Act: I Birth

Chapter: I The Colony

Republic Drop ship en-route to Endor.

Private Jamon Kith was sweating in his boots. It was his first mission so some nervousness was to be expected, but to Endor? Jamon knew something didn't feel right and he always trusted his gut. A distress call had come from one of the scouting patrols on the outer rim. While on a routine survey of the system, the patrol had found a small colony of people living on Endor. After about a month of study, the survey team reported increased aggression from the colonists. Fights erupted without warning. Just a week ago, a call came reporting rioting in the colony. Emergency assistance was asked for, but the transmission was cut mid-call. Now the Republic was sending troops to recover the survey team.

"Alright troops," Commander Dela called, "We will be dropping in at the edge of the colony. Our objective is to find the survey team. We go in; we bring them out, copy?"

"Yes Sir," the troops replied in unison.

Jamon gulped.

Sergeant Kil spoke next to him. "I was nervous my first mission, too. Don't worry. This is a routine operation; done it hundreds of times before, hardly ever a casualty."

Jamon wasn't comforted.

The landing lights came on. Slowly, the ship landed in a clearing next to some simple structures. The landing ramp lowered and out filed the Republic troops, Jamon among the last. Together, the troops entered the outskirts of the colony. What Jamon saw made him wish he had become a freighter pilot. Bodies lined the streets. Kneeling down, Jamon examined one of the corpses. It was the body of a man in his mid-thirties. His blood stained shirt revealed multiple stab wounds. Jamon also noticed a trickle of blood that ran down the man's face where he had received a blow to the head. The man's unfocused eyes stared wildly into the sky. Jamon brushed his gloved hand across the body's face, closing the man's eyes. It wasn't much but it was the most Jamon could do. The Private rose to his feet and followed his troop into the village.

As the Republic officers neared the center of the colony the number of bodies rose. Some were killed by blaster bolts; others were strangled by bare hands. Blood smears etched the sides of the houses. Jamon was sick with the sight of it.

They searched the houses for survivors. Jamon and Sergeant Kil entered a house to the right of the street. The door itself was hanging slightly off its hinges. A small groan permeated their surroundings as the two stepped from the dirt outside to the wood floor inside. They searched the main room for anything alive. Apart from the fireplace that sat on the opposite wall, everything in the room had been shredded. A dining set comprised of a wooden table and three chairs had been overturned and flung against the wall; their contents strewn throughout the floor. A woolen carpet was also torn to pieces and coated with a thin crust of blood.

They checked the kitchen and the refresher with similar results. Nothing inside, everything destroyed. It wasn't until the two had gone upstairs and into a small bedroom that they found something. A woman lay on the bed. Her arms were covered in bloody slashes. Kil checked her pulse. He shook his head. "She's dead."

They exited the house and proceeded to the one next door. They met the same results: Destruction and bodies. Jamon had long lost count at how many lay dead. As they exited the fifth house Sergeant Kil asked the question that was on everyone's mind.

"What in the hell happened here?"

Destruction was seen everywhere. Doors were torn off their hinges, livestock were slathered; entire houses were off their foundations. As the Republic officers began to finish their search and gathered in the square, a loud cry came from one of the nearby houses. Through the open door ran a half-naked man, screaming at the top of his lungs and holding a long knife. His face and hands were bloody and his eyes a wild, crazed look to them. He pounced on a nearby soldier, stabbing him in the chest. The soldier fell and the wild man moved to the next soldier. He was quickly cut down by blaster fire. Commander Dela arrived on the scene moments later.

"What the kriff happened!"

"A wild man appeared out of nowhere, Sir" one soldier replied, "Stabbed Amon, we had to shoot."

Commander Dela examined the fallen soldier. He checked the soldiers pulse. He was dead.

"Kriff," he swore.

A second soldier appeared, "Sir, we found something."

He handed the Commander a small, leather bound book, "It looks like a journal from one of the survey team."

Commander Dela briefly flipped through the book. Then he placed it in his pocket. "Ok men, I want a three kilometer perimeter around the colony. I what to know want happened to these people and I wanted to know five minutes ago. Move out!"

Private Jamon and Sergeant Kil cut through the underbrush outside the colony. Images of dead colonists flashed through his mind. Mother was right:, I should have been a freighter captain. A bush rustled to Jamon's left, making him jump. Jamon raised his blaster, nothing. It's just the wind, he thought, and moved on. For an hour the two trudged through the underbrush. Suddenly, Jamon stopped.

"What is it?" Kil asked.

"Something doesn't feel right."

"Nothing feels right in this jungle."

"It's not that," said Jamon, "There's something here…"

"What are you talking about?"

"Hold on a second."

Jamon wandered off to his left, drawn by an unknown force. Something was calling to him, and he had to answer. A few minutes later he came upon an old, rotting log. Jamon noticed that a small hole had been recently cut into the wood. Jamon peered into the hole. What he saw made him gasp.

"SERGEANT KIL!"

Kil came crashing through the underbrush, his blaster raised.

"What's wrong?"

"Get the Commander. I found something he's going to want to see."