Hey guys, so thank you for giving this story a chance! I'm new to the whole SW universe -well, not really. I just don't know terminology. BUT, i hope thats ok. Please tell me about any little quirks that you notice, because I usually don't reread these before I post them. If you ever come back and notice a chapter is slightly different, don't worry, because I do that quite often. :) So I think that's it. I hope you enjoy, and thanks again for clicking on my story! -Love from Jay
Sigh. I don't own any of this. George Lucas does. I'm just grateful that I can play around with the Star Wars Universe. :D
Without further ado, here goes...
Everyone knew of the start of the Clone Wars.
Everyone knew of what occurred on the planet of Geonosis, and of the hundreds of thousands of clone troopers that arrived to take over for the jedi.
Even in the Outer Rim, they knew the story.
But who would've thought, that just a few months after the war started, the fighting would reach the planet of Serias in the Outer Rim?
Just who?
Jhar Mindoun looked up at the stars with eyes that seemed a thousand years old. His grip on his staff tightened, pulling his tanned and wrinkled skin taught. He sighed -a long drawn out sigh- before lowering his head and turning away from the cosmos.
Just a few kilometers away, Keetho was watching the same exact stars. Except, he wasn't paying attention to the pictures and stories that the stars were illustrating. Instead, he was watching the tiny pinpricks of red and blue lights that were littering the night sky. He knew what those lights were, anyone whose listened to the storyteller talk about the raging war that was happening in the center of the galaxy knew what those lights were; Republican starfighters, sent out to destroy the Separatists that were slowly invading their planet.
Keetho knew that the war was devastating, that right now hundreds of living are being lost, but still, he couldn't help from watching the dazzling light show that was happening before his eyes.
His attention was drawn to one pinprick in particular -a glowing green orb that was slowly growing in size. The twelve year old boy sat up from his position on the roof. Squinting, he watched the light grow larger, and eventually become tainted with red.
It flickered, the green disappearing and the red taking over, before the green re-illuminated just moments later.
Thoughts swirled in the back of Keetho's mind. He new something was wrong. The green light continued to swell, and the young boy was beginning to make out the outline of a Republican ship.
The ship glowed, the outside catching fire as it passed into the atmosphere. Keetho's nerves hit him full shock as he realized what was happening. He scrambled from his spot on the rooftop and quickly descended down the ladder to the awaiting ground. Catching himself, he looked back up at the stars. He watched the hurtling ship as it soared over head, skimmed over treetops, and disappeared out of his line of view.
Keetho sprinted as fast as he could through the surrounding forrest. His thoughts were far away, still fuzzy and in a haze; adrenaline is what pushed him onward, and his curiosity on top of that.
The ground gave an inconceivable shudder as the ship impacted the ground. The sound of metal making contact with dirt reverberated through the woods, bouncing off the tall trees and ringing in Keetho's ears. The smell of smoke and oil quickly followed next, and as the boy breathed it in, he felt it coating his tongue and the back of his throat.
He stopped as he approached the crash site, an area that spanned for nearly sixty meters. The only source of light were the flickering lights and sparks from the ship, along with the flames licking up the left wing. The Republican gunship appeared to still be in one piece though, despite what Keetho had predicted. Smoke billowed from the left wing and the engine, clouding the open space in a grey fog. Keetho moved forward slowly.
His senses finally caught up to him, and now they were invading his brain and taking over every thought: He was twelve for peat's sake. What could he possibly do?
A scream pulled him out of his self doubts. The loud, tortured scream of a young girl.
Keetho ignored the little figure on his shoulder that was shouting for him to abandon this suicide mission, and instead ran towards the smoking and burning ship.
The door that was closest to him was battered, leaving a slight gap between the frame and the actually door. He slid his hand into it, feeling for a lever to open the door further. When he finally made contact with the latch, he pulled, and the rest of metal slid back with a loud screech.
More smoke erupted from the opening, momentarily blinding him. Keetho gave a shuddering cough, then jumped into the crashed ship.
He shouldn't have done it, he just knew it. This plan was foolhardy and stupid, and he should have stayed at home instead of going on this unnecessary suicide mission. Keetho pulled his scarf up around hid nose and mouth, then walked blindly through the main hangar.
"Hello?" He shouted. His voice was shrill and scared, but the young boy continued on. "Is anyone here?"
He stumbled over something: A blaster. It went off, a blue streak shooting into the ceiling of the ship. Another scream was heard, short and startled.
Keetho jumped up, ran past the blaster, past the multitude of back packs, and past the bodies he had to force himself to look away from. He hobbled through another door into the pilot's area. The pilot clone was hanging limp over the controls, his helmet array and his arm bent at an awkward angle. Fire crackled from the control panel, leaping up and swallowing part of the body. Keetho swallowed back bile before looking around the room. He could've sworn he heard the scream from in here.
With a closer look, Keetho realized that a massive figure was sprawled in the passenger seat. He moved closer, blinking away the smoke that hung over his eyelashes and threatened to blind him. The figure moved, pulling a scarred hand to cover his face.
"Colette?" he asked gruffly.
"N-No." Keetho stuttered.
An off noise sounded behind him; a pop-hiss that couldn't have come from any of the ship's machines. He turned, hands flying up in defense as the green blade of a lightsaber flashed down at him.
"I'm not going to hurt you!" He shouted, head turned with arms in front of him. He waited, and when the hot blade never came, he risked a glance.
"Who are you?" asked the figure. Keetho's attention was caught, and he dropped his arms slightly at the feminine voice.
"I'm Keetho." He said, scarf muffling his voice. As his hands lowered even more, he realized that the figure was a girl, possibly no older than him. He tried to lick his lips, cracked and dried from the smoke and fire, before speaking again. "Who are you?"
The girl didn't reply, but the bright blade disappeared in a hiss, and the she pushed past him to the man in the chair.
"You can't stay here." Keetho said, suddenly rising up to his full height as he remembered why he was there in the first place. "This thing's gonna blow."
"I'm not leaving him." She snapped back in a tone that was just as dignified.
Keetho pushed away the sudden thoughts about how girls could be so difficult, and instead nodded, taking one of the man's arms. If he was going to help her, he'd have to help him.
"Can you get that door open?" Keetho asked, nodding his head at the barred exit.
The girl followed his gaze over her shoulder and gave a curt nod.
Her lightsaber ignited again, and with a quick thrust it was through the thick metal wall, red-hot metal dripping down from the cut she was creating. She traced along the doorframe, using all her weight to get the laser sword to move. Waving her hand in front of her, the metal cutout fell to the ground with a crash, leaving a gaping, black hole in it's wake.
The girl ran back to Keetho's side and helped move the man out of the wreckage, which took all their strength on both parts. They slumped just a few feet into safety, gasping for gulps of clean air. Keetho pulled the scarf down from his face and took deep breaths as he tried to clear out his lungs. The girl quickly kneeled down at the man's side.
"Master." She whispered. Keetho could trace just a hint of a whimper, something unfit for someone of a jedi status. "You're going to be ok." She continued. "We're going to find help."
The man's hand moved so he could stroke a tear stained cheek with the back of his palm.
"Colette," he mumbled. A smile played at the corners of his mouth, but his strength faded before he could smile fully, and it turned into a pained grimace.
Colette held her hand over the bleeding wound on the man's chest. Keetho's eyes followed her hand to the abrasion, taking in what he didn't see earlier. He felt his stomach flip over. He was gone in an instant, vomiting his dinner into the leaves behind a tree.
If they were in another situation, Colette would have rolled her eyes at the petty boy's reaction. But she wasn't. She was with her dying master.
"Be strong, youngling." He said.
Colette's hand flitted over the Jedi Knight's brown-black hair, pushing it back off his sweaty forehead.
Dark green eyes momentarily closed.
"It's too late, youngling." He said. His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. He gulped, another pained expression passing over his face. His hands clenched underneath his dark brown robes.
"No, no it's not." Colette said.
The man attempted another smile, but his eyes were dim. "Take this."
The scarred hand moved over to his utility belt, and he detached his lightsabor and stuffed it into the girl's hands. She looked down at it, shaking her head and pushing it back.
"No, no, Master…"
From behind the tree, Keetho placed one hand on the bark to keep his balance, the other over his stomach. His eyes were squeezed tight, and he was barely registering what was happening between the two survivors. What did catch his attention, though, was a low, almost inaudible humming. Keetho looked up from his spot where he was bent over. It sounded like a speeder.
Separatists.
"We need to go." He said quickly, his voice raspy. He tried again. "We need to go." He said louder, glancing over at the pair.
Colette glared up at him from her place next to the man. He brown eyes flashed angrily, and Keetho winced, his eyes drifting over to scan the surrounding woods.
"Go." The man said, drawing Colette's attention back to him. "Be strong, youngling." he repeated. "Don't forget who you are."
Colette shook her head no again.
"Go." Her master said more urgently.
The girl hesitated for a moment. Nodding slowly, she jumped up and attached the lightsabor to her belt next to her own. She looked around, her eyes narrowed in concentration. Those were speeders. Speeders meant help.
When the girl didn't move right away, Keetho ran over to her side and grabbed her hand. She protested, pulling away.
"They can help!" She shouted.
"No... no." Keetho replied. His voice was thick. "They can't. They're Separatists."
He pulled her into the woods, despite more protests, away from the crash site, and ducked behind some of the foliage. Colette dropped to her knees beside him, her mouth a thin line as her eyes narrowed at what was happening before them.
Four Speeders had appeared just after they'd found cover. Each of them were carrying two droids on their backs, and their headlights were illuminating the crash site. The droids climbed off, readying the blasters in their hands in the process. They formed a semicircle around the dying man, but made no move to shoot.
Then a fifth Speeder appeared.
The man on that speeder looked to be in his mid-forties. His hair was graying, but flecks of blonde still showed through along his short beard and by his temples. A scar ran its way from his left cheek down to his jaw, and slightly further down his neck until it was hidden by the collar of his dark blue tunic. He smiled, a cruel, bloodcurdling sneer, and strode up to the side of the fallen Jedi.
"I thought you'd never show, Kib." He said. He prodded the jedi in the side with the toe of his boot. The man grunted, his hands flailing to his abdomen.
"It's a pity you're in this condition. I would've liked to kill you from the start, instead of picking up from when you're already half-dead." The smile disappeared, now replaced with a look of contemplation. "Oh well, I guess I should be grateful for what I got." He shrugged, then grabbed a blaster from one of the droids.
Colette looked away at the last minute, averting her eyes and leaning into the boy's shoulder next to her. He turned away too, and tried to block out the noise of the blaster being fired.
I hope that was an ok start. :)