can't tap into the abilities I know the Dark can bring. Or am I looking at that wrong too?"

 

The ship slowed, the engines whirred and beeps when off. They were making their arrival at Taris.

 

The ship touched down near Dahar's old home. There was a small village not too far off inhabited by your typical villager types. Average people making a meager living. Content and blissfully unaware of the comings and goings of the galaxy.

 

For a few years Dahar lived with his friend and mentor, an old Jedi who had strayed from the beaten path. The man was a master in healing, medicine, and chemical working. He had trained Dahar in some of his skills and left him his home and lab. After the man died Dahar lived there for a few years alone. He became kind of the local medicine man, offering healing and support to the village. Before leaving he had developed a cure for a disease that had been plaguing the planet. He distributed it to the village and left the plans for reproduction. What the Grandmaster didn't know was that in the months that he had been gone that word of his deeds had spread. He had become a hero of Taris.

 

The Jedi lead his companion out the ship and into his small Obi-Wan-ish home.

 

"What I do want to know from you, Master Darkfire, is why you think this knowledge for me could be problematic? Wouldn't it be a benefit to enlighten the Order, to build upon the structure already there? We could be pragmatic instead of dogmatic.

 

To reach the end of... all of this... I need to know how the others operate. The abilities that it seems only the Sith can tame. Can you teach me this?"

Jedi Masters never die, they just fade away...

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Aryian took a chair, reconsidering what he had just said based on Dahar's new input.

 

"Normally, Masters of either Order are so indoctrinated by the standard curriculum that they are blinded to other perspectives. The Grandmaster is usually in charge of enforcing that dogma. But, I could have been wrong. You could be closer to my perspective than I initially had thought."

 

The Grey Master looked around, but didn't really see any food in the hut. Not out in the open, anyways, there was probably a stocked cooling unit squirrelled away.

 

"But if you truly wish to understand the Dark Side, to be able to tap into it and use it, then you must understand how they think as well, and understand their perspective. Many before us in the ranks of the Jedi have learned to walk the narrow path of Vapaad, a lightsaber dueling form that uses a method of tapping into the Darkness. I can also show you how to allow yourself the luxury of anger, harnessing the passion it brings, while also showing restraint."

 

The Grey Master's stomach burbled again, more audibly this time.

 

"I have a few questions before we begin. Firstly, what exactly do you expect to learn from all this? Secondly, what do you treasure most? And thirdly, do you have anything to eat? I'm pretty famished. Some ale, as well, if you have any."

 

He wasn't trying to be an inconsiderate guest, but he was damn hungry.

Immediately reachable by  charlesjhall@gmail.com

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Dahar moved to the corner of the room where there was a bit of salted meat being preserved in an old basket. It certainly wasn't custard, but it was delicious if you were into salt. He unpacked it and sliced off a bit for Aryian. "Most of the time I would go into town to eat. Some crafty little places there. They might even have something cold and sweet if you want to go check it out... Along with some ale." Dahar turned on the sink and poured some boring water into a boring cup. He handed it over and poured himself one as well. "I never really got into the stuff. The taste didn't do much for me and neither did the lack of focus it would give me. I got messed up a few times back home when I was a kid. That's what spoiled rich kids did on Adumar. But I didn't like it."

 

Thinking of home was something Dahar hadn't done in quite a while. His life there felt completely separate from the one he had now. His mother, father, brother, long forgotten. He never really felt like he belonged to them anyway. It was as if he was born detached. He thought about Aryian's question. What did he treasure? Initially he could think of nothing. He had no possessions. No real friends. He had people he trusted, like Vos, Kirlocca, Adenna. But he had never been capable of forming intimate attachments to people. Except, a bit, to Adenna.

 

"As strange as this may sound, I want to learn what it is to be Sith. I have spent my whole life mastering the Force. I've been called Master Raikanda for as long as I can remember. I still learn things, from time-to-time. That's why we came here. The last time I learned anything astonishingly new was here, from my mentor who was a heal and chemist. But I want to tap into all of the Force. Maybe Ares is somewhere in there, hiding, with something to say? Oh, and that lightning thing. I want to learn to do that too."

 

Dahar stopped speaking for a minute, focused most of his being, and pointed out his hand. From his fingertips flew a few sparks of electricity, across the room and to the old wood stove in the corner. It kindled a small flame.

 

"I can do that, if I really think about it. If I reach out to the particles in the air, look at each one of the trillions of them individually, and command them to accelerate. But the Sith do it with what seems like such ease."

 

He thought again about the question of treasure. "I don't think I treasure anything. Myself maybe? My goals? My plans? Probably a terrible answer for a Jedi, right? It should be 'democracy' or 'keeping the peace' or 'my fellow Jedi' or something? But truthfully, friend, I treasure myself."

Jedi Masters never die, they just fade away...

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"Truthfully, friend, your answers are already very Sith-like in nature. I'm surprised you haven't felt the temptation or taint of the Dark Side already. Heh, taint. Anyways, as a former Master of the Order and in both the interests of you and the organization, I recommend that you step down as Grandmaster immediately. I mean no offense when I say you stand to do great harm to the Jedi Order by following your current intentions, harm that it likely cannot recover from, especially after this recent purge we have been seeing, with a bounty out on all Force users. There are not many of us left, and to scatter them...there might never be an Order again. Not in our lifetimes, anyways."

 

Cooly, Aryian took a sip from the bland cup he was offered, the water tasting metallic and tangy, likely indicating something wrong with the plumbing. Ah, the simple joys of peasant life.

 

"As for Ares, he is...well, 'we' are whole again. He is locked within me, as much as he is me. I have vague recollections and memories of what he did, but let me assure you that not only will he not be returning, but I will do everything in my power to prevent that from happening. So no...he will not be making an appearance. And you say you want to tap into all of the Force, but like I just said, you technically already do. If you want to feel like what it is to lash out in wrath or anger with the Force, that is something you don't need me for. That is the Dark Side. I can show you how to harness Force Lightning like Sith do, but there is a reason it comes so easily to them, because the technique is tied to strong emotions. Like wrath or anger. Strong passion."

 

Taking a bite of the salted meat, smoked nerf by the taste of it, the Grey Master avoided a scowl. He preferred a little meat with his salt, but whatever. After he left, this would be Dahar's hut, and Dahar would have to deal with the crappy food, not Aryian. There was always the future to look to, which always provided the same thing that kept the galaxy fresh: change.

 

"Now, Jedi can tap into these emotions and still remain on the Light Side. This is contrary to the traditional dogma the Order teaches. In fact, several Jedi before have mastered a similar technique dubbed electric judgement or some fancy-named nonsense that is in essence the same technique, but the wrath you are lashing out with is in righteousness. If, to protect someone, you must strike down another, and are incredibly moved to do so, then that is a scenario in which this technique can be useful. In almost all other instances, you are lashing out in wanton anger, and willingly tapping into the Dark Side to do so."

 

Aryian looked Dahar dead in the eyes for this next part, a grave look crossing his face.

 

"And just because you are a Master, do not underestimate the allure of the Dark Side. It is like an addictive drug, but it will take to you like a cancer. You above all others should realize that the Light provides just as much strength and power as the Dark. The Dark may seem faster, easier, but it isn't. It simply seems that way. Playing at Darkness invites it to corrupt you. To commit acts which are anathema to the Light. If you do these acts willingly, you wouldn't be sliding down a slope, you'd be jumping off a cliff. And depending on how far you wander, even outside what I can show you, there is sometimes no redemption. Consider yourself warned."

 

Aryian broke the gaze, taking another sip of his rust Kool-aid.

 

"So. I will show you electric judgement. But to teach you more, you will need to renounce your position. Or find a different teacher, I suppose."

Immediately reachable by  charlesjhall@gmail.com

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A hologram comm came in for Dahar. It was coded under an old Jedi code from when Kirlocca was a padawan, and it may have taken a few god day or two to reach him.

 

<< Dahar, you must come to Ossus. We have things we need to set straight. Refusal to meet is not an option I would not advise for. I will be there at an old enclave. We can talk more there. May the Force be with you. >>

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The message came in as both of the men saw the hologram of the great Wookiee Kirlocca.

 

Dahar thought deeply about what Aryian had said. It was no comfort to him to have his goals called Sith-like. It made him think that perhaps he was walking a dangerous line. He had wanted to better understand his enemy, but not to become one in the process.

 

"Master Darkfire, although there few in the galaxy who would command my respect as you do I feel you are completely wrong about the state of the galaxy, and the Jedi for that matter. If you think that going after the Sith, for once, instead of allowing them to come after us is something that will ruin the Order then I'm not sure what order you recall. I honestly didn't expect you to be so passive. But that is my fault, for putting my expectations on you.

 

I sense that you are as powerful as you have ever been, perhaps even more so. There may indeed be none left alive that could rival you. But if you truly believe that the best place to remain is in the shadows... hidden away... then you are not the man I thought you were."

 

Dahar took a bite of his own salted meat. Delicious.

 

"'Refusal is not an option.' Is that the calm and serene Jedi Order you want to protect from me? The great Wookiee warrior dialing me after he mysteriously vanished months ago with no word of where he was going? Then all of a sudden practically commanding my presence? Aren't you a bit intrigued?"

 

It seemed that their time here would be cut short, that Dahar would not in fact be able to hook Aryian up with some tasty local desserts.

 

The Grandmaster positioned his comm so that both he, and the renowned Aryian Darkfire, would be in the shot. "Master Kirlocca, I am on Taris right now visiting my old home. Master Aryian Darkfire is here with me. We will leave immediately for Ossus. See you soon, my friend, may the Force be with you also." The message ended and beamed across the galaxy to Kirlocca.

 

"Are you coming with me? You can see for yourself what the Order is doing, if you really care about it like you say. If not you can have this house. Stay here, be a recluse, go get yourself some ice cream."

Jedi Masters never die, they just fade away...

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Aryian sighed. Loudly, grumpily.

 

"I have more experience in my little pinky dealing with the Sith than the rest of the Order combined, save for perhaps Master Kirlocca. I used to think that going after them aggressively was the answer the Order needed. It led to bloodshed on an insurmountable scale. So Grandmaster or not, at least respect that; that my reasons and opinions and actions hold the weight of my past. You come at me with reckless talk, the kind an uppity overconfident battle-hungry sand-hating Padawan would say, as the Grandmaster of the Jedi Order, no less, and expect me to shove you down the path of the Dark Side? If you do nothing else, please at least understand my hesitation on the matter."

 

Picking up another piece of jerky for the trip ahead, he stood, awaiting Dahar to usher them away to the shuttle.

 

"I will come, if only to gain more insight on this. It will also be good to speak with Master Kirlocca again. Maybe he'll have some of that Kashyyyk whiskey...stuff could put a gundark in a coma..."

 

Aryian trailed off, wondering how the Order had come to this. How the galaxy had come to this, that Force Users had nearly been hunted to extinction.

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"I think the mere shock value of your presence is worth coming for. I mean, do you forget what a big deal you are? You could probably walk into a temple of either Order and get fanfare depending on the outfit you wore."

 

Dahar paused for a moment, that was it. "But that's why you've become like this, isn't it? You don't want that. I can't assume what it's like to be you, just as I can't assume what it's like to be anyone but myself. But I can't fault you for what life has done."

 

Dahar went to gather his belongings and then remembered he didn't have any.

 

"I'm not sure I trust what's going on, to be honest. I feel like this could be a set up, although I don't know why. When we arrived at Tython I thought Kirlocca and I would handle things. But then he just bailed. "Hey, you're Grandmaster now, I gotta bounce." That was the gist of it. And then months later this. I don't know. Honestly, I'd feel safer not to go alone."

 

Fear leads to anger...

 

Dahar wasn't even aware of it. His fears seemed justified, rational.

 

"The bloodshed you speak of. If it is... a means to an eventual glorious end, is it justified. If thousands, millions need to die, so that trillions live peacefully in the future... but we hesitate because we don't want to hurt anyone in the present, isn't that in opposition to the code? There is no emotion, there is peace?"

 

Dahar lead the two to the ship as he waited for Aryian's response.

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Aryian nodded as he sat down in the ship.

 

"Sometimes the choices we make are terrible. But to not make them is a choice in and of itself, and is usually the wrong one. You are correct. It doesn't often happen that way, but it can and has happened to me in the past. A certain Sith terrorist had hidden massive bombs all around Coruscant, trying to blackmail the Alliance. Both I and my wife lost our lives that day. Of course, some of us are forcibly attached to the mortal coil, but you understand that. Had we simply let the bombs go off and gone after the true threat, the Sith, we could have captured and imprisoned them, greatly reducing the scope of their future murders. But, like fools...we went for the bombs."

 

The Grey Master exhaled slowly, stifling emotion, not something he did on a common basis anymore. His memories weren't what they used to be, but the memory of Armiena still burned brightly in his mind.

 

"Sometimes being a true hero means making sacrifices. Making hard choices. Choices not everyone agrees with. You try to fight it, but it gets you in the end. But it also means insulating yourself from those you care about so they don't get caught up in the sacrifices you make. Because otherwise...who would you be sacrificing for? Yourself? That is truly what the Sith Order philosophy wants it's practitioners to believe and thirst for, but it is hollow and meaningless. You have to ask yourself, at the end of all things, if you are a god floating in an empty void, was it all worth it? And if the answer is no, the question becomes where to draw the line in the sand. And that, the truth at the end of all things, is a choice we all have to make for ourselves, and only we can make it."

 

His stomach rumbled again, and Aryian ripped off a small chunk of the jerky in his pocket, nibbling on it. He was still slightly resentful at the lack of frozen custard, but perhaps Ossus would offer something different.

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  • 8 months later...

Dahar woke up in a startled fashion from the dream he just had. Things were all jumbled together, all the power players in his life spinning in a torrent, but he was nowhere to be found. It seemed as if he had excommunicated himself from the galaxy. But why?

 

He took a deep breath, almost as a reflex, and beckoned the Force to nourish him. Having spent decades as a servant of the Force Dahar knew it inside and out. Suddenly the Dark Side came swirling into his being. He had opened the floodgates a few months ago and now it came to him on command. The visions in his head calmed and reality quickly rushed to him.

 

He turned over in his bed to see the beautiful blonde hair of his apprentice, Allison. She sluggishly turned to him, put her hand on his face and asked, "Is everything alright, Atlas?"

 

The Force swirled through him at the mention of his new name. Yes, this was who he was, and this was where he was supposed to be. Call it mental illness, or perhaps some sort of brain aneurism, but he was a different man than he was before. Often the voices and visions would lie to him. They reminded him of how his friends has betrayed him, how his own mentor tried to kill him. Atlas believed these things and over the past few months had learned to harness his anger. The Dark Side had awakened him to new ideas and new abilities. His trip to Korriban had strengthened him.

 

"Everything is fine, my love, get me a cup of water, would you?" Allison leaned over and kissed his neck before she got out of bed and went into the other room for water. Atlas sat up and looked at his surroundings. He was home. The humble hut that he had spent years in before was now the base of his new operations. He looked out the window to see his children scurrying about the yard. Atlas was teaching all of them, honing all of their force abilities, and opening their eyes to new truths. "Live! Love! Burn! Die!" he shouted out his window to the younglings preparing for their day.

 

"Live! Love! Burn! Die!" A group of students responded with a raised fist towards Atlas.

 

He had no need for the Jedi anymore. He trusted his friend Sheog but that was the only real connection he had to the Sith. No friends, no enemies, nothing to do except exist. The Dark Side, the Light, he allowed both of them to pour through him and taught his students to do the same. They no longer looked at him as a Jedi Master, but as their father. The Family was strong, focused, and Atlas still made an effort to produce medicine for the nearby village. Allison returned to him with the cup of water. She sat down next to him on the bed, looking out the window. Allison was his most prized student, the only one he would call apprentice. Someday when his inevitable non-existence came to be he hoped that she would continue the Family.

 

"Master, I love this place, thank you for bringing us here." she laid her head down on his shoulder and let out a deep exhale.

 

"Remember, everything is temporary." He looked deep into her eyes, "Live. Love. Burn. Die."

 

She gazed back, as if speaking to his soul, "Live. Love. Burn. Die."

Jedi Masters never die, they just fade away...

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  • 3 weeks later...

In one of the countless ruined districts of the planetwide cityscape of Taris, parked beneath an algae covered still body of putrid water, lay the Multi-Environment Vehicle Stillwater Mining, salvaged from a long defunct mining corporation. The name of the ship now the name of the company emblazoned in fading paint across the hull. There really was not much to draw one's attention to the ship that had been setting for who-knew-how-long beneath the still waters.

 

Inside, however, was something completely different.

 

One could be forgiven for thinking the ship was one of any other dozens pieces of wreckage and debris scattered about the ruined district. Inside the ship was just as watery as outside; though inside the water was of a much purer variant; run through several modified purifiers, aerating the otherwise still water within. Inside this hulk of a ship, a strange red-skinned beast skittered across the walls and floor, eight suckered tentacles oozing and popping subtley through the water.

 

Nearby, in a long abandoned structure, the aged computer mainframe still whirred with life. Though no one stood at its controls and no external wiring running off into the shadows. Aside from the power supply, the computer stood alone. Once a sentinel of knowledge, now a forgotten repository. From his watery home, the cephalopod remotely accessed the mainframe, bouncing his signaled message to a series of civilian and military towers and transponders across the planet before sending the message out into the cold depths of space. From there the message bounced from Coruscant to Tatooine and several other planets, ships, and installations between; by the time the message got where it was intended, days would have passed and a trace back here, to this abandoned computer mainframe would be next to impossible.

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A message from Black Sun Agent Anna Corun came into Jefsa's comm offering a contact on the world of Tattooine, if he was interested in furthering his business opportunities beyond simple powders and fragrances for the asses of the galaxy.

 

"You are invited to meet with the Black Sun in the Cantina on Tattooine. Send whoever you can, we are interested in expanding your opportunities."

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Jefsa bubbled the equivilant of an ocotpi smile as he accessed the message. There was no way he would be attending such a thing himself. His entire business had been built under the image of an aged overweight Corellian; one Booster Rann. There was no way that even these Black Sun lackeys knew who he was in truth. Just the way he liked it.

 

Chances were, they did not even know where their message had arrived. Taris = maybe? This watery hole = not likely. Another of Jefsa's innumerable invisible safety measures.

 

Still, this was an opportunity that could not be passed up. Maybe this was a good chance for him to exand his horizons. THere was that Cathar he had been monitoring that was currently on Nal Hutta.

 

More bubbles. The irony was not lost on him, the calamari commanding the cat. Even less reason to suspect an unsuspecting non-humanoid sea creature flitting about Taris' backwaters.

 

Oh yes. I will be present. he thought as he dispatched a highly encrypted comm to one Chess Ro, bouncing it all over the galaxy, specifically Corellia and Tatooine and then another along the same path to the Black Sun Agent:

 

my dealings take me far from Tatooine at the allotted time; but I will have my representative meet you as soon as possible.

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  • 3 months later...

There was nothing but a soft rumble of noise for the most part. At times there was distant uncoherent words spoken, but they were always just far enough away that whatever was said was lost to Kota. The young Togruta sat bent in a curled-up position within a crate that had left on a smuggler ship from Shili that was carrying some illegal Akul beasts and other assortments of goods off the planet. There was a small whimper that came from a now awakening Haatta, Kota's sister. Feeling a deep sense of worry over her, he placed his hand upon the center of her head and gave her a soft rub to help keep her comfortable. Even as he did so, there were some loud bangs and rumbles that told Kota that the ship had indeed landed upon its first stop, which would be the Ni siblings point to leave the ship, whether the crate they hid within was scheduled to be dropped off or not.

 

As there was some more movement and noise began to elevate up a bit more, along with the incoherent chatter going on as the crew began to unload the cargo, Kota used the tops of his montrals to push the top off the crate. Lifting his head ever so slightly to take a look around, the soft whimpering words from Haatta had him feeling slightly nervous. "Kota, why are mom and dad not with us?" The words felt like a tiny needle being stabbed into his heart. His own body began to tremble as he responded to her. "Mom and dad are no longer a part of our lives." Despite the trembling he was still having, he kept his eyes on the lookout for their escape off the ship. Even as he did, the lack of comfort that he was able to show to his sister during this moment was made up from the fact that she bent herself to embrace the midsection of Kota as he peered around what he could see.

 

Sensing quickly that there were more crew coming back into the storage area, he lowered his head, allowing for the top of the crate to cover them again. He lowered his voice to the softest whisper he could and leaned into Haatta. "We are going to leave this box soon. When I say move, follow me very closely." His own abdomen grew damp from the soft and quiet tears from Haatta, and Kota only felt them because of his sister nodding her head while still clinging to him. It was then that he had a single thought race through his head that seemed to play over and over again on repeat for a few seconds. Am I even fit to take care of her? It was a strange thought to have, but one that he knew would need to be answered sooner rather than later.

 

Listening carefully, he heard a few more grunts and movements as some crew took more supplies off the ship. It was then that his whisper was loud and clear to Haatta. "Move." Kota himself sprang up, making a quick motion to spin and roll at the same time to grab the top of the crate so that it would not crash so loudly upon the floor of the ship and bring all of the crew rushing in to see what was going on. The less anyone took notice of him and his sister the better they would be. It was a motto he had better start having them live by in order to survive.

 

Upon his own sister springing up quickly out of the box they had smuggled themselves into, he quickly slid the top back on and grabbed her hand, pulling her quickly down around a corridor and to the left. He knew where he was headed, he was able to hear to landing gear not far off from where they resided within the crate. Turning the corner, he quickly spotted the maintenance hatch and opened it, throwing his sister down first, followed by himself as he was the one who needed to pull the hatch closed behind them. As soon as he landed, he could see his sister's face staring at him in the very low lights the lit the maintenance tunnel. Her face, which was blue skinned with some white held no look of worry. She trusted Kota with her life. "Left." At his word, she turned and moved a few feet before coming to the main landing gear leg that was extended. She was slow to poke her head out to make sure that they were clear, then dropped. Kota followed really quickly.

 

Upon landing, he took her hand again and moved her quickly and nimbly through the landing bay area that the ship was docked at and towards the main building before them. The two were fast and got into the port authority building without being noticed by the crew of the ship they had smuggled themselves onto. The port authority however found them almost immediately. There were two security guards who quickly pulled stun batons out, and a security droid and the dock officer turned around and stared daggers into both of them. Haatta quickly grabbed her brother's hand tighter than before. Taking in a deep breath, he looked the dock officer square in the eyes.

 

"Two Togrutas… Conveniently off a docking pad that has a ship that just made its way from Shili. I bet somewhere back home is your master looking for two runaways. Kids from the looks of both of you. Guards, place them under arrest until I contact the Zygerrians and if they are missing any new acquisitions."

 

It was then that some panic set in for Kota. He needed to get his sister free form this mess, and fast. Thinking on his feet and having an exact understanding of where the two guards were at, he took his right hand and flung his sister towards and opening that would be out of range from the droid and the dock officer, while at the same time, throwing his own body low. Upon his sister leaving his hand, he kicked out his left leg to break the kneecap of the guard to his left. Upon doing so, he moved himself to go to his belly, and then used his hands to spring up to avoid the stun baton coming down at him. As he was springing up, he spun around and had his own feet wrap around the neck of the other guard and spun him into the side of the wall head first.

 

The droid began to hum around, which drew Kota's attention to him. Picking up both stun batons of the guards, he moved from left to right, bouncing off of things with great acrobatics, and landed upon the top of the droid. He drove both stun batons into the droid with as much force as he could muster-which was enough, as the droid began to shut down from the electric circuits shorting out. Slowly standing up, he put the two stun batons into the back of his pants. Turning around slowly to see where his sister was at, he heard the distinct sound of a blaster disengaging the safety.

 

"Bad move…" Feeling desperate, Kota picked up both of his hands to shield his face from the shot that would kill him and end his attempt to keep his sister away from the slavers. Almost as soon as he closed his eyes and shielded his face, he heard a loud thud and crack. Fearing the worst, he slowly uncovered his eyes to see the dock officer on the opposite wall, bleeding out quickly from the back of his head. Kota didn't know how, but the dock officer had somehow been flung into a metal post beam in the dock authority office and had busted his skull wide open.

 

Not wanting to risk any more attention or having the two guards come around like the droid was sure to, he wanted to leave the area fast. "Haatta, come." The girl quickly came out of hiding, and the two ran as fast as they could out of the port authority offices. Even as they ran into the lower levels of Taris, Kota was trembling at what he had just done to protect his sister…

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