Title: Apophous: Transparent Mind
Summary: A young boy's destiny is changed when he is taken on as a Sith apprentice by a former terrorist.
Rating: PG (for violence and junk)
Disclaimer thingy: Do I really have to have one of these disclaimer
things? Anyway, everyone knows that I, Master Dash Rendar, do not
own Star Wars. George does. BUT, I do own all of the characters in this story,
except Katie Zecli and Antooanna, and for that I thank Genius writer Seth N. Jones.
Unless by chance I end up mentioning the existence of a copywrited Star Wars character, I own them! (but I couldn't care less if you used them in your stories)
And I'm making no, zero, jack squat in cash from this semi creative book (darn).
Thanks: I would like to thank my mom and dad....I don't know how they helped me with this story, but it just seems like the right thing to do. I want to thank my friend, Kat, who truly inspired me to write this with her own stories and always encouraged me. And I want to thank two friends, let's just cal them "Apophous" and "Chicharious". They created those characters. Well, they actually just created the names, so when I heard them, I grabbed them and ran. And of course, thank you, George.
Author's note: I'm new at this fan fic thing. But I'll tell you one thing,
the Apophous series doesn't end with "Transparent mind".
Look forward to seeing my next story, labeled "With Darkness Comes Silence"
Please Review! Please!
STAR WARS
APOPHOUS
TRANSPARENT MIND
Prologue
"Something's not right...." A young human boy with pitch black hair
froze. His strong senses spoke to him, and when they did, they
were never ignored. It was clear, yet faded at the same time. He
could not pin-point this specific feeling, it was something he had
never experienced before.
Normally, no excitement or activity
occured in the the small, low technology village of Ach'oda, a
settlement in a remote area of the planet Antooanna. But he was
not in the village at the time, he was target shooting in the woods
with his brand new, low powered bowcaster. The primitive
weapon was a gift from his father, Melchizedek. Giving gifts was
not a regularly practiced ritual for the poor family, but this, being
the boy's fourteenth birthday, was considered a worthy occasion.
Strangely,
at fourteen, the boy had been considered an adult for two years, for the
method of time telling was much different on Antooanna than the standard form.
The youth was capable of sensing things that would normally
surpass his friends and family, revealing that he had a highly
developed awareness of the force. He re-holstered his weapon, for
the strange alertness that rippled through his mind sent his heart
pounding. His dark eyes moved slowly back and forth as he tried
to grasp the emotion, but it was too faint. All that his senses told
him was that there was fear and panic among his family, and a
sudden concern of what may be happening surged through his
body.
He turned to face the direction of his home, and panicked
when he saw a dark cloud of smoke rising above the trees. He
stood motionless for a few seconds, petrified from shock. When
he came to his senses, he bagan running as fast as he was
capable, unconsious of anything else. As he neared his home, he
could smell and almost taste the dense smoke hanging in the air.
He nearly passed out as he parted the tall grass to see his home,
along with the entire residence, egulfed in flames. Adrenaline
flooded and he charged inside his inflamed household, prepared to
do anything to save his parents. It took him only seconds to
search his small home to find that they were not there. He burst
out the door, the smoke begining to take affect. He trembled from
confusion and fear. He hadn't the slightest conception of what
may have happened during the half hour that he was gone, but
was too terrified to care. A quick vision flashed in front of his
eyes. He remembered a time when he was young when a huge
and powerful storm hit his villiage, and he and his mother and
father, along with many others, evacuated their homes to spend
the night in a neighbor's cellar, actually an underground cave, for
cover from the dangerous weather. He felt urged to go there.
Again, he ran. He was overjoyed when he saw some of his
father's work hands assisting people into the cellar. When Karnaa
Graunn, an Antooannian friend of the boy's parents saw him, he
motioned him to come closer.
"Where are your father and mother?" He asked, the dark green
crystal in his forehead reflecting the glow of the spreading fire. His
already dark skin was tinted from the black smoke.
"I don't know! What's happening?"
The boy was given a sideways look.
"What do you mean? Weren't....weren't you at home with your
parents?"
"I was...but I took...I took my new blaster in the woods....but...but
when I got back my house was burning down...." The boy was
now shaking intensesly and tears of confusion were welling up in
his eyes. "Who...did this?" Karnaa sighed loudly. He bent over, his
long, glistening wings still reaching two meters above the ground.
His green eyes were focused in on boys dark brown eyes. He
began slowly, hoping to calm the disconcerted young man.
"The town was overrun by the Schiyan earlier,"
"What? The Schiyan? What's..."
"Terrorists. They're terrorists."
The boy stumbled backwards, shaking his head in disbelief.
"I...don't understand...." Said the boy slowly.
"Neither do I, but we have to stay here." The man spoke very
soft, for he too was frightened. The teenager nodded languidly. He
found himself sitting in the corner of dark, wet cellar. And there he
sat for hours upon hours with the other homeless citizens of the
town. He tortured himself with his own thoughts, and finally came
to the conclusion that his parents were dead. He stared past the
sleeping residents at the dull wall. Sudenly, light flooded the room
as a tall man burst through the door.
"Get out! Everyone! Now! Now!" The man led the panicked
Antooannians across the room to a small tunnel, leading to
another exit. The boy sat. Of course, the evacuaters were too
rushed to do a headcount, and the boy was left sitting willingly
alone in the cave. Everyone was gone. The terrorists neared, but
he didn't care. He would have killed himself earlier, but he had no
effecient weapon. The light from the open door was blocked
momentarily by the outlines of huge men and aliens entering the
room. There were humans, there were Grans, there were
Qaurrens and Twi'leks, most of them species that the boy had
never heared of. There were at least a dozen of them, which, to
the boy, didn't seem like enough to burn an entire town to the
ground and scare away it's entire inhabitance. A tall, bald human
man wearing an ammunition vest and camoflauge attire
approached him, picked him up by the collar of his faded brown
shirt, lifted his dagger above his head, and prepared to do away
with him.
"He's only a boy," Came a deep, hardy voice from a tall,
muscular man standing behind him. The terrorist nearly flinched
when he heard the voice The powerful man wore no shirt, but
strange X shaped armor. A long, yellow cape hung from his left
shoulder pad, and a long scar marked the entire right side of his
face. The bald man dropped the boy and backed slowly away as
the man wearing the strange armor approached him.
"What is your name, boy?" Came again the deep, strong voice.
The teenager looked sternly up to the man, showing he feared
nothing from him, not even death.
"My name, is Apophous."
Chapter I
The 18 year old Apophous never imagined that he would be
locked in combat, let alone Lightsaber combat, with the man who
took him off the forsaken planet Antooanna, and in his mind
saved his life. Apophous was now a well built boy, muscular, fast,
and wise, but the mysterious dark haired man he was fighting,
standing seven feet tall and able to shove his unprotected fist
through a metal wall, obviously had the advantage in Lightsaber
combat. It had been four well spent years from the time that the
powerful man, once a terrorist, reeked havoc throughout the
galaxy. There he stood, half a meter away from Apophous, in a
professional combat stance, and although Apophous was not
capable of handling his full strength attacks, he was clearly
prepared for anything the boy could throw at him, he himself also
holding a small metal tube with a glowing blade of yellow light
reaching five feet from beginning to end. Apophous glared tensely
into the eyes of his adequate opponent, and squeezed his
Lightsaber, glowing pure white, tightly. The two opponents were
like shadows, their dark frames circling an endless oval in the
center of an immensely huge iron plated floor. The force was
there, but it's scource was uncertain. Apophous wiped the sweat
from his forehead, and his heavy breathing ceased. His weary
expression turned violent. His gloved hands gripped the ancient
weapon even tighter. He very suddenly and ery abruptly took a
powerful swing at the man's right hip, and when he swiftly and
powerfully brought his blade to meet the boy's swing, it nearly
knocked him off balance, the intense rumble of the block shaking
his entire body. He recovered quickly and swung again, this time a
low slice aimed at the man's feet. With complete serenity, he leapt
into the air, the blow missing him by nearly six inches, while
Apophous's weapon scraped and hissed as it swiped the metal
mesh floor of the enormous, open room, leaving a long, black sear
across it. The man made no attempt to fight back. He was
wearing his opponent down, although he had the complete
dominance even when he was at full strength. Again, Apophous
swung. Straight upward this time, and much harder, in an
endeavor to knock his fighter's weapon out of the way long
enough to get a clear shot at his stomach. A mistake. As he was
bringing his Lightsaber around for the hit, his adversary
recovered much faster than he assumed, and with a painful,
burning swipe, left a four inch burn on his left shoulder blade.
Apophous did not fall to the ground. There was no blood, it wasn't
even a serious burn. Apophous, along with the man he was
fighting, pressed a small button on the handle of his weapon, and
the energy blade disappeared back into where it came from. It
was not a full strength, Jedi knight saber Apophous had been
struck by, for if it was, Apophous would no longer have a left arm.
He was being trained as a Sith. The former terrorist fighting him
had no intentions to kill him, this was merely a simulation
battle. His name was Chicharious, a Sith lord, whom Apophous
looked up to almost like a father figure. His broze hair was short
and pressed back, and a braid hung from above each ear down to
where his jaw ended, while three more hung down past his neck
from the back of his head. He wore the same strange cross
shaped armor, colored dark gray and black, that he had on when
he found Apophous in a drab cave four years ago. The long, dark
scar still marked his right cheek. His clothes were dark gray with
yellow stripes outlining his arms and legs, and he wore black
shoulderpads with a long, yellow cape draping down to his shin
from the left side. He had pale blue eyes that seemed to glow in
the dark room. Apophous was slim, but small for
his age. He wore a black training vest, his jet black hair was
shaved short, and his eyes dark brown. Chicharious walked
slowly over to his apprentice and put both of his large hands on
his shoulders.
"You must slow down, and concentrate. You must plan your
next move according to your opponent's weak points." The deep
and powerful voice had not changed. He always spoke slowly,
unlike his apprentice who would sometimes react very fast.
"Yes, master." He replied respectfully. He was ceaselessly
fascinated by what his master had to say. He could imagine all of
the knowledge he was obtaining from a man with so many
experiences. At first, Apophous disliked the idea of calling this
repulsive scum who he thought had killed his parents master, and
it took him roughly a year to adjust, but when he encountered the
fact that this man was his only way of surviving, he was ensured
he could adapt. Despite what many would think, Chicharious was
not a man for the Empire, and unequivocally not for the republic,
at least, what remained of the republic. He hated them all. He
believed in one thing, and that was that he should worry about no
one but himself and his apprentice. He promised himself that he
would never, in any way, put himself in a situation where he would
have to be under any living being, no matter how powerful. But
Chicharious was not overconfident. He knew that someone, or
something out there would be able to over-take him, although he
had not discovered it yet. Actually, he was a very serene and
understanding man. Of course, that would be hard to believe,
considering that he was a terrorists for two years. He now
meticulously regretted his decision to become a terrorist, one that
he made after being in a plight much like Apophous'. The thing
that happened hurt and disconcerted him. He decided to prove to
himself, and any one else who may have doubted it, that he could
do anything he wanted, and mistaked self-esteem with foolishness.
He could now see that, and after a year of being a terrorist,
decided that he wanted out. But where was there to go? He hated
the missions the terrorists sent him on, and thought that they were
cruel and heartless, which they were, but there was no where else
to turn. He had pity for the good, and thought that there was no
point in killing innocent people. When he was a boy, he also was
trained as a Sith. His master, Nelzonan Xsirocx, trained him to
be an evil, cold blooded killer, but Chicharious thought much
contrarily than her, and was going to be discerning in what he
taught Apophous. Chicharious wanted so badly to leave the
terrorists, and when he found Apophous, he made the decision to
take him on as an apprentice. The first thought that came to
Chicharious' mind when Apophous first told him his name in
that cocky, non fearing tone was, "This could be fun....".Chicharious
constantly craved an arduous challenge,
and it was obvious that training a headstrong, egotistic teenager would help
fulfill that craving. He
backed leisurely away from Apophous, brought up his Lightsaber,
and ignited it. "You will try again." Apophous moaned. Sweat
dripped from his forehead as he reluctantly and languidly readied
for combat. Chicharious was first to attack this time, his humming
weapon aimed at Apophous' chest. He could have blocked it
easily, but instead of doing so, he leapt straight backwards to
elude it. Before Chicharious could even give Apophous a
frustrated look, he bounded forward with his lightsaber held
straight out in front of him in a jabbing technique. Chicharious
made his move just in time, swiping the weapon away right before
it hit him. Again, before Chicharious could respond, Apophous
took a seris swings. Left, right, left, down, and all with one hand,
much like fincing. He used another burst of speed as Chicharious
began to take a swing, and again locked him in defense. But when
Chicharious finally did get his two seconds to attack, Apophous
briskly side-stepped, brought his saber around, and pretty much
wacked him in the side with it. "Good!" Exclaimed Chicharious.
"Your speed will be a great asset in combat. I suggest you use it."
Apophous was honored to hear his master complement him, and
Chicharious knew that pointing out his good points would do
much more for him than being angry at him for his weak ones.
"That's enough combat training for tonight, Apophous. You can
go to your sleeping quarters." A disgruntled look invaded
Apophous' face. "But....but master, you promised I could go see
Zea after combat. I haven't seen him for almost two weeks,"
Apophous spoke quickly, a tone of frustration in his voice.
"You can spend time with Zealotos tomorrow. I'm afraid that you
must learn that discipline and patience are more worthy of your
time than that boy. You're immensely lucky I even let you see the
boy. He's nothing more than a rebel, Apophous. I could be much
more strict. My master would never have allowed such a thing." Apophous was
about to protest, but the look on Chicharious' face told him that he
wasn't kidding, and Apophous did not feel as if it would be worth
it. He stammered wearily to his room, where he hooked his
Lightsaber on the wall, too tired to do his exercises. He turned a
small knob which dimmed the lights and laid down on his blanket
covered wooden bed built in to the wall in the corner of the large
room, staring up at the ceiling. Today had been work, tommorow
will be fun.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Apophous shielded his eyes from the bright sun of Yavin IV as
the two huge metal doors of the giant, domed temple made of blue
iron slid open and the bright light of late morning shown down
across the valley and onto Apophous. The temple, made up of
seven giant towers, each with their own purpose, was built by
Massassi slaves in honor of the Sith lord Exar Kun thousands of
years ago, and was now called home by Apophous and his
master. The towers were not extremely wide, but were incredibly
tall, the tallest reaching 3,000 feet into the atmosphere. It stood
radiantly at the edge of a canyon still being formed by a wide,
slow running river that traveled through the many wooded areas
of the moon and around the encompassing tree-covered
mountains. Apophous strode elatedly across the magnificent
bridge giving passage across the canyon, full of eagerness that he
was finally on his way to see his only friend, 17 year old Zealotos,
who lived outside of a not too distant city. The small journey to
the port would be quite tiring for a normal human, but Apophous
was proficient, and it took him less than a standard hour. First he
had to travel through two miles of wooded area, cross a small
river, and then follow a trail directly to Zealotos' large stone home.
After Apophous had traveled through the thick woods for nearly a
mile, he heard the familiar hum of the motor of a distant Swoop, a
speeder bike like vehicle used by gangs on the remote desert
planet of Tatooine. He froze in his steps to listen, his eyes
twitching back and forth. The person riding it seemed to have no
set destination, Apophous could hear it swerving through the
trees, and instead of readying his weapon in case there was a
threat, he just chuckled and calmly climbed a tree so he could get
a better view. The sound became louder and louder, yet
Apophous just sat, as if hiding from prey. Apophous could now
see the vehicle jerking swiftly around the purple barked massassi
trees,the rider's waist length hair blowing in the wind, and now did
arm himself with his Lightsaber, the swoop
rider still unaware of his presence. The swoop was headed right
underneath the tree Apophous sat in, and after it had passed
straight under him, he leapt from the tree, his Lightsaber ignited,
beside the fact that it was a non deadly, low powered training
weapon. The dark blond haired swoop rider heard him land on
the forest floor, and made a wide U-turn.
"Ha ha! prepare to die, coward!" Came ecstatic yells as the
swoop sped straight towards Apophous. But Apophous stood still.
He didn't make the slightest movement, with the exception of his
elated grin. The speeder swerved to a stop two meters away from
him. The boy riding it, probably in his upper teens, un-sheathed a
long sword he was carrying on his back, the straps holding it
criss-crossing his chest. He walked up to Apophous, stared him in
the face, yanked his Lightsaber out of his hand and tossed it flintly
to the ground. He was two or three inches taller than him, and
wore a beige tunic with many pouches and satchels attached to it.He
had two long braids tied with the golden back hair of a
woolamander resting on his shoulders,
and also had extensive lengths of rope and chain hanging from the
pockets of his loose cargo pants, which made him look like a rugged, combat
ready native hunting for food. He wrapped one of his sturdy arms
around Apophous' neck, and pressed the tip of his sword daintily
upon his chin.
"Any last words?" He said grimly, with a solid look in his eyes.
Apophous did not fight. He did not struggle. The only movement
sensed in him was his quick buoyant smirk.
"Good to see you, Zea." He said unwaveringly, the smile
remaining. The assailant, 17 year old Zealotos, dropped him,
smiled, and nodded.
"Likewise," He said as he re-sheathed his sword. Unexpectedly,
he brought his left arm around behind Apophous and backhanded
him upside the head. Before Apophous could respond, he was
stumbling forward in pain.
"Ow! What was that for?"
"Thanks for telling me you were going to be gone for two
weeks!"
He snapped back as Apophous rubbed the back of his flailed
head.
"It's not my fault. Chicharious wouldn't let me come, he says
training's more important." Apophous was still rubbing his head
when Zealotos re-mounted his swoop and started it's engine.
"Hurry up," He said, patting the seat.
"Where are we going?" Asked Apophous as he too mounted the
vehicle.
"Town. I'm going to pawn my speeder."
Apophous' eyes broadened wider than physically possible.
"Your speeder! Why? Are you kidding?" Apophous was given a
blank stare.
"Of course I'm kidding!" Said Zealotos.
"I'm just going to stock up on food, you know, maybe play a
couple games of cards," Now Zealotos was given a blank stare.
"What?"
Silence.
"Fine, no gambling."
Now satisfied, Apophous grabbed a hold of Zealotos' belt, and
hung on.....tightly.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Zealotos sauntered through the desolate streets of Ashytakkah
as Apophous strolled a few feet behind, observing the mansion
style strutures and unusual alien specis of peculuir languages
standing around them. The buildings were hundreds of years old, unlike the community,
who migrated to the town merely two decades ago.
A heavy unwelcome feeling seemed to
pollute the air. The friends were given boorish looks, sneers and stares of ridicule by the
citizens of the town, who cleary didn't like outsiders.
Zealotos, obviously offended, made harassing faces at anyone
who gave him an unwanted look. He reached a
bend in the road, and turned it only to be standing eye level with
an enormous gray stomach. He frettingy shifted his gaze upward,
again, an unlovely sight. There, with a look of pure rapture, stood
Pletom Tikkel, an alien trader that often dwelled in the small bar
of the town. Zealotos knew why this perticular alien looked so
pleased to run in to him, and he wished emmensly that he was
wrong.
"Umm....hi." Came the frail greeting in a tone of question from
Zealotos' shivering lips. He even managed to weakly raise his
hand for a quick wave of his fingers. The alien was clearly
restraining himself from laughter, a wide smile beginning to
appear.
"[I think you owe me some money, boy.]" He said in Huttese.
Pletom's grubby hand wrapped tightly around Zealotos' neck and
lifted him up to the alien's rough face.
"[You know, I don't like people who cheat. You would never
cheat me, would you?]" He said quietly, still speaking Huttese, his
ruthless grin becoming wider. Zealotos shook his head nervously.
"N..n..no....no sir." He stammered. He knew that this alien brute
was quite aware that he had cheated him out of money. Pletom's
smile dissapeared. He yanked Zealotos so close that the two's
eyes were merely two inches apart.
"I don't like liars, either." He hissed, now speaking basic.
Zealotos prepared himself for the extreme pain to come as
Pletom's hand progressd backwards for the powerful blow. All
this time, Apophous had stood helplessly silent to the side, but his
friend was about to be beat perfusley by a giant barbarian, and
could no longer restrain himself.
"Stop!" He yelled. Pletom turned to look at the boy puzzledly.
"Leave..." Apophous cut himself off as the alien loosened his
grip on Zealotos, who quickly dropped to take Apophous' side.
"Him....alone." Apophous had force the words out of his mouth,
for Pletom now stood directly in front of him, the creature's
towering structure seeming much larger and brutal up close.
Pletom could do nothing but laugh, making him seem all the more
cruel and heartless.
"[So, you want to help out your little friend, your buddy? You do
know that he's a theif, right?]" Apophous now found himself
dangling above ground powerlessly, gasping for air. Pletom
cackled mockingly and shook his head.
"[But, if you want to help out a common criminal, you could
alway, well, take the rap for them.]"
"Apophous! Your saber! Your saber!" Yelled Zealotos excitedly,
waving his his arms back and forth, harnessing himself from
jumping up and down. Apophous was able to stretch his hand out
far enough to get two fingers underneath his lightsaber, which was
hanging loosely by a twine attached to his belt. He thrust his hand
upward which sent his weapon airborn in Zealotos' direction in
hopes that he would catch it. Zea had to make a run a few yards
backwards and then leap off the ground to snatched it out of mid
air. Once he had a good grip of weapon, he ignited it and darted
behind Pletom. The alien's dark eyes widened and he sprung into
the air as the hot blade singed his breech. Apophous leaped from
the clutches of the ruffian and began clawing at the ground, trying
desperetly to escape. He continued his mad clawing until he
realized that he wasn't going anywhere. He slowly turned to look
behind him, dreading what he was about to see. Pletom Tikkel's
huge foot was pressing firmly down on his cloak, preventing him
from moving. Apophous watched in terror as the giant foot lifted
off of his cloak and above his head. The last thing that he
remembered before he was knocked unconsious was the bottom
of a dark boot about to smash down on his face.
Summary: A young boy's destiny is changed when he is taken on as a Sith apprentice by a former terrorist.
Rating: PG (for violence and junk)
Disclaimer thingy: Do I really have to have one of these disclaimer
things? Anyway, everyone knows that I, Master Dash Rendar, do not
own Star Wars. George does. BUT, I do own all of the characters in this story,
except Katie Zecli and Antooanna, and for that I thank Genius writer Seth N. Jones.
Unless by chance I end up mentioning the existence of a copywrited Star Wars character, I own them! (but I couldn't care less if you used them in your stories)
And I'm making no, zero, jack squat in cash from this semi creative book (darn).
Thanks: I would like to thank my mom and dad....I don't know how they helped me with this story, but it just seems like the right thing to do. I want to thank my friend, Kat, who truly inspired me to write this with her own stories and always encouraged me. And I want to thank two friends, let's just cal them "Apophous" and "Chicharious". They created those characters. Well, they actually just created the names, so when I heard them, I grabbed them and ran. And of course, thank you, George.
Author's note: I'm new at this fan fic thing. But I'll tell you one thing,
the Apophous series doesn't end with "Transparent mind".
Look forward to seeing my next story, labeled "With Darkness Comes Silence"
Please Review! Please!
STAR WARS
APOPHOUS
TRANSPARENT MIND
Prologue
"Something's not right...." A young human boy with pitch black hair
froze. His strong senses spoke to him, and when they did, they
were never ignored. It was clear, yet faded at the same time. He
could not pin-point this specific feeling, it was something he had
never experienced before.
Normally, no excitement or activity
occured in the the small, low technology village of Ach'oda, a
settlement in a remote area of the planet Antooanna. But he was
not in the village at the time, he was target shooting in the woods
with his brand new, low powered bowcaster. The primitive
weapon was a gift from his father, Melchizedek. Giving gifts was
not a regularly practiced ritual for the poor family, but this, being
the boy's fourteenth birthday, was considered a worthy occasion.
Strangely,
at fourteen, the boy had been considered an adult for two years, for the
method of time telling was much different on Antooanna than the standard form.
The youth was capable of sensing things that would normally
surpass his friends and family, revealing that he had a highly
developed awareness of the force. He re-holstered his weapon, for
the strange alertness that rippled through his mind sent his heart
pounding. His dark eyes moved slowly back and forth as he tried
to grasp the emotion, but it was too faint. All that his senses told
him was that there was fear and panic among his family, and a
sudden concern of what may be happening surged through his
body.
He turned to face the direction of his home, and panicked
when he saw a dark cloud of smoke rising above the trees. He
stood motionless for a few seconds, petrified from shock. When
he came to his senses, he bagan running as fast as he was
capable, unconsious of anything else. As he neared his home, he
could smell and almost taste the dense smoke hanging in the air.
He nearly passed out as he parted the tall grass to see his home,
along with the entire residence, egulfed in flames. Adrenaline
flooded and he charged inside his inflamed household, prepared to
do anything to save his parents. It took him only seconds to
search his small home to find that they were not there. He burst
out the door, the smoke begining to take affect. He trembled from
confusion and fear. He hadn't the slightest conception of what
may have happened during the half hour that he was gone, but
was too terrified to care. A quick vision flashed in front of his
eyes. He remembered a time when he was young when a huge
and powerful storm hit his villiage, and he and his mother and
father, along with many others, evacuated their homes to spend
the night in a neighbor's cellar, actually an underground cave, for
cover from the dangerous weather. He felt urged to go there.
Again, he ran. He was overjoyed when he saw some of his
father's work hands assisting people into the cellar. When Karnaa
Graunn, an Antooannian friend of the boy's parents saw him, he
motioned him to come closer.
"Where are your father and mother?" He asked, the dark green
crystal in his forehead reflecting the glow of the spreading fire. His
already dark skin was tinted from the black smoke.
"I don't know! What's happening?"
The boy was given a sideways look.
"What do you mean? Weren't....weren't you at home with your
parents?"
"I was...but I took...I took my new blaster in the woods....but...but
when I got back my house was burning down...." The boy was
now shaking intensesly and tears of confusion were welling up in
his eyes. "Who...did this?" Karnaa sighed loudly. He bent over, his
long, glistening wings still reaching two meters above the ground.
His green eyes were focused in on boys dark brown eyes. He
began slowly, hoping to calm the disconcerted young man.
"The town was overrun by the Schiyan earlier,"
"What? The Schiyan? What's..."
"Terrorists. They're terrorists."
The boy stumbled backwards, shaking his head in disbelief.
"I...don't understand...." Said the boy slowly.
"Neither do I, but we have to stay here." The man spoke very
soft, for he too was frightened. The teenager nodded languidly. He
found himself sitting in the corner of dark, wet cellar. And there he
sat for hours upon hours with the other homeless citizens of the
town. He tortured himself with his own thoughts, and finally came
to the conclusion that his parents were dead. He stared past the
sleeping residents at the dull wall. Sudenly, light flooded the room
as a tall man burst through the door.
"Get out! Everyone! Now! Now!" The man led the panicked
Antooannians across the room to a small tunnel, leading to
another exit. The boy sat. Of course, the evacuaters were too
rushed to do a headcount, and the boy was left sitting willingly
alone in the cave. Everyone was gone. The terrorists neared, but
he didn't care. He would have killed himself earlier, but he had no
effecient weapon. The light from the open door was blocked
momentarily by the outlines of huge men and aliens entering the
room. There were humans, there were Grans, there were
Qaurrens and Twi'leks, most of them species that the boy had
never heared of. There were at least a dozen of them, which, to
the boy, didn't seem like enough to burn an entire town to the
ground and scare away it's entire inhabitance. A tall, bald human
man wearing an ammunition vest and camoflauge attire
approached him, picked him up by the collar of his faded brown
shirt, lifted his dagger above his head, and prepared to do away
with him.
"He's only a boy," Came a deep, hardy voice from a tall,
muscular man standing behind him. The terrorist nearly flinched
when he heard the voice The powerful man wore no shirt, but
strange X shaped armor. A long, yellow cape hung from his left
shoulder pad, and a long scar marked the entire right side of his
face. The bald man dropped the boy and backed slowly away as
the man wearing the strange armor approached him.
"What is your name, boy?" Came again the deep, strong voice.
The teenager looked sternly up to the man, showing he feared
nothing from him, not even death.
"My name, is Apophous."
Chapter I
The 18 year old Apophous never imagined that he would be
locked in combat, let alone Lightsaber combat, with the man who
took him off the forsaken planet Antooanna, and in his mind
saved his life. Apophous was now a well built boy, muscular, fast,
and wise, but the mysterious dark haired man he was fighting,
standing seven feet tall and able to shove his unprotected fist
through a metal wall, obviously had the advantage in Lightsaber
combat. It had been four well spent years from the time that the
powerful man, once a terrorist, reeked havoc throughout the
galaxy. There he stood, half a meter away from Apophous, in a
professional combat stance, and although Apophous was not
capable of handling his full strength attacks, he was clearly
prepared for anything the boy could throw at him, he himself also
holding a small metal tube with a glowing blade of yellow light
reaching five feet from beginning to end. Apophous glared tensely
into the eyes of his adequate opponent, and squeezed his
Lightsaber, glowing pure white, tightly. The two opponents were
like shadows, their dark frames circling an endless oval in the
center of an immensely huge iron plated floor. The force was
there, but it's scource was uncertain. Apophous wiped the sweat
from his forehead, and his heavy breathing ceased. His weary
expression turned violent. His gloved hands gripped the ancient
weapon even tighter. He very suddenly and ery abruptly took a
powerful swing at the man's right hip, and when he swiftly and
powerfully brought his blade to meet the boy's swing, it nearly
knocked him off balance, the intense rumble of the block shaking
his entire body. He recovered quickly and swung again, this time a
low slice aimed at the man's feet. With complete serenity, he leapt
into the air, the blow missing him by nearly six inches, while
Apophous's weapon scraped and hissed as it swiped the metal
mesh floor of the enormous, open room, leaving a long, black sear
across it. The man made no attempt to fight back. He was
wearing his opponent down, although he had the complete
dominance even when he was at full strength. Again, Apophous
swung. Straight upward this time, and much harder, in an
endeavor to knock his fighter's weapon out of the way long
enough to get a clear shot at his stomach. A mistake. As he was
bringing his Lightsaber around for the hit, his adversary
recovered much faster than he assumed, and with a painful,
burning swipe, left a four inch burn on his left shoulder blade.
Apophous did not fall to the ground. There was no blood, it wasn't
even a serious burn. Apophous, along with the man he was
fighting, pressed a small button on the handle of his weapon, and
the energy blade disappeared back into where it came from. It
was not a full strength, Jedi knight saber Apophous had been
struck by, for if it was, Apophous would no longer have a left arm.
He was being trained as a Sith. The former terrorist fighting him
had no intentions to kill him, this was merely a simulation
battle. His name was Chicharious, a Sith lord, whom Apophous
looked up to almost like a father figure. His broze hair was short
and pressed back, and a braid hung from above each ear down to
where his jaw ended, while three more hung down past his neck
from the back of his head. He wore the same strange cross
shaped armor, colored dark gray and black, that he had on when
he found Apophous in a drab cave four years ago. The long, dark
scar still marked his right cheek. His clothes were dark gray with
yellow stripes outlining his arms and legs, and he wore black
shoulderpads with a long, yellow cape draping down to his shin
from the left side. He had pale blue eyes that seemed to glow in
the dark room. Apophous was slim, but small for
his age. He wore a black training vest, his jet black hair was
shaved short, and his eyes dark brown. Chicharious walked
slowly over to his apprentice and put both of his large hands on
his shoulders.
"You must slow down, and concentrate. You must plan your
next move according to your opponent's weak points." The deep
and powerful voice had not changed. He always spoke slowly,
unlike his apprentice who would sometimes react very fast.
"Yes, master." He replied respectfully. He was ceaselessly
fascinated by what his master had to say. He could imagine all of
the knowledge he was obtaining from a man with so many
experiences. At first, Apophous disliked the idea of calling this
repulsive scum who he thought had killed his parents master, and
it took him roughly a year to adjust, but when he encountered the
fact that this man was his only way of surviving, he was ensured
he could adapt. Despite what many would think, Chicharious was
not a man for the Empire, and unequivocally not for the republic,
at least, what remained of the republic. He hated them all. He
believed in one thing, and that was that he should worry about no
one but himself and his apprentice. He promised himself that he
would never, in any way, put himself in a situation where he would
have to be under any living being, no matter how powerful. But
Chicharious was not overconfident. He knew that someone, or
something out there would be able to over-take him, although he
had not discovered it yet. Actually, he was a very serene and
understanding man. Of course, that would be hard to believe,
considering that he was a terrorists for two years. He now
meticulously regretted his decision to become a terrorist, one that
he made after being in a plight much like Apophous'. The thing
that happened hurt and disconcerted him. He decided to prove to
himself, and any one else who may have doubted it, that he could
do anything he wanted, and mistaked self-esteem with foolishness.
He could now see that, and after a year of being a terrorist,
decided that he wanted out. But where was there to go? He hated
the missions the terrorists sent him on, and thought that they were
cruel and heartless, which they were, but there was no where else
to turn. He had pity for the good, and thought that there was no
point in killing innocent people. When he was a boy, he also was
trained as a Sith. His master, Nelzonan Xsirocx, trained him to
be an evil, cold blooded killer, but Chicharious thought much
contrarily than her, and was going to be discerning in what he
taught Apophous. Chicharious wanted so badly to leave the
terrorists, and when he found Apophous, he made the decision to
take him on as an apprentice. The first thought that came to
Chicharious' mind when Apophous first told him his name in
that cocky, non fearing tone was, "This could be fun....".Chicharious
constantly craved an arduous challenge,
and it was obvious that training a headstrong, egotistic teenager would help
fulfill that craving. He
backed leisurely away from Apophous, brought up his Lightsaber,
and ignited it. "You will try again." Apophous moaned. Sweat
dripped from his forehead as he reluctantly and languidly readied
for combat. Chicharious was first to attack this time, his humming
weapon aimed at Apophous' chest. He could have blocked it
easily, but instead of doing so, he leapt straight backwards to
elude it. Before Chicharious could even give Apophous a
frustrated look, he bounded forward with his lightsaber held
straight out in front of him in a jabbing technique. Chicharious
made his move just in time, swiping the weapon away right before
it hit him. Again, before Chicharious could respond, Apophous
took a seris swings. Left, right, left, down, and all with one hand,
much like fincing. He used another burst of speed as Chicharious
began to take a swing, and again locked him in defense. But when
Chicharious finally did get his two seconds to attack, Apophous
briskly side-stepped, brought his saber around, and pretty much
wacked him in the side with it. "Good!" Exclaimed Chicharious.
"Your speed will be a great asset in combat. I suggest you use it."
Apophous was honored to hear his master complement him, and
Chicharious knew that pointing out his good points would do
much more for him than being angry at him for his weak ones.
"That's enough combat training for tonight, Apophous. You can
go to your sleeping quarters." A disgruntled look invaded
Apophous' face. "But....but master, you promised I could go see
Zea after combat. I haven't seen him for almost two weeks,"
Apophous spoke quickly, a tone of frustration in his voice.
"You can spend time with Zealotos tomorrow. I'm afraid that you
must learn that discipline and patience are more worthy of your
time than that boy. You're immensely lucky I even let you see the
boy. He's nothing more than a rebel, Apophous. I could be much
more strict. My master would never have allowed such a thing." Apophous was
about to protest, but the look on Chicharious' face told him that he
wasn't kidding, and Apophous did not feel as if it would be worth
it. He stammered wearily to his room, where he hooked his
Lightsaber on the wall, too tired to do his exercises. He turned a
small knob which dimmed the lights and laid down on his blanket
covered wooden bed built in to the wall in the corner of the large
room, staring up at the ceiling. Today had been work, tommorow
will be fun.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Apophous shielded his eyes from the bright sun of Yavin IV as
the two huge metal doors of the giant, domed temple made of blue
iron slid open and the bright light of late morning shown down
across the valley and onto Apophous. The temple, made up of
seven giant towers, each with their own purpose, was built by
Massassi slaves in honor of the Sith lord Exar Kun thousands of
years ago, and was now called home by Apophous and his
master. The towers were not extremely wide, but were incredibly
tall, the tallest reaching 3,000 feet into the atmosphere. It stood
radiantly at the edge of a canyon still being formed by a wide,
slow running river that traveled through the many wooded areas
of the moon and around the encompassing tree-covered
mountains. Apophous strode elatedly across the magnificent
bridge giving passage across the canyon, full of eagerness that he
was finally on his way to see his only friend, 17 year old Zealotos,
who lived outside of a not too distant city. The small journey to
the port would be quite tiring for a normal human, but Apophous
was proficient, and it took him less than a standard hour. First he
had to travel through two miles of wooded area, cross a small
river, and then follow a trail directly to Zealotos' large stone home.
After Apophous had traveled through the thick woods for nearly a
mile, he heard the familiar hum of the motor of a distant Swoop, a
speeder bike like vehicle used by gangs on the remote desert
planet of Tatooine. He froze in his steps to listen, his eyes
twitching back and forth. The person riding it seemed to have no
set destination, Apophous could hear it swerving through the
trees, and instead of readying his weapon in case there was a
threat, he just chuckled and calmly climbed a tree so he could get
a better view. The sound became louder and louder, yet
Apophous just sat, as if hiding from prey. Apophous could now
see the vehicle jerking swiftly around the purple barked massassi
trees,the rider's waist length hair blowing in the wind, and now did
arm himself with his Lightsaber, the swoop
rider still unaware of his presence. The swoop was headed right
underneath the tree Apophous sat in, and after it had passed
straight under him, he leapt from the tree, his Lightsaber ignited,
beside the fact that it was a non deadly, low powered training
weapon. The dark blond haired swoop rider heard him land on
the forest floor, and made a wide U-turn.
"Ha ha! prepare to die, coward!" Came ecstatic yells as the
swoop sped straight towards Apophous. But Apophous stood still.
He didn't make the slightest movement, with the exception of his
elated grin. The speeder swerved to a stop two meters away from
him. The boy riding it, probably in his upper teens, un-sheathed a
long sword he was carrying on his back, the straps holding it
criss-crossing his chest. He walked up to Apophous, stared him in
the face, yanked his Lightsaber out of his hand and tossed it flintly
to the ground. He was two or three inches taller than him, and
wore a beige tunic with many pouches and satchels attached to it.He
had two long braids tied with the golden back hair of a
woolamander resting on his shoulders,
and also had extensive lengths of rope and chain hanging from the
pockets of his loose cargo pants, which made him look like a rugged, combat
ready native hunting for food. He wrapped one of his sturdy arms
around Apophous' neck, and pressed the tip of his sword daintily
upon his chin.
"Any last words?" He said grimly, with a solid look in his eyes.
Apophous did not fight. He did not struggle. The only movement
sensed in him was his quick buoyant smirk.
"Good to see you, Zea." He said unwaveringly, the smile
remaining. The assailant, 17 year old Zealotos, dropped him,
smiled, and nodded.
"Likewise," He said as he re-sheathed his sword. Unexpectedly,
he brought his left arm around behind Apophous and backhanded
him upside the head. Before Apophous could respond, he was
stumbling forward in pain.
"Ow! What was that for?"
"Thanks for telling me you were going to be gone for two
weeks!"
He snapped back as Apophous rubbed the back of his flailed
head.
"It's not my fault. Chicharious wouldn't let me come, he says
training's more important." Apophous was still rubbing his head
when Zealotos re-mounted his swoop and started it's engine.
"Hurry up," He said, patting the seat.
"Where are we going?" Asked Apophous as he too mounted the
vehicle.
"Town. I'm going to pawn my speeder."
Apophous' eyes broadened wider than physically possible.
"Your speeder! Why? Are you kidding?" Apophous was given a
blank stare.
"Of course I'm kidding!" Said Zealotos.
"I'm just going to stock up on food, you know, maybe play a
couple games of cards," Now Zealotos was given a blank stare.
"What?"
Silence.
"Fine, no gambling."
Now satisfied, Apophous grabbed a hold of Zealotos' belt, and
hung on.....tightly.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Zealotos sauntered through the desolate streets of Ashytakkah
as Apophous strolled a few feet behind, observing the mansion
style strutures and unusual alien specis of peculuir languages
standing around them. The buildings were hundreds of years old, unlike the community,
who migrated to the town merely two decades ago.
A heavy unwelcome feeling seemed to
pollute the air. The friends were given boorish looks, sneers and stares of ridicule by the
citizens of the town, who cleary didn't like outsiders.
Zealotos, obviously offended, made harassing faces at anyone
who gave him an unwanted look. He reached a
bend in the road, and turned it only to be standing eye level with
an enormous gray stomach. He frettingy shifted his gaze upward,
again, an unlovely sight. There, with a look of pure rapture, stood
Pletom Tikkel, an alien trader that often dwelled in the small bar
of the town. Zealotos knew why this perticular alien looked so
pleased to run in to him, and he wished emmensly that he was
wrong.
"Umm....hi." Came the frail greeting in a tone of question from
Zealotos' shivering lips. He even managed to weakly raise his
hand for a quick wave of his fingers. The alien was clearly
restraining himself from laughter, a wide smile beginning to
appear.
"[I think you owe me some money, boy.]" He said in Huttese.
Pletom's grubby hand wrapped tightly around Zealotos' neck and
lifted him up to the alien's rough face.
"[You know, I don't like people who cheat. You would never
cheat me, would you?]" He said quietly, still speaking Huttese, his
ruthless grin becoming wider. Zealotos shook his head nervously.
"N..n..no....no sir." He stammered. He knew that this alien brute
was quite aware that he had cheated him out of money. Pletom's
smile dissapeared. He yanked Zealotos so close that the two's
eyes were merely two inches apart.
"I don't like liars, either." He hissed, now speaking basic.
Zealotos prepared himself for the extreme pain to come as
Pletom's hand progressd backwards for the powerful blow. All
this time, Apophous had stood helplessly silent to the side, but his
friend was about to be beat perfusley by a giant barbarian, and
could no longer restrain himself.
"Stop!" He yelled. Pletom turned to look at the boy puzzledly.
"Leave..." Apophous cut himself off as the alien loosened his
grip on Zealotos, who quickly dropped to take Apophous' side.
"Him....alone." Apophous had force the words out of his mouth,
for Pletom now stood directly in front of him, the creature's
towering structure seeming much larger and brutal up close.
Pletom could do nothing but laugh, making him seem all the more
cruel and heartless.
"[So, you want to help out your little friend, your buddy? You do
know that he's a theif, right?]" Apophous now found himself
dangling above ground powerlessly, gasping for air. Pletom
cackled mockingly and shook his head.
"[But, if you want to help out a common criminal, you could
alway, well, take the rap for them.]"
"Apophous! Your saber! Your saber!" Yelled Zealotos excitedly,
waving his his arms back and forth, harnessing himself from
jumping up and down. Apophous was able to stretch his hand out
far enough to get two fingers underneath his lightsaber, which was
hanging loosely by a twine attached to his belt. He thrust his hand
upward which sent his weapon airborn in Zealotos' direction in
hopes that he would catch it. Zea had to make a run a few yards
backwards and then leap off the ground to snatched it out of mid
air. Once he had a good grip of weapon, he ignited it and darted
behind Pletom. The alien's dark eyes widened and he sprung into
the air as the hot blade singed his breech. Apophous leaped from
the clutches of the ruffian and began clawing at the ground, trying
desperetly to escape. He continued his mad clawing until he
realized that he wasn't going anywhere. He slowly turned to look
behind him, dreading what he was about to see. Pletom Tikkel's
huge foot was pressing firmly down on his cloak, preventing him
from moving. Apophous watched in terror as the giant foot lifted
off of his cloak and above his head. The last thing that he
remembered before he was knocked unconsious was the bottom
of a dark boot about to smash down on his face.