Star Wars: Infinities – The Apprentice

Chapter 10

By: Christopher W. Blaine (darth_yoshi@yahoo.com)

DISCLAIMER: The characters and situations contained in this story are used without permission for non-profit entertainment purposes only and are ©2002 by George Lucas. This story (pertaining to this chapter and all subsequent chapters) is ©2002 by Christopher W. Blaine and may not be reproduced in any form, except hard printouts for personal enjoyment, without the express permission of the author.

Padme Neberrie Amidala stared out of the viewport of Seinar Type-10 cruiser that moved ever closer to the fleet that surrounded the brown-green world of Dathomir, wondering if Anakin could sense her presence. Did love alter the way the Force flowed between two individuals? Was it truly love she was feeling now, or was something she had always felt and then denied herself?

She stifled a laugh as she remembered a little boy with sun-bleached hair and enough attitude for five Republic senators and how he had confessed his fears of the future and his knowledge that they were destined to be together. At the time, she thought it ridiculous, her with the lost little slave-boy, but time and maturity had made her understand. The universe was a chaotic, ridiculous place where boys were made into slaves and little girls were made queens. It was a place where the Jedi lied about their intentions and the Sith rescued the downtrodden from criminal syndicates.

She felt the stirring deep within her, something uncivil and certainly unladylike and she relished the feeling. Never before had she felt such desire to be with someone, not like the way she envisioned the closeness her and Anakin would share. They were more than just star-crossed lovers, they were destined for each other and destiny was calling her name.

It had taken Anakin's black and white view of the universe to open her eyes to what needed to be done to save the galaxy, to keep it from falling in on itself. Unlike the Jedi, who kept their opinions to themselves and tried to work from the shadows, Anakin had jumped feet first into the problems of the Republic. Only the truth would bring order, and political correctness be damned!

She would think back to how she would fawn over delegates from other systems, trying to appease them because she had been taught that perceptions were what made the engines of government run. Anakin had laughed. "What good is being polite when you are a slave? What good are manners when your people are being exploited? What did decorum do for Naboo when the Trade Federation invaded?" he had asked her.

Then, just before she had left, Chancellor Palpatine had walked with her to the ship. "My dear, it is time that we stopped trying to please everyone. By doing so, we allowed horrid crimes to be perpetuated against the Republic and I am not just talking about all of this Jedi nonsense. Did you not tell me yourself that the Trade Federation was let off too easily for what they had done to our world?" She had only nodded, suddenly aware of what a charismatic speaker her predecessor was when he wanted to be.

"I'm not calling for the destruction of any planet, race or way of life. I'm simply saying that the Republic will no longer tolerate poor behavior. Either the systems will fall into line and respect the other systems…"

"Or there should be consequences," she had replied. He had smiled, seeming so fatherly it had caught her off guard.

"It does my heart good to hear that you finally have seen the light. It wouldn't have anything to do with a certain young lord I am familiar with?"

She had blushed. "Is it that obvious? But no, he hasn't had any undue influence on me…he brings out in me the things I have long kept buried."

And now she was sailing towards a tropical planet to act on things she would never had talked about. Were her mother still alive, she would have admonished her for what she was about to do, saying that these were things for the married, not the love-struck. Padme smiled. "For the married…"

Lord Vader slammed hard into the tree, his teeth rattling from the blow and the sharp bark cut deeply into his exposed back. He winced in pain and felt the breath leave his lungs in an instant. Calling upon the Force, he refilled his lungs with air and leapt several meters into the air and over the lunging rancor.

Lord Maul was busying himself trying to get close enough to cut at the tendons and sinews of the powerful legs of the beast. It's heightened senses would detect the heat from the double-bladed lightsaber as Maul would approach and reflexes that seemed unnatural for such a large creature allowed it to turn in an instant and change from victim to hunter.

The red and black tattooed Sith Lord avoided a massive claw and a bite, but could not avoid the rancid breath of the creature. Even to someone like Darth Maul, the smell was noxious and he had to hold back the urge to vomit.

With a war cry, Vader was back in the air, whirling his silver lightsaber and landed on the back of the rancor. Plunging the weapon down into the animal's meaty back, Vader missed the backbone but was sure he punctured the lung. The rancor shrieked and Vader had to fight to maintain his balance as it shook with rage. Both Sith Lords could sense the primal anger the animal was giving off.

Maul, sensing the rancor was confused by it's ire, stepped in, spun his weapon and slashed through the toes on the left foot. Spinning around and bringing the opposite blade up, he cut deep into the calf muscle. The rancor snarled and spun; it was wounded but far from defeated.

Vader pulled out his lightsaber, the smell of cooked meat in the air and he started to go for a strike on the neck when the rancor managed to shake him off. He tumbled off of the back and onto the ground, where he rolled first one way then the other as the rancor attempted to stomp him into paste. He felt the Force acting upon him and he flew through the air and into a clearing several meters away. Darth Maul rushed in again now that he had removed his apprentice and sidestepped until he was under the rancor.

The creature stooped over and looked down; Maul grinned and cut into the soft belly. The abdomen split open, intestines and gore pouring out. It was a near lethal strike, but the rancor moved out of the way and Maul caught the very edge of a sweeping blow. The hit was strong enough that Maul staggered and then finally stumbled.

The wounded rancor seemed to smile, its teeth reflecting the setting sun as it moved into position. It's jaws snapped and it moved to pick up the fallen Darth Maul. Just as its mouth was about to reach the Dark Lord, its head stopped. Large eyes bulged and neck muscles strained as it tried to force its way through the unseen shield that seemed to keep it away from its prize.

Vader stepped out from behind a tree, his face red with anger and dripping hot sweat. He breathed slowly, focusing his hate into a tight beam and assumed control of the rancor's mind. He could feel the animal's bewilderment as it not only began to bleed out but it had also lost complete control of its body. Had it the facilities, it would know that it was about to die. However, because evolution had not allowed it to develop the ability for such complicated reasoning, it instead tried to thrash and lash out.

The sweat began to evaporate from Vader's body as the dark side cooled him and he concentrated in slowly collapsing the Force bubble that he had put around the rancor. After a few seconds, it began to feel the crushing weight of impeding death and the eyes filled with terror. Maul stirred and looked up then looked to Vader as he felt the Force suddenly burning like a forest fire around him.

"It is not possible," he whispered. Since the first day of training a decade before, he had been aware that his apprentice was very strong in the Force, but what he was feeling now was something new. He was using the Force to slowly, methodically kill the rancor, but he was also having it heal his wounds at the same time. Only Darth Sideous had ever displayed such ability.

The rancor sniffed and blood poured from it's nostrils, but it no longer moved. Vader twisted his head slightly and then caught something floating on the Force. It was sweet, like perfume and he looked up into the sky. "Padme…"

The Force hold was broken and the rancor moved forward, throwing its head from side to side and slinging blood onto the forest floor. Maul got up on one knee and called his lightsaber to his hand. His grip was not as sure and the rancor seemed to sense it. It lurched and then tumbled to the side, tongue hanging out. Maul dropped his lightsaber and reached up to his head. There was a deep gash.

Vader stood, his darkened features returning to normal, his left arm outstretched with a clenched fist. He smiled. "I guess we know who the master is now," he said.

Maul wondered as he got up whether his apprentice was speaking to the rancor…

…or to him.

Boggs Sunrider looked up at the twins suns of Tatooine and felt as if the fiery eyes of an angry god were staring down at him. His name was the same as some of the most noble Jedi Knights in all of history, but that was as far as his relationship with the Jedi went. Instead, he was the inheritor of a failed moisture farm and a large woman he had gotten pregnant after a night of binge drinking in one of Jabba the Hutt's drinking establishments.

He had longed hoped to stumble into a Sarlac Pit so he could spend a thousand years away from his misery, but it had yet to happen. Over the past few weeks, he had noticed a change in the way things were being run on the planet, especially here in Mos Espa. Then the Republic troops had arrived and kicked out Jabba's mercenaries that had suddenly taken up residence. He had wondered where Jabba himself was at, but it just didn't matter after the stormtroopers had gotten here.

Stormtroopers. That was a good name for them. He was proud that he had thought of it himself. They had come in like a white armored rainstorm and washed away the troubles of Tatooine. Now there was a military governor, Moff Tarkin, and he had steady work. It was good work too because it kept him far away from home.

He moved to the back of the landspeeder and looked at the two boxes of junk he had collected from the Lars family home. "Damn Sand People," he said as he looked at it all.

The stormtrooper with him came up beside him. "Let's get moving. Take these boxes to central shipping and mark them for General Vader."

Boggs wanted to be impressed, but he wasn't. General, captain, private. It meant nothing to him. "It's just garbage."

The trooper leveled his blaster rifle. "Just do what you're told."

Boggs wanted him to pull the trigger, but he knew the trooper wouldn't. Even though they were under martial law, the Republic military was being extremely professional, so there was no chance of him firing. It was a scare tactic that would probably work well on the majority of citizens, given their aptitude for criminal behavior. He sighed. Just as well, he thought; his wife would kill him in due time anyway.  "Yes, sir," he replied, giving a sloppy salute. "Don't know why a military guy needs a broken droid…"

Sate Pestage rubbed his hands together after viewing himself in the mirror. His new robes of office fit well on his gaunt frame and he ordered the housekeeping droid to turn the music up another two decibels. The wind instruments of the Alderaanian Royal Symphony played a particularly warlike selection and it was punctuated by several booming gongs and thumps as the percussion section went into hyperdrive during the piece's climax.

He strolled through his new apartment, nodding at the adepts that had been assigned to him. He was chief advisor to the Chancellor of the Republic and it was a title he so very much deserved he thought. He waited until the music went off before he spoke. "I must advise the Chancellor on how best to deal with the convicted Jedi. He wishes a resolution that neither appears too harsh or too weak."

One advisor with bulging eyes raised a crooked hand. Sate wondered where in the galaxy the Chancellor had ever found such miserable specimens of humanity. "We could execute half of them and imprison the other half."

Sate tried to smile, but failed. "Somehow, I do not believe the public is ready to begin summarily executing the Jedi. It is a very interesting suggestion, though."

"Banishment?" another asked, her voice raspy and sounding like fangs scrapped across metal.

"To where? Where do you send Jedi Masters that they cannot escape from?" Sate queried. "No, we need something inspired here, my friends," he said, letting the last word linger. These were his friends, like it or not. He had joined the Palpatine cause for many reasons, the least of which being that he had nowhere else to turn. "Jedi are losing their rights everywhere, but for the government to just kill them…well, its too early in the game for that."

The seven scarlet robed beings nodded. Sate turned to look outside the window. "Unless they give us a reason to execute them…"

"They have been convicted of high treason," one of the advisors pointed out. "That is punishable by death."

"Only in a time of war and the more liberal members of the senate have been quick to point out that we were not at war when these crimes occurred." Sate put his hands behind his back and rocked back and forth on his heels. It was a habit from his childhood when he would be forced to stand in the corner when he was caught not paying attention in class. He made a mental note to seek out that particular instructor and have her arrested on some charge or another. "No, we need to come up with something that will give us justification for eliminating the Jedi threat permanently so that they cannot interfere in the affairs of the people again."

"The Chancellor may not agree…" an adept stated.

Sate rocked his head back and forth as he shook the idea through his brain. It was a sound point; the Chancellor had asked for advice on the best way to remove the stigma of the Jedi betrayal from the Republic. "You are correct, so we must come up with a plan that will convince the Chancellor to see things our way. Don't you agree?"

The adepts nodded again and Sate sighed. Darth Sideous had promised him that he would arrange for this appointment, for this elevation in status. Sideous had commented that he admired the way Sate viewed the galaxy and that the Chancellor would need such advice in the coming months.

He a peculiar thought then. Darth Sideous seemed to have a lot in common with the Chancellor…

"My head hurts," Ferrin said as he swung his legs around and let them dangle from the examination table. The Jedi healer nodded.

"It will for awhile, Padawan; it is what happens when one tried to influence a mind stronger than their own." The healer laid her hands upon him and began to hum. Ferrin thought she smelled good. "And I am certainly not interested in anything like that," she said with a huff.

"Your thoughts betray you," Master Vos said as he entered. The healer acknowledged him with a slight bow and then moved into an adjoining chamber. "Do not be embarrassed, Ferrin; I was young once, too."

"I'm not embarrassed," Ferrin stated matter-of-factly. "I just thought she was pretty."

"You have the taint of the dark side on you; it projects the more forceful emotions with greater intensity towards those who are most receptive. What you saw as admiration, she saw as lust." He took a step forward. "Because of this, you must tread carefully. You are not as you were before."

He scratched his head. "I know; I can feel it…the dark side. It calls to me."

"Indeed; it is something I must live with every day. Remember, young Padawan, it is not what you feel, but what you do about it."

"Is Master Ovos angry with me?"

Quinlan hesitated for a moment. "There have been many changes in the months you have been in your Force-coma." He slowly went over all of the details of the plight of the Jedi, carefully pointing out that had it not been for Ferrin, they would not know where the real evil did lie. He ended on an upbeat note. "As I am now leader of the Order, I am happy to say that you have passed your trials and will be confirmed with the title of Jedi Knight. Anyone who can survive a battle of minds with a Sith is strong enough to carry the burden of knighthood."

Ferrin only nodded. "I thought I would be more happy. All I can feel is profound sadness."

"Yes; it is a dark time, but you must never give up hope. We were complacent, those of us in power and…arrogant. We cannot dwell on that as we must see to the continuance of the Order." Quinlan handed Ferrin a robe and turned around to allow him so privacy while he changed. When Ferrin announced he was ready, Quinlan turned and took a good look at him.

Above his right eye, the blood vessels had broken, leaving a purplish scar that looked as if it had been drawn there. Facial tattoos were sacred to Quinlan's people. Such a mark indicated someone who was about to take a long journey of discovery. "The Chancellor is to announce the sentence for the Council today. We expect them to be sent to a penal colony for a short time."

Ferrin shook his head, his eyes suddenly far away. "No…that isn't…" He stopped as he gripped the right side of his head. "I see something…something that was in Vader's mind when I touched it!"

Quinlan closed his eyes and pulled the Force to them both, trying to calm the younger man and allow him the time to focus the images that were swirling in his mind. The contact must have been deep, for it was not something that Quinlan had been able to read of f of Ferrin's lightsaber.

Together, they worked their way through the Force storm raging in Ferrin's brain until they came to the eye. The calm was a lie, a trap, for hidden in the center was a whirlpool of dark emotions and impure thoughts. These were the imprints of Vader's assault and Quinlan reasoned that Ferrin must have been more powerful in character than anyone had ever given him credit for. To be able to withstand this maelstrom spoke volumes of this newly appointed knight.

There was a laughing and Quinlan looked to see that it was Ferrin, who was slowly sinking to his knees. Quinlan lowered himself to Ferrin's level and looked in the man's eyes. They had seen the truth that had been buried in Vader's mind, a truth that Ferrin had touched upon when he had tried to influence the dark lord.

"It makes so much sense now," Quinlan gasped.

"We're all going to die," Ferrin said, a single tear running down his cheek. "We've been served up to the enemy like some appetizer."

Quinlan stood up and gripped his lightsaber, reassured by its coolness. He had many things to do and he had to do them in secret. The deception was more vile than he could even believe. The power of the dark side wasn't growing…

It already encompassed everything.