A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away...
Star Wars Rewrite
Episode VII
The Force Awakens
By JSailer and Squasher
It has been three years since the Jedi Order vanished. In its absence, the malevolent First Order, the united remnant of the fallen Empire, has expanded out of the Unknown Regions in their effort to reclaim the galaxy.
Standing in their way, however, is the divided and factionalized New Republic. Lead by
Leia Organa Solo, the galaxy prepares for a conflict not seen since the end of the Clone Wars.
Desperate to gain an advantage in the coming war, Leia has dispatched her most daring pilot to the world of Jakku, where a clue to an ancient weapon has been discovered…
Chapter One - Amid the Sands
Primeday, Nelona 1st
Edge of the Unknown Regions
34 Years after the Battle of Yavin
The vacuum of space was quiet. Peaceful, with only the stars to disturb its silent vigil. Resting on the edge of explored space, this frontier colony was far removed from the busy hyperspace lanes that dominated much of the neighboring Core and Mid Rim. Only the desperate and hopeful looking for an escape from the politics of the larger galaxy and the chance to begin again would be found here. Farmers, scavengers, explorers and traders called this sector home, and many did not complain about it's rather boring existence. To them, it was freeing.
Though the worlds here were harsh in their own ways, it was still theirs to decide their own fates. The freedom to choose how they wished to live in relative peace. To many, these worlds were the great unknown to be explored. Worlds to be found, and claims to be staked before someone else did. A place where one could leave their troubles behind.
However, those old enough to remember the days of war and strife knew of this sector's importance. They knew the trouble that had visited it some twenty nine years ago. They remembered the terrible carnage that had taken place there. The place in history it had earned with the countless men buried amongst its arid soil. Soon, however, history would return to this world yet again.
From the corner of the system, an explosion of light blanketed the area. White and blue knives cut their way into the material world, outlining an interdimensional hole that rocked the space all around. Then, in the blink of an eye, something was pulled through. A ship. A ship of importance.
Weary eyes stared through the cockpit armor-glass of the T-70 Incom-FreiTek Space Superiority Fighter, Mark D, though it was better known by its nickname, the X-Wing, due to the shape of its superstructure. The T-70 model was the successor to the legendary workhorse of the old Rebel Alliance. However, this particular T-70 was unique in comparison to its many countless brethren scattered throughout the galaxy. Unlike the traditional primary colors of white and blue seen commonly with the New Republic Navy and Sector Patrol units, this vessel was repainted a stark black with a deep orange trim. And along the battle worn frame was painted the maw of a rancor.
To Commander Poe Dameron, it was a reminder of its time in another war. Another backwater hellhole. But, in the end, against the same enemy. The enemy that he had fought over five years ago, and the same enemy his parents had fought almost thirty years ago. He grumbled silently in the gloom illuminated by the stars as he stared down at his navigation charts.
Beep-dum-Boo-voo
A message in red blocky aurabesh letters read across his screen. He chuckled to himself.
"Yeah, I know. Funny how it is, buddy."
Veep-dee-Bee-doo.
"No, I don't believe in coincidences," he chuckled, "but I suppose I do believe in irony."
He looked out his cockpit again. Down at the bronze colored world. Down at the world that had changed history once and was going to, again.
"Jakku," Poe breathed softly, "never thought I'd be coming here, buddy, lemme tell you."
Another message ran across his screen. This time he could hear the soft, chirping laughter through the comm. system. With a fodder-eating grin, he swiveled in his seat to face his BB-model astromech.
"Just focus on flying straight, Mr. Droid Detective."
The droid's ball-like head swiveled down to face him, its beady photo-black cam-eye glaring down at him. Then the droid slanted its head sideways like a mischievous child about to tell a secret, and closed its cam-eye once like it was winking. Poe laughed heartily.
"I'm gonna hold you to that. If we crash, I'm blaming you."
The droid laughed at him, beaming his astro-speech across his screen. Poe laughed again, glaring narrow-eyed at his rascally roguish backseat driver.
"Oh, how about the time we crashed on training day back at Yavin, hmm? Or that time you got miffed at Lulu's droid for stealing… what was her name?"
R2-KT, the panel read.
"Right," he replied sarcastically, rolling his eyes as he faced his control panel again, "you do realize that she is like," he paused, doing the math in his head, "fifty years out of your league?"
Beep-dee-Bum-doo
"Oh, you don't care do you? Well, did you care when you tried to ram us into Lulu's E-Wing?"
Dum-deep-Bee-duh
"I don't care if he was mocking you about it! You don't go killing your pilot and my wingman just because his droid stole your girl."
Fee-Bum-Boom
"I keep you on because I like your banter. You keep me sane. Trust me, I would die of boredom out here with anybody else. You at least have some sass, and you entertain me."
Beep-Deep-Boo
"At this rate? We keep each other out of trouble, BB-8."
Vee-Bee-Bidi-Boo
"Oh shut up, you oversized grav-ball. Wait," his eyes went back to his comm. screen, noticing the incoming transmission. He pressed several panel options and opened the incoming message. It contained a set of coordinates.
"BB-8, check with the-"
The droid already had the answer ready.
"The Goazan Badlands," Poe breathed soberly, closing his eyes in remembrance. BB-8 chirped comfortingly behind him. Poe simply nodded.
"Yeah, I know. I'm taking us in."
Once upon a time, Jakku had been the site of the largest naval engagement since the Battle of Coruscant. Hundreds of ships, thousands of fighters, battalions of men and armor fighting on the ground. All exchanging fire in the space surrounding the planet like the wrath of deities. Ships exploded on impact from hundreds of turbolasers, others rammed into each other in the confined and crowded space, some even collided just by coming out of hyperspace. For seventy-hours, the navies of the New Republic and the remnants of the Galactic Empire turned a once quiet colony into a savage battlefield as each side refused to back down, each convinced it was in the right.
In the end, the battle had ended in a stalemate. Both fleets, too battered and exhausted to continue, limped back to their defensive positions on either side of the planet; ordering the men on the ground to dig into whatever position they'd managed to take. For weeks, they'd watched the other in measured contemplation; waiting for orders that never came. Waiting for the end that came in the halls of politics.
His parents had fought in that battle. Their stories had haunted him. The actions of that day had haunted the galaxy, and set the stage for the present. A bloody conflict that had yet to be resolved. A war that never really ended.
"We're coming in, buddy," Poe called BB-8 over the comm.'s, "set the aft shields 60 degrees."
The X-Wing roared through the night sky under a dazzle of heat. Fire burned off the sides of the blue-tinted shields like the fall of angels. Then, a moment later, they hit the upper atmosphere. Steam billowed off the craft as it glided through the cloud cover. As the vessel settled, Poe hit the bow lights.
"By the Force," he gasped. There, in the valleys below, was a graveyard. A graveyard of thousands of souls. Everywhere was debris. Everywhere were the evidence of the climactic end to a climactic war.
There were fighters strewed across every surface. X-Wings, TIE Fighters, Interceptors, A-Wings… he soon lost count as his craft flew over the long since burned out corpses covered in the sand. He looked left, and he saw the torn half of a Blockade Runner; it's engine pods scattered among the hills behind it. He looked left…
A Star Destroyer, he thought in awe, an Imperial II Class.
The mile long ship was buried in the sand, it's bridge section missing. BB-8 chirped a warning and he pulled up, gliding over a dune. Then he saw them. More Star Destroyers. Among them Blockade Runners, Nebulons, Raider Class Cruisers… a Mon-Cal.
Five, six, seven, he quickly lost count. He didn't even bother trying to count the walkers and grav-tanks that littered the battlefield. His father's words, his mother's words rang loud in his head like a brass bell tolling at noon. A sense of foreboding ate right into his bones with cold that stiffened his nerves.
"I'd never seen so much death," he repeated to himself. BB-8 quickly agreed. Poe suddenly found it strangely fitting that the planet's surface had a red palate to it. He had the disturbing image of the blood of the fallen pooling into the sand like upon a canvas. BB-8 quickly interrupted his mind with a warning.
"'Never look back, Poe. It distracts from the now.'"
Poe nodded. "Let's get what we came here for."
Thirty minutes later, they found it. It was a long stretching canyon system made up of deep arroyos and dipping valleys that Poe guessed once formulated some aquatic trench. Suddenly, on either side of Poe's X-Wing rose from the darkness a pair of older Z-95 Headhunters who shadowed his approach. BB-8 beeped in utter surprise, and scornfully chirped at his pilot. Poe simply shrugged.
"Buddy, you wouldn't be able to scan 30 meters in this terrain."
His mind raced as the fighters continued to trail him. A dozen opportunities presented themselves to elude his captors, but almost all of them depended upon the starfighters not shooting him down immediately if he took an evasive maneuver.
Suddenly, his radio squawked as a distinctive Ryl accent came online, "Unidentified vessel, this is restricted airspace. Identify yourself, or you will be fired upon, over."
"This is Commander Poe Dameron of Black Squadron, 75th Fighter Wing. Counselor Organa sent me, over."
A second voice possessing the metallic bass of a Duros chuckled, "A Flying Rancor, eh? Never thought we'd have a war hero in our midst."
Poe chuckled back with a wry grin, "The Rancors Bite Back with a Vengeance."
"Indeed," the Ryl voice replied, "we've been expecting you, Commander Dameron. We're to escort you back to our base, over."
"Acknowledged, over."
Quickly, the Headhunters took point, turning on their own searchlights and diving into the canyon pass below. Though outdated by a few generations, the old Incom fighters were reliable and modifiable for any situation thrown at it. Poe had flown quite a few back in the Academy and had a great respect for them. Though, he wouldn't trade his own X-Wing for anything else. She'd served him well during the Outer Rim Crisis.
Then, as the vessels cleared the passway, he found himself in a long clearing flanked by rising canyons.
"'A dried up lake bed?'" BB-8 asked. Poe shrugged.
"I'm a pilot, not a geologist."
Towards the back of the canyon was a village that lit up with a multitude of lights. The Headhunters banked right, and Poe spotted the signal lights below.
"Alright, I'm taking us in. BB-8, prepare the landing cycle."
In an exhaust of sand and dust spewing out like a whirlwind, the X-Wing slowed to a hovering pattern and finally touched down upon the make-ship runway. BB-8 chirped sarcastic about the landing.
Poe simply smirked back at him, "A good landing is any you can walk away from. Certainly more than I can say about you."
Veep-Bee-Dee
"Don't make me punt you, you floating techno-ball."
Poe quickly unstrapped himself and slowly rose from his cockpit. Below him, he was greeted by a dozen raised blasters. Poe smiled winningly and spread his arms wide.
"Hey, hey! I'm so very sorry I'm late to the party! Believe me, nobody told me just how long the lines are for Corellian Brew. Must've been standing there for hours on end. And that's not even mentioning all those little kiddies clambering over me, just begging for a joy ride on my X-Wing!"
The men chuckled, and lowered their blasters. Poe just as quickly descended from the nose of his fighter, removing his helmet. Poe was of average height and build with rather handsome angular features, tanned skin and wavy brown hair. All in all, he looked more like the face of some famous celebrity on a recruitment poster than one of the New Republic's most distinguished fighter pilots. But Poe didn't mind that much; it did wonders when on leave in the bars of the far reaches of the galaxy.
With a loud hiss, the holding clamps on the astromech slot opened, and BB-8 shot right out of his seat. He landed in freefall before his anti-grav thrusters kicked in, hovering over the desert sands. BB-8 was a rather unique model, and one the scruffy desert men couldn't help but gawk at. His head was dome shaped, his body rectangular with repulsors jutting out like the stumps of legs. He was orange and gray in trimming, and narrowed slit-eyes like an angry cyclops.
As they drew closer, BB-8 suddenly produced an arc-caster from his chest, jutting out deadly volts of electricity as he chirped out a challenge to them. The man answered by raising their blasters at the floating ball of sass, and BB-8 simply laughed at them.
Poe shook his head in annoyance, "Buddy, why do you always have to go picking a fight everywhere we go?"
BB-8 turned his head and winked at his owner, chirping a boast.
"Yeah? Well one of these days you're going to run into something as stubborn as you are, and I'm not cleaning up the mess."
BB-8 scoffed at him, then suddenly advanced on the blaster-wielding men like he was going to charge. They backed rather skittishly and the floating droid laughed merely; holstering his arc-caster.
"That droid is going to get you into a lot of trouble," an elderly voice suddenly shot out from behind the mass of men, "he mistakes gallantry with foolhardy."
The desert men stepped aside as perhaps the oldest man Poe had ever seen stepped forward to greet him. He was tall, thin and grizzled with snow white hair and rather gaunt expressions. However, this was contrasted starkly with his eyes. They were the eyes of a young man, eager for adventure and discovery. Eyes that Poe felt had seen the wonders of the universe and was still hungry for more.
"Believe me, I know, sir," he smiled at the elderly man before he extended his hand, "Commander-"
"Poe Dameron," the older man replied with a sanguine smile as he took his hand with a strength beside his age, "hero of the Antiga Sector and Bane of the First Order. Yes, I have heard a great many things about you."
"As I have of you, Mr. Tekka."
"Oh please, Commander. Call me Lor San. I haven't been called by my last name since I left the Archeological Guild."
Poe smiled like a child in the arms of a kindly uncle, "The Counselor speaks very highly of you, sir."
"Oh? Counselor, is she now?" he replied with a grin, "I much rather prefer Princess."
"I don't think she's been called that in a long time, sir."
"Oh, she will always be royalty to me, Commander. Come," he took the younger by the shoulder, "I have something to show you."
"I must ask, sir, but how did you-"
"Come to this place, so far away from actual dig sites and the prestige establishments? Master Skywalker put me up to this."
Poe stopped in his tracks, eyes wide in amazement, "Do you know where he is?"
"Sadly, no," he replied grimly, "like you, I lost contact with his Order three years ago. But before he disappeared, Luke asked me to look into something. A mystery, if you will. And as his good friend, I was more than happy to oblige."
"How did you come to, well, know him?"
"Ah, intrigued by the Legend of Luke Skywalker, are we?"
"Well," Poe laughed embarrassingly, rubbing his hand through his hair, "we studied him and his father's tactics back in the Academy. Plus my flight instructor, Antilles, well, he liked to talk about him a great deal."
"Yes," Lor San smiled warmly, "Luke changed a great many lives. Especially mine. In the days of the Empire, there wasn't much interest in the study of the past or the ancient cultures, not with Palpatine controlling the flow of information to suit his fancy. Then, one day, a young man came to me with an offer of a lifetime. He wanted my help to discover the long lost secrets of the Jedi that hadn't yet been destroyed."
Poe eyes widen. "You helped build the Order?"
"Oh, I merely dug up old archives and found lost temples. But Luke was always one to show his gratitude. I am not of the Force, but he always considered me an honorary member. I am not afraid to admit that those were the happiest days of my life."
"I can certainly see why."
Parting through the adobe village, they soon came across what Poe could only describe as a sinkhole, descending down into a cavernous depth like a black hole rising from the embers of a supernova.
Lor San noticed the look on the younger man's face, and asked, "Did the Princess tell you what it was you were coming to collect?"
Poe shook his head, "With us being so close to the Unknown Regions, she didn't want to take the risk if I was captured."
"Understandable. Please, this way."
They stepped onto an elevator system, slowly descending down into the depths below. For the first part, there was absolute darkness only broken up by BB-8's torch. The droid beeped in discomfort, the sound echoing off of the walls deep into the world below.
"I know," Poe nodded in agreeance, "this place spooks me, too."
He couldn't shake the feeling of unease that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. It was somehow worse than when he'd seen the graveyard. Somehow. Like an oppressive cold that he couldn't warm from.
"I do not blame you," Lor San interrupted his thoughts, "not a soul has stepped into this place for many thousands of years."
"How did you find this place?"
"Very carefully."
Then they passed a certain point and Poe could see light at the bottom. And when the platform hit the ground, his fear had turned into awe.
"By the Force," he breathed. For before him was a city. A city of stone and metal. Where great and towering monuments and spires, ruined yet in grandeur stood. It was unlike anything he'd seen before, even by the temples of the Massassi on Yavin.
It was as if he'd stepped into another world.
"Magnificent, isn't it?" Lor San asked with an aged smile. Poe could only shake his head in utter astonishment; his mouth agape. BB-8 answered with a chirp of an equal shock; gazing at everything in sight.
"You said it, buddy."
The two men walked amongst the ancient streets, flanked by an army of workers unearthing the ruins. Poe looked left and right to the towering temples, ascribed with pictographs depicting the populace before otherworldly beings. Worshipping. Presenting gifts. Poe could not speak, but only gawk at the sights before him with BB-8 practically clinging to him.
And yet beside it all was Lor San Tekka, who walked amongst the souls of the ancients like a stroll in a market. His face was strangely impassive.
"Take it in, my good son," he answered solemnly, "for you may not see it again."
"I don't understand."
"There are secrets here. Secrets that in the wrong hands could spell disaster for the galaxy. And because of its location along the Demilitarized Sectors, it will not be long before we are discovered."
Poe nodded. The Demilitarized Sector was a buffer zone in all but name where the military forces of the galaxies superpowers couldn't set foot in. However, the First Order had no scrubbles breaking intergalactic law if they could get away with it. And with the state of the Senate and the Assembly, that was something they could do often. Even Poe, an officer in the New Republic Navy, was here illegally.
Finally, Poe asked the obvious question that had been sitting in the back of his mind since he'd stepped foot here, "What is this place?"
"A temple of the ancient Rakata."
"The Rakata?"
"The first of the intergalactic civilizations to harness their power to carve out an Empire. An Empire that spanned much of the known galaxy. There are many such temples like this, scattered throughout what used to be their territory."
"What happened to them?"
"What happens to most Empires. They fell, in part due to the First Jedi. However, their secrets and history are still buried amongst their ruins… including that which the Princess has sent you to retrieve."
"Which is?"
"Their greatest secret. The secret to the success of their power. Come, I shall show you."
He quickly took the lead down the many trodden paths until, at last, they came across a mighty dome acropolis; painted gold in the light above. Through the ruined gates, the three entered. And there, they found the remnant power that once sailed the stars and inspired others to follow in their wake. For within the hall stood a monument of an alien Poe had never seen before. It reminded him of the Mon-Cal in its fish-like appearance, but it was taller and leaner with a malevolent awe that made Poe realize the natural cruelty it possessed.
Standing tall, it's hand risen to the skies, was an orb. Lor San suddenly stepped forward, and the stone block beneath him sank. And with that, the orb simmered with great power. Lights dazzled all around them. BB-8 cowered beneath Poe as he whirled all around in the path of the illumination.
Then the lights shot outward towards the center of the dome, and began to spread. It was then that Poe understood what this place was. It's purpose. It was an astrological hall… and there, spread across the constructed canvas above, was a star chart. Thousands of stars and systems dotted the room, but something was off.
Poe did not recognize most of these formations presented here. He, of course, saw the center star holding the galaxy together. He could make out certain worlds within the Core and Inner Rim, but most of them were of the Unknown Regions. It came to him. The map was incomplete, clearly one of the few pieces that needed to be put together.
"Yes," Lor San nodded, "by the look of your face, you too understand."
By these words, Poe's mind returned to his mission. "BB-8, start documenting the map, and create a holographic dimensional chart."
The droid nodded, and diverted power to his thrusters. He rose high into the dome, flashes arcing out above as he began his work. Poe turned back to Lor San.
"You said this place held the secret to their success. What secret is that?"
"One that the First Order and the Empire before them have been searching for. An arcane technology so great it allowed the ancient Sith to dominate much of the galaxy. In the records, they were known as Star Forges."
"A Forge? You mean like a factory."
"Exactly that. These Forges were powered by the Dark Side of the Force; capable of non-stop production of any imaginable material."
"Like Star Dreadnaughts."
"Among other things."
Oh yes. That was something the First Order would most definitely want to get their hands on.
"How many of these things are there?"
"Only one. The rest were destroyed many years ago during the age of the Old Republic."
"But how do you know this one wasn't destroyed, as well?"
"I think you already know the answer to that."
Poe turned back up the map above, and his droid taking holo-shots of the images. He remembered again that the most complete section was of the Unknown Regions.
"The Rakatan's reach was beyond any imaginable," Lor San explained as he stood shoulder to shoulder with him, "they dominated every star and enslaved every race. According to my research, they had a Forge within every seat of power, which became five. Three of these were destroyed during their fall, the fourth by the Jedi during the Sith Wars. If this map is accurate, then the fifth and last of them lies somewhere within the Unknown Regions."
"And probably close to First Order Space."
"Indeed," Lor San then turned back to the younger man, his face grim and somber, "once your droid has finished, we shall return to the surface. And in turn, seal the entrance once more."
There was a great deal of pain on the archaeologists face, and Poe understood why.
"I am sorry it has to come to this. This place looks like it would take years to fully document."
"Better it be lost again then be found by the enemy."
Suddenly, a young boy came running into the room; frantic and out of breath. "M-mr. Tekka! Mr. Tekka!"
"What is it, boy?"
"The men, t-they say that strange ships have jumped into the sector!"
Poe's face hardened into that common amongst warriors. "We've got company."