"Through the Force, things you will see. Other places. The future. The past. Old Friends long gone." - Yoda
-Juno Eclipse-
-Nar Shadaa-
Juno landed the Rogue Shadow on a pier jetting out of a disgusting excuse for a building. She checked around for scum, and found few more than beggars. That was a common a sight here as grass would be elsewhere, but sometimes the beggars spread rumors and information for food or a credit. Here, they'd kill for a credit.
"Welcome to the armpit of the galaxy, PROXY." She muttered.
"This is hardly an armpit, Mrs. Eclipse. It is a series of buildings covered in trash and uncivilized organics."
"Exactly." She turned off the power, save for the security systems, and secured the ship. A blaster in her belt, a handful of credits, and Starkiller's hooded jacket (even though it's not her size) would do her far better here than Starkiller's methods would. He's unconscious anyway. The constant groaning coming from him worried her.
How much time did they have left? They were running out of medifoam and it hadn't been that long. He was growing increasingly pale. The only consolation she had was that the medifoam was staving off infection and numbing the pain.
She checked on Starkiller one last time and, even though it wasn't time yet, gave him another dose of everything she had available. "PROXY, make sure no one comes to the ship without me. The ship's guns are still operational, and the engines can be flashed back on in seconds. I'm going to see what I can do to find a doctor."
Juno entered the streets of lower Nar Shadaa.
Nar Shadaa was technically an Imperial world, but unofficially it was Hutt territory. The Hutts paid homage to the Emperor, and in return were left as governors of the systems. They even had their territory expanded in proportion to how wealthy they made Emperor Palpatine.
Every credit came out of the pocket of their citizens, and it showed. The only way to find work, or payment, was to work for a gang. Every gang was run by a minor Hutt that paid homage to a higher Hutt, and so the system continued up to the most powerful Hutts, the Cartel.
Gangs also fought over territory. Territory equaled people, and people equaled money and workers. In other words: slaves or indentured servants. Indentured servants were less costly and more lucrative, so there were more of those, while slaves were more a symbol of status.
It also made an incredible place if you wanted to disappear.
Juno came to an impasse where she saw a number of armed guards in the distance. Behind said guards, the streets were cleaner and people more depressed, if that was possible, than the beggars outside the perimeter.
Not yet ready to deal with them, Juno turned back and approached one of the isolated beggars. The alien turned pitiful, broken eyes on her, and she lowered herself down to his (she assumes he's male) level.
With a slow hand she pulled out ten credits. The alien's eyed widened, and a hand outstretched, but she pulled back. Catching on, the alien asked, "What do you want?"
"What gang owns this sector?"
"Nal Bar'Sai." He whispered.
She handed him ten credits... and he licked them. Okay... Whatever, she pulled out another ten, and asked, "Do you know any doctors hired there?"
He nodded, yes.
"One with supplies and skill for surgery?"
He hesitated, and shook his head. "Not that I know of." He clarified.
"I see." A doctor was better than nothing, and people in the medical profession often kept tabs on each other so they could send patients to where they were needed if it required specialization. At worst the doctor could lessen the damage and provide contacts, and at best he could do it himself, provided she could get in contact with him to begin with. Still, it was something. "Half is what I don't want, but half is what I do. So here." She handed him five credits, and he thanked her while hastily stuffing them in his pockets with a wide grin.
Now... a place to live and hold out for a while and to get a doctor. She had barely a thousand credits on her. That would be enough to live off of for... a year if she rationed everything against the rent, but it would not be enough for Starkiller's surgery. She wasn't a doctor and she knew at a glance that the price of his medical care would be extensive. Black Market level at this rate.
He would probably need a partial stomach graft, and to be put on the top of the waiting list ASAP.
She would have to sell the ship. That would tide them over if she could haggle it in their favor.
She threw the cloak over herself and walked by the guards, until one stopped her. A bribe, and down two hundred credits later, she had entry into gang territory. The people and streets were less filthy, but the eyes had taken a turn for the hostile. She was swimming with sharks now. She kept a hand on her blaster and a wary eye out as she searched around.
Information was like any other commodity. It had demand and supply. And like anything with both demand and supply, it had cost. Cost that was only compounded by urgency. Down another hundred credits, and she had the name and location of every doctor within a fifteen kilometer radius.
Now the danger came down to people noticing she was passing around credits like candy. The fact that she had credits to bribe around was, in and of itself, a piece of information to be sold to anyone with the hunger to acquire them in less than proper means. The guards were necessary, and so was the shop keeper from whom she learned further information on the doctor, and the beggar from whom she learned that her journey here was less likely to be a waste of nerf-poodoo. But it was still risky, and best for her not to show any credits around again. Eyes were already on her.
The closest doctor was ten minutes away, and the rest varying from half an hour to an hour away. Including higher or lower floors. After putting her blaster to the skull of two pickpockets, and firing a warning shot at a group of teenagers with lecherous looks in their eyes, she had met each doctor.
Despite the pathetic state of this sector, the doctors were actually decent. Two of them were close to capable of what she needed, and then it came down to haggling over price of the surgery, on top of getting 'Bendek' (as she named Starkiller) to the top of the list. It took the rest of her credits to get him to the top of the list, and that didn't include acquiring the stomach yet to create the graft from or the surgery. Unfortunately that would just come down to the doctors making a proper comparison of him and the black market stock for a half-way decent match.
Getting back out of the gang territory was easier than getting in, but much more nerve wrecking. She wasn't sure of the guards would let her back out without a bribe, and she was broke.
They let her out with nothing more perverted smiles, whistles, and a wave.
She slammed the Rogue Shadow door shut and yelled, "GRAAH! I need a shower! Three hours in that place and I feel filthier than if I rolled around in mud! How is he?"
"He is declining at the expected rate." PROXY reported.
She stared at him. "I don't know how you managed to make that sound horribly depressing in such a casual tone... but you did. See if you can find anything around the ship we can sell on the black market that we won't be needing after we sell off the ship."
"Have you found a new place of residence?"
"Not yet, it's a bit down on my to-do list." She was not looking forward to going back out there. She was used to professionalism and military correctness. She knew how men were, and saw it in small quantities even in the military, but the openness of vile thoughts earlier made her feel utterly disgusted and vulnerable as a woman.
She busied herself with downloading maps and what information she could off the holonet. It was horribly patched data, but enough to find her way around. "Found much, PROXY?"
"Yes, Mrs. Eclipse." The droid motioned to a collection of objects it had compiled to sell.
She surveyed them. Many of them were based on PROXY's racist views of being a droid, but it had a good grasp of what had value and what did not. They were everyday objects found on a ship, but she could tell they would get them something while not being necessary for their survival.
"This'll do." She dumped it all in a bag and opened the door again to depart. "I'll find us a buyer. Can you get Starkiller ready to be moved?"
PROXY looked at its master and back at her. "I do not believe he is ready to be moved, no matter what I do."
"I know... just... try to make it easier."
"I will see what I can do." It acknowledged.
She grabbed the few credits they had left lying around and left. Selling things on the black market was more difficult than simple bribery or threats, as it was a mobile enterprise or a very hidden one. Either way it required information... So a bribe later, she was back in the gang territory with a bag full of goods on her back. She kept to the side streets, but that didn't stop thieves.
A man grabbed her and pulled her into a back alley with a knife. "Well, aren't you a pretty little thing? What are you hiding behind all that hood? Here, let me be a gentlemen and help you with your burden."
She didn't move against the knife, but she still drew her pistol without moving or him noticing. "Oh, I'm sure you aren't much of a gentlemen." She replied while aiming down at his foot.
She fired. He screamed, loosened his grip, and then tried to kill her. There might have been something in there about her being a bitch, she couldn't tell. She was too busy grappling him to the ground and running for her life while clutching the bag.
Juno stopped after she lost sight of him and caught her breathe. Her legs shook and her heart felt like it wanted to jump out of her chest with each beat. "Men..." She hissed. "Nothing like this would happen in the Imperial army. Why... why did I have to take that assignment..." She had been ordered by Vader to be his agent's pilot, and she accepted.
She should have checked the fine print. She didn't know that Vader, or someone equal, would turn on her. She made sure not to know too much beyond what she needed, so that they couldn't say 'she knew too much'. She did as she was told, asked for minimal information, did her job, and tried to get to know the cold teenager to keep it from being a horrible job.
Judging from how hurt Starkiller was, he had been caught in something too. The question was: what? What had happened? She doubted the fleet had arrived JUST for her, she was just a simple pilot. The better alternative to removing her would have been to send Starkiller after her. They may have warmed up enough to joke around a bit, but she had no doubt he would do it if ordered to.
So, with that considered, she was not the target. She was not the reason the fleet had arrived. She was little more than a side dish in something much much bigger. But this only returned to the question of what that was. She was completely out of the loop. She knew Starkiller was hunting Jedi, but then that was considered the duty of all Imperials to go after criminals. She would take a shot at Jedi if she was told. Hunting Jedi wasn't some big top-secret thing like System 51.
Something was going on, and Starkiller was at the very heart of it. That was the only thing she could conclude. All of her hopes and nightmares lay on him. On one hand, he was the key to getting back with the Empire. On the other hand, he, or what he was involved in, was the reason she wasn't. So could he even fix this?
She sighed. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't just grasp at straws to figure out what was going on. She had to work with what she knew, and what she knew, was that Starkiller was dying and needed her.
Even if he wasn't the key to saving her career, or life, it was at least her duty to help. That's what she believed people should do for each other.
After a time she came across a market of some kind and sold everything she had on her. She had no idea if it was the black market. She didn't know, didn't ask, and, frankly, didn't care. She sold everything for as much as she many credits as she could get, but she couldn't shake the feeling she had been cheated. She had priced everything in her mind. She had haggled up to stay near the estimated range. Yet the atmosphere of the place kept her on edge and questioning every word and every smile. Especially the smiles. They reeked of greed and desire.
Selling the ship was the hard part. She knew the schematics of the ship by heart. Its engine, shielding, warp drive statistics, its gunnery, its hidden compartments and visible ones. Its bonus little utilities such as landing gear that could work with more environments than normal. She didn't know the exact dimensions of every room, but she could give enough of an idea to get the point across. But despite all of her knowledge, she needed to find a buyer she could trust wouldn't cut the price in half over the slightest scratch.
-Darth Vader-
-Coruscant Senate Building-
Darth Vader stood in the shadows overlooking the Senate. His presence was known, but hushed. The parasites wanted to live in their little fantasies that they were unwatched and able to speak freely. The reality couldn't be further from the truth. Every word was analyzed because... as loathe as it was to admit, they were corrupt. The senate was no less corrupt now than it was before the Empire. A corruption Vader intended to see blotted out.
There were many forms of corruption, but the ones he kept his attention on were the money grubbers who sold planets for money and rebels.
As if a hypocritical twist of fate, Vader still hung onto some core principles from his youth in regards to the Senate. They were necessary, but now, as Vader, he had the power and right to do what he finally felt he needed to do to blot out the evil within the Senate. In a way, he was himself a necessary evil. Any creation that existed without competition would inevitably consume itself by its own hubris, and the Senate was no less of an example. Without another force for it to answer to, it had become corrupt, hence: Vader.
With the Senate meeting over, Vader stepped back into the shadows and found his master. He bowed his head, and stayed silent.
"So... Lord Vader." The old man started, "What did you find?"
"Even as the Senate loves you with their mouths, their hearts are against you. I sensed a great many lied, but did not distinguish which ones. They are at odds with you. They are growing afraid."
"Yes... and while that fear is proper, their lies are not. Fear breeds caution. Lies breed conflict and civil war... Especially from this accursed Delegation of 200... Many will die at the whims of a few..." Palpatine said sadly.
Vader knew better. Palpatine wasn't sad. He actually found minor conflict entertaining. Still, Palpatine was leading the conversation in a certain direction. "What is your will, my master?"
Palpatine looked out into the bright streets of Coruscant and said, "Corruption and decay is like a tumor in the brain. Trying to blot it out your way is like hitting a man in the face with a hammer... We must use a more precise tool. A little more subtlety. We must coax out the corruption and... snip it off. Find a way to do this, Lord Vader. Be ruthless. Show no mercy." He ordered. "And do not think I have forgotten your recent... acquisition."
Vader waited a single moment to see if anything would follow. Of course, Palpatine would not forget he had trained a youngling to eventually kill him. Palpatine had turned him into something his wife could not understand...
Seeing as how Palpatine had nothing more to follow, Vader nodded and said, keeping his hatred carefully concealed. "As you wish, my master."
-Juno Eclipse-
-Nar Shadaa-
"PROXY? PROXY? You there?" Juno whispered into the shadows. She entered the apartment building and looked around. The apartment was empty of anything and everything. "PRO-"
"Yes, Mrs. Eclipse?" PROXY said from behind her.
Juno jumped in surprise. PROXY shut the door and placed a lightsaber inside its chest cavity, "It is good you spoke when you entered. Otherwise your head might have rolled. I am most pleased I have not had to remove you before master."
"Yes... your welcome." She said, unsure how to respond. She had been gone most of the day. "How is he?"
"Continuing to decline at the expected rate."
"I really need to stop asking you... I sold the ship and have a doctor standing by. Is Starkiller ready to be moved?"
"He is as ready as he was before." PROXY stated happily.
It creeped her out how it could state such morbid things with glee. "Okay... well... let's go. Where is he?"
"Back here!" PROXY showed her a back room where Starkiller was tucked away against the wall. He was shaking, sweating, and his breathing was acting up again. The last of their medifoam was wearing out.
"You take the legs, I'll take the arms. We need to move carefully, but swiftly." Juno instructed. She grabbed him by the shoulders and slowly lifted. Starkiller groaned painfully and cried out at one point.
"On your command." PROXY responded. It lifted Starkiller's legs onto its shoulders and Starkiller lifted on the ground between them.
"One... two... go." Juno started back pedaling towards the door, and after kicking it open, hauled Starkiller down the hall, down the stairs, out the door, and through the streets. People scattered or watched warily as they moved him. He was not near as heavy as Juno expected.
"Mrs. Eclipse. There are hostiles watching us."
"I know..." She trained a wary eye on the gatherings of punks in every alley way. She felt vulnerable. They couldn't move Starkiller properly like... with a vehicle or something. They had to walk him. There wasn't even a taxi! No stretchers. They had nothing. She had paid every credit, just short of how much they would need to potentially bribe people more, to the doctor from their ship's capital.
Juno didn't let herself think about what to do after they had Starkiller on the doctor's table. The possibilities terrified her, almost as much as the wolfish look everyone was giving them. If they attacked, Juno or PROXY would have to drop Starkiller in order to defend them. They could fight off these punks easily, but Starkiller might die from shock in the process. "Little faster, PROXY. I'm getting the creeps."
"Roger, roger."
The doctor took one look at the young man being hauled in by the robot and lady and gasped, "oh my... oh, yes, put him on that table there."
The man knocked everything on the table onto the floor and they placed Starkiller on it. A medical droid rolled in, looked at Starkiller, and poked him with its appendages. "Doctor. We must begin surgery immediately."
"I know..." The doctor sighed. He turned to the patient's friends. "What happened to him?"
"I don't know..." She answered honestly.
"Well, the damage is extensive. I'm surprised he is still alive! How much strength does have to hang on through this!? We have the transplant ready. I'll take care of everything from here, but I have to be honest with you... I don't see him surviving. Stomach acid is poison to the body, his inner organs are burned, and his spine has taken irreparable damage. He may have massive internal bleeding and a rib piercing his lung for all I know."
"Watch for major concussion as well." PROXY added.
The doctor stared at it for a long time. "Great... The room is ready. Go wait outside. I'll let you know how it goes when we're done."
"I'll go outside, but I insist PROXY supervise." Juno pointed to the robot.
"What?"
"I insist." She demanded. She didn't trust the doctor. His sympathy could be false and he is actually an organ harvester, or is a scam in general.
The doctor glanced between her and the droid, before submitting reluctantly. "Very well... so long as he doesn't mess up the procedure."
-Starkiller-
-Somewhere-
"Well, where the hell am I now?" Starkiller wondered.
He stopped between a group of dense, dark trees. The world shifted around him in an almost dreamlike state, but that did little to make the swamp appear more horrifying. He wasn't scared, but he couldn't deny how spooky it was. It also didn't help that he didn't know how he had arrived here.
He was also lost.
Picking another path through the trees at random, he journeyed onward. It felt like he had been here for days. The trees phased in and out, aged older and younger, and shadows reached out for him. He knew he had to be dreaming, because he didn't hear the squish of water when he stepped in mud, nor did touching the trees with his hand make him feel the wood, even though the branches moved aside for him. A rock path in his way shrank away as though the passage of time was sped up and a crocodile leaped out the water to snag a bird just in front of him, only to pass through him.
Starkiller watched the shadows warily, unable to shake the feeling he was being watched. The animals had passed him by without notice... but someone had.
-PROXY-
-Nar Shadaa-
The doctor worked to remove the infected flesh from Starkiller and sow the new stomach lining in. The stomach fluid was pumped out, but it was far too late. Stomach acid had already been sitting inside his body for a long time. His organs had acid burns and poisoning. Starkiller's heartbeats pinged faster and faster with each passing second.
"Not good... not good. come on!" The doctor murmured.
PROXY observed and knew the doctor was taking his work seriously. It could do nothing but stand by and watch. It knew little of medicine beyond the ability to observe vitals, and what it observed did not bode well.
Were they too late?
The machine showing Starkiller's heartbeats went flat and emitted a long, steady screech.
"Nurse!" The doctor barked at the droid. "Get me a-"
-Starkiller-
-Somewhere-
The world shifted again, this time in color. Every piece of life Starkiller saw flashed into an almost spectral form, and people appeared. All kinds of people, but three drew his attention. Two people were blue luminescent beings, and the third was a short green toad-man.
The first blue spirit was a tall, wide shouldered, firmly built man with a well-groomed beard and hair to his ears. He held himself with surety and strength. His eyes spoke of wisdom born of experience and difficulty of life, but also the mirth of a slight prankster.
The second blue spirit was a bit shorter, very lanky, and was hooded. He seemed far less comfortable than the first spirit. Either he was naturally skittish or he was unused to being a spirit in Starkiller's dream.
The toad-man sat on a log and talked with them. He was old, very old. It was more than the cane that told Starkiller that, more than the wrinkles, but the general impression he got through the Force was that this toad-man was very very old, and very powerful. Not as powerful as the spirits, as the spirits were without limit by simple nature, but powerful like a cup overflowing in water. If the toad-man was a spirit-dream too, he could be stronger than the spirits.
Starkiller's feet led him to them. Whether by curiosity, Force, or them existing as the only things worth seeing around here. All of the other spirit-dreams were more like shadows and whimsical, unsure even of where they were.
Starkiller stopped by them and looked them over curiously. He didn't know who they were. He recognized their dress as Jedi, but could not place their faces. The two Jedi-spirits in his dream were much younger in form than their eyes seemed to suggest. They couldn't be any older than twenty-five both.
"Anakin worries me greatly," the taller dream-spirit said. "He's so close to finding his daughter. Seven times now he has seen her in the Senate halls with her adoptive father. He needs only one time to make the connection in her face and Padme. She looks so much like her mother."
The second spirit murmured. "The sight of her has to haunt him as it is, like an old wound."
"Be thankful in the Force, we must, that distracted he is in other matters." The toad man nodded in thought.
'Anakin? Who's Anakin? I don't know any Anakins.' Starkiller thought. He figured he must be making names up for his dream.
"And what of the apprentice?" The second spirit wondered of the first two. He sounded worried.
"Yes... what of him." The first spirit turned his head to look straight at Starkiller. Starkiller was briefly surprised. All this time he assumed they didn't know of him. Now his own dream figures was centering their attention on him.
"Well... It is not my wish for him to die in darkness."
"His to make, that choice is." The toad man responded vaguely, also looking straight at Starkiller.
Starkiller grew aggravated. His own dream was having some conversation with itself while looking right at him. That was irritating. "You know, its rude to ignore me." Starkiller said.
"And it is rude to jump into conversations not concerning you." The first spirit responded with a mischievous smile.
Starkiller narrowed his eyes at the man. "I didn't choose to come here, old man. I've been wandering for forever and found myself here."
"No one ever does choose to come here, but then... just how did you come here?"
"Like I said, I've been wandering." Starkiller said, growing impatient.
"That's not what I mean. I mean, how did you come 'here'?"
Starkiller thought about it and glanced briefly at the second spirit. There was something about him that was irking at the back of his mind, but he couldn't place it. He could only see pieces of the man's face. The rest of it was hidden.
But just how did he get here... The last he remembered was-
"Do it now, Lord Vader! Strike him down and prove your loyalty to me!" The Emperor demanded.
Starkiller gasped and clutched as his stomach, remembering the stab wound... but... there was nothing. But he could feel the ache in his bones and could feel the air leave his lungs in the vacuum of space. But there was also no pain. The ache and hurt was as ghostly distant as the dream-spirits around him, and only growing more and more distant with each passing minute.
-PROXY-
-Nar Shadaa-
PROXY watched as the nurse droid had all of its appendages inside Starkiller and the doctor worked while sweat poured off his brow. "I can't... The adrenaline isn't working! He's in cardiac arrest! You!" He pointed at PROXY. "Get the case over there!"
PROXY saw a small box to the side, picked it up, laid it on the table next to the doctor, and opened it carefully. The doctor rushed away from Starkiller to wash his bloody hands in a bowl briefly before grabbing the contents of the box: defibrillators.
"Lift him slightly!"
PROXY lifted Starkiller, gently, off the table by barely an inch, and the doctor scooted a pad under him. "Thanks. My nurse has her hands full. Now move!"
PROXY took a step back and the doctor put an opposite pad over Starkiller's heart.
-Starkiller-
-Somewhere-
"I... died." Starkiller realized. His mind reviewed every moment of his death time after time. "I was murdered. I was betrayed! I actually died!" He looked to the spirits in fear. "This... it isn't a dream... is it?"
"I'm sorry..." The second man suddenly said with mourning. "This wasn't what I wanted for you."
Something about the tone in which he said that made the tickling sensation in his mind fire up red flags all over the place, but again, he couldn't put the pieces together. He felt he was looking at a puzzle while only holding two pieces.
Suddenly Starkiller felt, just as much as see, a ripple explode from his chest. The world of spirits and swamps disappeared to darkness only to return the next moment. Starkiller fell to his knees as fire erupted in his stomach and he felt like his bone broke. The pain went away just as quickly.
"What the hell?" Starkiller murmured. He looked up into the face of the second man and gasped. He was looking at himself. "Wha-? Who? Just who are you?"
The spirit did not answer. Rather, the first spirit stepped forward, "Yes... you were betrayed by Darth Vader. I am sorry, but you are dead."
"Then... this...?" Starkiller looked around.
"Is the Force. The Force is, in one sense, the collective consciousness of all who have come before. That is why you can see people, and we can see you."
"Aa..."
A second ripple exploded from Starkiller's chest, and the world disappeared into darkness again. He screamed in pain as, again, he felt his bones broken and abdomen on fire. And again, the darkness disappeared to show the spirits.
"What the hell! What's going on with me?!" Starkiller asked in growing fear. Even as a spirit he shook in fear, remembrance of pain, and still coming to terms with being betrayed by his surrogate father.
"It would appear your companions do not want your time to come, yet." The first spirit said. He smiled warmly. "Congratulations. If the link between body and spirit is still strong, you may not be dead yet."
"Companions?" Starkiller asked himself. Who? He didn't have any friends... He had PROXY, but PROXY's job was to kill him. PROXY would never save him.
A third time a ripple exploded out of his chest, and the darkness stayed longer. When Starkiller returned, screaming in pain, the second man turned away in pain as well.
Starkiller was growing annoyed, and if asked, odds are a good portion of it was anger at his own pain. Pain tended to make him angry. "Okay, really, who are you?! Why do you look like me!?"
The second spirit gulped, unsure about answering... before allowing an answer. "I am your father..."
Starkiller felt a bucket of cold water wash over him, and like that, past and present and future came to him in vivid detail.
A ripple exploded out of his chest, and he saw red as he took Vader's saber from him after he had killed his father.
"I'm sorry." His father whispered.
Another ripple. Starkiller screamed in agony from anewed pain, both real and fictional as he saw himself be betrayed by Vader. The swampy spirit world returned again, and Starkiller realized he was crying. Vader had killed his father... and made him into what he was...
"I'm so sorry..." His father cried.
Yet another ripple erupted from his chest, and ice came over him as Starkiller saw himself on an ice planet be tossed around by Lord Vader. He had created an army, like Vader wanted, and had been betrayed... A second time.
"You agreed to stay away!" The future Starkiller yelled.
"I lied, as I have from the very beginning." Future Vader answered. He lifted the future Starkiller up by the Force.
"You never intended to destroy the Emperor..." Future Starkiller realized.
"Not with you. No." Future Vader answered.
The ice world disappeared back into swamp.
Starkiller felt fury and anger unlike anything he had ever known in his heart. He had given everything to Vader. Even after Vader had betrayed him, he had jumped onto the chance to mean something to him. And again, Vader had betrayed him. He had NEVER meant anything to Vader!
A fourth ripple soon followed by a fifth, sixth, seventh... continuing on into an increasingly rapid series of ripples exploded from his chest beyond his count, until Starkiller almost felt like it was timed to his heart beat. Every ripple was the beating of his heart.
Then it stopped.
Starkiller appeared again within the swamp, but the spirits were gone. Alone on the muddy planet, he struggled to his feet. The swamp rained heavily around him. The torrent beat down on him until streams ran down his face and his dark robes clung to his skin. A philosophical man might have remarked that Heaven itself was mocking the young man, reminding him cruelly of his pain, his helplessness within the grasp of a monster, his inability to turn the tables and regain all that he had lost. But had they looked closer, under the hood he found himself wearing, into the mask he suddenly had on, they might have seen Starkiller smiling. For there was much for him to be pleased about. He knew now what Vader intended to do, and wouldn't be caught off guard.
Thunderclaps in the swamp around him drew his attention skyward. In the far distance, a great snake rose. The gigantic snake looked towards the heavens and roared its defiance, a great hydra illuminated by a blue and purple streak of lightning.
A violent thrill bubbled up from Starkiller's toes to his smile. A plan blossomed in his mind, and he laughed. Just as much as the future sought to haunt him and show him how useless resistance was, he found himself planning, plotting, how to turn everything into his favor.
With every plot, the future changed. With the realization of what he had to do, the dice was no longer cast. He could not tell where his plan would take him, nor what the future held anymore, but he didn't need to. He had seen enough to know the truth about Vader.
"Vader wants an army... I'll show him an army." Starkiller declared as the distant monster roared to the heavens.
One last ripple exploded out of his chest, and all he saw was darkness.
Note: Let me be clear about something before you get angry. Starkiller will NOT be able to predict every little thing or have future insight into his own plot like a cheap back-to-the-past plot where he suddenly has a solution to every little thing. He won't be able to sit and there and go "okay, Leia is on Kashyyyk, and the senator dude wants her captured, so ill just head to Kashyyyk, get it over with, and then go say hi." No.
Starkiller's perception of the future extends only so far as knowing that Vader will want him to make an army, and then will betray him after he has formed a small one. That's it. That is all I have revealed via the story, because that is all he knows.
Starkiller does not know who to recruit.
Starkiller does not know how to recruit them.
Starkiller does not know where to attack.
Starkiller does not see anything where he becomes a Jedi or falls in love with Juno or anything.
Starkiller DOES know that he had succeeded in forming an army, so he knows he can do it, but he doesn't know who he recruited nor how he did it.