- Joined
- Aug 9, 2014
- Messages
- 1,038
- Reaction score
- 76
Ruination! The Republic, once a bastion for peace, has rotted from the inside. Now ruled by the Emperor, the Republic was mutated into the Galactic Empire. It has been four years since the galaxy had been dominated by the Sith.
However, the Dark Side has yet to corrupt everything; pockets of resistance have began to surface, and despite them being all but destroyed during Order 66, the Jedi Order continues to exist in small numbers.
One such pair of Jedi, Padawans Alanna Noymara and Krellis Odorin, have managed to survive the unceasingly hounding Imperials for the past five years. But now, their luck is beginning to run short.
With their remaining allies scant, and their list of places to run becoming short, the duo make haste to Ossus; a dead planet that could harbor them, and is rumored to contain ancient histories on the Jedi…
However, the Dark Side has yet to corrupt everything; pockets of resistance have began to surface, and despite them being all but destroyed during Order 66, the Jedi Order continues to exist in small numbers.
One such pair of Jedi, Padawans Alanna Noymara and Krellis Odorin, have managed to survive the unceasingly hounding Imperials for the past five years. But now, their luck is beginning to run short.
With their remaining allies scant, and their list of places to run becoming short, the duo make haste to Ossus; a dead planet that could harbor them, and is rumored to contain ancient histories on the Jedi…
“Padawan Vastra, do you know why we called you before us today?”
The Jedi Council room was underlit; the curtains were drawn, making the faces of the attending Council members hard to discern. Rane Vastra, sixteen years old and led to believe he was on the cusp of Knighthood, pretended to ponder the Master’s question, “I assume something important; If I didn't, you'd be so kind as to tell me, right Master?”
“Please take this serious, Padawan,” sighed one of the shadowy masters, “We do not take as much joy in this as you think we do.” The voice was stern, matter of fact, and to the point. Hearing it made Rane tense on reaction, as though he were about to be put through a rigorous inspection. Rane knew this voice well; spend nearly a decade being lectured by the same person and it felt like you could pick them out of a lineup of all the galaxy’s citizens.
“Of course, Master.” Rane complied along with a bow of humility. A moment of silence passed before the same Master spoke again.
“You were called before this council to discuss the past events on Korunnai, in which we have been led to believe that you endangered the code that we live by and let your emotions claim the best of you. This is a very serious accusation for such a prospective learner such as yourself, Padawan Vastra. If you have anything to say, now would be the time.”
_____________________________________________________________________
Five Years Later…
“Vastra…. Vastra.” The voice was lighter and less pissed off than the one Rane had listened to in his dreams, but that soon changed. It repeated his name rhythmically, as though it would call life into the man’s inert frame.
Rane was face first in his pillow, ignoring the nagging voice rather poorly. He grabbed both ends of the pillow and stuffed them into his ears, drowning out the nagging but making it rather difficult to breath. Worth it.
The voice ceased its vain efforts. It chuckled, and went silent; Rane thought he finally won, but was proven wrong as a steel toe boot promptly entered his side. He grabbed at the pain and rolled over to look his assailant in the eyes.
Gaz Talcna, an aging Duros and Rane’s bunkmate, stood over him smirking; his yellowing teeth highlighting his mouth in the darkness of the room. Rane jabbed at the air with a finger, aiming it at the grinning alien.
“Hey! We agreed--*cough* to take it easy on the wake up calls!”
“We sure did,” Gaz goaded his bunkmate, “but that’s only when your lazy ass gets up the first time I call you.” He leaned in close to the prone man, swatting the prodding finger away, “Now get your ass up; it’s your watch.” Toothpaste was a luxury at this point, but that doesn't mean Rane could ever get used to the scent of an alien with tooth decay.
Rane swatted at the Duros with his pillow, but Gaz snatched it from his friend’s hand before it could connect with his face, “Mine now.”
Rane groaned dramatically before he rose from the cot. It took him only a few minutes to collect his appropriate gear (including a salvaged DC-15 rifle), and for Gaz to make himself comfortable on the now vacant cot. The Corellian was getting ready to head out when Gaz stopped him, “Hey, almost forgot: Captain wants to see ya.”
“About?” Rane asked, stopping in the doorway. Captain Auxian never spoke much to those she didn't have to, so a face to face conversation usually meant she had some shit to hash out with you.
Gaz was laid back with his legs crossed, hands folded behind his head when he gave Rane a shrug, “No clue, but she’ll be waiting at your post. Now get out and let me sleep.” With that, Rane stepped out of the bare, stone room and into the similar looking hallway. The hallway belonged to an ancient ruin on the planet Ossus, the latest bastion for the ousted Antarian Rangers.
Rane thought back to the Collapse of the Republic while on his way to his post; his thoughts were given a tempo of echoing boots in the empty hallway. Rane had been alongside the Rangers, charging Separatist lines on the planet Orto when he felt as though someone lit his veins on fire; his legs gave way in the middle of the battle, which forced a few of his squadmates to disengage and carry Rane to safety. No one in the Rangers knew exactly what happened during the Collapse, but when next they came across Clone Troopers, and were almost immediately fired upon, Rane had to figure that someone in the government wasn't in their right mind.
And he was right.
Chancellor Palpatine, now the Emperor, had branded both the Jedi and the Rangers as traitors to his new galactic order.
Rane couldn’t figure out the details about how all of the events of the past few years came to be; the Rangers had no secure access to the HyperNet, so the best they ever got were rumors from farmers or merchants on backwater planets. The ex-Jedi was well aware of his current situation, though: wandering the halls of an ancient Jedi ruin, just like the ghosts that still cling to the living.
Rane’s post was near close to the precipice of the aging temple; a short lift ride a few floors up and another vacant hallway ferried him to his home for the next four hours. His post was a balcony with an overwhelming vantage on the neighboring lands. What has now been affectionately referred to as the “Crops o’ Dust” by the Rangers continued to do what it did best: rot. The loose sands of the barren planet were easily picked up by the weak breezes of the morning; and, just as expected, Captain Auxian sat on the handrails watching the sunrise while waiting for the young man.
Captain Auxian’newa was a female Twi’lek who had been with the Antarian Rangers for far longer than any Ranger could guess. No one knew her real age, but it was quite obvious that no matter how old she was, the Captain aged extremely well. Plus, she was a kick-ass soldier. Rane had seen her wrestle a Super Battle Droid to the ground and gut the thing with her vibroknife firsthand. He had been head-over-heels for the woman ever since.
Rane stood there for a moment, admiring the view of his CO and the natural “beauty” of the sky. Her auqamarine skin made her seem like a refreshing oasis in the sickly brown desert of Ossus.
“Are you just going to stand there, Corporal Vastra? Or, are you going to join me at your post?” The Captain’s words, spoken with her back to Rane still and a gentle pat of the rail, shocked him back to the real world.
“I’m gonna have to get a raincheck, ma’am,” Rane said as he approached his Captain’s side. He peered over the edge of the balcony at the battlements below. They had initially been hastily set up in fear that the Empire wasn’t far behind, but the lack of contact with anyone beyond the sector had given the Rangers the time needed to turn the temple into an actually defensible position, “If I sit now, I’m just gonna fall back asleep.”
Captain Auxian chuckled, “Fair enough, Corporal.” Rane could see her lekku twitch and undulate slightly as she spoke, “Beautiful morning, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, if you like dead things.” Rane was deadpan as he studied the barren wastes about him. It was something the Captain always found amusing about him, “Is that why you came to visit me, ma’am? To enjoy the sunrise?”
“Well, there’s that,” Auxian said, still gazing out into the distance, “And this too.” She offered him a datapad, a new model by the look of it. Rane accepted the device with some hesitance.
“Where’d you get your hands on this?”
“Scouts returned last night from the Core Worlds. Brought that with them.” Rane fiddled with the datapad as Auxian talked. Within, he found an assortment of articles from the past few years. They were all categorized under the keyword: “Jedi.”
“‘Jedi Temple Burned to the Ground following Intense Battle between Jedi and Imperial Army; Renegade Jedi Apprehended by Loyalists on Corellia; Jedi Scum Put to the Sword in Public For-- Captain, what the hell is this?” He had been reading of a select few headlines from the list, his anger growing word by word, “You trying to scare me into hiding?”
Auxian shook her head, her lekku following suit, “No. The opposite, really. Just… Keep reading.”
Rane sighed and continued to scan the headlines; there was more of the same the further he went down the list. He was about to toss the damned datapad off the balcony when he came across a peculiar title, “Empire to Revitalize Archaeological Programs: Searching for Ancient Aliens on Ossus... It’s from a few days ago… What does this mean?”
“It means, we’re not safe,” Auxian finally stood up to face Rane. She was about his height, maybe an inch or two shorter, “You know exactly where we are, Vastra: an ancient Jedi temple, ripe for the pickings. And now that we've found that in the catacombs...”
“You think the Empire is coming here? For whatever the hell we’ve been trying to dig up for the past year? Something they'd have no frikkin' clue of knowing about?”
“Not just that. The Emperor is calling for our heads.”
Rane scoffed, tossing the datapad back at his Captain, “You’re paranoid, ma’am.”
“You don’t get to a position like mine without a fair bit of paranoia.” Captain Auxian cradled the datapad in the fold of her left arm, “They’re trying to snuff out the last remnants of the Jedi; your people… you.” She came closer to Rane; he could discern her scent from the pungent death of the planet around him. She smelled like sweat and fear, just like the rest of the Rangers.
“Afraid of losing me, Auxian?”, Rane asked jestingly.
“I’m afraid of losing all my soldiers, Corporal.” Auxian’s tone changed from concerned to annoyed like the flip of a switch, “But what I’m truly afraid of is losing all of my friends, in a way that I couldn’t stop. In a way that would break my heart.”
Rane lowered his head, embarrassed, “I’m sorry, ma’am.”
Auxian shook her head, “Don’t be. That’s the reality of command.” She turned away from Rane, facing back towards the decaying plains, “Just… When the time comes, don’t get carried away. If the rumors we keep hearing are true, you’ve already lost more friends than I could ever bear to.”
Rane nodded silently, his thoughts being pulled back to his days amongst his fellow Jedi; the days of his youth, a simpler time.
Silence hung around for what seemed like a lifetime, the two soldiers silently accompanying the other, keeping eye contact. Rane was the one to break the silence, “Is there anything else I can do for you, ma’am?”
“Yes, there is,” Auxian sighed. “In preparation for what’s to come, I want you and a few men to establish a listening post close to the ruins a few miles east. If we’re not the Empire’s first stop on their whirlwind tour of archeological pursuits, I want to know immediately.”
Rane nodded, “It’ll get done, ma’am.”
Auxian smiled; it was weak and weary, but it still managed to warm Rane’s heart. She placed a hand on his shoulder, “You’re a good soldier, Rane.”
“Only the best soldiers for the best commander, ma’am.”
With that short exchange, Captain Auxian left Rane to his own devices. The Corellian returned to the balcony and his view of the “Crops.” He stood there for a time, cradling his rifle in his arms, before noticing the Captain had left her datapad behind.
Can’t be coincidental, thought Rane. Despite his misgivings to the shoddy journalism he had witnessed earlier, Rane snatched the datapad up and began familiarizing himself with what the galaxy had done to his people over the past few years.
@Oncaro @Tristar
Last edited: