STAR WARS
SHROUD OF THE DARK SIDE
The Jedi Grand Master is MISSING! After taking on a mission to settle a dispute with several Outer-rim worlds, the Grand Master, Chroem Jied, has disappeared. The Republic tries to cover up his disappearance to avoid panic and scandal, while the Jedi Order works tirelessly to investigate the location of their lost Master.
After a month of searching, Chroem Jied's location has been tracked to the planet DATHOMIR. A pair of Jedi Masters and their Padawans, Bail and Chuult, are headed to the Dathomir system to bring the Grand Master home, and discover the reason for his disappearance.
Meanwhile, Jied's young apprentice, La Fagg, was denied by the Jedi High Council to join in his Masters rescue for his emotional attachment to him. He waits in agony for his friend and mentor to return, as the fear of losing him instills the Padawan with the forbidden emotion of anger!
The Dark Side of the Force is at work, clouding the visions of the Jedi, and turning the Republic away from its people's trust. How will the Grand Master be found when all eyes that search for him are made blind by the SHROUD OF THE DARK SIDE?...
Chapter 1.
Through the plasteel window, Bail and Chuult could see the planet Botajef pass by as they had just exited the Hydian Way Hyperspace route, the stars far beyond were as tears on a veil, echoing the sorrow felt by the two padawans. Bail, eighteen, was a human male, beige skin, dirty blonde hair, and had eyes as blue as his lightsaber. He was a Jedi Padawan and Consular in training. Studied in peace and diplomacy, though from traveling with his master, more aggressive negotiations were not unknown to him. His heart went out to his friend back on Coruscant, a fellow Padawan and student of the Grand Master, who was denied by the Jedi High Council the right to join their mission to locate and retrieve his missing mentor.
The young man next to him was also a Jedi Padawan. Chuult, also eighteen, was a Kel Dor with brown hide and a silver breath mask attached to his mouth and breathing tubes to keep him alive in oxygen rich environments, like the star ship they travelled in. He wore upon his eyes a pair of silver goggles to keep his ocular fluids from evaporating in the atmosphere, though they could not contain the fire in his eyes. The fire that burned to find the Grand Master and bring him home. Chuult, who was a Guardian trainee, had become more adept at starting fights then ending them, and was quite happy to end an argument with a swing from his saber.
"I hope this endeavor ends soon and sensibly," Bail remarked, staring wistfully out the window. Chuult, still casting out his vision as well, replied, "I don't understand," Bail looked at him, finally breaking his gaze with the stars, "what don't you understand?" as Chuult then continued impatiently. "I don't understand why we exited hyperspace so soon, we're not even in the right sector. We could have reached Dathomir by now, if we didn't stop!"
Bail backed away from the window and took a step towards the sofa in the middle of the room. The small sitting room was moderately furnished. A two seat sofa in the middle and a pair of resting chairs on opposite sides of the sofa, facing each other. Lastly, there was a coffee table centered between all the seats, but with nothing on top.
"Well," Bail remarked off handedly, "we were told by the Council to report back as soon as we exited the hyperspace lane, and Botajef is the closest planet. Besides," he continued as he sat down on the sofa, crossing his right leg over his lap, "we're in the Outer-rim now, so we might need to refuel."
Chuult, finally turning away from the window looking out at the ebon infinity, walked past his fellow Padawan, and replied, "Oh yes, and we wouldn't wish to worry the Council," in a sarcastic tone, "it's not like the Grand Master is missing or anything!" Chuult then sat in the resting chair to the left of Bail, and began to rub his forehead while letting out a deep sigh.
Bail then let out a slight chuckle as he watched his stressed peer. "Why are you laughing?" Chuult asked, more confused than annoyed. Answering, Bail replied, "I can just hear Master Midre now saying, 'Have patience young one, the Force will guide us.'" as he waved his hands and crossed his eyes mockingly. Chuult allowed himself a smile, as they both began to chuckle at Bail's jest.
"Excellent use of foresight, Bail," a voice interrupted from the open doorway of the sitting room. Bail and Chuult both stopped as they looked up only to see their two respective masters. Bail and Chuult, both finding themselves a bit embarrassed, stood up to greet their mentors. "Forgive us Master, we meant no offense," said Bail, bowing his head in shame. "We were just reflecting on your…teachings, my Master," added Chuult.
The two Masters were Bails and Chuults mentors. Master Haenno Taflu, and Master Der Midre respectively. Taflu was an Iktotchi, tall, muscular, with a pair of horns protruding from the sides of his head and slanted downwards, and he had a stare that could freeze the moons of Mustafar. He was also the Jedi Battlemaster, and a sitting member of the High Council. Midre, on the other hand, was a Nautolan, more thin, with many head tentacles extending from the back of his head and tied together with a leather band, and his was a smile that could melt the glaciers of Hoth. Midre also served as the Orders Sagemaster, and was a sitting member of the Council alongside Taflu.
Taflu then spoke to the two young Jedi, "If you're done joking around," his voice was stern, "Come you two, we must make our exit from hyperspace known to the Council. Then," he continued as he turned away from the Padawans and began making his way towards the ship's communications terminal, "we'll find the nearest fuel station." "Yes, Master," the young men replied, as they bowed respectfully so as not to upset Taflu. As they looked up to follow, they saw Master Midre give them both a wink, as he smiled and followed his fellow Jedi.
Pressing a button on the terminal in the comms section of the ship, Midre activated the holocommunicator. A waving blue hologram appeared on the table situated before the four Jedi. The hologram set finally, and showed a room of nine people, robed and sitting in a circle, the Jedi High Council. Midre spoke to the hologram, "Greetings my fellow Masters, we have just exited the Hydian Way, and are now on course to the fueling station near Botajef." The holocommunicator had trouble being still, as they were so far from the Jedi Temple on Coruscant that their reception was lagging.
After a buzz and a blink, the hologram of the Council replied. "It is good to see you all well. However, you must be cautious Masters, we have just received a troubling message from the Amorris system in regards to the sector containing Dathomir." Taflu stepped forward, "What trouble, Masters?" The Iktotchi's face darkened. The voices from the holocommunicator continued, the voice of a human Jedi, "We have been informed that pirates have been seen attacking noble ships in the next sector over from your current position. Some of these ships were allied to the republic. Law enforcement is looking into it as of now."
Chuult ceased his silence, "Pirates?!" but Midre quickly quelled his Padawan with a mere wave of his hand, Chuult was silent once more. Midre's smile turned serious as he gave a response to both Chuult and the Council, "We shall remain fine for now, as we will stay in the Botajef system until we receive word from law enforcement that the way forward is clear and it is safe to enter the neighboring sector." "Very good," the hologram replied, "and may the Force be with you." The transmission then came to an end.
Bail spoke just as the image of the hologram disappeared, "Master, surely you're not serious…" Midre and Taflu were quiet. Bail went on, "we must hurry if we're to locate the Grand Master!" "Patience young one," Midre responded, "we must hold for now." Chuult snapped back, "We don't have time to wait! The Grand Master has been missing for a month, who knows what's become of…" Master Taflu then cut his gaze past the others, staring daggers at Chuult, "Silence," he commanded. Chuult choked on his words and then stopped. "The Force knows what's become of him, my Padawan." Midre said as he placed his hand on Chuult's shoulder. "And the Force shall reveal this to us in time. For now we wait." Midre looked at Taflu and gave him a nod. "Meditate on this, young ones," Taflu said, as he walked by Bail and whispered, "Keep him out of trouble. You know how he can get when he's told to be patient." He patted Bail on the shoulder and followed Midre off to the cockpit to relay their news to the ship's pilot.
"We're not going to just wait are we?!" Chuult blurted to Bail, making sure the two Masters had left the room. "What trouble are a few pirates? We're Jedi." Bail, ever the pragmatist, said, "Well, the Council has made its decision." Bail walked around to the other side of the holocommunicator and faced Chuult, "Besides, I have no desire to have another run in with pirates, thank you." Chuult looked over to Bail, confused, "When have you encountered pirates?" he asked. Bail placed both hands on the rim of the holocommunicator and sighed, "Last year, when Master Taflu and I were near the Florrum system negotiating for the release of republic hostages." Bail's grip tightened as his thoughts brought him back to a time of horror, "We almost didn't make it. Trust me, Chuult, you want nothing to do with pirates."
Chuult looked skeptical, 'what threat would be too great for two Jedi to handle?' he thought. "Anyway," Bail continued, putting his past back in its vault, "we shouldn't dwell on it. The decision has been made." Chuult visibly sank, as he knew no one shared his sense of urgency. "Forget it then, I'll be in the training room," he said, walking away from Bail to exit the room. Bail, a bit besides himself, wanted to be alone. He left the comms room to seek out the comfort of the sitting room once more. Brewing some tea for himself in the kitchen, he then made his way to once again stare out at the ebon infinity and veil of tears.
The humming of the training remotes filled the room where Chuult had gone to clear his mind. Two remotes hovered around him, roughly alternating positions as they shot training darts at him. In rhythm, they assaulted him. He responded with a flurry of dodges and deflections, faster than most Padawans his age, with his ignited blue lightsaber. Dodge, parry, parry, dodge, parry dodge. Head, back, left arm, right arm, he protected them all with broad swings. Chuult was a young, but still respected, practitioner of Form One lightsaber combat, and his defensive strokes reflected this. Designed to disarm multiple opponents, Form One, the way of the Sarlaac, was initially designed with only melee combatants in mind, though Chuult had made adjustments to what was considered typical of the form. Using wide, yet fast, swings allowed him to deflect multiple projectiles at a time. Still, he could only deflect attacks from one side at a time this way, hence the need for quick evasion. This exhausted him. Soon the training darts pierced his defenses again and again, until he could do no more.
Shaking, he stood, his body damp with perspiration. Arms weak, Chuult put his lightsaber away. This is what he was looking for. The moment where his energy was spent, and a rush of euphoria cleared his mind. Gone were his emotions, his anxiety, and most of all the cloud of despair that hung over him like the vast cloudy horizons of Bespin. He opened his eyes, clear of deception. 'I know…' he thought to himself, 'if we can't enter the next sector until the pirates have left, then I'll be sure they have a reason to leave…"