Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars—or much else at that. Damn, I am a loser. Wait, I own a computer! I'm just a total geek…WOO HOO!

"Ok," Meverick thought, "this can't be a good thing." A small part of him, his non-Jedi side, sarcastically thought, "No shit."

As his ship landed with a hard thud in the middle of the docking bay, and he noticed what looked like the clone troopers from his era coming, blasters raised, he gently touched the mind of each of them, changing their perception just ever so slightly, as to make him totally disappear.

As they neared his ship, one opened his cockpit, and despite looking right at him, he commented, "There's no one in here." At this Meverick relaxed, he had time to maneuver. He definitely felt hostility from these soldiers, directed at him. They wanted to kill him. But he had a feeling that they had never come up against a Jedi before. And their hostility had just sealed their fate.

Meverick released his hold on the troops just as his lightsaber blade severed the commander's head. Then all hell broke loose, in a panic, the other seven troops fired rashly at him, and two fell from friendly fire. A quick sweep of his lightsaber deflected another blast at its firer, and also skillfully pierced another's chest. With a deft raise of his hand, two more flew into each other, head first, and were at least knocked out. And finally, the last's blaster rifle flew out of his hand and was chopped in half.

Meverick walked over to the frantic troop, and removed his helmet, revealing not a clone but a young boy, no older than twenty. Although he was taken aback by this, and felt a twinge of guilt at killing the others, who were probably not clones, he still firmly pressed, "Where is your commander, boy? Tell me and you will live."

The troop, now frantic, answered "B-b-bridge…just t-take that turbolift, and you'll b-be there."

Meverick coolly said, "Thank you," as he used the Force to knock the boy unconscious, "Time to go see this commander."

The turbolift did just as the soldier had promised, and put him right on the bridge. Within 30 seconds, he had everyone with hands up, just by holding up a blaster rifle he had taken from one of the troops. The fools still didn't know he was a Jedi.

"Ok! Who is commanding officer here?" Meverick commanded. A small, bald man raised his hand.

"Good, I have use of you," the Jedi remarked, touching on the commanders mind, "I am an ally of yours, and my ship has been damaged. You will repair it and then let me go."

The squat bald man nodded, and proceeded to give the orders, much to the surprise of the rest of the bridge. That's when the turbolift opened again. A shapely woman walked in, who must have been very beautiful before years of battle had scarred her face. She also must have been a very powerful person, for when she walked on, the bridge staff left immediately, hopefully to still fix Meverick's ship.

"I am Kana Tann, Emperor's hand," she spoke, "and you are not welcome here. Prepare to die."

At this she pulled off her belt a—no it couldn't be—but then ignited a bright red lightsaber.

In reply, Meverick held out his hand, dropped his blaster, and commanded his lightsaber into his hand. "And I am Meverick Brandark, Jedi Knight." Kana seemed to show a slight bit of worry at this. Wait…ah, she was no Dark Jedi or Sith, she was merely a Force-sensitive with some training. She would be no match for him.

That's what Meverick though until she deftly twirled her blade, and ignited a second beam. "Sithspit, not good, only an expert swordsman would use a double-bladed saber. This will be more difficult than I thought." He needed to even the odds.

Now Meverick held out his left sand, and another cylinder flew into it. And it exploded into another silver-bray blade.

"Bring it on," Meverick said as he lowered himself into a ready stance. Now she was truly frightened. Perfect.