"PROXY, are you ready?"
Juno stood to the left of the droid who was now plugged into the Holonet signal jammer and preparing to upload the program he had recently created. He replied calmly in his light tone, "Yes Master. The program is ready to be uploaded at your signal." A soldier, one of the first to join the ranks of fledgling Rebel Alliance, raised an eyebrow as he tinkered with the jammer. "What exactly are we doing here Admiral Eclipse? I wasn't really briefed before hand."
Juno was silent for a moment, recalling the exploits of the man she had known for mere months and yet had loved deeply. Perhaps it was his past or his initial broody attitude, or perhaps it was the fierce devotion he gave to the rebel senators once he had decided to help them.
"We're going to make sure everyone knows exactly how it was that this Alliance that fights for their freedom was created by telling them the story of its founder."
The soldier stared at her for a moment before replying, "Senator Organa?"
Juno began fiddling with pieces of machinery to distract her from the pain of memory. Even after everything he had done, the lives he had saved and his ultimate sacrifice, still no one knew who he was. "Not, Bail. Galen Marek, Jedi Knight and main instigator of the Rebellion. PROXY?"
The droid turned back to her and was momentarily covered in pulsing purple energy. The lights dissipated and in his place stood a tall, dark featured man with a shaven head. His face was worn hard by years of toil and a lightsaber hung at his belt. He wore the white, leather robes of a Jedi adventurer.
"Galen Marek, son of Master Kento Marek. Apprentice to Dar-"
"That's enough for now PROXY." She turned to the soldier as the droid resumed its former appearance. "This is his story. PROXY has turned the accounts of his early missions into a... holo-drama, for lack of a better term, and we're going to show the people the lesson it cost him his life to learn; that we are in control of our destiny. Not the Empire, not Vader and not Palpatine."
The soldier, at a loss for a response, instead chose to resume his work while Juno queried the Rogue Shadow. A gruff male voice replied instantly. "Ship's ready to bang out, girl. Cloak is operational and sensors are at maximum to detect the inevitable Imperial response when you start broadcasting." He was silent for a moment then asked. "How are you feeling, Juno? I sense a great deal of unrest in your mind."
"I'm..." Juno considered. How did she feel? She was sad, and angry, and resolute, but mostly... glad. Glad that people would finally know about Galen's sacrifice. And, if Kota was right, Galen would smile at her from the Force for the act she was to perform.
"I'm fine Rahm. Just fine."
"Good. Good. Well, get on with it girl! And may the Force be with you."
Juno inhaled deeply, got a thumbs up from the soldier, and turned to PROXY. "Prox, jam and begin transmission."
Codename: Starkiller – The Early Missions
A single bead of perspiration dropped silently, momentarily pooling the sand below him into a thick paste before sinking beyond sight.
The boy's left hand was placed beside his left leg as he knelt low to the ground. In his right was a small metal cylinder which he occasionally thumbed as though for reassurance. His bare back bore a fresh burn mark, punishment from his master for failing to evade a simple attack, and his chest was lined with scars. Deep brown eyes searched the terrain before him and, upon noting movement near a crop of rocks, locked instantly. His awareness reached outward until he sensed the figure's gaggle of emotions; anxiety, fear, hate, desperation. He smiled at the irony – the very emotions he had been taught to use to empower himself were causing his prey to become careless and make mistakes. There was a small spark of systematic and synthetic energy emanating from behind the rocks and the boy knew instantly that it meant his target had more of his plundered battle droids. It did not matter. Relics of the Clone Wars were no match for the power that buzzed through the body of the fifteen year old assassin. He stood slowly, his left hand reaching for the comm device in his ear, and said in a lilting voice full of pubescent breaks , "Captain, can you give me a count on the number of droids the target has with him?"
There was no response for a moment as his pilot checked the scanners on the Rogue Shadow and then; "I can't get an exact count. Too much sand in the sensors. But I'm reading at least one squad clearly, so expect heavy resistance."
The boy smiled once more. Thirteen squads would have been heavy resistance, one was... fodder. He dashed forwards, his affinity for the Force lending him both speed and manoeuvrability, and began to cross the distance that separated him from his target. The man's emotions, now acting as a homing beacon for the young boy, drew him in until all the confusion suddenly became replaced with a deadly sense of purpose and victory.
The boy skidded to a halt and immediately expanded his danger sense, all too late. Below him there came a loud thud and a torrent of sand rose upwards bringing with it rock and indigenous life. The explosion caught him by surprise and he barely managed to avoid serious injury by dodging back. The second explosion caught him full on. He flew into the air, metal cylinder dropped, and landed hard on the ground. A series of explosions sounded around him and the boy knew, almost without emotion, that he was about to die.
Admiral Kur-Makinii, a tall Muun formerly in command of the most decorated brigade within the Confederacy of Independent Systems (besides that of General Grievous of course), laughed as he watched the small body thrown about by the force of the explosions. His pursuer, whoever he was, had pursued him for days, slaughtered his courtesans and destroyed the orbital facility with which he had planned to build a fleet for the new droid army. His 'retirement' had been cut to an early end long before this, however. It came with the communication he had received from one Gizor Dellso, a Geonosian who had secretly located and reactivated a droid production facility on the hellish world of Mustafar. In exchange for ships, Dellso was prepared to send Kur-Makinii droid reinforcements in preparation for the civil war they both hoped would oust Palpatine from his black throne.
As the body fell to the ground and was buried by debris, Kur-Makinii let out a small yip of delight and screamed, "Jedi scum! Hunt me down will you? I know how to deal with the likes of you! I killed thousands upon thousands of your kind in the war!"
From behind a mechanical voice blankly replied to his ramblings. "Admiral, our records indicate your total Jedi kills was one. A Padawan who died when you dropped your thermal detonator and accident-"
"Silence!" Kur-Makinii spun to face the droid and threatened to reduce it to slag if it didn't immediately be quiet and taint his victory. He stared hard at the droid, waiting for the standard "Roger, roger," they barked when given an order. Instead of replying the droid simply moved its head to look behind the Muun before cautiously raising its weapon.
Kur-Makinii spun slowly and saw nothing out of the ordinary. There was no sign of the assassin; the sand was calm (with the exception of the unsettled cloud around the mines). The rocks were still and devoid of movement, even the one that had not yet fallen to the ground. The one that was slowly but surely falling upwar...
Upwards?
It was joined by another, and another and another, and moments later all of them had risen high above the sand and below a small figure rose to its feet.
The rocks dashed forward, slamming into his droid guards and surrounding him. Desperately he bellowed orders to his remaining guards.
"Platoon! Form a line! Get me out of here!"
This time the response was immediate. With cries of "Roger, roger," the droids blasted the rock away and formed a line in front of him as the figure began dashing forward once again. "BLAST HIM!" The droids opened fire as their arms immediately spun to face each other. Kur-Makinii yelped and dropped to the ground as his droids reduced each other to spare parts before they ceased fire and, free to move again, faced forwards. Two flew high into the air and didn't come back down. Another three were pushed back into the rock behind him and ground to scraped metal, and the last simply fell apart, its bolts and pins flying outwards like mini bullets. Kur-Makinii watched as the figure leapt high into the air and extended its right hand, into which flew a small object that immediately hummed with red flame as its owner landed.
Desperate the Muun drew his blaster and opened fire. The assassin batted the lasers harmlessly to the side and gestured with his left hand. The blaster flew out of the admiral's hand and into the heap of broken battle droid at his feet.
Starkiller smiled at the Muun's desperation and deactivated his blade. He brought his right hand up and felt the throat of the target clench beneath invisible fingers as he lifted him bodily off the ground. The alien clutched at his throat and choked through a blocked windpipe. "Pleasssse... don'... keel..."
The boy's face grew grim as he released the long necked, ugly creature and let him drop to the ground, scrabbling about on his knees as he gasped for air. "Ohthankyouthankyouthankyou! I can make you very rich, boy. Very rich. I'll do anyth-"
"Who's your contact?" The boy was not interested in money or power. He wanted only what his master had sent him here for.
The admiral stopped blathering on and paused. His face betrayed the lie he was about to tell, as did the swirl of emotions within him. "Contact? I have noURK!" The boy dashed him hard against the rock behind him and lit his blade. With a gesture the Muun was lying face down at the boy's feet as the blade hovered precariously close to the long neck.
"Your contact!"
"Okay! Don't hurt me! His name is Gizor Dellso. He's on Mustafar, but wh-"
"And the shipyard you use to produce your fleet?"
The Muun's eyes flashed around, looking for a non-existent escape route before sighing and murmuring, "The Unknown Regions. A world called Lehon. Its protect-"
The crimson arc that passed through his neck silenced him forever and the boy commed his ship and requested pick up.
The signature snap-hiss of a lightsaber being ignited cut him off and he dodged to the left, avoiding a vertical stroke, bent backwards at the waist to avoid the horizontal followup and leapt up and backwards over his attacker to evade the final blow. He caught sight of a tall man with long brown hair. He wore robes of black and brown and carried a blue blade in his gloved right hand.
Starkiller laughed as he landed and activated his own blade. "Skywalker, PROXY? Vader raised me on his fighting style. I know all of his tricks."
Starkiller blocked the blow to his neck, bringing his blade up and baring his teeth at the droid. He condensed a ball of energy beneath his feet and let it explode, pushing him upwards. His blade caught the head of his attacker and on the fall back down he slashed through 'Skywalker's' torso. As the body fell it shivered with energy before revealing the body of his longtime companion PROXY. Starkiller placed his weapon on his belt and began picking up the pieces of his friend as the Rogue Shadow hovered overhead.