Star Wars

You Can't Go Home Again

The Empire has fallen, and the NEW REPUBLIC has restored freedom to the galaxy. Luke Skywalker has relit the fire of the Force and leads the NEW JEDI ORDER in defending the young republic.

Hope for the future blossoms as the children of Han and Leia, JAINA, JACEN, AND ANAKIN, Jedi Knights, begin to forge their own path.

But amidst this new era of peace, an unknown darkness looms, watching the stars as one watches prey, waiting for its moment to strike.

Chapter 1

Like a sea, the galaxy ebbs and flows, and events that, in their happening, seem to be cataclysmic miracles, eventually become nothing more than tales with which to bore grandchildren and satisfy historians. Common is it for grandparents to be asked "where were you?" or "what were you doing?". What did you do the day after? What did you think of while you watched everything you'd ever known crumble away?

Rarely, however, is it asked- and even more rarely remembered- where one was before. What were you thinking of an hour before? Whom did you speak to the week prior?

What were you doing, the day before the world ended?

The first pale rays of sunlight found ways their through the maze of starscappers that made the planet of Coruscant, bouncing from tower to tower, glinting off the transparisteel of starships and slowly meandering into the impenetrable darkness of the underworld. Beautiful and meaningless to a world that never slept. Eventually the light found its way into the windows of one of the capital worlds more luxurious apartment buildings. In one suite, a man with tousled brown hair lay tangled in the sheets of his bed, attempting to soak in the last wonderful moments of sleep and blissfully unaware of the woman beside him as she laid a light kiss on the man's jaw. She placed another on his chest, continuing down until she disappeared beneath the sheets. The man, eyes still heavy-lidded gave a small grunt of pleasure. His lips parted, forming a name.

"Tenel Ka..." The woman froze.

The man stirred- that sounded wrong somehow. Scattered images of what must've been the night before came to him, and the man's eyes popped open in understanding

The woman was not Tenel Ka.

Oh boy.

Jacen Solo dared to peel up the bed sheets and look.

"Who the hell are you?" The slap was hard, fast, and heard through the entire apartment. The woman leapt from the bed, breath sharp and fast as she gathered her clothes, paying no attention to Jacen's sympathetic eyes. He could've stopped the slap- but calling a girl the wrong name and then forgetting hers was pushing it, even for him. The young Jedi watched the woman, tried to fully remember both her name and the events that led her to his room. It wasn't strange- waking up with a woman in his bed- but usually he remembered the name, even when they were redheads. Usually. Then there was the small caveat that the one and only Tenel Ka Djo was half a galaxy away, a queen, and had effectively left the Jedi Order. While it was true he himself hadn't exactly been charging around waving a lightsaber, at least he was still listed as available. Not that there were many missions to be available for, these days.

Jacen studied the girl; watching streams of wetness make their way down her face. He barely stopped a sigh. His reputation should've preceded him- he'd been doing this kind of thing for two years now: the woman should've known not to expect to be flown off into the stars by the Jedi son of war heroes. It wasn't as though he wanted to hurt anyone, it was just... what was he supposed to do? The galaxy was more at peace than it had been in about 70 years, so really, what could he do but have a little fun, sow his wild oats? A small part of him answered, take his X-Wing and fly to Hapes, to Tenel Ka, but then he wouldn't be able to anything there either, except maybe become a concubine. And even if it did become...more, would he really be anything but a tool to prove unity with the New Republic and make the Queen's heirs powerful?

Jacen heard the click of the woman's boots as she left the room.

"I'm sorry!" he called half-heartedly. His reward was a string of choice Huttese curses that'd make his father blush. The front door hissed open and closed as Jacen noticed a large green salamander crawling on the floor. Jacen stared at it a moment and pushed some his hair aside. No Dark Jedi, no bounty hunters, and still a Solo couldn't have a normal day.

The Jedi Master Ikrit lay still in the hangar bay of the Jedi Temple on Yavin 4, his small, white-furred, Kushiban body curled against a crate of cargo. He let himself flow into the ebb of the Force that echoed through the hangar. Like the temple, it had a sort of echo about it; one that spoke of great beings and the beginnings of great change. The old building had seen much over the years, and now saw a group of young children crowded around an X-Wing. The attention of the students was on a tall young man walking around the fighter, pointing out the myriad parts of the machine. He was followed by a small blonde girl, her bare feet padding silently on the cool stone floor. Ikrit smiled- Anakin Solo and Tahiri Veila had grown much in the seven years he'd known them. The younglings giggled as Anakin pointed out a component and began to relate the story of one of his father's misadventures during the war against Palpatine. When Anakin had become Jedi Knight and decided to stay at Yavin to teach, many- including Ikrit- had been surprised, expecting him to charge through the galaxy striking down evil. But now, it was obvious- the children probably didn't even realize they were learning. This was what they were meant for. So very unlike himself. Unlike Marcus. The Master closed his eyes and curled closer to the crate, suddenly too old and too tired to fight the memories.

Marcus Duralieus hadn't been particularly strong in the Force. He hadn't been brilliant with a lightsaber, or diplomacy, or philosophy. But what he had been was eager. He had wanted to be 'the best Jedi there ever was', make his family proud, be a hero. And when Ikirt had met him as a teen on Alderann, the Jedi had seen something in him that could make him great. And so the master had an apprentice.

Five years they were together, charging about the Republic, cutting down whomever the Senate said was evil. Their relationship hadn't been the fairytale of brotherly and parental love Master Skywalker fed to the students- Ikrit told Marcus what he couldn't do, what he could do, and when- and if Marcus didn't follow it, well, no harm to Ikrit, the great Master who'd single-handedly stopped a 1,000 year civil war.

Marcus lasted five years before he turned, having let Sith teachings seduce him into the belief that he was perfect, that Ikirt and all Jedi were just holding him back because they were jealous, because they wanted to keep him weak. And exactly like an aspiring Dark Lord, he had wanted to take over the galaxy, crush the weak, and destroy all Jedi; all starting with his 'badgering fool of a Master'. Ikirt didn't think Marcus ever realized he had never stood a chance, even as the green blade of his former Master weapon sank into his chest. He hadn't burned the body, leaving it where it fell in the ruins of a Sith academy on Korriban. He hadn't even really felt that bad- Jedi turned to the Dark Side all the time, sometimes you could bring them back, sometimes you couldn't. Marcus had failed, not himself; Marcus had been the weak link, not himself. It wasn't until he had seen the look on the faces of Marcus' family as he told them the story that he had understood what he had done. His words had been so calm, so controlled- so cold, that one would've thought him a mere messenger, and not the man with whom the boy had lived the last grueling years of his life.

Not much time passed before Ikirt had left...everything- the Jedi, the Republic, the Force; all because of a vision in the guise of his apprentice, telling him to 'wait for the children'. That he had to save them, or all would be lost. 400 years he'd waited in a small cave on this moon, all for a boy and his little blonde friend he now watched teaching more children. Ikrit sighed. Such was the Force.

On the manufacturing world of Kuat, light poured out from the windows of a large, prosperous cantina in the bustling capital city. It had long been a favorite haunt of the military, the reputation held by the raucous laughter and caustic language that filtered into the night.

Inside sat Lt. Jaina "Sticks" Solo at a sabaac table, surrounded by a dozen or so patrons. With a game face to make her father proud, she stared confidently at her opponent, a Major who happened to lead Jaina's squadron, and was affectionately known as Crashdown. He spoke.

"I'm telling you, you can't win, Solo, and no Jedi trick can save you." Taking another card, Jaina merely smiled. She glanced first at her cards, then at her two partners who sat on either side of her. For reasons of their own, Zekk and Lowbacca had joined her in signing up two years before, and now shared her rank and squadron. The three of them had really become yet another one of the Jedi duos and trios forming these days, usually between couples or siblings. Jaina took a sip from her strong Correlian ale while Crashdown smugly studied his hand, again. Many wondered why she hadn't teamed up with her brothers, but had they been her, it would've been painfully obvious. When not pining over Tenel Ka, Jacen spent most of his time chasing redheaded floozies with exceedingly agonizing jokes. Anakin, on the other hand, meditated on the galactic ramifications of combing his hair while failing miserably to hide his feelings for Tahiri, except from Tahiri herself. Zekk and Lowie though, they knew when to let go and enjoy the fact there weren't any Shadow Academies or Diversity Alliances running around wreaking havoc.

She picked up another card before looking to her left, at Zekk, who smiled toward the owner of a bright red hand running through his hair- a hand that belonged to a Twi'lek dancer who thought as much of her charm as to sit in a Jedi's lap. Jaina did her best to push aside the urge to throw the woman out of an airlock. Even if Zekk had seemed interested- and he hadn't- she herself wasn't exactly prime girlfriend material at the moment.

The year before, a fresh-from-training Ensign Solo had been sent to an inter-government cooperation summit, and there had met one Major Jag Fel of the Chiss. The romance had begun fast and fiery, and ended the same way too, leaving Jaina with nothing but bitter memories and a week-long pregnancy scare. Not exactly chomping at the bit for another go... Still, he could pick someone with just a little bit more class.

"Ready to pay, Solo?" Crashdown asked. Jaina again merely smiled and responded.

"We'll see." His cards were down. Game face breaking into a smile, Jaina laid her own on the table, and the smile became an infamous lopsided grin at the sound of Crashdown's agonized groan and the jeers from the crowd.

"You cheated!" cried the Major.

"Me? Never! Sir." The squadron leader could only sigh and leave for another drink. Jaina made eye contact with Zekk, thanking him in the Force. It wasn't a lie- she wasn't cheating. From a certain point of view.

Open the right door on Courascant, and one can find anything. And so was the case with a human male who stood comfortably upon the lift that took him through the hundreds of floors that made up the Galactic Senate.

The man went by the name of Paelback Tonns, and appeared to be in his fifties, with neatly cropped black hair just beginning to show gray. Tall and well-muscled, his attire was simple, easily avoiding notice among the normal flamboyancy of the Senate. Paelback's lips, though, were twisted, as if he were sniffing something foul.

The lift stopped, Tonns stepping off and marveling at the ease with which he traversed the governmental heart of the New Republic. Journey, Tonns entered the suite of the Senator of Kuat. The telbun secretary saw him, and waved the familiar yet mysterious visitor into the Senator's office with the air of annoyed familiarity. Paelback smiled- the man probably thought he was a lover or some such nonsense.

As it had always been, the office of Viqi Shesh was a study in decadence and abuse of power, its walls, paintings, and statues probably costing enough to feed the capital world's poor for a year. Rather typical of a Senator.
Paelback's cold eyes fell upon the woman sitting behind the desk, her attire on the verge of disgusting in its utter lack of function.

"Welcome, Mr. Tonns, a pleasure to see you, as always." Shesh said and gave a pathetically insincere smile. Paelback smiled himself before retorting in an acid voice.

"Save the pleasantries, Shesh, you why I'm here. Though, I do appreciate the...respect." The smile became real as he watched her try to hide her hatred beneath of veneer of detachment- for how could a Kuati noble ever be do dependent on someone who was a common messenger to a greater power?

"That depends," Shesh said. Still smiling, Paelback pulled a small datapad from a coat pocket and pressed his thumb to the device's screen. A few meters across, Sheesh watched her own computer, studying her account and its shiny new 500 million credits. Tonns forced himself not to sneer at how easily this woman had been and was used. Five years before, Shesh had awoken to find a new 50 million credit donation to her re-election campaign, the only real identification being the name 'Tonns'. Two days later, Paelback had made an appointment and offered another 50 million. The price? The sensor schematics used by the New Republic. He had been so worried then, that Shesh would either get cold feet or grow some loyalty- and then it would've all gone to hell. But now, for ten times the price she'd sold her soul, and Sheesh slid a datapad across the desk, its contents being the deployment schedules for the entire New Republic Defense Force. There was only word to describe the tiny abomination.

Victory.

Paelback looked at Sheesh, noticing with pleasure that the woman was now content to look at anything but him.

"Don't fret, my dear," he began, "It's obvious what is about to happen. When it's over, though, your place in it will not be forgotten. You, and your people, will be greatly rewarded." The traitor gave no reaction as Tonns stood and made his way to the door before speaking in a voice that was quiet, strained, broken.

"Tell me, Paelback- what are you?" Tonns turned back to the desk, his smile mocking.

"Why should I answer that?"

"I want to know who I sold the Republic to. Imperial? Chiss?" Paelback let his smile become real once more at the desperation, the begging in the traitor's voice.

"I'm something you can't imagine."

As always, feedback is greatly appreciated.