Chapter 01: Stranger
(??? POV)
My Star Fighter Immediately fell out of hyperspace, and I quickly saw where I had crash-landed. A Mountain Range stretching into the distance, with trees down one side. I was intending to make it to the planet Tatooine, on a mission, but I had programmed my coordinates wrong. Or so it seemed. I quickly got out of my spaceship, and pulled out my com-link. I tried to get through to the Jedi Temple, but failed. There was no connection. Well, I thought, grimacing as I left the trees, coming out upon a tarmac road. This Planet is strange. One thing's certain though. It's not Tatooine.
Oh, and my name? Zero Higaru, born on the Planet Corusant. Jedi Padawan. I'm fourteen, yeah, and just going to Tatooine under my master, Raven Thorn's orders. Suddenly, I looked around and saw a creature with hairs all over its body, surrounded by three others. What the hell?
"This boy's got strange clothing," sneered one. So, they speak Corusanti? (That's the language of my people.) "And I think he'll make a nice tasty snack. Fire, boys!"
One quickly reached for a gun-type object, and shot several rounds of yellow things out of the end. This Planet hadn't evolved to Lasers, yet, I see. I tried to activate my Lightsaber, and deflect the yellow thing, but I was too slow. The bullet hit me in the arm, and I screamed in pain.
"Let's kill him!" the leader said, pouncing towards me. With my non-wounded arm, I quickly held my hand out, and felt the force flowing through me. The beasts paused in surprise, before getting thrown back, and dropping to the floor, dead. But my wound was starting to bleed. I needed help, or I would die. I managed to limp down the road, before turning right, and then I fell to the floor outside an E-shaped building. I was on the doorstep, lying wounded. I… need… help. Was my last thought before I blacked out.
(Max's POV)
We were sitting at our table, having breakfast. Iggy was cooking. Did it bother me that a blind boy four months younger than I am could cook better than I? No, not particularly. Angel entered the room when Iggy had made scrambled eggs, and Nudge and Gazzy closely followed her. Fang was already at the table.
"Mornin', Max," Gazzy slumped down into the seat next to Fang, and helped himself to some eggs.
"Morning, Gaz," I yawned, eating my own breakfast.
A few minutes later, Angel pushed her empty plate back and said, "Who wants to come and pick Strawberries?"
"I do," Nudge replied, getting up from the table. "We can, all go, can't we? Pleeaase, Max?"
"Why not?" I got out of my own chair, just as Gazzy did what he was most known for. "Urgh, jeez, Gazzy!" I groaned.
"Gas… Mask!" Iggy breathed, faking vomiting. "I'm finished."
"Let's go," Nudge was already at the door. She opened it, and then screamed.
"What is it?" I asked, dashing into the hallway and saw what had made her so shocked. A boy, round about my age, was lying wounded on the floor. Blood had run down his arm, which was covered in a strange brown suit, held together by a belt with weird things on it. His short brown hair was held up in a ponytail, and he was unconscious.
"Wha'?" Gazzy gasped, shocked. "Is he okay?"
"He needs help," Nudge commented. "Quick, get him in!"
"So that, kind of screws our chances of going to pick strawberries, doesn't it?" asked Fang, as we carried the boy inside.