Chapter XI (16 BBY)

The small porcine creature quickly glanced up from its grazing area as a twig snapped three meters from its position. Its snout quickly came up, tasting the air and catching the scent of two human males walking along a path in the woods. The sound of footsteps crackling the fallen leaves came closer to its position. With a startled squeal, the creature darted from its meal and raced towards the relative safety of its burrow several meters away.

Dressed in camouflaged clothes, Jorec Merridon walked slightly behind Gregory Kinneson. Gregory spotted the animal and quickly quizzed Jorec on it.

"So, what was that that just ran away from us?"

Jorec thought for a moment, recognizing the animal but trying to find the real name for it in his mind.

"It's a miale, possibly a cousin of the gundark but zoologists haven't been able to fully prove it. Average height of about .7 meters, width of about 1.3 meters. Diet consists of…"

"OK, OK. You know the animal. I didn't need the Encyclopedia Coruscanta entry for it."

Jorec stifled a small chuckle and continued walking. These walks through the forests were supposed to be an orientation to the wilderness and the animals in it. Jorec was bored with having to recite old news he had learned during his two years in the wilderness following the betr… No, he refused to think of it, refused to bring up the still painful subject.

It's funny, Jorec thought, I have all this information about this area that I'm not supposed to have. What would I not give to not have this info though? It's self-defeating… I can't wait until this training portion is over, all of this redundant information is making my head hurt.

Jorec threw his leaf-covered jacket on a chair as he entered his apartment, and collapsed on the soft couch. Slight pain erupted from his back, the victim of a nasty spill he had taken that afternoon. His eyes closed as he slipped into a meditative trance, one of the few "Jedi" things he still continued to use.

Peace entered his mind, a sense of calm seemingly permeated the room as he continued to meditate. All of his attention focused inward upon himself, and everything else disappeared. The sound of the couple next door arguing disappeared, his ears only picked up his own breathing.

Time seemed to have no meaning in his meditative trance, and Jorec remained motionless on the floor, lost in the Force.

A feminine voice sounded throughout the room, saying something that Jorec couldn't make it. His eyes snapped open, and scanned the room. The voice had been near, seemingly coming right beside him. The living room was empty save for himself, and all checks of the other rooms proved useless.

"Another vision, but what's the purpose of this one? Female voices I can't even understand…"

Damn, this thing weighs a lot!

Jorec slowly walked along the path, a backpack on his back stuffed with anything that would give him a hard time; several days worth of food, an emergency first-aide kit, a few days worth of extra clothes. A tent was strapped to the backpack, adding several more pounds to his equipment. A long blaster carbine hung from his left shoulder and a canteen noisily banged against his right leg.

He looked to his left side at the middle-aged man several feet in front of him. Dressed in hunting clothes that were probably more expensive than they were practical and carrying an equally expensive hunting rifle, the man was flanked by other members of his family dressed in the same style. Behind him, Jorec could hear the family's servants carry the backpacks that must have been as heavy as his, as well as their own supplies.

At least they had to pay for the servants on this trip too. Force forbid they have to carry their own supplies…

Gregory stopped the group as the midday sun shone brightly upon them.

"OK, here's a great spot. Let's set up camp here, and then we can go out and actually hunt."

One of the clients said something but Jorec, who was too busy setting up his own tent, didn't hear it.

So, this is what a junior apprentice does, guard the camp while the others are out hunting.

Jorec had to slightly chuckle as he poked a stick in the fire, stirring up the flames and bringing more warmth towards him. He stared into the flames as they quickly began to consume the extra kindling he had placed on it.

Bored, Jorec checked out the device in his pocket. The others were about 1.5 kilometers from his position and moving away from him. Focusing on a burning piece of wood, he reached out with his mind and grabbed it. Staring intently at the inflamed stick, he slowly watched it move a few centimeters upward. He slowly rotated the stick 180˚ and watched as the grayish-red end broke off upon contact with another piece of burning wood. He raised the burning stick a few more centimeters before finally dropping it, causing it to fall back into the flames and turning the badly burned parts into shattered pieces of ash.

It was several hours before the main group returned from their hunt, bringing with them the already field-dressed carcass of a docile herbivore. It was a shape that Jorec knew well. In his years of surviving in the forest, Jorec had killed many of these creatures for food with his lightsaber. Now as he watched, the rich parade over the carcass that would more than likely be used as a trophy somewhere, he couldn't help but feel slightly ill. It was almost as if it was a waste of a life to him.

He helped Gregory hang the field dressed creature from a large tree, tying the creature's legs to a high branch far from the reach of natural predators.

"Hey, Greg. What happens to the rest of the creature, after they let the taxidermists make their trophy?"

For emphasis, Jorec pointed to the laughing tourists near the campfire.

"Well if they choose only to keep the head of the creature, which is pretty common, the remaining usable meat is usually donated to a charity in Gevest. Some fresh meat is certainly better than the nutrition paste they usually get."

His apartment had been empty for two days, and the feeling of emptiness persisted. Jorec walked into the kitchen and removed a piece of fruit from the conservator. A sigh escaped from him as he casually turned on some music that filled the room. The music of a Corellian band filled the room, casting a somber tone that matched Jorec's mood.

I can only hope that any other potential survivors have adjusted to their new lives better than I have.

Somewhere else in the galaxy, a long-sought prey was finally found and was dragged out of his hiding place. And with a flash of a red blade, another survivor was found and soon joined most of the other Jedi in death.