AN:

Hello everyone, and welcome to STAR WARS: The Prophets of Rathar. This is an Alternate History story set in the universe I created in my previous work STAR WARS: Heralds of the Force. If you haven't read that yet, I highly recommend it so that you can understand this story and get the most out of it.

Ironically, even though the idea for Heralds of the Force came first, Prophets of Rathar has been the one that has stuck with me far more. My writing on Heralds was very laissez faire in the sense that I would just make it up as I went along. I was never more than a chapter or two ahead in my planning. For Prophets, I've been hammering this out for a while. I have a solid beginning, middle, and end all fleshed out with many of the chapters in between ready to go. Either this will make my writing much more enjoyable, or I haven't learned a single thing from Icarus. Should be an entertaining ride either way!

As always, please leave reviews for any feedback you have, no matter how insignificant. Not only am I a glutton for Words of Affirmation, criticism and critique from an audience is essential for any writer to improve their skill and I never want to be complacent.

Without further ado, enjoy the story and let me know what you think.

May the Force be with you,

- Klick

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away...

STAR WARS

THE PROPHETS OF RATHAR

Unrest returns to the galaxy!

Nineteen years after the end of the Clone Wars, the fragile peace that has held the Galactic Republic together is fading.

The Jedi Order, under the leadership of ANAKIN SKYWALKER, is struggling to keep the peace, only succeeding with help from loyal Senators like PADME AMIDALA. Needing new Jedi Knights to serve throughout the galaxy, Anakin recalls his children LUKE and LEIA back to Coruscant in hopes that they will be able to pass their trials, unaware of the growing darkness that threatens to destroy them all...

A small, nondescript shuttle, no different than any of the thousands of cargo haulers in orbit, exited hyperspace and made a slow and deliberate descent into Coruscant's atmosphere.

Its very nature made it ideal for the mission that its masters had selected it for. While the Galactic Republic had mostly recovered from its harrowing experience in the Clone Wars, its military was decentralized and stretched extremely thin. They didn't have the time or inclination to check to see if every single shuttle that was clearly made for hauling merchandise was actually going to its destination.

Pulling out of one of the countless traffic lanes that crisscrossed the ecumenopolis, the shuttle docked at a decommissioned factory in The Works.

While it was true that the factory had not produced anything in decades, it was far from abandoned. The Pykes had taken over and used it as a base of operations for much of their dealings in this sector of Coruscant. As long as the local C-Sec officials were given their routine bribes, they weren't bothered.

The people arriving on the shuttle worried them however. No matter how secure they were in their operation here in The Works, several of the people arriving had the power and authority to make their lives miserable, not to mention considerably shorter.

It hadn't always been that way. Some of the older Pykes had remembered the days when nobody told them what to do and they had ruled the underworld section of many planets with an iron fist. But it had been over twenty years since that was the case, and they dared not go against their new masters.

As the shuttle landed, the newer members of the gang attempted to kneel before the still closed doors as a sign of respect before a few of the old timers roughly yanked them to their feet. Their masters might have demanded respect and utter obedience, but thankfully they had little time for pompous displays.

The shuttle doors opened with a loud hiss and clouds of steam. Out of the haze strolled a hooded figure in a dark robe that obscured his entire face. The only distinguishing mark upon his clothing that betrayed his rank were the stitched red horns woven into the hood. Two of the senior gangsters looked at each other with mild concern. It was never a good sign when an Acolyte appeared. The strain they put on a syndicate's resources was only matched by the body count they left behind. Behind him came a figure that needed no introduction. Gar Saxon's infamous red and black Mandalorian armor was only matched by his intimidating horned helmet with a yellow visor. Whatever the Acolyte was planning, it must have taken considerable effort to make the Mandalorians give up their most prized warrior for this operation.

Just when the Pykes couldn't feel more at ease, a third figure stepped off the shuttle. This was different. It was also dressed in a black robe, but it was a much more simple piece of clothing. There were no discerning marks on it, but the Pykes guessed they never would have known who it was even if they did have a mark. A sneaking suspicion told them that not many people who had ever seen one of these… things were ever heard from again.

It was human, there was little doubt about that, but it was unlike any humans the alien Pyke members had ever seen. It was hairless, and pale as ice. The human's eyes were a harsh, angry yellow that seemed to stare right through their souls. Yet, even though the eyes betrayed an unmistakable evil within, the figure seemed to be remarkably passive. It looked at them all with supreme disinterest and seemed to look at the Acolyte with the gaze of a trained animal. Though he didn't know why, the Pyke felt a cold that penetrated deep into his very being and gave him the feeling that he might never be warm again. The faster this thing was out of his sight, the better it would be for everyone.

"Ahem." one of the senior Pykes said, collecting their thoughts and moving forward to greet these newcomers. "On behalf of the Pyke Syndicate, we welcome our fellow Crimson Dawn members to Coruscant. Rest assured that any and all needs that you have will be fulfilled to your highest stand-"

"Enough with the pleasantries." came the Acolyte's harsh reply. "Our time is short and we have much to do. Was my message received? Have you made the necessary arrangements?"

"It was, and we have." the Pyke answered hastily. "Many of our best scouts were able to get access to the locations you specified. Docking codes for Location One, and a legitimate pass into Location Two. Although as for your second location, I must warn you that it is impossible to bring weapons through that route. The Galactic Senate building is one of the most secure places in the world and with respect, not even Gar Saxon could sneak a blaster in there."

"Irrelevant." the Acolyte said with a rude wave of his hand. "I have all that I need. Give Saxon access to Location One, and get ready to move our… other companion, to Location Two."

"Will, ah, will Saxon be moving to Location Two after he is done with his assignment?"

"No."

"No?" the gangster's curiosity got the better of him and he found the questions coming from his mouth before he could stop himself. "I do not understand. What is the plan if Saxon is going to the Senate?"

"You know all that you need to know." the Acolyte said, raising his head up and making eye contact with the gangster to flash a warning at the criminal that he was going too far. Although the Acolyte's purple eyes had none of the distressing evil that the other figure had, they contained much more malice.

"Forgive me." the Pyke said, falling to his knees, keenly aware that Gar Saxon was thumbing his blaster pistol as he waited for the command to execute them all. "I overstepped."

Surprisingly, the Acolyte let out a small chuckle.

"No matter." the hooded figure said, helping raise the gangster up from the floor. "I understand you are nervous, but you don't need to be."

He turned around to address the assembled Pykes. It was clear that this Acolyte was one for grandstanding. All fine and good, as long as it achieved results.

"For almost twenty years, we have had to live in the shadows." he said, pacing back and forth across the hangar floor as he did. The Pyke leader thought he might have caught Gar Saxon rolling his eyes, but by the time he got a good look at him the moment was over.

"Too long have we scurried away like womp rats when the Republic and their Jedi dogs come searching for us. They are weak, weaker than they know, and we are about to show them that. As their pillars of strength come crumbling down all around them, we shall be there to take their place. As my master says: we shall burn the galaxy to the ground so that we may rule the ashes!"

A few cheers went up from the assembled men as the Acolyte commanded them to go forth and due their assigned tasks. As the gangsters escorted their guests and made their way to their waiting vehicles, some of the older members shook their heads ever so slightly. This wasn't the life of crime they had signed up for all those years ago. Burning the galaxy to the ground? That was something far above their measly power to do. Some were excited by the possibility, while others worried that it would be the beginning of the end for their organization.

All the while, the Acolyte let out a manic grin at the chaos he was about to unleash upon Coruscant and the Galactic Galaxy.

"Nothing can stop us now." he crowed, looking out at the skyline of the city before him and taking in the delightful sensation of a calm before the storm. "You thought us dead, you thought us forgotten. A beaten, broken thing that was barely worth remembering, much less taking notice of. But you have made a fatal mistake. So enjoy your last moments of peace, Skywalker. Enjoy them, and weep that they shall soon be over."

"Because after all this time, the Sith have returned."