A/N: This is what I wrote for a challenge by "Corellian Run Radio" to do a biography or something for your character in The Old Republic MMO. Now, I already had four characters in the Republic faction and I want to play four in the Empire faction and well... this is what I came up with. Now, at the time, I totally misread the instructions which said "Not to exceed 500 words" and I read "to exceed 500 words" so I'll probably be disqualified, but I think this is fun. The hardcore book readers might remember that the double vowel is a throw back to Timothy Zahn and the "Heir to the Empire" trilogy regarding clones. Is it too obvious who the Cloaked figure is descended from?
Legacy of the Old Republic: Hope
Heavy footsteps thundered like a frantic hear beat through the damaged freighter's corridors.
'By the Force I may be too late, the galaxy depends on these children and I feel their life forces fading quickly- I must hurry.'
The cloaked figure rounded a corner quickly only to come upon the remains of the Mandalorian raiding party. He should have come to get them himself instead of trusting a hired freighter captain. It was a mistake that he wouldn't make again. It was a mistake that likely couldn't be repeated again. It was too late to search out more children with the unique genetic trait he'd been looking for. The galaxy is already teetering on the brink of war. It would soon happen, the only question was- would he be able to help heal the damage in time to prevent the galaxy from falling into darkness forever?
The three Mandalorians turned in unison, evidence of their social upbringing, and began to fire on the hooded figure. Before their blaster rifle barrels had even been raised, twin gold-coloured lightsabres ignited in the hooded figure's hands. The first shots fired from the armoured troopers hit nothing but the opposite wall as the cloaked figure seemed to disappear into the shadows of the flickering lights and moved towards them at an incredible speed.
"Commander! Alert the-unghh!" The first Mandalorian was cut down as his attention was briefly drawn from his target to his comm. The cloaked figure then spun to the left, under the barrel of the second trooper's shot and cut him in half. Rising up, he cut the blaster rifle of the third trooper in half, taking the Mandalorian's left arm off diagonally at mid-forearm where he'd been holding the stock of his gun.
Shutting off his lightsabres, the cloaked figure gestured with is right obsidian-coloured heavy gauntlet mimicking the invisible hand of the force lifting the injured trooper off the ground.
"Why did you attack this ship? Where are the children?" The words came out in a low rumble, but were spoken in haste- time was of the essence.
"Ack… Jedi scum… you have no idea what's coming… the children will never live to be your champions!" So the war had begun already. It was just being fought in shadow. The Captain was probably tortured until he talked.
The hooded figure did not hate the Mandalorian, in fact, he understood his view very well, but they were enemies now so without hate, and turning in the direction he sensed the children, the cloaked figure made a quick gesture with his wrist and the Mandalorian's neck snapped, killing him instantly. "My line never made very good Jedi…" were his departing words to the dead Mandalorian as the body fell to the deck with a thud.
Once again at a run, he soon found himself at the upper level entrance to the cargo bay. Three stories high and one hundred metres in length, the large space was littered with small crates which had been thrown about in the recent fighting. Coming to a stop on the balcony overlooking the loading area, the cloaked figure finally spotted the children. But he was too late. A group of Mandalorian troopers were standing guard several metres from where the children were grouped. Bodies of the freighter's crew and captain were strewn about as if they were simply evidence of their inability to stop the intruders.
The Mandalorians were not what had captured the cloaked figure's attention however. There was some… creature near the children. Wraith-like and steeped in the Dark side of the Force, it moved like a long-limbed cat with its long thin appendages and three-fingered clawed hands and feet at each end click-clacking against the metallic plating. It seemed to have moved from child to child, clawing each of their faces as it drained their life force.
Gathering his energy, the cloaked figure leapt from the balcony with purpose. Letting out a battle cry, he threw off his black cloak, revealing his heavy obsidian-coloured armour. Designed and built by him, it was woven with cortosis and numerous other unique technologies. The Mandalorians reacted with trained precision, but it was not enough, for the armoured intruder was angry and focused- and powerful. He didn't even light his lightsabres as he landed amongst the group who were rapidly trying to get firing angles in such close quarters.
He slammed a fist down into the deck plating and releasing the shockwave of telekinetic energy that shook the cargo bay causing numerous crates to be thrown about and creeks and groans to emit from the damaged ship. The obsidian-armoured warrior stood quickly igniting his lightsabres and began to cut down the Mandalorians who were thrown back by the force of his initial attack.
With the three nearest dead, he threw his right-hand lightsabre in an arc, killing the last three troopers as the Dark side creature let out a primal screech and leapt at him. As he brought his left lightsabre up to defend his vulnerable flank, his danger sense triggered and he leapt backwards in a flip over several crates to land on his feet. The creature was caught in mid-air by a falling piece of loader arm and crushed.
'Fortune favours the bold… and the descendants of an unusual Force user thankfully.'
With no more time to waste, he shut off his lightsabres and made his way to the children. There were eight children from different races and of different genders. There were four boys and four girls: a blue Twi'lek girl; a green-skinned Mirilan boy; a dark-haired human male; a red-haired human female; two red-skinned pure-blood Sith children, boy and girl; a Zabrak boy and a tiny dark haired, blue skinned Chiss girl. Each now bore the claw mark of the creature, its unnatural power forever burned into their genetics.
He quickly gathered the children up with the Force, extending his own life energy to encompass their fading life forms to try and keep them alive just a little longer and began to make his way back to the air lock to his ship.
Several days later in an unknown location…
Unfortunately, he'd been too late and he was unable to save the children. The Force had smiled upon him however as four were force sensitive. Little Lanya the Twi'lek was the first attacked by the creature but seeming the strongest of the children and she'd held out the longest. Her genetic template was still stable for the process indicating that the creature had not ruined his plans completely. She could be cloned- they all could- but they would still bare the three claw scar on the left side of their face even if cloned for it seemed mystically etched into their genes. Yet he could still fulfill his purpose. He would send four children- two boys and two girls- to the Republic and he would send the other four to the Empire. Their destiny was beyond his control now and he hoped they would eventually bridge the gap between the two extremes of philosophy to bring stability to the Galaxy that hadn't been known for some time.
Dane Jarrick mused to himself; the Force did indeed seem to work in mysterious ways. One simply had to let it happen instead of trying to control it or wait for its instruction.
'We are the shapers of our own destiny- fighting against the current or trying to interpret its motivations will always lead to chaos.'
Laanya completed her youngling tests faster than any child before her. She excelled in the telekinetic arts of the Jedi training and moved with the grace and stealth of a Vornskr, able to win the training competitions with seeming ease. Her only real competition was Luukus, a human boy with a similar mysterious past. She'd been found on a remote world by Master Belth Allusis as a baby. Luukus had been found at the steps of the Jedi Academy by a youngling Satele Shan who had been leaving with her master. They both bore similar three-line scars on the left side of their faces. Laanya and Luukus were the top students in their classes and had caught the eyes of several masters for specialized training…
He hadn't lived this long by being a complete idiot- except perhaps as a baby which earned him his scars, but who knew for sure? Not the spice runners who found him on Tatooine, at least. But 'Captain' Bruuce knew a sure thing when he saw one. His freighter could get the valuable supplies in and out of Ord Mantell with little trouble for the large Mirilan Smuggler. Perhaps there'd even be an attractive female or two he could take out for drinks as his cargo was being off loaded…
All her life she'd had to fight for everything she gained, beginning as a child found by a recon team on Alderaan and living camp-to-camp during the war. She understood what they fought for- they fought for honour and the Republic. She fought for the same reasons; she also fought to prevent any child from suffering in wartime. She had no memory of the three vertical scars marking her face, but vowed to try and prevent the like from happening to another child. She aced her training at the academy and had finally become a member of Havoc Squad in the Republic Army. Sergeant Jaayde had just gotten a post to Ord Mantell to help out operations on the embattled planet…
Discovered by an Imperial scouting party as a baby, the blue-skinned, yet small frame of Taania, agent of the Empire, burned her glowing red eyes into the shady transport captain trying to con her out of her credits. This was not her first rodeo; she was due for insertion onto Hutta to begin her first real assignment out of the Academy and did not have time for fools. Absently, she touched one of the scars running down the left side of her face, the result of an encounter she couldn't remember…
There were times when Vaaleria hated her pure blood heritage; killing for the sake of killing; wasting potential for the enjoyment of cruelty. The Sith could be such fools and most lacked any kind of honour- like whatever three-clawed creature had marked her as a child. The Emperor and the Dark Council were going to plunge the galaxy into an endless pit of darkness. There would be no rule; there would only be chaos. This was not what a true Sith should be. Despite being summoned to Korriban ahead of schedule, Vaaleria would bide her time…
A pure-blood Sith who had been 'raised' in servitude as a slave. The visible scar on his face the only one he could not account for during his youth. Joorkan had earned freedom and his place in the latest batch of initiates to the Sith Academy on Korriban. He had been better and stronger than the rest. He never forgot his enemies and he would crush any that got in his path to power. He did not care for politics or intrigue. He would simply play the game until he was truly free- the Force would set him free…
You didn't grow up among Mandalorians and not learn how to shoot a blaster. Vaanar could shoot, hunt and generally just kick-ass when needed. His 'foster parents' had taught him well. But he didn't have their cause; he wasn't born to it like they were, he was just a random homeless baby, found, taken in and trained to be the best of the best- they had always told him it was his three-clawed scar on the left side of his face that kept them from leaving him to his fate as a child. He severed his ties to the Mandalorians to find his own glory and erased all traces of what little past he had before becoming a Merc. This competition on Hutta would show the galaxy he was the best- it was time to sharpen his horns…
And so the galaxy would be changed forever…