Destiny Eclipse

Xander Vos · Destiny Eclipse

DRAMATIS PERSONAE (In order of appearence)

Korto Vos (Human Male) (Moisture Farmer) (Son of Jedi Master, Quinlan Vos)

Lysa Sornfree (Human female) (Moisture Farmer) (Mother of Xander Vos)

Xander Vos (Human male) (Son of Korto Vos, furture Jedi)

Jysek Talore (Human male) (Son of prominent ship repairer George Talore of Mos Hurga)

Darth Minious (Xargressian Male) (Sith Lord)

Vikro (Human Male) (Jedi Master) (Council Member)

Koras Aldamar (Togruta Male) (Jedi Master) (Council Member)

Abba (Human Female) (Jedi Grand Master) (Council Leader)

Rive Caedo (Human Male) (Jedi Master) (Council Member)

Urwen - Avic (Human Male) (Converted Jedi/Sith Spy)

Asil Leikane - Shatterpoint (Human Female) (Jedi Master) (Council Member)

Empress Dell (Kroprulan Female) (Sith Empress)

Darth Crusher (Human Male) (Sith Supreme General) (Sith Lord)

Darth Astra (Zabrak Male) (Sith Grand Admiral) (Sith Lord)

Lyn Korak (Juman Male) (Jedi Knight)

Wes Odo (Kel Dor Male) (Jedi Apprentice)

Addon Shin'se (sp.) (Human Male) (Jedi Apprentice)

Eriaté Sulla (Human Female) (Force Sensitive)

Darth Acrimonus (Human Male) (Supreme Commander and Grand Admiral of Sith Military)

Kadrian Kolar (Zabrak Male) (Sith Apprentice)

Darth Vexen (Human Male) (Grand General of Sith Military)

Xander Vos

PART ONE

I was but a boy, younger then you are now, when I began my journey...
-Xander Vos to his Apprentice, Wes Odo

Chapter One

** 4 ABY – 1 Month after Endor **

Tatooine – Vos Homestead

Heat, nothing but heat, the harsh rays of the twin suns, beat down upon the fragile dwelling below. The dwelling was a rare sight out amidst the sand dunes and valleys on Tatooine. The intricately carved surface helped to keep the heat off, allowing the residents inside to remain at least partially cool in the sun.

Korto Vos, a moisture farmer, toiled steadily upon the stubborn earth and sand that he lay claim to, trying hard to dig away a patch to plant a new moisture vaporator. The family’s last one had exploded in a puff of highly charged steam last night, the heat finally having taken its toll on it.

Korto Vos did not look any different to the other farmers in his area. He had shoulder length black hair, the touches of grey – a symptom of living on Tatooine, greys before your time – hair beginning to set in, leathery, tanned skin, and wrinkling skin. He wore a short brimmed cap over his head, the brim tugged down low, as to conceal his face. This was partly to keep his face out of the sun, and partly because he still felt the need to hide, the need to run, and stay as far away from the evil might that was the Empire.

For Korto, despite his appearance, was not a normal farmer, not even having been born on Tatooine, but on far away Nar Shaada, a planet in stark contrast to the world he had chosen to spend the rest of his life on. The bleak conditions of Tatooine were in severe contrast to the noisy crowdedness of Nar Shaada, as much as a womp rat was from a Hutt. Korto was not a farmer. He was the son of a Jedi Master.

Quinlan Vos, famed Jedi Master, and assumed dead as of the Battle of Kashyyyk, had, in fact lived on, witnessing the birth of his son, and then relocating them to the beautiful world of Naboo. Korto still had faint memories through the Force of Nar Shaada, even though he had left before he was even a year old, indicating his power in the Force.

The Force. The concept, even now, was laughable. The Empire had all but destroyed the Jedi, though every year there was yet another report of Jedi who had survived the Jedi Purge, with most proving to be nothing more then over-dramatised holo-net reports. They ranged from people having been witnessed at casinos with long winning streaks, to people who actually possessed a lightsaber. Even when proved unable to use the Force, these individuals were put to death for fraud, and for treachery to the Galactic Empire.

Korto suppressed the Force every time he felt a vision oncoming. Recently, his visions had been getting worse, showing, what he assumed, a Temple on a remote world, Jedi milling around, and a Council, strong and proud. He knew this was impossible, the Empire would have tracked them down long ago, and so knew that it was from the past. Yet still... he felt something in the vision, as if his son, his only son, belonged there.

After having grown up into a striking young man on Naboo, under the name of Xander Antilles, Korto had met a beautiful young woman. He had been shocked to learn, under the strictest of confidences, that she herself had once been a Jedi Knight, serving on the Outer Rim world of Maridun.

The two had been unable to deny their feelings for each other, that had grown stronger every day, and the two had wed in a lovely location, far from the prying eyes of the Imperial garrison posted on the Emperor’s home world. Then, terror had struck.

Even now, thinking back to that moment, Korto’s eyes still clenched shut in pain, the horrible image upon arriving back at his house had been too painful to ever die away.

Returning from their brief honeymoon to the Gallo Mountains, the largest mountain chain on the planet, Xander, who had not yet assumed his true identity, and his newly wedded wife, had discovered Xander’s hovel smashed and destroyed, raided by Imperial Stormtroopers. His mother, by now a feeble old lady, lay dying in the wreckage, unable to see or to attempt to call for help. Rushing to her side, Xander had received her loyal blaster as he cradled her in his arms, watching her die.

According to later reports, a Jedi Master’s family had been discovered and executed for crimes against the Galactic Empire, hiding on Naboo, of all places. Xander, assuming his original identity, Korto Vos, and his wife, travelled through the Galaxy, barely staying in one place long enough to settle down.

Before long, his wife fell pregnant, with their one and only child. They soon realised that they couldn’t keep running from the Empire when they now had a child to be fearful for. Scouting the Outer Rim, Korto finally decided on Tatooine as the last planet he would ever see, vowing never to leave, for fear of bringing Imperials down upon him and his family, as his father had done just by allowing his mother to relocate to Naboo.

They had decided to name their child after the man Korto’s wife had fallen in love with, Xander, and giving him back the surname Xander’s grandfather had worn with pride, Vos.

By now, the twin suns were beginning to set in the sky above Korto, who paused in his work to watch them cast a rosy glow across the land, the one time of day Tatooine looked even remotely desirable.

Shaking off the emotion welling in his gut, Korto returned to his work, knowing he would never see any other.

Tatooine – Mos Hurga

“Wowee! You’ve got an astromech! Your so lucky,” Xander Vos gushed, watching as the rusty R4 droid spun in its own tracks, digging into the loose sand, and spinning it up into the air.

“That’s not all I’ve got,” Xander’s friend and confident Jysek Talore said smugly, “I’ve got a speeder bike. My papa gave it to me as soon as he knew I was old enough to ride it.”

Xander sighed in disappointment. He longed for a speeder of his own, but knew his father thought it was dangerous, despite his abilities that Korto had begged him not to mention. Even at the age of ten, Xander felt like he was a small baby, presided over by his over-protective parents, who would never allow him to do anything on his own.

Jysek was four years his senior, already a teenager, and allowed to go out at night with only a Defence Droid to halter any unfriendly contact he could run into in Mos Horga. He was a friendly boy, a head taller than Xander, though always quick to Xander’s defence if ever trouble arose in his father’s centre.

Jysek was born from a rich family, which Xander was jealous of, having always known that poverty was a constant in his life, and that it would never change. Jysek’s father owned a large shuttle business, allowing people transport wherever they desired with no questions asked, though there was a hefty sum of money involved, Xander was sure of that.

“A speeder bike? Woah, your so lucky Jysek, can I take a ride?” Xander asked, hopefully, as he looked up into the hazelnut eyes of his friend, searching for an answer buried in them.

“Sure,” Jysek said, after a moment of consideration, “In a month or two, I wanna make sure its at optimum safety levels first, don’t want to have to explain to your Papa that I caused your death, now would I?” He asked, nudging Xander in the ribs, a grin splayed across his face.

Xander grinned ruefully, “Ah, ok. I guess I can wait,” he said, secretly disappointed that the only speeder bike he would ride would be the one he rode in his dreams, “But how awesome would it be to have your own star cruiser?” He said, changing the subject.

“Yeah,” Jysek said, smiling, pretending he didn’t notice the abrupt change in tempo, “My Papa says he’s set aside two. One for you and one for me.”

Xander’s eyes lit up, his heart lifting, “Really? My very own star cruiser?”

“Well, not exactly,” Jysek admitted, “Its a one man ship, a salvaged X-Wing fighter, from one of the battles the Rebels had against the Imperials.”

They both paused for a moment, their dreams of joining the Rebel Alliance soaring through their minds, as fast as the X-Wings they both imagined they were flying. Luke Skywalker, a now famous Rebel Pilot, had left Tatooine only a few years ago, and Jysek claimed to have met him once or twice, though Xander discounted that as hopeful wishing.

“Wow,” Xander murmured, “My very own ship.” Immediately, his heart sank, “But my Papa! He might not let me! After all, he doesn’t want me ever leaving here, because of the Imperials. He thinks I might get hurt,” Xander said, rolling his eyes. He still didn’t understand what the Imperials could want with him that they wouldn’t want with someone like Jysek, who had a rich family.

“I’m sure my Papa can talk to your Papa, and sort the whole thing out,” Jysek said, gently. He looked glum, realising that mentioning the ships, that his father had only just begun working on, may have sparked false hope inside Xander, and he instantly regretted it.

“Well, I gotta get home, or my Papa will get mad,” Xander said, glancing out at the setting sun, and the patiently waiting protocol droid.

“Oh, ok, nice seeing you again Xander, talk to you tomorrow,” Jysek said.

“Yeah, see you Jys!” Xander said, using his friend’s nickname, as he backed away, towards the waiting speeder, piloted by the Protocol droid that his father called his protector, but Xander saw through it. The Protocol droid was his nanny.

“Greetings Master Vos,” the droid said, bowing dutifully to his master, as the young boy clambered into the speeder.

“Yeah, yeah, thanks Ty,” Xander muttered to D-40, as he gazed up at the shining stars far above his head. As the speeder sped along, back to his hovel of a home, Xander wished that one day he would be able to fly amongst them.

Kroprulu – Sith Commander Minious’ Private Office

Commander Minious toiled dutifully in his office, working hard to compensate for recent losses in battles with blasted space pirates. Three Star Destroyers had been damaged, their aft engines had been forced to shut down for fear of starting a chain reaction and blowing the craft out of space.

The Empire’s ship yards on Felucia, usually only used if Rhen Var’s were over taken by an invader, were working over time, producing resources to accommodate for the growing fleets. Recently an extra fleet had been put under construction, as well as the need to put more TIE squadrons in the Star Destroyers.

As such, the battle against the pirates had been taxing in more ways then one; several Golan stations over Dargon had lost power, and so also needed repairs. Darth Minious’ rarely used office had seen a lot more frequency in the last few days as he calculated what they could use to make up for the materials needed.

The Super Star Destroyer orbiting Rhen Var was nearing completion, with half its compliment of Star Destroyers already complete. The other half was nearing completion, for many only needing the shield generators added, others requiring engines installed and others needed small systems installed.

Once they were complete, the three Star Destroyers in his fleet would be repaired, and he could once again return his fleet to maximum capacity.

Rubbing his eyes as they struggled to remain open, Darth Minious sighed, staring out the grand window in his office, glancing up at the shining stars, longing to be amongst them again.

Xander Vos

Chapter Two

** 4 ABY - 1 Month after Endor **

Tatooine – Vos Homestead

The creaking of their old speeder indicated her son’s return from his daily visits to his friend Jysek. Lysa Sornfree sighed, watching as the speeder came to a rumbling halt, her son dutifully hopping off as the droid returned it to its hangar, before exiting the craft itself, returning to shadow Xander and make sure he remained out of harm’s way whilst Lysa made the family’s dinner.

As a Jedi Knight, she had served in the Clone Wars on Maridun, seeing the deaths of her friends, feeling the gut wrenching betrayal as she had witnessed from afar the Clones turning upon their allies, cutting them down with cold precision. She had been lucky they had not found her, and to this day, no one knew she had served on that planet, had become the one branded the “Maridun Mystery” by the Empire’s officials as they searched for her. Not even her husband or son.

The cold bleakness here on Tatooine was a harsh reality she forced herself through. Her husband, twenty years her junior, though age mattered not to the pair, more in love then anything, and unable to deny their feelings for one another, slaved away all day. He returned to the hovel at night for a meal before curling up in their bed next to his betrothed, before awakening early the next morning and returning to set up the moisture vaporator.

He continued to promise her that before long he would be able to hire droid hands to do the work for him. He promised he that that would mean that he would be able to spend all day and all night with her, the two would finally be able to live out their dream. But then there was Xander. It was obvious to Lysa that her son didn’t belong on Tatooine, that the rest of his life belonged elsewhere, not here, slaving his heart away just to put a few scraps on the table.

Having a friend like Jysek didn’t help matters, the rich boy befriending Xander under innocent conditions, the two being true friends. He was slowly, unintentionally putting dreams and longings in Xander’s head, of flying away from this barren world, of fighting in the Rebellion, of becoming a Jedi.

That last thought caused a stone of dread to drop in Lysa’s stomach. Since Xander had been born, it had been clear that the descendant from the two famed Jedi was powerful in the Force, more attuned to it than she had ever been.

Since he had been four, he had begun finding lost things by levitating them, and revealing them. Desperate for him to have a normal life, she had begun scolding him and punishing him when she caught him using these powers.

Slowly, over time, he had stopped using them, genuinely believing them to be bad for him and his family, seeing it just as he saw being toilet trained, as a necessity for young children, assuming all children had gone through the stage he had.

When news had filtered through of the Emperor’s death at Endor several days ago, Korto and Lysa had seriously begun discussing allowing him to venture out into the Galaxy, and find his destiny, for it was clear he belonged amongst the Jedi, or at the very least the Rebellion. Korto still refused to think of ever letting his only son leave them forever, and venture out to find the Jedi, even though Lysa knew that at heart he knew it was inevitable. He knew that when Xander was old enough and began hearing about the Jedi of old, he would understand that his parents had lied to him and leave regardless.

Lysa snapped out of her reverie, as the tone on the cooker went off, and she rushed to pull the food from the cooker as Korto walked in, talking and laughing with Xander, who looked especially excited. He had obviously not told Korto the news, though, as he was basically ignoring Korto, as if wishing to get a word in to tell his news.

The smell of the settling food reached Lysa’s nose, as Korto and Xander sat at the table, awaiting her and her delicious home recipe. She quietly sat down as a droid put the finishing touches on it and brought it to the table on a hover-trolley.

“So, I got some great news from Jysek today,” Xander chimed in, his eyes shining brightly, as his father’s eyes snapped to cover Xander’s face, his attention riveted to the boy.

“What is it son? He got some new toy from his father? That man spoils his son in my opinion,” Korto said, sniffing haughtily, showing his distaste for the family he so regularly called snobs.

“Korto,” Lysa said, placing a placating hand on her husband’s arm, reminding him that, while the fathers didn’t get along, the sons certainly did, and that meant that Korto should try, at least when Xander was around.

Korto sighed, in resignation as much as in defeat, “I’m sorry, go on son,” he said, trying to sound genuinely curious, though failing by Lysa’s mark. Xander continued oblivious.

“Jysek said his Papa found two rusted X-Wing fighters in the desert, that hes gonna try and fix them, and give me and Jysek one each,” Xander said, “Can you believe it? My very own ship!”

Korto’s head snapped around to Lysa, a glare evident on his face, “Let me get my hands on that George,” he muttered, hands wringing the flimso-napkin in his lap, as if demonstrating what he would do to Jysek’s father. “Putting false hope in my son’s heart, and encouraging him to leave the planet, even though he knows where I stand on it.”

“Korto, the man can do what he chooses. It was Jysek who told Xander, not George, so taking your anger out on him would be pointless,” Lysa said, a small smile creeping onto her face. Even though the news saddened her, it also gave her delight, that finally Xander may have a way to escape this wretched world, and make a name for himself in the Rebellion, or in a new Jedi Order, if ever one would re-appear.

Xander glanced between his two parents, confused by their emotions. His father looked as if he wanted something to hit, to vent his anger at what Xander thought would make them happy. His mother looked as delighted as he had hoped his father would be.

“That’s wonderful,” Lysa said to Xander, a smile beaming across her face, “I’m sure your father will teach you how to fly it, won’t you Korto?” She said, giving him a small kick under the table.

“What? Oh, yes, of course I will teach you son. Did I ever tell you that tale about the time I flew a YT-2400 craft from Mos Horga to Mos Eisley? I flew half way around Tatooine followed by a group of pirates...” Korto droned on, Xander burying his face in his hands, as he’d heard this, seemingly, only exciting tale his father had to tell countless times.

Lysa saw the look on her son’s face and, noticing he had finished, took his plate and put it on the tray, “Perhaps you would like to go to bed, son? Its been a big day.”

Glad for an excuse to leave the table, Xander nodded enthusiastically, hopping down, and running to his room, probably intent on playing another game of Speeder Chase, though Lysa had no doubt that if she walked in, he would be speaking of arming the Torpedos, and linking lasers.

She turned to her husband, “Korto? When are you going to let him go? When are you going to let him live his life?”

Korto turned to her, in surprise, “Lysa, hes ten years old. Hes barely begun at the local school, so why should we even be discussing this? Other boys his age have no desire to leave home yet, they just want to get on with work, and perhaps start noticing girls, or boys, depending on who they are,” Korto said, in a gruff voice indicating he didn’t want to pursue the topic.

Lysa pressed him anyway, “But you know as well as I that Xander is no ordinary boy, that his abilities far surpass even your own.”

Korto glanced around, as if Imperial spies could burst from the adjoining rooms, stun cuffs at the ready, “Hush! Don’t you remember that we agreed never to speak of that?”

“Oh come on Korto, the Emperor is dead, the Empire weakened beyond repair. Perhaps the Jedi Order is on the mend. I have heard rumours that Luke Skywalker was the one to defeat Darth Vader, that he may be the son of Anakin Skywalker. That means he may have the Force running through his blood, that the Jedi could return.”

“Nevertheless, I don’t want my son making a target of himself for some Imperial hotshot assassin. If that Academy I saw in my visions was a current one...” Korto voice faltered, realising he had said to much already.

Lysa perked up, her attention riveted upon her husband’s face, “Academy? You mean a Jedi Academy? Where? Korto Vos, if you refuse to tell me...”

“I don’t no where,” Korto snapped, with uncharacteristic tension in his voice, “But yes, it had a Council, upon which the Force was strong, several initiates who practised lightsaber skills, what else could it be? I feel that the vision may not have been present, but it was not far in the past, and only perhaps one or two years in the future. It exists as a possible Academy for our son, but I fear that if he develops his skills, he will never see us again, that he will thrust himself into danger again and again, merely to prove himself to us, to his peers and Apprentices. He would do it as easily as you to your Master, like I did to my father,” at that point, Korto choked on his words, emotion welling up, as it did every time he mentioned his father. He had never known his father, the man having left him when he was very young, either to try his luck against the Empire, or find Jedi on the Holonews and warn them into hiding.

“You can’t see yourself as your father. Your son loves you, and would never think that you pushed him out into the galaxy, all alone. We should at least ask him if he wishes to go. George won’t have finished repairing the craft for a month or two tops, so we would have plenty of time to farewell him if he did choose to go, and so much the better for you if he chose to remain here by your side.”

Korto nodded, finally accepting the choice that he had denied to choose for years, “Very well, I will tell him in the morning. Until then, lets just be a family, not Jedi, merely people, enjoying the ones they love, and rejoicing in the time we have with each other.”

Lysa smiled gently, rubbing his arm, “I know it will be hard for you, my love, but it is his time, as it was for all Jedi children. His time has come later then most, but remember, the Chosen One was brought into the Order at the age of nine, and died heroically trying to save it at the Temple against Darth Vader. Our son is merely one year older, and not from the emotional scarring that Skywalker was from. He will achieve great things, that one.”

Bakura – Jedi Academy

Chaos reigned at the usually calm Academy. Ever since the Emperor’s death, loud rejoicing had torn through the facilities in the remote regions of the mountains of Bakura.

Jedi Council Members Vikro, and Koras had been frantic, trying to boost security measures around the area, worried that the Imperial outpost that had been stationed on Bakura for the last ten years may have heard these thunderous celebrations, and may attempt to investigate.

More problems had ensued in recent days with the Ssi-Ruuk invasion of the world, and the grand amount of attention the world was receiving throughout the Galaxy. The lizard-like race had burnt away large portions of the forest around the Academy, destroying, pillaging, and stealing all they could find.

The shield-generator and cloaking device surrounding the Academy had been strong enough, and the Ssi-Ruuk had moved on. Finally, the Rebellion had arrived, beating back the monsters, and Koras just hoped that all would return to usual soon.

He stood on a mountain peak near the Academy, surveying the capital city of the region, and the smoke billowing from it. He shook his head silently, his ears grace fully moving in the light wind, the pain in his heart immense, as he sensed each death come as a crippling blow to him.

“How are you, my friend?” Vikro said, from behind the Togrutan, a small, sad smile appearing on his face as he saw the small tear sliding down Koras’ orange cheek.

“Oh, hello Vikro, I apologise, I didn’t sense you. The chaos is causing me so much pain, I’m afraid I have put a barrier up, trying to block the Force’s impressions on me, each death is too crippling for me to bear for much longer.”

“Don’t apologise, Koras, I’ve done much the same,” Vikro said, moving to stand next to Koras and stare out into the sea of green forest in direct contrast to the orange and black flames billowing throughout the city.

“Have you had any more visions following yesterday’s one? Koras asked, not taking his eyes from the devastation.

“Only one,” Vikro answered, “The boy from the first was boarding an X-Wing, leaving his sandy home, and searching. Searching for what, I don’t know,” Vikro said frowning, his forehead wrinkling in confusion, “We must keep watch, for its possible his destination was here. He is a powerful being in the Force after all. I could feel that from here.”

Koras nodded, his voice seeming distant, “But is he destined to bring about greatness for our order, or leave in shadows?”

“I wonder that with every powerful recruit,” Vikro said, thoughtfully, “We must trust that the Force will guide us down the correct path, and not lead us astray. For without the Force, what do we have?”

Xander Vos

Chapter 3

** 4 ABY - 2 Months after Endor **

Tatooine – Mos Hurga

A month had passed since Xander had been told he would be allowed to leave Tatooine on completion of the craft Jysek’s father was making him, every day since having been one full of joy and happiness, nothing able to bring his mood down, or upset him. Even Jysek’s ignorant bragging did not upset him, only gave him cause to be happy for his friend’s good fortune, knowing that to him, he preferred the opportunity given to him, than to have a father who owned everything upon Tatooine.

The morning his father had told him the truth, had been the happiest day in his short life. The truth had stung, that his parents had lied to him hurt over everything else, but that they were giving the opportunity to leave Tatooine left that pain in a forgotten realm of his heart.

The following days had been a whirlwind of excitement, as Xander had told Jysek the excellent news, and inquiring how much longer his father would need to complete the repairs on the two craft. Jysek had said it would take nearly a month, and Xander had awaited the day that Jysek announced their completions anxiously.

“Xander? Xander? Xander Vos, can you hear me?” Jysek said, waving his slender hand in front of the ten-year-old’s face.

“Huh? What?” Xander said, waking from his daze of happiness.

“I said that my father has almost completed the craft. Do you want to go down as he finishes up? You can say your fare wells for your parents, then we can head down. Ok?” Jysek said, full of energy as he bounced around, anxious to see his very own space craft, and test it out.

“He’s ready? Why didn’t you say so?” Xander said, scrambling to his feet and racing to the door, glancing around, expecting the craft to be sitting right there, in the middle of Jysek’s father’s work shop.

“I have said it before, over and over, but you seemed spaced out, and wouldn’t stop smiling. You looked like a nerf herder,” Jysek said, with a teasing smile on his face, “Come on, I’ll race you there.” He said, racing off around the corner.

Xander complied, though they both knew it was an unfair challenge; Jysek knew where the craft were, and Xander didn’t, so Xander’s only chance to take over would be at the very end, giving Jysek more then enough time to win.

Extremely agile for his age, always having been one for agility, Xander quickly caught up to the unfit Jysek, who had already begun to pant and slow.

“Tired already?” Xander said, grinning as he too slowed. Jysek soon came to a halt, gazing up at something in front of him. Xander was still looking at him, “What? A thousand credit bill falling from the sky?” He taunted, glancing around to see what had caught Jysek’s attention.

The breath left his lungs as he stared up in amazement at the sleek, shiny T-65 Incom X-Wings standing on their landing struts in front of him, a thin layer of dust from the sandy floor having already begun to coat them, only adding to their mysticism.

George Talore, Jysek’s father, wiping an oily rag over one of the X-Wing’s wing’s, laughed as he saw the two wide eyed boys staring up at their very own craft.

“Thought you’d like it Xander, you can guess which is yours,” he added with a twinkle in his eyes, turning to gaze at his handy work, having turned two, rusty and incomplete X-Wings into these two works of art.

Xander nodded excitedly. One of the X-Wing’s painted instead of the customary orange and white, was almost purely green; strips of yellow running along the wings and cris-crossing over the cockpit. Xander had always preferred the colour green to any other, unable to explain it, though perhaps it had something to do with the fact that when he slept at night, some nights he saw glints of green, laser swords flashing from side-to-side. These laser swords, he had recently learnt were light sabers, the weapons of the Jedi, and the weapon of his Kiffu grand father, Quinlan Vos.

He looked questioningly at George, who nodded approvingly, and Xander quickly scrambled aboard the craft, running his hand softly over the controls, which were already blinking, flashing, and throbbing. He couldn't believe it was all his, and he owed nothing to George.

He leaned out of the open cockpit, and shouted above the noise of Jysek starting his craft, the noise crashing around the room. “Are you sure I don’t owe you anything George?” He asked.

George smiled, and spread his hands placatingly, “I’m sure. Seeing the smile on your face, and knowing this will let you achieve your dreams is payment enough,” he said, as he turned, “Just remember, allow Jysek to teach you how to fly it before trying on your own, I don’t want your dreams to lay amongst the dust.”

“I will sir, I promise.” Xander said, powering up his own craft as Jysek quickly ran over the basics via the comm unit in his craft. His craft. Xander felt a shiver of excitement run down his spine. This wasn’t a fantasy he was about to wake up from, this wasn’t someone else’s craft, this was real. This was his.

He goosed the throttle, and nudged his yoke down, letting the craft slip up into the air, and out through the recently opened roof by George, and out into the blue, cloudy sky. The sky was so free. There were no boundaries in the sky, no mother to call you in when you went to far, no father to punish you for not telling him where you were going. The sky was his.

Tatooine – Vos Homestead

Korto had finished packing Xander’s bags, an ordeal he had thought would reduce him and Lysa to tears, but both of them remained dry eyed, as dry as Tatooine was hot.

His possessions rested at the door, to be sent ahead of him to wherever he wanted to go, as they were to many to fit with him in his snub fighter. Fighter. Korto hated the fact that Xander would be flying a craft suited for war. He hoped George had not repaired the proton tubes and lasers and refilled them, but had decommissioned them and added more to the cockpit.

Even though his father and his wife had been Jedi, fighting viciously in a war manipulated from the start, Korto couldn’t stand the thought of fighting. He knew in his heart that if he had become a Jedi, he would have been one of the Healers Lysa used to talk about when in a mood good enough to disclose a bare amount of information about the Jedi, and how they used to live.

Lysa moved over to stand by her husband, slipping her small hand in his large, callused one, her tender skin rubbing against his hard skin. “He’ll be alright, you know,” she murmured, “Last night, I had a vision, not one from a changeable future, but one I knew in my heart would take place. It was our son, a grown man and wielding a lightsaber, padawan by his side, fighting in a bitter conflict, that takes place decades from now, on a far off world.”

Korto nodded, uneasy that Lysa had confirmed her son’s survival, only to fight in a war he may not come away alive from, “Then we must hope the Force guides him to victory in battle, and allow him to die at peace with himself and the Force.”

“As it should always be,” Lysa said, ending their phrase. Ever since Xander had been little, he had been unable to understand the deaths of his small pets. Once, when Xander had caught a wild Ibian, rare to their parts, he had fallen in love with it, nurturing it as it grew. When it had died, he had been distraught, but Lysa, allowing one of her rare mentions of the Force told him the creature had been at peace with itself and the Force, as it always should be. Xander had understood, and had rejoiced that his pet had moved on into a greater place.

Lysa knew her son would become a powerful, and wise man. He had had an understanding about life and the Force from such a young age, and would never fear the bitter selfishness that came often with attachment if he understood what happened to life after death.

A roar in the distance from powerful engines signalled the fast approaching vehicles of Jysek and Xander, and Korto squinted in the distance, watching as the small black specks slowly grew into round orbs, then split into the X that gave the craft its name.

Soon the craft touched down outside the small hovel, and Xander hopped from his craft, racing towards his parents, already almost as tall as his father, and still growing at a rapid rate.

“Dad! Mum! Did you see me? I raced Jysek all the way here from the Jundland Wastes! That’s almost four klicks away!” Xander said, his eyes wide with excitement as he reached up to hug his parents, kissing his mother on the cheek.

“Yes, we saw you,” Lysa said, trying to suppress the grin that was spreading, try as she might, around her face, tears of joy at seeing her son so happy finally entering her eyes, “You, my son, are quite a pilot, and only a beginner at that.”

“Aww, your just saying that mum,” Xander said, turning to his dad, as his grin began to falter, “Well, I guess this is good bye, dad,” he said, a tear glistening in his eye.

“I told you,” Korto said sternly, almost angrily, “Call me papa.”

Xander, who had begun to stiffen, relaxed, and grinned, grabbing his father in a bear hug, holding him for what seemed like hours, as if he would never hold him again. He turned again to his mother.

“See you mum, I’ll try to visit if I ever become a Jedi,” Xander said, hugging her to his body again, kissing her on the cheek as he tasted the salt from her tears as they ran freely down her cheeks now.

“Good bye son,” she said, proudly, ruffling his hair as she stepped back, glancing at Korto again as Xander picked up his things, depositing them in a nearby transport, and giving it his hyper-comm code.

“Xander,” Korto said, drawing him back to his father. “My mother gave this to me, and she told me the tale of how she used it to help save my father’s life,” Korto said, producing a sleek DH-17 Blaster Pistol.

Xander’s eyes bulged. The fact that his father was giving him a weapon, much less one so valuable to him was unprecedented, but he looked back up as he realised his father hadn’t finished.

Korto turned, and picked up a pair of scaly boots from the side of the home stead, “These I made from the hulk of a Krayt Dragon’s hide. They are powerful, and will last through pretty much anything, even a direct blaster shot. I made them specially for you,” Korto said, looking at his only son, emotion welling in his eyes, “They are adaptable as well, and should fit you for almost your entire life.”

“Thank you papa,” Xander said, his voice barely a whisper as emotion welled in his throat, turning his voice husky, as he hugged his father fiercely again, unwilling to let go of the man he saw as the only role model in his life.

Jysek stood patiently by his craft, shuffling uncomfortably, clearly awkward in such a scene of emotion, unsure whether he should turn away, or if that would just make it more awkward.

Xander walked over to him, grinning, and taking one last look at his home. Shocked at the scene before him, one of flames, pain, and death. Blinking rapidly, the vision fell away, his parents and his intact home replacing it. Feeling dazed, he waved his parents off, climbing into his craft, as Jysek climbed into his.

Checking all pre-flight systems were alright, he set off, watching as Jysek, much less clumsy then Xander, also set off, doing a few spins and dives to show off as usual.

As Xander reached the outer atmosphere, he turned to watch Jysek’s craft. “Well, this is it Jysek,” he said, for some reason more emotional to say good bye to Jysek than to his parents.

“See you Xander, have a good life. Might see you again some day,” Jysek said, wiggling his wings in respect for his friend.

“Well, don’t want to start crying now,” Xander joked, “See you.” He pulled back the lever that he had pre-set with co-ordinates, and watched for the first time as the stars elongated and turned into blue swirls, as he made the jump into Hyperspace that he had always wanted.

Tatooine – Outer Atmosphere

Jysek watched Xander go, knowing where he was going, having calculated the jump for Xander before transmitting it to his nav-computer. His hand rested on the Hyperspace lever, battling with inner demons.

If he left to follow his friend, he left his family behind. If he stayed with his family, he let his long time friend, and almost brother, in a sense, go out and explore the galaxy on his own.

Jysek sighed, his brown eyes searching amongst the stars, as if looking for an answer amongst them. Finally, making up his mind, he pulled back the lever, making the jump to Hyperspace.

Bakura – Jedi Academy

Vikro sat in quiet contemplation. Weeks ago, the Ssi-Ruuk had been beaten back by the combined Rebel Alliance and Imperial remnants. Now their world had returned to peace. He breathed in deeply, as if soaking in the harmonious feelings.

He heard footsteps behind him, and glanced up to watch Grand Master Abba sit down besides him, her eyes closed in meditation.

“What news of the boy?” She asked simply, not opening her eyes, or falling out of meditation.

“He has left, his destiny brings him here,” Vikro said, his forehead knotting in confusion, “And, somehow, I feel a connection with him, as if his destiny and mine are intertwined, like twine on a ball.”

“You must be careful with that one,” Abba said, turning to her friend and opening her eyes, “I sense much darkness in his heart, whether that be now, or from events in the near future. If he is to come to the Temple, he will need a wise and just Master, to help him turn that darkness into light.”

“I know, Abba,” Vikro said, “And that’s what I’m afraid of.”

Xander Vos

Chapter Four

** 4 ABY - 2 Months after Endor **

Hyperspace – Near Naboo

The klaxons awoke Xander in a jolt from his doze. They signalled that he was nearing the gravity mass of Naboo, and that he needed to exit Hyperspace soon. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he blinked, quickly becoming alert. Pulling back the lever slowly, the engines began to slow, reducing their speed by hundreds of kilometres a second, next to nothing compared to how fast they were going.

Soon they reached the cut-off point, and as they slowed further, the blue spiral of Hyperspace sucked into the distance, as if it had encountered vacuum, turning the stars back into the familiar pinpoints of light, and surrounding Xander with darkness, as well as a lush, quiet world in front of him.

He ran his hands lovingly over the controls of his ship that had brought him to this world, the world he had heard of in tales from his parents. The world where his father had married his mother. The world where his grand mother had been hunted down by the Empire and killed. Naboo.

Swiftly cutting his thrust, he spun gracefully in toward the planet, Jysek’s quick and brief lessons coming in handy as he quickly began to learn more and more about his craft.

As his craft entered the upper atmosphere, his comm unit crackled like a Worrt suffocating from its own tongue, and Xander jumped, “Yes? Who is it?” He demanded, his voice high-pitch with fright, thinking of who it could be: Space Pirates, Smugglers, Thieves, Rogues, or worse.

“This is Theed-Space Docking Bay immigration control,” a drawling voice said, “Please state your name, and be sure to disembark at one of our several Docking Bays, and check into our Immigration Centre for your City pass, thank you.”

Xander chuckled embarrassingly, unable to believe he had over reacted, “My name is Xander Vos. I’ll only be staying in Theed for a short time. I’m on a sort of trip down memory lane. I need to learn more about my past.”

There was a pause over the comm, then something that sounded like a chocked gasp, “Xander Vos? As in The Vos? Quinlan Vos’ descendant? You aren’t welcome here,” the voice said, loosing its drawl and becoming tough.

“I only want to set down for a while,” Xander said, confused as to why Vos was such a bad surname to have, and what his parents and grand parents could have possibly done.

After what seemed an eternity to the mind of the ten year old, the Controller came back on, “Fine, you may land, Vos, but only for forty-eight hours, no more. We will search all baggage you carry with you, and any that may arrive addressed for you. Count yourself lucky we’re even allowing you to land at all.”

“Oh, I am,” Xander said graciously, switching off the comm, and turning into a descent softly, towards the capital city, Theed, which was only a few hundred klicks from Keren, the important city his parents had lived in.

His craft cruised to a stop in Docking Bay 2781, where he switched the engines off, listening in wonder as they crackled, the heat leaving the metal casing readily into the atmosphere. He still couldn’t get over the fact that this craft was his own.

Walking briskly over to the customs control office located near the Docking Bays, Xander surrendered the pass-code to the X-Wing, with the information the code would change in three hours, so they should hurry their search.

Changing the pass code on craft was common after a customs inspection and check of a person’s luggage, otherwise a pilot ran the risk of allowing a corrupt officer to make off with their craft and never return.

Xander gazed off impatiently, as he awaited the confirmation his craft was clean, and the all clear from the customs for him to fly around Naboo, in the form of an ID tag he would attach to the end of his craft’s unique tag.

As he gazed through the sky, he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him, because, as he watched, a familiar X-Wing set down in a Docking Bay near his.

Bakura – Jedi Academy

The Council flowed into the room like a smooth river gliding into the ocean, as they spread out, taking their seats and nodding at each other in respect, as was customary at the start of every Council Meeting.

“First order,” The Grand Master of the Order, Abba said, speaking forth, “The recent invasion of Bakura by the Ssi-Ruuk is over, but the damage is still being fixed. We need to send a Jedi team to help them, usual procedure applies of course.”

As the Jedi Academy on Bakura was secret, any contact the Order had with the rest of Bakura was as a group of devout monks, of a religion so dull that so far no one from the main cities or towns had investigated their “monastery”. If Jedi were sent to mediate an argument, or defend them, they always appeared in brown robes, using the Force to convince locals they were with the local armed forces.

If anything more serious arose, their were recorded instances in the Order’s history where the Jedi had taken an active role in the planet’s defence, even going so far as to use their lightsabers in public. Afterwards, they were forced to wipe the short term memory of any witnesses, in order to preserve the Order.

This had become a much more serious reality in the recent years with the Jedi Purge initiated by Emperor Palpatine, and carried out by Darth Vader, a Sith, and legions of Clones. Several prominent Jedi in the Order had been killed whilst out on field missions, and more had been tracked to Bakura, where they had had to make sure all Inquisitors were dead, and could not relay the reports to Darth Vader or the Emperor himself.

“I agree,” Vikro said, his mind still focussed on the peculiar boy from his visions, “Perhaps Padawan Urwen Udeseesie and his Master Jorkath Hant should be sent. I know Urwen is nearing Knighthood, with only a few years to go, and it would serve to remind him how cruel and unforgiving the world outside these walls can be like.”

Rive Caedo, sitting next to Vikro, was a Senior Council Member, and the one rumoured to have been next in line to be Grand Master before Abba was brought onto the Council. When Abba had been put on the Council, the unanimous vote for the next Grand Master was in her favour. He nodded his head, “Interesting idea, Vikro,” he said, with his customary grin on his face, “Urwen has been a tad arrogant, and it will do him good.”

After the customary vote and predictable unanimous decision, they moved onto the next, and only other issue, a much more serious one.

“Kinyen, home to the peaceful Grans, a planet in Bakura’s vicinity, has been witnessing untold acts of horror in the past few months,” Abba said. “We need to send one of the Council to mediate the situation and bring the ring-leaders of this terrorist group calling themselves Black Haven into custody.”

“I will go,” Vikro said, speaking up again, “I am without a Padawan, and so would be perfect for this mission without disrupting the flow of life around the Temple. When would I leave?”

“In a month or two,” Abba replied, “I am still fixing the agreement with the Kinyenian Government, and they seem hesitant to get us involved.”

Although they remained secret on Bakura, the Order was known throughout the Galaxy as the “Peace Bringers” a group of fanatic individuals trying to bring peace to the Galaxy, and to heal wounds left by the Empire. All communication to the Galaxy was through triangular signals, so as to never be able to trace them back to their Temple on Bakura.

In generations past, when the Coruscanti, Corellian, and Dantooine Orders had been strong, they had been another Jedi Order, known as the “Phantom Order” their location a secret. In the lead up to the Clone Wars, the Order had retreated, and the Purge had further confirmed that the “Phantoms” had disappeared.

“Very well,” Vikro said, “I will be ready to leave as soon as possible.”

Naboo – Theed Docking Bays

Xander rushed to the craft, his heart in his mouth as he watched the canopy slowly hiss open, steam expelling as it rejoined its natural environment. The pilot glanced around before swinging over and onto a ladder that had moved over to magnetically attach to the side of the craft.

As he reached the bottom rung, he reached up and took his helmet off, allowing his long locks of golden hair to swing free, revealing the face Xander had dreaded to see: Jysek’s.

“What are you doing here?” He demanded, rushing forward to shake Jysek roughly by the forearm.

“Woah, steady on, I thought you’d be glad to see me,” Jysek said, frowning slightly, unsure as he faced his friend’s steely face, “My Dad doesn’t need me as much as you do. You’re so young, and haven’t ever been off-world alone before. You need someone to help you. If,” he started, as he saw Xander open his mouth to protest and say he didn’t need help, “you don’t need help, then at least you have a friend by your side when things get tough,” he said, his eyes twinkling merrily.

Xander’s tough face studied Jysek for a few seconds, before a reluctant grin breaking across it, “Alright, you can come,” he said, turning to leave the Docking Bay. What was left unsaid was Xander’s immediate assumption of leader, despite Jysek being his senior by three years in age.

“So, ah, where are we going?” Jysek said, jogging to catch up. He glanced around nervously at the shadowy figures lurking in slimy walkways and shadowing corners of the space port.

“To Keren, a city a few hundred klicks north of Theed,” Xander said, “But first I need to get my ID tag for my craft. They’re searching it, so I guess we just wait in the main office,” Xander said, heading back to where he had been upon seeing Jysek’s X-Wing touch down. “You’ll need one as well,” Xander remarked, “My X-Wing won’t hold you as well.”

“Yeah, ok,” Jysek said, obviously not fussed about having his new craft searched roughly by customs, “So what do you want to do in Keren?”

“That’s where my grand parents lived, and my parents for a while,” Xander said softly, having not spoken of this subject yet with Jysek.

“Oh yeah?” Jysek said, “Do you know what your Grand Parents names were?”

“My Grand Father was Quinlan Vos, a Jedi Master of the Old Republic, my Grand Mother was Khaleen Hentz. My mother was also a Jedi, back in the day,” Xander said, not slowing to catch the slight bulge of surprise in Jysek’s eyes.

“Your relatives were Jedi? That means you-”

“Yes,” Xander said, cutting him off, “I can use the Force. I was planning on trying to find some sort of Academy where I could hone my abilities. You’d be welcome there, I doubt anyone who uses the Force for good would turn a good pilot away,” he said with a wink.

“But isn’t,” Jysek said glancing around, before lowering his voice, “Isn’t the Empire still in control, sort of? I mean, look what happened to the Jedi at the end of the Clone Wars. Their arrogance got ahead of them, and the Empire vowed to slaughter them all.”

Xander didn’t bother correcting him with the details he had learnt from his mother, because he knew Jysek didn’t believe what he had just said anymore then Xander did. Jysek had always romanticised of being a Jedi Knight and travelling the Galaxy, doing good deeds, though he knew he never could, with the oppressive presence of the Empire.

Jysek’s father had been a pilot working on Coruscant, occasionally running supply lines for the Jedi, and had always been soft for them, sharing plenty of stories with a young Jysek, against Jysek’s mothers recommendations.

Naboo – Theed Custom’s Control Office

A few hours later, Jysek’s craft also cleared for lift-off, Xander and Jysek were ready to leave Theed, Jysek not anxious to hang around after several lumbering drunks had sworn at him, telling him he was the “son of a liver-bellied nerf-herder,” and that he had no purpose in life.

Splitting up again, Xander watched as Jysek’s craft glided into the air, and he rose as well, following Jysek. Although Jysek personally didn’t know where Keren was, he probably knew how to operate the nav-computer a lot better then Xander, and so was going to lead the two of them to the city.

Xander dutifully followed Jysek, soon tiring of what he had once thought would never tire him, flying his very won craft, and he set it on auto-pilot. Instead, he took the time to soak in the luscious views of Naboo’s landscape, with the cliffs and waterfalls found commonly around Naboo. Although they were a common occurrence, no one ever took them for granted, always amazed by their dazzling beauty.

Drifting off to sleep for the first time in over twenty-four hours, Xander awoke to Jysek’s voice over the comm.

“Xander? Xander?”

“Huh? What?” Xander said sleepily, pushing in the button to activate the comm.

“What were you doing?” Jysek said, almost exploding in anxiety, sounding a lot like Xander’s mother.

“I was sleeping. Relax Jysek,” Xander said.

“Relax? How am I supposed to relax? You could have been dead, for all I know! I’ve been trying to talk to you for over ten minutes! Do you know how worried I was?”

A quick comment about how he sounded like Lysa, and Jysek shut up with an embarrassed grunt, and a change of topic.

“Anyway, we’re almost there, so get ready,” he said, “You’ll need to press the blinking orange button to turn off your auto-pilot, then pull back on the green-striped lever to revert to human control.”

“Alright,” Xander said, complying instantly with Jysek, eager to get down to Keren, and find the rumoured cave in which his Grand-Mother was buried, Korto having buried her minutes before escaping the world with Lysa.

Xander Vos

Chapter Five

** 4 ABY - 2 and a half months after Endor **

Naboo – Keren

After touching down side-by-side, the two boys had asked for directions, and had purchased hiking gear. Xander knew the cave was somewhere in the mountainous regions, and was intent on finding it.

After several hours of marching, and un-ending complaining from Jysek, Xander stopped, also beginning to become short of breath, and took a small break, gazing in wonder at a spectacular waterfall. It always amazed him, coming from the arid planet Tatooine, how much water was taken for granted, but was guilty of the same crime, having slipped into the routine of expecting water, and not caring if he wasted a small bit on cooling the back of his neck.

The mountains were steamy, the humid air sending rolls of sweat down Xander’s neck, and the lack of oxygen in the air made it hard for him to breathe, his breaths coming in short, shallow gasps. The path was a perilous one, with small bits of shale falling away from where they placed their feet, and sometimes causing Jysek or Xander to stumble, perilously close to tipping over the edge and into oblivion.

The summit of the mountain, a few hundred meters above them, was pitted with a cave, and Xander knew in his heart that that was where his grand mother lay, eternally at peace with the world around her, here in this beautiful place of nature.

Pushing forward with the last reserves of his energy, despite Jysek’s protests, Xander clawed his way up towards the summit, finally making it, before rolling over and panting for breath. What had begun as a small break had deteriorated as the sun beat on, and now as he lay at the summit, he could feel the heat washed over him, and despite his resistance to it from growing up on Tatooine, he was still exhausted from it.

The cave felt like a yawning pit, drawing Xander in to find the truth, and to put his grand mother to rest properly. He shakily managed to find his feet as Jysek flopped onto his belly at the summit twitching as he lay there, his life of little exercise finally proving to be his downfall.

The cave was like an energy source, drawing Xander closer, as he peered in, blinking a few times to adjust his eyes to the dim light. Inside, a small headstone sat at the far end of the cave, rustic in its appearance, but the most powerful symbol Xander had ever seen; the small, quiet area and the humble headstone resonating a large amount of emotion in the young boy.

Kneeling by the head stone, his head dipped in respect, Xander removed material from his bag that he had brought, adorning the small tomb with flowers and a small plaque he had written, paying his own respects to his Grand Mother.

Jysek stood at the entry way, subtly clearing his throat as if to suggest they should leave soon. After all, Xander had less then six hours to leave Naboo under the terms dictated to him by the Space Control officer.

Sighing in disappointment that he didn’t have more time to spend with his grand mother, Xander slowly got to his feet, walking slowly back towards the entrance of the cave, and back to his adventure.

Kroprulu – Military Headquarters

The darkness was encroaching, and Darth Minious stood atop his Order’s bulb in the Sith Temple, allowing the soft wind to blow wisps of his hair out of his strictly tight arrangement as he soaked in the calmness of the evening.

He turned, as he sensed a young presence behind him, in the form of his Apprentice, Ackin, who was approaching her trials at which she would be named Darth Actir.

“My Lord, the Council requests an update on the repairs to your fleet,” She said, dutifully bowing before her age-old Master.

“Tell them my Super Star Destroyer has been repaired, and that I plan to leave in my personal craft for a while. It could be a month, it could be a year, it could be ten years, but continuously here I have felt alone, as if I have not a single friend in the world.”

Ackin shifted uncomfortably, knowing that as his Apprentice, she was his confidant, but still feeling unworthy of carrying such information, “But my Lord, the Empire loves you, the Council respects you greatly, the Empress is always happy to confide in you.”

Darth Minious turned to her in sadness, “But those are titles, you have mentioned, the Empire, the Council, the Empress, not people. I have been a part of this Empire for almost four thousand years, and have never felt the touch of a woman as a husband does of his wife. I have never felt joy in having a friend who is one not because of my position or my legend, but because of who I am. For that reason, I need to be alone, contemplate how I seem to be to the rest of the Empire, if I am doing my duty correctly. You must understand.”

Ackin nodded, her heart full of sympathy for her Master, “Of course I do. But what about my training?”

“It is taken care of,” Darth Minious said, turning once again to watch the sunset, as the three moons orbiting the wonderful world began to appear in the darkness, “I have suggested your trials be commenced, and Lord Tontie will be partaking them for you. I see you becoming a powerful Sith Lady, with far more respect from the individuals of the Empire then i ever could. Because you see what is truly important. It isn’t how much power you hold, or how much you try and help others, but your compassion for the individuals, your sympathy for their problems. With the Empire as your loyal friends, it is much easier to lead them into battle, then those who respect what you represent.”

“Thank you my Master,” Ackin said, her eyes almost spilling forth the tears that they concealed, “You have been wise to me, and I will always remember you, whether or not you return.”

Darth Minious nodded, “Thank you Ackin. And may the Dark Side be with you.”

Naboo – Keren Starport

Xander approached his craft again with loving care, as he examined it for scratches or any small signs of damage from the journey here from Theed. Jysek, at his own craft, was doing the same.

It was still hard for Xander to accept that he had once been just a small farmer boy. Now he felt like he had the biggest opportunity in the Galaxy. Nearly eighty percent of the Galaxy’s population were born and died never owning their own star ship, and Xander had been given one in the first ten years of his life.

The space controllers had given him permission to leave the world on his own accord, a little to eagerly for Xander to feel as if he had ever been wanted on the usually accepting world.

Jysek, his loyal friend, had been with him since he had been four, and Jysek eight, a young, street-smart kid, with a strong desire to show off for the young boy. Xander had first met him when Korto had taken him to the Talore workshop to show him how they repaired moisture vapourators, but Xander had gotten bored almost immediately, and had wondered off.

There he had been beholden to the most wondrous sight: a young boy programming his own translator, and checking every few seconds to see what words it could translate. The boy’s carefree attitude and disregard for his father, as Xander assumed George Talore to be, and what was going on around him.

The two had been friends ever since, with Xander gazing on in amazement as Jysek moved on from the translator to a small laser gun that fired harmless beams for a short distance, and from the gun to the astromech droid he had received a few months ago.

Xander couldn’t remember a time that he hadn’t had such a good friend and confident, someone he could be himself with, and at ease with the world around him. He couldn’t imagine the horrible life beholden to someone without a friend such as Jysek.

The craft checked out, and Xander clambered eagerly into the cock pit, willing to leave the world behind, though always wondering if he could somehow procure a fake I.D and return for a longer amount of time to see his Grand-Mother.

Naboo- Outer Atmosphere

Darth Minious’ craft, the Torturer, had made the journey quicker then he had expected. Leaving only hours after speaking with his Apprentice, Darth Minious had arrived at Naboo, hoping to find solitude in the mountainous regions, away from civilisation and the judging gazes of the people that accompanied it.

As his craft flew into the atmosphere, he watched in amusement as two X-Wings left the atmosphere from Keren, their jerky steering testament to the fact that Darth Minious could sense young boys in the cockpits of each.

“Amateurs,” he sneered under his breath, as he guided his craft gently and artistically into Keren, where the boys had just left, discarding them from his mind almost immediately as he thought of the excuse he could come up this time for the Sith Council as to why he killed the Customs Control Officers.

Xander Vos

Chapter Six

** 5 ABY **

Kinyen – Outer Space

Months had flowed together like water after Xander had left Naboo. His adventures had led him as far in as Corellia, where he had researched the age old myths of the Xargressia, a species that could live for untold millennia, but which had never been proven to have existed, except in folk lore.

More recently, Xander and Jysek had moved back out into the Outer Rim, hoping to learn from the once highly advanced Gran race on Kinyen. The three eyed aliens held much respect from Xander, as he knew the burden they carried. During the Galactic Civil War they had been branded traitors to the Empire, and a large amount of the population enslaved, because they had produced several Jedi Knights, a noticeable one amongst them being Maks Leem.

The planet had also remained loyal to the Republic, and so a large Imperial task force had been placed in orbit. In recent years, that task force had been defeated by local insurgents combined with the Rebellion to restore the planet to how it was before the Clone Wars.

Now though, those insurgents had turned rebel, rebelling against even the government they had helped put in place. One such group, the main group that supposedly the rest fell in order to, was the Black Haven, a vicious group led by a human from Corellia. Xander had hoped to aide the government in putting down the rebellion, and had carefully prepared his blaster his father had given him, the one his grand mother had used to save Quinlan Vos’ life. It was as shiny as if it were recently bought, the power pack, and three back ups fully charged.

Jysek sat in his craft, near Xander’s, his own weapon, an S-5 Blaster Pistol he had managed to buy on the black market near Ord Mantell. The two knew that whilst they were only children, Xander, now eleven, and Jysek, now fifteen, were well on their way into adulthood, with the usual muscle additions of puberty giving them both an edge over the lax and lazy gang.

Xander hoped, most of all, that as he was only eleven, he would be over looked, and could easily over power some of the insurgent group.

The crackle on his comm broke him out of his vicious thought process, as he depressed the button to answer, “Yes?” He answered, with new confidence he had gained over the months of space travel.

“You may set down in minutes, sir,” came the reply from one of the control towers on Kinyen, the nasal sound of the Gran on the other end of the comm apparent in the communication.

“Thank you, I will be down presently,” Xander said, “As will my companion.”

Kinyen – Surface

The majority of the lush world was covered in forests and grasslands, though there were several main cities. Xander and Jysek had landed in the capital city, which reminded Xander somewhat of his recent visit to Corellia.

The city was full of smog and confusion, the buildings stretching high into the sky, as if yearning for the icy grip only space could hold them in. The main mode of transport was speeder, although some preferred walking, as the city was only a couple of kilometres in diameter.

Xander wondered the streets with awe, occasionally stopping to ask a passer-by for questions about Black Haven, the only response being a bead of sweat moving down a man’s forehead here before he ran off, or a darting of the eyes of an Ithorian there.

Jysek had suggested they try to act as bait for the gang, and Xander had agreed, and soon enough, looks of childish fear on their faces to compliment the act they were putting on, they headed into a dead-end alleyway, where they made sufficient noises of despair and panic.

“Alright kiddies, hand over yer valuables,” a heavily accented voice forced out in Basic. As Xander and Jysek whirled around in mock panic, they saw a shady Devaronian step out of the shadows, holding a Repeating Rifle.

Xander quickly made a whimper of fear, before nodding his head quickly, as if in compliance, as he reached slowly down to, as it would appear to the thug, pull his wallet out. As he grasped into his pocket, he felt the familiar grip of his blaster. Glancing over at Jysek, he gave his friend a microscopic nod.

“Well come on mateys, we don’t have all day, and I’m sure you don’t want a face full of blaster bolts,” the thug gestured impatiently.

“Very well, if you don’t wish to wait for your death,” Xander said, whipping the blaster out, firing a snap shot into the Devaronian’s arm and Jysek, who had been slowly edging towards the thug dived on him, pinning him down. The screech of pain the thug let out was quickly silenced by a strong arm clamped across his mouth.

“Tell me where your leader is,” Xander said, standing over him, as Jysek let go of the thug’s mouth, but keeping it hovering close, in case the thug had delusions of grandeur and wished to chance his luck at another scream for help.

“I don’t know what your talking about, I work on my own,” the thug said, his eyes darting nervously.

Xander took a deep breath and centred himself, trying to sink into the Force as best he could. Over the months, he had been practising Force Persuasion on Jysek with his permission, and had a small mastery over it.

“You will tell me where your leader is, now,” he said, knowing full well this man was a member of Black Haven, the Devaronian must have thought them more idiots than he if he expected them to not have noticed the emblazoned insignia on the right shoulder of the light armour the man wore.

“I will tell you where my leader is. He is in the lower levels of the fourth district from the space port, please don’t hurt me,” the Devaronian managed to whisper out before Jysek again clamped his hand over the thug’s face.

“Which level?” Xander demanded, glancing around to make sure no reinforcements had arrived to aide their fallen comrade.

“Level 2B,” the thug managed to choke out, “But you need a pass-code, its ‘Safe House’.”

“Thank you,” Xander said, rising again from his stooped position, and glancing away as Jysek released the thug, “You’ve been very helpful. Now, go home, buy some good clothes,” he said as he eyed the thug’s pore clothes, the clash a horrible greeny-brown, “And get a proper job.”

“Yes, yes, proper job,” the Devaronian said eagerly, straightening his jacket, and stretching to remove the cramps that had begun to build up.

“Very well, get out of here,” Xander said, twitching his head in the direction of the entrance to the alley. The thug scampered out without need of further encouragement. Xander glanced at Jysek, who had scooped up the man’s blaster and checked the ammo count.

“Empty, as expected,” Jysek said, tossing the spent weapon to the side, “You’d think Black Haven would have enough credits to at least supply its minions with ammo for their weapons, I mean, sometimes people must resist the mugging’s.”

“The people here live in fear, they would rather give up their credits than their lives.” Xander murmured, “Now come on, I have little doubt the thug will turn over a new leaf, and we should get out of here before he returns with a group of his friends who actually do have ammo.”

Bakura – Jedi Academy

The transport hummed, alive with static electricity as it both prepared for the coming journey, and discharged the build up of static into the ground. The engines gave a few test ignites as the pilot checked that everything was in working order.

Vikro stood a short distance away, gazing at the craft, deep in thought after another restless night of visions of the young boy, reminding him of an old friend he could not identify, but also seeming to be a fresh new face he could never have met before.

“So your leaving, then?” A smooth voice said from over his shoulder, the voice belonging to Jedi Master Asil Leikane, also known as Shatterpoint by her close friends.

“The shuttle is ready, and nothing else remains to be done,” Vikro said, choosing not to answer her question directly.

A faint smile hovered on Shatterpoint’s lips as she too picked up on this, “Well, I have come to give you my farewell, although I know within the week you will be back within our arms. It still saddens me to have to farewell fellow Council Members to missions, as there is always that shade of doubt deep at the back of my mind that, try as I might, I cannot remove. It feeds on me, telling me the chances that this mission could fail, that you could be killed in a gang ambush.”

“Now you’re making me nervous,” Vikro said jokingly with a grin on his face. As Shatterpoint opened her mouth to speak again, he interjected “But don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

“Master Jedi?” The pilot said, standing at the base of the ramp, looking entirely too awkward as he interrupted the two powerful Jedi from looked like an intimate farewell.

“Well, I must go,” Vikro said, smiling sadly, “Farewell Asil, do not fear, I will be back within the month. Give my closest regards to Koras. May the Force be with you.”

“May the Force be with you,” Shatterpoint said, nodding her head as she returned the customary farewell.

Turning, Vikro walked slowly over to the shuttle, boarding the craft. As he settled, he heard the whine, as the door slammed shut, knowing when they next opened, he would be on Kinyen.

Kinyen – Black Haven Base

The turbo lift hummed with electricity as it plunged further below the surface of the lush world. Jysek stood, brimming with energy and impatience, as Xander sat, calmly, centering himself, and calling the Force to himself. He breathed heavily in annoyance. Pulling the Force to him was like attempting to hold water in his hands. The harder he tried, the more it slipped through his fingers.

Finally, to Jysek what seemed like centuries, but to Xander, and in reality, what was only a few minutes, the turbo lift shuddered to a halt, the doors creaking open loudly. Jysek glanced out nervously, unsure if they had triggered some sort of silent alarm, or if even now a hidden turret was trained on them, counting down the time they had left to enter the pass-code before it opened fire on them.

After several minutes of waiting, and finally realising they were clear to go on, Jysek and Xander stepped out of the lift, the doors slamming shut behind them, as they raised and checked the clips left in their blasters.

Approaching a door shrouded in shadows, Jysek glanced at Xander, who strained, and nodded his head. Jysek rushed over, typing in the pass-code, before dodging over to the side, standing concealed as the door slid open, smooth and quiet, compared to the turbo-lift. Whirling around, Jysek covered the entrance with his blaster as Xander slipped through the door, as quiet as a ghost. Xander halted in front of the inner door, covering it as Jysek slipped in behind him, closing the exterior door silently behind him.

As the interior door slid open, Xander tensed as he heard the click of a blaster cell clicking into place in its barrel. He spun, covering the room, but not quickly enough, as a stun bolt flew out of an adjoining room, slamming into his chest, knocking the breath out of him, as he stumbled and fell to the ground, and into darkness.

Jysek whirled into the room, and cut down the distant figure with a spray of ruby bolts. He rolled to Xander, checking his pulse, before glancing around to check for further enemies. The far door opened, and he fired, killing the first through it, but the second and third got marginally further before he killed them, and the fourth, fifth and sixth made it all the way into the room, converging on him, and firing him full of stun bolts, knocking him, as well, out cold.

Xander Vos

Chapter Seven

** 5 ABY - 6 Months after Xander’s Capture **

Kinyen – Black Haven Base

For months now, Xander had done nothing but kill people, organise clients, and make sure spice operations had gone through correctly for Black Haven. After awaking from his injury, he had been forced into service, with the knowledge that their craft had been tracked down and sold for parts.

Jysek had been coping a lot better than Xander. With his added muscle, that Xander, now approaching thirteen, was only now getting, Jysek had been put to work as a bouncer for the base after the security alert that had been Xander and Jysek’s intrusion.

Xander sat in his meagre quarters, quivering, the frightened gaze of the woman he had just killed under the watchful gaze of Torga Rand, the Black Haven’s lieutenant, would haunt him to his death day. She had pleaded and cajoled him, but he had been forced to kill her for not paying her protection fee.

“Are you ok?” Jysek said quietly, walking into the room, and placing a comforting arm around his friend, trying to stop him shaking so.

“I... I killed her,” Xander said, trying hard to hold back the tears of shame he could feel were welling behind his eyes. He reached out a hand to push his friend away, and was shocked to see how much it was shaking.

“We need to get out of here,” Jysek said, glancing around. “Just yesterday I managed to grab a Disrupter Rifle off one of the other guards before they noticed anything. If they have personal shields, they’ll stand no chance against the weapon. I’ll try and pinch you one tomorrow, but until then hang tight. If anything, I need you to find launch codes for a craft, and a flight chart.”

Xander nodded aimlessly, having taken in every word Jysek had said, but unable to respond, knowing as soon as he spoke, the tears would come, his throat already choked up with emotion. Jysek gave him one last pat before standing and moving to his own quarters before they attracted unwanted attention from the other guards.

Kinyen – Surface

Vikro moved like a shadow, darting between buildings, his lightsaber deftly concealed in his robe. Even the slightest hint that he was a Jedi would have Black Haven swarming on him, overwhelming him, and he would be dead before he knew it.

Walking quietly down an alley, he heard a muted sobbing, and on closer inspection, discovered a Devaronian, reduced to a quivering mass, in the shadows of the alley.

“Are you alright, friend?” The Jedi Master asked, softly, examining the man for any sign of physical injury. He was shocked to discover that this Devaronian was a member of Black Haven, the group he was trying to find.

The Devaronian muttered quickly in an incomprehensible tongue that wasn’t Devaronian or Basic, to Vikro’s best knowledge. He caught some words, like “boy” and “Jedi” and knew, with a shiver down his spine, that he had found his first physical link to the boy he had been seeing in his visions for years.

“Which way did he go?” Vikro inquired, his hazel eyes emphatically searching the quivering Devaronian’s face. Whatever this boy had done, whether wittingly or not, had reduced the Devaronian to the mind of a child, a powerful Dark Side ability.

Another string of garble, in which Vikro was able to catch, barely, the words “2B” “Lower Levels” “Fourth District” “Safe House”, before the Devaronian collapsed, the strain on his mind to great, as he fell into unconsciousness. Vikro propped him up, and covered him in his cloak, before slowly standing.

“By the Force boy, you need to be stopped before you do any more damage,” he muttered, as he walked swiftly to the Fourth District, taking a creaking turbo lift to level 2B.

As the doors creaked open, he saw several guards snap to attention, bringing their rifles up. Vikro chuckled and walked jauntily towards them, acting to the guards as if he were an arrogant upper class merchant.

“State your business here stranger,” one of them, a young man said. Vikro could sense through the Force, strangely, that the boy was afraid of him, and wanted to be anywhere but there.

“I wish to speak with your leader,” Vikro said, gently, knowing full well that this boy had gotten into something over his head, and that he didn’t deserve to face the crimes that the rest of the gang inevitably would.

“Name?” The other guard said, walking over to glare down at Vikro.

“Vikro,” Vikro answered honestly, “Now, I wish to speak with your leader.” He said, waving his arm smoothly to subtly influence the man through the Force, pressing gently on the man’s brain.

“Of course,” the man said stiffly, turning abruptly to unlock the door, as the second guard, the young boy, turned, and sprinted in ahead of Vikro in a move that looked completely unprofessional.

Kinyen – Black Haven Base

“Quick, Xander, wake up!” Hissed Jysek, roughly pushing the younger boy awake, as he glanced around nervously.

“What is it?” Xander said sleepily, as he slowly sat up in his bed, rubbing the small crusty sleep from his eyes, as he quickly became wide awake.

“A man just arrived, and he looked like trouble. Now’s our chance to escape! Torga has a personal craft ready and primed just a few levels above us for a quick escape in case of trouble. If we can make it to it, we could get out of here. Lets go!” Jysek said, pulling Xander to his feet as he raised the Disruptor Rifle, checking it was properly loaded and charged.

“Alright,” Xander said, nodding fiercely as he pulled his boots on, and slid his blaster pistol out of the hidden compartment in the sole, as Jysek looked on in amazement.

“You never told me you had that! We could have left earlier!”

“I didn’t feel the time was right before,” Xander said, as he primed the blaster, before creeping over to the wall.

Jysek crouched and jogged over to join him. He turned to Xander, and held up three fingers. He closed one, then the other, then clenched his fist closed, and the two darted out, spraying fire into the two nearest guards, before barrel rolling over a desk, and into a private turbo lift, slamming the door shut as return fire slammed into it.

Jysek rapidly punched commands into the control pad, and the lift began to rise, creaking slowly from the strain it had been put under from the laser bolts slamming into its casing. He stood there, staring into the closed door, breathing hard, as it ascended. He turned slightly, to face Xander, and double taked as he saw Xander’s burnt, scorched hands.

Xander stared dumbly at his scarred, disfigured hands, still in shock at how he had, unthinkingly, raised his hands and projected some barrier which blocked the twenty or so blasts that had been fired at them before the lift doors had closed. He had stopped them harming Jysek or himself, but at the cost of his hands. They would be write in a few weeks, but at that moment, they burnt as if he had been plunged into all seven Corellian Hells simultaneously.

“Are you ok?” Jysek breathed, as the lift hurtled up, drawing close to their destination.

“Yeah, fine,” Xander said nodding, breathing in deeply and centering himself as the lift slammed to a stop, and the doors opened to reveal a luxurious YT vessel. Glancing both ways to check for guards, Jysek and Xander sprinted for the craft, ripping off the manual control plate, and slicing into the system to lower the ramp manually, before scampering aboard as it closed behind them moments later.

Jysek rushed to the cockpit, settling himself down heavily, as his fingers flew across the system controls. He breathed a sigh of relief, “We’re lucky, my dad was repairing one of these a few years ago, and he took me into the cockpit and told me how it worked, and how to fix parts when they went haywire. I could probably fly this thing with my eyes closed.”

“Lets not test that theory,” Xander said, as he buckled himself into the co-pilot seat, gripping the armrests tightly as Jysek brought the ship into the air, sending sharp shudders throughout the craft.

“Relax Xander, everything will be fine now,” Jysek said reassuringly.

Suddenly, shield read-outs began flashing, and a loud, warbling siren began rising up and down through the frequency range an average human ear could hear.

“Somehow I don’t believe you,” Xander said, “They’ve got multiple missile locks on us, and several turbo-laser turrets are powering up in the cities west. I’ll take the top turret if you don’t mind.”

“Sure, I’ll try and loose them,” Jysek said, nodding, as he twisted the yoke right, left, and down as he tried to shake the locks. “Missiles launched!” He yelled, “Try to pick them off!”

“Easier said than done,” Xander muttered, from the top turret casing as he spun around, trying to spot the missiles both on the radar and visually. He first spotted them only seconds before the first hit. He managed a snap shot and melted the second and third out of the sky, but the first, a concussion missile, slammed into the Hyperdrive casing, smashing the shield, and damaging the Hyperdrive itself.

“Are you doing anything up there?!” Jysek called out as he fought the controls, spinning the craft as he watched in satisfaction as the fourth and fifth missiles smashed into each other whilst attempting to follow him through the manoeuvre.

“Relax, we’ll make it, only two more left!” Xander called back, as he lined up his sights, sending fiery bolts through one of the two, but watched in despair as his bolts missed the second. He tracked it across the sky, anticipating a sudden drop it made, and finally caught it. “I did it!” he exclaimed, joyfully letting out a cheer.

“We’re not out of this yet, turbo lasers are still ready just out of range, right where we need to go,” Jysek said grimly, as he tried to gain as much altitude as he could, hopefully to remain out of range of the turrets. Almost as soon as he was able to see the turrets visually, he felt smashes against the vehicle, as it shuddered in the air. “Obviously not,” he muttered to himself.

Xander took a deep breath, spinning the turret casing around, and firing three rapid fire shots at the centre turret, and watched in satisfaction as it blossomed a beautiful orange in the setting sun as his shots found their mark.

“Nice shooting for someone who’s only ever practiced in an X-Wing before,” Jysek said, not allowing anything into his voice other than relief that they now had a free shot into space. He had practiced for years, and he was nowhere nearly as good as Xander, who had practiced for only a few weeks.

He flipped a switch by the yoke, and examined a read-out, a frown creasing his forehead as his eyes darted over the figures. “This doesn’t look good,” he said over the comm to Xander.

“Why? What’s wrong?” Xander asked, as he began unbuckling his seat belt in the gunner turret.

“The Hyperdrive has been pretty badly damaged, it’ll take us a few months at least to get even as far as Lorta, and that’s the closest planet with any form of fuelling station. We can’t go back to Kinyen, so its our only choice.”

“Lorta it is then.”

Kinyen – Local Security Forces Headquarters

“Shut up you filthy crim,” an officer said, shoving the last of the Black Haven criminals into their cell, before slamming the door shut and activating the force-field surrounding the eight dangerous men and women who had only hours ago been running a highly successful and illegal base of operations.

“Thanks again,” the man said, turning to Vikro, who stood at the other side of the room, his arms crossed, and barely breathing irregularly after half an hour straight of fighting the leaders of Black Haven. “What did you say your name was?”

“I didn’t. I represent the Phantoms.” Vikro said, turning to leave, as the man gave an audible gasp, “We’re back.”

Personal Craft of Jedi Council Member Vikro

Vikro breathed out, watching as his breath fogged up the transparisteel in his passenger seat. The operation had been successful, but something still puzzled him. The boy he had seen leave his post and race inside had been found no where inside, and there had been filtered reports of Kinyen Security attempting to apprehend to criminals who had stolen a personal freighter craft

In his mind’s eye he raced over the events of the last two days. The Devaronian, distraught and babbling, and a sure sense that the boy had been there. The Black Haven criminals, grumbling about cowardly allies. The boy abandoning his post, and then disappearing. The stolen craft. The sense of familiarity in one of the dormitories in the base.

Suddenly Vikro sat bolt upright. The boy had been in the base. He wasn’t sure if the boy at the post was him or not, but the reports had said two people had stolen the craft, so it may well have been a companion of his.

The boy who had plagued his visions and dreams with darkness. The boy he had desperately been trying to find for the last two years. He had missed him by mere minutes. Vikro breathed out frustratingly, as his pilot pulled out of the atmosphere, lining up to return them to Bakura.

He would find the boy, and bring him to justice for what he had done. He would either be forced to kill the boy as he had his brother, sister-in-law and nephew all those years ago, or bring him to the Temple for training in the Jedi ways, and hope to the Force that none of those incidents ever repeated themselves. Vikro remained deep in thought as his shuttles made the jump to lightspeed, leaving Kinyen far behind.

Xander Vos

Chapter Eight

** 6 ABY **

Xander awoke from a deep sleep to hear the long awaited pinging that indicated they were leaving Hyperspace after four long months of hopping from uninhabited system to uninhabited system. They had lived mostly off supplies in the craft, but occasionally there had been a small out-post, no fuelling or repair stations, in one of the systems recorded as having no planet to sustain life.

As Xander glanced out of his bunk-room, he watched with mild humour as Jysek, only half dressed and desperately pulling on his shirt bolted down the hall, racing for the cockpit. It was well known by all spacers that you never had to pull the lever, and that the safety override pulled a craft out of Hyperspace as soon as it got close enough to a large gravity-mass. It was safer, however, when merely pleasure cruising, to manually cut out of Hyperspace.

As Xander felt the smooth bump that indicated they had pulled out of Hyperspace and into the Lortan system, he made his way at a calm pace into the cockpit to greet Jysek. He watched in feigned seriousness as Jysek bounced around the cockpit, checking read-outs and dials, flipping switches, pushing buttons rapidly, and pulling levers.

“So we’re finally here,” Xander said, yawning and scratching his scalp in contentedness.

“Yeah, and we’ll be lucky if those folks back at Kinyen Security didn’t figure out where we were headed, make the journey in half an hour, and wait in ambush for us. Hopefully they’ll be to preoccupied by the crims that Jedi brought in when we left.”

From the way Jysek immediately shut up, Xander could tell he had said something he hadn’t meant to. “A Jedi? On Kinyen? And you didn’t tell me? Jysek, you know how much I want to become a Jedi like my Grand-Father, why didn’t you tell me?”

Jysek opened his mouth as if to speak, but closed it just as quickly. He turned away from Xander, as if in shame, “Because I know I’ll never be a Jedi, and that as soon as you reach their hide out, you’ll dump me for your Master, then your Apprentice, then another Apprentice, and so on.”

Xander walked over to stand by Jysek, and placed a reassuring hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Jysek, I’ve known you nearly all my life. I would never dismiss you or leave you behind you should know that. Besides, I heard the Jedi Temple employs non-Force Sensitives to work as mechanics and such, so we could still spend plenty of time together.”

Jysek’s face brightened almost immediately, “Really? That would be awesome! Now, the only trouble is finding their Temple. Maybe some locals here will have heard of them.”

“Only one way to see,” Xander said, grinning.

Kroprulu – Military Debriefing Room

“We will launch the attack in little under an hour. It will take possibly twenty galactic standard minutes to reach our target,” Empress Dell said, using a laser pointer on the Galactic map. “Supreme General Crusher shall lead the assault on the planet’s surface, and Grand Admiral Astra’s forces shall attack from space. Lords Astra and Crusher personally, however, shall fight through the streets on the ground. Lord Zero and his Hands are already in place, and shall provide assistance if necessary.”

Crusher and Astra nodded, glancing at each other and grinning like young boys, not the hardened warriors they were. Although Astra was primarily a naval officer, he had asked to help lead the assault on the ground to touch up on his hand-to-hand combat skills that he had let go in the years past.

“Very well my Empress, we are ready to leave as soon as you see fit.” Astra said, bowing before the wise Empress of the Empire. Astra was eager to teach the men serving under him, including a young boy of only thirteen, Lanik.

“Very well, men. Set your course for Lorta.”

Bakura – Jedi Temple

Shatterpoint flowed smoothly over the grass in the outer Temple grounds, taking in the tranquillity of the life surrounding her, and soaking in the radiant warmth of the midday sun.

Suddenly, an invisible cloud seemed to pass over her inner consciousness, and she took a sharp breath.

“What is it?” Her secret husband, Jedi Master Koras said, concern written over his face, as he placed a hand over hers.

“I feel a great disturbance in the Force. Something terrible is going to happen on Lorta. I must leave, immediately.”

“But wait, you can’t go alone, I’ll accompany you. I’m sure we can bring in some aerial support to aide you if this becomes dangerous,” Koras said, turning and speaking rapidly into his comlink, before putting it away again

“It is settled. Four Blockade Runners and eight Corvettes are being diverted to help you. If it is as dangerous as you say and I feel, that may be not enough,” Koras said, his eyes darting over his wife’s concerned features.

“Just having you there for me is more than enough,” Shatterpoint said, smiling gratefully. “Thank you,” she said, leaning over and kissing him on the cheek.

“We must leave at once,” Koras said, rising to his feet immediately, as Shatterpoint rose to follow him.

Lorta – Surface

Two hours later, Xander and Jysek were on the surface, their craft, dubbed the Escapee after their exploits, was being repaired, as they wandered through the city. To replace their lost weapons at Kinyen, Xander and Jysek had each bought a vibroblade and vibrosword, which could reputedly stop even a lightsaber if angled right.

Xander and Jysek had had a few practicing jousts, and were pretty confident that they had mastered the swords as well as could be expected after owning them for less than an hour.

As they sat in a tapcafe, Xander felt a nudge through his slowly developing Force senses that something was wrong. He couldn’t place it, but it felt like a horrible vibration at the back of his teeth, and it felt bad.

He caught a glimpse of three men wondering the other side of the street, their cloaks done up tight, concealing their faces, but Xander caught a sense that they were involved in something bad and big.

He whirled, drawing his vibrosword just as the first explosion went off two blocks away, and the three men drew ruby lightsabers.

As Xander and Jysek raced towards them, Xander realised that one of them was hardly a man, not even as old as Jysek, but that the other two were powerful in the Force, their presences dominating his mind, making him feel minute and worthless.

As they spun towards him, he slashed fiercely, surprised that he heard one of the men grunt and fall back in pain.

“Defeat them Crusher. Show Lanik the true powers of the Dark Side,” he said, as he deactivated his lightsaber, tending to his gaping wound in his side. It would have killed an ordinary man, and the man must have been poorly trained or over confident to have allowed such a costly first strike.

“Lanik, eliminate this fiery youth, I’ll take the older one,” snapped the man Xander assumed must have been Crusher. He gulped as he glanced at the young boy, marching fiercely forward, brandishing his fiery blade.

Lunging forward, Xander pivoted on his right foot, aiming to the boys left, before quickly feinting to the left before placing a strike at the boy’s face. It was like he had known only one of the strikes would ever have hit, and he anticipated the strike precisely, raising his blade, and sending the Vibrosword glancing away, and sending pins and needles shooting through Xander’s wrist.

He stumbled back, momentarily, and leaped forward again, smashing his blade into his opponent’s hoping to defeat him with raw strength, pushing the boy’s blade back, and forcing him back a pace, before disengaging, and striking again, this time to the left.

The boy spun on his feet, blocking the blow, although Xander could see that this deflection wasn’t as easy as the first. He felt a sinking in his stomach as he saw the boy smirk, lift one hand from his lightsaber, and send blue tendrils of agony shooting through Xander’s body.

Xander struggled to remain conscious, gazing coldly into the boy’s face, pushing with his mind, as if will power alone would prevent the attack from draining him of all his energy.

“You have much potential,” Lanik murmured, “Join me. Join the Sith, and we can rule the Galaxy!”

“Never,” Xander said, breathing heavily, as he pushed his vibro-sword back up, watching in satisfaction as the lightning conducted upon its surface, instead of his body, running along it instead.

“Very well, you leave me with no choice,” the boy said, raising his hand. Xander felt the air leave his lungs as he was flung backwards by an invisible force, unable to prevent it.

Xander couldn’t even feel his back smash into the wall as he slid to the ground. Lanik stood over him, gloating. “Now, you will feel the agony of loosing your arms, then legs, and finally your life,” he snarled, slicing down hard with his blade, severing Xander’s left arm. Biting his lip to stifle the scream, Xander felt tears roll down his face, as he heard the boy laugh sadistically above him, and finally the scream tore through his lips, echoing through the streets, as everywhere men, women and children fell to Sith Soldiers.

Near him, he watched foggily as Jysek fought on viciously, pushing Darth Crusher back. With a surge of panic Xander realised the man was toying with Jysek, and, as Jysek parried a blow, watched Crusher disarm him, and hold his lightsaber to Jysek’s throat, speaking words Xander couldn’t hear. As unconsciousness gripped him, Xander heard the haunting sound of another lightsaber igniting, and a flash of purple, and then he heard and felt nothing else.

Xander Vos

Chapter Nine

** 6 ABY **

Lorta – Medical Centre

As Xander opened his eyes shakily, all he could make out were foggy shapes, and what looked like a woman leaning over him, a concerned expression on her face.

“Mum?” He asked groggily as he tried to sit up and look around.

“He’s still in shock,” the woman said, pushing him back down, and turning away to address someone else, “He thinks I’m his mother. Did the prosthetic surgery go as planned?”

That caught Xander’s attention. His eyes snapped open, able to see fine as he sat up again. “Prosthetic? Me? What happened?”

The woman turned back, “The Sith invaded Lorta, the Force knows why, and you and your friend were caught up in it. I managed to save you before one of them killed you, but your entire left arm was lost.”

“Jysek? What happened to him?” Xander asked, glancing around, hoping to catch Jysek napping in another bed, ready to leap up and go on another adventure. With shock he remembered his last memories, Jysek’s disarmament, the ease with which a mere boy had defeated him, and the power Jysek had faced.

The lady bit her lip, looking saddened by the question. “I managed to beat off the Sith and force them to retreat, and Koras destroyed a large portion of their fleet. They won’t bother Lorta for a while.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” Xander said, with a sinking feeling, knowing all too well now what had happened, but needing to hear it.

“Son – what’s your name?”

“Xander.”

“Xander, you survived the attack with vicious wounds, after fighting a Sith Apprentice. Your friend fought a Sith Lord, specially trained in combat fighting. He had no chance. I’m sorry, I did all I could, but he died of grievous injuries in my hands,” she said, turning away as Xander’s bottom lip trembled, as if to give him the dignity of shedding tears with no one to witness the lapse.

“Life goes on. He’s now at peace with himself and the Force,” Xander said softly, repeating the saying his mother had taught him from an early age.

The woman stiffened visibly in the chair, and Xander could feel, even without any use of the Force, her sudden curiosity. “That’s a Jedi saying. How do you know it?”

“My mother was a Jedi. Before I left home, she revealed it to my father and me. I haven’t seem them in a year,” Xander said, letting his head droop.

“My name is Asil Leikane, I am a Jedi Master at a Jedi Academy. If you come with me, I could train you to be a Jedi,” Asil said, under her breath, even though they were alone in the room. “Tell me, what was your mother’s full name? And your father’s?”

“Lysa Sornfree and Korto Vos. Why?” Xander said, feeling a confusion of emotions: immense sadness at his friend’s death, coupled with grief, but also a sense of excitement at the prospect of being a Jedi.

“Sornfree? Vos? They were two of the most famous Jedi of the Old Republic. Sornfree perhaps only amongst the Jedi survivors as a common Jedi who had gone missing to the Clones, but Vos, Quinlan Vos, he was a Jedi Master, a powerful Kiffar Jedi. I assume Korto is his son?”

“Yes, Quinlan was my Grand Father. Are you really a Jedi? Could you train me?” Xander asked, holding his breath in anticipation of the bitter disappointment, that he was almost sure was to come.

“Yes, there is a secret Order on Bakura. I will need to be sure you are Force Sensitive, and then you will need to understand how secretive our Order is. But, of course, we will explain all our laws when you arrive.”

Asil closed her eyes, reaching out in the Force to probe Xander’s presence, “Now,” she said, her eyes closed, “Try to use the Force and expand your presence as much as you can. Basically tense all your muscles and make yourself as big as possible physically, and it should be repeated mentally. Over time you will be able to do it with no physical movements, but only after training.”

“Alright, I’ll try,” Xander said, nodding. He closed his eyes, and followed the instructions Asil had said.

Suddenly Asil gasped, her eyes flying open, “Such power... I had expected much from the son of two powerful Jedi, but this. This rivals many of the Jedi Knights in our Order, and this is unbridled, no training. You will get stronger in time, and that would make you a powerful ally, or a bitter enemy. Let me take you to the temple, give you training, and help you grow in the Force.”

“I would like nothing more than that,” Xander said, “Thank you Asil, this means the world to me, following in the footsteps of my Grand Father and mother.”

“Your perfectly welcome,” Asil said, smiling, “Call me Shatterpoint, everyone does.”

“Ok,” Xander said, struggling to smile, knowing it would be a while before he would ever be able to feel happiness again, “Thank you Shatterpoint.”

“I’ll let you say your fare wells to your friend, and then you can meet me at my ship in Docking Bay 347, he’s in the room downstairs, ask at the desk. The doctors have declared that you’re perfectly fine, so we can leave as soon as you’re ready,” Shatterpoint said, rising and placing a comforting hand on Xander’s shoulder before leaving him.

Xander stared at the wall for a few minutes, finally letting the tears flow. Jysek had been his friend for more than half his life. They had been here merely on a repair objective. Everything had happened so fast, and now he was gone. Gone forever. At least, as his mother had always said, he was now at peace in the Force, and Xander was thankful of that.

He rose, pulling on a shirt hanging on the rack, and a pair of pants, and his boots that rested by the foot of the bed. He holstered the blaster that his father had given to him, and he had used at Black Haven’s main base.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped out of his room, and on to face his destiny.

Lorta – Docking Bay 347

Shatterpoint sat in her ship, meditating on the startling discovery she had made almost by accident. Xander Vos was powerful in the Force, that was for sure, but it was raw talent, and that could prove fatal in his training as it had for so many padawans in the distant past.

He was the son of a Jedi Knight, and the grand son of a Jedi Master, and his power was greater than even Quinlan Vos’ that was for certain, but something was not right in him, and Shatterpoint was worried about it.

Perhaps it was just that his friend had died so suddenly and cruelly, yet another name added to the list of victims to Sith atrocities. Shatterpoint shook her head sadly. The Sith had for long been dormant on their throne world of Kroprulu, but recently they had become much more aggressive and violent. They had to be stopped.

Xander didn’t have the taint of the Dark Side, which she had initially feared because of his battle with the Sith and the death of his friend, but he wasn’t steeped in the light either. He had the feel of one who had joined the Grey Order, although she knew that was impossible. However, he did have some Force techniques, and had demonstrated the ability to expose himself to the Force, so Shatterpoint did wonder.

She moved to push the button that would extend the ramp, as she felt Xander’s presence enter the docking bay, before standing and moving into the pilot’s chair. A few minutes later, she heard Xander behind her, enter the cockpit as well, and sit down heavily in the co-pilot’s chair.

“Where is the Order again?” Xander said, clearly having forgotten, or not having absorbed it after the news of his friend’s death.

“Bakura, so its not far away,” Shatterpoint answered, keying in a request for lift off.

“Bakura...” Xander said thoughtfully, “It’s almost as if the Force wanted me to go there.”

“Why do you say that?” Shatterpoint asked, lifting off as the light on the console blinked green.

“Jysek-“ Xander stopped, swallowing hard, “Jysek and I were trying to take out Black Haven, which took us to Kinyen, and then from there to Lorta, which, if you take into account our starting on Tatooine, has moved us closer and closer to Bakura.”

“What did you say? You took on Black Haven?”

“Yeah,” Xander said, smiling ruefully, “It didn’t turn out too well, they captured us and forced us to work for them. We only just escaped before someone managed to defeat them for us.”

“Vikro...” Shatterpoint murmured, deep in thought.

“What did you say?” Xander asked curiously.

“Nothing, never mind,” Shatterpoint said, moving the ship into position, before easing the Hyperspace lever back, sending them hurtling into Hyperspace. “Get some rest, you’ve had a rough journey.”

Xander Vos

Chapter Ten

**6 ABY**

Bakura – Outer Atmosphere

Xander yawned and stretched as he rubbed his eyes blearily, staring down at Bakura, hanging in space as if suspended by the gods. Only minutes ago Shatterpoint had awoken him from his slumber, telling him they were almost there. She was speaking quietly into the comm unit, doubtlessly clearing their passage with the Bakuran government.

Moments later, the ship cruised down, cutting through the clouds, and cruising down towards one of the main cities on Bakura. From there the craft glided towards the outskirts of the city, and then up into a densely forested area.

“How do you make sure you don’t crash?” Xander asked, gripping his seat as Shatterpoint flew them through the trees, her eyes half closed, not hitting a single branch.

“The Force guides me. It’s one of the preliminary tests. If a pilot can’t even navigate the forest, they shouldn’t deserve to find our Temple,” Shatterpoint said. “Now, watch out, we’re almost there.”

Xander leaned forward in his seat, gazing excitedly out the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of the Temple. As they reached a large clearing, Xander saw it. The Temple rose majestically above the tree-line, the curving arches shone brilliantly in the rising sun. The Temple itself was large, covering hundreds of square meters. The clearing was obviously artificially made, and a Docking Bay sat off to the side.

As the craft came to rest on auto-pilot, Shatterpoint went to her private room to fetch her lightsaber and cloak, while Xander gathered his meagre possessions, now one greater with the addition of Jysek’s vibroblade. As he walked down the ramp, and out towards the Temple, Xander reflected for a moment, upon his journey. He and Jysek had been through so much together, and now he was alone. The only companion he had who he could trust was Shatterpoint, but he didn’t know her very well.

He had heard rumours through the years that the Jedi Knights of old were stuck up and snobbish. He hoped they weren’t true. He hoped to make many friends here, and that he would be welcomed. He took a deep breath, and stepped into the Temple, a step behind Shatterpoint.

Jedi Temple – Council Chambers

“Xander Vos is the grand son of Quinlan Vos, and the son of Jedi Knight Lysa Sornfree,” Shatterpoint said.

“Where is he now?” Abba said, intrigued by this new arrival.

“He is wondering the Temple, aquatinting himself with the other Padawans and Initiates here,” Shatterpoint said.

“We will need to interview him soon, if he is to become an Apprentice here,” Vikro said, feeling something strange about this boy. He hadn’t seen him yet, but he knew there was something... different about him, something familiar.

“The Force has brought him here, that much is certain,” Shatterpoint said, “But I feel a darkness about him. If not trained properly, he could be a deadly enemy. I suggest a Council Member train him, not a normal Master.”

“Agreed,” Rive said, “When we interview him, we can decide then who will train him in the ways of the Force.”

“I wish to speak to him privately, first,” Vikro said, thoughtfully.

“No problem. Why is that, if I may ask?” Abba said.

“I sense something familiar about the boy. It may be nothing. It may be something as simple as the fact we were both born on Tatooine, or it may be something more.”

“It seems a lot of us were born on Tatooine,” Abba joked, but turned sombre, “Yes, I understand what you mean. That shouldn’t be a problem. As Shatterpoint said, he will most probably be in the Padawan Quarters, or in the Training Facility, so look for him there.”

“I will,” Vikro said, standing to leave, “I will return with him.”

“Very well, may the Force be with you,” Rive said, saying the customary farewell rite.

“And with you,” Vikro said, returning the message, before turning and leaving.

Jedi Temple – Padawan Quarters

Xander held his breath in awe as he trode softly through the corridors of lavish living quarters. He had never seen such lavish sleeping areas in his life, though he could tell many would consider this plain. After growing up on a planet where it was always dusty and sandy, and your bed was made of an itchy wool, this place looked like heaven.

“What are you doing here?” A sharp, suspicious voice said.

Xander whirled around, startled. Before him stood a boy, who looked to be only about four or five, maybe six years older than him. He had dirty blonde hair, with the front spiked up. His eyes were light brown, with tinges of yellow in them, and he was just barely taller than Xander himself.

“Who are you?” Xander blurted out.

“I am Lyn Korak. This is my home. I asked you a question, what are you doing here?” The boy, nearly a man, said, his eyes piercing through Xander, as if he could see into his soul.

“I’m Xander Vos, I’m to be a trained as a Jedi, if the Council lets me. This is all yours?”

The sharp look in Lyn’s eyes vanished, and the pursed lips smoothed into a grin. “No, this is where all the Apprentices sleep. If you’re to be a Jedi, you can sleep in my room, I’ve got a spare bunk ever since Urwen became a Knight.”

“Thanks, that’d be great,” Xander said gratefully, glad he had already made a friend. “So maybe you could show me around?”

“Sure,” said Lyn, “I just finished a training session with my Master, Kavar, so I guess I’ve got a bit of free time.”

“Padawan Korak,” came a sharp voice from behind them. Lyn turned and gulped.

“Master Vikro, I didn’t see you sir,” Lyn said, bowing stiffly to the older man. Xander looked from man to boy, not sure what was going on. Then Vikro broke the silence with a chuckle. “I’ll never get over your bow, it looks so awkward and unnatural. I need to have a word with Xander alone, if you don’t mind. Kavar wants to discuss your next mission, so run along.”

“Of course Vikro,” Lyn said grinning, and jogging off, his robe flapping behind him.

“Xander,” Vikro said, then stopped, his eyes widening. He took a step back, as if afraid of the boy in front of him.

“Master Vikro?” Xander said, assuming that was this man’s name, taking a step forward, “Are you alright?”

“You – its you,” Vikro said, shakily.

“Me?” Xander said, confused.

“The boy from my visions, the boy who rendered the Devaronian on Kinyen dumb, the boy I have been searching for, for so long. Here, now, walked into my arms,” Vikro said, clearly heavily surprised.

“Your visions? What are you talking about?” Xander said, putting a reassuring hand on Vikro’s arm, and feeling him tense up.

“For years now I have had visions of you, a boy with a white aura,” seeing Xander’s confused expression, he hastened to explain, “Normally in visions that means you are neither tainted with evil or soaked in the purity of light. You are neutral, as if you could go either way at the slightest suggestion. I have been trying to find you to train you as a Jedi, so as not to allow the former occur, I just missed you on Kinyen, though I believe your friend saw me.”

“My friend, is...” Xander gulped, “He died, on Lorta. The Sith invasion, Shatterpoint and someone called Koras stopped them.”

“I am sorry to hear that. Koras is another Council Member, and I am grateful to hear you survived such a vicious and unexpected attack. We must thank the Force that Shatterpoint had the vision that she did.”

“That was something I was meaning to ask,” Xander said.

“Oh?”

“The Force seems to have guided me here from my birthplace on Tatooine. I feel as if the Force wants me to become a Jedi. That’s why it warned Shatterpoint of my danger, and that’s why you never found me before now. I needed to go through those struggles, to let go of all my attachments, and to come here free and pure.”

Vikro faltered for a moment, astounded at the boy’s maturity for someone who seemed to only be about twelve. “The Council wishes to speak with you,” he said softly, “I think we should heed to their request.”

“Of course, Master,” Xander said, “Lead the way.”

Jedi Temple – Council Chambers

“Xander Vos, what brings you to our Temple?” Rive said, looking at the boy standing in the middle of the ornate room.

“The Force, sir,” Xander said, truthfully.

“Oh?”

“I was born on Tatooine, to my father, Korto Vos, and my mother Lysa Sornfree. You may have heard of them. From there, my friend, Jysek, and I travelled through what we thought was a seemingly random set of planets, but now knowing the coordinates of this Temple, I know it was nothing but the Force that led us to each of those worlds, drawing us closer and closer to what I believe to be my destiny.”

Seemingly at a loss for words, Rive turned to glance at Abba, who cleared her throat.

“We believe it was the Force as well, young one. We have felt your potential, and feel it wise that you be trained in the Force.”

Xander breathed in, in excitement, but held his tongue, waiting for her to finish.

“We believe you deserve a strong master, and shall deliberate further on who he or she is to be. Thank you Xander, that is all.”

Xander bowed before the Council before turning and leaving, all in silence, so as to prove further to them his discipline and want to become a Jedi Knight.

As the door slid shut behind him, Vikro waited a moment, to make sure he was out of ear shot, and then spoke. “I believe I should train the boy,” he said.

“Why is that, Vikro?” Koras said, speaking for the first time.

“He is strong in the Force, and needs a powerful Master, as we have agreed upon,” Vikro said.

“That is not what I asked, and you know it,” Koras said, a gentle smile playing across his graceful features.

“He is the boy from my visions,” Vikro said.

“Are you sure?” Rive said, curiosity getting the better of manners.

“As sure as I could be.”

“Very well then. Given the extenuating circumstances, I call for a vote for Jedi Master Vikro to take Jedi Initiate Xander Vos as his Padawan Learner until he, and only he deems Xander Vos ready to take the Trials of the Jedi,” said Rive, “All those who approve.”

At that the room filled with assorted “Ayes”.

“All those who disapprove.”

The room was silent.

“Very well, Vikro’s Apprentice, Xander Vos shall be, after his preliminary training under a Jedi Historian, and may the Force be with them both.”

Xander Vos

Chapter Eleven

**6 ABY – One month after Xander is accepted into the Jedi Order**

Jedi Temple – Jedi Archive Classrooms

Xander typed notes into his datapad furiously as his mentor, Jedi Historian Obi-Tyler, poured out information on the Coruscanti Order from the time of its birth to its death at the hands of Darth Vader.

“The Jedi Order once numbered over ten thousand individuals, ranging from Devaronians to Trandoshans, though all were accepted without fail. The Jedi Order strived to maintain peace and prosperity in the Republic, and were known as the Guardians of the Republic for over a thousand generations. Then, in the waning weeks of the Clone Wars, Supreme Chancellor Palpatine deemed the Jedi to be traitors of the Republic, after an apparent foiled assassination attempt. The Clone Troopers who had served loyally under the Jedi Knights and Masters turned on them. None survived. The Jedi Temple-”

“Excuse me sir,” Xander said, raising his hand to staunch the flow of information.

“Yes, Xander?”

“Some did survive. One that I know of at least,” he said, almost embarrassed to have stopped the fascinating lecture.

“Ah, of course. How clumsy of me to forgotten whilst lecturing her own sun. Lysa Sornfree, serving on Maridun for nearly the entire war, was one of the most widely known survivors. Darth Vader and the new Emperor Palpatine continued to assure worried individuals who were concerned she may attack them, that she was dead. However, claims of her survival came from many back water worlds, and Darth Vader dutifully followed up nearly every single one. However, she was never found, and rebels against the Empire’s tyranny began to call her case the Sornfree Myth.

“Now, where was I, ah, yes. The Jedi Temple, which had stood for over fifty thousand years, and still stands, was the main focal pointy of Jedi support on Coruscant, and very nearly the entire Core. Shortly after the Clone betrayal, Darth Vader marched on what many speculate was once his home, killing all Jedi who lay within. Only one is rumoured to have survived, Shaak Ti, a Togrutan Jedi Council Member, not unlike our own Koras. She was reported dead twice during what is now known as the Days of Death. Once at the hands of General Greivous, the Jedi slayer, and the other at Darth Vader’s hands. However, people who claim to have insider information claim that Darth Vader, whilst on the look out for your mother, was also interested in the location of Shaak Ti, for one so powerful could prove a dangerous rallying point for your enemies.”

Catching up to Obi-Tyler, Xander dared pause and ask a question, “If the Emperor hated the Jedi so much, and the Clone Army turned on them, then how did so many survive?”

“I wouldn’t call it many,” Obi-Tyler said, chuckling, “At most I would estimate perhaps twenty could have survived, give or take a few. Now, put that figure up against the ten thousand Jedi that were in the Order at the start of the war. That’s, by my calculations, only a fifth of a percent, and the Galaxy is a big place for twenty Jedi to hide. Some may have assumed new identities, some may even have begun working in the Empire, to topple it from the inside, I can only guess, but I believe my point is proven.

“Now, our Order has a much different history. Many amongst us debate whether the Jedi Order was created by Golte and Feleah on Bespin, in the years after Freedon Nadd’s death, or by Cion and Elitha on Bakura, around the time Naboo was colonised, where we now preside. Golte and Feleah created a Jedi Order separate from the main Order, much as others did on Corellia, and other worlds. However, during the Hyabb-Twith Campaigns, two Jedi, a husband and wife, were separated from the main group of Jedi, their ship damaged beyond control. Making it to Bespin, they begin what will become our Jedi Order. They were Feleah and Golte. Now, I’ll tell you a little secret,” Obi-Tyler said, leaning in, his eyes twinkling.

“What, Master?” Xander said, pausing in his typing.

“Do you know of the Kroprulan Sith? The ones who attacked you? They are ruled by the Zavian line, which started in Atalia Zaviar, who was born on Bespin, to Feleah and Golte.”

“So, our Orders are linked?” Xander said, almost speechless.

Obi-Tyler chuckled, “Yes, it’s a small world, isn’t it?” He said, grinning, “After their first child was born, they began to train her in the ways of the Jedi, until, ten years after her birth, the Order is attacked by unknown forces; possibly advance Sith, or pirates, we have never been able to trace the attack. Feleah and Golte tried to escape with their daughter in their craft, but fell into a coma, and their ship began to drift. There they remained for ten years, their craft supplying them with nutrients as soon as it detected the three of them as unconscious; one of the bonus features of craft then,” Obi-Tyler said, grinning, “They awoke ten years later, still in orbit around Bespin, and learnt of the Order’s destruction. They planned to return to Coruscant after exploring the Galaxy and showing it to their daughter, teaching her how to fly a craft. Obviously they didn’t know how to use it very well, as both they and their daughter crashed such craft only five years later; Feleah and Golte on Bakura, and Atalia on Kroprulu, where she founded her Empire.

“Feleah and Golte, who had stored all their knowledge in holocrons before they travelled to the Outer Rim, and Bakura, where they perished in one of the barren regions of the planet, already weakened from their coma and lack of good nourishment. Seventy-five years later, the barren region has slowly gained moisture, and is a sapling forest, and a colony has settled near it. Two Force Sensitive beings, Cion and Elitha came across the Holocrons, where they began to study the knowledge they contained. Slowly, over forty five years, they built a Jedi Temple based on the blue prints of the Bespin Temple. Cion and Elitha then married, and had a child, Athin, who was the first trainee of our order. The colony near the Holocron grew into one of the main cities of Bakura,” Obi-Tyler said.
“The Jedi implemented a Council, much like the main Jedi Temple on Coruscant once had. A great enemy of the Jedi Order, Trask, returned nearly thirty years ago, and killed the entire Council. It was a disastrous day for the Jedi. Only Grand Master Nalrix survived the attack. He trained his Apprentice Abba well in the Force and, on his deathbed, named her the new Grand Master. For a year Abba sat on the Council alone, until Masters Rive, Shatterpoint and Vikro joined the Council. From there, Jedi Master Koras joined a year later, to form the Council we now have.

“Now, get some rest. Tomorrow we will begin work on constructing your lightsaber. If you are to become Vikro’s Apprentice, you will need to be strong with such a weapon.”

“Thank you Master,” Xander said, dutifully, “I shall rest well tonight for tomorrow’s lesson.”

Jedi Temple – Construction Chambers

“The crystal, is the heart of the blade,” Obi-Tyler said, watching on as Xander began to construct what would become his lightsaber, “The heart, is the crystal of the Jedi. The Jedi is the crystal of the Force. The Force is the blade of the heart. All are intertwined. The crystal, the blade, the Jedi,”

Xander focussed on the lightsaber parts before him as Obi-Tyler recited the ancient mantra, drawing the parts together using the Force. Over the past month Obi-Tyler and he had been travelling here, constructing each part separately, and now Xander was ready to create the lightsaber itself. He drew the crystal into the air using the Force, bringing the focussing lenses around it, and sealing them shut. The body of the light saber, fitted with the correct parts already, split, and fit snug around the focussing lenses, and sealed shut. The two parts welded together instantly, the seam lost forever. His lightsaber was complete.

“You are one,” Obi-Tyler finished, “Now, your preliminary training is complete, Xander Vos. You are ready to become an Apprentice.”

“Thank you Master Obi-Tyler, you have taught me well,” Xander said, igniting his emerald blade in excitement. He was now truly a Jedi, and his parents would be proud.

Obi-Tyler smiled, and placed a hand on Xander’s shoulder, the real one, “No, thank you. You have been the first Jedi Initiate I have educated, and it has been a truly wonderful experience. I hope we can be friends on par, and not as a Master and a Knight, as I am sure you will become.”

“Thank you, that would be truly wonderful,” Xander said, smiling at the Jedi Historian.

“If I may ask,” Obi-Tyler put forward tentatively.

“Of course, Master, you may ask me anything,” Xander said.

“What Form do you seem to prefer? I mean, over all, which seems tailored to your desires the most?”

“Most probably either Makashi or Ataru,” Xander said, thinking hard, “Makashi would provide me with a grace I strive to perfect, but requires a precision that I lack. Ataru, on the other hand, is mainly athletic, which I am well prepared for, and contains little disadvantages for me and my style. Yes, I believe I will choose to learn Ataru, when the time comes, Master.”

“Thank you, Xander, may the Force be with you,” Obi-Tyler said.

“And with you, Obi-Tyler,” Xander said, smiling.

Jedi Temple – Council Chambers

“The Jedi Council will recognise the Apprenticeship of Xander Vos to Jedi Council Member Vikro, as of this moment until Jedi Apprentice Xander Vos’ trials,” announced Shatterpoint, standing at her seat, facing Vikro and Xander Vos who stood in the middle of the room.

For Vikro it felt odd to view the Council as the other Jedi did, and not from his now-vacant seat between Koras and Rive. But he felt reassured nonetheless to be standing by the side of the boy who would be his Apprentice for the next decade at least. He put a hand on Xander’s shoulder, the boy turning and glancing up at the older man, grinning.

“Thank you, Masters,” Xander said, “I promise to serve the Jedi Order well, to learn all that I can and more from Vikro, and most of all to remain loyal to this Order until all breath leaves my lungs.”

“Very well, congratulations Vikro, congratulations Xander Vos, your Apprenticeship to Vikro has begun. We shall have a mission for you as soon as one emerges,” Abba said, smiling at the two, pleased to see that all had gone to plan and that the boy knew the importance of the Order and its secrecy. Obi-Tyler had taught him their history well. She was pleased with Obi-Tyler, who was showing immense progress after his first two Padawans had fallen to the Dark Side, joining countless others at Empress Dell’s Empire. She glanced at the other Council Members, in case they had anything to add.

No one spoke for a moment, and then the silky tone of Koras filled the gap, spilling forth. “Xander Vos, ever since I first saw you, unconscious after the Sith attack on Loorta and your friend’s death, I knew there were great things in store for you. The power you have inherited should never be taken lightly, and that I must impress upon you with the utmost importance. No doubt Obi-Tyler has told you of the countless Jedi Padawans who have desired more power, traversing the thin line between darkness and light with arrogance. Vikro has told us of your actions on Kinyen, and how you felt about them, and I hope you keep that feeling in mind if ever you feel the seductive pull of the Dark Side.”

“I will, Master Koras,” Xander said solemnly, nodding his head in the Togruta’s direction, “Thank you, I will not forget that.”

“Then may the Force be with you all,” Vikro said, motioning for Xander to lead the way out of the room, and towards the Apprenticeship which would be known through the Temple for decades to come as one of the most famous of them all.

Xander Vos

Chapter Twelve

**6 ABY – 3 Months After Xander is accepted into the Order**

Jedi Temple – Sparring Chambers

Xander concentrated on the glow of his lightsaber, the sweat on his face gleaming, as he struggled to remain upright. Vikro watched him from four paces away, his breathing still regular, and no sign that he had spent the last hour duelling Xander.

Xander stumbled momentarily, pressing his back against the wall to take a deep breath. Suddenly, without warning, Vikro dove towards him, lightsaber pointed at Xander’s heart, the blue blade cutting through the air viciously.

Xander ducked under the blade, weaving so that he ended up behind Vikro’s back, and swung hard at Vikro’s unprotected skull. Vikro whirled, disarming Xander in an instant, and tapping him gently on the neck with his blade to signify the end of the duel.

“Very impressive,” Vikro said, smiling, “For one who has just begun, you show great potential in the art of Ataru.”

“Thank you Master, I have been practising every night,” Xander said, smiling gratefully.

“Come, young one, I believe the Council has a mission for us,” Vikro said, motioning to the door to the sparring chambers. Xander summoned his lightsaber back to him, and clipped it to his belt, the lightsaber staying a moment longer than would be usual in Xander’s left arm, and Xander felt a twinge of sadness as he was again reminded of the disaster on Lorta, and what had led to his left arm being severed by a Sith.

All around the pair, other students parried with their Masters. Here and there, Nautolans trained with Kel Dors, Devaronians with Mon Calamari, the variation in species in the Temple brought about a sense of peace and tranquillity, everyone knowing that their place in the Jedi Temple was assured.

The doors to the Council chambers hissed open, and Abba stopped speaking. Xander had a sinking feeling they had been talking about him, and from the looks many of them were giving him, it didn’t seem to have been about anything good.

“Xander, we have watched your progress over the last two months, and are quite pleased with how you are adapting to this change in your environment. However, some grave concerns about your... family... have been brought before us that needs to be addressed,” Rive said.

“What do you mean?” Xander asked with confusion, “My Mother was a Jedi Knight, my Grand Father a Jedi Master, the Force-“

“Yes, that’s the problem,” Koras interjected smoothly, “You don’t know your family history very well, do you?”

“Well, no, not really,” Xander admitted, gazing at his shoes, partially embarrassed that they seemed to know more about his family than he did.

“Quinlan Vos was a great Jedi Master in the times of the Clone Wars. Early in the conflict, he was sent into Count Dooku’s forces as a Double Agent for the Jedi Council. However, to prove his loyalty, he had to commit terrible acts, and in dark moments the Coruscanti Council believed he had become a Triple Agent. Towards the end of the war, Quinlan seemed to embrace the dark all together, cutting off all ties with the Jedi, and siding with Dooku. Only at the very end, in the dying months of the war, did he assume his correct place on the Jedi side,” Abba said.

Xander opened his mouth, as if to speak, and then closed it again, unsure of what to say. He had never known that his Grand Father had, at one point been a... a... Dark Jedi. The Council had always reacted to the news that he was Quinlan Vos’ grandson with great surprise, yes, but excitement as well.

“What does this mean?” He ventured forth.

“We are sending you and Vikro on a mission. It seems a new General has taken command of the Sith Forces, a General Revenous. Recent reports have suggested he has attacked Naboo, and indeed our communications to the planet have been lost. We need you and Vikro to travel there and assuage the situation,” Shatterpoint said.

Vikro stepped forward, speaking for the first time, “What if the Sith forces are still on the planet? It could prove quite dangerous. It is Xander’s first mission, and to expose him to such danger could be quite... well... dangerous.”

“The Council has made its decision. Whilst reports indicate there was an attack on Naboo, no information suggests the Sith remained on planet. These are grave times,” Rive said, leaning forward in his chair, “The Sith have attacked several planets in the Outer and Inner Rims, and before long they could attack Bakura itself. The Dark Side clouds their ambitions. Tread carefully, and may the Force be with you.”

“And you,” Xander and Vikro said simultaneously, bowing, and turning, and leaving the room.

Jedi Temple - Padawan Quarters

“So its some kind of big mission, huh?” Lyn asked as he watched Xander hastily stuff belongings into his bag.

“That’s all they said. Naboo has been attacked by the Sith, and we have to check for survivors and help people get back on their feet. The Council doesn’t believe the Sith will still be there, but Vikro has his own opinion on the matter,” Xander said, pulling on his boots.

“I wish I could go with you,” Lyn sighed despondently, “The most fun Kavar and I have had is checking on some locals who had trouble with a speeder.”

Xander laughed, “Don’t worry, I’m sure your time will come. In fact, they probably only gave us this mission because of my status, if you know what I mean.”

Lyn nodded. Word had spread like wildfire around the Temple that the Grand-Son of Quinlan Vos was being trained by Vikro, who was somewhat of a hero amongst the Padawans. Rumours of his past adventures were whispered furtively over lunches, and, amongst the more far-fetched of them, people claimed he had died twice only to rise from the dead. Xander had quickly become initiated in Padawan customs, making many friends with Lyn’s help, ranging from Krasin Lyell, to Urwen, who he had much of from Lyn, who had bunked with him before his promotion.

“Well, anyway, I hope you make it back in one piece, I don’t want to feel like I’ve been here so long – having had to have gone through at least three room-mates,” Lyn said grinning.

“I’ll try and keep that in mind,” Xander said, rising and clapping Lyn on the back. Over the last couple of months, he had formed a bond of sorts with Lyn. Nothing that could ever replace what he and Jysek had shared, but still, something that he would enjoy getting used to. The two had talked quite a bit, and Lyn had helped Xander learn his way around the Temple, and to get to know everyone.

But now his childhood had ended, and Xander Vos would become a man.

Naboo – Keren Destroyed Starport

“The entire town has been destroyed, barely anyone survived,” Xander said, to Vikro, shaken at the sight. The two Jedi had landed in Keren to find a blazing trail of destruction. Men, women and children lay slaughtered, the typical lightsaber marks marking the work of Sith. “This used to be beautiful, the city stretching into the horizon, the sun would glisten as it struck the dewy grass on the plains, and the waterfall was a beautiful symphony of nature,” Xander said with sadness, gazing at the city now, chunks of the ground blown away by orbital bombardment, and much of the hills collapsed.

“You’ve been here before?” Vikro asked, surprised.

“Yes, Master I came here when I-“ Xander broke off, his eyes widening in realisation. “No!” He turned, and sprinted in the direction of the mountain range, putting on a burst of speed aided by the Force.

“Xander, wait!” Vikro roared, turning and chasing after him, but Xander already had a sizeable lead, and was much faster naturally than Vikro let alone with the Force.

Naboo – Keren Mountains

Xander stood in the entrance to his Grand-Mother’s grave, speechless to the atrocities he saw. The grave was all but destroyed, lightsaber carvings had sliced through the cave walls, collapsing the back of the cave. It stank of urine, and Xander reeled in disgust at other atrocities the Sith had committed that he would not name.

“No!” He shouted, furious at the Sith, and for what they had done. He drew his lightsaber, igniting it and swinging it madly into a tree on the outcrop of the mountain, just out side the cave. The tree gave way, tumbling over the edge and into the smoggy depths below.

“Xander?” Vikro asked, breathing heavily as he finally caught up to his Apprentice.

Xander whirled, lashing out at Vikro, unable to recognise him as an ally, only seeing red in his anger. Vikro countered, drawing his lightsaber and blocking Xander’s strike. In a swift move he disarmed his Apprentice, catching the deactivated lightsaber in his left hand, and putting both on his belt.

Xander launched himself at Vikro, battering the man’s chest with his fists, though doing no real damage. He begun to sob, his deep breaths racking his frame.

“Why?” he asked, sobbing into Vikro’s chest.

“Xander, you used the Dark Side, just as the Council believed you would, you must be careful. This is why the Old Republic took its Jedi Padawans at a young age, and didn’t allow attachments. You must learn to accept, and let go of your pain. Your Grand Mother died long ago, her bones are dust. All they have destroyed is material memories of her, when all that really matters is that you know that she has gone to the Force.”

Xander took a deep breath, and nodded, “You’re right Master. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do what I did, its just, I got so angry, and I needed to lash out, and there was this power, just waiting there, almost begging me to use it.”

“Never give in to that again,” Vikro said sharply, “That path leads to the Dark Side. It is quicker and easier than the path we traverse, but once you travel down it, you can never pull away.”

Xander Vos

Chapter Thirteen

**11 ABY**

Jedi Temple – Construction Chambers

Five years had passed. Five long, gruelling years had come and gone. Xander stood in the same spot he had five years ago, when he had been young, when he had been naive. He focussed intently on the assembled parts before him, that would become his final lightsaber.

The parts fit together perfectly, the lightsaber ending at a point which he could use as a blunt weapon if need be, his training with Black Haven having taught him more than enough on how to use such weapons. The black casing was accentuated by a golden spine and silver clasp, which ended in a magnetic clip, which he could clip to his belt more easily than his old, training lightsaber. Recently the Jedi Council had released to him a blue print of what they believed to be one of Quinlan Vos’ later lightsabers. This lightsaber had been modelled off his through grip and colour, although Xander’s was a much darker green than the traditional green.

Xander felt the connection flare between him and his blade as the final pieces slotted into place, the blade more an extension of his being now than a mere tool or weapon, as outsiders perceived it to be. He ignited his blade, feeling the light weight in his hand as the powerful blade hummed into existence. He swung it around experimentally, feeling the power of the blade, and smelling the burnt ozone in the air.

He deactivated the blade, clipping it to his waist, and turned, to face his Master, Vikro. “Care to test the blade in a duel, Master?” He asked, a grin hovering on his face.

“Of course,” Vikro said, “I’ll try hard not to let you lose so easily this time.”

Jedi Temple – Sparring Chambers

Xander paced restlessly around the ring, staring at his Master, daring him to make the first move. Both held their blades at the ready, Vikro’s a piercing blue, Xander’s a dark emerald, both casting eerie shadows in the near darkness, a setting Vikro had applied specifically for this duel. Both lightsabers were set to stun, the aim to strike the opponent gently in the head, to signify the end of the duel.

Vikro leapt forward, pressing a blow down hard towards Xander’s head. Xander leapt to the side, ducking and rolling to avoid the blow. Vikro steadied himself just before he hit the ground, turning and regrouping with not the slightest sign of the attack he had just performed.

Sinking into the form that he was slowly mastering, Xander bent his legs and pushed off from the ground, performing a series of flips and strikes aimed at multiple parts of Vikro’s body. Xander stopped after several minutes, also regrouping from his manoeuvres that Vikro had calmly blocked. He too showed no sign of the complex manoeuvres.

The two paused for a second, the second passing by like an eternity, and then the two rushed each other, their blades meeting in a ferocious roar as they both put their entire strength behind the blow. Neither used the Force as if by an unspoken agreement. The first few probing spars in the match were to be completely physical. Only then would they begin to use the Force in the form of pushes, pulls, and throws.

“You’ve grown strong in the Force Xander,” Vikro said, smiling with pride at his Apprentice, “I am proud of you.” He stepped into his customary Djem So stance, waiting for Xander. He held his lightsaber loosely in one hand, the other hanging by his side in a casual manner.

Xander launched himself again at Vikro, who raised his lightsaber and blocked Xander’s two-handed strike with only one hand, although he was forced back a step. Xander feinted to the left, before striking a blow to Vikro’s shoulder which paralysed it momentarily.

Vikro grasped his lightsaber with both hands, launching himself with the ferocity of a meteor shower, pushing back Xander with brute strength. The two battled on in this manner for what seemed to be hours, the sweat pouring from them in waves.

“You are a good Master Vikro, but all Master’s lose to their Apprentice’s at one point or another,” Xander said with a grin, not allowing Vikro to see how quickly the sweat now poured from him.

Vikro stopped, the initial stage of the duel had reached its climax. He raised his hand, pushing Xander back into the wall with all the strength of his unique Force Push, much stronger than the average Force Push. Xander, well used to this style of attack after having battled alongside Vikro for five years now, was still only able to deflect a partial amount of the energy, the rest sending him slamming into the wall.

He created a Force buffer just in time, as his back smashed in to what felt like a thick cloud, and not the millimetres of air between his back and the wall. He walked forward again, pulling Vikro’s lightsaber hard, catching the aged Jedi Master with surprise, and managed to pull it free, and into his waiting mechanical left hand.

Xander held both blades ignited, the blue and green splaying across his face, and creating an eerie glow. Vikro backed away, his back pushed to the wall, his face displaying uncertainty. Xander approached him slowly, but as he closed to within ten meters, broke into a sprint, lunging at his Master.

Vikro, discarding his mask of uncertainty, flipped over Xander’s head, using the inertia of Xander’s sprint and his own powerful Force Push, sent Xander smashing into the wall. As Xander hit, he spun, locking Vikro’s lightsaber on, and throwing it at his Master, pushing it with all his strength.

It flung hard and fast, and only a quick duck of his head saved Vikro from loosing the duel. As Vikro summoned his lightsaber back, the two stopped, panting for breath after the intensity of the last two minutes.

Almost sheepishly realising they were still duelling, the pair raised their lightsabers again in one final attack in a last ditch effort to defeat the other. Xander flipped over Vikro’s running attack, striking at his Master’s back. Vikro spun, smashing with all his strength up towards Xander’s head. Because of his lethargic strike, Xander’s lightsaber spun from his grasp, and he felt a buzz rattle his teeth as Vikro’s blade touched his chin, announcing his defeat.

“Very good Xander, perhaps next time we will have to call it a draw,” Vikro said, with a weak smile.

“Master?” Xander said.

“Yes?”

“Will you teach me how to perform your Force Push? It is extraordinarily strong, and it would be very useful to be able to use.”

“Of course, but you’ll understand if I say that I won’t be able to teach you it right now,” Vikro said laughing.

“Of course,” Xander said grinning as he raised a hand, his lightsaber thudding into it as the pair walked from the sparring chambers, intent on drinking the cafeteria dry.

Jedi Temple – Training Chamber

After three hours of drinking in the cafeteria, and two days recovery, Vikro stood with Xander in one of the spare Training Chambers, to fulfil his word and teach his Apprentice how to perform his legendary Force “Shove” as it had become known.

Xander stood at the ready, dressed only in a light robe, his lightsaber resting on his over-robe on his bed back in his dormitory. Today he would need nothing but his strength in the Force.

Vikro stood in front of him, his face the perfect picture of calm, his eyes closed in concentration. “Raise your hand,” he instructed, “Over time you will be able to perform this manoeuvre without such a gesture, but it will aid you when you are low on energy, or, as now, when you are just beginning to learn it.”

Xander raised his hand, automatically reaching inside him for the Force, conjuring it around his hand as an invisible force, ready to send it flying into the metallic target Vikro had constructed.

“No,” Vikro said sharply, “That is what would be done for a Force Push. Although a similar although stronger result is attained, this manoeuvre is almost completely different.”

Xander nodded, “I am sorry master,” he said, allowing the energy to dissipate.

“Very well,” Vikro said, continuing. “Feel inside you for the Force, and conjure it – not to your hand – but to the target itself. Surround it in the Force, yes, that’s it,” he said, feeling the target brim with the Force as Xander constantly pushed more and more of the Force from himself upon the target. He could feel Xander immersing it in the Force, with no strength behind it – for strength would actually affect the target, an end Xander was trying hard not to achieve.

“Now, summon a small amount of that energy back towards you in a sort of link,” Vikro commanded, “Then, stretch that link back as tight as it will go, and suddenly sever it, the end result should be a powerful shove, as the Padawans love to call it.”

Xander followed his instructions and was pleased to watch as the metallic monstrosity catapulted back into the wall with enough strength to dent it.

“Good, although I’m sure Rive won’t be too happy about the damage we’ve caused his wall,” Vikro said, a twinkle in his eye. “But over time you will be able to complete that manoeuvre more and more quickly, until it is no more difficult to achieve than an ordinary Force Push.”

“Thank you Master, I always imagined it to be similar to a Force Push, because of the similar result, but now that I see how complicated it is, I truly appreciate how powerful you are.”

“Oh Xander,” Vikro chided, “We are only as strong as the rules we set ourselves, by the constraints we put upon our own power. To use when necessary, yes, but never to cause pain or harm in one who has no intent to do so to us.”

Xander nodded, comprehension dawning on him. Over the years he had evolved from the rash young boy he had been to a civilised young man. He had arrived at the Temple thinking the Force was a tool with which to achieve his aims, to wave around as a badge of honour. Vikro’s powerful guidance had shown him just how wrong he was. The Force was no tool. It was an ally. A powerful ally at that.

Xander Vos

Chapter Fourteen

**17 ABY**

Kroprulu – Entrance Hall

Commander Minious sat in his chair, staring lazily out the window to the endless bounds of space above their heads. He had always been bored with this part of the weekly ritual for the Council – approving who was to become Sith, and who were to be rejected and trained as Dark Jedi. He had been debating with the Council for weeks if not months to try and install a droid processing system, with those not chosen by a Master left to be Dark Jedi.

He stopped himself from yawning as the next initiate – a startlingly beautiful young woman, of about fourteen by the looks of her – entered the room. Lord Tontie begun the proceedings, asking her to list her name, gender, planet of origin, and other such tidbits of information that the Council would store in her file.

Tontie then examined a midichlorian sample that had been taken earlier, and nodded in approval.

“Tell me, how best do you think you shall serve the Empire?” He asked.

“I wish to serve in the navy, or as an instructor. I have spent much time learning from my father before his untimely death, and know much about Echani combat.”

“Very well. It just so happens we have a Dathomiri Witch awaiting her final stages of training in the arts of combat, and you may be able to assist,” Tontie said, referring to Darth Minious’ Apprentice Ackin who was nearing her trials.

Darth Minious stiffened, allowing an Initiate, especially one of such a young age assist in training of an Apprentice, no matter how skilled had never been heard of in all his time on the Council which stretched back to the Order’s founding’s. Tontie must have been impressed readily by her midichlorian levels.

“Tell me,” Darth Minious interceded, “You mention your father was an Imperial. Do you hold any biases towards alien species? As you may or may not have realised, our Council contains many near-humans, including myself, and to hold such a bias, no matter what your upbringing would be most unseemly.”

The young woman paused, thinking hard about her answer, “I hold no biases to those who hold none to me,” she said, finally.

Satisfied with her answer, Tontie spewed forth the answer most commonly heard, the answer that would mean she would be trained as a Sith. Judging from the historical significance she already held, Darth Minious knew he would watch Eriaté Sulla’s training and life in the Sith Order with much interest.

Dantooine – Caves

Xander pressed his back up against Vikro’s, the two fighting fiercely against the smugglers who had made their homes in these jewel caves. Thousands of years ago this set of caves had provided jewels for Jedi’s lightsabers when the academy on Dantooine had prospered. Now it was stripped bare by any pirates or smugglers who chose to make home in them.

Xander dodged a blaster bolt, blocking another on his blade. The sheer number of smugglers had overwhelmed Vikro and him, as they had originally been told there would only be a small number.

As five smugglers charged the pair brandishing vibro-blades, Xander was forced to roll to the side, away from Vikro. He sliced through the legs of two smugglers, killing a third with a clean strike through his chest. The smuggler fell away, his last breath gurgling in his lungs.

Xander tried to get up, but a smuggler pushed him back down, holding his gun to Xander’s chest, knocking Xander’s lightsaber away.

“Don’t move Jedi,” he snarled. Xander turned to call for Vikro, but a bright blue blade appeared through the man’s chest, signifying that Vikro had already found him. As the smuggler was pulled away by the force of gravity, his rifle went off, sending a bolt flying into Xander’s chest. Xander threw up his hand instinctively, summoning the Force as if it could aid him in this impossible task.

Moments later he felt intense heat in his palm, but nothing more. He opened his eyes, and glanced at his palm. Not even heat blisters told the tale of the blaster bolt that had hit it moments before. For the first time he noticed the quiet, and realised Vikro had defeated the rest of the smugglers.

Vikro stood above him, holding out Xander’s lightsaber for him, a curious expression resting on his face.

“That’s a rare ability Xander, not many Jedi can perform it. It isn’t one that can be learnt, but is inherited. Your mother’s family must have been blessed with it, as I never knew the Vos family had it in them.”

Xander gazed at his palm, “But what does it mean?”

“Whenever a lightsaber, or any energy for that matter, strikes your body, all you need to do is summon the Force to that area before it is hit, and that energy will be transformed from destructive to helpful. You can use it to empower your lightsaber, or replenish lost stamina.”

Xander breathed in wonder, unable to understand how he had been blessed with such an obviously rare ability. “How do you know so much about it? Can you perform it?”

Vikro chuckled, “By the Force no. I can perform the more common form of it, much as many people can perform the common form of Force Shove. I am able to block energy for a time and redirect it, but I cannot absorb it as you can.”

The two paused for a minute and then, realising where they were, stood and brushed off their clothes.

“Come,” Vikro said, “We should tell the locals that their smuggler problems are finished with.”

Bakuran Temple – Padawan Quarters

Lyn and Xander sat in their room staring at the wall in silence. Both had recently returned from fairly dangerous missions – Xander from Dantooine and Lyn from Mon Calamari. They had rarely spoken of it, but they both knew that soon Lyn was going to be promoted to Jedi Knight, within the next three or four years.

“Mon Calamari was chaos,” Lyn said, breaking the silence, in an effort to forge a conversation, “We spent most of the time under water, which meant we couldn’t use our lightsabers. Kavar did most of the talking, though the Quarren didn’t seem to want to listen. We were attacked a few times whilst in their city, so we were able to use our lightsabers, but when we were leaving we were pretty much defenceless. At one point a blaster bolt missed my head by a fraction of a centimetre.

“What’ll I do Xander?” He said, turning to Xander, his eyes full of worry.

“What do you mean?”

“When I become a Jedi Knight, I won’t have Master Kavar looking out for me, I’ll have to fight on my own. And even worse, when I get my own Apprentice I’ll have to look out for them! I could have died yesterday, and it was only by the Force that I didn’t. I can’t die Xander. I have so much I want to do. Don’t you?”

Xander’s thoughts turned to his parents, back home in Mos Hurga. His Grand-Mother’s grave, defiled, and needing to be rebuilt. So much of the Galaxy he hadn’t visited.

“You shall do everything you want to and more during your time as a Jedi,” he said, “Once you become a Knight you’ll have nothing holding you here for long periods, and I’m sure the Council will allow you to travel as far and wide as you want. And as for having no one to fight alongside, there’s always me,” Xander said with a grin.

“Thanks Xander,” Lyn said grinning, “You always know just what to say.”

“Maybe I’m just gifted,” Xander teased, but at his own remark, he fell silent, brooding.

“What’s wrong?” Lyn said.

“When I was on Dantooine with Vikro, I discovered another thing making me different from the rest of the Jedi,” Xander said, miserable, “I can use the ability Force Absorb, which Vikro says is really rare in a Jedi. I don’t want to be rare! I want to be normal! To fit in!”

“But you do fit in,” Lyn said, “Look around us next time you’re in the cafeteria, there are creatures of every species imaginable. I even heard they brought in an infant Barabel for training the other day. We are who we are, and that makes us unique. You have your abilities that make you unique, and I have mine.”

Xander pondered this as he gazed out into the milling hall, “You’re right Lyn,” he said, turning and grinning. “Thanks.”

“Any time, my friend,” Lyn said, clapping Xander on the shoulder, “Now, what do you say we go get something to eat?”

“I’m famished,” Xander said, agreeing, and hopping off his bed. The pair wandered down the hall, navigating between Jedi pupils, intent on hitting the cafeteria just in time for lunch.

Xander Vos

Chapter Fifteen

**23 ABY**

Jedi Temple – Council Chambers

Kavar, Lyn, Vikro, and Xander stood before the Council. They knew this must be an important mission for two Masters and their Apprentices to be required. Vikro, however, knew otherwise, but kept quiet, knowing this mission would be testing on how Xander fought with a friend and fellow Padawan on the field.

“There have been reports of disturbances in Thespis, which is a city not to far from here,” Abba said, “We need you, Kavar, to lead the way, as you and Lyn know Bakura’s landscape very well, and Vikro and Xander for their strength in the Force in dealing with troublemakers.”

Lyn shifted uncomfortably, bitter at once again being reminded that he had been given a lot more local missions than Xander, who had been sent on dangerous mission after dangerous mission, all successes. He felt like bursting out and reprimanding Xander, telling the Council how it was just Vikro doing the hard work, and Xander desperately not wanting to be unique, and the rest that Xander had dumped on him without asking.

Taking a deep breath, he remembered the Jedi Code. There is no emotion, there is peace. Xander had spoken to him in confidentiality. Whatever issues Lyn had with him lay between him and Xander, he had no right drawing the Council in. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. Lyn understood how Xander felt, he could not just cast his best friend’s feelings aside in an attempt to draw more glory to himself. There is no passion, there is serenity. Lyn let his feelings fill him, to almost bursting point, then slowly let them seep out, leaving him feeling calm and at peace. There is no death, there is the Force. He and Xander were joined now, joined for eternity. He couldn’t let a trivial matter come between them. He took a deep breath and focussed again on the Council, who were speaking seriously to his Master.

Kavar glanced at Lyn, and gave him a supporting smile, sensing the conflict that had just passed through his Padawan, letting him know he had done the right thing.

“Masters, I will do what I must,” Xander said, speaking for the first time. He had paused, frowning as he was about to speak, feeling the rush of emotions in his best friend. He felt confused. He had known Lyn for a long time, longer than he had known Jysek. They had matured together, now both adults in their prime. He glanced over at Lyn again.

Lyn had lost his traditional spiky hair, opting instead for a cut that let his hair hang gently behind his ears, but not too long as to get in the way, although it remained messy, unbrushed. Xander smiled, Lyn had never been fond of conforming, always rebelling in the slightest ways. Lyn had never had a major growth spurt, his height resting at a meter seventy.

To the contrary, Xander had shot up when he reached eighteen, much later than most of the other boys. He was over ten centimetres taller than Lyn, and made sure he knew it in teasing bouts. His strictly short hair that he had worn through much of his Apprenticeship now rested at his shoulders, and he had added blonde streaks to it, as a replacement, not an adequate one, to the tattoo he had never received as a member of the Vos clan. Xander was nearing thirty, and knew that he was to be promoted very soon. He felt for Lyn, who had been held back by his Master, who wanted to be very thorough with Lyn’s training. Xander hoped that he and Lyn would be Knighted in the same ceremony, as that would be the ultimate honour for the pair.

“That is good to hear, but unnecessary,” Koras said, frowning at Xander, “We know that no matter what you shall give any mission your all. You have proven that on many occasions now.” Koras had watched Xander grow from a young boy into a man, sensing the conflict that still resided in Xander, knowing what his Grand-Father had become, fearing he would follow the same path, especially after that outburst on Naboo all those years ago.

One who had watched Xander for quite some time, who had been absent – conspicuously so, for over a decade now, was Rive Caedo. Despite the time, Xander always expected to hear a witty remark jump from the old man’s mouth, or a stern telling off if he ran too fast in the hall. Xander missed the man, who had come close to a father figure for him.

“You may leave whenever you believe you need to, the Council wishes you all strength in the Force, and we hope you will return safely to us,” Shatterpoint finished, breaking him out of his train of thought, smiling at them all, especially at Xander, who she was especially proud of, he had changed so much – for the better – since she had brought him here. He was finally finding his path in life, and with friends and allies to support him, she knew he would do well long after she had joined the Force.

Bakura – Thespis Outskirts

Xander walked ahead of Vikro and Kavar, Lyn at his side. The two glanced suspiciously around, and into the town, where reports of insurgents had originated. They had hear reports that a group of terrorists were holding many of the people in the town hostage to gain a large sum of money from a bank situated in the middle of the town.

The four Jedi exuded an air of calm, glancing around the town casually. However, beneath the surface a thick layer of tension spread between them, unbeknownst to a casual observer. The casual glances they threw at buildings in the town were absorbing information that might help them later. Sizing up sniper spots, figuring out escape routs, and the like.

Xander glanced around, surprised at how quiet the town was, and a little suspicious. Even if there was a hostage situation, civilians should still be out and about, or in their homes, and yet everywhere seemed deserted. The four walked closer and closer to the centre of the town, now dropping any pretences of calm and gripping their lightsaber hilts.

“Keep an eye out for snipers on any roofs,” Xander said quietly to Lyn, not taking his eyes off the roof-tops as they passed. Finally, as they rounded a building advertising a certain type of legal spice, they spied the bank.

“There it is,” said Lyn, igniting his sapphire coloured blade, as Xander ignited his dark green blade. Two identical snap-hisses behind them signified their Masters igniting their own blades, as still not a person was seen.

Suddenly Lyn felt a wave of darkness through the Force. “Down,” he ordered, pushing Xander down onto the ground with the Force, as a blaster bolt sped down, charring the ground just past where he had stood. If he had still been standing, the blast would have struck him in the side of the head before he had time to react.

Vikro turned, and leapt to the roof of the building where the shot had come from, slicing through the chest of the Bakuran who had appeared there shortly before the blast had been fired. He fell back in surprise, dropping his rifle. Vikro turned, watching in amazement as dozens, if not more, men appeared on various roofs around the centre of the city, men pouring from the bank, with various DC rifles, some even bringing out powerful E-Web blasters, setting up the chain guns, and pointing them at Xander, Lyn and Kavar. The snipers pointed at Vikro, making sure he stayed glued to the spot.

“Time to die, Jedi,” a man snarled as he took a step away from the others, towards the Jedi Knight and the two Padawans.

Kavar took a step back, closing his large black eyes. The Sullustan stood perfectly still, his green lightsaber dipped forward slightly in concentration. His eyes whirling open suddenly, he raised a hand, and the top of the bank rumbled, collapsing on top of the men stationed beneath it, crushing any cries of surprise from them as it buried them.

The snipers opened fire, and Xander, Lyn and Vikro whirled into action, Kavar ahead of them, slicing through the chests of men who moments ago had been high above his head. The tiny Sullustan shoved through the men with surprising force, their lifeless bodies toppling from the roof top to hit the floor with a dull thud.

Xander and Lyn remained on the ground redirecting blaster bolts into the bodies of any men who appeared to be directly harming their Masters. Xander glanced up at Vikro, who stood at the edge of the roof, battling three men who wielded Force Pikes, an unusual weapon for such a quaint town.

Xander watched, his eyes in surprise, as a man emerged from the edge of the rubble, carrying an ancient rocket propelled grenade launcher. He must have been the leader, who had stepped forward, Xander realised. By stepping forward he saved himself, the rubble falling mainly behind him.

“Master!” Xander called out, sending tendrils of Force Lightning into the man, throwing him against the rubble, and quenching the life from him.

As Kavar felled the final man, silence fell amongst the town, as all eyes fixed themselves on Xander. Vikro and Kavar leapt from the roof, landing softly on the floor, their lightsabers deactivated and resting on their belts. Vikro marched past Xander, not saying a word to him as he begun to check the pulses of the men on the ground.

“What?” Xander demanded, “I saved your life!”

“With the use of the Dark Side,” Vikro said, whirling around. Xander was surprised to hear an edge in his voice, “You gave in to your anger and-”

“No,” Xander declared, “I didn’t feel any anger, fear or any other Dark Side emotion at all, I used my judgement, and that was the quickest way to save you. If I hadn’t, you would be dead, and the morale of the Jedi Order would be crippled. The Sith would be able to defeat us much easier, and the Galaxy would lie in darkness. I prevented that, yes with a Dark Side power, but not with the Dark Side. I side-stepped the rules to achieve an outcome the Force desires.”

Vikro studied him for a moment, realising he was right, and that sometimes the right course of action is not decided by the rules, but by the circumstances. All he could say was, “Beware the quick and easy path Xander,” before rising from the last of the dead men, and calling Kavar and Lyn to him.

“We’ve dealt with the terrorists,” he said, “But the women and children are missing, which is odd. They must be near by, or they themselves may be hostages. Whilst Kavar’s action was rash, killing the hostages, it may have saved countless more lives. If they had killed us, the other hostages would have then been killed, the bait for the trap no longer needed, and the four known hostages were a willing sacrifice to save the hundreds trapped.”

Lyn and Xander stared shocked at him. The way he spoke he sounded as if he preferred them to be alive than the hostages. Vikro turned and with a sad smile said to Xander, “Sometimes the rules must be broken to save the Force,” he said. Xander nodded, understanding.

“I think they’ll be near by,” Lyn said, “There’s a system of caves on the outskirts, opposite where we arrived from, and it would be a logical place to keep captives. A fresh water stream runs by near it, and it has plenty of cover. Coupled with that the caves are laced with metals that would throw of scanners.”

“Then that’s where we will look,” Kavar said, moving forwards, the others following him.

Unknown Location

The man didn’t know where he was, or who he was. He had awoken to find himself in captivity, leering faces appearing everywhere he looked, though he had determined them to be specters in his mind.

All he remembered was light, and then blur. The door to his cell was locked fast, and the only window was made of an indestructible material, even the chair by his bed wouldn’t shatter it when thrown at it. He sat on his bed, his face in his hands, trying to make sense of where he was.

He knew much had happened, he still had flash memories of floating in some sort of liquid, feeling it sting him as it knitted together his flesh from injuries created long ago. He remembered feeling like he was being watched. He remembered nothing else.

Bakura - Thespis Caves

Lyn walked ahead with Kavar, Vikro and Xander slightly behind, murmuring to each other presumably about their conversation from earlier. Lyn gazed into the cave’s depths, trying to discern where the townspeople could be being held. Kavar put out his hand, stopping his Apprentice. Xander and Vikro also stopped.

“There is a very large cave at the end of this tunnel,” he whispered, “With seven guards blocking the way, and a further ten guards dispersed between the prisoners. We must take those ten out as quickly as possible, or they will kill prisoners. And please be quiet or they will hear us.”

Lyn silently kicked himself in his mind for forgetting that, as a Sullustan, Kavar would be seeing this cave as bright as the daylight outside. He winced slightly, imagining what the actual day would look like to a Sullustan.

“How are they able to see?” Asked Xander, curious.

“They have glow rods set to very dim which they are using to check on the prisoners,” said Kavar and, sure enough, as they neared the cavern, they could make out dim light.

Perhaps if we pulled the glow rods from them, they would be in the darkness, then you could take out the guards patrolling the hostages,” Xander said, “Then we could blast them with light and take out the rest of them if you get into any trouble.”

Kavar was silent for a moment, considering the plan, then nodded, “Very well,” he said, disappearing in front of them into the darkness. Xander, Lyn and Vikro waited, and suddenly cries of confusion rippled through the tunnel, echoing off the walls. Soon Kavar returned, his arms full of glow rods, which were now extinguished, only one remaining barely light.

He nodded to Vikro, before turning and moving stealthily into the camp. Sudden thumps could be heard as he clinically dispatched the guards in the camp. Finally he returned to them breathless, they’re on to me, light up and take them out,” he said.

Xander, who had positioned the lights on the floor in strategic places, lit them all simultaneously using the Force, momentarily blinding the guards. The Jedi, who had steeled themselves for the sudden light through the Force, leapt forward, slicing through them methodically. Not a single shot was fired.

Lyn moved between the hostages, relieving them of their bonds. One man stood up, stretching his aching hands. “Thank you for your help, Jedi. They came into town only a few days ago unexpectedly, and slowly people began to disappear. Finally it became obvious it was them and we staged a battle, three of my men were killed, and they captured the rest of us,” the man said, glaring at his feet, “They set the trap hoping to catch the Jedi, who they claimed had an Enclave in the area. But you aren’t from here, are you?” He said, almost begging them to say they weren’t. The idea of a Jedi Temple on Bakura terrified him, it would mean the Sith would arrive en masse and wreak havoc across the planet.

“No, of course not,” Vikro said, “We are part of the Phantoms, as you should have guessed, and I’m sorry, but we can’t disclose the location of our Temple for obvious reasons.”

The man sighed in relief, “I’m Jak by the way, Jak Pharlan. I’m in charge of the minor policing force this town contains, that in war time serves as our military.” He paused, expecting them to surrender their names. When they didn’t, he continued, “Are they all gone from our town now?”

“Yes, it is safe to return,” Xander said, as the Jedi checked that no one was injured or sick. After doing so, they turned to leave. Almost as an afterthought, Lyn turned back, “Oh, and sorry about your bank, my Master doesn’t know how to control himself,” he said, keeping a straight face, before breaking into a grin.

Jak stared after them in obvious confusion, and they could hear him mutter, “Jedi, pfft,” under his breath.

Xander Vos

Chapter Sixteen

**23 ABY - Three Days After Thespis**

Bakura – Jedi Temple

The day began like any other. Both Xander and Lyn rose early, jogging to the top of the Temple, sitting on one of the viewing balconies, over looking the forest. The two sat in meditation, breathing deeply and letting the life in the forest wash over them, submerging them in the lives of the animals in the forest.

Xander followed the adventures of two birds as they soared through the tree tops, before they dived, catching a pair of rodents that Lyn had been following. Lyn frowned slightly, concentrating on different animals.

Their adventure to Thespis had left them shaken. Humans were beginning to suspect that the Jedi were based on Bakura. The Council had been discussing it for the past three days, seriously considering moving the Temple to another world that would conceal them better, but the ancestry coupled with Vikro convincing Jak that they didn’t come from Bakura meant that the issue was tentative – if any further hints arose that they had been discovered, they would leave immediately.

A warmth crept across Lyn and Xander as the golden sun rose from its bed, to begin the day. More animals flocked from their dwellings, and begun to search for food to feed their hungry babes, or to satisfy their own hunger.

Finally Xander stretched and rose, moments after Lyn himself had begun to move. Lyn grinned at Xander, “One of these days I’ll last longer than you. I can be patient, you know.”

“Of course you can,” Xander quipped, “As patient as a Sith in a room of unarmed Jedi.”

“Why you,” growled Lyn playfully, racing towards Xander, who raced away towards the cafeteria. Xander felt a pang of regret, even after all these years. He remembered a time, just before he had left on his journey, when he and Jysek had raced. Then he had easily beaten Jysek, just as easily as Lyn was beating him now. Lyn had always been faster of the two, and Xander enjoyed that, as it separated Lyn from Jysek firmly, allowing him to view them both separately.

They reached the entrance to the cafeteria and stopped. Standing before the doors, obviously waiting for them, were Vikro and Kavar, with stern expressions on their faces. Xander reached out and probed his Master through the Force, questioningly. All he met was a brick wall. Vikro was hiding his emotions, unusual coming from him.

Kavar turned to Lyn and spoke softly to him, a puzzled expression blossoming on Lyn’s face. Vikro turned to Xander, “Come with me,” he said, disappearing up the hall towards the Council Chambers.

Xander glanced at Lyn, who shrugged and followed him, Kavar lingering at the back. As they reached the Council Chambers, the doors were shut, Vikro already inside. Xander understood. Many a time Vikro had summoned him before the Council, but as a Council Member, not his Master, and this would be one of those occasions.

As the doors slid open, the room was bathed in darkness, and as Xander and Lyn stepped in, Kavar stopped, letting the doors slide shut in front of him, before walking off. “Master?” Lyn said turning back, but was stopped by a figure.

Around the room, five lightsabers ignited, casting a mixed glow around the room. The purple, blue, and green light splayed over them. Xander reached towards his lightsaber, but stopped, no fear or anger emanated from the room. There was no danger. Although the blades were ignited, the faces of those who held them – the Council, Xander now realised – were still shrouded in darkness, presumably through the Force.

“Lyn Korak, step forward and kneel before me,” a female voice commanded. Lyn swallowed nervously, and stepped forward. The figure lowered her sapphire lightsaber, letting it hover gently above his left shoulder, then over towards his right. Xander’s eyes widened in realisation. He knew what this was.

“Lyn Korak, over the past twenty years you have grown from a young boy into a man. You have proven yourself over and over on missions with your Master, and now he has decided it is time. Rise Lyn Korak for the first time, as Jedi Knight.”

Lyn rose, grinning, and remembered himself, bowing before Abba, “Thank you Master Abba, I won’t disappoint you.”

“Xander Vos, step forward,” said a male voice, and Xander grinned, recognising it at once as Vikro’s voice. He stepped forward, kneeling before his old Master.

“Xander Vos, you were found after a planet was ravaged by Sith devastation, it was rumoured you would either leave us in great darkness into great light. With what has transpired since then, the correct fate is obvious now. Rise, Jedi Knight Xander Vos, and claim your rightful title as Blade of Light.”

Xander was a little unnerved, having never heard of these rumours, but deeply honoured to have been given such a wondrous title.

“Thank you Master Vikro, I pledge myself and all my strengths to the destruction of the Sith. May my strengths shatter them, and my weaknesses lure them into a false sense of security. I pledge myself to the Council, and give them my fealty, as Blade of Light.”

He rose, staring solemnly into Vikro’s eyes, now revealed as the ceremony neared its close. The two kept a passive expression on their faces. But after a moment Vikro broke into a smile, followed quickly by Xander.

“Congratulations Xander,” Vikro said, gripping Xander in a hug.

“Thank you, Vikro,” Xander said, feeling odd at not having to use the title Master before Vikro’s name, unless he chose to.

He stepped back, turning and embracing Lyn as well, the two staring into each other’s faces, grinning. Abba raised her arms, and the lights flickered on in the Council chambers.

“Go forth now, and fulfil the Order’s wishes as our two newest Jedi Knights,” she said, finishing the ceremony, and breaking into a smile.

Suddenly the formality of the room vanished, and Xander and Lyn moved between the Council Members, shaking hands and hugging the Council who gave them good wishes for the future.

Finally Xander and Lyn were ready to return to their room for the last time, where they would pack their belongings and move up a level to the Knight floor, where they would each get a separate room. While that would be exciting, it would also be sad. It would be Xander’s first time on his own.

He looked back at the Council, gave Vikro a firm nod, and stepped out into the Temple, to begin the rest of his life.

To Be Continued... In Part Two.

Xander Vos

PART TWO

The Sword of Light will always prevail against the Daggers of Darkness.
-Ancient Bakuran Enclave Saying

Chapter One

** 23 ABY – One month after Xander’s Knighting**

Utapau - Surface

The man watched a group of Utai lead a dactillion dragonmount across the Starport, from one set of cages to a transport, from which it would be transported off-world. Most likely to some Hutt’s lair as an equivalent to Jabba’s Rancor. The air was arid, the dryness startling the man, who had lived most of his life within the lush wetness of Bakura. He had arrived on Utapau only days before, to meditate in silence.

Utapau had been a hotspot in the final days of the Clone Wars. Obi-Wan Kenobi, the Jedi Master who had trained Luke Skywalker, had served there, or so the historians claimed. The devastating Order 66 had failed to kill him, proving how strong the man was, and Darth Vader had torn himself apart trying to find him. Since then the world had been held by the Empire, and only in the last ten or so years had it been added to the New Republic.

What had drawn the man here most of all, however, was the rumours that the original Jedi Order could possibly have originated on Utapau, or at the very least, Utapau was one of the main planets giving members to the Jedi Order. A wry smile touched the man’s lips at the thought of the short and stubby Utai or the tall and lanky Pau’an becoming Jedi Knights, though his thoughts also flashed to the Bakuran Enclave, where many members came from odd species, such as Trandoshans, Mandalorians, Barabels and Mon Calamarians. The Force certainly wasn’t selective.

The man rose, and stepped over to his small dwelling which had been leant to him by the Pau’an, as their own token of respect for the Jedi Order and what it represented to them. Ever since Obi-Wan Kenobi had fought for them there, they had revered the Jedi, devastated to learn their world had been one of the dozens to witness the death of the Order. When the man had arrived, he had let mention that he was a member of the Phantoms become common knowledge to the Pau’ans, who he knew could be trusted with such information. They had tripped over themselves to see that he received whatever accommodation he desired.

The stew on the small fire was boiling, and he quickly removed it, dousing the fire, and pulling up a chair. He dug in, eating his way through the delicious stew he had made from some of the rare vegetables on Tatooine. It reminded him of his home, being in this rustic dwelling on a barren planet, and yet it wasn’t home. So many of the Jedi had been born on Tatooine – Vikro, Abba - and that traitor of a Jedi Urwen. Many years ago Urwen had returned to the Temple after being appointed Jedi General, unleashing his anger on the Temple, killing many Younglings, and escaping to the Sith Empire’s home world. He had never been seen since.

The man’s fist tightened in anger. He had tried hard to fight the man, but had failed, receiving a scar on his arm for his trouble. The scar hadn’t bothered him for years, and he had nearly forgotten about the trouble that Urwen had wrought until a week ago when the injury had flared up, for some unknown reason he assumed had to do with the lack of physical training he was putting himself under.

The sun went down and slowly each of the nine moons rose into the sky. In the sinkhole below him, lights shone brightly from the carved sides as the night society slowly came out. Whilst most Utapauns lived below ground, many lived on the surface as pilots or mechanics or the like. Many others worked as tamers of the dactillions, the pay high because of the numerous deaths and maulings achieved by arrogant keepers or vicious dactillions.

The man stared into the sky, wrapping his cloak around him, shivering slightly. The cold did not bother him, but for the first time in his life, Xander Vos felt alone.

Unknown Location

The man stared out of his cell window, his hands bloodied from his incessant pounding on the door. But now something had changed, the atmosphere of the guards was of excitement. They had been cooped up in a small room that over looked five cells, of which three contained prisoners, for hours now. The man was in the middle one, an Iridonian Zabrak on his left, a Quarren on his right.

A door opened at the far end of the room, a bright light beyond blinding the man slightly. He shifted his hand to block his eyes from the fierce glow. A man, trailed by three heavily armed guards, walked slowly into the room, his shoes clicking on the steel floor, the light behind him slowly fading, sharpening his features.

He looked down his nose at the three prisoners, before pointing at the Quarren, saying something quietly to one of the guards. The guard nodded, pressing a button, allowing them into the Quarren’s cell. The Quarren looked at them with a look of suspicion on his face, and he backed up into his cell. The guards approached, and quickly held him down as he tried to dart between them and out the door. The man said something to him, as if of a routine he had repeated over and over. They took out a complicated looking machine, pressing it to the Quarren. He began to scream, to shake them off, but they held him down. They looked at the reading, confused at what it said, and showed it to the man, who consulted it and shook his head, before pausing, and nodding to the guards. The guards pulled out vibro-swords, impaling the Quarren, as he screamed in pain and horror, and then slicing off his head. They dragged the body from the cell to a garbage dispenser, and hung the head on an information post near the desk, positioning the face to stare lifeless into the faces of the other two prisoners.

The man swallowed nervously as the man approached his own cell. The door disappeared with the press of a button courtesy of one of the two guards, and the man stepped in, regarding him scornfully. The man was tall and stern, his grey lifeless eyes seemed to stare past the prisoner, uncaring, and the way he stood asserted authority over anyone who dared challenge him.

“Prisoner 112A, you have been scheduled for testing, and I, Jonas Weyx, shall carry it out. I do not need your permission for said testing, so any form of resistance shall be subdued,” the man said, sounding as if he had said that so many times it had lost any meaning to him.

Glad he finally had an identity, 112A nodded, fearful he would end up like the Quarren. The man nodded, signalling the guards who moved forward. He backed up, glancing at the walls, as if looking for a way, any way, for him to escape. Slowly edging forwards, the guards pounced, pressing something against his skin. He felt a sharp sting, and he shouted out, and then nothing, the man peered at the reading, and then nodded, the previous tension in his stance elapsed. Jonas stood, peering closely into 112A’s face, focussing on him intently this time, much more interested thanks to the reading on the display.

He turned to leave, saying over his shoulder as the cell door flickered back in to life, “Congratulations 112A, you are Force Sensitive. Training will commence within the next few weeks. You shall serve our Master well.”

Xander Vos

Chapter Two

**23 ABY – One Week After Leaving Utapau**

Bakura – Jedi Temple

The Bakuran sky glimmered in the dying light, the sun casting a deep red glow across the sky. Xander soaked it in, relishing in having returned. His journey to Utapau had taught him much about himself, and that was valuable enough to have spent as long there as he did. When he had returned he had been told that he was to move to his new quarters that were his by right as of ascending to the rank of Jedi Knight.

As he stood there staring out at the beautiful sunlight, he knew that it represented the end of a day, but also the end of a saga, the end of his time with Lyn, the end of his time as a Padawan to Vikro – even though he’d been a Jedi Knight for over a month, it only felt like he was truly becoming one now – and most of all an end to his childhood. But, of course, with the end of every day comes the start of a new one, and Xander smiled, encouraged by the prospect, and waited for Vikro.

“Xander? What is it you wanted to see me about?”

Xander turned, smiling at the familiar face, “Thank you, Master Vikro, I know how valuable your time is, the Outer Rim Sieges must be wreaking havoc with the Jedi Order..”

“Come now Xander, you should know by now you can call me Vikro, I’m not your Master, and I don’t like pressing my rank on others. But yes, the Outer Rim Sieges aren’t going as well as we hoped. After our initial victory at Lorta where we had the fortune of finding you, barely any of the battles have gone our way. But that’s for another time. What did you want to talk to me about?”

“Very well. Thank you Vikro. Its just-” Xander hesitated, unsure how to continue without betraying the emotion welling up within himself. He composed himself and begun again, “Throughout my life I have had companions – my parents, Jysek, Lyn, you, but now I’m on my own. Whenever the Council sends me on missions, I’ll be alone. I know I’m expected to take an Apprentice in the next few years, but until then I’ll be alone. I’ve never been alone before and, well, I feel so empty.”

Vikro nodded in understanding. “Xander, you must understand, that nearly everyone is alone at one point or another in their lives, and you must learn to accept this as a human being. As a Jedi Knight, however, you should know that a Jedi Knight shall never be alone. They have the Force by their side, supporting them in every move they make towards bringing about the destruction of this new Sith threat, or just towards stopping the greater evil.”

Xander nodded, absorbing the information, but letting it rest just short of realisation, “But if the Force is always an ally when we make moves to bringing about a greater peace, what would happen when we use it in moments of passion? Will it still support us? My actions in Thespis seem to have been rash in your eyes, and my actions upon finding my Grand Mother’s grave were certainly not correct. Will the Force still support us despite our hiccups, or abandon us until we return to the right path?”

Vikro stared him down gravely, knowing full well Xander was ashamed of his past actions, but that however did not excuse him of them. “You have committed ghastly acts in the past Xander, nothing on the scale of even just a Dark Jedi, but ghastly for a Jedi Knight. You struck your Master, you used a Sith technique on nearly defenceless civilians, yes to save your Masters life, and yes they had malicious intent, but nevertheless, still horrid. The Force forgives all if the right path is achieved. Even in the moments before death, if a Sith Lord resigns himself to the light and sees the errors in his ways, he is redeemed, and becomes one with the Force as he should be. No one is beyond redemption. Remember that Xander.”

Xander nodded, breaking into a semi-relieved smile, “Thank the Force. I thought I was alone to face the perils of the Galaxy. Knowing I have the Force makes it all the more easy. The Sith stand no chance.”

Vikro grinned, “They never did.”

Kroprulu – Sith High Council Chambers

“Over the past two decades, we have taxed the Outer Rim worlds, and many Expansionary Region and Mid-Rim worlds. Beginning with Lorta, we have attacked such worlds as Eriadu, Naboo, and Lyran IV, where a group of smugglers harbouring a fugitive was destroyed. We have completely obliterated much of the inter-sector economy, and more than effectively announced ourselves to the Galaxy,” said Darth Revenous, standing tall and firm before the eyes of each Sith Lord, and, most importantly, the Empress Chick, daughter of Empress Dell.

Empress Chick had only recently assumed her role as leader of the Empire, after killing Lord Supremus, the Sith Lord responsible for the death of her brother, Cal Zavier, who she still missed terribly. For the mean time she was in more of an advisory role, more of a figurehead than a leader, as she still learnt how to effectively run the Empire. Nevertheless, the power she held in her grip was enormous. She had command over one of the largest Empires the Galaxy had seen, and most probably the most powerful.

“With these taxations on the economy, the remnants of the Old Galactic Empire barely surviving, soon to be completely eradicated, I suggest we thrust the dagger through their heart, so to speak. I propose we attack the Tibanna Gas world, Bespin. It would be an immense strike into the heart of the remnant, and even if it were to fail, the damage done would be sufficient. With our Empire finally revealing itself, we will finally be able to bring the ancient homes of the Sith, such as Korriban, Ziost, and Thule, into our rule, and cast away the shackles of any possible resistance.

“Ever since Darth Crusher’s death during the strike on Anoat where a surprisingly large Imperial force had amassed, I have led this campaign strongly, not loosing a single craft, and only ten thousand men. This final strike will hammer the final nail into the Old Galactic Empire’s coffin, putting an end to the Imperial’s attempted return. I ask your permission to lead this strike personally from the ground rather than from in space with Grand Admiral Lanik as I have the previous worlds.”

Lanik, the young boy who had long ago fought well on Lorta, better than even the Grand Admiral of the time, had been promoted in reply to Astra’s disgrace. Only four years after becoming a fully fledged member of the Sith Navy, he was promoted to Grand Admiral, at only nineteen, proving his prowess. As far as Revenous knew, Astra now lived far from the capital city in “retirement”. Revenous had worked his way silently up the ranks for quite a while, watching in awe at the power of Lanik, motivating him to work even harder. At news of Crusher’s death, Revenous had put in a request to take his place, a request that Supreme Commander Minious had been more than eager to accept.

“As you stated, you have proven yourself more than a dozen times, on many exotic worlds,” Zero’s cool voice cut through the silence, his assessing eyes flicking over Revenous, putting him on the spot as he had so often whilst Revenous was merely an Apprentice, and so many others. “I would give my vote for you to launch the final strike. You’ve given astute reasons, and I would agree whole-heartedly.”

Revenous turned, facing the rest of the Council, more emboldened now that he had one Council Member’s support. Quite often even just one voice of assent of dissent could sway the entire Council to that path of reasoning, and, though he dare not say it aloud, Revenous secretly feared this weakness.

“I would also agree,” Lord Tontie said, his cool and calm features had remained passive through the entire meeting, soaking in all information before calmly making an assessment.

“As do I,” Lord Minious said, nodding.

“And I,” Empress Chick said, as Darth Revenous had predicted she would, as the others turned to face her, awaiting her final say on the matter. Even with nearly the entire Council in one frame of mind about an issue, only one Council Member had to support her to sway a vote. “This is the beginning of a glorious reign for our glorious Empire. The prophecy of old created by Darth Nosiop shall prevent us from immediately expanding the Empire in all directions, but a control over even just a part of the Galaxy would be supremely beneficial for us all.”

Darth Revenous, High General of the Sith Military, bowed before the Council, at its smallest – yet most powerful – since the Empire had first initiated the idea of a Sith Council thousands of years before. “Then I shall begin my preparations. We shall launch within the next month, but I shall of course announce it to you before we leave. My thanks, Lords, and Empress.”

Xander Vos

Chapter Three

**24 ABY**

Bespin – Outer Atmosphere

Lyn piloted the Martial-class shuttle into the high atmosphere of Bespin with ease. Xander and Padmé Dral, an aged Jedi Knight with years of experience - who had only remained at the junior rank because she had no need of any sense of greatness - sat behind him. They were relaxed as they allowed Lyn to control the craft that would carry them to their latest mission for the Jedi Council. Xander had only met Padmé a few years ago but had already mustered a great deal of respect for her.

Only a week ago the Council had asked the three to inspect the gas canisters on Bespin. Whilst three Jedi Knights would normally be over the top for such a simple mission, Lyn and Xander were still learning how to act without a Master, and Padmé had agreed to help them as an observer only.

The Jedi Temple received most of its fuel from the Tibanna gas canisters, and once every few years, a Jedi Knight, or a pair of Jedi Knights, was sent to inspect them in case there had been tampering, or anything of the sort. This fear had increased ever since the Thespis incident, even though no further attempts to damage the Jedi Order had occurred, and since then, a patrol was sent every five months. Apparently Lyn and Xander had drawn the short straws and were asked to partake the mission.

Padmé walked over to stand behind Lyn in the small cabin, placing a calming hand on his shoulder. “This is just a routine mission Lyn, no need to be tense. By the time we land we just need to check twenty canisters, look over the contract with the administrator, and be on our way.”

“I know, I know,” Lyn murmured, his eyes darting in between the clouds, half expecting a fleet of Star Destroyers to burst forth and spew fire on them, “I just get the feeling that there’s danger coming. I just can’t explain it.”

Xander glanced at Lyn’s face. When Padmé had spoken up of Lyn’s uncomfortableness, he had been surprised. Lyn hadn’t betrayed any emotion to him through the Force, and there was nothing odd about the way he was flying to tell of anything worrying him, and yet Padmé had been able to pick up – rightly so – on a tenseness that Lyn was subtly emitting. Xander sighed. Despite being a Knight he still had a lot to learn.

The shuttle flew quietly down, the clouds dissolving around the wings of the craft, forming water vapour on the craft. Hissing softly the Martial-class shuttle settled down on the landing pad that had been reserved for the Bespin Enclave. Of course, to the administrators of this particular gas platform, they were merely private clients. The Council was always careful, even loyal miners of the Tibanna gas who had shipped the gas to them for decades didn’t know their true identity.

Standing, Xander ruffled Lyn’s hair, trying to calm his friend. “Just relax, nothing will happen. Routine mission: in, out, home. Like Master Padmé said, nothing to worry about.”

Anoat System

High General Revenous stood on the bridge of Grand Admiral Lanik’s Super Star Destroyer Doom. The craft cruised through space as the technicians prepared the information for the final Hyperspace jump that would bring them out right on top of the gas giant Bespin.

He turned to look at the Grand Admiral himself, who was ablaze with motion, whirling around from his viewport to order about the crew upon the ship, and the comm technicians who would then transmit orders to his fifteen Admirals on each of the fifteen Star Destroyers. Lanik’s crisp Grand Admiral uniform was spotless, and as stiff as a board. The medals clipped to the front displayed honours from far off worlds where he had proved himself first as an Ensign, then as an Admiral, and most recently as a Grand Admiral. Revenous shook his head as he allowed a wry smile to his lips. It still astounded him that one so young could be as brilliant as Lanik was. When he was no older than a boy, Lanik had stood strong where former-Grand Admiral Astra had failed, killing many on Lorta’s surface, only fleeing in the face of a Jedi Master, whom even Darth Crusher had struggled against.

Lanik turned, noticing that Revenous was looking at him. He walked slowly over to the High General, and although their differences in age, Revenous took a step back. Ever since meeting Lanik in person he had been slightly intimidated by the Grand Admiral who stood three inches taller than Revenous. He was especially intimidated aboard Lanik’s capital ship, where all the personnel were deadly loyal to the Grand Admiral over everyone else, even the Empress.

“The navigation systems have been set. We are ready to leave for Bespin any minute now. You mentioned earlier that something was troubling you, what was it?” Lanik said, the authoritative air about him that had been summoned as he walked towards Revenous vanishing as he spoke to Revenous as a friend, not a fellow officer.

“I don’t know. Recently I’ve been feeling confused,” Revenous said, feeling the words tumbling out of his mouth and they disgusted him. They made him sound like a coward, not the powerful High General that he was. “The Council has been betrayed. Our Empress killed a fellow Councilman. The same Councilman killed the Empress’ brother. I feel the further down this track the Sith go, the more towards self-destruction we tread. Something must be done to pull the Empire together once more. I only hope that this battle proves enough to boost our morale enough to return us to our former glory.”

“I understand what you’re saying,” Lanik said, “But now isn’t the time for such concerns. The Council can command us even if it is on the brink of internal warfare, and we are bound to carry those orders out. Whether we like it or not, we will serve the Council until we die if we hope to call ourselves true Sith.”

“You’re right but-” Revenous started.

“Stop,” Lanik said, a strange tone creeping into his voice. “I sense a presence – weak, perhaps far away, but there nonetheless - I haven’t felt since I was a young boy... It was,” he struggled to put a face to the presence he sensed, “It was a young boy on Lorta, during our first battle of the Sieges. He was strong in the Force, but try as I might, he wouldn’t come with me to the Sith. Despite being young and untrained he was strong enough to resist the pull of the Dark Side. I almost killed him, but the Jedi arrived and Crusher and I were forced to flee. Perhaps I sense his presence because he is close to us, maybe on Bespin itself. If he is, he shall not escape this time.”

Revenous stared forward, biting his lip to contain the arguments he wanted to spill forth, reserving himself as he knew he should, and as Lanik had ordered him to. Whilst they were of the same rank and Lanik hadn’t officially said anything, Revenous knew when he was being asked to follow a command, and Revenous was not about to argue about the powers of their corresponding ranks on the bridge of Lanik’s capital ship.

“I wouldn’t know, I can’t sense him,” Revenous said, and suddenly felt Lanik summon the authoritative air around himself once again.

“Prepare for the jump,” Lanik said, his eyes taking in Revenous’ confusion, flicking over his passive features, before turning back to shout to his men that they were heading out, and that they must prepare for the battle ahead.

Bespin – Tibanna Gas Platform 1365A

Lyn walked slightly ahead of Xander and Padme, who were calmly walking at their own pace. Lyn, however, was on edge, and was constantly tugging at his robe as if it were choking the air from his lungs. Drops of sweat rolled slowly down his brow, and a quick swipe of his hand removed them every few seconds.

“Lyn, relax,” Xander said, hiding his grin at his friend’s nervousness, “Its not as if some inter-Galactic monster is about to gobble us up, calm down. Sure, get nervous on a mission behind enemy lines, but this? This is nothing. This is-,”

He broke off, and stared up, where the ominous white-grey triangles of the Imperial Star Destroyer had emerged, fifteen in total, and an enormous one – which Xander assumed was the Super Star Destroyer.

Lyn spun back to them, glaring at them both for doubting him. Xander sighed in defeat, knowing he had been wrong. “This is trouble,” he finished. The trio spun around, racing back the way they had come. “Get to the transport,” Xander called, “I’ll try to find something with a little more firepower to take them down. Meet up with me once I do and transfer across. Where do you keep your fighters?” He fired at their guide who had gone into a panic.

“In our h-hanger. This w-way,” he stuttered, and raced off with Xander in quick pursuit. Xander ducked under piping, flipped up stairwells, and managed to reach the hanger, which was on the other side of the platform in less than ten minutes.

His eyes darted around, trying to find something that could help them, and they locked onto a gleaming YT-2400 craft, the sleek design standing out from the other dirtier craft. He headed towards it, but stopped. He turned, “What are the ignition codes?”

“I can’t give you them. I just can’t,” babbled the aid, backing up, “That’s our most prized fighter. Its pilot would loose his mind if it went missing, or get so much as a scratch on it.”

“Do you understand what’s happening?” Xander almost shouted, “The Sith are invading! And you’re worried about scratching this craft? Now, I’ll ask you again,” said Xander, in a more gentle tone, whilst still maintaining the pitch – now straining to be heard above the fighter alert alarms sounding out, and the launches of craft, “What are the ignition codes?”

The aid glanced at him, and wiped his brow nervously. Finally he gave up, and reached into his pocket, fumbling with his datapad, and transferred the codes to Xander datapad. Xander nodded at the aid in thanks, and raced up the quickly descending ramp into the cockpit. He clicked his datapad into the port, and watched in relief as the thrusters fired into life.

Hoping it would run without a pre-flight check, he lifted off, gliding through the low atmosphere, unconsciously glancing up at the quickly encroaching Imperial craft. Swarms of black dots were belching from the craft, and Xander knew they had little time before those dots would get close enough to form into the larger forms of TIE Fighters.

“Lyn? Padme? Where are you?” He shouted into the speaker, flicking to the frequency used by the Bakuran Enclave.

“No need to shout Xander, we’re right below you, the shuttle doesn’t want to start. I’m thinking that that aid tampered with it,” Lyn said, suspicion creeping into his voice.

Xander rolled his eyes, “Lyn, get over it. Not everyone is out to kill us. Only the Sith, and that man was certainly not a Sith. Probably just ran out of fuel, or an engine is acting up. Now, as soon as I set down, I want you two onboard and manning the turrets as quickly as you can. Those TIEs will be here any minute, and I need to be able to concentrate on contacting the Council.”

“Will do,” said Lyn, and clicked the comm channel to indicate that all had been confirmed. Xander settled the YT craft down on the landing pad, squeezing in next to the larger Martial-Class shuttle. He drummed his fingers on the control panel as the boarding ramp hissed down to clang on the metal of the pad.

“All secure,” came Padmé’s voice over the inter-comm channel minutes later, as the pair settled into their turrets. Unlike its predecessor the YT-2000, the YT-2400 had resumed the side cockpit of the earlier models, and was easily modified. This one had an above average amount of laser canons – the two the 1300 had had, at the top and bottom, but also a third positioned above a slightly lowered engine, allowing three gunners maximum, a co-pilot to man the anti-fighter gun at the front, and the pilot. Xander cursed the Force that a ship of this potential couldn’t use it.

Xander flipped through the channels, finding the secure hyper-wave transmission channel for the Bakuran Enclave. As the craft rose into the air, he spoke desperately into it, “Green Base, this is Echo One. We need help. Repeat, in desperate need of help. Sith forces have appeared over head, and no escape vector apparent. Send aid, and my mentor if at all possible.”

Static met his message, and Xander shook his head in despair, repeating the message. Keeping an eye on the sky, he tensed as the first TIE squadron came into range, small sensors pinging as it picked up these new craft, and Xander quickly gave them the appropriate designations. The craft shook slightly as each turbolaser fired bolts into the TIEs, eradicating the squadron in seconds, even as they quickly tried to retreat in the face of such deadly accuracy. Two more squadrons, much more cautious this time, quickly appeared in its place, and Xander was forced to flip through the air to avoid return fire at his communication dish. The two squadrons formed up into one large squadron, and Xander was forced to spend one of his limited concussion missiles wiping out a large number of them, spinning the rest away and making them easy targets for Lyn and Padmé. Even as they finished eliminating the last craft, five more squadrons – albeit with less TIE Fighters in each – flew down, intent on wiping them out and avenging their former comrades. Without help they wouldn’t last an hour.

Xander Vos

Chapter Four

**24 ABY**

Bespin – Inner Atmosphere

“Green Base, this is Echo One. We need help. Repeat, in desperate need of help. Sith forces have appeared over head, and no escape vector apparent. Send aid, and my mentor, if at all possible.” Xander repeated, clenching his teeth as an explosion sounded on the hull from a TIE bomber squadron’s recent attack. Lyn and Padmé fired reflexively, destroying two of the sluggish bombers, but the sheer amounts of fighters were quickly overwhelming them.

For the last twenty minutes Xander had been flying through sheer skill and the skin of his teeth to avoid death. Luckily the Gas Platforms own defences were attracting more attention for the Sith than one lone fighter. If any of his communications had gotten through to the Jedi, they should have been at Bespin by now, but with no change in the battle, things had obviously gone differently. Another strike like the one they had suffered from the Bombers and they were done for. He shook his head in confusion. What had tipped off the Sith to their location? And even at that, why would they send an entire fleet to kill just three Jedi? Xander knew the Sith knew they had returned, but they couldn’t possibly have discerned the Jedi’s homeworld, or there would have been a full scale attack. Could it be the fuel this planet supplied the Jedi? What if the Sith weren’t here for the Jedi at all and it was another battle in their Outer Rim Sieges?

Xander shook his head to clear it of such thoughts. They were dangerous in this heavy battle, and he needed all his focus on destroying the fighter squadrons, and holding on until the Council sent help. If all else failed, though, he would be forced to launch a suicidal attack on the Super Star Destroyer in the hope of knocking out their leader. Futile, he knew, but if they were to die, he would die with the satisfaction that they had seriously inconvenienced the Sith, even if at nothing more they damaged the Super Star Destroyer, or even just rattled it and gave more chance of success to the local defence.

“Lyn, focus fire on the incoming TIE Phantoms, with shielding they are more formidable than those TIE Fighters. Padmé, those bombers are getting too close, take them out,” Xander said, flipping the craft on its side as he fired the forward laser, causing two TIE Fighters to veer into each other, and a third swerve off, into a stray laser blast from Lyn’s canon. “Scratch three,” Xander said, grinning.

“Hey! That third one was mine,” Lyn said, as he spun his turret around, raking fire over a TIE fighter and its wingman.

“No! My blast destroyed it, therefore my kill,” Xander said laughing at the growl from Lyn over the comm. His laughter died and he sobered. Despite the much needed distraction they were still in the middle of a battle they were fast losing. The third turret was at fifty percent, any more damage and it would have to be replaced rather than repaired, the shield generator had fallen into the red at only twenty percent, and the engines were straining on only seventy percent. This baby would need a whole heap of repairs.

Xander allowed himself a slight chuckle, he was already thinking of this craft as his own, and he didn’t even own it. He’d always wanted a craft to replace the last one he had owned – the only one he had owned – his X-Wing, because the craft he and Jysek had used to escape Kinyen couldn’t really be considered his, and if it was, it was more of an embarrassment than a ship, the way its engines had let out so quickly.

“We’ll see what they say, hey baby?” He murmured, rubbing the control panel affectionately, hoping if they survived the Council would grant him this one favour.

“Did you say something Xander?” Padmé said, her voice tense as a fresh wave of attacking craft screamed over head.

“Nothing,” Xander said, turning his attention back to the fight, quickly flipping onto his side to avoid a barrage of proton torpedoes from a TIE Bomber.

Bespin – Hangar Bay 19

High General Revenous swerved a blast of flame as a TIE Fighter near his Sith Fighter detonated brilliantly. His shields flickered, and recovered to full strength. Targeting a turbo-laser turret guarding the hangar, he squeezed the trigger beneath his fingers, and watched in satisfaction as his damage indicator showed the tower’s power percentage down from one hundred percent to only fifty percent, Revenous’ powerful lasers ripping through the durasteel.

Revenous’ wing mates let loose with their own volleys, and the tower ripped apart like an over-ripe juma fruit. “Good work men,” Revenous said, congratulating them as they regrouped. Around them the battle was heavily one-sided, the hangar collapsing under heavy barrages of fire. Finally, a final volley of bombs from a TIE bomber squadron smashed through the ceiling, collapsing the hangar in on itself, preventing the ten Z-95 Headhunters, three X-Wing fighters, and one A-Wing from lifting off if their pilots had ever arrived.

“Sir, four TIE Squadrons report that they have intercepted a YT-2400 craft bearing pirate marks near platform 1365A. They report heavy casualties already, roughly estimated at six TIE Squadrons and two TIE Bomber squadrons, as well as one TIE Phantom Squadron. They believe that this craft has some sort of extraordinary being aboard the craft, because of its high performance levels, possibly even Jedi. Suggestions?”

Revenous stared forward, thinking. There were many more targets that Darth Minious had ordered eliminated, and Grand Admiral Lanik had told him to put these above all else. But this lone craft had already cost them casualties far higher than the rest of their casualties combined, and coupled with Lanik’s mention of a strong Jedi he had encountered years ago, and his desire for him to meet his end, Revenous doubted there would be complaints if he eliminated the craft. The opportunity to destroy this Jedi, or multiple Jedi as he was beginning to suspect from the description, was too tempting to pass up. He opened his comm channel again.

“Torga, take over. Eliminate targets in order of priority, and then regroup back at the Doom. I shan’t be long, and wasting time aiding me could prove costly if the Jedi is as good as Silver Nine claims. Only one with the aid of the Force such as myself could hope to eliminate them. It would be suicide for you.”

“Yes sir,” Torga said, not even betraying a hint of resentment at Revenous’ otherwise stinging analysis. Torga was a loyal soldier, and a fearsome pilot. He knew where his skills lay, and they were certainly not in something such as the Force.

Revenous nodded. He shifted Torga’s name on his datapad, calling for a promotion from Wingman to Squad Leader. He had shown much skill to prove that he was ready for such a promotion, and although that meant he would be leading a squadron of his own with no help from Revenous, he knew he would do well.

Revenous steeled himself for the fight ahead. Even with the added support of those four TIE squadrons, the Jedi had proved already that he or she was accurate with laser turrets, with or without the Force, and this could very well turn into a struggle for his life.

Bespin – Inner Atmosphere

Xander spun the craft on its axis, as he struggled to avoid a fresh barrage of fire. The shield generator was losing power at a constant rate now, and within two minutes it would be at critical. Whatever spare power he had, Xander diverted to the shields, but he knew it was only a matter of time before he was forced to land or be shot out of the sky.

“Xander, the turbolasers are showing low power signs, what do we do?” Lyn said, “Keep fighting or what?”

“Keep fighting,” Xander called back, “If we don’t stop them, we’re dead, you got that?” He shouted sharply.

“Alright, alright,” Lyn muttered, “No need to snap.”

“Lone fighter heading in, of unknown design, but four squadrons of TIEs seem to be following it at a discreet distance, keep your eyes open,” Padmé called, and Xander glanced down at the Friend-or-Foe radar screen and saw a lone orange blip appear. He frowned. At last they were actually taking them seriously – this fighter was coming from the hangar, meaning it had been told of them. But why only send one? And what kind of ship was this? It looked nothing like the TIE fighters.

It was bulkier, and somewhat resembled the Sith Fighter of the Old Republic era – or what relics of them remained. Instead of a single pair of wings, it contained two pairs, much like an X-Wing, although its style held the style of the old Sith Fighter’s wings. The cock-pit was bulky, where a shield generator and hyperdrive appeared to be settled, if the YT-2400’s designator was functioning correctly. What kind of fighter had the hyperdrive and shield generator on the outside? It left them vulnerable to attack. Perhaps a stronger shield had boosted the Sith Empire’s confidence that this craft wouldn’t be destroyed easily.

“Keep your eyes open for that fighter,” Xander said, “Put it to the top of priorities – the both of you.”

“Roger,” Lyn and Padmé said in unison, switching to dual fire, and flashing it with fire at every turn. The craft spun, weaved, dived, and feinted, anticipating every laser that came at it, even before they were fired. This was interesting.

“Its a Sith,” Xander said, and from the affirmatives Lyn and Padmé gave, Xander guessed they had come to the same conclusion. “Be very careful, he is not to be taken lightly. Take out the shield generator and hyperdrive, he’ll be heavily crippled and easily defeated.”

“Easier said than done,” grunted Lyn, “Its hard to lay a shot on him! And even if we do, the shield generator would just recharge!”

The craft shuddered, and Xander glanced at the readings, sweat forming on his forehead again, as the shield generator fell into the red. “We have to land!” He shouted, “Any longer and we’ll be shot out of the sky. At least on the ground we can take them by surprise, and as long as we stay away from the gas canisters, we can’t really be taken out from the air.”

“Alright, but make sure they don’t follow us,” said Padmé, firing at the Sith craft as it followed them tightly. Scoring a lucky shot, she held down her trigger, and several further shots followed as the craft seemed visibly surprised by the hit. Padmé let out a rarely seen surge of passion as a bout of flame poured from the craft, and the shield generator rattled loose.

“Shields are down!” Xander said, “Fire at that hyperdrive!” He grinned, but struggled to maintain it as he pulled hard on the yoke, keeping the craft from plowing through the platform. “I’m taking her in, prepare for emergency landing!”

Screeching to a stop, he sliced through the transparisteel with his blade, leaping out, not bothering to waste time with the ramp, knowing any second could be his last. He turned, calculating the distance to the Sith craft, which was still being fired at by Lyn, who was on the top, but Padmé had also cut through the transparisteel on her canon and was jogging to meet Xander. It turned, noticing Xander out on his own and fired at him once, twice, and Xander’s green blade surged to life, and swung and spat as it blocked the blasts back, knocking Xander to the ground, but smashing into the craft, sending flames through the cockpit. The pilot shielded himself, pushed a button by his seat, and ejected from the dying craft even as Lyn jumped from his seat as well.

Xander leaped from the ground to the craft, and from the craft to the pilot who had lit a ruby blade. He swiped at the man, knocking him from the ejector seat, and the two fell back to the ground, where Lyn and Padmé had made their way into cover and stood waiting. The man was breathing heavily as he hit the ground, and stood, pushing Lyn away through the Force, and striking Xander in the head as he landed, knocking him to the ground.

Padmé slashed at the man, graceful in her movements, but deadly. She ducked under him, knocking his chin with the butt of her lightsaber. He spun away, coming in again to attack. Xander rose, wiping blood from his cheek, and made sure Lyn was alright. The two watched the pair duelling, panting slightly from only a moment fighting with the man, and Padmé was outlasting him, gaining the upper hand.

Finally, the battle seemed over as Padmé pushed the man to the ground, smashing his lightsaber away, and Xander marched forward, as the man fell to the ground, and held his lightsaber blade to the man’s chin, preventing him from rising again.

“In the name of the Jedi Bakuran Enclave, for justice in the Galaxy and to avenge the deeds of evil, I, Xander Vos, place you in the custody of the Jedi Order,” he said. From the pouch on his belt, Xander produced a pair of stun-cuffs, and clipped them to the man’s wrists as he spat angrily in Xander’s face.

“Its no use,” the man said, defeatedly, “You can’t win. Our forces will be stopped by nothing short of an armada, and the Jedi Order doesn’t seem to have them in their back pocket.”

“He’s right,” Lyn said, pointing into the air, “Look.”

Above them, twelve new triangles had appeared, much larger than the Imperial Star Destroyers, although smaller than the Super Star Destroyer. What were these? A new weapon the Empire had developed?

“We’re doomed,” Xander said, sinking to his knees as the man behind him began to laugh, a cruel, sinister laugh.

Unknown Location

“Good, good, the anger swelling in you is good, it is strong. Use it, destroy the training droids with nothing more than your mind. Your power is that great,” The Master said, chuckling as his Apprentice rose to fight. Prisoner 112A – he knew no other name – concentrated, raising his hands, bringing forth the power he had learnt to harness, and the droids shook, crumpling under his might, and spinning into each other, erupting into huge balls of flame as they hit. Several however, survived his concentration.

They raised, and armed their lasers, targeting the figure who had already left his former location, and spun to face them from the opposite side of the room. He raised the palm of his hand, absorbing the first laser bolt that was fired, stopping the second and sending it shooting back into its sender, destroying it immediately.

With only two droids of the original seven remaining, the odds had drastically increased for 112A, and he allowed a confident, arrogant smirk to rise to his face.

“Excellent work,” The Master said, from the observation booth above the room, standing tall in his grey robe, the hood spread back over his shoulders. His wispy black hair showed his age in the form of a slowly increasing bald spot in the middle of his head, although it remained long and powerful at the back. His brown eyes showed a depth to his character that on the surface appeared to be non-existent. 112A had spent the last few months learning the depth of The Master, and how much he had actually been through in his life.

The Master had been orphaned at a young age, his parents murdered by raiders to his village. In his anger The Master had killed them, proving to the Universe he was pure evil. According to The Master, he had established a training facility in the far depths of the Galaxy, aboard a ship, where he trained Apprentices once at a time, and it was now 112A’s turn. He explained away 112A’s memories of a bacta tank as an injury 112A had sustained during a training exercise that had resulted in memory loss, and even hallucinations, which is where his experiences as a prisoner had come from.

112A believed him – what else could he do? He knew no other life, and the plausible explanation The Master had provided was entirely believable. He struggled to separate the hallucinations he had suffered from reality, and still struggled to remember what had happened before the accident.

He shook his head clear, he needed to concentrate on the battle. One of the droids struck him with the laser, burning his arm, and he growled for losing his concentration. He clenched his teeth and his eyes drew together, and he raised his hands, letting loose a primal scream. A slight burning resulted, and the droids erupted into electric blue fire, and 112A realised it was resulting from the power emerging from his finger tips. He released the energy, and the droids collapsed to the floor.

“Very good, you are learning well. That power was Force Lightning, one of the most powerful Dark Side techniques if you can master it correctly,” The Master said, cackling evilly, “Very soon you shall be ready to take your rightful place as a full Sith, and then the Galaxy shall know true doom.”

Xander Vos

Chapter Five

**24 ABY**

Bespin – Orbit

Twelve Star Defenders, four Corellian Corvettes, and a few wings of fighters. That was the extent of the Enclave’s battle-group. It outnumbered the fleet the Sith had amassed, but they had eight of them. Eight. With even just three they would be able to rip apart the Jedi’s defences, and destroy the Order. The only thing saving them was the unknown location of the Jedi’s Temple.

Koras Aldamar stood upon the bridge of the Guardian, watching as his ships manoeuvred into position as they converged on the Sith, who were quickly setting up escape vectors. Since most of their fighters were engaged planet side, the Sith were intelligent enough to realise when they were overpowered, and that a fight would just prolong the inevitable.

Only an hour ago they had received Xander’s distress call, and rather than reply, the Council had wasted no time in dispatching Shatterpoint and himself to prevent the deaths of three Jedi Knights. Xander had also requested Vikro, but he had been unavailable. The Sanctuary Pipeline and Corellian Trade Spine Hyperspace routs had cut the normal journey between the two planets if he had flown through normal hyperspace – which would have been five or six hours, too late to save them – down to under an hour. The fleet had materialised as planned, and a declaration of surrender had been received by the Sith.

On the gas platforms below – which were nothing more than specks from the bridge of the Star Defender – hordes of TIEs – Bombers, Phantoms, and Fighters alike – broke rank and fled back to their capital ships, after witnessing the appearance of the mammoth like Defenders. They must have been confused about the allegiance of the craft, but their Friend-Or-Foe monitors did that for them.

The Defenders were an odd design. Although bearing a similar naming sequence to the Destroyers used by the Sith, the Defenders had only been sketched out twenty years ago, with the first constructs put into action only ten years ago. The Mon Calamari cruisers had been designated Defenders to highlight their more benign function. Accessing their huge funds that they amassed every year through gifts of gratitude from planets they had aided – over the past three thousand years – the Order had placed orders for fifteen Defenders, of which twelve had so far been produced and delivered, fitted with droid crews as the Order had specified.

As of course there was no way for the Order to employ non-Jedi, the majority of their fleet was droid-run, with even the starfighters fitted with special jacks for either droid or organic use. The Sith, however, didn’t know this, and assumed an entirely organic crew was at the helm of the great ships of war that were bearing down on them.

Of the twelve, ten of the Star Defenders were Strident-class, with the other five – three already and a further two to come – were Viscount-class, large and powerful enough to take on a Super Star Destroyer. Koras cursed inwards that they wouldn’t be able to see this potential with the population capacity the Order had. There was the occasional smuggler or pilot who offered their aid to the Temple, who the Temple would give shelter to on Bakura, and they were given heavy training and then promoted to the highest position onboard the craft. Whilst the lack of personnel was a disadvantage, Koras was still much relieved that they finally had a formidable fleet with which to attack and destroy two Sith fleets at once. Any more, however, and they may not last the battle.

Koras looked across to the Star Defender flanking his to the right, the Protector. Although he could not see the slim, attractive woman on the bridge, he could sense his wife, Shatterpoint’s, strong presence guiding the droids through their tasks as they prepared to cut off the Sith who had foolishly launched an attack.

Two Star Destroyers, clearly against the commands orders, had broken off the retreat, and were bearing down on three Star Defenders, the Temple, Feleah, and the Purity. The three craft had the advantage over the pair, in so far as they clearly intimidated the Star Destroyers, which were firing ion canons only, hoping to quickly take out the shields and weapons. In reality, half the turrets on the three lay dormant, the other half only charged to half power, most power on all Defenders sent to the shield instead.

Shatterpoint’s craft bore down on the two Destroyers, the Protector’s lasers fired menacingly, smashing through the two tinier craft’s shield as the three Stridents added to the barrage. Before long, the two craft switched to lasers, and concussion missiles, firing at the weakening shield of the Feleah. Breaking through, ripples of fire appeared across its surface as its canon emplacements slowly evaporated under the unending barrage of fire.

A bright flare of light that forced the viewport on the bridge to tint and Koras to look away, signified the detonation of one of the Star Destroyers. Realising its impending doom, the destroyed Star Destroyer’s counterpart tried to turn tail and flee, and was punished as turbolaser canons pinpointed its engines, blowing it apart.

“That’s the last of them,” Koras said, smiling, as the Sith fleet jumped into Hyperspace, winking out of existence. “Damage report.”

“Roger,” a droid said, clicking its mandibles against screens in front of it, bringing up figures, “Sage reports shields at eighty percent, two turbo-lasers down to forty percent, and one engine grid down to seventy percent. Golte reports no damage. Cion reports one turbo-laser destroyed, one engine at ninety percent. Trinity reports shields at eighty percent, two engines at sixty-five and eighty-two percent respectively. Elitha reports no damage. Ghost reports no damage. Seraphic reports no damage. Purity reports no damage. Temple reports one damaged turbo-laser canon at seventy-three percent. Feleah reports three canons damaged, and two concussion tubes at ten percent. Our craft has taken no damage, nor fired a single shot. Protector reports no damage. The corvettes stayed out of range and escaped any harm.”

Koras sighed in relief. Those damage reports were repairable. They had lost none of their fleet. Nothing critical had occurred amongst their craft, and aside from a few engines and shields, the damage was solely in the laser canons.

“Sir, we are receiving a transmission from an incoming craft,” a droid said, “Patching it through.”

“Master Koras! Glad to see you made it,” Padmé Dral’s very much alive voice came through, and Koras could see the grin plastered on her face. The adrenaline from the battle mixed with the relief at survival had caused strange effects in the three, and Koras could hear Xander and Lyn whooping for joy in the background.

Koras smiled, “Docking Bay 49 is all yours Padmé, come aboard and meet me on the bridge, and you can tell me all about it.”

Xander Vos

Chapter Six

**24 ABY – One Week After Bespin’s Invasion**

Jedi Temple – Council Chambers

“Xander Vos, Lyn Korak, Padmé Dral. The three of you have together proven yourselves as formidable opponents to the Sith. You did not falter in the line of duty even when faced with overwhelming odds.” Grand Master Abba said, before a crowd of onlookers, who, despite the Council’s best attempts, had insisted on being present at this special Council meeting. Amongst the crowd there were several youngsters who hadn’t even been chosen to become Padawans, but their bravery in the face of punishment showed just how much they admired the trio’s efforts.

“Lyn Korak,” Abba said, turning her attention first to the shorter boy, who was fidgeting on the spot, nervous. Lyn had always been shy, and with so many people’s attention focussed primarily upon him, he had begun to fidget. “Master Kavar, before his journey away from the Temple, proved to have been a strong Master, training you, and fine tuning you to the will of the Force. If he were here today, he would indeed be proud,” Thunderous applause met this statement.

“I hereby declare that, if you so choose, you may take your own Apprentice. You are more than ready, and shall train him well. Whomever you choose will be the luckiest of the Initiates.”

Lyn blushed slightly and rubbed his shoulder, embarrassed. Composing himself he murmured his thanks to Abba, bowing slightly as she turned her attention to Padmé.

“Padmé Dral. Long have you been with us, and many an Apprentice have you trained. I doubt there is not one amongst the crowd here today who does not admire you in one form or another. You trained many Apprentices how to use their chosen Lightsaber Forms, and many others the history of our Order. And yet you deny yourself your true calling as a Jedi Master. Today, despite your persistence and insistence against such a move, the Jedi Council shall promote you to the rank of Jedi Master, if nothing else than to satisfy our need.”

Padmé grinned as if she was a little girl holding a bag of sweets, and moved forward, ignoring protocol, and wrapping Abba in a hug. The pair had trained together as Apprentices, and despite their differences in rank, they would always be friends first, Jedi second. “Thank you Abba,” she said, smiling through her face of tears.

Abba nodded, and turned her attention to the tall man standing next to her. Years ago he had come to the Temple, a round-faced and curious young boy. His eyes had held wisdom beyond his years, having faced many adventures that many aged Masters at the Temple had never had to face. He had seen his life-long friend cut down before his eye. And despite all that he had been lost and intimidated by the life of the Jedi.

Over the years he had grown, both physically and mentally under the rigorous discipline of Council Member Vikro. The pair had fought for the Order on many worlds, defending several others in space and on land, in space stations and underwater. And now, he stood before her, no longer the boy he had been, but a man, strong and true, standing tall and proud for his actions. The stubble on his face that he hadn’t shaved off since the adventure on Bespin as a vow not to forget what had transpired showed beyond a doubt that he was no longer a shiny faced youth, but a man, and a Jedi Knight.

“Xander Vos,” Abba said, choking back emotion, “You came to us many years ago, unsure of your path, and with no faith in yourself. Now, you are confident, with a direction in your life. You have matured before our eyes, and have proven our faith in you to be well placed. You have been unsure of your readiness to take your own Padawan, and the Council understands your grievances. However, we also believe you are ready. Xander Vos, the Jedi Council confers upon you the right to take a Padawan learner to teach in the ways of the Force.”

Xander bowed low, his head shaking hard as he fought back tears, bowing it low to conceal this fact, although Abba knew. She always knew. He looked up as the tears fell free, rolling down his cheeks. “Thank you, Master Abba. I have fought hard in the name of the Enclave so that others can live in peace. I have sacrificed so much so that others could live in comfort. And never will I hesitate to do so again. In all my power as a Jedi Knight, I promise to you, and the crowd gathered here, that I shall fight until the last breath leaves my body to defend this Temple.”

Abba nodded, and clapped, encouraging the crowd gathered to clap as well. Slowly, the crowd trickled out the doors, and back to their routines. Abba turned and took her seat, as the rest of the Council did so as well.

“I apologise that we couldn’t keep the crowd back Lyn,” Rive grinned, “I know how much you hate crowds.”

“I’ll live,” Lyn said, laughing slightly in the wake of such a momentous occasion.

“Now,” Vikro said, sobering, “We must discuss this Sith you brought back in captivity. You claim he was the High General of the Sith?”

“Yes,” Xander said, “His uniform bore the correct markings, and the craft that he flew suggested he was a person of importance. Once we had captured him, and Masters Koras and Asil arrived, the Sith fleet broke ranks and fled. Now, if he had been a Sith of lower rank, his commanding officer would have held the attack together and enacted more damage on the Enclave’s fleet. Because they didn’t, it leads me to believe that he was either the leading officer of the invasion, or one of them.”

“Very well,” Koras said, “What should be done with him? We have him in captivity, but he claims that ever since a few weeks ago he had begun to have doubts in the Sith, and wanted to convert to the Jedi. We believe it is some form of a lie to allow him to spy on us for his Sith Masters.”

“I don’t think so,” Lyn spoke up, “The way he was acting once we had captured him and were bringing him back suggested that he was almost relieved. I know that is easily faked, but even Master Padmé could sense something about him that suggested he was genuinely willing to convert.”

“Its true,” Padmé added, supporting Lyn, “I sensed no deception from him. I suggest we allow him to train as a Jedi, but that at the slightest inkling of deception, we halt his training and return him to captivity.”

Asil looked at Abba, who hesitated, “Very well,” she said finally, deciding, “If a Master is willing to train him we shall allow him to train as a Jedi.”

Bakura – Jedi Temple

After the meeting, Xander walked out of the Council chambers. After discussing Revenous – as they had learnt his Sith name to be - they had discussed the battle and what was to become of the craft Xander had used. They had agreed to allow him to keep it, and so was now currently undergoing repairs. He smiled at the thought of again having his own ship.

Xander glanced around. Many of the initiates from the gathering still gawked at him from along the hall. He tried to hide his grin. He remembered when he had been their size. New to the Temple, everyone appearing as strangers, and having experienced heavy trauma Xander had been alone, but for these youngsters, they had just witnessed heroes of the Jedi Order, the people they should aspire to become. Knowing what they had done on Bespin probably daunted many of them, and they under-estimated themselves.

Xander walked over to one of them, a human boy of no more than ten or eleven. He crouched by the initiate, and smiled at him. “What’s your name, son?” he asked, trying to help the boy get over his nerves.

“Leon, sir. Leon Danex,” the boy said, cleaning his datapad nervously, even though he didn’t glance down.

“I think its shiny enough Leon,” laughed Xander, and the boy glanced down, grinned sheepishly, and put his datapad back in his belt pouch.

“So how did you get to the Temple Leon?”

“Master Koras found me, sir. I was born on Nar Shadda, and that’s where I’ve lived. Only last year Koras rescued me and told me I had powers enough to become a Jedi. Is that true? Will you be my Master?” Leon said, almost impatiently, though still intimidated by Xander.

Xander frowned slightly, surprised at the boy’s impatience, “Perhaps,” he said gently, “We’ll see.”

He got up and moved off, finding a Kel Dor who was trying to pretend he was reading a holo-pad, but was sneaking glanced down the hall whenever he could.

“What’s your name?” Xander asked.

“Wes, Wes Odo, sir,” Wes said, grinning slightly.

“Now why do you want to be a Jedi?”

“I want to be a Jedi because I want to help people. On Dorin, there are so many accidents from our over-developed technology and the inability to control it, that I felt like I should help, but I never could. I want to learn to harness the Force to help people like my own species, but also the Galaxy itself.”

Xander nodded, satisfied. “Thank you, I will take that into consideration.”

“Does that mean you will train me? My first Master left half-way through my training.” Wes said, his eyes wide as saucers.

Xander snapped to attention. He had assumed Wes was an initiate, but on closer examination, he did appear to be about fifteen, or sixteen, Xander wasn’t sure when it came to Kel Dor physiology.

“Who was your Master?”

“Master Kavar, he trained your friend, Master Korak. He went into meditation and left me behind,” Wes said, downcast.

Xander smiled reassuringly, “Perhaps I will take you as my Padawan, we’ll see.”

He stood again, and nodded to himself. While Leon had lied slightly about his beginnings – Koras had been no where near Nar Shadda in the last year – he was strong in the Force, and could need rigorous training to quell his rebellious attitude. On the other hand, Wes had been genuine in his desire to aid people, although Xander had sensed that if he had answered the question about Apprenticeship in a less diplomatic way, Wes may have jumped to anger, and Xander had certainly sensed anger at his predicament. He certainly needed intensive training to undo the damage that Kavar’s rash leaving had caused. Xander was surprised that Kavar would do something like that. He hadn’t been aware that Kavar had taken another Apprentice yet since Lyn. Making up his mind, Xander headed off for a much needed rest.

He keyed in the code to his apartment, 23100, and entered, sighing as he settled down on his bed, smiling to himself, and ridiculed himself as small tears formed in his eyes. For once in his life, he was content with where he was.

Xander Vos

Chapter Seven

**26 ABY – A Year and Two Months After Bespin**

Jedi Temple – Council Chambers

“Wes Odo has been orphaned, so to speak, by Master Kavar. He trained Lyn Korak well, and should be commended for that. As well, his performance in the Ambush at Thespis was legendary, he defeated three scores of men on his own. However, his abandonment of Wes Odo is not highly regarded at all. His sudden departure for his home world of Sullust for ‘mediation’ came at an inconvenient time, and if not for Wes’ diligence could have sent the boy over to the Dark Side. I sensed it in him while I spoke to him about the possibility of becoming my Apprentice,” Xander said, standing in the centre of the Council chambers, feeling slightly vulnerable with the eyes of the seven Jedi Council Members.

He felt at ease slightly at the fact that amongst the seven, there was the possibility that two of them may have a special deposition to him. Obi-Tyler, recently added to the Council, and Vikro, had both trained him at different times, and a third, Padmé, who had taught him Ataru, was rumoured as a possible addition to the Council in years to come. Shatterpoint, as well, had found him, and Koras had saved his skin enough to regard him with fondness. But Abba, Rive and Jaden... Xander was unsure. Rive seemed comical enough, but Jaden and Abba stayed distant and unattached most times, the emotion Abba had conveyed at the meeting after the Invasion of Bespin a little over a year ago was the first that she had shown towards Xander. He had to be careful when picking his words against Kavar, or the Council could see it as a disrespect to a non-present Master and punish him.

“After further discussing issues with Wes, I believe that I am correct in my decision. I would like to take him as my Padawan learner with the Council’s permission. With his training half completed, he could prove a danger to others if not himself if not trained completely and properly.”

“Yes, we have discussed young Odo for a while now. Kavar’s desertion was a shocking one, and although he promised to return upon departure, we can only assume that the uncompleted training of his Apprentice reflected a failure on his part. Perhaps Knight Korak proved to be a more easy Padawan than Odo, and that he was confident, as Korak was his first Padawan, and was shocked at the challenge Odo produced. Whatever the reason, whether that be it, or nothing more than speculation, you are here, and Kavar is not.” Rive said, deep in thought.

“If I may,” Koras said, looking around, and gaining confidence, “I move to allow Xander Vos to resume Wes Odo’s training, until and when Wes becomes a Jedi Knight.”

“Aye,” the Council said in unison, and Xander smiled, happy to be training his first Padawan.

“Now, the official meeting shall be held with Wes present, but if he doesn’t complain, you are now Wes’ Master, congratulations,” Vikro said, smiling. His Padawan was now the Master, the circle was complete.

Bakura – Training Centre

Xander easily blocked a strike from Wes Odo, and flipped his lightsaber over so that it was below his Apprentice’s blade, pushing slightly and sending the Kel Dor’s blade clattering to the floor.

Xander shook his head, disappointed, “Did Master Kavar teach you nothing about lightsaber combat? I know of Younglings in the Bantha clan who could beat you at the rate you’re going.”

Wes bit his tongue in bitter disappointment, choking back a sharp response, “Master Kavar always thought that learning the ways of the Force was more important. ‘Know the Force, and your lightsaber becomes irrelevant.’ That’s what he told me. He thought if you could prevent a fight, your fighting skills needn’t develop.”

Xander was stunned speechless for a second before he regained control. This was the Kavar who had fought viciously in Thespis, killing more than his share of the ambushers, and yet apparently here he was telling Wes Odo that lightsaber skills were irrelevant.

“So what happens when you go up against a Sith, or someone who doesn’t care who you are, they just want to kill you? What good is the Force then? You need to be able to fight them hand to hand, lightsaber to lightsaber,” Xander said, stressing each word to convey their importance.

Wes mumbled something incoherent, staring at his feet.

Xander stared at him, daring him to speak up, “What was that? Say it louder.”

“I said I don’t know!” Wes said, practically shouting.

Xander stared at him disapprovingly. “Wes, your past Master may have done you injustices, but that is no reason to unleash your anger. It is one of the few emotions a Jedi should learn to let go of. Emotions are good, they help fuel us toward our goals, but emotions such as anger do nothing but embitter us and turn us against our allies.” Xander paused, and then continued in a more gentle tone, “I know Master Kavar has committed a serious error in your training, and if he ever returns I will personally see him held responsible for it, but there is absolutely no reason for you to take it out on me. You must see that.”

Wes rolled his eyes, and summoned his lightsaber back to his hand, demonstrating the extraordinary Force abilities he was already picking up, testament to just about the one good thing Kavar had done for him. “Whatever,” he said, marching from the room, ignoring any attempts by Xander to stop him.

Xander sighed, and shook his head, he had thought Wes would be a challenging, but cooperative student. Clearly he had been wrong. Already a rift was forming between them, one he wasn’t sure he could fix.

As he turned to leave the room, he saw Vikro leaning on the doorjamb, a wry smile on his face.

“Was I ever this difficult?” Xander said helplessly, walking over to his former Master.

“Every day of every year,” Vikro said, “You were actually worse because whenever you complained to me you had reason to.”

“I apologise with all my heart for any pains I cost you in the past,” Xander said, sighing, “I just hope every training session isn’t like this, I need to let him see what potential he has, and how to harness it.”

Chuckling, Vikro put a hand on Xander’s shoulder, “That’s the spirit, now, let’s continue this over a Corellian Brandy, my tongue’s parched after that Council Meeting. Some boring briefing on a treaty on some backwater world, or something like that.”

Xander smiled and nodded, following his old Master from the room. Vikro always knew just what to say to cheer him up, though Xander knew that to him Council Meetings were the most interesting part of his day. Perhaps things were looking up after all.

Xander Vos

Chapter Eight

**31 ABY**

Hyperspace – En route to Eriadu

“I knew Anakin wouldn’t remain a Jedi for long,” Lyn said, flopping back in his seat. Only a year prior, Anakin – Revenous’ real name – had abandoned the Order peacefully, announcing himself a Dark Jedi and beginning an organisation on Eriadu that was as of yet unnamed.

Following the Sith invasion of the planet twenty-five years ago, the planet's economics had been thrown into chaos, with several criminal organisations succeeding themselves as attempted governments for the planet. After leaving the Order, Anakin had arrived on the planet and had grouped several such groups to him, using his charismatic leadership to grow in control of the planet.

Currently he was even drawing in member states from off-world. Xander had heard with distaste that Black Haven – a criminal organisation he had been enslaved to for six months – was preparing to join Anakin.

“Hey, cut him some slack. From what I’ve seen of him, he’s really changed,” Xander said, sitting opposite his friend, “Just because he sees himself as more of a Dark Jedi should not be held against him. I mean, there have been worse conversions from the Temple in the past,” he said, flinching in memory of the violent leaving of Urwen, who was now reportedly Darth Embeion.

Lyn shrugged his shoulders placidly, “I guess you’re right, but still, I don’t understand what the Council sees in making an alliance with an outlaw. The Sith have reportedly stated that they will no longer accept him back into their ranks, and we certainly won’t accept him back considering some of the scathing remarks he had to say about Grandmaster Abba’s leadership skills and techniques.”

“We need all the allies we can get, and since Anakin knows our location, we really can’t afford to loose him as an ally. Its a relief we were able to wipe Urwen’s memory of our location, but we won’t be able to do that again, unless we are extremely lucky.”

“I know, but what if this is nothing more than a trap? Anakin used to be a Sith, how can we be certain he is trustworthy?” Lyn said, looking for the first time – as if only just noticing them – at Leon Danex and Wes Odo, who sat side-by-side, staring at their Masters as they became lost in their musings.

“Because he knows what we’re capable of, our fleet could easily crush his small band of followers,” Leon declared confidently, a smile on his face, knowing his Master would be impressed by his answer.

Lyn paused, shaking his head slightly, disapproving of Leon’s brash reply, “He also knows that since we are Jedi we would never attack an enemy that has not directly attacked them.”

“But if he kills us he would directly attack us, and as such the Council would neutralise any perceptible threat they found within his organisation, and send a new team to form an alliance. He would be foolish to decline twice. It is far more worthwhile teaching a possible ally a lesson than having to start over with a new group.” Wes said.

Xander nodded approvingly, and noticed that Leon sunk into his seat, glaring at his toes sullenly. At the awkward pause in the conversation, Xander made a loud movement as he stood, “I think we’re almost there, so strap in and I’ll set us down.”

Eriadu City – Eriadu

“Welcome Master Jedi,” Teretha Norn said, bowing courteously before the two Jedi Knights and their respective Apprentices. He noted that one of the Apprentices seemed to be almost rebellious, and mentally noted that. His master, Emperor Anakin had asked him to take note of any unusual behaviour in case it was to come to a fight if the meeting turned hostile. He drew his datapad and typed the information in, concealing the note by using it to call an air-speeder to take them to the Emperor’s palace.

The two Jedi Knights bowed, and after a pause, so did the two Apprentices. They proceeded to the vehicle, and as they settled in, one of the Jedi Knights, the one with longer hair, turned to his companion, who had short, dirty blonde hair, and murmured something in his ear. Teretha shifted uncomfortably, aware that if they decided that this was an ambush – which it wasn’t – they could kill him in the blink of an eye, faster that he could call for help, faster than he could take in the breath to call for help, faster than – he shook his head. He needed to stop thinking about it and concentrate on his duty.

The palace appeared before them as they turned right at the solid stone national archives building, appearing in all its grandeur. The towering spires of the recently built building caught the rays of the setting sun, sparkling beautifully as if possessed by an eternal flame that shone brilliantly from within. The huge pillars of the glass building were huge, thicker than even a Wookiee could wrap his arms around. Only the steeple of the building was metal and concealed from view. This was, supposedly to stop assassins from a clear view of the Emperor as he worked, but in actuality it was because it was the renovated bridge of Anakin’s old capital ship whilst he had been with the Kroprulan Sith Empire. Apparently whilst organising his move to Eriadu he had sent a request to the Empire that treated him as a hostile, boldly asking for his decommissioned ship’s hull. They had granted his request coldly, and Anakin had walked away with his troops inspired by his calm and cool nature in the face of large odds.

Teretha stopped the speeder on one of the higher level’s landing pads, and gestured for the Jedi to follow him off and towards the turbo-lifts that would carry them up to their meeting with the Emperor. The two Knights left the speeder without a word – and Teretha found this odd, they hadn’t said a word through the trip, though a gasp of wonder had escaped the Kel Dor’s lips before he clamped them shut in a move of self-control – and their Apprentices followed.

Teretha followed them obediently, used to following behind the more important individuals, but suddenly shook his head clear and rushed to the front, guiding them to their lift with a sheepish smile, almost forgetting that he was meant to be acting as the host.

As the Jedi stepped inside, he cleared his throat and tried to make conversation, “So, what’s it like at the Temple? Lots of Jedi there?”

The Jedi with the longer hair shot him an ice cold stare that made him shrivel up in his boots. “I mean, I wasn’t trying to find out where it is, I was just making conversation and I was just feeling awkward and,” Teretha babbled as the Jedi turned away again, and with a soft tone the lift doors opened again, and the Jedi stepped out, ignoring him. He cursed softly to himself at his stupidity, and rush ahead again, slapping the button to slide open the door into the antechamber of the Emperor’s main office. His secretary glanced up before double-taking and picking up her comlink, talking rapidly into it.

The door slipped open, and with a last glance at Teretha from the shorter Jedi Knight, the pair, with their Apprentices in tow, stepped into the Emperor’s office. Teretha looked away, embarrassed, and smiled bashfully at the secretary, who smiled back, before turning back to her duties.

Emperor Anakin’s Office – Eriadu City

Xander glanced around the huge room, taking in his surroundings as Lyn moved ahead of him, straight towards the four waiting chairs in front of the desk at which a very different man from the one they had shot down on Bespin five years ago sat.

“Ah, Xander, Lyn, and, Wes and Leon, correct?” He said with a smile, his arms opened wide invitingly as the four took their seats. Sharp nods from Wes and Leon indicated he had guessed their names correctly. In reality however, he had taken pictures of them along their journey and run it against all known Jedi Apprentices.

“Thank you Anakin, or should I say Emperor Anakin?” Xander said with a slight smile.

“No, no. For friends Anakin is just fine. Only the members of the soon to be finalised Outer Rim Syndicate need address me by my title,” Anakin said, grinning slightly at the title, “A bit extreme for a one system “Empire” I know, but it makes me feel more important and motivates me through my tasks, so I guess there’s no harm to it.”

“Outer Rim Syndicate?” Lyn said, raising his eyebrows, before turning to Xander, grinning, “He’s already picked a name he likes.”

“Well, I had hoped once the alliance was formalised between us, I could move to formalise an alliance with the Sith on Kroprulu – I mean, I doubt they would choose to be enemies with me when an alliance is far more profitable for us both – and after that, in addition to all the criminal gangs joining me here, I would truly be a syndicate, no?” Anakin said with a mock smile.

Xander smiled briefly before sitting forwards, “About the alliance, the Council accepts on one term.”

“Any, my friend,” Anakin said, putting up his hand to halt any further words from Xander’s mouth, “But first, a brandy for either of you?” Then, leaning forward and gesturing for Xander and Lyn to lean forwards as well, “Are they old enough to drink yet?” He whispered in a staged whisper, loud enough for Wes and Leon to hear.

Lyn smiled, and shook his head. Anakin looked a little crestfallen, “Oh well, just the three of us then?” Xander and Lyn nodded, and he summoned an aide to pour them each a glass, with the rest of the bottle left on the table for seconds.

Xander lifted his glass and took a sip. The rich, smoky texture of the Corellian Brandy smoothed his throat, and he paused, as if to draw inspiration from the drink in his hand, “We ask that any information pertaining knowledge of our home world be sent directly to us – any moves by the Sith or private organisations to find out where we are located and we are to be alerted immediately – deal?”

“Of course, I’d have it no other way. Of course, since I already know the location, should I sift between genuine threats to your location, or send them all to you?”

“We’d prefer all to be sent. You never know when a cold trail could suddenly become hot again,” Lyn said, taking a long sip from his brandy, refilling it from the bottle and drinking again. He put his glass down as he noticed Xander look at him, an innocent expression crossing his face, “We don’t have any good brandy at the Temple,” he muttered petulantly, almost like a little child.

Xander rolled his eyes and grinned at Anakin, “Excellent, now, we just have to formalise the alliance in these documents, and then we’ll be on our way to leave you in peace in your glass temple and fake Super Star Destroyer bridge.”

Anakin choked on his drink, his face turning bright red – whether this was from being caught out in the lie or because of the burning brandy caught in his throat was unclear – and he pounded his chest. “How did you know?” He asked finally.

Xander smiled, “Simple. I know the Sith Empire, they would never hand over a piece of a craft to a traitor like you, no offence,” he added as a pained expression crossed Anakin’s face, “Just expressing their mind set. Also, I know for a fact that your old capital craft wasn’t decommissioned, but is still in use, just under a different leader.”

“Why do you even need me? You seem to have spies already set up,” Anakin said with a quirky smile.

“We have our reasons,” Xander said, grinning at the shock he had caused in Anakin, and sensed he was gradually gaining the man’s genuine respect.

Xander Vos

Chapter Nine

**31 ABY**

Eriadu - Outer Atmosphere

“What did you gather from this mission? What do you believe you have learnt?” Xander asked as he set a new course into his nav-computer for the trip back. Instead of taking the quicker route back to the Temple via the Corellian Trade Spine he had decided to take his Apprentice along a more scenic route, to point out a few of the significant planets in Xander’s history. The course they were taking would bring them to Tatooine, and from there they would head on to Naboo, then Kinyen, then Lorta, then finally back to the Temple. Lyn and Leon were heading back on the direct route in a hired shuttle, which they were piloting themselves.

Wes paused for a minute, considering his answer, “It seems that despite his change of heart, Anakin has proved himself as a loyal friend to the order. Perhaps that suggests that even with all that can go on with individuals their loyalties remain true to those who treat them well in return. Perhaps that is why he left the Sith in the first place. From the stories we have of them they seem like a cruel, barbaric bunch.”

Xander paused what he was doing, and turned to Wes, “Be careful with what you think,” he cautioned, “Whilst it is true the Sith can be barbaric in their actions, and cruel to those who fail them, they can also be extremely kind and tolerable. Jedi who become Sith would not loose their old traits completely, and Sith who become Jedi must have had those ideas and feelings within them even as a Sith, so there is the possibility that most Sith can act with kindness, it all depends upon who that kindness is directed.”

“Of course, sorry Master,” Wes said, again emanating that curious feeling through the Force, and Xander waited until they jumped to Hyperspace and settled back into his chair before addressing his Apprentice again.

“Why do you never say what you feel?” Xander said suddenly, jolting Wes out of his submergence in his feelings.

“What?” Wes said, perturbed.

“You hide your feelings from me, you say what you don’t mean, but your true thoughts leap out through the Force to me like a flare in the dark of the night.”

Wes paused, composing himself, almost considering whether it was worth revealing his true thoughts to his Master, “You’re a kriffing hypocrite,” he exploded, launching himself up from his seat and whirling to face Xander, his eyes shining angrily.

Xander was taken aback with the voracity of the attack, “Excuse me?”

“You talk about all these emotions and so on, and yet I know your story. You’ve gone closer to the Dark Side than most Jedi will ever go in their entire lives! You used Force Lightning on people to protect your allies! You acted selfishly and out of self-preservation, and now you lecture me on how to feel?”

“I was young, and foolish,” Xander said, speaking over Wes as he tried to launch another attack, “I know I acted incorrectly, but that is no excuse for you to do the same. If anything it is motivation for you to try and behave better, to strive to be better than how I was when I was not much older than you. Never assume that because of my actions that that course of action is correct, that what I have done serves as justification for what you wish to do. Never make the same mistakes as I did,” Xander said softly.

Wes stared at him long and hard, before breaking eye contact with Xander. He muttered something and wandered away, intent on getting some sleep before they arrived at Naboo. Xander shook his head in disappointment and silently glared at the ceiling, as if it had somehow brought about this schism between him and his Apprentice, before stalking back into the cockpit to make sure everything was as it should be.

Kinyen - Outer Atmosphere

Xander sat brooding in the cockpit, his face in his hands as he pondered what to do with Wes. There was fire in the boy, injuries on his inside that had been created carelessly by Master Kavar, fire that Xander was not sure he could douse. He absently flicked back a switch, and slowly eased a lever back as a blinking light and a soft klaxon indicated their nearing of the Kinyen System.

“Wes,” he called, turning back to stare back into the quarters. Suddenly he was smashed forwards as a blinding light struck the forward viewport. Xander spun around, pulling up schematics furiously to try and figure out what was attacking them. The craft – whatever it was – struck again, and something came loose to the aft of the Swift Eagle, and Wes stumbled into the cockpit, confused and bleary.

“What’s happening?” He asked.

“Pirates,” Xander said, looking back at him, and buckling his lightsaber and belt to his waist, “Prepare for an attempt at boarding. The damage is to extensive for us to power up the canons, and the hyperdrive has been damaged, so no chance that way for a few hours while it resets.”

Wes gulped, and drew his own lightsaber, which he had only used on rare occasions. The hammering continued, and he turned, almost fearful, to Xander, “And what happens if they want to destroy us, not board us?”

“Well, firstly, they’re pirates, so they would get nothing out of our destruction. Secondly, if they do,” Xander looked a little worried, "We run for the escape pods and hope they take their time.”

A metallic clang resounded through the ship, and Xander felt relief wash over him. He turned to Wes, “See, they’re boarding us, now, get ready for-,”

A lancing blue bolt spun out of a gaping hole in which one of the escape pods had just been, striking Xander in the temple and dropping him to the ground. Five men poured into the main room of the Swift Eagle, and Wes ignited his lightsaber, standing his ground.

“Well looky here,” one of them said, grinning maliciously, “A little Jedi. Looks like his Master is out cold, so he shouldn’t be too difficult. Unless we’ve made him angry.” He grinned again, as his four companions continued to encircle Wes and Xander.

Wes knelt by Xander, checking his vitals, not once taking his eyes off the man who had spoken. “I will give you one chance to surrender, and then my actions shall not be of my own consequence,” he said calmly, to which the men burst out laughing.

“Well don’t worry you little water rat, we won’t keep you hung up on your guilt too long,” another man said, drawing a long, evil looking vibrosword, swinging it experimentally.

Wes swallowed nervously. He backed up, unsure how he was going to defeat them and escape. He glanced between the men, waiting for them to make the first move.

Unknown Location

“Your training is nearly complete, only this duel remains before you are to take your Sith name,” The Master said, holding his orange blade loosely in front of him, awaiting 112A to make the first move.

112A allowed himself to be submerged in the ruby glow of his own blade, letting a sense of calm wash over him as he prepared for the duel with his Master. Everything he had learnt had led up to this point. When he chose his Sith name, he and his Master would be able to train more Sith, become more powerful, and defeat any enemy in their path. The Master was powerful, 112A knew that for sure. He was single-handedly running a training ground whilst also somehow maintaining nourishments. He must have had a droid work force, or perhaps slaves, but whichever it was, all this proved just how powerful The Master was.

112A flipped, swinging his blade with a powerful slash, in a move typical of Djem So. In addition to his training in the Dark Side of the Force, 112A had also received physical training, and his bulging muscles were testament to how hard he had trained over the years. The Master was older, less attuned to 112A’s style than he had been when they had first duelled many years ago, and stumbled back under the aggression and brute power that 112A displayed.

The Master grinned, “Excellent, I am most pleased in your progress, you have truly made me proud,” he spun to the side, and feinted left before striking low down, bringing his lightsaber up and across. 112A not only stopped the attack, but smashed The Master’s lightsaber back into the ground, leaving a glowing mark where it struck.

The Master, breathing heavily, paused for a moment, catching his breath, before attempting again to throw 112A off guard. He turned, summoning a metal chair, throwing it at 112A.

112A ducked, and caught the chair before it hit the far wall, sending it hurtling back with twice the speed, where it struck The Master, sending him crumpling to the ground, “Two can play at that game,” he said, smirking.

He stepped over, closer to The Master, and held his blade to the man’s throat. The man he considered the closest thing he had to a father. When 112A had awoken all those years before, he had been lost, aimless in the world, without a strand of memory from before waking up in the containment cell, except for passing flashes of memory of a bacta tank, although he hadn’t had to use one during his training.

“You have passed,” The Master said, smiling, shakily raising to his feet, “And now, you must choose your new Dark Mantle. Kneel,” he ordered, raising his lightsaber, and pausing for breath.

112A knelt, his head bowed, a thrill shooting through him as he realised it was finally time.

“You shall henceforth be known as... Darth Mauv,” The Master said, moving the lightsaber from one shoulder to the other, a few of 112A’s hairs peeling back from the heat.

Darth Mauv smiled, “Thank you, my Master. Together we shall conquer the Galaxy.”

The Master smiled, momentarily, before moving away towards a door, which slid open as he approached. Then Darth Mauv saw the most extraordinary sight. The Master bowed before another man who walked through the door. Darth Mauv faintly recognised him as the man who had tested him all those years ago to see if he could be a Sith. Jonas Weyx. That was his name, Darth Mauv could just recall the bored speech the man had given before testing him. So why was The Master bowing before him?

“Thank you, Darth Doom,” Jonas said, nodding, “I shall pass on my commendations to Emperor Dude himself. You have done a tremendous job with this one. He shall be a valuable addition to our Empire.”

Empire? Emperor Dude? Darth Doom? Darth Mauv took a step back, The Master – or Darth Doom as Jonas had called him – was bowing and nodding his thanks to Jonas, as if he weren’t in charge, and this Emperor Dude seemed to be the one in charge, nothing was making sense in his mind anymore. Darth Mauv shook his head, trying to clear it of the confusion threatening to overthrow his sanity.

Jonas walked calmly over to him as Darth Doom slipped through the door, placing his lightsaber on a bench and picking up a different two, clipping them to his belt and marching off. “Are you ready to serve Emperor Dude and follow him in every move he makes?” He asked.

“I am,” said Darth Mauv, nodding. If Darth Doom followed Emperor Dude, then so would he. Whatever confusion that he felt would surely be explained within the coming hours. He hoped he would have the chance of meeting the Emperor in person, or at the least one of his aides, to help him come to terms with what had happened.

“Very well,” Jonas said, studying his face for a moment, “Follow me.”

Xander Vos

Chapter Ten

**31 ABY**

Kinyen – Outer Atmosphere

Wes tensed, and suddenly, one of the men charged him, slashing ferociously at Wes’ head, as another dived, his blade pointing out and towards Wes’ gut. Wes slipped to the side, gracefully, avoiding the lower blade, and battered the higher blade aside. He spun, slicing at the hand gripping the lower blade, and released it from the arm to which it had – just moments before – been attached to.

The man roared in pain and dropped to his knees. In the blink of an eye, Wes smashed the pommel of his blade into the back of the man’s head, knocking him to the ground, and putting him out of his pain. He turned, the four remaining men regrouped, a little more cautious after this ferocious display of energy and initiative, despite his Master being unconscious on the ground.

His Master. Wes’ eyes flicked down for a moment to where Xander’s body lay limp, a small amount of smoke expelling itself from his robes where the stun bolt had struck him. Despite their differences, Wes never wanted any harm to come to his Master, and would fight hard to defend him in any case. He turned back, facing the men again, who were now all in front of him, rather than the circular stance they had taken before.

One man brandished a blaster, pointing it at Wes, and squeezed the trigger, as another spun around, smashing his blade into Wes’ gut, doubling him over. Wes rolled to the ground, and the blaster bolts smashed into the far wall, leaving gaping holes where the cockpit could be seen beyond.

“That’s it, this ends now,” Wes said, slicing at the man’s legs, sending him jittering to the floor before a similar smash to the head knocked him unconscious as well. “My Master will freak when he sees what you’ve done to his ship.”

Pausing, Wes glanced at the three remaining men. Then he bared his teeth in a feral grin, then let out a roar, flipping over their heads, and letting loose a wide scythe of his lightsaber, catching two of the men in the stomachs, immediately cauterising, but sending them crashing to the floor, unmoving. The final man, the supposed leader who had spoken at the beginning, blocked the strike with his sword, performing a complex wrist-twisting move that sent Wes’ lightsaber flying through one of the holes and into the cockpit.

“Not so powerful without your little laser-sword, eh?” The man said, wiping a smudge of blood from his chin, grinning ferociously as he closed in on Wes.

Wes moved forwards, smashing his forehead into the man’s nose, before following through with an upper cut which sent the man reeling back, searching for support from the far wall, which he hit with a sickening crunch.

“The Force is my ally, and a powerful ally it is,” Wes said, calmly, moving forwards, raising the man into the air using the Force. He slowly closed his fingers, and the man began to choke. “Never again board a Jedi craft,” Wes said coldly, and the man nodded frantically, searching for breath as his fingers scrabbled at his neck. “Go back to whatever pitiful existence you once held, and remain there for the rest of your life.” Wes released the man, who fell to the ground, his chest heaving.

Wes moved to Xander slapping him gently on his cheeks a few times before his eyes fluttered open. “What happened?” Xander asked groggily, trying to sit up, but failing, his arm still numb from the knock-out.

“Don’t worry Master, its over. They won’t bother us again,” Wes said, glancing over at the one surviving man, and the four others who would be lucky if they lasted the next few days given their states. They would need high medical attention, or at least a medical droid, and based on their scungy appearance, these men had neither.

Nodding slightly, and finally managing to rise, Xander helped Wes carry the men to their own craft, then worked steadily, depressurising the escape pod seal, before slaving the pirate craft’s controls to jump to Hyperspace after detaching itself from the Swift Eagle.

Xander settled into the cockpit of his ship, setting course immediately for the Jedi Temple, wasting no time in returning home after the traumatic experience he knew Wes must have just faced. He turned and glanced at Wes, who was smiling happily to himself.

Perturbed, Xander paused what he was doing, “Why are you smiling? You just fought five pirates, your head is bleeding slightly from the scalp, and you’re smiling?”

Wes just continued to smile, turning happily to Xander, saying “You were right, Master. You were right.” He settled into his seat, a content smile on his face.

Bewildered, Xander turned back to the star charts, shaking his head in confusion as their craft hurtled on, back to the Jedi Temple.

Bakura – Outer Atmosphere

The Swift Eagle jolted out of Hyperspace with a lurch, and Xander frowned, checking several readings, flipping a switch, pausing, and twisting a dial. He sighed in frustration and kicked the plating, “We blew a fuse on the trip, and we’re now operating on our backup Hyperdrive, what fun. At least we’ve arrived. I only hope our valued technicians have a replacement Hyperdrive.”

Wes smiled at Xander, “Don’t worry, I’m sure they will. If not, I’m sure there’s a ship around here we can nab one from and then claim innocence.”

Xander laughed and nudged Wes in the ribs, “When did you grow a sense of humour?”

“About the same time as you grew arms. You never knew I could be funny?” Wes said, a picture of innocence, “Then maybe now’s not the best time to tell you about the holes in the wall of the cabin.”

“What?! I thought there was only holes in the cockpit wall!” Xander shouted, leaping up, and racing to the cabin, checking the wall. He paused, and came back into the cockpit to where Wes was struggling to keep a straight face. “The wall is fine,” he muttered, glaring at Wes.

“I told you I had a sense of humour. But did you listen?” Wes said, letting a snigger escape his lips.

Council Chambers – Jedi Temple

“Are you sure? They may have had false symbols on their craft. There’s no way of being certain,” Jaden said, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“There was no doubt. The pirates were from Black Haven. I just don’t know what they were doing near Kinyen. I’m also unsure whether they were following higher orders, or just unaware of the recently signed alliance between our Order and the Outer Rim Syndicate,” Xander said, standing before the hastily assembled Council. Vikro was appearing on hologram off on a mission somewhere that Xander assumed was serious enough to send a Council member.

“Very well. We will discuss this further with Anakin. He must make sure that all organisations that have collaborated under his rule are to follow his instructions, and to not attack his allies. How is things with your Apprentice? Lyn mentioned on his return that there was a level of friction between the two of you. Is he coping with his new Master, or do you believe he is too far gone to continue training?”

“Everything is fine now,” Xander said, smiling. “It seems that some good did come out of the pirates’ attack. When I was knocked unconscious, Wes was forced to fight to protect me, and I think that in doing so he realised that there are more important things in life than petty grudges against someone who is just trying to do the best by you. We’ve made up, and everything is excellent. Thank you for your concern though, I’ll mention if anything is wrong in future.”

“Very well,” Koras said, eager to move things on, “But there’s still the matter of Anakin himself. Has he reverted to the way he was as a Sith? Did he attack you? Did anything happen to suggest that there was a possibility of an attack?”

“Nothing whatsoever, Master,” Xander said, shaking his head, “He was very hospitable, even gave me the first decent brandy I’ve had in years,” he said with a laugh. “But I did notice an aide who took us to his palace taking notes on our behaviour, so I believe that if we had attacked him, or shown any aggressive tendencies, he would have been prepared to fight back, hard and fast. I’m just glad we have him on side, we’ll need an information ring with the increasing chances of our discovery here.”

Abba nodded, relieved. She smiled, “Thank you Xander, that will be all for now. I think you should get a Healer to check your injuries. Repairs are being made with post-haste to the Swift Eagle and should be finished within the week.”

“Thank you, that ship means everything to me,” Xander said, grinning, “May the Force be with you.”

“And with you.”

Jedi Temple – Bakura

Xander smiled. Everything was perfect in his life. Everything was how he wanted it. But still... He searched his mind. Something was incomplete. He had everything he wanted. An Apprentice, a ship, a good relationship with both, and friends around him. Lost in thought, he bumped into the person walking in front of him. Xander looked up, embarrassed, and felt his heart thump quicker as he looked into the most beautiful face he had ever seen.

The woman standing in front of him couldn’t have been much more than two years younger than him, her brown, flowing hair streaked occasionally by a beautiful blonde, her face peppered slightly with freckles, and wonderful, deep, hazelnut eyes.

“I’m, sorry,” Xander said, bumbling over his words, “Completely my fault. Should have been watching where I was going.”

“No, the fault is mine,” the woman said, smiling at his awkwardness, “What did the Council want you for?”

“Oh, nothing really, just returned from a mission to Eriadu where I had to organise an alliance with the Outer Rim Syndicate, nothing special.”

“Oh!” The woman said, the word sounding more like a noise than an actual word, a gorgeous noise. “You’re Xander Vos!”

“Why yes, yes I am,” Xander said, a lopsided grin spreading on his face, “How did you know?”

“I’ve heard much about you. My old Master, Tarya told me about a mission you went on once, to Thespis?” She said, unsure.

“Why yes, that was the last mission I went on with my old Master, Vikro,” Xander said, smiling, as he started walking to the cantina with her by his side, “I seem to be at a disadvantage though. You know my name, but I don’t know yours.”

“I’m Mia. Mia Romis.”

Xander Vos

Chapter Eleven

**35 ABY**

Sparring Chambers – Jedi Temple

Left. Right. Left. Right. Up. Down. Left. Right. Up. Down. The pattern continued as Xander struck each imaginary target in his warm up. The standard Ataru movements were usually athletic, but the more complex manoeuvres forced the opponent into the athleticism. Xander had buried himself in his training ever since the news that his old Master, Vikro, had died at Korriban the previous year. He couldn’t accept the fact that the kind man who had been as much his father as Korto had been was now dead,

Left. Right. Left. Right. Up. Down. Left. Right. Up. Down. Spin. Kick. Right. Punch. Left. Right. Left. Right. Up. Down. Left. Right. It had been ten years. Ten long, and gruelling years, but Xander believed Wes was nearly ready to take the trials and become a Jedi Knight. The pair shared a close bond, ever since the incident with Black Haven, and Xander felt a sense of sadness at losing his Apprentice. He shrugged the notion away. He was not losing an Apprentice, but gaining a friend and peer.

Left. Right. Left. Right. Up. Down. Left. Right. Up. Down. Spin. Kick. Right. Punch. Left. Right. Left. Right. Up. Down. Left. Right. Stab. Pivot. Right. Left. Leap. Kick. Stab. Slice. Xander shut down his lightsaber, satisfied that the manoeuvres had worked up an admirable sweat, and he breathed heavily as he paused to drink from his flask. Wes was due any moment for their duel, and Xander knew that he would have improved drastically since their last serious duel.

Xander smiled, everything was perfect. Mia and he were in love, and he had every intention of proposing to her as soon as Wes was knighted and he had a chance to be alone with her for a few days. Ever since they had met he had courted her gallantly. At first she had hidden her feelings in her training of her Apprentice, a Twi’lek girl from Nar Shadda, Shyra’tec, but slowly, bit by bit, she had opened up to him.

They had taken holidays together on the rare occasions that they were given time off, and Xander had taken her on a romantic trip to Obroa-skai, where the Yuuzhan Vong transformation of the planet eight years ago had left it with a much softer appearance. The planet now reflected beautifully the organic nature of the gas giant Obroa-held.

Xander paused for a moment. He had almost completely forgotten about the Yuuzhan Vong. It was the most peculiar thing. Extra-Galactic invaders arrive in the Galaxy, and are beaten back at every turn by the Kroprulan Sith Empire, even though they caused wide-spread damage before largely disappearing again, presumably to look for a less defended Galaxy, and he, Xander, had forgotten about them. He shook his head, a wry smile rising to his lips. This was certainly an odd life he led, when even a Galactic-wide threat could slip from his mind as quickly as water through cupped hands.

“Master?” Wes said, entering the room silently, the doors sliding shut behind him without a sound.

Xander jumped, and turned, “Your getting better that. A little more practice and I won’t have to pretend not to hear you.”

Wes laughed, stripping off his main Jedi robe, just leaving the tight-fitting garments that fit snug to his body on. He stepped to one side of a large ring, typing in a series of commands to the main computer system, and immediately a series of obstacles appeared, ranging from fire hoops to electrical sensors, that would fire stun bolts if depressed.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Xander said. Many Jedi Masters struggled to finish this difficult setting with all feeling still in their body, and Xander usually left with several bruises and a scorched limb of some sort.

Wes nodded, “I’m ready. More importantly, are you? You may be getting slow in your old age.”

Xander feigned indignation. “Excuse me? I’m barely over my prime.”

“You’re forty-one. That’s not exactly near your prime,” Wes said, a snort of indignation escaping his lips. “I wouldn’t put it past you if you were still a vir-“

“That’s quite enough,” Xander said, glaring at his Apprentice, “Now, are we going to duel, or are you going to start counting my grey hairs?”

“Very well,” Wes said, igniting his lightsaber. Xander did the same, and Wes begun the training simulation.

Wes leapt up to a higher platform, running the length of it to achieve the optimum angle for an attack on Xander, and dived whilst in mid-run, spearing his lightsaber towards Xander. Xander backed away slightly, raising his lightsaber and transferring his weight to the soles of his feet, blocking Wes away, bouncing to the ground.

Wes leapt forwards, locking his blade with Xander’s, “Oh, and by the way, there’s one hundred and twenty-three,” he said, grinning. The Kel Dor kicked out at Xander’s legs, and Xander was forced to flip above Wes – straight into the path of a flame ring. He dived through it, patting out the fire that had started on his leg as he landed, and turned to face Wes.

“That may be so,” he said, grinning, “But I’ll never have more wrinkles than you.”

“That hurt,” Wes said, with a pained expression, “Considering how many you already have.”

“Oh, that’s it,” Xander said, speeding into a sprint, charging Wes down, forcing him to dodge to the side, onto a pressure sensor, and to subsequently block a stun bolt away. During this time Xander leapt away, hiding in the darkness created when the excersise had started, shutting off the lights.

Wes slowed to a cautious pace, trying to find Xander in the darkness, and as he neared Xander, Xander leapt out, changing momentarily to Jar’Kai, despite his sloppiness in it, in a hope to throw Wes off-guard.

The Kel Dor back away, trying to keep up his Ataru stroke, even though Jar’Kai was stronger against Ataru, and finally was forced to switch to Djem So, even though he was nearly incompetent in it. Xander soon begun to struggle to keep the manoeuvres of Jar’Kai going, the strain put on his arms growing to strong, and finally he was forced to return to Ataru, putting his legs back to work and taking the strain off his arms.

Wes, also, returned to Ataru gladly, and they moved through the field for nearly an hour, side-stepping traps, ducking under flamethrowers, and working up a heavy sweat. Finally Xander paused by the controls, swiping at them with his lightsaber after first switching it back up to full. Static swept across them and the system shut down, the various traps and contraptions sinking back into the floor where they belonged.

“That wasn’t very fair,” Wes objected.

“Since when did we agree to play fair?” Xander said, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, the Council won’t be happy about having to replace that. Its quite expensive. You could have just tapped the button.”

Xander shrugged, “But that wouldn’t be dramatic.”

The pair circled each other in the now plain ring, and Xander struck first, knocking Wes’ lightsaber up slightly, and moved in to crack him in the jaw with the pommel of his blade, but Wes back-flipped away, regaining his composure. Wes paused, before moving in again, feinting left before smashing Xander in the side of the head with the pommel of his own blade, Xander dropping like a stone.

Xander awoke to find Wes’ hand in his face, and Xander accepted it, slowly getting to his feet, “That wasn’t fair, just so you know. I was warming up for quite some time before you arrived, so I was already a little tired.”

“You’re already a little old,” Wes said, teasingly, “Good duel though.”

“Yes,” Xander sighed, “I suppose. You finally beat me. Well done. You truly will be a great Jedi Knight.”

Unknown Location - Tund

Darth Mauv sat in his room, meditating. Everything was working out so far. Following the revelation of the truth, he had been put in charge of a training facility for young Force Sensitives who had the potential of becoming powerful Sith. He had felt pent up frustration at this, tired at having to baby-sit wet-nosed youths, yearning to meet the Emperor he had begun to hear much about.

Finally, a year ago, the Emperor had come personally to over-see the development of something Darth Mauv had little knowledge about, and the two had finally met. Apparently the Emperor was pleased with Darth Mauv’s progress, both with the academy, and with him in person.

Darth Mauv was beginning to get the impression that there was something being kept from him about who he actually was. Darth Doom – formerly The Master, Darth Mauv thought scornfully – had turned out to be one of the Emperor’s personal bodyguards – having disappeared after Mauv’s training had been completed, and had only appeared in tow of the Emperor, his eyes constantly shifting, searching for the possibility of any hidden threat.

A week ago he had submitted an application to Jonas to be given some sort of position from which he could actually aid the Emperor, and Jonas had written back saying events dictated that very soon things would change for the better.

Darth Mauv smiled. Finally he would reveal himself. There were whisperings of a relocation to a world much closer to the Core. If that was so, then things truly must be coming to a climax. People seemed to be preparing for battle, or something similar, for craft were visiting Tund nearly every other day, with a large fleet slowly building itself up. Jonas seemed to be saying that within five years everything would be ready, and then something, Darth Mauv knew what, would begin.

Whatever it was, he would be ready.

Xander Vos

Chapter Twelve

**35 ABY – A Month After the Duel**

Council Chambers – Jedi Temple

“Wes Odo, you have been brought before us because you have completed the Trials set by your Master on behalf of the Jedi Council, and your Master now believes you to be ready to progress to the rank of Jedi Knight. This would take you away from his leadership, and into the unknown,” Abba said, the Council seeming infinitely smaller without the beaming personality of Vikro, lost the year prior on Korriban with the destruction of a curious Jewel of the Force, which absorbed and fed off the midichlorian within a Force user.

Wes stepped forward, bowing low, before looking up at each Council Member in turn, “Thank you Masters, I am honoured to be considered for this honour. I realise I may have proved to be a trouble for the Council in the past since being – abandoned – by Kavar, but I have learnt, and grown from the mistakes I made in the past, and I know I am stronger for it, more than ready to face what is to come in the future.”

Abba nodded at Xander, and he stepped forwards, clearing his throat nervously. He had big shoes to fill – the speech Abba had given at his own Knighting ceremony had been more powerful and elegant than anything he thought he would be able to muster.

“I was but a boy; younger then you are now, when I began my journey...” Xander said, and slowly, his tongue loosened, as he explained to Wes his history as a young boy, the challenges he’d faced, the traumas he had been forced to deal with. “But in the end,” Xander said, finishing, “I know that whatever I have faced in the past has shaped me for who I have become, and who you see standing before you today. It is the events of our own private pasts that dictate who we become, and for you, with your fine and bold past, I have little doubt that you will be nothing short of legendary.”

Jaden nodded at Xander, and Xander resumed his place off to the side, as Jaden completed the ceremony with soft words of his own, followed by a blessing, and then the customary lightsaber knighting as Wes knelt before the entire Council who were on their feet.

As Wes rose, tears shone in his eyes, and he turned to Xander, nodding his thanks, unable to express his gratitude in words. Xander stood back, smiling, over-come by the pride that he felt for the boy – no, man now – that stood before him, a Jedi Knight now, and about to head out on his own journey, which would inevitably see him take an Apprentice. Then Wes would be standing in Xander’s own shoes, and, who knew, perhaps Xander would stand where Jaden stood now.

Xander turned, and slipped out of the room, as each Council Member congratulated Wes in turn. Xander made his way down the corridor, turned, left, and took the turbolift down to the ground level. He walked across the bridge separating the Council Chambers and Training Rooms from the Living Quarters, deep in thought. He remembered his journey well, but recounting it for Wes had brought back other memories. The Outer Rim Sieges which, apparently, with the Invasion of Bespin, had ended, could have affected Tatooine. Could have affected his parents. He reached the Quarters, took a turbolift up to the third floor. He decided then and there that when this was all over, that he would return home, to his old homestead near Mos Hurga, just to check up on his parents, to tell them the news of everything. He paused slightly, combing his hair slightly, and licking his lips nervously. Then he took a deep breath and knocked lightly on a door three doors down from the left.

Mia opened the door, and smiled in surprise, “Just what I needed, someone to brighten my day,” she said, kissing him gently on the lips, before gesturing for him to enter. Even though Jedi Knights had better quarters than the Padawans – not having to share with anyone else – it was still fairly small, nothing more than a bed and a small room with a refresher. They sat gently on the bed, and Xander drew his arm around Mia. She rested her head on his shoulder, and they sat for a moment in silence.

Then Xander turned to her, standing slightly off the bed, before turning back to kneel before her. “Mia,” he started, and she stared at him with a slightly bewildered expression on her face, “I’ve known you now for four years. We have seen highs, and lows. You were there for me when the news of Vikro’s death came through. You supported me and opened up to me when everyone avoided me slightly, as if to spare my feelings. I love you with all my heart. Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?” Xander had said this all staring at the ground, but now he raised his eyes, full of hope, to meet Mia’s own beautiful eyes.

Her soft eyes were full of tears, tears of joy. “Yes, of course. I love you more than anything,” she said, embracing Xander passionately, before pulling back and locking her lips with his.

Xander smiled as they broke for breath, gazing into the eyes of his future wife. This day would be long remembered. It had seen the end of Wes’ Apprenticeship, but the beginning of the rest of his life.

**36 ABY**

Outer Grounds – Jedi Temple

Amid thunderous applause, Xander and Mia kissed for the first time as husband and wife, the entirety of the Jedi Order present on Bakura cheering them wildly. Xander turned and gazed out at the crowd, catching the eye of Lyn Korak, Wes Odo, Obi-Tyler, and Asil Leikane each in turn. A pang of sadness swept through him. There was another he had wanted to share this happiness with, but he was gone, forever, absorbed into the Jewel of the Force before it shattered.

He turned back to Mia, gazing slightly at her slightly bulging stomach. At least one Vikro is here, Xander said, smiling at the thought of having a son within a few months. His own flesh and blood, his own creation. His life just couldn’t get any happier. He couldn’t wait to return home to tell his parents the good news, the grand children he was bound to produce for them over the coming years.

He grinned at Mia, kissing her again, longer this time, before turning and heading back down the aisle with her to the waiting ramp of the Swift Eagle, which would take them to their honeymoon. He paused, glanced back at the Jedi Order, so many emotions running through him. Every single Jedi on Bakura was assembled to wish him well. Every one of them cared for him and his wife and their soon to be born son. He shook his head slightly. How did he ever get so lucky.

Xander turned, and raced up the ramp to where his wife was waiting, embracing her and kissing her again. He turned and waved a final farewell to the crowd as the ramp begun to close again courtesy of a tap of the button from Mia. This was life. This was perfect.

Xander Vos

Chapter Thirteen

**37 ABY**

Outer Atmosphere – Tatooine

Xander grinned from ear to ear as he prepared the Swift Eagle for its descent. The suns shone strongly onto Tatooine, but not too strong. It was a warm day, but not a hot day. For him this was mildly warm, but for the Tatooinians, it would seem quite cold. Perfect.

The sky darkened slightly as Xander reached Mos Hurga, and he glanced out the viewport and, unbelievably, there it was, a series of clouds gathering in the air. He couldn’t believe his luck. Every few years areas of Tatooine were home to massive monsoons, where all moisture that had built up in the air finally unloaded. He laughed slightly. This certainly was his parents’ lucky day.

His craft settled down near the city, and Xander glanced out at it for the first time, and took a double-take. Where the city had stood thirty-five years ago was now a wreckage, marking the site of what looked like a series of fights. Buildings that still stood had heavy blaster-scoring, while others had given out under the pressure and had collapsed.

His heart stuck in his throat, and Xander moved through the city cautiously, hoping against hope that this was all just a sickening dream from which he would awaken. He reached the Talore workshop, and sunk to his knees in despair at the wreckage that greeted him.

He turned, desperate for some sign that his parents were still well, that nothing had happened to them, but everywhere he searched nothing but ruin and wreckages, with corpses, met him. Something metallic clinked at his feet, and he knelt, and picked up the lightsaber.

He didn’t recognise it, but had a sickening feeling as to who it belonged to. Closing his eyes, he tried to draw images to the possession, an ability common in the Vos family. Slowly sound and pictures formed before his eyes, and, with concentration, he drew them together, creating a cohesive image coupled with sound:

Lysa Sornfree, one time Jedi Knight, stood, waiting for her husband to finish tinkering with his lightsaber. “Come on,” she urged, “The alerts sounded ten minutes ago! The Sith could have destroyed the entire city by now, we have to stop them!”

“Alright,” Korto said, straightening up, “All done. Let’s go.” The pair raced to the speeder that they kept hidden at most times, but that Korto had slowly been improving over the years. Since Xander had left they hadn’t had much to do but to tinker with things, improving them any way they could.

After five tense minutes they arrived in town, where smoke was already billowing from several buildings, and the roar of resistance was reaching a frenzy as men, women and children were cut down charging an organised unit of Sith Troopers. At their fore stood a man with a lightsaber ignited, the yellow blade spelling doom for anyone who drew to near, his Force Lightning sending people to their knees with agonised screams where they stood.

Lysa and Korto stopped their speeder, and stepped calmly from it, igniting their lightsabers. Lysa’ aqua blade hadn’t been used in so long that it almost felt foreign in her grip. Almost. Korto, on the other hand, had constructed his emerald blade only recently, but had never actually used it, receiving some basic advice from Lysa, but nothing that would help him defeat a Sith Lord.

“I’ll fight the Sith, you just make sure that everyone is ok,” Lysa said, and Korto nodded. He raced to where George Talore was rallying all able-bodied men, handing out blaster rifles, and offered his help.

Lysa turned, and moved down several streets to where the Sith were advancing, and she paused, shouting her challenge, “In the name of the Force, I shall cut you down, you monster!” She raced forwards, and the Sith, surprised at the challenge, stopped his men from firing, turning instead to fight her himself.

“It has been long since I have fought a Jedi face-to-face,” he said to a Sith trooper who seemed to be in charge.

“But Lord Minious-”

“I said I will fight her!” He thundered, stepping forward as she met him, their blades meeting in a charge of sparks and crackles. He parried her aggressive blow, and slipped into Trakata, avoiding her blade whenever he could, knowing she would tire. She was old, possibly an old Jedi from the Republic in exile, but there was a fight about her. She roared angrily, slashing at him when she could. Behind her, her roar was met by the co-ordinated efforts of Korto and George, who the Sith troopers quickly became preoccupied with.

Korto stepped to Lysa’s side, adding any distractions he could to the effort to bring Minious down. He stopped, almost bored, and sliced low, bringing his lightsaber up at the end of the strike. Lysa managed to block the blow, although she stumbled back, and Minious turned, pressing the advantage, hammering away at Korto’s weak defences. The man finally dropped to his knees, his lightsaber rolled away, and moments later so did his head.

“NO!” Lysa shouted, rushing forwards, not caring that she gave into her rage, not caring that what she was doing was of the Dark Side, not caring when first her left arm, and then her leg were sliced cleanly off. Minious was impressed by her fighting spirit, maintaining her balance through the Force, but this duel was at an end. He smashed his blade into her breast-bone, and she gasped as she fell backwards. Minious spun, spearing her cleanly through the heart, as the lightsaber fell to the ground, her grip cold and lifeless.

“I had forgotten how weak they were,” Minious said, sniffing in distaste, as he turned to witness the last of the resistance, George Talore, cut down in a barrage of blaster fire, “Leave the bodies and possessions as they are. They shall serve as a reminder of what happens when one crosses the Empire.”

The heavens chose that moment to open up with their torrent of rain, which quickly mixed with Xander’s tears as he lay on the ground, weeping, at the deaths of those that he had loved so much. He turned his fiery eyes to the sky, “I will kill you Minious! If it is the last thing I must do!” He roared; clenching his fist so hard that blood trickled between his knuckles.

But no one heard him. No one heard the sobbing that escaped his chest, the ragged breathing turning to sobbing as Xander howled at the Force for what it had down. No one heard him as he swore to kill the Sith Lord Darth Minious if it were the last act he committed. Howling at the cruelty of it all, the knife through his heart twisting deeper as he sobbed for the release that would end it all.

To Be Concluded... In Part Three.

Xander Vos

I sense much darkness in his heart, whether that be now, or from events in the future. – Grand Master Abba to Jedi Master Vikro.

Chapter One

**39 ABY**

Jedi Temple – Bakura

“No, no, no,” Xander said, trying hard to remain patient with the young Zeltron native. Zhar, a young boy from Zeltron, was swinging his lightsaber backwards and forwards as if it were a holo-bat. The boy was clearly trying to use a style vaguely similar to Shien or Djem So, but his foot-work was all wrong.

“Tell me, Padawan Zhar, what style were you using just then?” Xander said.

“Form Five, Master Vos, Djem So,” the boy said, proudly, “As you can see, I’ve been practicing hard.”

“Unfortunately, you have a long way to go,” Xander said, sympathetically, “With a lot more hard practice still to come.”

“Yes Master Vos,” Zhar said, looking down-cast. He turned again towards his duelling partner, a Twi’lek girl from Nar Shadda, Tyra Secura. Tyra always rolled her eyes at people who asked if she was related to the Jedi Knight Aayla Secura, and explained, as if speaking to a small child, the commonness of the last name Secura amongst her people. It would be as if asking an Antilles if they were related to any other person by that name.

Xander strolled around the small room, where a total of seven miniature duels were being executed, the Padawans ranging in age from ten through to fourteen. He took a moment, and let emotion over take him again, the deaths of his parents, the looks on their faces when Darth Minious had struck them down. The memory of being told that his old Master, Vikro, had been killed on Korriban. He begun to shake, and desperately shoved the memories to the back of his mind, hoping not to distract the Padawans from their duels. It was too late.

“Master Vos? Is everything all right?” Tyra said, shutting down her violet lightsaber, concern in her eyes, “I sensed distraught through the Force, and it seemed to be coming from you.”

“I’m fine,” Xander said, assuring her, “But you must continue your practice. You will never become Jedi Knights if all you do is stand around chatting like a band of Gungans.”

“Yes Master Vos,” the group chimed out, returning to their practice as quickly as they had stopped, and Xander was given another private moment. It was broken, however, as the door into the duelling chamber chimed open. He looked up, and into the face of Kavar, recently returned from his quest out amongst the stars.

Xander still held a small amount of contempt for the Sullustan, for the way he had treated Wes Odo, but he knew that it had not entirely been Kavar’s fault, and was reluctantly forgiving him for the problem.

“Yes?” Xander said, feeling slightly annoyed that his class had been interrupted, “I will be finished in an hour, if you need to talk, then would be the best time.”

“The Council needs you urgently,” Kavar said, sounding out of breath as if he had sprinted all the way from the Council chambers, “War has been declared throughout the Galaxy by an unknown force that has already undermined the Sith Empire on all fronts.”

Gasps of shock, and whimpers of fear spread through the Padawans, and Xander glared at Kavar for his forthrightness. “Very well, class dismissed. Practice what I told you, and keep working on your specific forms.”

Xander stalked out of the room, and hissed to Kavar, “Don’t frighten them like that, tell me after I have dismissed them, but not in front of them. Some of them are still young and are easily frightened.”

“I’m sorry,” Kavar apologised, “I know your new duties as Battlemaster are taking up a lot of your time, but the Council does need to see you urgently. Much of the higher ranked Jedi have been called to the meeting, and I was told to find you and tell you what I told you just now.”

“Very well,” Xander said, as they crossed the grounds, and entered the building in which the Council Chambers were housed. “So what’s this all about anyway? Why was a state of war declared, and who is this new enemy?”

“I don’t know,” Kavar said, apologetically, “All I know is that the Sith Empire has locked horns, so to speak, with a new enemy force, and that they have been beaten back in all confrontations.”

They reached the Council Chambers, and the doors slid smoothly open to a full Council Chambers. Xander recognised several Jedi Knights present, such as Felian Darkheart, Butler Swan, Lyn Korak, and Samuel, but others he didn’t recognise, such as a Baxthrax Jedi Knight, and a Trandoshan Jedi Knight.

“Ah, now that Xander and Kavar are here, we can begin the meeting,” Abba said. The Jedi Knights seated themselves on seats that had been moved into the Council Chambers specifically for the meeting, and gazed solemnly at Abba. Xander guessed that they knew as much about this sudden war as he did.

The Council looked equally solemn. Xander glanced around at the Council, seeing familiar faces: Padmé Dral, who had been promoted to the Council the previous year, replacing Vikro finally, Jaden, Koras, Asil, Abba, and Obi-Tyler.

“Early this morning, we received reports from the Outer Rim Syndicate, led by Anakin Raith, that a new force had arisen, and had struck several of the member worlds of the Kroprulan Sith Empire. It appears that they were able to defeat the Empire’s defences quite easily in an overwhelming show of force,” Abba said.

“What does this mean?” A young woman said, speaking up from the back.

“At this stage, we don’t know,” Obi-Tyler said, “If it is a threat confined to a war between the Kroprulan Sith Empire and this new force, as it appears to be, we shall do nothing but observe. We do, however, have our entire fleet up to scratch, and we’ll be prepared if they turn their sights on us.”

“Should we aid this new force? I mean, our enemy’s enemy is our friend, right?” Lyn said. Several people around the room murmured in agreement.

“We are unsure on this,” Koras said, casting a glance at the other Council Members. Clearly there had been some debate on this amongst them. “The Council is in disagreeance over this new threat, and whether they pose a threat to us, or just to the Sith. As Master Tyler said just before, we shall wait, and observe, but not act until their intentions are clear.”

“So in the mean time, how do you suggest we go about defending worlds that aren’t a part of the Sith Empire, but may accidentally be attacked by this force?” Xander asked, “Wouldn’t that ultimately determine our allegiance one way or another? We are fated to defend those that can’t defend themselves, but if a mistake in communication were made, or an error in judgement in their command, we would be forced to fight against potential allies. What do you suggest we do?”

“A good question, Knight Vos, and one that we have found exceptionally hard to answer,” Shatterpoint said, frowning slightly as she searched for an adequate answer. “We advise that you defend whenever necessary, and we shall deal with the consequences when they occur. If we are to ally with this new force, then we shall be able to explain our actions were only taken in the self defence of those who couldn’t defend themselves.”

Xander nodded, satisfied with this answer, “Very well. Is there anything else needing to be said, or can I begin to prepare for my next class?”

Abba chuckled, “Xander, you always have seen more importance in productiveness than in worrying. Very well. Those who wish to remain to further coordinate defence strategies can do so, but otherwise, dismissed.”

Mess Hall – Jedi Temple

Xander munched his way through his nerf steak, as he spotted Lyn step into the hall and glance around for a seat. He caught Lyn’s eye, and shrugged his head slightly, in an indication that Lyn was welcome to join him. Lyn smiled and walked over, sitting down with a heavy sigh.

“So how’d it go?” Xander said, taking another huge portion of the steak and shoving it into his mouth.

“I’ve been given command of a wing of bombers, and a wing of fighter craft,” Lyn said, the shock written on his face reflecting the same expression on Xander’s. “Apparently my skills in the turret on the Swift Eagle convinced them that I’d do well.”

“But you’ve never flown a starfighter!” Xander said, taking a large swig of juma juice to wash down the savoury steak.

“I know, but I’ve got plenty of time to learn,” Lyn countered, “They don’t expect us to get involved in this conflict for a year or so, one war or another, so that’s plenty of time to clock up hours in the simulator.”

“But what about your classes? You can’t just abandon your students,” Xander said.

“Well... that’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” Lyn said, hesitantly, “Would you mind taking over my classes? If it’s too difficult to manage two sets, you could merge some classes together. I’d really appreciate it, and I’m sure the Council would as well.”

Xander glared at him, before breaking into a grin, “Fine, fine. I always seem to get these things dumped on me anyway. I’ve only got one more class today, so I could take your afternoon classes as well if you want so that you can start to get some practice in.”

“Thanks,” Lyn said smiling, “Now, what’s there to eat? I’m starved,” he glanced at the remains of the nerf steak on Xander’s plate. “How many of them left?”

“None,” Xander said, staring into his glass as he swilled it around, drinking the last dredges of juice left, “I ate their last four. There’s still some herb soup I’m sure, and plenty of water.”

Lyn groaned, and, with perfect timing, his stomach rumbled in response, “I can’t believe you! I’m in the Council Chambers negotiating a defence strategy, and you nick off pretending to go plan your next class just so you can guzzle down all the steaks left! You know they’re my favourite!”

“I know,” Xander said, looking up and laughing, “That’s why I asked the droid to set aside three for you.” He grinned at the look of outrage on Lyn’s face.

“You lying – cheating – I’ll get you for this,” Lyn said, leaning forwards, but he paused as his stomach rumbled again, “Right after I eat.” He stood, and rushed over to the kitchen bench, gesturing wildly for his steaks.

Xander chuckled to himself again, and begun on his desert, a chocolate blue ice cream that looked and smelled delicious. He turned to watch as Lyn carefully made his way back to the table, the three steaks balanced carefully on his tray, as his drink floated along beside him.

As Lyn sat down again, Xander turned serious, “What’s to be my role in this conflict – if it does reach us? You know I hate commanding people, it makes me feel like they’re just lining up to die because I told them to.”

“I know, I spoke to the Council about that. They said you have the choice of staying at the Temple and training Padawans in the art of war, or you could serve on the frontline. It’s ultimately your choice though.”

Xander paused, thinking in amazement at how quickly he had begun to think over how to best plan what to do during the war, and war hadn’t even been declared on them yet! “I think I’ll serve best on the frontline, perhaps, though, on covert missions, rather than all out battles. You know, I hate to mess up my hair.”

Lyn snorted, “That hair looked better with the dreadlocks, you should have left them in.”

“But they clashed with my new tan,” Xander said, grinning at his friend, the troubles that had plagued his mind a few hours ago fading away as he joked with his best friend. There was no where in the Galaxy he would rather be.

Xander Vos

Chapter Two

**45 ABY (Six Years into the Darth Dude Conflict)**

Outskirts – Kashyyyk

Xander crept along silently, the Baxthrax Jedi Knight, Morgz, flew softly to his side, and Xander’s new Apprentice, Cain Mhoon, crept along behind his Master. The three of them had been sent to Kashyyyk to examine a slaving facility the Empire of Darth Dude had set up.

Shortly after the war had begun, the Kroprulan Empire had sent out a distress call, explaining who this new enemy was, and warning that anyone allying themselves with this Empire would be killed by Darth Dude, for he allied with none. Xander hadn’t heard much of it, but it sounded as if Dude was out for personal revenge against the Sith for some act that they had committed against him.

Whatever it was, Emperor Dude and his Empire were no longer considered possible allies, and early talks had even begun of a possible Bakuran-Kroprulu Alliance, to start winning back battles against Darth Dude.

The Emperor was apparently capturing Wookiee slaves for something, and Xander had been sent to stop them, no matter what, and perhaps destroy the slave camp. Morgz, a Baxthrax Jedi Knight, one of those present in the initial Jedi Council Meeting, had been sent with him, as a partner to help. Only two years ago, Xander had taken Cain as his Apprentice, and the Council had decided that the boy was competent enough to be sent on this mission.

Dark times, however, had befallen Xander since the beginning of the war. Five years before, the ORS had received word that the Jewel of the Force that Vikro had apparently sacrificed himself to destroy had survived, and Xander, as well as much of the original team, had set out to destroy it once and for all.

Once there, they had discovered Vikro to still be alive, but only once Xander had fallen under the Jewel’s spell and become Darth Cious. He and Lyn had duelled, until the Jewel had – hopefully – been permanently, destroyed. Lyn had been promoted to Jedi Master for his actions, and Xander had been put under close watch. He wasn’t, however, punished, as Vikro had also been under the Jewel’s spell when they had first seen him, as Darth Vicarious.

Xander shook the thoughts from his mind as they came into sight of the slave site. He threw up a hand to silence Cain as he puffed slightly from the exertion of crawling on their hands and knees for so long. Cain moved slowly towards Xander, as Morgz hovered softly above Xander’s shoulders.

Xander pulled out a pair of macro-binoculars, and scoped in on the main gate into the camp. There were two towers on either side, with guards standing alert and at attention at the top. The only side gate that Xander could see required voice identification, and had no apparent observation on it.

“Morgz,” Xander whispered, and nodded his head in the direction of the door. The Baxthrax Jedi Knight nodded in understanding, and buzzed his way softly over towards the door, manipulating the controls to slide open before him, the voice identification buzzing softly as it “recognised” his voice amongst its designated sound waves. In reality, Morgz had altered the pitch of his wings to match the pitch of one of the sound waves, the equivalent of a human picking a lock.

As he slid through the door, Xander turned to Cain, and nodded at the boy, and the pair crawled away, positioning themselves in front of the main gate. Xander looked up just in time to see Morgz come tearing up the stairs, sapphire blade extended, and slash the two guards across their shoulders as they reached for their weapons, turning to face him. They slumped forwards, and Morgz fiddled with a set of controls. Moments later, the access hatch slid smoothly open, and Xander and Cain jogged in.

Xander navigated a pathway, and met up with Morgz again around the next bend. “Good work,” Xander said, grinning, “Now comes the hard part, taking out the installation without harming the captives.”

“That’s the thing,” Morgz said, troubled, “They all seem to be dead already. The controls at the sentry ports contained bio-scans, which revealed deaths throughout the prisoners from some sort of toxin.

Xander thought for a moment, “We should all don aqua breathers, just in case its air borne, and eliminate the enemy. That was our main objective in the first place, and maybe we can find something to tell us more about what this toxin is.”

Dude Slave Outpost – Kashyyyk

Xander blocked a fiery bolt, redirecting it back into the chest of the man who had fired the bolt. He shrieked, falling back, crashing to the floor. With his death the room fell eerily silent, as Morgz returned to his side, the resistance in this room eliminated.

“Only the main compound remains,” Xander commented, as they relieved the dead men of their weapons, taking them to a slowly growing pile accumulating near the entrance.

They turned back, and navigated the hall ways, coming to the final door that they were sure would have been barricaded by now. Once they had eliminated the first sentry guards, they knew that communications would have spread like wildfire. Sure enough, each room they had entered had had men prepared for a hard fight, and they had sustained several injuries as a result.

Xander ignited his lightsaber, and shoved it cleanly through the door at the top, and begun the slow process of slicing through the door. On the other side he heard the click of several blasters as they doubtlessly trained themselves immediately on the glowing tip of his emerald blade.

Morgz and Cain moved into position, their ignited blades poised to defend Xander as soon as blaster bolts were fired. Xander finished one edge of the door, and moved on to the shorter top. Sure enough, as he finished it, and the door begun to crumple, revealing a small gap into the joining room, through which blaster fire began to pour. Morgz and Cain snapped their lightsabers to and fro, sending the bolts spinning into the walls with small hisses.

Xander finished dismantling the door, and sprang through, Cain and Morgz in his wake, as a thermal detonator was thrown through the door and into the room they had just vacated. They slashed and swiped at the men gathered, flipping over their heads. Then, with impeccable timing, they Force Pushed the men over the barricades and into the room, bringing the door back up to shelter them before they were thrown to the floor from the shock waves of the enormous explosion.

Finally, after what seemed like an hour, and their ears stopped ringing, they slowly got to their feet, and looked around the large room, that seemed to be the brain-centre of the outpost. Morgz moved over to one of the computer ports, and begun hacking into the system, his scaly hands clicking rapidly over the keys.

Xander paced the room, sizing it up, trying to figure out what it, and the compound could possibly have been used for.

“I’m in,” announced Morgz, and Xander moved over to lean behind him. “It seems the compound was being used to test a super-virus, which Dude’s scientists believe could prove an end to the war – with their victory. No name is provided for the virus however, and it doesn’t seem that there are any samples stored in the system.”

Xander frowned slightly, perturbed at the result. He would have expected that the scientists working at the facility would have kept full records of their experiments, especially the one that seemed to be the main experiment at the facility, “Is there a higher security clearance needed for more records?”

Morgz shook his head, “No, the records end there. Since there aren’t any prisoners left alive, and we’ve done all we can, should we head back? We have all the information we need.”

Xander paused, indecisive. They were here in an enemy compound, and yet they were about to surrender any hidden information it contained to the fiery explosion they planned to set off upon their departure. He hissed air softly between his teeth, vexed at the outcome. “Alright,” he finally relented, “Let’s get out of here.”

Mygeeto

Darth Mauv spun, running forwards, his lightsaber hissing in the slight snow fall on Mygeeto. He stopped, and turned, his troops halted, dropped to their knees, and fired, cutting through the line of Kroprulan Soldiers that had lined the path, dictating that this would be the end of the line for one of the two large armies.

Darth Mauv roared and rushed forwards as the two sides met, his soldiers putting away their rifles in favour of vibro-swords for close combat fighting, as their ancient AT-AT war tanks lumbered past, blowing apart the weaker AT-ST walkers in use by Kroprulu. They would have AT-AT war machines coming, but they seemed not to have arrived yet. Darth Mauv smirked, he would take full advantage of this fact.

“Bring in the B12 Juggernauts!” Darth Mauv roared, his voice carrying over the cacophony roaring around him. He swung his lightsaber, slicing a Kroprulan cleanly through the chest when he got too close.

A large rumbling shook the ground, and some of the Kroprulan troops began to falter, stepping back in fear, only the Sith fighting on, barely noticing the arrival of these war behemoths. Darth Mauv smirked as the heavy turbo-laser turrets opened up on the remaining AT-STs, tearing them literally apart where they stood.

One of the Kroprulan Sith turned, perhaps noticing for the first time that Darth Mauv had cut through the mass of their troops, and was beginning to encircle the two separated halves. He shouted hoarsely to his allies, and they began sprinting full pelt towards Darth Mauv.

Darth Mauv closed his eyes, calming himself, ignoring the battle raging around him. When he opened his eyes, he grinned evilly, his secondary shoto lightsaber springing to life, the white blade near invisible amongst the snow around them. He leapt towards the Sith Warriors, slicing and hacking at them, spinning and feinting, as he sensed the Sith Warriors immediately falter in the face of a powerful opponent.

Throwing his shoto suddenly, one of the Warriors choked out a surprised cry as the lightsaber suddenly appeared in his sternum. Darth Mauv sent a stream of Force Lightening crashing into the Warrior to his right, sending him smoking to the ground, before summoning his blade back to him.

Darth Mauv turned to face the two remaining Warriors, sensing their caution at his skill. One stepped to his left as the other stepped to his right, and as they readied themselves, Darth Mauv felt them slip into Niman and Ataru. They spun towards him, and he raised his own blades in unison, the three of them twirling gracefully through the snow, exchanging blows, and Darth Mauv felt a grudging respect for them emerge, as he was forced to devote more and more attention to them.

Around them, Darth Mauv could hear the calls of retreat come from a commanding Sith Soldier, and the spatter of laser fire as the Juggernauts continued their barrage on the army. “You’re all alone now, Kroprulans, no one to save you, no Dark Lord to come to your rescue. Your army is in retreat. Mygeeto has fallen to the great Emperor Miedo.”

The pair looked defiantly at him, and one, sporting a sulfur blade, swung at his feet, forcing him to leap into the air, as the other’s – who carried an orange blade - feet connected with his chest, having perfectly predicted where he was to be. Darth Mauv grunted as he landed on the ground, quickly bringing his blades up as they leapt at him, intent on finishing him off.

Using their weight against them, Darth Mauv bent backwards, putting pressure on his spine, and sending them flipping over his head. As they flew over his head, Darth Mauv swung out with his ruby blade, and was greeted with a roar of pain, and a thud as the Warrior with the sulfur blade’s leg landed on the ground a metre from its master. The Warrior collapsed to the ground, writhing in pain, as Darth Mauv put him out of his misery, the electric blue of the lightning morphing his features as he slowly burnt to death.

Darth Mauv turned to the final Kroprulan, and hissed in jest as the boy – for he couldn’t have been more than twenty – showed true fear on his face, as Darth Mauv’s army pinned their blasters on him, his own army well in retreat, the Juggernauts and AT-ATs in pursuit.

“Leave him for me,” Darth Mauv commanded, not taking his eyes off the quivering wreck in front of him. Leaping at the boy, he swung high with his ruby blade, which the boy blocked, not noticing the shoto that flew through the air and into his chest, his eyes widening in silent surprise as the Living Force left his body. Darth Mauv held there for a second, two, then deactivated his blades, stepping back from the dead body, spitting on it before turning back to his troops, raising his reignited red blade in the air, roaring in triumph.

His men roared in unison, the wild, animal cheer, erupting from them as if from a single organism. “Today is a mighty victory for the Emperor!” Darth Mauv shouted, his voice carrying over the thousands of men who had survived the battle, “Today is the day that, in countless generations, shall be looked back on as the point at which it was recognised there is no longer any hope for the filthy Kroprulans!”

Xander Vos

Chapter Three

**48 ABY (Nine Years into the Darth Dude Conflict)**

Old CIS Camp – Maridun

Xander Vos stood, his hair swaying in the breeze, as he surveyed their camp site. They had driven Darth Dude’s forces back, almost off the planet, however he sensed that their next move could lead them into a trap. He would have to tread cautiously.

After the events of Kashyyyk, three years before, Xander had been given command of a large battalion of Sith Soldiers. It felt strange, to Xander, to be leading men – despite their lack of Force Sensitivity – who held a strong loyalty to the Kroprulan Sith, to whom Xander had been bitter enemies no less than ten years before.

However, with the coming of Darth Dude, desperate measures had been called for, and commanding Sith Soldiers was merely one of them. A heavy defeat on Mygeeto in the same year had splintered apart much of the Empire’s Outer Rim holdings, with a large spearhead of Dude forces taking worlds throughout that sector in the following year.

What they had not counted on, however, was the Bakuran Enclaves vicious attacks coming from what Dude’s forces considered to be their rear. They had armoured their frontline, and left their worlds that they considered far behind their lines open and exposed for the Jedi to attack.

Within the space of a few months, the Jedi had re-taken Cerea, Sullust, and Sluis Van, and forced the Emperor to split his forces between the Eastern front against the Kroprulan Empire, and the Western front against the Jedi. The war, however seemed no where near its end. Xander sighed, unwilling to accept the fact that billions, if not trillions of men and women around the Galaxy would die over the next decades to defend their free will against this Emperor Dude.

He shook off the debilitating thought. He must focus his mind on what matters. There here, and the now. He must win this fight. He must drive Dude’s forces off Maridun. He must strike the first major victory against Darth Dude, if nothing more than to give hope to those that had none left.

“Sir,” a Sith soldier said, jogging over to him and taking his visor off, to reveal a youthful face, of no more than twenty, with brown curls hanging low over his violet eyes, “Reports tell us that Darth Dude’s forces are hoping to make a final stand just over the ridge. Their forces number no more than fifty thousand, however.”

“Thank you Jax,” Xander said, smiling at the Captain, “Gather all available foot soldiers, and organise them for battle. We will send our tanks and assault vehicles over first, to soften them up, cover our soldiers with mortar fire, then pounce on them whilst they are disorganised.”

“Very good sir,” Jax nodded, hurrying off to convey his General’s orders, to the Sith General by Xander’s side, a Darth Basidyus, who Xander distrusted despite the uneasy alliance between the Jedi and the Sith.

Xander stared off into the distance, towards the plains where Darth Dude’s forces would be making their final stand for this planet after months of fighting. For the first time, a shadow of doubt crossed Xander’s mind. Throughout this campaign, he had fought one-sided battles against an overwhelmed force, never present at the battles at which Darth Dude’s forces won. What if he died? What would happen to Mia? To his children? For the first time Xander Vos contemplated his own death, on that very plain ten kilometres from their camp. It was unthinkable.

He tightened his grip on his lightsaber, clipped to his belt. He would not die. Just the thought of widowing his wife, of abandoning his children, gave him fresh resolve. He would win. He must win. For them. For wives and children around the Galaxy. For those who yearned to be free from this vicious war. For those who had been harmed by this war.

On The Fields Of Battle

Dust stirred in the air, though nothing else moved. The ground was silent, but at the same time, an undercurrent of danger ran through the air like a strong, electrical pulse, ever present, but barely perceivable. Xander stood in an AT-AT’s forward command room, at the top of the hulking beast, gazing down on the empty scene. Soon, very soon, the battle for Maridun would begin, and when it did, he would be ready.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the small black specks that were Darth Dude’s troops appeared over the horizon, and the Battle for Maridun began.

Xander ordered the AT-AT walkers and AT-ST walkers forwards, with the speeders and swoop bikes moving ahead in a defensive formation, much like fighter craft did for their behemoth protector craft in the space conflicts of the war. The Sith, Basidyus led the foot soldiers forwards, his gleaming red lightsaber cutting a bright beacon over the slowly darkening landscape, met by the gleams of the lightsabers of the Jedi and Sith throughout the flanks of the troops, the Apprentices, the Padawans, and the fledgling Knights serving in their first battle of the war. Xander knew many would die, and his heart felt heavy as he knew he was sending them to their deaths.

“Fire,” Xander ordered, and the AT-AT shuddered, as the turbo-lasers blazed, cutting swathes through the air, and smashing through the forward ranks of Dude’s troops. Seconds later, the air was filled with lasers, as the walkers around him followed suit. Xander felt a smirk of satisfaction fill his face as he realised Dude’s commanders had made a mistake in believing walkers would not be a factor in this battle due to the terrain.

The few walkers that Dude had sent, met with the swoops and speeders Xander had sent ahead. They spun around the larger walkers, like flies around a large beast, with it taking less than a minute to make short work of the walkers, leaving the ground troops defenceless to Xander’s walker contingent, as Acrimonus’ men exchanged laser fire with the ground soldiers, slowly moving closer to the troops.

“Cease fire,” Xander ordered, as Basidyus’ men finally met, exchanging blows with vibroblades or lightsabers. Dude’s men fell before the superior force of the Jedi and Sith, but the same was the case when Dude’s own Acolytes clashed with the Sith troops.

“Commander, I’m going down, they need me,” ordered Xander, and moved to the back of the walker, suppressing any argument in the man by his side. He flung open the hatch, and leapt to the leafy plain below landing gently on the ground, his lightsaber ignited in his hand, his cloak billowing behind him. Xander grinned, imagining he looked like the regular Holonet drama star, the cliched Jedi hero, riding into the sunset to save the day.

The walkers fell silent as Xander rushed forward, with the aid of the Force, to join the soldiers in battle. Stray laser blasts that had overshot their initial targets met his lightsaber as he batted them aside, back into the armour of the troops who had fired them. Throwing his lightsaber, Xander was met with the satisfying sizzle and moan as it met the gap in the armour at the soldiers neck who stood opposite Xander. Xander leapt forward, grabbing the lightsaber from the dead man’s neck, pushing off the man’s body, and into the path of another soldier, decapitating him in a swift blow.

Slowly, Xander worked his way through the forces, to the patches at which his men were struggling most, where the Acolytes of Darkness – as they had been nicknamed by his troops – held their own against the regular men. One in particular, a Whipid wielding a sulfur blade shot lightning into a group of men who had surrounded her. The men screamed and fell, smoking, to the ground, their sounds muffled by the roar of battle around them, only being heard in Xander’s mind, adding to his heart ache, a dozen more men who he had failed.

“The tide of the war turns,” he declared to the Whipid, “You would do well to surrender before we eradicate the Force-forsaken lot of you from this Galaxy.”

“A Jedi making threats,” the Whipid said in indignation, “This Galaxy is getting stranger and stranger. Perhaps the Galaxy you defend is not the Galaxy you fight in?”

“I am what you have made me, Acolyte,” Xander snarled, as he circled her, neither side’s fire nearing them, for fear of hitting either of their commanders, “And if this is the path the Galaxy must take to be rid of you, then perhaps that is the path it must take. Now, I give you one last chance. Surrender, or die.”

“I would die before I see the day that I bow before a weak Jedi. The false Sith are tragic imitations of the truth, but at least they embrace the Dark, you fear it, as you fear everything else.”

“I fear nothing!” Xander screamed, raising his hand, and sending a jet of lightening towards the Whipid, who required all her reflexes merely to block it from killing her where she stood, her wide eyes testament to the strength behind the shot.

“Perhaps I underestimated you, Jedi, or are you a Sith?” She said, preparing for the duel that was to come.

“I am a Jedi who has taken the path necessary so that others may live in peace and harmony, so that others may see the sun rise each day, and set in the evening. I do what I must, so that others have no need to do anything but enjoy the lives they have ahead of them,” Xander said, his voice thundering as he leaped forward, to strike his blade against her’s.

“Spare me the drabble, Jedi, you’re just as weak and pathetic as the rest of them,” the Whipid said, whirling her blade, taking a shot at Xander’s neck. Xander calmly countered the blow, kicking at her chest, although she leapt away, pushing off the ground to leap at his face once she recovered. Xander ducked, performing a neat back flip, and smashing her flat in the chest, sending her shooting two metres into the air.

As she began her descent, she positioned herself, her lightsaber in front, to strike a blow at Xander’s head. Leaping aside, Xander swung his lightsaber, cutting cleanly through her neck. As she landed, her body crumpled into the ground, crushing her head.

Around him, Xander heard the sound he had longed to hear: cheering. Looking up, he saw Dude’s forces in complete retreat before the Sith soldiers, who’s fire cut into the backs’ of the fleeing forces, killing all but a few hundred.

Old CIS Camp – Maridun

Xander stood, clasping hands with Darth Basidyus, smiling into the young man’s face. The battle for Maridun had been won, and now they could return to their respective Order’s and receive commendations from their Commanders-In-Chief, Empress Chick and Grandmaster Abba, who had achieved a tentative friendship of sorts, as much as a Sith Empress and a Jedi Grandmaster could.

On return to camp, Xander had been notified that Vikro and other Jedi Masters were interested on beginning discussion of creating a reformed Republic along the Western Front of the Galaxy to combat Darth Dude’s forces, whilst the Sith Empire focussed completely upon the Eastern Front.

“We fought well,” Xander said, grinning into the face of a man who only ten years ago Xander would have killed on sight.

“That we did,” Basidyus agreed, “My troops will always be willing to serve under you. I heard of the duel you fought with that Whipid Acolyte in the dying hour of the battle, they seem to have earned a great respect for you.”

Xander shifted uncomfortably, “What else did they tell you about the battle?”

Basidyus stared at him for a minute, his eyes telling the woeful story that Xander hoped would not be said aloud, “Enough,” he said finally, “But the Sith respect strength, we applaud it. It would be a shame for such a... strong Jedi Knight to be decommissioned unexpectedly.”

Xander smiled gratefully at the Sith, and received a wink in reply. Despite his early opinion of the man, Basidyus was turning out to be quite a good man, far better than Xander had expected. Perhaps this was due in part to Basidyus’ apprenticeship under Lord Minious, the man Xander swore he would kill. Basidyus had told him, however, at the beginning of their fight on the planet, that Minious had disappeared nearly ten years ago, in the first year of the war, and hadn’t been seen since. Xander sighed regretfully, knowing even if Minious was still present, they would be forced to work together as allies, not fight as enemies.

“I do hope this alliance will last,” Xander said, “Our efforts to create an effective resistance on the Western Front may in fact mean, however that our joint efforts will lessen, but I must admit, ventures such as this are very profitable to both our Orders, and I would hope your Empress does not abandon them due to bad blood of the past.”

“If I have anything to say about it, that will not happen,” Basidyus promised, solemnly.

“Then good luck for the future,” Xander said.

“And you as well,” Basidyus said.

Council Chambers – Bakura

“The recent defeat of Dude’s troops on Maridun, and the progression of the Iridonian Civil War into a full blown conflict shall mean Dude will have a lot to worry about before he can consider a renewed assault on our front lines.” Vikro said, “The Iridonians are apparently overwhelming Dude’s forces stationed on Iridonia and its surrounding worlds, and Xander’s thorough victory on Maridun, with heavy casualties for Dude means that Dude is in heavy need to preserve his troops.”

Jaden nodded, “I must say, recently Xander Vos has proved himself more and more as a candidate for Mastership. Despite his slight lapse and fall to the Dark Side some time ago in the rescue of Vikro, he has again and again proved himself as a strong and valiant Knight, and it would be poor of us not to recognise that.”

Abba nodded thoughtfully, her hazel hair greying slightly in her middle-age, “I agree. I do believe however more time is needed. In a year or so, we shall re-visit this case, and if he has proved himself more and more by then, we shall have no choice but to promote him. However, I do warn you, if he is promoted and he falls again to the Dark Side, it shall be a heavy blow to us in this war. Too many Jedi are leaving to join Dude, called by their lust for justice and battle. The hope they would merely join Chick seems to have fallen short, and we must prepare for all eventualities.”

“Very well,” Vikro said, nodding, “Now, I have another proposition: the revitalisation of the Republic.”

Xander Vos

Chapter Four

**65 ABY (26 Years into the Darth Dude Conflict)**

Grey Temple - Reldar Prime

Scion paused, as an aide knocked politely on his door, looking up from the datapad he was pouring over, detailing the latest figures of losses for the Republic of Worlds Against Darth Miedo – the old Republic revived by the Jedi Council from Bakura in a hope to set up an Eastern Front to combat Miedo from both sides of the Galaxy and eventually press him closer and closer towards the Core, and worlds such as Coruscant, Byss and Corellia.

Shortly after the Invasion of Kroprulu fifteen years ago, Miedo had renamed himself Emperor Miedo, to typify the changes he was bringing to the Galaxy. Scion shook his head briefly, the arrogance of a man to change his name merely to show his dominance over the Galaxy was astonishing.

“Yes, what is it?” he said shortly, tired of being interrupted. Ever since the Grey Jedi had begun utilising Reldar Prime for training purposes, he had been made their anointed leader without having a say in the matter, and constantly had his hands full in a flat out attempt to keep the place from falling apart. What didn’t help matters was the fact that aids kept interrupting his work asking stupid, idiotic questions.

“Sir, High General Vexen regrets to inform you that he is being withdrawn to Kroprulu. It seems that there has been a bombing over Tiai City. All available forces are being withdrawn. It is believed to be the work of Emperor Miedo.”

“Well I know it would be Emperor Miedo damn it!” Scion shouted harshly, sighing heavily in vexation. “Alright, if we are to fend on our own for the time being, I want all personnel to report to their quarters for the rest of the day. No outside activities are to be permitted. If the attack on Kroprulu was in fact a diversion to draw our defences away here, and they do attack us here, the Temple should be solid enough to survive orbital bombardment, at least until we can evacuate, and if they land and fight us, we shall have the upper hand.”

The aide bowed curtly, and turned to leave the room. As the door slid shut behind him, Scion sighed again, burying his face in his hands. Tiai City. The economical epicentre of the entire Sith Empire. If Miedo had hired terrorists, or had even used his own men in the attack and somehow planted them on the surface, this war was as good as over. Despite the gradual advantages that had been built up over the last years, the Republic winning victory after victory to compensate for the Sith Empire’s struggling brawl – what else could it be called? – with Miedo. Despite all that, for the first time in the war, loosing was looking like a very real reality. If Kroprulu was no longer a safe haven, Miedo would be able to sweep the Empire aside and turn his sights on Scion’s academy, and then the Republic that was causing him massive harm, and the Galaxy would finally be his.

Let this war end soon, Scion pleaded to no one in particular, perhaps the Force, perhaps some ancient theist God that inhabited this planet as the natives believed. Too much suffering, too much death. Even if we survive this war and see it through, how will we cope when we are to return to normal lives? The quadrillions who have died already, the quadrillions who will die before this war is at an end. Such a waste... Such an awful waste.

Theed – Naboo

Jedi Master Xander Vos stood, a large data-screen installed in front of him in his chambers, his entire forces mapped out before him. His starfighters, under fellow Jedi Master Lyn Korak were landed in the Theed Hangar Bay, ready to lift off at a moment’s notice. His entire walker regiment, under the Baxthrax Jedi Knight Morgz, with whom he had served quite some time ago, almost a lifetime ago, at the war’s beginning, and his former Apprentice Cain Mhoon, standing at the head of his foot soldiers.

All were men recruited in a wave of propaganda mixed with conscription throughout the worlds of the newly reformed Republic. Ten years ago, after Vikro and other Jedi Masters, Xander included, had journeyed to various worlds surrounding Bakura, such as Bespin – where Xander himself travelled – and Sullust, where Vikro went to seek help, a few core worlds had begun the Republic of Worlds Against Darth Miedo. These four worlds became known as the Founder States, Bakura, Bespin, Sullust and Eriadu, and soon other worlds – Cerea, Belsavis, Sluis Van and others – joined, providing men and resources to help in the war against Miedo, which was becoming dire.

With this massive fluctuation in resources, the Jedi Order was able to successfully cut off from the Sith Empire, which began operating on its own against Miedo, led by the recently returned Darth Minious, winning many battles before – recently – beginning to lose again. The Jedi Order began an Eastern Front – a series of worlds became heavily guarded and were the “Frontier” where the Order would re-buff Miedo and make sure his forces made no advancements. Once the Sith managed the same, the plan was to slowly box him towards the Core, before snuffing his forces completely out.

Some Jedi, such as Jedi Knight Butler Swan and Master Jaden Nightsaber, had offered to help the Sith. The Sith had readily accepted, and so the Jedi were fighting side by side with the Kroprulan Sith against Darth Miedo, in an attempt to speed up the process, and bring about a faster end to the war that had already plagued the Galaxy well into its twenty sixth year.

One of these heavily guarded worlds was Naboo, right on the brink between Jedi and Miedo Space. It had been grounds to many heavy battles through the war, with differing results. Over the past years, however, the Jedi forces had won the majority, as it was one of their main focal points for the war. Now, however, Miedo was attempting to break through their barricade and spear into the heart of the Jedi on Bakura. Recent reports told Xander that they had already achieved their aim on Kroprulu – Tiai City had been bombed by as-yet unknown assailants, and the economic capital of the Empire had been obliterated.

Xander shook his head. He would not – could not – let that happen to Bakura. It had been his home for nearly as long as he could remember – despite constantly being shipped off to the front ever since this blasted war had started. He needed it to be there not so much as a place he could be happy, but as a place for him to always have in his mind, a last refuge if ever anything went too wrong. When he had been younger, during the Yuuzhan Vong war, he had always told himself, if the Order was defeated at every turn, they would at least have Bakura. At least have one planet that would always be theirs, where no one could defeat them.

Now that he was older, Xander could see the naivety in the comment, but still hoped beyond hope that it could remain true. The Star Defenders surrounding the world had grown in number since the original fifteen had been built, with the opening of more shipyards. And the revelation of their Order to the Bakuran Government meant that the Star Defenders were no longer droid controlled, but manned by real men who could think and feel and react in situations far better than droids. At least with this knowledge in his mind, Xander knew that his home was safe and secure. For the moment. For the time being.

If Miedo succeeded in defeating them here, though, then Bakura had no chance against the full might of this man’s – alien, Xander corrected himself, thinking of Miedo as a man, as another human being, the same as himself, could prove to be dangerous – army. Xander – and the Jedi and Sith Orders – were still bewildered at how Miedo could continue to send so many troops to the front lines, when they were so visibly draining his armies. If they could somehow find out the worlds he was using as reserves, perhaps this war could be over in only a few years.

“Xander,” Lyn’s crackling voice said, coming over the comm, breaking into Xander’s thoughts.

“Hmm? Yes, what is it? Any news?” Xander said, shaking himself clear of the thoughts swirling through his head. He’d been thinking too much. Miedo’s forces could have materialised above the planet, and with only the Guardian and the Purity in orbit, they could have come under siege before Xander had even reacted.

“Reports are coming in of Hyperspace anomalies. Large ones, near Storm. Tacticians believe that the gas giant will in fact drag them out of Hyperspace. We’ll have plenty of time to get the men to their fighters and prepare to meet them out there. Judging by the size though, we’ll only be able to draw you time to gather your forces in the perfect set up to trump them though, not actually stand a chance to defeat them ourselves,” Lyn said, sounding doubtful. “We’ll be forced to retreat back to Bakura, because if we don’t, we’re going to be suffering a lot of casualties, if we stay, we’ll only be throwing lives away needlessly.”

“Very well, get the men to their fighters, I’ll have Cain and Morgz get their units into position. Once you signal me, I’ll open a comm channel with the three of you so we can all contact each other if necessary. As soon as you feel unable to continue the fight, pull out of their. You are a brilliant fighter Lyn, we can’t afford to lose you,” Xander said solemnly.

“Thank you Xander,” Lyn said, “May the Force be with you.”

“And you.”

Super Star Destroyer Titan

Darth Mauv stood at the helm of the great craft as it sped through hyperspace, feeling the vibrations of the behemoth beneath his feet as they sped onwards, towards Naboo. He had been tasked with breaking through the Western Front, as it had became known, and taking the Jedi stronghold, Bakura.

His recent successes against the Sith along the Eastern Front had led Miedo to believe that Mauv was one of his most valuable men, and was one of the few he could trust in taking on the Jedi. The Jedi seemed to be faring much better against Miedo’s thrusts into their territory than the Sith of the Kroprulan Empire, who were now in disarray over a mysterious bombing of one of their capital cities a few days prior.

“Sir, we have almost reached the Naboo system. As ordered, we have directed flight towards the gas giant of the system to drag us out in the best possible position to take on the Jedi stationed on the surface. Estimated reports state that only a small contingent would be waiting on the surface, logically, with so many planets along the front and the heavy casualties they have sustained so far,” an officer said, throwing a hurried salute as he repeated the information he had been given.

“Very good. We shall have to hope that Captain Needa’s idea to use the gas giant as an anchor for the good of surprise was a good one, or else this shall all be for nought,” he said, his steely gaze filling the junior officer with fear.

“Y-yes sir,” the young man stuttered, anxious to get back to his post, away from this Sith, who was filling his very fibre with a heavy sense of dread.

“Dismissed,” Mauv said, holding the ensigns eyes in his steely gaze for another moment, before turning away, preparing for the task at hand: taking Naboo, and shattering the Jedi rebellion to the Emperor’s might.

“Flight Officer Syral, what were the final numbers for our fleet?” Mauv said, directing his attention to a blonde woman sitting at a dataport, her shoulders hunched over her datapad.

“Aside from the Titan and Imperial-class Star Destroyers, Vanquish, Equinox and Dominator, we have five Corellian Corvettes, a Carrack-Cruiser, twenty-five full squadrons of TIE Fighters, as well as ten squadrons each of TIE Defenders, TIE Bombers, Interceptors and TIE Phantoms. Land forces consist of seven squadrons of AT-AT walkers, twenty AT-ST squadrons, and fifty Speeder Bike squadrons,” Tyria Syral listed. Mauv’s mood lightened with each listing of their forces.

He had been originally assigned only the Titan and its compliment of various TIE starfighters, however he had been notified that reinforcements would be sent his way, and before the last jump they had arrived. Now he knew just how strong his force was. They could not lose.

“Sir, reversion to real space eminent,” Flight Officer Tarkin called from his desk.

Mauv smiled, “Excellent. Prepare to engage the enemy and wipe these pathetic Jedi from the Galaxy once and for all.”

The viewport in front of him suddenly shifted from the swirling light blue of hyperspace to the star studded sky of realspace. The gas giant that had pulled them out of orbit loomed in front of them, larger than life. And with them, a large complement of Jedi craft, all seemingly prepared for battle, and a contingent of starfighters already speeding towards them.

Mauv swore and turned to Captain Needa who had entered the room moments before. Mauv raised his hand, clenching his fist closed in a quick movement, ending Needa’s life without a hesitation. The face blotchy with the patches of blood that had sharply risen to the face, thudded loudly as it hit the grating. Mauv turned back to the men and women, who had paused from their work.

“What are the lot of you looking at? Let Needa’s mistake be a lesson to all of you. If we are defeated today, you will all be punished... severely,” Mauv snarled, “Now get working! We have a battle to win! A Galaxy to conquer!”

Xander Vos

Chapter Five

**65 ABY (26 Years into the Darth Dude Conflict)**

Outer Atmosphere - Naboo

Lyn Korak, Jedi Master, sat in his XJ-7 Starfighter, hovering anxiously near the Star Defender, Purity. The rest of his squadron, Silver Squadron, sat behind him, forming a V-shape, with Lyn being the point. His other two Squadrons, Red and Blue, were performing similar manoeuvres near the other Star Defender, Guardian, or in open space. Other starfighter squadrons – some made up of E-Wings, others of K-Wing Bombers, and others N-7s and N-Es, supplied by the local military.

Intel suggested that at any moment, Miedo’s forces were going to drop out of Hyperspace near Storm. Once the tacticians had told Lyn this, he had roused men to their stations, sending his men out in their squadrons, ready for the fight. In this peace before the storm, Lyn contemplated his men. They were loyal, and that’s what mattered above all else. Perhaps it was because of the belief that Lyn would never ask them to do something that he himself wouldn’t do. Lyn smiled, the day the Council had told him he would be given a wing of Jedi had been the proudest day of his life. Knowing he was leading brilliant Jedi fighter pilots such as Gihn Hill and Zak Silber – the two Squadron commanders of Red and Blue Squadrons respectively – had given him the resolve he needed to know that he was the right choice for the position.

“Head’s up Sil Two,” Lyn said, easing back on his thrusters, “We’ve got company, my sensors are saying the Sith are almost here. Get ready, this is where the fun begins.”

“Roger sir,” Silver Two, Shyraka Layne, a Chev woman said. Shyraka had always shown an interest in flying, and had learnt some choice manoeuvres from Xander Vos himself.

“Here they come,” Lyn said, as with a flicker of pseudomotion, the space near Storm suddenly flickered, and in an instant was filled with nine craft – a Super Star Destroyer, three Imperial Star Destroyers, and five Corellian Corvettes. Lyn cursed, this had suddenly gone from a manageable situation, to a disaster.

“Sil Squadron, Red Squadron, form up, we’re after the fighters. Blue Squadron, focus firepower on Corellian Corvettes, they’ll offer you the least trouble. Let our big guns handle the Super and Imps.”

“Roger Silver leader,” came the chorus of replies from various pilots. Lyn smiled, yes, they were certainly loyal. Even in the face of overwhelming odds they stood firm.

“Split into pairs, wing mates, stay slightly behind your wing partner, and try and drive the star fighters towards the Star Defenders. They’ll find it harder to react with so many threats around them,” Lyn said, and followed his own lead, spiralling off from the rest of the group, Shyraka falling into step behind him.

Even as Lyn’s wing spread out, the Imps and Super Star Destroyer began releasing their various TIE fighters. Lyn spotted Phantoms, Bombers, Defenders, Interceptors, and the standard TIE fighter.

“Shy,” Lyn said, slipping into informality on their private channel, “Lets take that squadron of Interceptors, they seem to be lagging behind a bit, shouldn’t be too much of a problem.”

“Fine,” Shyraka said, and Lyn could just picture a smirk on her face, “Lets see if you can manage to beat me this time.”

“I only got five last time because my aft thruster burned out! If that hadn’t happened I would have easily been able to take out heaps more,” Lyn said with indignation, speeding towards the oncoming squadron, as firefights leapt out everywhere, as squadrons met in a clash of bright lights.

“Whatever you say sir,” Shyraka said. Her craft peeled off as they finally hit the TIE Interceptors.

Lyn flipped his craft on its side, flying between two TIE fighters, blasting one of them in half, the other flying away almost perpendicular to Lyn’s craft to avoid his fire. Shyraka flipped her craft so her craft’s belly pointed “up” in the sense that it was flying so that she was looking “up” at Naboo. Concentrating, she deftly weaved between two oncoming craft, lining up a TIE in her targeting system, and squeezed the trigger, watching in satisfaction as it lit up the space in front of her, as she flew through the debris cloud.

Lyn grinned. Shyraka was certainly very skilled, the Force adding to her already amazing piloting skills. “Good shot,” he said, as he bit his tongue gently, as a light peppering of fire hit his tail. Breaking suddenly, reversing the power couplings and a quick wrench of the yoke, spun his craft around in a complex manoeuvre that would have torn the old T-65 X-Wings apart. Almost close enough to see the look of shock on the pilots face, Lyn fired one quick shot, shattering the viewport on the TIE, and sucking the pilot out in to space. Lyn accelerated above the TIE to avoid the tumbling remains, and turned to rejoin Shyraka – they had drifted quite far apart.

Too far. As Lyn turned, he saw Shyraka desperately twisting and turning, unable to shake a TIE Interceptor from her tail. Lyn pushed his thrusters to the maximum, and past, in an effort to reach her, but TIE Interceptors were fast, even faster than the new X-J 7s. As Lyn watched, the TIE’s lasers burned through her rear shields, and in a bright light, her engines blew. Her craft spun off at a crazy angle, spiralling towards the gas giant near the battle, Storm.

Screaming in rage, Lyn targeted the Interceptor, and held down his trigger until his lasers had left nothing behind of the TIE except for a rapidly expanding ball of gas. His copilot, who had served with him in every battle of this long and bloody war, had died just when the general perception was that the war was near its end. How cruel the Force could be.

His R9 unit whistled a warning, and Lyn shook himself clear of his thoughts, as he registered that a TIE Phantom had locked on to his tail, and had a missile lock on him. “This is Silver Leader, requesting assistance, stat,” Lyn said, and sent his X-J into a series of twists and turns, which the Phantom matched perfectly. His R9 squealed, announcing that a missile had been launched. Killing his thrusters, and reversing his power couplings in a repeat of his earlier manoeuvre, Lyn fired once, twice, three times, and was relieved to see the concussion missile disappear into a brilliant explosion. Swinging out of the way for the expected Phantom to come screaming through, Lyn almost hesitated when it did not come.

“I saved your skin back there, lead, you’d better give me some sort of promotion for that,” grumbled Gihn Hill, leader of Red Squadron jokingly.

Lyn grinned, “Don’t worry, I’ll save you an extra nerf steak and caf at the next meet, Gihn.” Suddenly he sobered though, “I’ve lost Shyraka though. There was nothing I could do, I was too far off her mark.”

Gihn’s voice turned grim as well, “I’ve lost two in my squadron, Pyrekka, and Sly Possa. Good news, Blue Squadron reports no casualties, and target destroyed. I suggest we get out of here and cut our winnings while we’re ahead.”

“I agree,” Lyn said, and flicked a switch on his board, broadcasting to all of Delta Wing, “This is Sil Leader, all squadrons rendezvous at my mark, and jump to Hyperspace on my mark.”

“Roger Sil leader,” came a few replies, others merely muttered a few choice words that Lyn would later claim he never heard.

Within minutes, the entire Wing – or what was left of it – gathered around Lyn’s craft, well clear of the invasion craft as they began to descend towards the planet. Purity and Guardian had taken a beating, but were holding on, and as the invasion craft began landing on Naboo, they began recalling their fighters, preparing for their own jump out of system. No doubt their commanders had commed ahead to the closest rally point – probably Malastare – requesting reinforcements for a staged return to Naboo.

On the bright side, however, only the Super Star Destroyer looked unharmed. Blue Squadron had done their job and more – three Corellian Corvettes were just blackened hulks drifting in space, the other two under heavy fire from other Squadrons, and even as Lyn watched another succumbed to fire. Two of the three Imperial Star Destroyers were lisping badly, and the third was on an outward vector, preparing for a jump to hyperspace. Only the Super Star Destroyer was bearing down with no difficulties – only the Guardian and Purity firing on it, and its shields easily soaking up the damage.

“Xander’s got one hell of a battle on his hands,” murmured Lyn, concerned for his friend’s safety. If the Super Star Destroyer decided that its job was done, and taking Naboo was no issue, they may decide to just bombard the planet, wiping out all life in the capital cities. Lyn only hoped that they could regroup and stage a return to Naboo and relieve the pressure from Xander more than they had done so. “May the Force be with you, Xander,” Lyn said, and then pulled back his lever, jumping to Hyperspace, headed towards Malastare.

Xander Vos

Chapter Six

**65 ABY (26 Years into the Darth Dude Conflict)**

Theed – Naboo

Xander bit down on his lip with worry. The Purity and Guardian had made their jumps successfully – only a few squadrons had volunteered to remain behind to pester the capital ships, who had themselves withdrawn most of their fighter screens. What worried Xander was the increasing number of craft making it through their Anti-Air Turrets. At first they had been extremely effective, but more and more of Miedo’s craft were slipping through, to land in the marsh land near Theed.

Xander looked, almost unconsciously across at the screens showing the readings for Morgz’s walkers, and Cain’s men, as they stood, ready and waiting, in the plains near Theed. Then, almost caught up in the moment, Xander gave a bitter smile. At the start of the war, when it was thought it would be nothing more than a conflict between the Sith Empire and some disgruntled planet – oh how wrong they’d been! – he had sworn never to coordinate a battle, for he didn’t want good men dying under him.

But ever since his actions at places such as Kashyyyk, and Maridun, the Council had decided that he would be most effective serving as the overseer, and not actually on the ground. Oh how he longed to switch positions with Cain, or with Morgz, or even with Lyn, who had already commed him, saying he was clear and safe. But Xander was respectful of the Council’s wishes – he would never go against them.

“Orders, Master,” Cain said, waiting patiently. Xander had commed him as soon as he had received word that Lyn and the naval forces had delayed Miedo’s men as long as possible, to tell him to prepare for the coming battle.

“Spread your men out into a thin line, with Morgz’s walkers in front of your line, acting as a screen. Allow them to go into battle first, to wear away at Miedo’s own walkers. Get any men with missile launchers – proton torpedoes or concussion is not important – stationed behind the walkers, but leave gaps in the walker line so there won’t be any collateral damage. Have them concentrate fire on any walkers stronger than our own. Once the majority of the walkers are out of the way, keep our walkers focussed on their remaining walkers, but get the men with missiles, and our foot soldiers, to focus on their own militia line. You and the other Jedi will need to focus on any Sith they have commanding, whilst your men take out those of them who are clearly nothing more than foot soldiers,” Xander said, whilst reading a series of figures on his datapad. “Our scouts report that they have a sizeable amount of walkers, and even speeder squads, so it becomes even more paramount to send out our walkers first. Understood?”

“Perfectly Master, Mhoon out.”

Theed Plains – Naboo

Morgz sat in his AT-ST, almost bursting out of his seat in anticipation. It struck him as odd that humans and other creatures could sit still for so long in such a small seat. He felt the need to squirm and change position almost every second minute. His copilot, Jedi Knight Danté, who seemed increasingly uncomfortable at fighting such an important battle on his home planet.

Danté glanced over at Morgz and smirked, “Keep still, or I’ll think your a pest and whip out the repellent. Besides, as Cain said, the walkers are only needed for the start of the battle. I’m sure after that you’ll be allowed out to fight their foot soldiers.”

Morgz glared at Danté and adopted a look of pity, “And if you keep cracking jokes, I’ll think you’re dinner and take a bite out of your leg.”

Danté winced, imagining the hundreds of razor sharp teeth in Morgz’s mouth clamping onto his leg, “Ouch. I could have done without that one. Anyway, enough of this. Sensors indicate Miedo’s invasion craft will have finished landing, so their army should be here any minute.”

“They’d better not be much longer,” Morgz muttered, “I’m getting hungry.”

Theed Marshlands – Naboo

Darth Mauv stood strong, watching as the hundreds of landing craft around him began unloading their walkers, or speeders, or platoons of men. Gradually they were lining up, and Mauv surveyed them, trying to discern how much they had lost from the AA turrets. He smiled, they had been quite fortunate. Six of the seven AT-AT squadrons had lined up, with only one missing. They had been a little less fortunate with the AT-STs, with only thirteen of the twenty accounted for. The speeder squadrons, as well, had suffered heavily, with only twenty-eight of the original fifty fit for battle. But their foot soldiers were relatively all accounted for, and prepared for the battle. None of the Sith who had accompanied him had died, and were now lining up in front of their respective platoons.

Marching to the front of the line, and hoisting himself up into an AT-ST wit the aid of the Force, Mauv magnified his voice through the Force, “We have a planet to conquer! Onwards, to victory! Onwards, to the elimination of the Jedi!”

A roar let loose from the soldiers and speeder bike squadrons, and the air was suddenly filled with an enormous roar as AT-ATs, AT-STs, and speeders gunned their engines, and the large procession began the march forwards, towards the field of battle. Mauv’s scouts had informed him that a sizeable army was awaiting them in the plains, not far from the capital city Theed. So that would be where they fought, where the Jedi finally realised that this war would end quite catastrophically for them.

Mauv grinned. After victory here, he was determined that Miedo would see fit to promote him, so he would no longer have to mix with the common soldiers. He longed for a permanent position at a command centre somewhere, coordinating battles, rather than trudging through the metaphorical mud to combat the enemy himself. Mauv was no coward, he did not fear death, but with the number of battles he had fought in, statistics were sure to catch up with him at some point, and spell his doom.

For now though, such thoughts could betray him. He needed all energy focussed on the task at hand, a relatively easy one at that: destroy the Jedi forces, capture Theed, and call in reinforcements to combat any possible resurgence from the Jedi from their nearby fortress on Malastare – the next stop on Mauv’s hit list.

Theed Plains – Naboo

A large roar let out through the air, and Morgz snapped to attention. The Sith were basically advertising their presence with the amount of walkers they had brought for the attack. Morgz shrugged, Whatever works for them, I guess, he thought, and flicked a switch to broadcast to all Jedi Walkers.

“Men, the Sith are almost upon us. What’s say we give them a bit of a welcome?”

Suddenly, almost without warning, several AT-STs shifted their turrets slightly, and let loose with a volley, aimed at the distant trees through which the Sith forces were no doubt progressing. As the volley struck, scores of trees burst into flames, sending them shuddering to the ground. Loud crashes could be heard, which Morgz could only assume were Sith speeders or walkers being struck by the falling trees. As the fire spread, and the Sith grew closer, Morgz could almost pick up over his speakers faint screams as Sith soldiers fell to the flames.

Finally, though, the Sith were out in the open, only a few gaps in their formation from the little stunt Morgz had just pulled. Out front was a huge amount of AT-ATs, and AT-STs. Nearly forty AT-ATs at Morgz’s estimate, and many, many more AT-STs.

He turned to Danté, who also looked a bit overwhelmed by the show of force on Miedo’s part. “We may be in trouble,” Morgz said simply, “I guess I won’t get to go out slicing off Sith heads after all. I’ll have to actually try after all,” he sighed, “Alright. On my mark, rocket carriers take aim, then on my second mark fire. On my second mark, walkers take aim, on my third mark fire. On my third mark rocket carriers reload, and on my fourth fire, and so on,” Morgz said, waving his hand in the air dramatically.

“Alright, mark,” he said, and turned to Danté, and lowered his voice so that the comm unit couldn’t pick it up, “This could get rather boring,” he said, “I think I’ll take a chunk out of Xander’s leg instead, when we get back from this.”

Danté just grinned, and Morgz said his second mark over the comm, as the walkers drew closer. Suddenly bursts of brilliant fire sprung out from around them, and within an instant, several speeders spun off, crashing into the ground, AT-STs exploded brilliantly, and even a few AT-ATs crumbled to the ground, their legs disintegrating under them.

“Prepare for return fire,” Morgz said, “Oh, and mark.” He said, almost as an afterthought, and nodded to Danté, who had lined up their sites on an AT-AT that was preparing to fire on a group of soldiers brandishing rocket launchers, desperately trying to reload them.

Their AT-AT shuddered as it let of rapid bursts of fire, and was joined by other walkers around them, as more and more speeders, AT-STs, and AT-ATs fell from their fire. Finally, though, the enemy walkers began to return fire, and around them AT-STs and AT-ATs of their own began to fall from the fire.

* * *

Cain lay patiently as the cumbersome walkers exchanged volleys of fire. All of the forces had been ordered back, and were currently standing at attention behind the cover of the hill that Cain was resting on now. It gave him perfect view of the battle, without any risk to his men.

He knew Xander had ordered the walkers to eliminate the enemy craft before he was to get involved, but Xander hadn’t know the size of the enemy forces. Right now, if Cain didn’t bring the foot soldiers into the battle, then the foot soldiers that the Sith were bringing into the battle would reach the Jedi walkers and be able to take them out by other means.

Cain stood on the tip of a knife’s blade. He could disobey orders, and save countless Jedi lives, and maybe even win the battle. But then he would be going against the orders of not just a superior, but also those of a friend, and his old Master. He bit his tongue in concentration, thinking. Finally, knowing that whatever personal reasons he had, he couldn’t let them decide the fate of other Jedi, other living beings.

“General,” he said, turning to his non-Force Sensitive counterpart, who was also crouching on the hill, “Alert the men, we’ll enter the battle as soon as their foot soldiers draw within range.”

“But Master Vos said-”

“I don’t give a kriff what Master Vos said, he isn’t here right now, he doesn’t know what we’re up against. It’d be like a Mustafarian inhabitant commenting on the temperatures on Hoth. He doesn’t know what its like here. He gave us orders, that could very well put lives in danger. We will go against them, and I shall take full blame once this is over. If we don’t, there won’t be a chance to talk to Xander about his choice of orders, we’ll all be dead. You understand.”

The General stood, eye to eye with Cain, and finally backed down, relenting, “Yes sir, I’ll notify the appropriate individuals.”

“Very good General,” Cain said, grabbing his lightsaber from his belt, preparing for their moment to enter the field of battle. I’m sorry Xander, but I know this is the right thing to do for the Force.

Jedi Knights Zhar Esseri, a fellow Zeltron, and Tyra Secura, a Twi’lek from Ryloth, crept up the hill to lie next to him. Cain nodded at them each in turn, and they ignited their lightsabers. Behind them came the sound of rank upon rank of men preparing for the gut-busting sprint that would take them over the hill and into the frontline.

Peering over the hill, Cain turned back, and called out, “Now!” Leaping over the hill, an emerald blade and a violet blade at the edge of his vision showed him that Zhar and Tyra had done the same.

Blaster shots spun towards them from shocked Sith foot soldiers, and Cain blocked them back, melting through their armour, killing them instantly from the added force his lightsaber added to the blaster. Landing, return fire filled the air above Cain’s head, as the Republic soldiers reached the top of the hill and spilled over. The soldiers split into thirds behind each of Cain, Zhar and Tyra, chewing holes through the Sith line that had almost reached the walkers.

Reaching out through the Force, Cain almost faltered as he sensed how many Sith presences there were, far more than the three Jedi. Still, many of them seemed to be weak, with only one powerful Sith diverted to each flank of the Republic forces to deal with the three Jedi. The most powerful by far, seemed to be in Zhar’s flank, battling his way steadily forwards to the Jedi Knight.

Cain returned attention to his own forces, and flipped, to avoid a blast, before swiftly decapitating the offending soldier. Landing, he kicked a female officer in the chest, sending her wincing to the ground. He spun, impaling another soldier through the chest, before leaping into the air, stabbing down, impaling the woman as she struggled to rise.

Turning, Cain watched as a powerful Sith – a Zabrak woman wielding two sulphur blades – launched herself towards him, slicing through several of her own troops in her desperation to reach him. Crouching, Cain spun, holding his lightsabers out, clearing the area immediately of enemy soldiers – sending them into enemy or friendly fire – killing them instantly.

The woman reached him, a barely veiled expression of contempt filled her face. Leaping suddenly towards him, she slashed out at his head. Cain crouched, spinning in a circle again, but instead holding his blade vertically, catching her back leg as she leapt over him, burning through a part of her sole, and causing her to yelp, and limp as she landed.

Cain felt a slight respect for her. Most Sith were flamboyant, preferring to give grandiose speeches before battles, spelling out his doom, or telling just how much pain he’d be in, smirking at him. That smirk wouldn’t remain long, Cain wiping it off minutes later. Instead, this woman just got on with the fight at hand, ignoring any sense that she needed to big up her self-importance.

She turned, her limp obviously impeding her, as she leapt at him again, this time choosing to try and throw him off guard, by throwing her lightsaber at him. Cain blocked the main force of the blade, deftly catching it in his other hand, and locking his blades with hers as she reached him.

Pulling away from her, Cain leapt into the air, striking at her as he flipped over her head, forcing her to apply pressure to her injured foot. She grunted slightly, and her guard dropped, for a moment, but a moment was all Cain needed. Lashing out, his lightsaber lopped cleanly through her left shoulder. Landing, he turned to face the fatigued Sith, who was breathing heavily, sweat pouring down her face.

Cain reached out through the Force, and felt only determination. He shook his head slightly, he knew he would never be able to capture her, but knew deep down that he had never had the chance. Reaching out in the Force, he pinned her to the ground, as shots whizzed over his head as the two opposing armies fought on. He approached her slowly, as she struggled. At full strength she most probably would have been able to break free, but with one arm and a hunk of her left foot missing, she was in no state to resist.

“May you find peace with the Force,” Cain said, stabbing down with her own blade, piercing her cleanly through the heart. Suddenly he stumbled back in shock, and spun around, in time to watch a shocked Zhar stumble slightly, gaze down at the gaping hole in his chest, and collapse to the floor, as the Sith – obviously the leader in this fight – stepped back, smirking slightly.

Cain clenched his jaw slightly, tension building up. Slowly he relaxed, breathing deeply, trying to calm himself, even as his arms unconsciously brought his lightsaber around again and again to block shots back. Cain moved steadily forwards, towards the monster who had taken Zhar’s life. On the far side, he could see as Tyra did the same.

All around them, the Sith foot soldiers were falling back, overwhelmed by the numerically superior Republic forces. Several Sith lay dead – Tyra had taken care of the main Sith in her wing, and several of the minor Sith had been overwhelmed by foot soldiers.

Cain could feel through the Force that the walkers were struggling, and that several of the Jedi stationed in them had been killed. Morgz, a Baxthrax Jedi, and Danté, seemed to be fine for the moment, but they seemed to be tense, as if the struggle was against them. However, the majority of the Republic foot soldiers were turning to the speeder bikes, that were harassing the AT-ATs, and even as Cain watched, speeders began to spiral to the ground, losing altitude before disappearing in plumes of fire and smoke.

Moving swiftly towards the Sith monster, he paused, taking a deep breath, and leapt at him, striking hard and fast, hoping to catch him unawares. The man spun, locking his blade with Cain’s, cackling slightly crazily as he spun, locking blades with Tyra, who leapt at him as well. Cain jumped forwards, but was forced to spin aside as the man leapt over his head, leaving Cain with only Tyra in his path.

“No pitiful move could defeat Lord Mauv,” the man said, raising his left hand, letting lose a powerful barrage of Force Lightening. The speed of the lightening showed that the man truly was a skilled Sith, though his slip of the tongue showed he was either careless, or an idiot.

Cain gasped as the lightening came, barely bringing his blade up in time, to absorb the majority of the lightening headed for him, the power forcing him back a step. Tyra wasn’t fast enough, and the lightning struck all over her body, sending up plumes of smoke, striking her lekku, sending her to the ground, convulsing in pain.

Cain clenched his teeth and leapt at Mauv, locking blades again, striking hard and fast, first high, then low, in an attempt to get the man off-guard. He was easily the hardest Sith Cain had ever fought, and an intense duel only minutes ago didn’t help his chances of defeating the Sith Lord.

Mauv locked blades with Cain, before spinning and kicked him in the chest, sending Cain stumbling back. Mauv somersaulted over Cain’s head, only half-heartedly striking at him, before landing, and before Cain knew what had happened, the Sith had his lightsaber to Tyra’s chest, her clothes peeling back with the heat, and soon her groaning increased in volume as layers of skin began to peel back.

“If you touch her, I will personally rip your head from your body and send it into the sun of this system,” Cain growled, edging forwards.

“Not very Jedi of you, is that?” Mauv taunted, and as Cain leapt at him, he sleaved quickly through Tyra’s head, before leaping away, keeping a sizeable distance between him and Cain.

“What, are you afraid of me?” Cain said, a crazy glint in his eye. Tyra had been a close friend – not more than a friend – and her death had pushed Cain too far. He wasn’t a fool, he knew he couldn’t win this battle, which is why he didn’t care if he descended to the Dark Side. If he could injure this Sith, or more, then that was the best possible outcome.

Cain struck and spun, slicing and hacking at Mauv’s defence, but the man delicately parried each and every strike, adding some of his own, which occasionally worked their way through Cain’s defences, to add a welt to his cheek, or a cut to his leg. Despite the pain, Cain fought on, hoping to eventually wear down the Sith Lord’s defences.

Mauv spun, flipping over Cain as Cain lunged into an attack, and kicking him in the back, sending him tumbling to the floor. Mauv threw his lightsaber at Cain, and Cain barely rolled out of the way in time, the blade slicing through the thing cartilage of his ear, sending a roar of pain from Cain’s lips.

Cain jumped to his feet, as Mauv called his lightsaber back to his hand, and leapt at the man, slashing and kicking, feinting and punching, even more ferociously than before, and finally Mauv’s defence seemed to falter, if only for an instant. Mauv stepped back, luring Cain forwards, and Cain lunged. Mauv sideslipped, and slashed into Cain’s back, sending the Zeltron slumping to the ground, not breathing.

Mauv turned away, and when he realised that his forces were in almost full retreat, began to flee, until he heard a slight gurgling, and a murmur, as if they were words. He turned back, to see Cain mumbling words into a comlink he had produced, presumably from his belt. Mauv smirked, and stepped over, grinding the comlink into the ground with his heel.

Cain looked up at him despairingly, and reached out his hand, as if to attack Mauv once more with all his remaining energy. Sparks flickered from Cain’s fingertips, but then the stress was too much, and they converged on his fingers, working their way back up his arm, and reached his head, boiling his eyeballs and wrinkling his skin, as Cain Mhoon slumped to the ground, joining the Force.

Xander Vos

Chapter Seven

**65 ABY (26 Years into the Dude Conflict)**

Naboo Plains – Naboo

The Sith were in full retreat, and Danté grinned with satisfaction as Morgz targeted one of the few Sith walkers remaining, blowing it apart with ease. The grin was wiped from his face as a presence snuffed out through the Force. He turned to Morgz, his expression grim.

“That was Tyra, with Zhar dead as well, that leaves only Cain, I hope he makes it through this, or Xander will collapse. The things he’s been through...”

Morgz nodded, his face unable to show emotion – well, any that Danté would be able to understand – but his voice, and presence through the Force, radiated sorrow, “I think its the Sith Lord, the leader of this operation. Who else could have taken first Zhar, and then Tyra’s life with such ease? I pray to the Force that Cain is able to stop him.”

A light on their console began to flash, and Morgz answered it immediately, “What’s happening Cain? Did you kill him? What’s your situation? Answer me!”

“M... Mauv,” Cain said, his voice weak, a light gurgle coming from his throat indicated just how bad shape he was in.

“What? Mauv? What’s a Mauv? Or is it who? Is this the Sith Lord?” Danté said, leaning in.

“Sith... Sith Lord. He killed Zhar, Tyra, a... and, he’s killed me t-too,” Cain said, “Tell Xander I’m so-” the comlink broke off, with an almost crunching sound.

Morgz glanced at Danté, “Mauv must have caught up with him. At least we know his name. We can tell Xander to add another threat to the list. This war has gone on too long,” he said, sounding immediately old, weary, “When will it end? When will I be able to look around at a room of friends, and know that every one of them will be alive the following day? When Danté?”

Danté looked sad, resigned almost, “I don’t know,” he said softly, “But I pray that it is soon.”

Theed – Naboo

Cain’s death struck Xander like a slap across the face. He looked up from his tactical display and glanced around the room. Many of the Jedi situated here – mostly healers and Jedi Snipers, who had done their bit for the battle as best they could – had reacted as well, but mainly only those who had known Cain personally. Zhar and Tyra’s deaths had struck Xander hard too – he had trained them when they had only been eleven years old – but Cain, who he had gone on several missions with during this war, who he had trained for over a decade, Cain, who he had been furious at for disobeying his orders, was gone.

Flicking his switch, he opened a comm channel with the lead walker, Morgz and Danté’s, “Situation update. What’s going on? I just felt Cain pass to the Force. Have we won the battle or not? You told me only minutes ago that everything had been a success, that we had won. I’ve received word from Lyn, they’ve returned to the system, and the Super Star Destroyer is absorbing damage, as if its waiting for someone.”

“We think we know who that is,” Morgz said. “His name is Mauv. He single-handedly killed Zhar, Tyra and Cain, whilst blaster fire and other distractions raged around them. All the Sith besides him are dead, however. Your Snipers did well to take control of their minds and make them attack each other. Cain killed a female Sith who seemed to be relatively powerful, as did Tyra to a Camass.”

Xander sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly, “Very well. Return to Theed. This was a success. I’ll contact the Council soon and alert them as to the casualties we’ve sustained, and what they want of me next. I suppose I’ll have to warn them not to partner me up with any Jedi I’ve had close contact with, or I’ll have a complete breakdown.”

“Xander,” Danté began.

“What?” Xander said, harshly, too harshly. He paused, “What?” he said, again, softer.

“Xander, I’m sorry. I knew Cain. He was a brilliant person. Never afraid to do what was needed of him. I’ve been told by one of our Generals that he ordered the foot soldiers to attack, because he knew your orders were faulty, and would get good men killed. He was willing to take full responsibility. I know that that may make you feel worse, but it shouldn’t. You trained him, you made him the man he became. I just want you to know, Xander, I’m proud of you. We’re proud of you. In fact, the whole damn Order is proud of you. You’ve done so much, and taken so little. You’ve suffered and suffered, but never complained – well, at least, not loudly – and for that, we’re proud of you Xander.”

Xander, too moved to respond, just grunted, and ended the communication. As he settled back into his chair, as commotion began behind him as various individuals heard the news that they had won and began to cheer, he felt warmth around his eyes. Raising his hand to rub them, he brought it away to find it wet with tears, his tears. He smiled, and let a small sob escape his chest.

Outer Atmosphere – Naboo

Lyn stared at the remains of the battle that had finished little under an hour ago. The Sith Super Star Destroyer – the Titan – had jumped away from the planet after a shuttle had – despite their best efforts – docked with it. Dead hulks drifted through space, serving as mobile graveyards for the crew and pilots that had been stationed within.

Once Lyn and the Republic forces had reached Malastare, Lyn had immediately contacted the forces stationed there, and in little under an hour, they had been ready to jump back to Naboo to eradicate the Sith naval forces from the system.

Deciding to instead supervise the battle from the deck of the Guardian instead of in the thick of it – the death of Shyraka Layne still fresh in his mind – he had been met on the bridge by the Jedi Commander for the mission, Felian Darkheart.

“It’s odd,” Felian murmured, as the pair watched the tranquil flashes of light flash from the craft around them, to splash against the shields of the Super Star Destroyer.

“What, that it’s remained here despite it being obviously outnumbered? That it’s perhaps waiting for a shuttle, or craft to fly from the surface to dock with it?” Lyn said.

“I was going to say that you’re here, not in a fighter craft, but that too,” Felian said, grinning, and turned to Lyn.

Lyn’s leg gave an involuntary twitch, and he glanced down at it. He longed to be out there, in the thick of it, blasting a hole in the Super Star Destroyer’s screen of fighters, allowing bombers through for a run. He found it odd, only a few decades before, he had been able to pilot a shuttle, perhaps, but nothing as complex as a star fighter. Now his life didn’t feel proper unless he was within the cockpit of his X-Wing, twisting and turning between enemies, jolts of adrenaline running through his stomach as he came closer and closer still each time to death.

“Sir,” an officer called up to them, jolting Lyn out of his memory, “Sensors indicate a shuttle leaving the atmosphere of Naboo, on a flight trajectory assumed to take it to the Super Star Destroyer, classified as the Titan. Permission to begin firing solutions.”

“Permission granted,” Felian said, and turned to Lyn, smiling, “You were right,” he said.

“I often am,” Lyn said, and turned to look out at the battle, and Felian stared out, trying to make out the small speck that was the shuttle. Soon, the deck beneath them rumbled as the Guardian attempted to open fire on the shuttle, though it was in vain. A starfighter squadron was diverted to attack the shuttle, but within minutes it was safe aboard the Titan, and minutes after that, the battle was over, as the remains of the Sith fighter screen was swept away.

“Now the poor Sith Commander has to go back to big daddy Miedo and tell him how sorry he is for messing up their invasion, and how he hopes he’ll be forgiven,” Felian said, mimicking a young kids voice.

Lyn couldn’t help uttering a snort, “Yes, that’s exactly how all the most evil Sith Lords behave around their Emperor, just like that’s how you behave around the Council.”

Felian glanced around the bridge, as if checking to make sure no one had heard Lyn, “You promised never to mention that to anyone else,” he said, his voice full of jest.

Lyn grinned, “But then I thought how fun it’d be, and I couldn’t resist.”

Felian nodded, resigned, “Fine then. But on serious matters, we’ll need to make contact with Xander soon, the battle on the surface should be wrapping up.”

Lyn could feel something through the Force, a murmur of something wrong, “I hope he’s alright,” Lyn murmured.

“Of course he will be,” Felian said, full of confidence.

Lyn arched an eyebrow, “Oh? And why is that?”

“Because he’s Xander,” Felian said.

Xander Vos

Chapter Eight

**70 ABY (31 Years into the Byss Empire Conflict)**

Sith Academy – Ossus

Lord Lanik – formerly the Grand Admiral of the Sith forces, though he hadn’t gone by that title in fifty years – stood in the office, reviewing the sensor readings, indicating the size of the fleet bearing down on them.

Since the battle at Bespin, where his reputation had been left in shatters, Lanik had resigned from the Sith, spending time as a freelance mercenary, his Force skills coming in handy. However, ten years into the war with Darth Miedo, Darth Minious had approached him at a safe house he had constructed on Mustafar. Lanik had agreed to return to the Sith, and fought with Minious at Xagobah, driving out Miedo’s forces from the planet, erecting it as a temporary throne world after Kroprulu had fallen.

Since then, Lanik had been bombarded with offers of higher and higher positions in the Sith Navy, but he had declined them all. Instead, he had chosen a post at the Sith Academy on Ossus, where he had intended to train the younger Sith in the ways of the Force. He hoped that the next generation would be better equipped to deal with the war with Miedo’s Empire, as it seemed no closer to its end. Until now. Reports had come through only months before of Miedo’s death, and nearly every logical response had been disbelief. That their enemy could die so simply and suddenly from brain tumours seemed unjust, with the amount of suffering he had caused. Ieha Weyx – one of Darth Miedo’s Ministers - however, seemed to have confirmed that. Miedo would never have given command of his Empire so freely to another, meaning he was either being detained through a military coup, or he was, in fact, dead.

The fact that almost all remaining forces belonging to the Byss Empire – as it was now being called, leaving it with a dead man’s title seemed somehow wrong – was now bearing down on Ossus told Lanik then and there the difference in strategies that Weyx and Miedo had deployed.

Two Super Star Destroyers, the Titan, and the Dark Moon were bearing down on the Academy, accompanied by ten Imperial Star Destroyers. Intelligence had concluded that Miedo had only two Super Star Destroyers remaining in his retinue, the other three – Shadow, Bhao, and Malreaux – had all been destroyed through the course of the war.

Lanik shook his head in despair. The Academy had hardly enough forces to combat such a large show of force by Weyx. He was puzzled as to why Weyx had sent such an enormous force, when two or three Imperial Star Destroyers would have achieved the same outcome. He had concluded that it was a show of force, to make a statement that he could invade a planet so close to Kroprulu at will. Intelligence had suggested that he may have been planning an attack at Reldar Prime, the location of several Academies, a Sith, Jedi and Grey Jedi each. Obviously that had been faulty.

“Commander, send out all available craft to intercept Byss’ force, but allow anyone who wishes to evacuate to do so. Confirmation that all the children have been evacuated?” Lanik said, turning to a man by his side.

The man nodded, “Confirmed sir. The last of the children were evacuated from the far side of the planet seven minutes ago. Those older than fifteen have been allowed to remain to fight if they so wish. Our total ground forces now equal three Sith Lords, including yourself, twelve Sith Masters, and twenty-one Sith Apprentices. Our naval forces consist of one Imperial-Class Star Destroyer, and one Empire-Class Star Destroyer, as well as two Corellian Corvettes, and one Nebula-B Frigate. All fighters accounted for have been released to form fighter screens around the craft, and they are moving in to attack the Star Destroyer sensors indicate is labelled as Carrion. The Bespin Sunset, our Empire-Class Star Destroyer, is en route for the Titan, in a hope to draw its fire.”

Lanik nodded, “Very well. I want a ratio of one Sith Lord for every seven Apprentices, and four Sith Masters for every Sith Lord. I shall lead group A, Lord Mortum shall lead Group B, and Lord Paxis shall lead Group C. The Academy has thirty levels, that means ten levels for each Sith Lord. Lord Paxis shall remain on Ground Floor, as well as a platoon of Storm Troopers. After that, I want a Sith Master on every second floor, so on floors Two, Four, Six and Eight. Each shall have a section of Storm Troopers on the odd floors, One, Three, Five, Seven and Nine. Repeat for the other two teams, with Mortum’s starting Floor Ten, and I shall be on Floor Twenty.”

The Commander nodded, “Very well my Lord, I shall alert all relevant men.”

“Good Commander,” Lanik said, “I want you, and all remaining personnel – troops excluded, they are to go to level Thirty – to find evacuation transport and leave.” The Commander tried to speak, but Lanik spoke over him, “I need the Empress to know what happened here, and the danger she faces on Kroprulu. She needs to recall the remaining fleets – or what’s left of them – to Kroprulu to further protect her. Those acts of terrorism are dangerous, and could potentially leave Kroprulu unguarded.”

The Commander sighed, “Very well my Lord, your wish is my command.” He turned, and started issuing commands to men around him, who hurried to prepare for the coming battle.

Outer Atmosphere – Ossus

Grand Admiral Acrimonus stood with his hands clasped behind his back, watching from the bridge of the Bespin Sunset as they approached the Super Star Destroyer Titan. The Super Star Destroyer seemed to be carrying many scars, and looked as if it had seen many better days.

Acrimonus had been surveying the Academy on the orders of Empress Saber, to make sure that everything was going as according to plan. He had had a private reason as well however: he had wanted to see Lanik. His predecessor to the title of Grand Admiral was an enigma to him. He had met him only occasionally, and had heard of the numerous things he had done. After leaving the Sith he had become a mercenary, and had gone on several breath-taking missions. Acrimonus chose to ignore the fact that Lanik had resigned following the embarrassment that every Sith knew all too well, the Invasion of Bespin. What was meant to be a simple invasion, of the planet on which Acrimonus had been born, to tax the Galactic Empire to the point of collapse, had resulted in the loss of a High General, and Grand Admiral on the same day.

Acrimonus knew the truth though, how two Star Destroyers had broken off the retreat Lanik had ordered, and had attacked the Jedi forces that had appeared from nowhere. He knew it had not been Lanik’s fault that they had been destroyed, and that Lanik was foolish for believing himself responsible for the disastrous outcome. Still, Acrimonus hadn’t even been ten at the time of the mission, let alone a Sith – he had been on Bakura, being trained as a Jedi - so he had no first-hand knowledge of the mission, which is why he had agreed so readily to visiting Ossus.

And then, out of nowhere, a large invasion force had appeared in-system, broadcasting warnings and demanding a Sith surrender. Their slow approach though was obviously meant to allow anyone to escape who wished to, so Acrimonus had had ample time to reach his shuttle and reach his flagship in time.

Oddly, Acrimonus had never imagined his life ending this way, coming up against a force that even the Supreme Commander would admit was too great to combat. Acrimonus knew what Weyx wanted, he wanted the Sith to escape, to retreat to Kroprulu, and grant Weyx this world, a brilliant vantage point to attack Kroprulu – or in fact Reldar as analysists claimed he would soon do – and crush the Empire.

But no, Acrimonus would fight to the death, he would never leave the world so undefended against the forces of Ieha Weyx. He had ordered the majority of his forces to attack an Imperial Star Destroyer, and his own Star Destroyer had been diverted to attack the Titan. His craft was severely outclassed against something as brutally strong as a Super Star Destroyer, but if the Force was with him, and his fighter pilots were able to score lucky shots, he may be able to eliminate it. If that were the case, he would have no hesitation in jumping for Kroprulu, and alerting the Sith forces stationed there to return to Ossus and liberate it.

“Sir, firing solutions are complete, permission to open fire on the Titan?” An officer asked.

Acrimonus nodded, “Open fire.”

The deck beneath him shuddered, as its turbo lasers opened fire on the Super Star Destroyer, the sheer amount of canons forming an almost continuous line of fire to the craft, burrowing into one section of the shielding. Within seconds the Titan began returning fire, and sections of Acrimonus’ display lit up with warning lights, signalling shielding under duress.

Acrimonus’ starfighter screen began spreading out away from the Bespin Sunset, as Acrimonus had ordered, and began harassing the Titan’s own screen. His sensors showed that his Imperial Star Destroyer, Corellian Corvettes, and Nebula-B frigate were all pouring damage into the Carrion.

“Sir, Wing Commander Thac reports that he and his squadron have broken through, and are barraging the Titan’s shields with proton torpedos. He suggests we concentrate fire in Sector E-7 for maximum effect,” the same officer as before reported.

Ever since the Sith and the Jedi had begun working in allegiance, the Sith had begun replacing several of its TIE Squadrons with X-Wings and B-Wings, as the shielding and extra manoeuvrability were quite necessary. Adding to that fact was that Weyx was using TIE Fighters in his own squadrons, and the Empire sought to eliminate any parallels that could be drawn between the two opposing forces.

Acrimonus nodded, surveying his damage reports for his flagship so far, “Very well. Tell him we acknowledge, and that he and his squadron should break off once his proton torpedoes are spent, and to instead attack the fighter screen to help other squadrons break through, and request that the Krakana divert its fire to Sector E-7 as well.”

To his starboard, the Krakana stopped firing on the Carrion and instead focussed its fire on a bright point that had begun to appear on the Titan, where Acrimonus assumed the proton torpedoes had begun to impact. The turbo lasers on the Bespin Sunset also changed course, focussing on the same spot, and gradually, Acrimonus could see a blossom of fire begin to appear on the Titan’s deck.

Damage reports began to catch his attention however, as more and more decks turned red, indicating breaches in the hull, and nearly all indicators said that shields were down over their respective parts of the hull. The Titan seemed to be picking up damage faster though, as more and more fireballs appeared on its hull, and slowly but surely, it began to crack apart at that point, as laser fire chewed further and further into that point.

“Officer, as soon as the Titan registers enough damage to be beyond any possible repair, I want you to jump for Kroprulu,” Acrimonus said, glancing down at the navigation officer.

“Yes sir, plotting course now,” the officer said, turning away, tapping furiously at a datapad.

Sith Academy – Ossus

As Lanik went about distributing his men, a bright light, almost as bright as the sun, flared up in the day sky. Lanik glanced out at it, and stretched out with the Force, probing the rapidly expanding gas cloud, searching for allied presences. All he sensed was malice and despair as the craft blew apart completely.

“It seems Acrimonus has eliminated a portion of the threat to us,” he said simply, as the men around him resumed their tasks, “But I assume he’ll now be retreating to Kroprulu to warn the Empress. We have no one to rely on but ourselves now.”

The Commander nodded, “Very well sir, we’ll do our best to eliminate the forces before they reach you.”

* * *

Only three hours later, Lanik was pressed to a wall, surrounded by enemy troops. His support lay dead, the other Sith Lords slain levels below. Above, was only a small contingent of soldiers, who couldn’t possibly hold out against the overwhelming force that he fought.

Weyx’s arrogance had seen him send not a single Force Sensitive, his entire force made up of foot soldiers, highly trained, and deadly accurate. His ruby blade flashed and spun as he deflected blaster bolts, a light sheen of sweat appearing on his forehead. Backing into the wall, he kicked off, launching at the troops arrayed in front of him, seeing their eyes widened in realisation, seconds before their heads flung from their shoulders, landing metres away.

Lanik turned, drawing soldiers towards him, impaling them on his blade. But more and more came, an overwhelmingly large force. He spun, weaving between them, and then stopped, paused halfway up a staircase to the higher level – where only a small section of troops remained – and sent arcs of Force Lightening down at the soldiers, who screamed, before being pushed out of the way by fresh soldiers. Lanik shook his head, they wouldn’t stop, and they didn’t have any Sith with them.

His eyes widened in realisation. Weyx had intentionally sent a large force here not to display his strength, but to hide it. Whilst the Galaxy would view this attack as a set-up for an attack on Kroprulu – helped indeed by Acrimonus’ warning – they wouldn’t know that Byss’ true forces – his Sith – would be arraying themselves for an attack on Reldar Prime.

Flipping back into the crowd of soldiers, Lanik felt a sting, as a bullet pierced his leg, and he grunted, landing and sending Force energy to the leg in question so that he felt no pain from the injury. He fought on, knowing that he could never give in. All it took was one stray shot, however. Lanik brought his saber up, deflecting a high shot aimed at his head, and a soldier took the chance, sending three rapid shots into his gut, propelling him backwards. The soldiers behind him converged on him with vibroblades, hacking at him to make sure he would remain dead, much as they had done with the other two Sith Lords.

I hope the Galaxy can survive this war, by the Force, Weyx is going to tear us apart. Hope for the Galaxy lies in the hands of a select few. Those stationed on Reldar: High General Vexen, Scion, Uncle Vikro, and Lyn Korak. Xander Vos.

Xander Vos

Chapter Nine

**71 ABY (32 Years into the Byss Empire Conflict)**

Jedi Praxeum – Reldar Prime

Lyn Korak stood firm, his shoulders fixed squarely as he gazed forwards from the place where he and the columns of Jedi Knights with him had stopped and prepared for the coming invaders from the woodlands of Reldar Prime.

There was a blast through the front of the Temple, and he felt two Force presences blink out. A twisted shower of durasteel and glass spewed forth from the charging horde now incoming to their location. Lyn looked to his Jedi soldiers and offered a small smile. “A Jedi’s life is sacrifice. Just make sure it doesn’t end that way.” Another time and another place, there may have been good humor to the sentiment.

Their lightsabers ignited, the column of Jedi Knights prepared for the coming assault, as the horde of men charged towards them. Closing his eyes slightly, Lyn paused, and then lashed out, first left, and then right, flipping, and stabbing out, killing three of the men instantly. He felt a cold pain on his leg as one slashed him with his vibrosword, but Lyn lashed out, kicking him hard in the jaw and feeling it give under his pressure, shattering into a multitude of smaller pieces.

Whirling, he ended the man’s pain with a swift stroke. Around him, the other Jedi were faring just as well, though he did notice a few lightsabers missing from fallen comrades. Where the frak is Xander, Lyn thought as he brought his blade up, blocking off another strike from a soldier, spearing him through the gut in a second strike.

The Jau’do Cantina – Reldar Prime

Nursing his second ale, Xander unclipped his lightsaber from his belt and ignored the faint plea in the Force - Lyn was summoning him. Choosing to proceed with his spectacle, he intended to flush Minious out of hiding… If he were even near Reldar Prime. Few Sith were. He doubted whether or not more would be coming. He knew the Jedi would… They had to come. “I am looking for a Sith Lord,” he announced loudly with a deliberate but faint slur to his words. He continued, “He looks the age of the ale, taste equally unpleasant, have eyes the colour of the night sky and sallow skin Palpatine would have been proud of. Has anyone seen such a Sith?”

While he expected little to no verbal confirmation or even acknowledgment, Xander anticipated some flicker of name recognition in the Force. Yet there was none. It was as if Minious, the former Supreme Commander of the Eternal Empire had just vanished from people’s memory. Fierfek. When he turned back to his barstool, a third ale bubbled over the brim of the cup and he drained it in a single swig. “Service is its own reward,” he mused on the way out of the cantina and into the dark light of day.

He turned, watching the dark fire rain down from the sky, scoring huge chunks of earth from the ground, some absorbed by deflector shields many buildings had activated. He watched as the anti-orbital canons returned fire, squinting in a hope to see the naval powers of the Byss Empire, but failing to, as expected, in the light of day.

So this was it. Byss had launched its final strike, it had all been building to this. The Jedi Council should have seen this coming, the Sith Council as well, come to think of it. The one planet in the Galaxy where Jedi, Grey and Sith training facilities existed side by side. The Council had been talking for weeks about the invasion of Ossus, and the potential follow-up invasion of Kroprulu, but of course, they hadn’t been heading for Kroprulu – no, that wouldn’t cripple the Jedi, just the Sith – they’d been heading here, to Reldar.

No doubt by now Abba was rousing the Council with an inspirational speech, and Xander hoped with all his strength that the Council saw reason and came. He knew that the twelve most powerful individuals of the Jedi Order shouldn’t gather on the one planet, but these were desperate times. If the Republic and Empire won this battle, it would see the end of war. That in itself should be cause for the Jedi and Sith Councils to arrive with electro-buzzers on.

He sighed, and moved on, to where he’d parked a land-speeder, and hopped in, plotting in the co-ordinates for the next cantina, and letting the auto-pilot pilot the thing – after six cantinas already he was slightly more than tipsy.

Xander slowly drifted off to sleep in the heat of the sun, but was quickly woken as the speeder jerked to a stop near the next cantina, which Xander knew was known as Bessil’s by the locals. Shrugging, he slipped out, and stumbled over to the door, slapping it open and stepping inside.

“A round for the house on me!” He shouted boisterously and was greeted by a roar and slaps on the back. He stumbled over to the bar, and ordered another ale, sipping this a little more tentatively – it seemed each cantina had a progressively worse brew.

“Has anyone seen a Sith Lord? He looks the age of the ale, taste equally unpleasant, have eyes the colour of the night sky and sallow skin Palpatine would have been proud of. Has anyone seen such a Sith?” He said, slurring his words together deliciously.

“Yer, I seen ‘im,” one Devaronian said, lurching to his feet, knocking over two patron’s Kashyyyk brew.

Xander shifted his attention to the patron, coursing the Force through him to wash away the alcohol as much as possible, “When? Where did he go? Does he know about those blooming large ships in orbit taking chunks out of Reldar a few kilograms at a time?”

“Yer, he shed he wash headed for the Shith Temple,” the Devaronian said, and stumbled slightly as he walked forwards, leering into Xander’s face, who leaned back in an attempt to avoid the bad breath.

“Well if you see him tell him he isn’t there,” Xander said, ringing a cohort of chuckles from the drunken alien, “Thanks all the same. Another round on the house!” He said, slipping out through the cacophony of cheers.

Jedi Praxeum – Reldar Prime

Lyn gritted his teeth against the pain. His robes had been cut away in bloody swathes, and he was standing there battling on in his undergarments. From the thirty Jedi Knights who had stood prepared a little over half an hour ago, only a handful remained, separated from each other by a ring of invaders.

As he watched, another succumbed to the pressure of the crowd around him, a Rodian. That’s Doks gone then, Lyn thought grimly, turning his attention back to the six men surrounding him. Pushing off the ground, he leapt into the air, pulling the pin off a frag grenade, he chucked it amongst them, blowing most of them in half, and pushing himself further into the air. He swung his blade, intercepting all but the smallest pieces of debris, which sliced into him even more. Lyn smashed into the high ceiling, wincing slightly, and then kicked off, accelerating his decent, and landed on top of one of the survivors, slicing cleanly through the few who had survived the initial blast but had been stunned.

Turning, he sprinted towards a woman, Tylora Nyn, who was struggling with the men around her. Stabbing one cleanly in the back, Lyn fought his way to her side, pushing the men back, and cleanly killing the lot of them within minutes. The pair turned, working through the new crowd around them, battling with a sudden intensity that fresh hope brought, trying to push through to a third, a Wookiee, Zharlekka, who was roaring and snarling as he slashed high and low, keeping several men pinned to the wall with one hairy arm, whilst taking on four others with his lightsaber one handed.

As they reached him, he spun, throwing the three men he’d held against the wall onto the vibroswords the four were holding, impaling the three instantly. As the four struggled to pull the men off their blades, the Wookiee Force Pushed them back into the swords of another four men who were charging towards him, killing the first four. Lyn and Tylora made quick work of the other four.

Lyn paused, feeling the plethora of injuries he had suffered swath his body in pain. Looking around he suddenly realised they were alone. Three Jedi had survived when thirty had started. He shook his head sadly, despite the feeling this would be the battle that ended the war, it still stung as each Jedi fell to an enemy.

“I am going to frakking kill Vos when I find him,” growled Lyn, slumping to the ground as the pain overtook him, and the sound of faraway battles lulled him to sleep.

Sith Temple – Reldar Prime

Darth Minious stood, prepared for the horde of men rumoured to be on their way. At his back stood a legion of his best men, and above flew the Empire’s best fighter pilots. Besides himself, of course.

It had been hours now, since the Battle of Reldar Prime had begun, and it was no closer to finishing than it had when it started. The Jedi had brought in reinforcements only recently, some – he believed – being the Jedi Council members.

Xander Vos, a Jedi, had only a short time ago, told him of the importance of holding fast. Apparently the Jedi were staging a defence at their Academy, and hoped to draw the Byss there. All Minious needed to do was rebuff those that thought their luck was good enough to invade the Sith haven.

Xander Vos… for some reason his face had given him memories of another time, long ago. The man had been quite hideously drunk upon his arrival at the Temple, but even in his state, a dark look had crossed his face upon seeing Minious, and Minious strained his memory to remember why.

Finally, giving up, he shrugged his shoulders in helplessness: no matter, it was not for him to care why a Jedi hated him; only a few decades before, it would have been a given for a Jedi to hate a Sith: the conflicting morals, the ethical codes the two Orders followed, and many other points of conflict existed between the two, and Minious was not in the mood to pick just one as a reason of this Jedi’s dislike of him.

Jedi Praxeum – Reldar Prime

Sobered and returned to the Praxeum, Xander sat listening as the Council recounted their plan of action for the battle. High above, according to them, their cruisers as well as the Sith’s were slaughtering Byss’. Weyx had been reported aboard one of their capital cruisers, and rumours were flying around that it had been critically damaged.

The main amount of Weyx’s men were now, no doubt, headed for the Jedi Praxeum. The Jedi had for hours been working on exuding a strong presence through the Force to draw them in, in waves. They had repelled several already, of non-Sith forces. They knew a large amount of them remained in Weyx’s arsenal, and awaited tensely their arrival.

Vikro, Jaden Nightsaber, and Dakoth Mandal, had volunteered to fight atop the Praxeum, where it was thought drop ships may attempt to make runs, Xander, Lyn, his Apprentice Mindal Reynolt, and Corrus Taun, a fairly recent addition to the Council in light of Padmé Dral’s death, were to fight in the main hangar of the Praxeum, another hot spot according to analysts.

Other Jedi were to be stationed at other various choke points within the Praxeum.

Thunder and lightning rumbled around them, and Xander glanced amongst his companions, “That’s our calling card,” he said, nodding to his old master, Vikro, as he, Jaden and Dakoth, jogged off to meet up with their main force stationed on the roof.

Jedi Praxeum Outer Grounds – Reldar Prime

Darth Mauv marched onwards, the Praxeum in front of him filling his vision. It represented a Jedi monument on a world to which it did not belong. He hated the Jedi with every fibre in his body, and yet he did not know why. He had fought them during this war, and yet he knew nothing of them.

The Jedi were a curiosity to him, an enigma. They defended the weak above themselves, they weighed themselves down with pointless dogma and weak morals. The fake Sith, he could hate with all within him with no doubt – they imitated the Empire Miedo had created with his bare hands – but the Jedi, they he hated because of what they had done to themselves, not what they tried to do to others.

As he approached the Praxeum, he diverted his men as he had been ordered to do so, and headed for the main hangar bay, knowing it would be the least defended, and so the easiest entry point into this Temple teeming with the Force.

As they approached, he felt a flicker within the Force. Pausing, letting some of his men reach the hangar before him, he realised what it was, “Stop!” He shouted, but it was too late, as an explosion flung his men backwards.

Sprinting forwards, he ignited his lightsaber, as several Jedi within the hangar ignited their’s. he roared a challenge and flung himself amongst vibroblade-wielding soldiers, hacking them apart for allowing him to walk into such a simple trap.

Around him, other Sith lit their lightsabers, instead attacking the Jedi. Scouring the hangar through the Force, he pinpointed one Jedi as the strongest and brightest presence. Hacking his way through, he approached this Jedi, who wielded an emerald blade. The Jedi flung back his blade, pushing away a dead opponent.

He spun to face Mauv, but his grimace, ready for battle, collapsed, and Mauv felt shock flood through the Force. Disbelief followed, followed by pure confusion.

“You, but, how are you still alive?” The man asked.

“By killing your brothers, by burning your cities, by crushing your allies,” Mauv announced viciously, moving in to begin the duel, but the Jedi moved back again, his mouth gaping open.

“But, but I saw you die. Shatterpoint told me, she told me there was nothing to be done, that you were dead,” the Jedi began to babble about a battle, and something about a planet Mauv had visited on occasion.

“What lies is this? If you are seeking to deceive me in the face of battle, you are wrong Jedi!”

The Jedi looked at him with a resigned look of sadness, the initial shock of seeing Mauv having seemingly worn off, “I cannot fight one who was once my brother, Jysek.”

Xander Vos

Chapter Ten

**71 ABY (32 Years into the Byss Empire Conflict)**

Jedi Praxeum – Reldar Prime

Xander probed the man again, and there was no mistaking it. This was Jysek Talore, the boy he had seen die at the age of thirteen on Lorta all those years ago. What stood before him was an impossibility, something his rational mind tried to explain away, but failed to do so.

“Don’t be foolish Jedi, I was never your brother, I am a Sith Lord, servant of Darth Miedo’s Empire, and Emperor Weyx in his place,” the man said, an expression of malice still clear on his face.

“Come with me, to the Jedi, we can save you from what Miedo did to you,” Xander asked, holding out his hand, hoping that this simple gesture would be enough, that Jysek would remember, remember who he was, and what they’d had. Xander quickly withdrew his hand though as Mauv swung his blade through the space where it had been.

“You are nothing to me Jedi, nothing!” He screamed, marching forwards, “If you will not fight, then you shall meet your destiny!”

Xander blocked the first strike with disbelief, but as each successive blow came, he knew he must fight this monster his friend had become, or die by his blade. The latter was not an option, as he sensed the power this monster contained. How had he missed it in Jysek? When his Force Powers had been developing, how had he not felt the beaming presence that was Jysek? How had his parents not?

These thoughts would get him killed, he quickly realised, as Mauv struck again and again, in rapid succession. Surrendering to the surge of battle, Xander spun, flipping through a roundhouse kick too fast for Mauv to bring his lightsaber up, smacking the man in the jaw. As he reeled away, Xander pressed the advantage, causing Mauv to stumble in surprise at the power Xander employed.

Around him, the Battle for Reldar Prime raged, as Jedi threw themselves at their opponents. Mindal struck again and again at his opponent, wearing down the woman’s defences, and finally delivering a killing blow, smashing her lightsaber hilt to the side, then swinging around, severing her head from her shoulders. He turned, watching his Master battle a ferocious animal of a man.

Corrus Taun flipped, struggling against his Wookiee opponent. His opponent bellowed an angry roar as he struggled to lay a blow on his smaller opponent. Corrus struck, and flipped, struck and flipped, until the smell of burnt hair filled the air, the sizzle of singed flesh making Corrus feel physically ill.

Finally, overcome by pain, the Wookiee sagged with weariness, and Corrus, with a quick clean stab to the chest, put the Wookiee out of its misery. As it sagged to the ground, Corrus, breathing heavily, turned to glance at the duel in the centre of the hangar.

Rooftop – Jedi Praxeum

The battle was fairly even, Vikro and Jaden battled side-by-side against the Sith. Their opponents were well versed in warfare, and they knew it would take a lot of work to end this fight. They were old, their opponents young. And yet they spun and weaved in tandem, Vikro complimenting Jaden’s movement precisely.

Their opponents, a Rodian and a woman, struck blow after blow, each one stopped by the impenetrable shield of light that Jaden and Vikro’s lightsabers represented. Finally, realising they were beaten, the Sith stopped, as if to surrender, but Vikro and Jaden remained on guard, knowing that any pause could be naught but a trick.

Only metres away, Dakoth fought his own battle against a man almost twice his size, using all his strength to remain on level footing with the man as he battled him along the edge of the roof of the Praxeum. As the pair battle, he glanced over at Vikro and Jaden, and glanced back to his opponent. That was the last he saw of them. In an enormous roar, a huge explosion rushed out to all corners of the roof, blowing Dakoth clean off, as well as his opponent. On the way down, he struggled with his belt, finally pulling loose a cord he carried in a pocket upon it, flinging it out to slow and finally stop his fall, allowing him to jolt to a stop on the end of the string, and swing, safely, through a window into an upper level room.

Then the pain hit him. Jaden and Vikro had just died, consumed by what he could only guess had been a thermal detonator. They could not have seen it coming, they had been surrounded by malice, and trickery, one little edge more would not have made a difference in the flow of the Force. The Sith had killed themselves, to make sure that their enemy could not survive the battle either.

He collapsed against the wall, breathing hard. He had done his job as best he could, Jaden and Vikro had fought their hardest, sacrificed their lives for the safety of the Galaxy, and now it remained to be seen if the other areas fared as well as he had.

Sith Temple – Reldar Prime

“Here they come!” Roared Darth Minious, as ruby and sulphur blades ignited before him and his men, charging towards them. It seemed that many of Weyx’s militia had been attracted to the Jedi Praxeum, but a large amount of the Byss Sith had headed to where they believed the true threat lay.

Igniting his wrist sabers, Darth Minious was a fearsome site, his long black hair streaming out behind his head in the wind, his cloak, loose upon his body, mirroring his hair. Minious held his stance, and waited for the Byss Sith to meet him.

As they first clashes of blades rang out, Minious leapt forwards, taking on two Sith at once, using his pure muscle to tear their blades from their grasp, pushing them backwards with the Force. As they smashed through their own ranks, Minious stabbed down, destroying their blades, which lay at his feet.

Moving forwards, a Trandoshan Byss Sith stabbed at him. Minious countered the blow, and locked blades with the Sith, easily decapitating him with his other set of blades.

Nothing could stop the Sith Lord in his moment of glory, as he moved through the ranks of Byss Sith, splitting them apart with his blades, as his men on either side pushed through the remnants, tearing into them.

By his side, his former Apprentice Vexen fought, his blade in hand, a fearsome sight himself, as he hacked his way through the horde of Sith, many of whom were novices. Vexen's skills with a lightsaber were, undeniably, extraordinary, and Minious welled with pride as he gazed at the man he had watched transform from a boy into a man before his eyes, the hardships of the war forming him under duress, and producing the man before his eyes.

Finally, a cheer went up as the last of Weyx's with scrambled away, only to be cut down by snipers on the roof of the Temple, leaving an eerie silence in the air.

Today would long be remembered as the day the Byss War ended. Minious smirked, Miedo had lost, he was dead, and it was all for naught. His anger at being betrayed by Minious all those years ago had been ill-spent. Oh the irony was quite delicious! Having been left, betrayed, by Minious all those years ago, he had again be left behind by his Empire.

Jedi Praxeum – Reldar Prime

Xander swung, ducking his head as Mauv first blocked his strike, then struck wildly at Xander’s head. He pushed Mauv back a pace, and, as he was about to strike, stumbled as a massive explosion rumbled the Praxeum at its foundations. A sudden, immense pain struck him, taking a hold of him, and getting inside of his head, seeping in through every pore of his body. He dropped his lightsaber, trying to get it out, but it wouldn’t relent, pushing at him, scrabbling at his brain, and driving pain deeper and deeper into his consciousness.

Mauv was not an unintelligent man. He knew the odds of his survival were slim, and this was his best chance. Flinging out his hand, he pushed Xander from their side of the hangar to the other, smashing him into a wall. Two Jedi charged at him, but Mauv threw Force Lightning at them, forcing them back, struggling with the lightning coming for them. Pushing them as well to join Xander, Mauv turned and ran, ignoring other Jedi as they too came running for him.

He fled the hangar, making it far from the hangar before he stopped. Hiding, he panted quickly, and headed off further, back in the direction of his personal craft. Weyx’s Empire was done for, he knew that, and whatever that Jedi had meant, about who he had been, seemed to ring true to him – the memories of the bacta tank all those years ago now beginning to make sense.

He would start anew, perhaps meekly join with the Kroprulan Empire he had only an hour ago hated with all his being. Now that anger was directed at Miedo, for the secrets he had kept from him, and for holding him back. He had fought battle after battle for the man, not tiring in his devotion, hoping he would eventually get that promotion he so longed for, and it had never come. Shaking his head to clear it of the horrible thoughts rummaging through it, he made his way, slowly and carefully, to his craft.

Xander Vos

Chapter Eleven

**72 ABY (1 Day After Reldar)**

Hyperspace – en route to Bakura

Shattered, but alive. That was the best way Xander Vos could describe his current condition. The revelation that Jysek lived... Xander shook his head. It was horrible seeing his friend, and the monster he had become, snarling at him seconds before escaping, as the remnants of Weyx’s forces collapsed. Xander couldn’t shake away the pure hatred he had felt in that gaze...

He didn’t know how he felt, in truth. The fact that the war that had lasted over three decades was finally over with the death of Weyx, and the utter elimination of his forces meant that there was no chance that the Empire that had been Miedo’s could ever return. He should have been happy, or at least not as miserable as he felt. However, the fact Jysek had escaped meant that there was a lingering threat, and now that the war was over, the Kroprulan Empire would undoubtedly break off its alliance with the Jedi.

Xander’s brow furrowed as he thought, the harmonious lines of blue that signalled he was travelling through Hyperspace flashed past. They would undoubtedly need to send scouts out to surrounding worlds to find a world suitable to take as their new throne world, but Bakura had been their home as long as the Order had existed. It was Xander’s home. He could never see himself leaving it.

He sighed. So many things he couldn’t imagine happening had happened, though. Vikro and Jaden, dead, to Sith suicide bombers. Before leaving that planet of horrid memories, Dakoth had told him the sorry tale of the fate of the pair. Xander shook his head sadly, rubbing his hand through his week old stubble.

It was unfathomable, but his most powerful allies, Vikro, Jaden, had fallen, and yet his Apprentice, Mindal, had survived. He shook his head with wonder, and glanced back at the sleeping boy – no, man – Xander corrected himself. Mindal had grown much since Xander had first taken him a few years back, and was reaching maturity. His actions at Reldar would undoubtedly see him reach the rank of Jedi Knight in a year, maybe two, rather than the much longer time that it would have taken him if circumstances had been different.

He had taken Mindal as his Apprentice nine years ago, before the Battle for Naboo, where he had lost Cain to Jysek, not knowing who Mauv truly was. He remembered how at the time, he had viewed Jysek as a dangerous enemy, but not one who would be a particular threat to either him or the Jedi, but the rage he had felt in Jysek on Reldar, the potential... Xander shivered unconsciously, despite the thermostat being dialled right up. Jysek was too dangerous to be allowed to live, and Xander knew – he somehow knew – that it would have to be him who would kill his old friend, any others who tried to stop him would merely fall in his path.

Council Chambers – Jedi Temple

“The Council has been shattered by the loss of two of its senior members,” Lykken, a Quarren male who had replaced Obi-Tyler when he had been killed twelve years into the war said. His face tentacles twitched with what Abba could only perceive to be sorrow, for that was the emotion radiating from him in the Force. He took a deep breath and continued. Lykken was normally quiet, an observer, so for him to be saying this, it must have been importance, “I suggest promoting both Lyn Korak and Xander Vos to the Council. They played key parts in repelling Weyx’s forces from the Jedi Praxeum, and have been nothing but loyal to the Order, apart from Vos’ incident, but that can be overlooked.”

Abba nodded, and Lykken closed his mouth and sat down. Abba took a deep breath before she began to speak, and realised just how old she was truly getting, “I concur. If there are no objections, I shall raise the two to Council Member in a month’s time, as is tradition. A tradition we can thankfully resume now that this horrid war has come to a close.”

Another Council Member who had known nothing but war on the Council, Dakoth, spoke up, “That’s an interesting tradition. What was the cause for it? Grand Master of the time couldn’t be bothered granting a few titles?”

Abba laughed, “No, the tradition stems from the beginning of the Order, when it was believed that the first day of the month would bring luck. Ever since, every Council Member has been given a seat on the Council on the first day of the month, but since this month has just begun, we must wait until the start of the New Year. I suppose we don’t have to wait, but it’s a tradition I am eager to bring back, for it was lost during the war when having a full Council was a necessity.”

Dakoth nodded, “Makes sense,” he said, then smiled, “I think we’re all glad the war is over. The friends and mentors we have all lost during its duration are so great in number, that it’s a wonder that none of us break down as it is,” he said, all hint of jest gone from his voice, the ache apparent in his voice. Abba shook her head in sympathy: Dakoth had been present at the deaths of Vikro and Jaden, two of the Order’s oldest and most esteemed members.

“Agreed,” She said, sighing, “Agreed.”

“The Outer Rim Republic reports that its operations have resumed at one hundred percent capacity,” Marq Yiyar said, “It’s the first sign of good news, and we really need to embrace it at this stage. I can’t begin to imagine the corruption running through the Republic based on the reports we’ve received, and I really suggest any course of action be staved off. We really need to catch our collective breath and regroup.”

Many of the Council Members nodded in agreement. Marq was known as a stoic, strict man, stern and with a lack of humour, perhaps, but he was well respected, and his desire for order upon the Council made him one of those held in the highest regard, because he got things done. While other Council Members would debate for days on end about a conflict on a far-off planet, Marq would be organising a team of Jedi and soldiers to be taken there to deal with it.

“Again, agreed,” Abba said, pausing to gather her thoughts, “The problems within the Republic are merely political, nothing malevolent about them. If they are allowed to continue for even a few years, nothing horrible will come about, and the Galaxy can again be under a united banner, and not one of legendary cult figures such as ourselves or the Sith, who I’m sure appear to be super-creatures to those normal beings of the Galaxy.”

“I just hope that this isn’t a decision that will get the best of us…” Dakoth mused, “In the past it has been known for the more… corrupt governments to pave the way for elitist orders. We only have to look a century ago for proof of that.”

“Palpatine was an ambitious Sith Lord who pulled the wool over a number of more rational senators’ eyes,” the Duros Gozil said, “His rise to power, though poorly documented on many aspects, is fairly simple to deduce through guesswork. By manipulating events perfectly, he was able to bring about a unique situation in which he could create a need in the Galactic Republic to keep him beyond his normal two terms. Whilst there is potential for this to happen again, I would be extremely surprised if an ambitious Sith Lord were to again gain control of the Republic. With a well established and thriving Sith Empire, there is more than enough opportunity for power for those who crave it, without enslaving a fairly weak and minute Republic as it stands.”

“That brings me to my main concern,” Marq interjected, “The Sith. Who is really certain they will not use their new found knowledge of our home world against us? Who can really be sure that this tentative alliance, forged in our baptism of fire in the fight against the Byss Empire, will hold in this time of fragile peace? They – and we – know who is stronger of the two of us, and they will certainly use this to advantage at one point or another. They are, after all, Sith. Betrayal is in their nature.”

“I think we’re all concerned about that,” Dakoth mused aloud, “Certainly, a large portion of our fleet still survives, with more craft in production above Mon Calamari and other fleet production worlds. Does anyone have exact numbers?”

“Of the ten Viscount-Class Defenders we had at the beginning of the war, four were destroyed, and five built, with another two nearing completion. Of the thirty Strident-Class Defenders we had, twelve were destroyed, three damaged, and thirteen built, the damaged three are nearing full repair, and seven are in production, two nearing completion,” Marq said, reading from his datapad.

“Thank you,” Dakoth said, bowing his head almost – but not quite - mockingly, “Always handy to have the real figures. That firepower we hold, in Star Defenders alone – who knows what else we have, which doesn’t exactly matter,” he hastened to add, as Marq opened his mouth to read off further figures. “The point is, unless they cobble together an entire armada, we are perfectly safe here, and with the Republic nearby, they would be able to help if trouble reached us here. Add to that the ORS being able to warn us, with the right sum, of any fleet movements in the Sith Empire.”

Abba stayed silent, thinking it through, calculating the risks, finally, she reached a conclusion, “The risk is minute at the time being, but if any sign points to a complete disintegration of the alliance between the Sith Empire and our own Order, I will commission an entire evacuation of Bakura. I suggest in the meantime we subtly begin scouting for suitable replacements, mainly worlds out of the way of mainstream tourism, preferably aided by a natural defence to prevent easy discovery.”

When the Council all murmured their assent, Abba rose, “Very well, Council dismissed.”

Jedi Temple – Bakura

Oh how different those young, eager faces appeared now! Xander wanted to scream at them, to tell them to run and hide, to protect everyone they loved, to not let a single one leave their sight, to protect themselves in everyway imaginable. At the same time, he wanted to run in shame, to, himself, hide, and never show his face again. He had survived, where his former Master, Vikro, had not. He had survived to face the Council and explain why his childhood friend had an increasing list of Jedi casualties pinned to his name. He had survived, to face those who were bitter, who were angry, that their allies had been lost, but that Xander, lucky Xander, had survived the war, and come out relatively unharmed.

Xander sighed, and tried to focus, as a young boy tried clumsily to perform Djem So, but couldn’t shake the image of an almost identical time, over thirty years ago – before war had even been declared – of Zhar performing the exact same exercise. Zhar, who had been killed only years before the war’s end. Zhar, who had died because Cain had gone against Xander’s orders and attacked before he should have. His anger at Cain faded almost immediately, however, as he relented that Cain had been acting in the best interests of those around him. But why had he died? At the hands of Darth Mauv at that! The irony twisted in Xander’s stomach like a cold vibroblade searching for its mark.

Jysek had been his first, and his best friend. Lyn was a close companion, but with the way the Jedi operated, he barely saw Lyn anymore, especially considering the remnants of Byss’ Empire required mopping up, and diplomatic convoys needed to be sent to the Sith to negotiate a prolonged alliance. Jysek, the boy he had grown up with, who had first taught him to ride a hover-bike, and who he had always enjoyed foot-races with. Jysek, who Xander had felt he could tell anything to. Jysek, the young man he had seen cut down by Sith on Lorta, moments before Xander himself fell into unconsciousness.

How could Shatterpoint have missed it? Jysek had lain right there, for all to see, and Shatterpoint had rescued only him! Xander shook his head, disgust creeping into him. Shatterpoint had been hasty, saving only the one she believed could live on, the one she felt was stronger in the Force. And finally, the tears began to fall freely from his eyes, for the first time in a long time, as the truth of it all hit him. He couldn’t kill Jysek anymore than he could Lyn – though he’d given it a mighty try on Korriban all those years ago! If Jysek was still out there, then he could prove to again be a threat to the Order, and Xander knew deep down that only he had the power to take on the man.

Arrogance was not a trait held highly by Xander, but he knew what they said, that even Abba appeared a dulled light when stood next to him, the fact that he had Jedi on both side of his family – Jedi Masters at that – had given him an incredible ability, but he had never fully accepted the belief that he held in his hands the fate of the Order. Now, though, that statement had never seemed more true. All those times he had nearly fallen to the Dark Side! He shook his head, the Sword of the Order should not be that susceptible, and he felt unworthy as that thought ran through his head. But he knew, as he had immediately after his fight with Jysek, that their power ran equally, and that meant only Xander would be able to take the man down. He sighed despondently, absently scrubbing the tear from his cheek.

The boy looked up at Xander, his eyes wide with curiosity, “Master Xander sir, why are you crying? Is everything alright? The war is over now, we are at peace!” He said, smiling, and raised a hand to rub Xander reassuringly on the waist – the highest part of Xander that he could reach.

Xander smiled despite himself, “Yes, little one, it is over, that horrid war is over. Now you can live without wondering if tomorrow the world will come crashing down. And now you can learn how to do Djem So properly, you little rascal!”

The boy giggled, “Yes Master Xander,” he said, turning away, with a new found vigour.

Xander paused, and glanced around the room, at the eight, or nine year old students, all beginning their practices with lightsabers for the first time, and all eager to learn. Xander smiled, he hoped that eagerness would never be lost.

Xander Vos

Chapter Twelve

**75 ABY**

Council Chambers – Jedi Temple

“Mindal Reynolt, welcome to the ranks of Jedi Knight, soldier of the Jedi Temple, defender of the weak, protector of peace, warrior against darkness. Rise, and join your comrades,” Nekris Progai announced solemnly, his bulbous eyes staring down at Mindal, as if assessing his every move, which, Xander had no doubt, he was in fact doing.

Having joined the Council a few months before, Nekris had applied himself heavily to the Council, and Xander had watched him do so with great interest. He had been one of the main Council Members pushing to have Nekris appointed to the Council, and his points seemed to have been correct in their assessment. Nekris was, whilst quite stern, very eager to get work done, and had gotten along well with Marq on the Council, the pair applying themselves stoically to their work, and in the past months, the Council had been able to get through far more work than they had planned for a much longer period of time.

Xander couldn’t help but feel pride. He thought that with time, that feeling would diminish, as Apprentice after Apprentice of his joined the ranks of the Jedi Knights, but it never did. Whether it was Wes, Cain, one of his own children, or Mindal, the feeling had been the same, and he knew it would be the same when his son, Ben was promoted to Jedi Knight.

As Mindal rose to his feet, Xander broke into applause with the rest of the Council, and rose to his feet to congratulate his former Apprentice. The man smiled, and returned Xander’s bear hug. The pair were very close, and Xander thought the both of them shared a much closer bond than Xander had shared with any of his other Apprentices – not taking away from his relationships with his former apprentices - just that Mindal and he were far more like brothers, as Mindal had begun training in his late twenties.

Xander paused slightly, sobering, remembering Cain still hurt, even after ten years. His sacrifice had no doubt saved Xander’s life – recent analysis of battle records showed that if the Republic’s soldiers hadn’t been brought in to battle for even just minutes longer, Byss’ forces would have had a tactical edge, and be able to over-run first the Republic’s line of defences set up there – meaning not just Cain’s death, but also Morgz and Danté, as well as the other Jedi taking part in the battle – and allow them to break through to the Republic command centre, resulting in Xander’s death.

His honourable sacrifice had allowed so many others to live, and carry the fight on for another six years, finally bringing an end to the weary war that had lasted far longer than nearly any other Galactic War the Galaxy had ever known. For sure, in comparison to the eleven years of the Galactic Civil War – ending with Thrawn’s defeat of the New Republic – this war had lasted a lifetime – extending into a thirty-second year.

Bringing himself back to earth, Xander smiled, and clapped Mindal on the back. He knew Mindal remembered that battle nearly as well as he. Having been stationed at the Jedi Praxeum under Xander’s orders – foolishly thinking it was a safe haven for his Apprentice – Mindal had been thrust into action on that fateful day four years earlier. And how well he had performed. Xander smiled wistfully, remembering, how Mindal had split off from the main group, leading a small number of Padawans into battle against a squadron of Byss men, losing not a single Padawan in the battle.

Xander moved off, excusing himself as the ceremony began to wrap up, walking briskly out of the room, his official robes flapping slightly in the updraught from the Council doors as they shut quickly behind him, sealing off Mindal and the other Council Members behind him.

Apartment 23100 – Jedi Temple

Xander tapped on the door, trying to remain humble, in the face of the storm he knew would come. Ever since his son, Ben, had become an adult, he had lived in Xander and Mia’s old apartment, as a token of Xander’s humility in not having taken his son as his Apprentice sooner. Truth be told, he and Ben had not been on the best of terms, and hadn’t been for several years.

It seemed whatever Xander did, which he personally thought was in the best interest of his son, turned out to be the very last thing Ben wanted him to do, and had only served to worsen their relationship. Sighing, he waited patiently as he heard Ben get up and amble to the door. The door slid open, sending Xander’s hair flapping across his face.

Ben was slightly shorter than Xander, and so had been all his life both literally and figuratively looking up to his father. And he’d hated it. The look of bitterness on his face was evident as he stared up into Xander’s eyes, the same blue as his own.

“What do you want?” Ben asked suspiciously.

“Mindal’s been knighted,” Xander said, softly – a tone he had taken to using with Ben recently. “I – I’ve come to say I’d like you to be my Apprentice.”

Ben stared at him for a moment, then slowly nodded his head, “Thought you’d get in before you died?”

“Ben, it’s not like that,” Xander said, “You know that. I’ve wanted you to be my Apprentice for a long time but-”

“But what? If you wanted me as your Apprentice, you would have made me your Apprentice before taking Mindal, not conveniently decide to take me after and have me wait an eternity. I’m already thirty-four, kriffing hell! You were knighted when you were twenty-eight!”

“I’m sorry Ben,” Xander said, “I know your training has progressed considerably thanks to Lyn-”

“Yeah, no thanks to you,” Ben said.

Xander inclined his head, and then continued, “And given my position on the Council, I’m sure I can convince them that you are almost ready as it is, and have you promoted in a few years.”

Ben stared at him, weighing up his options. On the one hand, he had waited this long already on some decade-old promise, so he may as well carry through with it; on the other, though, this was his father, the man who’d thrust him to one side in favour of his adoring fans.

Finally he relented. Rolling his eyes, he stuck out his hand, “Alright, Dad, or should I say Master Vos?”

Xander grinned “Whatever you want Ben.”

Ben smiled, and nodded off back towards the turbo-lift, “Better go tell the rellies then, shouldn’t I?”

“I’ll tell your mum, you can go try and find Vikro amongst all those datapads in the Library if you want.”

“I think taking on all of the Byss Empire would be easier than that,” Ben said.

Jedi Library – Jedi Temple

Vikro looked up from the pile of datapads that littered his desk as there was a knock on his door, “Yes?” He called, putting aside A History of Flora and Fauna of Coruscant.

His brother, Ben, edged his way through the door, glancing around, taking in the masses of datapads scattered around the room.

“What is it Ben?” Vikro said, rising from his seat to shake his brothers hand. It was rather formally, but then again, Vikro hadn’t had much to do with the rest of the family in years. Since his promotion to Head Librarian, of course, he’d had so little time on his hands that he just hadn’t had the opportunity to associate with them much at all.

“Dad’s taken me as his Apprentice. Finally,” Ben said, glaring at the ground, shifting from foot to foot.

“That a problem for you?” Vikro said.

“Ah perceptive as always,” Ben said, with more than just a touch of sarcasm. He began pacing the room, “It’s just that it’s been so long! How can he expect me to just wait for him to finish what he’s doing?”

“You did, didn’t you?”

“Well, that’s not the point,” Ben said, “I mean, who does he think I am?”

“His son?”

“Stop it,” Ben said, turning to stare at Vikro.

“Stop what?”

“Turning this back on me, as if it’s my fault that Dad’s been neglecting me all these years.”

“I’m not saying that, just answering your rhetoric questions for you.”

“Well, there is a reason they’re rhetoric you know,” Ben said, picking up a datapad and flipping through it. Vikro noted it was A Complete List of Vacation Spots on Lorrd.

“There’s a great spot in Tiura City if you’re looking for some time off,” Vikro said.

Ben chucked the datapad back onto the table, “How can you read all this?”

“Easily, you pick it up, and you read it. Besides, it’s my job,” Vikro said.

“Still, I guess I’ll go through with it, I mean, I’ve waited this long…”

“Exactly, I say go for it, I mean, Dad’s pretty respected, it’d do wonders for your career. Think about it: Ben Vos, son and trained by Xander Vos, Jedi Master and Council Member.”

“I guess…” Ben grumbled, “Thanks anyway.”

“Any time,” Vikro said, picking the datapad up, flicking back to the spot he’d been up to, as Ben left the room.

Xander Vos

Chapter Thirteen – Finale Part 1

**86 ABY**

Council Chambers – Jedi Temple

“Darth Mauv remains a threat,” Xander Vos concluded, glancing gravely around the chamber. Those faces who stared back at him were more family to him than his own seemed to be. Mia was constantly away, Ben was pushing himself eagerly into the missions a Jedi Knight his age deserved, and Lysa and Tyler were always busy with their own Apprentices – Kepa Lapatyne and Janah Karrde respectively.

Lyn, Dakoth, Abba, all familiar faces, the others Xander had not grown up in close company with, but he felt he knew them just as well. He smiled to himself, the changes to the Order since had first been brought to Bakura nearly eighty years ago had been immense, the wars he had endured – first the Outer Rim Sieges, then the Darth Dude Conflict – had made him the man he was. Now, at the age of ninety-two, his age was catching up with him.

His own daughter had a son, Chak Vos, making Xander a Grand Father. The boy was now eleven year olds, and applying himself eagerly to piloting – the poor boy had no Force Sensitivity. Still, Xander saw that as a blessing not a curse. The Vos family was too heavily involved with the Jedi Order, and it would do his descendants good to have no ties to the Order in the far future, and he hoped Chak was a sign of what was to come.

“On a related matter, the time has come to implement the evacuation,” Abba said gravely, “As you all know, Dakoth recently discovered the planet Pacis in the Deep Core, surrounded by natural disturbances such that it is near impossible to navigate a course to the planet without using the Force – much like the Maw constellation near Kessel. Over the next month, I hope that we can successfully evacuate the entire Jedi Order to the world. Construction has nearly completed on the Temple there, and the Sith would have no inkling as to its location.”

“The timing couldn’t be better,” Marq Yiyar said, “I sense a grave disturbance in the Force, as if something bad is coming, whether soon, or in the future, but Bakura is certainly no longer the safe haven it once was.”

“I agree,” Lyyken said, “There’s something… something coming, it feels like the calm before the storm.”

Xander knew what they meant. For days now he’d been dreaming of a dark figure wielding a ruby lightsaber, looming over him, stabbing him cleanly through the chest… Something was not right, but he knew the way these visions were. The future was always in motion. But he did know he would face the dark figure, and he knew it would be Mauv.

“If I may, I suggest that a few of us remain until the last transport leaves, as a way of determining what this threat is, and whether there is any chance it could transgress Bakura and reach us on Pacis. I offer myself as a volunteer, though I know this old body can’t do much on its own,” Xander said, rousing a few laughs.

“I volunteer as well,” Lyn said, and Xander felt sudden warmth for the man. Lyn had always stood by him through tough times since they had first met in that hall eighty years ago.

“As do I,” Dakoth said.

“I sense…” Abba began, and stopped, then started again, “I sense that I have not much longer in the Galaxy. I’m old, weary, my bones ache and I long for the sleep. I know that sounds gloomy, as if I’ve given up, I haven’t, I just know that my end will come soon, and I would rather chose that end than have it chosen for me. I shall remain as well.”

No one else ventured forth an opinion, so Xander cleared his throat, “So it is decided, Dakoth, Lyn, myself and the Grand Master shall remain with any Jedi Knights, Padawans, and others affiliated with the Order for the last transport, though I do suggest we ready ourselves for an attack,” he said gravely.

Abba nodded, “On a last note before we adjourn, if I do die, I would nominate Lyyken as my successor.”

A ripple of shock was felt around the chamber. The suggestion came from so far left wing Xander had had no clue it was coming. In private discussions most theorised that Marq would be the next Grand Master, due to his tireless work ethic and sense of devotion. The fact that Abba would decide on someone who had not been on the Council for long was a shock to them all.

“Grand Master, I’m – I’m overwhelmed,” Lyyken began, but Abba held up her hand to stop her.

“Don’t, I know what it means to you, but I always feel that people who gush over awards or nominations tend to say less what they mean, and more what they feel is right.”

Lyyken smiled, but didn’t say anything further.

“Council adjourned, I’ll make an announcement to the general population in a week,” Abba said, rising from her seat.

Jedi Announcement Theatre

“Transports shall be making their way to Pacis over the next few weeks,” Abba said, concluding her speech to every Jedi available on Bakura, who had all piled into the rather large room.

There was a ripple of shock throughout the crowd as it was realised that the final transport could very well be destroyed by the Sith, and that anyone on that last transport could very likely die.

“Please return to your various apartments and make your appropriate farewells, the first transport leaves tomorrow,” Abba said.

Xander glanced around the room and spotted Mia, and Ben, heading out of the amphitheatre from one door, and Vikro, Lysa and Tyler heading out of the other. Excusing himself, he jogged down to meet Mia as she stood waiting to leave.

“I’m sorry, I should have told you,” Xander began.

“Sorry?” Mia began, the beginnings of tears showing in her eyes, “My husband might be volunteering to die, and all he can offer is sorry? You didn’t consult me, ask the kids, or even think about what we need, which is a husband and a father.”

“I did think of you guys,” Xander said gently, “But my duty as a Council Member is to the Order at large, and whilst you guys mean the world to me, I can’t be selfish, especially in a time like this. Don’t you worry though, I’ll make it through the other side, you’ll see.”

Mia gazed up into Xander’s eyes, her lips trembling as the tears trickled down her face. She didn’t respond, instead she just wrapper her arms around him, burying her head in his shoulder, her shoulders shaking as she let the tears fall free.

Xander turned as Ben shuffled past, and mouthed ‘I’ll catch you later,’ to him. Ben nodded, and smiled knowingly, and turned, heading out of the room.

“It’ll be alright,” Xander said, trying to comfort Mia, stroking her hair as he rocked her back and forwards. He glanced up, and realised they were the last two in the room, and let go of her, gripping her hand as they walked out, back to their apartment.

“I’m staying as well then,” Mia said firmly.

“No,” Xander said, “If – Force forgive me – something does happen to me, I need you to look after the kids. Ben’s only just warming to me, the others are all distant with me, they clearly have a closer bond with you. It’d kill them if anything happened to you.”

“It’d kill me if anything happened to you,” Mia said quietly.

Xander turned to her, and held her head in his hands, “I promise,” he said gently, “Nothing will happen.”

Mia looked at him, her eyes studying his face, then finally sighed and nodded, “Alright,” she said, “I’ll start packing.”

Jedi Library – Jedi Temple

Xander knocked on Vikro’s door, and he looked up, then looked down again, “Come in,” he said.

Xander shuffled into the room, looking slightly bashful and out of his depth – he had never seen so many datapads in one place, never having been much of a datasponge himself.

“Listen, I just wanted to say-” Xander started, but Vikro put up a hand, not taking his eyes of the datapad on his desk.

“Save it dad, I really don’t care. I know you have your reasons for what you’re doing, and I know that you considered us before making that decision. I know if you die we’ll be distraught, but we love you, and we respect your decision, ok?” He said, looking up, and Xander shivered, at how grown up Vikro had become.

Xander just nodded, “Alright son, but I do love you.”

“Right back at you dad,” Vikro said, standing up and gripping Xander in a strong hug. Finally they broke apart, and Vikro sat back down again. Xander nodded silently, and backed out of the room.

Apartment 1654 – Jedi Temple

Xander knocked, and Tyler called him through to the main room. Xander shuffled through to see Lysa, Ben and Tyler gathered around the dining table, sipping Naboo Port Wine, with glum looks on their faces.

Xander raised his hands placatingly, “Look guys, I’ve talked to Vikro and your mum, and they both agree with me on this. I know this will be tough, but I’ll be right behind you guys. Who knows, the Sith might not even attack, we could have been wrong, and I’ll be right on your tail. If not, we have all of Lyn’s Gold Wing, and a sizeable amount of troops on the last transport, so even if they do attack, they’ll be hard pressed beating us,” he said with a wink.

His attempt at confidence didn’t faze the three, who kept looking glumly at their laps. He raised his hands helplessly and let them fall against his sides. “I’m sorry,” he said finally, gently, giving them each a kiss and a hug, and then turned quietly and left the room, leaving them each with silent tears streaking their faces.