Disclaimer: All rights to the Star Wars franchise and characters belong to Lucasfilm.


Chapter 1: Awakening

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away….

Knights of the Old Republic

Four thousand years before

The rise of the Galactic

Empire, the Republic verges

On collapse. Darth Malak,

Last surviing apprentice of

The Dark Lord Revan, has

Unleashed an invincible

Sith armada upon an

Unsuspecting galaxy.

Crushing all resistance,

Malak's war of conquest has left the Jedi Order

Scattered and vulnerable as countless Knights fall in

Battle, and many more

Swear allegiance to the new Sith Master.

In the skies above the Outer

Rim world of Tairs, a Jedi

Battle fleet engages the

Forces of Darth Malak in a

Desperate effort to halt the

Sith's galactic domination….


Sirens whirred around him as he shifted in his sleep, caught in a mass of shapeless dreams that granted him no peace. Through the haze of his unconsciousness, he felt the cool touch of iron upon his face, and briefly glimpsed a figure in front of him, before finally breaking into consciousness. He sat bolt upright in his stainless steel bed, eyes and ears adjusting to the flashing alarms and screeching that accompanied them. Gazing around the room, which was full of bunks identical to his own, he struggled to shake off the last vestiges of sleep and discern his situation. Clearly there was an emergency, but…

His mind stopped there. Where was he? For that matter, who was he? He glanced over at the small storage box that was bolted to the floor beside his bed, and saw a small vanity mirror resting on top of it. Gazing into it, he saw a man in his mid-twenties staring back at him—with fair skin, dark eyes, an aquiline nose, pronounced cheekbones, a strong jaw, and rich brown hair pushed back from his face—a very handsome man. A man who was fully aware of his good looks, and who obviously enjoyed looking at his reflection, one corner of his mouth curling upward into a smirk by sheer reflex.

But who was he? He grappled with his mind, desperately seeking his identity. It was like searching through a corrupted datapad, attempting to elicit answers from something that was hopelessly broken. And then, in a flash, it all returned to him.

His name was Lysias, a former smuggler born on the planet of Deralia. After being caught during a smuggling run six months ago, he had been recruited into the space fleet of the Galactic Republic in exchange for absolution of his past crimes. At present, he had been transferred aboard the Endar Spire, a Hammerhead class cruiser that was transporting Bastila Shan, a prodigious Jedi Knight. Lysias had never actually seen Bastila during his time aboard the ship, but he had heard many rumors concerning her from his crewmates.

As the sirens continued their bleating, Lysias heard the distinct undertones of explosions and laser fire. Eyes narrowing, he swung himself from his bunk, moving to his storage box. The ship was under attack, he thought to himself, opening it and dressing himself. As the Republic as in the middle of a galaxy-wide war with the recently emerged Sith Empire, the identities of the assailants were of no question.

Just as Lysias had fit on his combat boots and retrieved his standard-issue blaster pistol and vibroblade from beneath his bed when the room's electronic door beeped and slid open. In walked a man of about thirty, with short blond hair and a box-like face. "Lysias!" he shouted, ducking in and closing the door behind him. "Leave it to you to be the only one asleep, now of all times!"

His name was Trask Ulgo, thought Lysias, as if there was someone standing behind him whispering information into his ear. "You're my bunkmate," Lysias said, more to himself than to Trask.

Trask seemed to falter, taken aback by this statement. He quickly regained his composure, however. "Yes, I am your bunkmate," he replied sarcastically, "and no, don't mind the Sith assault that's taking place right now, oh no, just go right back to sleep…COME ON MAN! I know you smuggler types are a lazy bunch, but I mean really, you're part of the Republic fleet now! Let's go!" Lysias couldn't help but chuckle as he left his bedside and strode over to Trask. The latter's eyes narrowed at this. "We'll see if you're still laughing once I open this door," he said sternly.

But Lysias had wiped any further lightheartedness from his mind; he was now concentrating on the sounds coming from beyond the door. Laser fire and screams of pain meant that they would probably be engaged the moment they opened to door. Drawing his blaster pistol, Lysias nodded at Trask, who pressed the button to open the exit.

Ducking through even before the door had fully opened, Lysias scanned an empty hallway to find the Republic soldiers at the far end shooting at an unseen enemy around the corner. He sprinted towards them, with Trask following close behind. By the time Lysias reached the soldiers, two had been felled by opposing laser fire, with the third one courageously standing his ground. However he was quickly forced to retreat towards Lysias. "Thank heavens you're here, I-"

"How many are there?" Lysias interjected, staring intently at the soldier, who was adorned in Republican armor.

"U-Uh, there's four of them," he stuttered.

"Right, give me your pistol."

"What!"

"I said give me your pistol." Lysias' mind was working rapidly, viewing his circumstances.

"Um, okay, here," said the soldier, handing over his gun.

"What are you doing Lysias?" Trask inquired, appearing as perplexed as the soldier.

Ignoring both of them Lysias walked to the hallway's corner, just out of sight of whoever, by the sound of their approaching footsteps, were drawing nearer. He threw the soldier's pistol into the second hallway, and immediately stepped out into view of the assailants. As he had expected, they had directed their blaster fire at the hurled weapon, giving him time to survey his targets—four of them in dark metallic armor—and subsequently direct his own blaster at them. Acting almost entirely on instinct, Lysias took aim and squeezed the trigger four times in no more than a second. A moment later the four enemy Sith soldiers collapsed, each with a near identical hole burned in their throats.

"All clear," he announced, as Trask and the second soldier hesitantly peered around the corner.

"How, how did you do that?" the soldier asked, dumbfounded, staring at the fallen Sith.

Lysias chuckled. "Well," he said, gesturing to his pistol, "I pointed this at them, and fired."

"Har har Lysias, pardon us if we didn't get top scores on our marksmanship tests," retorted Trask, walking towards him. Trask appeared slightly jolted, his eyes darting from the enemy corpses to Lysias. He frowned, chewing his lip thoughtfully. "I suppose spending you life running from port authorities and firing over your shoulder helps to hone you skills. In any case, we need to get moving. The Sith are obviously here to try to capture the Jedi Bastila Shan, we need to stop them!"

"We won't be able to do that," the soldier interjected. "They've already overrun the ship, everyone is heading to the escape pods."

"Which are where?" asked Lysias.

"They're by the command bridge."

Trask nodded at this. "Of course," he said, "standard Republic protocol. If the pods are set near the command bridge of a ship, then the higher ranking officials on the ship will have a better chance of getting away."

"It sort of leaves grunts like us out in the cold, though," Lysias drawled. "Although I suppose it is to the greater good of the Republic…" Sarcasm dripped from every word.

Just then another explosion shook the ship. "We should get going," Trask urged, and the trio began running up the hallway, the soldier stooping to recover one of the downed Siths' blasters, his own having been fried by laserfire.

Moving through the Endar Spire, making their way to the command bridge, Lysias reflected upon his situation. It was just his luck, he thought bitterly, to have transferred aboard a vessel right before it was attacked. Why again had he transferred? It hadn't been his choice, he recalled; his commanding officer had informed him that he had been requested, although by whom he did not know. He had assumed that he had been selected for his combat skills; he had been top of his regiment in fighting prowess, the use of blasters and vibroblades coming naturally to him almost by pure instinct. Someone of his capabilities would have been desirable for a ship transporting as important a person as Bastila Shan.

Bastila Shan. Lysias had heard that she was a Jedi of prodigious skill, and had been crucial to the Republican war effort due to her mastery of the rare Jedi talent known as "Battle Meditation". It allowed Bastila to telepathically affect the morale of a battle; she could inspire courage in the hearts of her allies and despair in those of her enemies. Really, thought Lysias, he couldn't blame the Sith for wanting so badly to capture or kill Bastila; he would probably do the exact same thing were he in their position.

Bastila had also gained fame a year previous for leading the strike team that had killed Darth Revan. Revan had been Dark Lord of the Sith, and Darth Malak, the current Sith leader, had been his apprentice. Both had once been Jedi, and had led the Republican forces to victory in the Mandalorian Wars several years earlier, only to turn to the Dark Side, and against the Republic. In a trap set for the Sith Lords, Bastila and her team of Jedi had boarded Revan's ship, and engaged the Sith Lord in combat. However, Darth Malak, Revan's apprentice, had seized the opportunity to usurp his master, and ordered his ship to fire upon Revan's. Revan, caught by complete surprise, had perished, as had Bastila's Jedi companions. Bastila, on the other hand, being exceptionally gifted in the Force, managed to survive, and brought news of Revan's demise to the galaxy.

Lysias' thoughts were interrupted by a sudden vibration at his waist. He looked down to see his silver communicator—a handheld device through which the ship's officers were able to send orders to the rest of the crew remotely—glowing softly. Likewise, Trask and the soldier's communicators were behaving in a similar fashion. They stopped moving and, detaching the devices from their belts, held them up, looking into the small screen that was fitted into each communicator.

A moment later the screens flickered to life, and the image of a man in his mid-30's, with dark brown hair and a goatee, came to view. The man began to speak, his speech hurried but authoritative. "This is Carth Onasi. I have secured the escape pods, but we don't have much time. The Sith have completely overwhelmed the Endar Spire. All crew members must make for the escape pods as soon as possible. Do not try and use the entrance on the command bridge, I've already sealed the blast doors to prevent the Sith from getting in. Use the hidden entrance instead. You all need to hurry; the blast doors won't hold the Sith for long." And with that the transmission ended, the screen on Lysias' communicator fading to black.

"Who was that?" Lysias asked, reattaching his communicator to his belt.

"That was Carth Onasi," answered Trask. "He's a decorated soldier from the Mandalorian Wars, and one of the Republic's best pilots. If he says it's time to abandon ship, then we need to abandon ship!"

"What about Bastila?"

"She's probably already evacuated in an escape pod. Now come on, we need to keep moving!"

The trio resumed their previous pace, and Lysias couldn't help but notice that the explosions rocking the ship were increasing in both intensity and frequency. This knowledge added a little more speed to his step; he certainly would prefer that the ship not explode before he was off it.

"We're almost there," panted Trask. "We've taken a side route to avoid the Sith, and around this corner is the room with the hidden passage that Carth." Rounding the corner, the three men approached the door that Trask had described. As they drew near to it, Lysias had a sudden sense of foreboding. The soldier quickly darted forward and entered the access code on a keypad next to it. The keypad beeped, and the door slid open.

Red light flared, accompanied by a low humming noise. In the middle of the room stood a tall man dressed all in black, with a shaved head and evil expression. And clutched in his right hand, identical crimson blades of plasma extending from either end of it, was a lightsaber. "A dark Jedi," gasped Trask, taking an involuntary step back. Lysias' eyes narrowed. This wasn't good. Jedi were among the most fearsome warriors in the galaxy. Their lightsabers could cleave through almost any known substance, and they exerted control of a mysterious power known as "the Force". To have a Jedi as an ally was in many ways much like having a demigod on one's side. And conversely, to face one as an enemy spelled almost certain doom. From the looks of this one, thought Lysias, he definitely fell among the latter.

The dark Jedi sneered at them, his red lightsaber casting a red glow upon his face. "Well, well," he said, his deep voice carrying across the room, "It seems that I was right to come here." He held up a silver communicator; he had obviously taken it from the corpse of a Spire crew member. Clearly he had heard Carth mention the hidden entrance to the escape pod room.

"How did you know the hidden entrance was in this room?" Trask asked angrily, although it did nothing to mask the fear in his face.

The dark Jedi chuckled. "Well, once some of my men had hacked into this ship's computer system, we downloaded a schematic. It wasn't difficult to deduce where your secret passageway would be. In any case," and now a truly malicious glint shown in his eyes, "shall you die all at once, or one at a time?" He gestured with his lightsaber to emphasize the point.

"W-Why, you!" Stammered the soldier, and with shaky hands he aimed his Sith blaster at the man.

"No, stop!" shouted Lysias, knowing exactly what was about to happen. But it was too late. The soldier squeezed the blaster's trigger, and the weapon fired at the dark Jedi.

In one blurred motion, the dark Jedi raised his lightsaber to protect himself, and the laserbolt hit one of its plasma blades and rebounded. The soldier didn't even have a chance to gasp in surprise before he was struck between the eyes, a hole burned through his head. Dying instantly, he clattered to the ground in a heap.

The dark Jedi let out a roar of laughter. "One down," he commented, grinning broadly.

Dammit, Lysias thought to himself. None of them stood a chance against this man, and now just he and Trask were left. "Lysias," Trask whispered suddenly, keeping his eyes on the dark Jedi as he spoke. His tone seemed strangely calm in spite of their predicament.

Lysias resisted the urge to glance sideways at Trask. "What?" he asked, lowering his voice so that the dark Jedi wouldn't hear him.

"Lysias, there's no way that we're both getting out of this alive. Do you—do you think that you would be able to get to the hidden entrance on the other side if I distract him? It's voice activated; the password is 'Mandalore'."

Lysias' eyes widened in shock. "What are you talking about?" he hissed back. "Distract him? He'll kill you."

"We have no choice!" Lysias could sense the tension in the other man, hear the grinding of his teeth. "Look," Trask said, still whispering, "We'll charge him together, and you'll cross behind me at the last second to get around him. I'm no match for him, but with the cortosis weave on my vibroblade, I should be able to hold him off long enough for you to get to the passageway. Come on, we need to act now, before he decides to attack us!"

And indeed, the dark Jedi was regarding them thoughtfully, his head tilted in curiosity; he was unable to hear what they were saying, but obviously was aware that they were planning something. "Now what are you two up to?" He asked, smiling maliciously. "You're not planning on running away now, are you? Go right ahead; I'd enjoy the pursuit…"

"Trask," Lysias quickly whispered, his heart beating frantically with fear, "why me? Why are you sacrificing yourself for me? Surely you're of more worth to the Republic than an ex-smuggler?"

Trask closed his eyes for a moment, and took a deep breath. When he opened them again, he said solemnly, "I have lived my life honorably in service to the Republic, and so I can die without regrets. You, however, have a long path to redemption in front of you. So you must continue on living, so that you might have the chance to atone for your crimes." Lysias was struck by these words. They seemed…odd to him. Trask took another deep, steadying breath, and then said, "Lysias, when you find Bastila Shan, tell her…tell her that Trask Ulgo performed his duty to the very end."

"Alright," Lysias replied, resigning himself to what was to come. They drew their vibroblades, preparing themselves. The dark Jedi in the room cocked an eyebrow in interest.

"On my count," ordered Trask. "Ready…three…two…one…NOW!" The pair dashed into the room, straight at the dark Jedi. Their assailant brought his lightsaber in front of him, preparing to counter their offensive, his dark eyes narrowing in vicious glee. As Trask closed with the man, Lysias dove to one side of him, passing the pair as the dark Jedi blocked Trask's vibroblade.

Recovering his balance and sprinting towards the far wall, Lysias shouted, "Mandalore!" A small section of the wall beeped and retracted into the floor, leaving an opening large enough to permit an adult man to pass through.

"GO LYSIAS!" Trask shouted, as he and the dark Jedi continued their duel, his vibroblade struggling to fend off the humming lightsaber. Lysias threw himself into the passageway and hurtled down it, his way forward guided by luminescent strips set in the floor. Ten seconds later he heard a pitched yell that could only have been Trask's death rattle, and the distinct pounding of boots on metal floor alerted him to the dark Jedi's pursuit.

Coaxing as much speed as he could from his body, Lysias continued through the narrow passageway until a dimly lit door came into view up ahead. Reaching it, Lysias saw that a hand scanner was mounted on it. All but slamming his palm against the screen, sweat trickled down the back of Lysias' neck as the device analyzed his hand in a flash of green light. Meanwhile he heard the thundering footfalls behind him drawing nearer.

After several agonizing, panic-stricken moments, the scanner beeped and the door slid open, allowing in blinding light from the outside. Lysias leapt through the opening, the doorway closing as soon as he had passed through. Taking several seconds to catch his breath and allow his eyes to adjust to the lighting, Lysias sensed movement to his left. Glancing sideways, he saw Carth Onasi, dressed in a leather jacket, staring at him. "Are there more crew members behind you?" he asked urgently.

"What? No, I'm the only one," replied Lysias, still trying to catch his breath. "We need to leave though, there's a dark Jedi right behind me—"

As if right on cue, a red lightsaber burned through the hidden entrance's door, and began carving a hole in the thick steel. "Right," said Carth, paling at the sight of the red beam. "Here, into the escape pod." He gestured at the side of the room, where several open hatch doors led into what Lysias presumed were the escape pods. They quickly ducked into one of them, finding a cramped space with two harnessed chairs and a set of electronic controls. As they strapped themselves in, Carth pressed a button to initiate the pod's ejection sequence; the hatch behind them closed and sealed shut. "Bastila's already escaped to the planet below."

"Which planet is that?" Lysias asked, checking to make sure that he was secure in his harness.

"It's Taris," Carth replied, "you'll see when we land. Oh by the way, what's your name soldier?"

"Lysias."

A loud crash from the room behind them revealed that the dark Jedi had managed to get through to door. Lysias looked back, fearing that he would cut into their pod with his lightsaber before it was ejected into space. But then their transport lurched forward, and Lysias could see from the indicators on the control panel that they had successfully detached from the Endar Spire. As he breathed a sigh of relief, next to him Carth was monitoring their controls. "Have you ever evacuated in an escape pod before, Lysias?"

There was something about his tone that Lysias found disconcerting. "No," he answered hesitantly. "Why?"

Carth shook his head, and said gravely, "These things don't have the softest of landings. You'd better brace yourself."

And so Lysias watched as the indicator on the control panel measuring the pod's velocity increased. After several minutes, the transport began to shake violently. "We're entering Taris' atmosphere," Carth informed him. Lysias saw the pod's altitude falling drastically on the control panel. He ground himself into his seat as they drew nearer the planet's surface. Five kilometers…four kilometers…three kilometers….two kilometers…one kilometer…blackness…