A/N After mulling over it for an extremely long time I've decided that this story needed a retooling, and well, hopefully this is better than it was before. To any still with me, thank you, and to those just joining on, hopefully I've done well. Anyway, read on!
Nar Shaddaa had a way of bringing in the strange and secret of the galaxy. Here one could get lost and hide among the teeming crowds and shady alleys. The Force ebbed and flowed as life reached its greatest heights and lows, with the lows sometimes ending with an unfortunate body with a blaster wound being found in the streets or cantinas. This was no place for an innocent shmuck trying to make his way in the galaxy, but some people know how to navigate the underworld. Some people have the connections, the talent, and the starship to make their way in the dangerous galaxy.
Cantinas were the hubs and the meeting places of these types of individuals. Whether they were looking for a job, resting after a job, or taking a break during a job, this was the place entrepreneurial individuals could be found. Of course that was just a nice way of saying "smuggler" "cutthroat," or "bounty hunter", but presentation is everything in the underworld. In one cantina, a half-arkanian-offshoot, half-human hybrid, not even twenty years of age, finished a glass of what he hoped was water. He was adorned in a faded blue coat, over what looked to be basic light combat armor that had multiple places where it had been patched up and put back together with spit and glue. His head was framed by light white hair which blended with his nearly snow colored skin, if anyone took a look at him they would probably suspect only the arkanian blood in his veins.
Two rodians fingered their sets of cards warily as they did there best to maintain the facade of normality. In their hands beneath the table it wasn't cards, but blaster pistols ready to shoot the near-human as soon as he tried to leave the establishment. Across the way from them a pair of male twi'leks stood near the other entrance with hands resting on very threatening verpine rippers. On their outfits it was plain to see the emblem of the Black Sun, so either someone in the Suns had a hit on him or someone hired off some of their mercenaries to fulfill a grudge. The second was preferable.
"Guess Uncle Gryph was right, I can't keep myself out of trouble..." The figure mumbled as he paid for his beverage and turned to face his assailants.
Quicker than humanly possible, the hybrid drew a customized Mandalorian blaster and fired two shots at the rodians, killing them instantly. As soon as the twi'leks tried to draw and fire he rushed them, pulling out a cylindrical object that ignited and immediately bore a hole through a would-be bounty hunter. The man's partner, barely registering the shock of seeing his coworker impaled, was then dispatched by a stab from a small vibroknife to the heart as the stranger moved with speed and skill not found in the ranks of the criminal lowlife. With his assailants taken care of, the near-human gave the barkeep a 50 credit chip for "the mess" before walking out the exit.
"Slyysk told me there would be days like this,' thought the boy, 'Can't I find one place to get a good drink and some peace?'
As he stumbled down the walkways and streets the he realized that that was probably an impossibility. For he was Danson Carrick, and the Force and the galaxy in general would not leave him or his family alone. His father's friend, affectionately know as "Uncle Gryph" had always told him stories of his parent's exploits and them getting into trouble. Whether it was from his father's suborn altruism, the demons of his mother, or just some horrific comedy of the Force, Danson could never quite piece it together. Zayne and Jarael Carrick had tried to live a peaceful life with their two young sons after the Mandalorian War and those that followed, but something apparently conspired to keep that from becoming a reality.
He'd only been a small child when they'd left, leaving him and his older brother Lucien in the caring hands of one of the most powerful crime bosses in the galaxy. At that time Danson's parents said it would only be a galactic month or so at most before they were back. That was over a decade ago and still nothing from them. Uncle Gryph had tried everything in his power to find a lead, find something, but nothing... It was just like they vanished from the galaxy. In the meantime Danson had found himself under the sole care of Gryph after his brother left and went to find his own way in the galaxy. That left Danson to work for Gryph. It was hard working, but fulfilling none the less. He'd learned to fly a starship like an ace to outspeed blockades, shoot fast and first to stay alive, and above all else, try and find some scattered ways to continue his Jedi training.
It started small with his father attempts when Danson was a child, but after Zayne's departure Danson's training in lightsaber combat and the Force was like his armored jacket, stitched together with whatever was available. Going to an actual Jedi Master was out of the question, no Jedi of the Order would approve of the lifestyle he led or the company he kept. Other force-sensitive orders were often very insular or similarly rigid in their ways so those were out. There also wasn't really a manual for learning about the Force, if there was he would buy it faster than the jury-rigged engines on ship could push. But in his mind what he had was even better. An old treasure left behind by his father, and it was something that many in the galaxy would likely kill to get their hands on.
Other than what he got from his "inheritance" Danson's training could be described as unorthodox at best, with his lightsaber skills becoming a mixture of Form IV Ataru, and Form II Makashi, mixed with dirty fighting learned when having to fight his way through deals gone bad. Not every situation was going to be solved by a lightsaber duel, sometimes you needed a blaster bolt in the right place or a grenade rolled across a floor. Before that even, his mother had been tutoring him on how to defend himself in case someone ever came after the Carricks. That was probably one of the reasons that Gryph sent him on something this personal, Danson was both one of their best pilots and one of their best fighters in the business.
This package he was set to pickup was supposedly something Gryph wanted personally, he didn't say why. Only that it was extremely important and that it would be best if it was done quickly. Quickly, even when there was a Black Sun blockade of the planet as part of their ongoing feud with the Hutt Cartels. Getting on the planet was simple enough, but he only had a set of codes for an entry, not an exit. It was going to be fun trying to find a way to outfight or out speed the Black Sun ships in an ageing Dynamic Class freighter, but that issue could wait, for now he had to pick up the cargo and get it to his ship. "One insurmountable challenge at a time" Gryph once told him, "One insurmountable challenge at a time."
Citadel station was many things for many species, a pit stop for some, a home or hope for others, but to Vaner Shan it was the most boring place on the face of the galaxy. Ships came and went, faces busy on work or pleasure, all running all busy, all like a fast flowing river that never ended but never twisted or turned in any interesting way. Vaner Shan, son of Revan and Bastila Shan couldn't help but think there was something else better he could be doing as he leaned over a ,balcony over looking one of the busy promenade plazas. The 19 year old heir of Revan could see hundreds of sentients of hundreds of different species going about their business. It was a sight that used to fascinate him, but now it just seemed like it was all one big blur together, the Force
"Observation: Young Master, it appears you are unhappy with your current situation."
"Query: Should we kill something to cheer ourselves up?"
HK-47 was the greatest killing machine ever conceived or built, but he was lousy at making someone feel better.
Vaner wished he could have been on Dantooine with Juhani or Kashyyyk with Jolee, but Carth's Onasi's decision regarding his ward was final. He could only train with the two Jedi that he knew personally for a little less than half every galactic year. It also bothered him to no end that his guardian choose to bar him from studying at the temple on Coruscant with the reformed council as well. It wasn't too bad though, as Carth had allowed him use of the extensive library of knowledge contained in the archives of the former temple of Atris. After the defeat of the corrupted Jedi master, the woman who despised the Jedi Exile left to seek redemption in places unknown, but she had left behind her archives on the Force, and from these texts Vaner studied as often as he could.
While there were holocrons in the vast temple that Atris once shared with her handmaidens, the mysterious Jedi Master had sealed them behind several layers of similar to the ones guarding the Jedi Archives on Coruscant. As such the powerful artifacts were unavailable to anyone, least of all Vaner. Yet his power only seemed to grow during those times he was able to train in the Force. With his parent's old comrades he studied as any Padawan would have, and under their tutelage he studied lightsaber combat until it was like clockwork. Still for now, he had to try and control the omnicidal tendencies of his father's droid.
"No HK, I think that would just make the Admiral upset. And land us in prison on a penal colony."
"Supplication: Young Master even if we did find ourselves in an unfortunate set of circumstances we would easily be able to slaughter whatever force sent against us."
Vaner tossed a small display pebble into a nearby fountain before he responded to the Hunter Killer droid.
"Well, what if that force sent against us is a Republic Task Fleet? Still think we can handle it?"
"Clarification: Only with the support of the whiny meatbag, which I'm sure will come, as he seems to place a great deal of worth towards his promise to my master to protect you."
"Supplication: Though I feel he has gone about it entirely wrong, as he has not given you nearly the ample amount of chances to find the joy in exterminating other meatbags."
"Somehow I don't see that becoming a reality anytime soon." Vander deadpanned while HK simply made something like a sigh.
"Rumination: At least the dry wit of my master is passed down through his progeny, and not the sufficiently dull thought process of his mate."
It was true, Vaner Shan was his father's son. Looking at old holograms of his father Vaner felt like he was looking at a mirror. Like the Revanchist in his prime Vaner had a long sharp face that was framed by brown hair further punctuated by brown eyes. While unlike his father Vaner adorned himself with attire similar to what his godfather Carth Onasi once wore, an orange military jacket and brown trousers combined with
Looking at old holos of his mother and father, Vaner couldn't help but feel sad that they weren't around to be his parents. While Carth and the rest of his parent's old crew did their best, it still wasn't the same, it couldn't possibly be the same. He saw how said his parent's absence made his honorary aunts and uncles as well, about 20 galactic years ago Revan and Bastila Shan left for what they said was going to be a short mission they would not disclose the details about, and they never came back. Even with all the power and influence wielded by a Republic Admiral, a ruler of a planet, a shipping tycoon, two Jedi Masters, and the Mandalore himself, none of them could find a trace of their friends.
It was something that always left Vaner with questions. What was out there that caused his parents to leave, was one question. However, in the young human's mind it was certain that t it must of been very terrible and powerful to keep captive two of the most powerful Jedi in the galaxy. As Vaner continued to muse it was his droid that again brought him out of daydreaming.
"Reminder: Was it not a priority for my Young Master to see the whiny meatbag? I recall that an hour ago he asked for your presence before you decided to gaze off into the crowd of meatbags without killing any of them."
"Addendum: While it is commonplace for me to ignore the whiny meatbag, perhaps you should not be so eager."
"I thought you didn't have a high opinion of Uncle Carth HK?" Vaner said, bemused at his droid's reminding about the request, when he had completely forgotten.
"Supplication: When your father programed me, hypocrisy, especially humorous hypocrisy, was fully implemented upon my activation."
"Well that's fun."
Sighing as he left his perch above the promenade, Vaner decided that Carth had asked to see him earlier. Stepping on the cold metal ground, Vaner made his way to his speeder that would take him to the administration module of Citadel Station. Following, faithful as always, was HK who sat down in the passenger seat of the rather small four person speeder. The speeder lifted off from its small platform, to find itself in the rush of traffic as thousands of similar vehicles filled the airspace that made up the rapid transit of Citadel Station. Everything from computers in personal speeders, cargo haulers for the still ongoing rebuilding of Telos, to military ships of the Telos Security Force that had been significantly upgraded since the Sith attack almost two decades ago. It showed the most at the new Office of Administration, where Republic Grand Admiral Carth Onasi made his headquarters for which he could oversee the restoration of his home planet. In front of the speeder bay were about about a dozen highly trained and armed TSF soldiers, and they had two powerful twin turbo laser cannons to deter any space bound incursions. A separate shield generator, life support system, armory, and barracks made the place a self contained fortress.
Vaner quickly transmitted his access code to prevent being blasted out into a vacuum, and parked his speed in the bay next to the rest of the TSF vehicles. As soon as he stepped out he was greeted by the sight of the middle-aged rodian chief of security Captain Leelo Rollula. With what Vaner knew was a look of disapproval, the green skinned captain muttered something under his breath in hunteneese before talking in basic to Vaner.
"Come on Vaner! I thought you would know better by now to keep the boss waiting! I should put you in the TSF, that would be a chance to whip discipline into ya." Rollula admonished as Vaner stepped along with HK, who pointed his custom sniper rifle at the Rodian.
"Cautionary: I would not recommend speaking to the young master that way, unless you would like me to sear through your skin with blaster fire. On further analysis, go right along, I relish an opportunity."
Unintimidated by the most advanced killing machine in the galaxy, perhaps by virtue of bravery, foolishness, or knowing Vaner's so long and HK's loyalty to him, the Captain responded curtly.
"You try that droid, and you'll end up scrap metal before you can say Tatooine, but in any case, Vaner, the Admiral is still waiting for you, I'd get to it."
"I'm there before you know it." Vaner replied as he stepped through the hangar bay to enter a narrow corridor. Sparring a few hellos and waves for familiar TSF officers, Vaner eventually made his way to the rather spartan office of the most decorated soldier the Republic had.
Despite his high rank and position, Admiral Onasi still felt like he was a soldier rather than an administrator. Yet times of peace called for a different man than a time of war, and Carth had proven to be an able and willing administrator that helped the Telos Project move forward. As he watched his godson and that infernal droid step into the room, Carth was reminded of one reason his once brown hair was going grey.
"So, you're about as punctual as always." Carth opened up, with a small grimace on his face that was becoming familiar these days.
"I was busy..." Vaner mumbled just under his breath,
"Extrapolation: Whiny meatbag, it appears your ward has been long suffering from the meatbag alfcation (one of many that makes me happy not to be a meatbag) called, "Extreme boredom."
"Still, if I ask for him, I would think he would know better than to ignore me."
"I'm sorry, I was late," Vaner responded earnestly as he sat down on a nearby chair. "What exactly did you call me for?"
"Something you might be interested in." Carth said as he tapped a few buttons on his desk to reveal a holo image of an odd coffin looking contraption.
"It's called the Jebble Box, and intel suggests that it contains old sith technology that could be invaluable to republic research teams."
"I think I heard about this thing once, it's been sought after by collectors for years, and there's been a huge competition in the underworld to find it."
"Right, the thing has been moving from private collection to collection, but Republic Intel says now it's currently being moved from a warehouse on Nar Shaddaa to the collection of Marn Hierogryph."
"The CEO of the Little Bivoli's and the Goodvalor restaurants?" Vaner asked skeptically.
"Also rumored to be one of the biggest crime bosses this side of the Exchange. What's important is that we can seize that shipment before it reaches him."
"We're in the business of snatching goods from Republic Citizens now?"
"I don't think we're taking it from somebody who's a model citizen, I met Hierogryph once, I pegged him for a rat the minute I met him. Intel also assures me that this good was not obtained by legal means and was purchased through the black market." Carth reminisced while he brought up a small screen with data on Nar Shaddaa.
"Alright, so what's the plan then? What exactly am I here for?"
"I was getting to that. What I want you to do is find the ship carrying that cargo, and intercept it before it can leave the system."
"How am I supposed to find one ship out of the thousands that leave that moon every hour?" Vaner asked, still not sure how he was supposed to pull what he thought Carth was asking of him.
"The Black Suns are currently blockading Nar Shaddaa so the flow of traffic is going to be next to nothing, but I betting whoever Hierogryph sent to retrieve the Box has a way to get around the blockade."
"So just look for the crazy ship trying to shoot or fly his way past the fleet of starships?"
"Shouldn't be too hard, think you can handle it?"
"I suppose, but if this is a mission for Republic Intel, why send me and not some intel officer?"
"Funny story, I asked Intel why they passed the job along to me as well, but they said all their field agents were occupied on something. Not sure what. As for why I picked you, I felt that maybe you'd like to get off this station for a bit."
"You also want to get HK out of here before he kills something don't you?" Vaner mused, twiddling his thumbs and rolling his eyes,
Carth allowed himself a small grin at his godson's feigned disinterested before he continued.
"Well, in that case, I'll ask the captain of the TSF if he can spare some time. I'm sure-"
"No!" Vaner exclaimed as he suddenly shot up sraight in his chair, "I mean, surely Captain Rollula is busy with stuff on the station. I shouldn't have any trouble doing this!"
Just as eager as his old man
"Good then, there's a TSF Patrol ship waiting in the hangar for you. It's got all you'll need to stop a fleeing suspect."
"Thanks, Uncle Carth." Vaner said, bowing a bit as he did so, "And thank you for trusting me with this."
"Just be back before Jolee and Juhani start asking me why I let their apprentice disappear!"
"No promise's!" Vaner shouted back
Before Carth could say anything else, the young Jedi had already run out the sliding doors of Carth's office along with his droid. And Carth was only left to wonder what awaited Vaner, as the republic admiral scrolled through yet another survey report on the progress of Telos' rebuilding.
Dantooine was a storied place. A place of peace but also war, the vast fields and farm valleys had seen battles between Jedi and Sith, Mandalorians and Farmers, and mercenaries and settlers. For now though the Jedi Enclave and the Khoonda settlement protected the planet. In the years after the Jedi Purge and Civil War the hallowed halls had been destroyed and looted only to be once more rebuilt. Several Jedi took it as a sign, that even if the Jedi were hunt and brought to ruin, the will of the Force would eventually bring them back again. That was certainly the mindset of one Megara Surrick.
The only child borne of Jedi Knights Visas Marr and Kyle Surrick, Megara's parents thought they would be back before anyone knew they were gone when they left to look for Revan and Bastila. It wasn't the case, and soon months passed into years. While there were several times that the group the Exile and his wife left behind argued they should search for their friends, it came back to the duty laid upon them. If Revan and Bastila failed, and if Kyle and Visas failed to retrieve them, a strong Republic and Jedi Order would be there to fight the threat that would come. To that end
In a courtyard barely older than she was, the blind Jedi meditated on the Force in dark silence. Master Mical had often said that it was meditating on the Force that revealed it secrets, calmed a Jedi's soul, and allowed the force sensitive to further his or her understanding of the energy that bound the galaxy together. Though the half miraluka woman could not see through her blinded eyes, the Force was her sight, like it was her mother's before her's.
The woman's red hair was cut shoulder length, and mostly obscured by her plain Jedi robes. Covering her eyes was a simple blindfold of cloth, At her side sat the weapon of a Jedi Knight, not the clumsy or random blaster, but a lightsaber, a green lightsaber made by her hands in the local crystal cave on Dantooine. Reaching out into the vastness of the Force, the miraluka could gaze beyond the confines of her small room at the academy.
The young Jedi had been trained by the friends of her parents in the ways of the Force and the lightsaber. Primarily, her master had been her father's right hand man during the conflict with the Sith Triumvirate, Atton Rand, who had assumed leadership of the Jedi Order. But she took skills From her father's faithful Iridonian Bao-Dur she learned of machines and droids The High Council was mainly made up of the Jedi her father had trained during his search for the masters, and along with them were famed Jedi Jolee and Juhani.
Besides being trained as a warrior of the Force, the young Jedi often tinkered with machines and droids like her father did in his youth. Almost always at her side was the aged astromech droid T3-M4. Almost as soon as she could, Megara learned binary droidspeak, much to the amusement of Atton who still had negative feelings about droids, T3 in particular. For as long as she could remember the little Tin Can had been following her around like a little pet mouse droid, but he was much more useful that that.
For example, the little astromech was just right now bursting into the area, apparently with something urgent on his processor.
"Beep woot deez whoop!" The droid let out rapidly, and if he was organic Megara could swear she thought the droid was wheezing,.
"Mira wants me there that bad huh?" Megara wondered aloud as slowly stood up and dusted herself off. "Give me a second."
Stepping down from her seat in the courtyard, the half Miraluka grabbed her single bladed green lightsaber off a nearby table. Sparing one more look at the tree that grew tall and strong in the center of the courtyard, the one she had always climbed as a child, Megara entered the main Enclave hallway. The Jedi had to be careful to avoid the constant tide of people and droids going in both directions. In the many years after the Sith Trimutive the surviving Jedi had been working tirelessly to restore the devastated Order. While there was still much to do before the old strength of the Jedi Knights returned, there remained hope. For there was no Death, there was the Force. This would be true for a Jedi, this would be true for the Jedi.
Finally Megara made it to the rebuilt Council chamber where stood the former bounty hunter Mira, staring at a computer screen flickering with information. Megara cleared her throat to announcement her presence before T3's beeps did, and the current custodian of Dantooine realized the person she asked for was in the room.
"There you are kid! Knew it was better to send the little guy rather than get you on the comlink." Mira grinned nonchalantly while Megara took a seat in one of the many chairs scattered around the room,
"Well, I'm here now. What what exactly am I here for?"
"Zeet geert weeer."
"Keep a lid on it shinny," Mira shot back at T3 before turning her action mack to Megara, "The answer to your million credit question is that I'm giving you your first solo mission."
Megara gripped the armrests of her chair tightly at that news. A successful solo mission would be a big step towards a knighthood. Atton had taken her on several of his missions as Jedi Master, and her father's other friends like Mira had taken her on some as well. But this would be her now, left to her own devices and skills. The half-Miraluka steeled her resolve as she thought to ask more about this chance to prove herself.
"So what exactly is this mission of mine?"
"Sources me and Atton still have on the Smuggler's Moon have informed us of the presence of an ancient Sith Artifact that's about to be smuggled off world to some crimelord's private collection. Your job is going to be to intercept that shipment, because if I know smugglers, and I know them well, whoever's trying to get the artifact will try to run that blockade that's around Nar Shaddaa."
"So, am I going to get to find out what the artifact that I'm looking for is? Or am I just going to have to guess?" Megara pondered sarcastically, earning a smile from her teacher.
"From what me and Atton could find out from the old archives, it's the artifact known as Dreypa's Oubliette. Its nearly as old as the Sith Empire itself, and Force knows what's inside the thing. So, that answer your question?"
The Exile's heir nodded silently, before getting an old idea into her head.
"Just a thought," Mira had been preparing herself for this and shook her head even before the thing was asked, "Can I take your ship?"
"That's gonna be a negative kid, but Bao-Dur's been working on the corvettes lately, so it should have everything you need to tractor a ship in and get that box. Nice try though."
Megara let out a theatrical sigh that reminded Mira so much of the girl's father before talking again.
"I can bring T3 right?"
"Doot weeerp yeeeep!"
"I wouldn't dream of trying to stop that little droid from followin ya around kid. Now get yourself over to the launch bays!"
With a grin as big as a bantha Megara practically leaped out of her seat and gestured for T3 to come along. Using the slightest bit of the Force for a larger burst of speed, Megara soon found herself in the large hangar bay of the reconstructed temple. The main craft occupying these bays, fancy new red Corellian Mini corvettes freshly commissioned by Grandmaster of the Jedi Order Atton Rand. If rumors were true they were mostly funded by an anonymous pazaak player who was a big winner in the Coruscant underground. Finding the ship labeled F-65 Megara and T3 stepped onto the loading ramp, and the young Jedi took her first steps into a much larger world.
A/N Don't know whether or not this is that much better than my last work, but I hope it was... For anybody who read my old woe,, I thai you, but I'm just wasn't satisfied with what I did, and now feel like retooling this whole work from the ground up. I hope I don't George Lucas this and make my new addition worse, but there you have it. If anybody is interested in being a beta reader for me please leave a review or PM me as I always like to have someone reading my stuff before publication. In any case, Read review, and thank you!