This is my first attempt to write in the exciting new era of The Old Republic.
Constructive criticism is welcomed.
The planet was on the edge of known space and it had once been a lush world, now it was but a shell of what it once was, a necropolis. The only habitable area the deep underground cave systems that were not touched by noxious fumes that made up the atmosphere. The hooded figure that haunted my past chose this planet well, it reflected his personality with crystal clarity to his prisoners. From the brief snippets of knowledge that escaped the murky veil of sleep I knew he was dangerous man, quick to explode into sudden fiery rages. He had a strange quality about him, his very presence whispered of stories of hunger and loss which only escaped as moans and soft whispers on the back of his breath. In the dark dream I have returned to my childhood, surrounded by children just like me. We fought over the little food we were given, vicious brawls that ended in death. After such battles for survival he would murmur to us about a role that only best of us could play.
We looked up from tending our bloodied scrapes and fierce bruises and stared in to his deep eyes, which reflected the cruel red light of the glow crystals that cast the only light of this dark dream. We were forced to huddle together for warmth during the bitingly cold nights and despite this companionship we were could only trust ourselves so that we could be the chosen to fulfil our master’s plans. I was not the strongest nor the fastest but I knew that I had the greatest mind of all the boys, I longed to escape, to endlessly travel the stars that my master spoke of.
I always awoke drenched in sweat, the image of the hooded man burned into my head. These dreams had haunted me ever since the beginning of the war almost twenty-eight years ago. I didn’t know of the dreams origin but sometimes, in that moment between reality and sleep I knew of the evil that lurks inside of me, biding it’s time to strike.
The Sacking of Coroucant
“Master Tindor, Master Tindor, help!” *
Within the space of seconds I had shaken off the haunting tendril of my dreams and was out the door, my glowing blue saber in my hand and the coarse hand of my teenage Padawan clasped firmly in the other. I tried to take stock of the situation and found the problem was glaringly obvious, fire. How could this be? The Jedi were always given the best equipment for the job, whether it involved a simple ice-tech sprinkler system for the temple or an Aratech armoury filled with enough weapons to start a small revolution.
I searched around desperately as the flames continued to crackle and roar, searching for something, anything that could help. I had lived in this section of the temple’s living quarters *for my whole life, excluding *the many recent years spent sleeping in trenches and bunkers on the front line of the Great Galactic War. The once familiar environment of my home was marred by thick smoke and deadly orange flame. I could see no way of escape; the smoke had completely disorientated me.
The brief moments it had taken to survey the situation had taken their toll, my eyes watered and my lungs screamed in agony. Suddenly the presence of my young charges hand changed from a tight grip to a strong pull, Andri had somehow found an escape route! I followed him without complaint, he was a tough guy who had more than proved his trust over the last year in which I had been his mentor. We began to run, still hand in hand, my saber starting to crackle furiously as the flames met with the blue blade. At that point I put my head down and ran though the ferocious heat, being lead by my Padawan. Fire covered me and I felt my weak human skin begin to peel and burn. After what felt like a trip to the mid-rim without a hyperdrive I burst through the flames with a guttural grunt of pain.
We had made it; I recognised the corridor we were in. Somehow Andri had found the weakest point of the flames and led me directly through it towards the door that lead to safety. *He waved his hand to shut the door just as we stumbled through it. I thanked the stars that he was a Sonitan, a near-human species known for their mining skills because of their ability to pick up heat waves with their pointed ears. That was how he led us both to freedom.
I didn’t have time to thank my teenage Padawan however I knew that I owed him my life, I could have easily succumbed to the flames. I pulled that thought from my head as I focused on scanning the blazing rooms around me for survivors. I didn’t detect anyone else alive in the simmering rooms that we had just run from but I knew from my many years at war that wounded or dying *force sensitive’s were known to shield their force signature, purely as a defensive instinct.
I reached for my comlink, already attempting to recall which signal number activated the temple’s fire systems. I patted air for a moment before realising that my comlink was in my quarters, along with everything else I owned, I was only dressed in my pyjamas. I was not looking forward to the embarrassment that would undoubtedly form from this blasted fire. Come to think of it, how could the fire have even started? The entire temples structure was built with fire resistant alloys. That’s when the feeling hit me, the brief respite had stopped the insane beat of my heart, so I could feel it. This was not a simple fire coupled with an unfortunate tech malfunction that caused my current problem. This was something far more sinister.
The emptiness clutched at my stomach so badly that I bent over in pain. Andri barley looked up from his position leaning against the smooth metal wall. He could feel it too. Usually the temple was teeming with powerful force aurora that swirled through the halls and revitalised everyone. The gardener’s flora grew high, the scientist’s experiments were a success, the animals always teemed with energy and the healers touch always soothed. As Jedi we aided each another by contributing our energies into each other. Now suddenly all that help was gone, leaving only a shallow emptiness.
Finally Andri found his breath through the thick smoke
“The Sith, they did this,”
Trickery, a true tool of the Sith. Just the night before I imagined a galaxy with no war as I breathed in the cool night air. Reports had come in that the setup for the negotiations on Alderaan had gone well and that although the offer of peace had come out of the blue we were all holding our breaths for a settlement.
As pained thoughts spun through my head I dropped to my knees, breathing heavily. That’s when I heard the snap-hiss of a lightsaber. Looking up, all I saw was a crimson blade, black robes and deep yellow eyes.
A fight was brewing. * *