Seng Karash
Aeotheoran
Orian System

Rain fell, scattering the crowds. The public had been listening to one of the Mayoral candidates speak. Not all of them had managed to gain access to the building it was held in, so they watched it via a holoscreen that cast a shadow over the town square.

The Traveler stood on the stage, the robed figure had been discussing the situation that the city found itself in. There had been many incidents during the election campaign. Too many to discount as mere coincidences. It had begun with rumours and whispers about the past of both candidates. There had been claims that one had committed criminal acts. Another rumour had been that they were defrauding the local tax authorities. Sanguinius didn’t believe them to be true however, they were most likely products of the rumour mill.

The Augur had taken great interest in the result of the election. He was determined to ensure that there was a free election. Sanguinius believed it was in the best interest of the public that they knew that the Warhost and Naga Sadow were not dictators. They were there as protectors of democracy and peace.

Sanguinius was standing in a doorway, using the porch as cover from the rain as he continued to watch the debate. The two mayoral candidates were continuing to argue over the finer points of their manifestos. The Proconsul had favoured the Traveler originally, as he believed that Maya Nikeisha was not the leader Seng Karash needed.

His mind wandered back to the rumours that had spread across the city as the election had progressed. They had turned serious when an intern on Nikeisha’s election team had disappeared, only to turn up dead two days later. Sanguinius had used his position to gain information from the local authorities. The peacekeeper’s investigation was still ongoing, but the preliminary report believed the cause of death was homicide.

The Entar pursed his lips as he watched the debate moderator pause the ongoing discussion to take another question from the audience. Passers by hurried past the Jedi, protecting themselves from the rain with umbrellas. The death of the intern had only been the beginning of something much worse.

Upon learning of the murder of the intern, Sanguinius had informed his fellow Sadowan supporters of the Traveler. Rumours and accusations had flown, blaming the Traveler for the death of the young man. The Sadowans knew better. They knew it was the work of the criminal element who were determined to keep their hold on Seng Karash. The Sadowans had investigated further. Jades and Darius had visited several seedy establishments, made a few contacts and spread a warning for the criminals to back off.

They hadn’t listened...

No, it had escalated. Financial information had been leaked that made it seem like Maya really was committing tax fraud. The paperwork claimed that she hadn’t paid taxes for over eight years. Despite the upheaval that the Orian System had gone through, the authorities had demanded that the populace continue to pay taxes to help rebuild the cities and provide services to the public. The paperwork was damning, but the Sadowans supporting Maya had found out the records had been falsified. It had been a close rung thing though, Maya almost had to withdraw from the race.

She had bounced back from the forgeries, but it showed that the criminals were getting smarter. Smarter and more courageous. Next they had targeted rallies and disrupted them. They had threatened supporters, warned them away from the polls. They had even bombed the Traveler’s campaign office. Luckily no one was there at the time, otherwise there would have been several deaths.

The rain slowly ceased, which led to more people stopping to watch the televised debate. It was good that so many members of the public had engaged with the election process, but the continued existence of these criminals was a blot on the well being of the city. Sanguinius’ com-link beeped, drawing his attention. His left hand rose to his left eye to press the receive button. “Yes?”

“We have him in our sights.” Aul informed the Augur.

“Are Aexod and Jades in position?” Sanguinius enquired.

“As instructed.” Aul replied.

“Excellent, I’m on my way,” Sanguinius moved out of the doorway and began to move out of the square, “Take him down if you get the chance.” the Augur instructed.

“Understood.” Aul ended the transmission.

The group had gained information on the identity of the bomb maker via a combination of bribery, informants and peacekeeper cooperation. With luck, the capture of the insurgent would lead them to the leaders of the criminal underworld. Sanguinius was determined to ensure a free election would occur. Regardless of the outcome, democracy would reign supreme over fear and violence.

The smell of copper burned within Kul’s nostrils. Its pungent stench stung all the more as he realized what the source was. It hadn't taken long, the splattered walls and still bodies were testimony enough. His eyes blazed with fury as the rest of him fought to understand that his whole world had just ended. No amount of training or illusions of peace could prepare him for the emotions that boiled within.

His family lay before him, their bodies lacerated by the humming blade in the Jedi’s hands. Kul remembered having seen the man talking with his father. An attempt to recruit him to what was left of their order. Of course his father had refused, explaining that his place was with his family, and his ability to wield his power (the “Force” the Jedi had called it) was merely an extra tool with which to provide for them. Had the Jedi not liked that answer? From what Kul had heard in stories, the Jedi were supposed to be protectors of the peace, not murderers.

Kul then noticed that the Jedi was wounded as well. As the man turned with his left hand holding his side, Kul saw the look in his eyes. It was a look he had seen many a time in the eyes of his prey while hunting: the look of defeat. Knowing one’s time was up. The Jedi quickly changed expressions, a crazed glint in his eyes as they stared past the young Zabrak.

“I will not allow the Sith to take him! With my death, I ensure your defeat!”

Kul had no idea what the man was talking about, but he knew what his feelings told him. *Vengeance.*

Having returned just recently from his *Selenoren,* Kul still had his trusted *zhaboka* in hand, blade freshly washed and sharpened after his battle royale with the other clan’s sons. The ones who had been foolish enough to keep challenging him, in any case. The trap had come as a surprise, another attempt by the Drols’ enemies to put them down. Instead, more than a few clans would be in mourning. All thanks to the training Kul’s father had provided him. The image of his father’s face grinning with pride brought him back to the present. His vision narrowed and everything became tinted in red as if a veil had been pulled over him.

The Zabrak gripped the polearm deftly, and roared. His body moved of its own accord, and he suddenly felt lighter and stronger than before. His legs propelled him forward and his arms thrust the weapon stiffly ahead. The Jedi had no fight left, and was sent smashing into the wall when the blade struck home. The force of the blow left the long handle of the weapon impaled into the wall, the Jedi hanging lifeless.

Kul stepped back as the rush of power began to overflow his emotions. His senses were alert and prickling. They warned him of another presence to his rear. He turned sharply on his heels and saw that he was not alone. A man, his face and body augmented with technology, stood in the corner, draped from head to toe in black armor with a cloak dusting the dirt floor. Two humanoid eyes took in the carnage appreciatively as his metallic jaw clicked to one side. Kul realized it was his form of a grin. As the being spoke his original voice was masked by a synthesizer and seemed to echo throughout the building.

“Defeat? You failed to calculate one detail, Jedi. The Force can be found in others, but a master lies dead. Your order grows smaller, while mine grows.”

The eyes locked onto Kul and their pupils seemed to swivel and shrink like the scope on a rifle. The Zabrak, still under the influence of his rage, yanked his *zhaboka* from the wall and spun it with blade pointed at the android. He completely ignored the Jedi’s corpse as it fell with a thud and sneered. He knew he should be terrified, yet his lust for blood had risen exponentially within the last few moments. His only thought was the desire to see these invaders pay for his family’s murder.

The android saw the look of hunger in the Zabrak’s eyes and his remaining cheek muscles tensed as his mechanoid body tried to laugh. The being swept aside his cloak with one arm, revealing a metal cylinder at his side. Delicately coaxing it into his hand, he spun it once for show before it burst into light. A long beam of crimson faced Kul’s blade of weak durasteel.

“I sense your anger, boy. Perhaps we can make something of you in your father’s place.”

*We?* Kul frowned and could not resist the curiosity that statement brought. He fought the urge to pounce.

“Who is that? More Jedi? I will kill you all!”

The Zabrak’s threat was not lost on the android, but at the same time not considered a potential possibility. The young warrior’s ignorance of outside matters amused him greatly.

“Jedi? No. I am Sith, a group who recognizes the Dark Side of the Force as our guide. It’s power releases us from the shackles of the weak and makes us free. As you can now feel. That strength flowing through you know is you innate power coming forth. The Dark Side calls to you. My clan can help you grow and achieve great things, boy. Now. Come with me.”

Something in the back of Kul’s mind struggled, like water attempting to burst from a dam. It wanted out and he felt the power he had noticed before. It felt...good. His eyes gazed over the Sith’s body. But at what cost? The android smelled of corruption worse than when his father’s crops had soured two harvests ago. His peripheral reminded him of the bodies around him, and made him wonder just where he’d go if he stayed. He was reminded of his father’s words, spoken in a time when there was nothing but the world available to Kul as he approached his *Selenoren.*

*’Power is a nice thing to have, but it doesn’t bring you peace. Remember that, little Kul.’*

His decision made, the Zabrak grasped his polearm tightly and began to circle his opponent. The Sith stared calmly, well aware of his advantage in pure strength. As Kul’tak found his opening he dived towards the Sith, driving the polearm towards where he thought the android’s heart might be. The Sith merely stepped to one side and flicked his saber upward. As Kul’s momentum drove him forward, he tried to stop and turn using a defensive technique of K’thri, but was caught as he watched the front half of his *zhaboka* fly the opposite direction. His weapon had been severed cleanly, and with no resistance.

The last image of his home was of the Sith driving a fist down upon him.

A haze remained as Kul came into a weak state of consciousness. Everything was dark and foggy, but he felt the presence of multiple people around him. One stepped forward and sudden pain lit up his insides. A strange voice screamed at him, but it was partly muffled by what he could only guess were drugs in his system.

*I’m going to die,* he lamented. The pain began to wake his body to his surroundings, and he could make out the voice now.

“You serve Karness Muur now! Your life belongs to Plagueis! Say it! Whom do you serve!?”

His body was racked as another wave of pain passed through him. He saw a flash of bluish light and it reminded him of the stormy nights he’d spent in the woods with his father and younger brother foraging for supplies.

He heard screaming as the next wave hit. *Is...is that...me? I...make it stop.*

“Whom do you serve, slave!?” The voice was just background noise now as Kul’s view began to clear slightly. The pain was driving his hearts to work twice as hard, speeding his adrenal process and cleansing his blood of toxins. They could not stop the tendrils of energy that coursed through him, however. But this meant nothing as his eyes fell upon the android, a shadow in the corner with a metallic smirk. An image flashed through Kul’s mind as the lightning began to take its toll on him. Bodies lying in a bloody heap, and an emotion triggered at the sight. A flash of green and a word: *Jedi.* All Jedi must pay.

*Whom do I serve? This Plagueis? Fine. If they let me serve my vengeance, I’ll bend a knee.*

The android turned and left the room, speaking to a red-haired girl who stood waiting by the door. At his remark she gave the Zabrak an appraising glance, but only nodded in response.

*I’ll kill him, too. Wipe that smirk away. But to do that, I need to live. That power I felt...it must be the answer. I will have more.*

Another stream flowed through him and sparked across the table he was strapped to. The jagged tattooes across his body bulged as his body convulsed anew.

“Whom...do...you serve!?”

Kul managed to move his lips, causing the torturer to lean forward, their face shrouded in cloth. Kul felt the muscles in his body twist and flush with renewed strength as he drew from the power he’d sensed lingering in the back of his mind. It responded as his anger took hold, passing through his being and satiating his need for quick energy. His voice leaked out as a weak whisper.

“Pla...gueis.”

The torturer’s eyes squinted, a smile on their hidden lips. They turned to report their success in reforming the newest slave, but it was at that moment Kul struck. His empowered arms tore the straps from the table, and slammed together. The torturer’s neck snapped cleanly, and Kul ripped his feet free. The red-haired woman merely took this all in, accepting Kul’s freedom with a nod towards the floor. Unsure of these Sith’s traditions, but aware of their clan status, he hazarded a guess and knelt groggily on the floor. The woman strode forward, smaller than himself, yet possessing a presence his instincts immediately became wary of. She allowed a slight smile to cross her face as she laid a small hand on his horned head. His breaths were long and gasping, but he knew that his time was not ending. It was just beginning.

“Rise, my apprentice.”

Corellian Security Forces Academy
Coronet City, Corellia
THREE YEARS AGO

Inyri Ginovef stood near the main hall steps to the Academy, in civilian clothes and a rucksack over her back. Behind her, she could hear her classmates being marched off to their first courses of the semester. But, they weren’t her classmates any longer, she had been drummed out of Corellian Security.

“Inyri.” She turned to her parents as they approached. Her father was an average sized man, though he had put on some weight since his military days, so he had some roundness in his torso but not much. His brown blonde hair was still kept short, not a buzz cut but it never got long enough to require anything more than a brief combing, and his green eyes always seemed to have a slight ring of black around them. He wore a simple grey t-shirt and khaki colored cargo pants, as well as combat style boots.

Her mother was more professionally dressed, a dark blue blouse and black slacks with dress shoes, her red hair was styled in a single ponytail and she had a light amount of makeup on, including eyeliner around her green eyes.

“I don’t understand, why can’t I stay?” Inyri asked.

“It’s not something you did, but the Academy board won’t yield on this,” Her father said with frustration evident in his voice.

“Come on, we’ll discuss this on the way home. It’s okay, you did nothing wrong, and we’ll get this figured out somehow,” Her mother said, ushering them towards the exit of the Academy. Inyri nodded and followed her parents.

They exited the Academy and headed for the parking area for landspeeders. Inyri and her parents climbed into a silver SorroSubb V-19 Gian, the civilian model of a speeder favored on some worlds. Her father took the controls while Inyri sat in the back with her mother, and the speeder was angled back for their home near Gold Beach.

“Inyri, this is not easy to get into. Your father and I, we saw a lot while we were in the Republic military, but this is a subject neither of us have any knowledge in,” Inyri’s mother explained.

“What do you mean?” Inyri asked.

“The Academy board has completed its investigation and has determined that you exhibit signs of being a Force Sensitive. That’s why you’ve been expelled,” Her mother replied.

“That...what? Force Sensitive?” Inyri stammered.

“This isn’t something we know anything about. Sure there were rumors about Luke Skywalker and what he could do, but we weren’t anywhere near him during the war or after the Imps were routed at Jakku.” Her mother let out a sigh, shaking her head.

“So, what do I do?” Inyri asked.

“We don’t know,” Her father said.

“I wanted to do something with my life, do some good like you guys did before those kriffers in the Republic turned their backs on you. I don’t want to go to them, and I’m not going to go looking for their poster child war hero either,” Inyri scowled, “You think he’d take me in with our name? I doubt it.”

“The Jedi could be a place for you, though,” Her mother offered.

“They’re a legend, there’s no way some force of peacekeepers with energy swords and special powers just suddenly got wiped out by Palpatine. One man against many, that’s just myth and legend, I’m sure their reputation was just blown out of proportion like the rest of the Clone Wars,” Inyri shook her head with a dark chuckle.

“She’s right. We’re pinning hopes on some long gone outfit. And if Skywalker really was trying to bring them back, he’s not going to take her, not with our reputation over her head. It’s not right, but it’s the fact of the matter,” Her father replied.

“Look. Let’s just get home, and sort this out. I need to think,” Inyri said, and looked out on the cityscape of Coronet City. She felt a hand on her shoulder.

“Whatever you want to do, we’ll be here for you, Inyri,” Her mother said.

Gold Beach, Corellia
FOUR HOURS LATER

Inyri clambered into the small cave she had found as a child, high enough that the water didn’t get in except for the beginning of the lunar cycle, but still had a great view of the ocean and beach. It was hidden in a cove away from the main tourist areas, so Inyri could remain undisturbed, and even her parents didn’t know about it. Once inside the cave, she pulled her legs up into her chest and stared out into the night, the stars reflecting off of the water, the sound of the tide washing up and away drowning out the sounds of the tourists further down the beach.

It had been her third year at the Academy, she was on her way to graduating within the top fifteen percent of her class, and it practically ensured that she could have her choice of postings. She had been debating the merits of either following her father’s footsteps and going into Tactical Response or following her mother’s example and entering the world of Investigations, and now neither were a possibility. Now she had to re-evaluate her entire life.

Her expulsion made no sense. If she was Force Sensitive, why not let her stay, she could have been a valuable asset to Corellian Security. If anything, the board had just thrown away a unique opportunity to have someone that could have given the force an advantage that no other security force had. Inyri felt a bit egotistical to think she could have been some kind of secret weapon, but still, the logic was there.

Nothing made sense right now, except for why she had managed to replicate the effects of a flash grenade without the grenade during a practice session. But that alone was evidence that the board made a mistake in letting her go. That kind of ability would be invaluable in any situation, to disorient a suspect in order to take them down without any weapons, no one would be hurt and the suspect wouldn’t realize what had hit them until the cuffs were on. But no, she was something to be feared, cast aside, distrusted and isolated.

Inyri’s gaze fixed on the stars, wondering if maybe the answer was out there. Not with Skywalker or whatever was real of the Jedi, but somewhere that wouldn’t isolate and scorn her. Maybe somewhere out there, she could learn to use her talents and do some good for someone out there. Her answers weren’t going to be found on Corellia, that was becoming apparent. Both of her parents had chosen to leave and though they had been burned by the very people they had laid their lives down for, they had been better for it.

So, that was it for Inyri, she would have to leave Corellia and find her answers elsewhere, for better or for worse. She had some combat training, and could fly reasonably well. As long as she could turn to her parents for support to get off world, there was hope. And right now, that’s what she needed; hope.

Coronet City Spaceport, Corellia
TWO WEEKS LATER

Inyri’s jaw practically dropped as she walked into the docking bay and saw a YT-2400 freighter sitting there. Her father put a hand on her shoulder, beaming.

“We couldn’t let you leave without having a ship worth doing your trip in,” Her father said, “I had a couple of friends from CEC touch it up, she’s faster and more agile than normal, couldn’t do much with the weapons but even the ones fitted to it are pretty powerful. They hit about as hard as an X-Wing’s quad lasers.”

Inyri turned to her parents and hugged them both tightly. Cost, she knew, was not a big deal, her mother had found work as an actress in one of Corellia’s more popular police holodramas after retiring from the Republic military, and her father was an advisor with Corellian Engineering Corporation’s design teams. They weren’t super wealthy, but Inyri knew that she had grown up without fear of want, though her parents had made sure that she had not grown up spoiled or privileged.

“Thank you both so much,” Inyri said, stepping back with tears welling in her eyes. Both of her parents both had tears in their eyes as well.

“We love you, and we hope you find what you’re looking for,” Her mother said.

“And if you don’t, you’ll always have a home here, never forget,” Her father added.

He had returned to his barracks to get his datapad before he was able to go on his weekend pass. After he retrieved it, Armad turned and caught a glimpse of something barely sticking out from under his pillow. Armad looked around to see if anyone was watching or paying any attention in his direction. Carefully lifting up his pillow, Armad was able to see that it was just a piece of folded flimsiplast. Thinking that that was odd, as Umbarans as a whole, had moved on to all things technology. Armad looked around again to see if anyone was paying any attention to him, but he was the only one left in the barracks. Picking it up, Armad unfolded it and read what was on it.

“Phanius.”

Just one word, and it seemed familiar somehow. Curious about what this meant, Armad immediately left for his office at Shadow Security to do some research. Armad typed the name into his computer and a wealth of information scrolled up on his monitor. “A Jedi Master, huh?” Armad thought. Though there was not much written on this Umbaran Jedi Master, it did mention that he was intelligent and charismatic while in the Jedi Order. But he did abandon his oath and leave the Order, possibly causing the Fourth Great Schism, and subsequently starting the New Sith Wars.

Of the various Commanders that were listed on both sides of the war, only one caught Armad’s eye, Belia Darzu. But what had really made him zero in on her was that she had perfected the art of mechu-deru. Armad had always had a fascination with all thing technology, as most Umbarans were, so coming across something like this was a boon for him. It said that she had a hidden fortress on Tython, so he knew that that would be a place that he would need to visit, and soon.

But another planet had continuously popped up during his research, Ruusan. It was a planet had been ravaged from many battles that had taken place there during the war. There was something about saying Ruusan aloud that gave him a longing to venture there. Armad pulled up the navigational data on the two planets, and found that either would take him longer to get there than he had the time at the moment. Longer than what he had for the weekend, and his duty to finish his military stint kept him from leaving right then. He only had a couple of months left and then he would have the time he need to pursue this quest. Scrubbing the history from his computer, least someone came across it and used it to their advantage, Armad went about with his plans for the weekend.

Over the last couple of months of his military service, Armad kept having a feeling that something was pulling him back to the information that he’d found earlier. It wasn’t until he had about a month left that he realized that he had a slight problem. Most Umbarans weren’t permitted to leave the planet unless it was for official business, and even that was rare anymore. Thinking about it for a moment, Armad almost forgot that he was now the CEO of a rather prominent Security Firm. As such, it would give him a good reason and opportunity to leave the planet. Armad smiled as he started to make plans to first travel to Ruusan then to Tython.