For those who read this Fanfic before Friday, December 15 I combined some of the chapters. Felt they were too short. Sorry! Also, I am writing a version of this in Google Docs, and I'm hoping to get this published. So if the chapters don't come out as fast, it's because i'm writing longer ones.

Name: Antony Quer

Gender: Male

Rank: Sergeant

Serves Under: Alliance High Command

Location: Core Worlds; Corusa Sector; Coruscant Subsector; City Ruins

Mission: To Make Base on Coruscant Ruins

Commanding: 25 Troops

Remaining Troops: 25

Antony gripped his gun tightly in his hand, paining it slightly. He released the pressure, soothing his aching hand. He had been on Coruscant for the past week, searching through the ruins for anything dangerous about the planet, and if it was adequate to make a base upon. Antony's group of 25 soldiers neared the city, or what was left of it at least. After the Clone Wars, Coruscant became a war planet, eventually taken by the Empire. All the beatuful cities were left to whittle away to nigh, though. Only a small while ago had the Alliance Command seen fit to take it back for a base.

"We will need a search group, first, to see how the planet fares after the Clone Wars. It is not yet decided, but most of the Command votes toward Sergeant Antony Quer for the mission," Mon Mothma had explained during the meeting two weeks ago. It had taken most of the first week to prepare the troops, and Antony, until they finally made the short voyage.

"Sergeant, I see someone at the City Ruins," Jerl, one of the men standing beside Antony, said, pointing towards what remains of the city. It took Antony a second to respond, as he was lost in thought.

Antony peered through his macrobinoculars where Jerl was pointed. Sure enough, a figure with green body armor stood, surveying his surroundings. "Very well, we shall have a look towards it," Antony concluded. "You have a sharp eye."

"Thank you, Sir," But it wasn't Jerl's eye that had seen the man. It was the force, for he was trained at a young age to use it. He had disguised himself as a trooper for the mission. He had a bad feeling about it.

"Everyone, we are city-bound. Pack up, let's go," Antony raised his voice for the group to hear. They nodded.

It had taken them the rest of the day, but by sun-down they had reached the city. The man had made camp in a small, standing building.

"Don't fire until I give the signal," Antony whispered.

His gun raised, he slowly approached the building. It was made out of a Durasteel-Brozinium-Concrete mix for sturdy walls. The metal cried out in protest as he stepped on the stairs.

He's heard me, Antony thought, cursing to himself.

Opening the door, Antony said with a desperate tone, "Is anyone in there?""

A clear, an oddly light, sounding voice rang from the inside. "Yes."

"Who are you?" Antony dared to step inside.

"Are you with the Rebellion?" The man said, ignoring his last question.

"I, indeed, serve under the Alliance Command," Antony stated professionally.

"Good. I can pick up the other half of my bounty now."

The man jumped up and tackled Antony, startling him. His armor was a rich green, and the headpiece was connected to a jetpack on his back. A gun with a short and stout barrel, which oddly resembled a lightsaber, was in his hand. Antony jumped back when the man's finger coiled around the trigger, like a snake would it's prey.

The trigger was pulled back, releasing a bolt the length of a lightsaber blade. Antony ducked with inhuman speed, the bolt barely missing his cap. It , instead, flew right in and out of a soldier behind him. The corpse didn't hit the ground before Antony shot his gun at the most-likely-Mercenary. It missed, and the Mercenary shot his gun again. Antony rolled and jumped out of the way of the shot. He fired four more times before repeating the process. His soldiers fired as well, to no avail.

Jerl, suddenly, zipped off his jacket, revealing a mud-brown tank top. Bolts seemed to stray away from him as he did this.

Next came his pants, which were hiding a pair of shorts underneath. A gray object hung to his belt, barely noticeable in the sunset.

"Jerl?! What in g-" Antony began, but a bolt flying at him forced him to stop.

"Trust me," He said, then grabbed the gray cylinder from his belt. He pressed and held down the button that was right in front of his index finger. A beam of plasma emitted from the top. \

It was a lightsaber.

It was light green, casting shadows the same color. Antony stared at it for a few seconds before he again realized he was still fighting a Mercenary.

The Mercenary turned his gun so that the barrel was facing towards the sky, and hit a button that ignited a permanent sky blue blade. The gun/lightsaber was black, so the blue went well with it.

Antony suddenly felt something inside him grow, like a burst of energy that he could control. He wanted to destroy the Mercenary, crush his bones like a cracker in the fist of a child.

The power suddenly rushed up to his brain, and he felt as if the world rotated around him. Everything he wanted he could do. Move a boulder? Easy. Make bolts turn direction? Like he'd been doing it all his life. The world was his, his to control at his every whim. Antony gasped as he felt it, like he had been put in a god's position. Everything was identifiable, everything was his.

He realized he could do what he wanted to do. So, he made an imaginary paper out of the Mercenary, and crumpled it like a bad drawing. His durasteel armor bent, cracking when it needed to. The armor stood no chance against his power, like a marshmallow standing against a fire. He wanted to do everything he could with this.

He made the remaining buildings fall, like a lego tower. He caught and flung away bolts from

him like baseballs, made sand twirl, and was ultimately in control. But then, like it came, it was gone. The feeling of power left his heart, and everything resumed its position. It was an unsatisfying feeling, losing the power. But he had felt it! He knew it would return, when he needed it, in this he was confident. For now, however, he returned to the now.

The Mercenary's armor lie in a heap of scrap durasteel, a green blotch on the white of the dirt canvas underneath. The man underneath had already took off running.

Jerl looked at him, jaw dropped. "What was that?!" His face was of complete and total shock, like someone had revealed all his loved one's were dead.

Antony stuttered for words, his mind jell-o. "I-I don't k-know."

"We haven't the time! Comeon, he's working for the Empire! We need to follow him!" Jerl started towards the path the Mercenary left. Out of the original 25, 8 minus Jerl, remained.

The Mercenary turned back and fired at the group, killing one. Antony grimaced at the low numbers.

The Mercenary ran towards the outskirts of the city ruins, towards a spherical ship. The front half was glass, while the rest was durasteel. It started to take off, but Antony jumped.

Normally, he would have missed, but the Force empowered his legs, allowing him to jump up to the button with ease. He was hanging by a small durasteel rod, probably for the Astromech droid that was supposed to be poking out the top of the ship.

Unknowingly using the force, Antony swung his feet so they were touching the bottom of the ship. He pushed off and swung towards the cockpit of the ship. He landed on the top, dazed by the acrobatics needed for the maneuver.

After initial shock, he got down to business. Tapping into the force for a second, he crushed the absolute tip of the sphere, letting him in. Once he dropped, the cockpit shot off the main ship, like an escape pod. Antony jumped, and time seemed to slow. His hand brushed the side of the enclosed cockpit, but he missed. He began to fall, towards a large pile of stone.

But it wasn't a pile of stone; It was what remained of the Jedi Temple.