Star Wars: Jedi Assassin

An Assassin's Creed\Star Wars Crossover.

All disclaimers apply.

Chapter 1 (Revised)

If you are reading this, then you had better prepare yourself. My name is Greg Peyton, formerly of Cornwall, now of Yavin 4.

I was born in 1341 in Cornwall, and my parents were both fisherman. At least, that is what the realm assumed we were.

Truthfully, like my father, I was raised to be an Assassin, and I was trained to show no fear, to be the best at everything I could be when in combat, and to adapt to any weapon or situation that came my way.

I don't remember much of my childhood, since it has been so many years since then.

I was built to survive and adapt to harsh environments by my father, who had been a soldier in his early days. My mother was as loving as any mother could be, as beautiful as she was quick-witted and tart-tongued.

I stood over six feet tall, my hair the color of sand, my eyes the color of the sea. My body was built light and hard, and I made a point of letting my twin swords to my talking for me. When I spoke, every word was measured, and full of dry wit. I would be a liar if I said that I was meek or full of tremulous doubt.

I was sixteen when everything changed.

I went fishing alone in my small boat out in the sea, and was caught in a storm and thrown overboard. I splashed into the water, my two broadswords weighing me down, and the water closed over my head. I sank into the depths, and the last thing I thought before darkness closed over me and water filled my lungs, was how my parents would survive without my strength and skill.

I woke up, spitting out a huge mouthful of water. I looked around as I stood. I was standing on nothing but whiteness, and that was everything I could see.

"Greetings, Gregory Peyton." A feminine voice issued from everywhere, which was nowhere.

"Who are you? Where am I?" I demanded, whirling around me in an effort to see who had spoken.

A woman, or rather, the image of a woman appeared in front of me. She wore long golden robes, had long red hair, and piercing grey eyes. The only things that indicated anything to me about her identity was a spear she was carrying, and a large brown owl on her right shoulder. She had the air of agelessness and wisdom that permeated from her.

"You are dead to your world, but your parents promised me your service years before you were born, so you will fulfill their promise."

Bowing, I stared at her. "I do not understand."

She gave me a sad smile. "Someday, you will."

I nodded. My father had taught me to be ready for anything, and though I was sad that my parents were where I couldn't be, I would not let them down.

"Minerva? Goddess of War and Wisdom?"

She shook her head. "That is one of my names. In reality, I am one of Those Who Came Before."

My eyes widened, and she smiled. "So you do remember our story? That is good, but it will not help you where you will go."

I shrugged. "Where ever I am going, any information is valuable."

She smiled. "Spoken like your mother. You know the Creed, but you will have few Assassins to help you. Trust whom you please, but do not do so lightly. Do you understand?"

I nodded, and Minerva stretched out her hands. "My gift to you."

I looked down, and saw that I was wearing my father's Assassin Robes and Hidden Dagger.

"Now listen closely." She said. "It has been a year since a fledgling rebellion overthrew a massive galactic empire. A rebel agent named Kyle Katarn is at the center of this particular story."

Minerva gave me an overview of Katarn's exploits and the history of the rebellion and the Empire.

Then she told me of the Jedi, a group of peacekeepers and warriors that had protected the Republic before being almost wiped out by the Sith.

The Sith reminded me of the Templars with their passion for power and dominance over others.

I could not deny that such a galaxy blew my mind, but I would persevere anyway. I had to do so, since I was an Assassin.

"Your duty is simply said, but not easily done: what you must do is keep Katarn from falling to the Dark Side of the Force, by any means necessary. A Jedi Knight named Rahn will explain the rest before you start out on your journey. This mission will be difficult, but I have faith that you will prove adequate."

Before I started my mission, I was trained with rifles and pistols that shot deadly red lasers, and my swords were replaced by lightsabers. They were essentially laser swords used by the Jedi, and their lasers were the length of my original swords, and were deadly to touch because they could cut and melt through anything.

My hereditary powers of Eagle Vision was perfected.

Not only would I encounter humans, but droids and aliens as well. I was shown all of the planets and alien species in the Galaxy so that I could deal with them if I had to.

All this training took time, but I was in a place where time meant nothing, so I did not dwell on how long it took.

Minerva also gave me a cover story. I was born on the planet Corellia, and never knew my parents, who had been killed by the Empire.

I trained myself to be an Assassin for Corellian independence, and was a fledgling Jedi with some power. I had been involved in several assassinations of Imperial targets, and had always wanted to join the Rebellion.

When I asked how I would be able to prove all of this, Minerva smiled and told me not to think about it.

When I was done with my preparations, Minerva bade me good luck, and everything went white.

A moment later, a man in dark brown robes designating his rank as Jedi Knight appeared before me.

"So you are the Assassin that Minerva sent to help us. She spoke highly of you, and I sense your strength and confidence. You will have need of both, young Peyton. Kyle's destiny is dangerous, as you will see."

Rahn proceeded to explain his life story, and of the Valley of the Jedi, a burial mound in which hundreds of Jedi souls were trapped.

Jerec, an upstart Sith Lord with dreams of galactic domination, wanted to harness the explosive and volatile energy that the Valley could unleash. If Jerec got to this place, he could destroy the galaxy or rule it as he pleased.

"Kyle does not know this, and is at a Cantina at Nar Shaddaa looking for information of the man who killed his father. That is where you will go first. May the Force Be With you, young one."

A second later, I was standing in a crowded city street, looking up at a sign that said "The Rimmer's Rest Cantina" with flashing letters.

I glanced to either side, observing the different species of aliens, droids, and humans milling around me from underneath my hood. I was wearing the usual Assassin outfit, only it was dyed blue with a black hood, leather leggings, and boots that were extraordinarily well-made and comfortable. The uniform was complete with a Hidden Blade gauntlet, and Bryar Pistols dangling from a belt at each hip.

I hid my two light sabers in my vest, as Minerva advised me to use them sparingly, and hide them often.

"I suppose this is the place." I muttered, and entered the cantina.

Waving aside the cheerful receptionist, I turned on my Eagle Vision, and perused the tables, looking for my target.

It didn't take long to find him.

The man wore a white shirt with leather pants and boots, a pad of the armor that stormtroopers used on one shoulder. He was tall and muscled, with a broad face, and short black hair and beard. His eyes were dark and wary, and he was watching a hologram that depicted his younger self being congratulated by his father for getting accepted into the Imperial Academy.

His father, Morgan Katarn had been a leader of the Rebel Alliance on the moon Sulon, which was the only moon on Sullust. He had been killed in an imperial raid, and Kyle had left the Empire after learning of this.

This particular Rebel agent was a mercenary who was responsible for the theft of the Death Star plans, and the destruction of the Dark Troopers project.

I walked up to him. "May I sit here, my Lord? This place is the only place I can sit since it is too crowded in this damned place."

He looked up at me, and nodded. "Sure, kid, but I'm not a Lord." His voice was deep and slightly raspy.

I sat down next to him, and held out my hand. "Greg Peyton, freelance Assassin from Corellia."

Cautiously, he shook my hand with his own broad hand, his grip strong and confident. "Kyle Katarn, mercenary of the Rebel Alliance. You look a little young for an assassin."

I shrugged. "Perhaps, but you will find that I can kill as efficiently as any man."

Kyle Katarn looked carefully at the youth, who's face was obscured by a hood.

He was kind of tall, but his voice had barely begun to mature. However, there was an air of danger and confidence about the kid that intrigued Kyle.

This kid had killed men.

He wore close-fitting blue clothing and boots, betraying a strong body. He appeared to be unarmed save for two pistols, but Kyle sensed that there was a weapon of some kind attached to Peyton's right wrist.

Kyle made a mental note to keep an eye on Peyton, he thought, as he turned back to his hologram.

He didn't trust me, and that was good. I would be disappointed if he had.

My father once told me that instant trust was a weakness, and I knew just by looking at Katarn that he was anything but weak.

My hearing caught the sound of metal feet approaching before a mechanical voice made itself known: "A family hologram. How touching."

We both looked up to see a tall droid which had a bulbous, oval shaped head. It had claws for fingers, was wrapped in a brown traveling cloak, and seemed to go out of its way to appear human. The droid's voice sounded masculine, with a distinct air of smugness and self-importance.

"My personal life is none of your business, 88." Katarn snarled.

The droid sniffed. "On the contrary, it is very much my business. Mind if I sit down?"

Katarn nodded reluctantly, and the droid sat down across from us.. "Don't waste my time, 8t88. You called this meeting, and said you had information on the man who killed my father." Kyle's voice was laden with menace, and I could tell that he didn't care for 8t88.

Neither did I, come to think of it!

The droid started complaining how hard it was to be a droid as well as a source of information, but I lost my patience, pulled out a Bryar Blaster Pistol, and aimed at 88's head. "I would advise you to relay the information you have for my comrade here."

When this happened, the droid quickly spilled out the information. I caught Kyle's approving grin as he did so.

"He's a Dark Jedi, known as Jerec. You know him?"

Kyle nodded, his face darkening. "I've met him. When I was at the Academy, he singled me out, and gave me a medal for bravery."

88 tilted his head to the side. "He must have an interest in you, then."

Kyle smiled. "If he wants me, he just needs to keep looking over his shoulder, because that's where I'll be."

8t88 shook his head. "I doubt it, owing to the two goons with blasters pointed at your back."

Kyle made to stand up, and I turned, and saw that the droid was right. I should have realized that these two louts were behind us!

I made to rise, but Kyle's left hand seized my wrist, while the right surrendered his weapon.

Chuckling stupidly, the two goons stood on either side of us. The one on my side was close enough to grab, but I would bid my time, even though he proceeded to relieve me of my two blasters.

The droid began to question Kyle about a family data disk he had found at the Katarn household, but the unimpressed agent offered nothing but invectives that had me chuckling, despite the gravity of the situation.

The droid sighed. "He's all yours, boys. The more pieces he is in, the more money you will make. I don't care about the other." He finished as he left the bar.

One of the goons replaced him and told Kyle that he would never leave the city alive, and I made my move.

I pulled the skinny Rodian standing next to me over my shoulder, and slammed him onto the table. My hidden blade finished him off, while my left hand grabbed his Blas-Tech pistol.

In no time, both our pistols were pointing at the remaining henchman, who paled and left the bar at a run.

Kyle turned to me, looking impressed. "Nice work, Kid. That's a handy weapon you've got!"

I smiled. "It was easy for someone of my talents, Sirrah. Speaking of which, you might need them."

He nodded, after a moment of thought. "All right. You got yourself an employer. Follow me."

With a word of apology to the highly-displeased bartender, we left the Cantina.

Outside, I turned on my Eagle-Vision, but the street was too convoluted with colors and shapes. "Damn that infernal machine! I can't see it!"

Kyle smirked at me. "The tracking device I slipped onto 88 should help."

I looked at him, impressed. "In that case, I shall follow you."

Kyle nodded, and we walked through many streets and alleyways.

"Is that droid an old friend of yours? You didn't seem too happy to see him."

Kyle snorted. "I've ran into him a couple of times. He's a piece of work, in every sense of the word. He wants to be human, and he's got the darker aspects down, but needs work on the other half."

We arrived at a door, which hissed open, revealing a hanger and the droid in question walking up the ramp of a Lambda shuttle.

"Leaving so soon?" Kyle called, as I shot the body-guards on either side of him.

The droid turned, and waved the disk tauntingly in the air. "I guess you will never see this again!" He called, then yelped as Kyle blasted off the arm holding the disk, which fell off the platform.

The ramp closed with the droid inside, lifted into the air, and zoomed away. It was replaced by a TIE fighter, which promptly exploded under a barrage of laser-fire.

It dropped below the platform, and was replaced by a ship that looked like a rusted bird.

The cockpit opened, and a woman smiled cheerfully down at them.

"Whenever I find you, you are always in some kind of trouble." She said in a smooth low-tuned voice. She was slight and pretty, with long brown hair tied into a ponytail.

"Jan Ors! What a pleasant surprise!" Kyle called.

"What's going on, and who is your friend?" She asked, looking at me curiously.

I bowed to her politely.

"I'll explain later. Right now I have to find a disk that fell into the lower levels. Meet me on the top deck!" Kyle replied.

Jan nodded, looking mystified, and flew away.

"Is she your Lady?" I asked, even more impressed.

Kyle looked sideways at me. "Not yet, so keep your mitts off her," he growled, and I held up my hands in surrender before joining him in his descent off of the landing pad.

REVAMP!