Hello, everyone! So, after a seven-year hiatus from FanFictions, I have returned. So, let me tell you a bit about this story and why it's posted here and not in the Star Wars area of the Video Game section.
This story picks up immediately after the events of Star Wars: Jedi: Fallen Order. However, it will expand the entirety of the Star Wars canon universe-to the best of my ability, it will stick with the timeline through A New Hope
and the Original Trilogy. I will also be sticking largely to the current canon, though there will likely be some grey areas. This story will follow, primarily, the characters of Fallen Order as well as a group of my OCs. However, it will also include various characters from the movies, books, and animated shows. It will have plenty of twists and turns and fun in between. If I get enough reviews, I plan on seeing this through as a 30 or 40 chapter story. So please, enjoy and tell me what you think.
Chapter I: New Horizons
Location: Nar Shaddaa, Vector Star Casino (14 BBY)-
The din of laugher and drunken cheering was enough to drown out even the most focused being's thoughts. From the sounds of arguments as Sabacc Cards slammed onto durasteel tables to the mechanical dinging of varied gambling machines, it was, nearly painfully, obvious that the casino had well-earned its moniker of Nar Shaddaa's Sleepless Corner.
His face hidden beneath the cowl of his dark, brown cloak, he worked his way through the partying crowd with the ease and grace of a man who may well have spent his entire life in such an environment. His hands would occasionally reach out to brace this patron or that bystander, and yet never once did he make physical contact. Impossibly, despite his muscular build or his towering height, he moved along what well may have been a predetermined path without attracting the attention of even the eyeful security droids patrolling amongst the casino tables.
A drunken Ithorian stumbled forth, then, causing several patrons to drop their expensive drinks as they all rushed to get out of his unpredictable path. The young human male, however, seemed almost to expect this very event. Without making even a single additional step, he glided around the Ithorian while maintaining his anonymity. A Wookie bouncer caught the inebriated alien and held him steady with an annoyed groof. The following series of short barks and grunts, however, brought such a smile to the human's face that it could nearly be perceived by those around him. The Wookie bouncer, it seemed, was on a first-name basis with the Ithorian, and not in the way of a friend so much as—his smile grew.
Family.
It would appear that some things translated well enough even across different species.
He took one step forward before his movements suddenly paused, his eyes becoming quite suddenly fixated on an individual standing on the far side of the room.
Clad in a basic scrapper's outfit hidden beneath a blue poncho with black trim, this human male was quite young, scarcely more than an adolescent. His red hair seemed to highlight the scars about his face, chief among them one on his right brow and a larger one still over the right side of his nose. His green eyes shone not with excitement and joy, but rather with dismay and annoyance. The small droid perched atop his right shoulder, however, was a different story altogether. Its photoreceptors watched the action before it like a child watching his favorite holo-series. The new target of his attention leaned down, whispering something into the ears of a male Latero sitting at the head of one of the Sabacc tables.
"Tali, you copy?" He asked, his voice so soft as to be almost inaudible as his hand reached to the side of his head and pressed an unseen button.
"You find him?" Her voice answered back through the headset as though she'd had no trouble hearing him.
"I did." He confirmed.
"You sure? If you're wrong—"
"Not many Latero on Nar Shaddaa, and according to our information, he travels with one Human female and one Latero male."
"Fair point, Love." She allowed. "Hmm—one Human female and one male Latero—could they be—involved?" She paused but briefly. "If so—"
He made a retching noise, then, and his response was a soft laughter that filled him with a light and warmth strong enough to keep even the coldest darkness at bay.
"Speaking of the human female," He added, now scanning the room around him. "I see no sign of her."
There was no response at first, but he waited patiently neither daunted nor concerned by her silence. Then, as though there'd been no pause—
"Tactus advises there's one life-form aboard their vessel. Human, female, approximately 37 years of age."
"Copy that. So, we've one target at the landing pad and three here at the Casino, including the droid. I suggest we prepare for intercept—"
"Belay that. We've four."
"Repeat that?"
"We've four targets, Ash."
"How do you figure?"
"Two meters behind the boy, leaning against—no."
"Tali?"
He received no response.
"Tali?" He repeated. "Talia Arcturus?"
"Ash, I—I—"
He paused before responding. His compatriot had experienced nearly everything a sentient being could ever undergo. From love to warfare and everything in between, it had been a very long time indeed since something had shaken her to such an extent.
"Lia." He whispered softly, keeping his eyes on the boy. "What is it?"
"It shouldn't be possible, but—but—I mean—there she is."
"Who?"
"About two meters behind the boy." She repeated, a forced calm about her voice, now. "Leaning up against the bar. She's there, yet no one seems to notice her."
As instructed, he now did avert his attention from the boy, scanning, now, the entirety of the bar, again, just as she'd instructed. Yet, not once did he notice anything that might be out of the ordinary. His face fell into the form of a frown. Something was very much amiss—it had to be for his partner to be so completely shaken. Yet his eyes—
"Your eyesight is the most useless of your physical senses." The ghost of bygone years, the woman's voice nonetheless rang through his memories with such power that she might as well be standing abreast of him still. "They will lie to you, so don't trust them."
There was, of course, one way he could indeed find the individual Talia Arcturus spoke of. Immediately, he shot that idea down. If he did that, if he opened himself up, his mission would be over, sank just moments away from success.
"I don't—"
"Her arm's just next to the server droid's scanner."
He found the server droid's scanner, as instructed, and almost immediately he also found the arm his friend had described, covered in a long, dark-grey sleeve. He followed that slender, feminine arm upwards, not stopping until he'd at last made contact with its owner's face.
Oh.
Talia's shock, now, made absolutely sense. Her face's pale grey skin was covered in an array of darker tattoos, and her head was adorned with hair of silver that did nothing to make her look much older than the boy.
It made perfect sense, indeed.
"I thought Master Skywalker reported that General Grievous had driven the Nightsisters of Dathomir into extinction following the rift between Count Dooku and Ventress."
"He did. Grievous always was sloppy, though; remember Belsavis? I'm not too surprised at least one Nightsister survived."
"Perhaps we should rethink our plan—if that Nightsister's corrupted him, and we involve him in our mission, we could be putting the entire future of—"
"No."
"Ash—"
"No." He repeated firmly. "I trust in the Force, and if it's led us here then it has done so for a reason."
"I trust in the Force, too, Ash." She explained quickly. "But the Jedi have fallen and the Sith now control much of the galaxy. They blinded our greatest leaders, including Master Yoda."
This argument, now, he did allow. She was, after all, correct; the Jedi had known the Sith had returned 13 years before the Republic's downfall. If it could blind the likes of Yoda and Mace Windu, then it could certainly do so to him and his best friend.
She was right.
"Right then, Plan B."
"Advise?"
"We remain on observation until they leave the Casino; there's an alley out back they'll likely use as a shortcut back to their ship. We'll intercept there."
"What of the Human female aboard their vessel?"
"Contact Hawyya, advise her to reinforce Tactus's position. When we make to intercept, they can secure the ship and its occupant."
"Copy that."
The Nightsister, now, looked up suddenly before taking a step forward as she gently fingered the necklace dangling above her breastbone, and in the back of his mind the shadowy human felt as though she could see him perfectly. She took a step towards the boy, but he refused to move, refused to take the potential bait. She may see him, she may not. If she was the Dathomiri Nightsister she appeared every bit to be, then there could easily be a hundred ways she may well know he was there. His left hand reached up to the side of his face, brushing against the reminder of what had happened the last time he'd underestimated a woman from Dathomir.
For a second time, now, the woman's brown eyes looked out towards him, but by that time, Asher Victus had melted back into the crowd, gone as though he'd never existed.
Even with nearly fifteen years of on-and-off Jedi Training flowing through him, it was all Cal could do to not scream and slap his hand against the back of Greez's head. He never actually would, of course, but that hardly meant that the temptation wasn't there.
Following their escape from Nur and Fortress Inquisitorious and their subsequent destruction of the Jedi Holocron, the pilot of the Stinger Mantis had decided that their first stop should be the capital of iniquity and greed that was Nar Shaddaa. While Greez's claim that the Smuggler's Moon was the perfect place to escape Imperial attention was true, it was equally true that the moon that orbited the Hutt homeworld could also be the end of the hyperspace lanes for them all.
Greez had lost every credit he had, and after gambling his way through the credits Cal had—against his better wishes—lent him, he'd then gambled the Stinger Mantis as well.
And he'd won.
And then he'd made another wager.
And then he'd won.
And then he'd won even more.
Drunk not only from the Spiced Corellian Ale but also from his string of victories, Greez was becoming ever bolder, and while he'd yet to fly off the cliff at the end of the trail, Cal didn't need the Force for him to know that it was coming. A series of beeps and whistles from just next to his hear did nothing to deter his attention from the Latero who might soon lose his ship.
"I know, BeeDee." Cal answered. "I don't like it either, but he's not listening to me. He's like a man possessed—"
"Idiot's Array!" Greez declared, much to the dismay and annoyance of his opponents. "I tell you—"
BD-1, in turn, acted as though the little droid might have just the answer his friend needed. Indeed, the little droid jumped down from its perch on the Jedi Knight's shoulder, landing perfectly atop Greez's round head. With the droid's new, shiny Republic-themed crimson-and-white-stripped paint glistening in the casino's golden light, the small droid's scomp link erupted forth, and the moment the metal connected with Greez's head, sparks of electricity lit him up, sending the pilot scrambling from his seat. BD-1, in turn, gracefully landed and ran his way up Cal's back and returned to his previous vantage point.
"Kid, that stinking droid—"
"Cal."
Surprised by Merrin's voice suddenly breaking the laughter surrounding them, Cal turned, failing to hide his surprise as his newest friend approached him.
"Merrin, I—"
"We must leave at once, Cal Kestis."
"I—Merrin, what's wrong?"
"We are being watched."
There was no fear in her voice, no sense of panic or even trepidation, but rather the simple matter-of-fact tone he'd grown to expect from her.
"I—well, I mean, there are hundreds of—"
"I did not mean by the beings here to gamble away their life's earnings and belongings, but by—"
"The Empire?"
"I do not know." She confessed. "I have not seen them—"
"Then how—"
"The Force." Cal answered simply as Greez stumbled forward, only just catching his balance in time as the young Jedi silenced his unfinished question.
"I sense—something." Merrin confessed. "A presence, though I do not recognize it."
Cal closed his eyes, now, and allowed his feelings to encompass the entire room. Yet, he could sense nothing beyond what one might expect from one of Nar Shaddaa's most popular casinos.
"I don't sense anything." He confessed as he again opened his eyes. "Are you—"
"I do not make mistakes, Cal—you know this."
"That's rather arrogant, ain't it, kid? I mean, we all mistakes make—I mean, we all—"
"She's right, Greez." Cal interjected once more. "She's never been wrong about this kind of thing before."
"Yeah, yeah, fine." Greez mumbled, at last motioning for a server droid to collect his credits for him. "Just let me get my c—"
"Greez, I don't know that we have—"
"We have time."
"Greez-"
"We have time, kid, okay? I just won more credits than I've seen in my entire life; there ain't no way I'm about to just leave them."
"I—"
"Cal, he is right."
This, now, floored Cal, who'd never expected Greez's biggest vote of support to come from the witch who utterly terrified him on a daily basis.
"He is?!"
"Yes." She explained. "I may have spent most of my life on Dathomir, but is it not customary to take one's winnings when one leaves the table?"
Cal surrendered the point. "Yes. Yes, it is."
"So, were Greez to simply abandon his winnings, it would cause a scene and draw attention to us, yes?"
"I suppose so, yeah."
"Your girlfriend's right, Kid."
"Greez—"
"If the Imps do have their greasy eyes on us, our best chance escaping at their attention—" He belched richly, the smell of his spiced drink impossible to ignore. "Sorry, kid. Now, as I was saying, if we are being watched, our best chance at escape is to do so quietly, without drawing any unnecessary attention to us."
"Greez is right, Cal."
"BeeDee, scan the area." Cal instructed. "Tell me if you see anyone wearing an Imperial uniform."
BD-1, it turned out, could not find even a single Imperial uniform. As Greez quickly pointed out, however, not every Imperial in the galaxy would wear a uniform, especially if they were undercover on a planet not controlled by the Empire.
When the droid at last handed Greez the case containing the credits he'd won, the group immediately began to make their way towards the Casino's exit. As they knifed their way through the crowd, Cal withdrew his commlink.
"Cere, it's Cal, do you copy?"
"Cal?" The voice came back almost immediately. "What's wrong? What's Greez done—"
"We're on our way back to the Mantis." He explained quickly. "We don't know who, but Merrin senses someone watching us." He paused, considering on whether he should add his own senses. The former Jedi Knight, however, seemed already to be on top of it.
"Let me guess—you don't sense or see anyone?"
"No."
"That is odd, but don't discount Merrin's sense, either; her magic may be beyond our understanding, but it's still rooted in the Force."
"Agreed."
"I'll have the Mantis on standby when you return; better to not take any chances, not after—"
The rest of his mentor's words, however, cut out as the channel devolved into a collection of static. Cal paused, giving Cere precious moments to conclude her sentence. The static, however, persisted.
"Cere?" He asked as they now reached the exit. The static was his only response.
"That's not good." Greez replied, and while it was indeed an observation of the obvious, Cal also knew his friend was merely trying to help by making it seem like a standard problem, an effort, he felt, was to make the young Jedi feel better. It was a sentiment Cal appreciated, even if he didn't come out and vocalize it.
"We've got to get back to the Mantis." Cal said instead. "BeeDee, what's the quickest way back to the landing pad?"
BD-1 issued a series of beeps and whistles, causing Cal to look off to his left, towards a dimly-lit and unassuming alley.
"Let's go, be—"
BD-1's beeps and shrill whistles cut off his sentence.
"Kid, I'm with the droid on this one." Greez added. "I mean, going through a dark, narrow alleyway when someone's watching us? What's the worst that could happen?"
"I know, but—"
"Nuh-uh. No way, Cal." Greez repeated.
"Greez—"
"I've seen this vid before, kid—it never goes well for the handsome pilot."
"Well, then," Merrin replied. "You ought to be safe, Greez."
"I—hang on; you called me ugly."
"Did I?"
"Yes! Yes, you did!"
"Greez, it's a risk, yeah, but if the ship is indeed in danger, every second counts."
While Greez continued voicing his objection, offering various explanations as to why this idea was such a bad one and what could happen to them, Cal led his companions into the jaws of the potential trap, his senses extended and on alert for the first sign of danger. Rodents scurried before them, as though afraid of what danger the quartet might bring unto them. Indeed, the only sound to befall their ears were the slap of their boots upon the duracreet, muffled only occasionally by the whine of speeders and air taxies above them.
The Force, it seemed, had failed him. Despite his best efforts, he had no warning until it was too late. Were it not for the familiar snap-hiss of a lightsaber behind him moments before the blow landed, he'd never have seen it coming. Indeed, as it stood, when he spun around and brought his own bar of sapphire plasma up to defend himself, the pair of lightsabers stopped their track only centimeters from his face.
His eyes nearly blinded by the brilliant shine of two lightsaber locked directly on top of them, Cal found himself being forced backwards even as Greez screamed. He heard a third lightsaber, then, snap to life as Merrin tried—and failed—to move forward. While he could not see her—or her opponent—he could imagine Merrin launching a barrage of emerald, magical blasts much as she had done against Malicos on Dathomir. From the sound of it, however, her foe seemed to be meeting with greater success in deflecting her magic than the fallen Jedi had.
He'd been preparing a counter when suddenly his heart soared. As his eyes adjusted, he could now see that his was locked with a second lightsaber, just as he'd expected. For the first time, however, he was seeing a color other than the red he'd grown accustomed to fighting. No. This saber's blade was the same shade of emerald as the deep forests of Kashyyyk.
The color of a Jedi.
"Merrin!" He bellowed, deciding, now, to take a chance. "Stand down."
"Cal, I—"
"Just trust me!" He pleaded as he stepped backwards, disengaging his would-be attacker and deactivating his lightsaber. As his blue blade vanished as quickly as it'd appeared, he turned his full attention to the pair of cloaked figures. One held the green-bladed lightsaber before him, while the second—almost certainly a woman—held a blade of magenta before her, poised and ready should either he or Merrin press the fight.
"We—" He paused, searching for the right words and trusting, now, that the Force would lead him down the correct path. "We don't need to be enemies."
"Indeed?"
"I—"
"Do you fear us, Cal Kestis?"
"How—" His voice fell silent, leaving the question unasked.
It happened, then. Where'd only felt a smooth void, he now felt a power within the Force that he'd rarely before felt. A shackled strength and passion seemed to flood over him, as though he'd only just taken his first dip into an endless ocean. He could feel pain and sorrow, love and light, acceptance and determination, all rolled into one. He could feel trepidation and acceptance, too. He could feel every imaginable emotion all at once, and yet each was shackled and controlled, not by teaching, but—
By experience.
The experience only a Jedi Knight could have.
"There is no emotion." The words ejaculated from his mouth before their existence had even manifested themselves into his mind. "There is Peace."
"Those are words." The owner of the green lightsaber said dismissively. "What definition do they have for you?"
"I'm not afraid." Cal answered immediately. "Either you mean me no harm, or you do. If you don't, then I'm safe."
"And if we do mean you harm?"
"Then I'll defend myself and my friends as best as I can, and if we die then it's the Force's Will. If we live, it's also the Force's Will."
Instantly, both opposing lightsabers shut off in near-total unison.
"Spoken like a true Jedi." The woman—her voice left little doubt otherwise—allowed.
"Indeed." Her companion concurred as he reached up to grab his cloak's hood. "We both apologize for the ambush, but I needed answers."
"Answers?" Cal asked, puzzled.
"Come now, Cal." The man explained as his hood fell from his head. "It's not every day one sees a Knight of the Jedi Order travelling with a Nightsister of Dathomir."
His right eye was hidden beneath the confines of a patch of nerf-leather attached to a band that was mostly hidden beneath his dark, brown hair. The left eye, however, was dark blue that radiated a gentle strength and—curiosity? That light was a stark contrast to his scarred, rugged face that stood dominated by a thick, neatly-trimmed beard and mustache.
"You—you thought—"
The woman, now, lowered her own hood as well, revealing bright, violet eyes and a head of auburn hair that fell in two thick braids along her back. Even from beneath the folds of her robes and cloak, he could tell that her short body was nonetheless athletically built.
"We did allow for the possibility that she and your relationship with her had corrupted you, aye." She answered simply. "It would hardly be the first time a Jedi had been corrupted by the magics of Dathomir."
"I—"
Cal held up a hand, silencing Merrin's accusations almost immediately.
"Why should my friendship with Cal be of any concern of yours?" Merrin asked, making no attempt at hiding her accusation.
"We don't trust—"
"You should have to forgive us," The male cut in, heading his companion off at the pass as he pointed at the patch covering his eye. "However, my last encounter with a Sister of Dathomir was quite the eye-opening experience."
"You survived a Nightsister's knife? You are lucky."
"Her lightsabers, but yes, the Force was certainly with me that day." He chuckled.
"We needed to know for sure whether we could trust you."
"I—"
"Hang on, Kid." Greez, now finding his voice, interjected. "Why do you care if you can trust Cal or not?"
"Because," The woman answered simply. "Cal is a Jedi Knight, and the Jedi Council has an assignment for him."
"Whoa—"
"There is no Council." Cal explained shortly. "Ours is a Fallen Order—"
"Perhaps, or perhaps not."
"I—"
"We have much to discuss, my friend." The man answered. "And little time in which to do so."
"Aye, and it'd not do us to dwell out in the open, not with the Empire about. Let us retire to your vessel and we can speak of this in greater—and freer—details."
"Hang on, now." Greez interrupted. "The Mantis isn't the Jedi Tem—"
"Come on." Cal responded, cutting his friend off once more.
"Kid—"
"They are right, Greez." Merrin supported. "I feel no deceit or ill-will from them."
"Yeah, neither do I."
"Yeah, well—well, you didn't feel them getting ready to attack you until those glowy swords of theirs were nearly at your neck."
"Now that he mentions it—"
"We're Jedi who've spent five years operating behind the Empire's back." The man surrendered. "We've learned how to conceal our presence in the Force. Now, come—we haven't much time."