19.913 BBY

? - Outer Rim

A Nautolan lay on his back, gazing at the sky. His black eyes brimmed with both rage and acceptance. A deep wound pierced his chest, and as his eyes slowly wandered across the scene, he took in the yellow sand surrounding him on that dark night. His gaze found the light of his aggressor's weapon—the green lightsaber, still smoking from their clash. Slowly, the silhouette of the Jedi took shape. The Nautolan bared his sharp teeth at the Knight of the Order, a laugh rattling from his nearly collapsing lungs.

The Jedi Knight pointed his lightsaber at the Nautolan's face. His voice came with calm, peace of mind, every emotion held tightly under control as he focused on the Sith lying before him. "By the Jedi Order, you, Darth Pontus, are now in my custody to face judgment."

The Sith only laughed harder, his eyes glinting with twisted amusement. His voice, rather than venomous, was celebratory as he spoke. "Oh, dear Jedi, you have no idea what I have just unleashed upon this galaxy, do you?" he asked, genuine curiosity in his tone.

The Jedi glanced around. He was on a remote moon in the Outer Rim, sent here to stop the Sith after the latter escaped the last battle with his master, leaving behind his lightsaber. When the Knight tracked the Sith to this place, he found him standing in front of a pit, a strange green stone at its center. The Sith had been speaking to the rock, then unleashing lightning upon it, triggering a haunting, bell-like sound. The Jedi thought he had managed to prevent whatever ritual was being completed. His eyes narrowed as he glared at the Sith. "Whatever you planned, clearly it failed."

Those words only brought another round of deranged laughter from Darth Pontus. Clutching his wound, feeling his life ebb away, he spoke with satisfaction. "I've already opened the path, Jedi. A path to something far beyond the Force. It may be small now, but I know... he knows we are here."

The mad laughter echoed, growing louder as the dark lord approached his final moments. The Jedi watched in shock as the Nautolan's body began to shrivel and shrink. A strange, acrid smell filled the air, and the Sith's entire form slowly disintegrated, turning into an eerie green substance.

Turning away, the Jedi returned to the site of the ritual. He noticed the green stone glowing faintly, strangely attuned to the Force, though its energy was hard to decipher. Deciding it would be best to bring it to the Jedi Council, he took the stone from its black rock pedestal and tucked it beneath his cloak.

The rock would be sealed away for many years, lying dormant in a vault for thousands of years.

Time would pass. Lives would come and go. Wars would be fought, won, and lost. Blood would soak the earth, and ruins would cover the land. Those ruins would turn to dust, and new cities would rise and fall. And beneath it all, the strange rock would rest.

Until, one day...

21 BBY

Wualief - Mid Rim

Wualief, a beautiful planet resting in Republic space, far from the war, was considered a sanctuary for travelers seeking refuge from the terrors of conflict. The planet's atmosphere was dense, rich in oxygen to the point of being poisonous for most species venturing outside the domed cities without proper equipment. The skies were always a yellow hue, and the planet's surface remained largely untouched, with cities covering only fifteen percent of the land. However, from time to time, the planet experienced what was known as "eruptions," harmless events where mineral protuberances would rise from the ground due to tectonic plates pressing against each other.

It started as an ordinary day on Wualief. The cities were filled with visitors from across the galaxy, coming to rest, eat, and continue their travels. An eruption was expected soon, far from the cities, and tourist ships were already on their way, giving curious travelers a safe view of the spectacle. Eruptions were common attractions—beautiful and harmless. But this time, things quickly spiraled out of control.

Carson, a young security guide, stood with a group of tourists, watching the event. The dense clouds of oxygen parted, revealing the monument erupting from the earth with immense pressure. Carson's brown eyes were glued to the scene; he never tired of these eruptions. They relaxed him, reminding him of his childhood. He straightened his posture—his broad shoulders gave him a commanding presence, making people think twice before causing trouble in his hangar. He absentmindedly ran a hand through his long brown hair to keep it out of his face.

The eruption was magnificent. Carson watched as minerals fell in the distance, along with magma that quickly crystallized into columns of geodes and metals. The formations were fleeting, as though more liquid than solid. But this time, something was different. He had witnessed countless eruptions in his career and youth, but he had never seen anything like this: strange green rocks glowing brightly in the distance. Their glow was as intense as the sun, and the clouds surrounding them began turning green, though the color dissipated as quickly as it appeared. "Maybe it's some kind of radioactive mineral?" he thought. "That must be from deep within the planet."

His thoughts were interrupted by screams from the back of the hangar. A Kel Dorian girl had her hands on her mask, kneeling and clutching her knees as she screamed. Then another scream, and another. On the other side of the hangar, two Wookiees roared. Carson couldn't understand what was happening until he felt it too—something in his head.

Gripping his head, Carson struggled to remain calm. He reached for the comm in his uniform pocket, but before he could speak, the sound became clear: the tolling of bells. Hellish bells. The sound was so loud that Carson dropped the comm, covering his ears as his muscles tensed, his body feeling assaulted by the noise. Soon, everyone in the hangar reacted the same way—cowering, curling into balls, hugging their legs, some even trying to tear at their ears in desperation. Carson heard twelve painful bell tolls before his consciousness faded.

When his eyes finally opened, he found himself in the familiar yet unnerving white walls of a medbay. His memories were foggy, but he knew something terrible had happened. Looking around, he saw his hands cuffed to the stretcher, confused. This protocol was typically reserved for criminals or violent visitors, but as far as he remembered, he had only passed out.

Before Carson could make sense of it, a voice came from his side. He turned to see a Neimoidian medic in a blue uniform, his slimy gray skin sweaty, yellow eyes locking onto Carson's. Snapping his fingers, the medic spoke in a harsh, commanding tone. "...If you understand me or can hear me, speak now."

Carson, still disoriented, nodded and replied playfully, "Now?" resting his hands on his thighs as he waited for an explanation.

The Neimoidian shook his head in disapproval. "This situation is far too serious for jokes. If you can hear me and stand, help with this crisis! That's an order from a Medical Officer!" he barked, unlocking Carson's cuffs.

Carson stood, still confused, his voice trailing after the Neimoidian as he followed. "Wait, what situation?"

What Carson saw left him speechless. Everyone from the ship—the tourists, the security, the crew—they were either helping those still unconscious or convulsing in their beds. Screams of terror echoed through the ship, many crying out the number "Thirteen," over and over again.

The Neimoidian glanced back at Carson as they moved to the next patient. "It seems the ship was hit by some kind of hallucinogen. But I can't identify anything in the blood tests. And this didn't just happen to your ship—it's affected every ship today."

Carson was confused. A hallucinogen? It might explain some things, but that sound—those bells—they had been too real. He remembered hearing twelve bells, not thirteen. Could it be something else? He didn't know, but what he did know was that people needed his help. Determined, he offered his assistance however he could.

While on the city, a distress signal was send to the republic.

Two Days After*

Two days had passed, and many of the visitors had recovered their health, now able to speak and describe the events to the city's medical staff. The incident was known across the entire planet on the first hour, and for the time being, all tourism ships had been stopped from viewing the eruptions. Although several messages had been sent off-planet, no response had yet come from the Republic.

Carson was doing what he could to help with the more violently affected individuals. Many of the men and women who exhibited aggressive behavior during the incident still displayed strange behaviors, including—but not limited to—self-mutilation, cannibalism, incomprehensible speech, and homicidal tendencies.

Codogoll Pakgh, the Neimoidian head of the medical staff in the city, was struggling to communicate the situation to other cities at the current time. Communications between them had become erratic. Carson, now with bags under his eyes from the exhaustion of forty-eight hours of emergency duty, was advised by one of the medical droids to go home and rest. He agreed.

As Carson stepped out of the medical facility, he took in the city's full splendor. The sun was setting in the distance, visible through the energy dome surrounding the city. Tall buildings towered above, displaying advertisements for city services and prominent Republic trademarks. However, some of the billboards were flickering in and out, their holograms stuttering. He assumed it was just the maintenance crew working behind them. His steps were slow, heavy with fatigue, his eyes nearly closing as he walked. He tried to stay aware of his surroundings, noticing a crowd gathered around something, but he couldn't figure out what they were looking at. Nor could he muster the energy to care.

Carson continued toward home, slowly unbuttoning his uniform to breathe more easily. In the distance, he could see the spaceport. There were many ships docked—some commercial, others personal vessels. At first, he noticed a lack of droids, which struck him as odd. But as his eyes caught sight of a ship coming in to land and movement behind the vessels, he relaxed. Satisfied that all was in order, he entered one of the streets leading to his apartment building, ready for the well-deserved rest that awaited him.