Star Wars: The Master. The Knight, and The Apprentice.

Hello all, merry christmas and happy holidays! I have decided to try something that I have always thought of as a little beneath me, writing fan-fiction. Since graduating I have bounced back in forth with my dedication to my art. So my goal has been to write at least an hour every day, something that has proven very difficult with a 1 year old and a full time job. Well I was feeling a little boxed in a few days ago, so I turned on Netflix to see if there was any inspiration while I read through my half finished projects. I found two that I though would fit well together, and I was also watching a Star Wars movie, so I just went for it. This will be a three part project, so keep your eye out for the proceeding two parts in the weeks to come. 

NOTE: I have no idea if this is actually legal, but let's find out together! Comment and Share!

Star Wars; The Master, The Knight, and The Apprentice

Tamroon lost complete sense of himself. To a certain extent he understood that he was a being with a body and physical limitations, but in this moment his physical self seemed more like a distant, abstract concept. He was melting into the Force. He felt like a sunrise, reaching out with arms of light feeling every living thing, dispersing shadows, extending himself further than his mind could even comprehend. He couldn't feel his surroundings, that was too simple of an explanation. He was his surroundings.

He couldn’t see a bird sipping water from a small puddle, but he could taste the crisp water rolling down his gullet, he could feel the morning wind push against his feathers. He was the bird. He was everything.

He was life.

Becoming one with the force felt like becoming the tide of an ocean, he ebbed and flowed at the will of some unseen entity, when he felt any type of obstruction he would surround it, envelop is until he understood its most inner workings. He couldn’t tell how far his senses were reaching, and he knew that most of what he was feeling would be forgotten once the trance was broken, but he was far. Dozens of systems were under his gaze, each teeming with life; life that he was a part of.

Telling a living creature from a droid or spacecraft was easy, though all things held a certain level of life, all things were connected by the force. In his lower level of consciousness Tamroon saw life as a sort of creature on its own, something created from light- no, not light, energy. Life burned all around him. Sentient beings, like humans and Wookies burned like a bonfire, larger animals like rancors felt more like a burning stove, plants were flashlights, and droids were a small candle.  Connection to the force had nothing to with size. A racor was enormous, but their intelligence- or lack thereof- kept them from accessing the force.

Breathing deeply Tamroon expanded his gaze, reaching passed the atmosphere of his small planet, out into the galaxy as a whole. The more he connected with life, the more he appreciated it, and the more he appreciated the force. Living was equally controlling the world around you, and submitting to the will of the surrounding energy. His short time with the Jedi had taught him to appreciate the sacredness of life, but the time he spent away from the temple allowed him to understand the importance of taking what you needed, not what you desired. The force was generous, and unbiased. A being need only contribute to the balance to partake of its power.  

Tamroon was not an expert in all areas of the force. He was adequate in several common practices such as lightsabers and object manipulation, but those fell out of favor when he stopped his formal training.  This, however, this was his strength. Most of the time he used this talent to track his bounties, and on rare occasions- like today- he was able to simply be.

In the midst of his trance, something called for all his attention. Focusing on a small moon in the outer rim he felt a burning presence. Standing in the presence of the Jedi Council he had felt, at times, overwhelmed by a similar power, but never like this. This presence wasn’t a welcoming kind of warm. It felt like a deadly fire, burning away everything that came to close.

This fire gave off no light, only darkness.

Tamroon knew what he was looking at. The Sith had tried to recruit him when he had first left the order, but this wasn’t a normal Sith. This was death itself, a physical representation of the Dark Side.

Something deep in the darkness called after him. He couldn't hear a voice or see any physical form, but a slight nudging from the force, a gentle encouragement to pursue. Fear swelled in his chest, and his Jedi training told him to smother it - one of the many shortcomings of the order. Instead he allowed his fear to adapt into curiosity rather than anger, he trusted his fear and thus proceeded cautiously, but he needed to understand what scared him. What, in this expanding galaxy, could cause him to lose faith in the Force?

Once he tried to prod into the darkness he felt an explosion of his senses, he could see every detail of the moon,

“Found you,” a voice said. The sound sent a cold shiver down Tamroon's spine, snapping him out of his trance.

***

Pollution. Noise pollution. Sound pollution. Everything bad from the upper levels always ended up down here. Slow moving plows scrapped against the concrete ground, opening a path down the crowded street and making it impossible to hear even the closest conversation. Before the large machine was out of view gusts of air blew more junk across the street, the beginnings of a new layer of trash.

Tamroon pulled his robe tights around his body, avoiding contact with the vermin that passed by. The few sets of peering eyes that lingered were redirected with an inconspicuous wave of his hands. Looking both ways he jogged across the street and started looking for numbers on the buildings as he made his way underneath them.

“Spit shine?” a young boy said, tattered gray shorts covering his teil flesh. Tamroon did not respond.

Further down the road, maybe a quarter mile, shouts and banging echoed from inside a building. Soon a man came running out, one hand holding up his oversized pants, the other covering the back of his head in an attempt to ward off the ensuing blaster fire. A weak scream that came after Tamroon passed made it seem that his evasion techniques failed, and a feeling of loss swept across Tamroon’s mind. Many Jedi let the fear of that loss drive them to make irrational decisions. Tamroon felt the loss, but allowed himself to feel the life energy penetrate other forms. The vagabond’s loss was their gain.

“22363,” he said to himself. His fingers caressed the edge of his holstered light saber and muttered the numbers again. The lower levels were always dangerous, period. No one was safe.

It took another thirty minutes of walking, which included a few pauses for more trash plows to pass by, before he came to the foot of his destination. A rusted building displayed peeling numbers illuminated by a flickering light. 22636.

“May the force...,” Tamroon said.

The building had 14 floors, four apartments to each floor, though most of those were easily eliminated. The woman he was looking for would either be on the first or top floor, a sort of symbol saying she was above, and thus better, than all the trash. Or a low level would be a token of humility. I can be in the middle of chaos and remain calm.

As soon as he pushed open the front door he knew he was wrong, sort of. A sickly green light surrounded an arrow pointing down to the basement. Living beneath the trash was a very Miskein Kwaad type of behavior, a way to maintain her status despite her circumstance.

Her entryway was pristine, a stark contrast to the scummy planet as a whole. Tamroon reached to knock, but the door swung open before he had the chance. A caretaker droid rounded the corner and beckoned him inside with some welcoming beeps.

“Once they are sure you are dying they allow you some basic levels of comfort,” a weak female voice said, answering his question before he could ask it. How could a criminal own a  droid?

Tamroon bowed gently towards the woman, Miskein Kwaad, though she still was mostly hidden by the shadows.

“Master, glad to see you are making the most of your… this.”

Madam Kwaad laughed, “This, isn’t bad.”

They didn’t have much to speak about, or rather it was hard to have a conversation with a criminalized Jedi Master that was able to read thoughts.

His old master had been imprisoned after a second apprentice had left the order, not two years after Tamroon had left as well. Madam Kwaad was a devout disciple of the Jedi Order, but after the fall of the Jedi and the absolute failures of the Skywalker family Congress decided to take more direct efforts in controlling the “rogue religion”. The Master’s all agreed, even though the government’s control did little more than that man’s hand protecting the back of his head, Kwaad could escape her prison once she decided she’d had enough.

Tamroon stepped further into the room, allowing him to see his old master in a better light. Her frail body was held in her chair with crude straps that wrapped around her chest, arms, and legs. A neck brace held her head pointed forward. A translucent rubber sack sucked tight against her skin, revealing her sickly form.

Tamroon’s mouth gaped for a second, this decrepit body was in stark contrast to the strong energy he felt.

“Don’t let those eyes fool you, I am as strong as ever,” Madam Kwaad said.

The droid, who at one point must’ve been painted sleek black, pushed its master towards a table and gestured for Tamroon to sit, and as he did he allowed himself to remember the presence, the cracking voice and cold touch, he felt on Omlope. As he lost himself for a moment the droid left the room, turning a light on as it did. Tamroon looked into the old lady’s face, searching for words, and was surprised to find tears rolling down her face.

“You found her.” Madam Kwaad said.

“More like she found me.”

Silence paused the conversation for a moment.

“Was she alone?” Kwaad asked, her voice steady and full of emotion.

“Hard to say,” Tamroon said, “her presence was different than I remember, but it still felt like one presence, just more.”

Kwaad closed her eyes, beneath the rubber sack her fingers stretched out like she was reaching. Tamroon felt her go through the memory, felt her live what he had lived.

“Fool boy,” She said, “why do you think she was looking for you?”

“Our only connection is that we were both trained by you.”

“Did I not have any other apprentices?”

Tamroon frowned, she had six others that he knew of.

“So why you? They would be easier to find, none of them are trying to hide.”

“Because the only person I could go to for help is you.”

The rest of the apprentices were all still faithful to the Order, only the last two of Kwaad’s trainees dared question what they were taught.

“You are powerful, my boy, but not powerful enough to garner her attention,” a metallic rattle came from the back room, “are you armed?”

Tamroon dropped his cloak and revealed his saber and two blaster pistols. Some angry beeps echoed from the hall, followed by a distinct crackle. Tamroon ignited his own sword as a light white lightsaber floated into the room and cut the sack away from his master. She stood, than fell.

“Will you please carry me, out the window would be the safest,” Madam Kwaad said.

Distant rumbles sounded and Tamroon did as he was bid and climbed out of window  well, the white lightsaber floating behind them as his green saber hummed alight in his hand. From the back of the building they could hear the noise of the street, though rather than the bustle of a busy intersection as it had been before, it was now full of screams and the cries of pain. It didn’t sound like a fight, it sounded like a slaughter.

Tamroon climbed a ladder, using the force to stabilize Kwaad on his shoulder.  He heard blaster fire ricotche off the white saber. His old master put images in his head of their pursuers, humanoid creatures in matte black armor, mesh helmets hiding their faces, with deep green tentacles coming off their backs. He could hear them growl, but in a more complex way than animals, their growls were their language.

Tamroon stopped as he felt one of his blasters slide from his belt, but continued when he heard Kwaad speak, “Just me lad,” she said, “giving some return fire.”

He heard, than felt, the deaths of two of the aliens.

“Master, what is our exit strategy?” Tamroon said, they crested the top of the building, but now seem stranded with not many options.

“Set me down against that wall,” Kwaad gestured to the opposite edge of the building, “You need to hold them off as I procure us a ship.”

Three of the creatures reached the top at the same time. Tamroon swung his lightsaber to deflect a flurry of blaster fire, and drew his own pistol to return the favor.

One dropped, a charred hole appearing in his skull.

The other two were ready with shields of their own, held up by the two longest tentacles from the base of their necks. The three fought at a stalemate for a minute as shields and lightsabers deflected oncoming attacks. Tamroon inched himself closer to his attackers until her was barely outside of arms reach. One creature dropped the shield into its arms and attempted a melee attack, Tamroon dropped to his knees and pulled on the shield with the force while slashing his attackers legs. Both of the aliens dropped and, with two slashes with his saber, spilled their innards on the roof.

Tamroon looked over the edge and saw a dozen more of the tentacled aliens preparing to climb.

“We need a way out,” Tamroon said, opening the heating valve on his blaster, letting out a puff of steam.

Kwaad sat, now uplifted by the force, a few inches off the ground, her face stoic and strong. Tamroon steadied his own breath and reached out with the force, sensing the battle ahead. Through the force he could feel a small light, highly distressed, coming towards him, the life force fading fast. As the force heightened his physical sense he heard screeching coming from behind.

He spun and saw the Caretaker droid, cut in half, flying towards him propelled by some retrograde thrusters. He barely had time to dodge as the projectile reached out with its one good arm. The droid circled and flew back his way and Tamroon used a decent force push to send it crashing to the ground.

Just a minute longer. Kwaad’s voice spoke in his thoughts. He felt a tap on his shoulder and saw her lightsaber floating. Taking and igniting both swords Tamroon readied himself. He felt the force explain the creatures to him: strong, tough and slow. His best chance, his only chance, would be to beat them with speed. He would have to settle for light, quick attacks when possible and focus his energy on dodging. The scrapping of the claws against the metal building was a clear sign the fight was close, but one last idea came through, the aliens did not fight as a unit.

Before the thought could fully form a laser beam flashed inches from his face. Tamroon sprung into action as all 12 aliens flipped, rolled, and climbed over the edge. Three went to Kwaad, but he drew their attention back his way with a force push. He noticed for the first time tentacles that reached out from the bottom of their pants, holding them tight to the roof. The rain of blaster fire came fast, Tamroon dodged with a spinning ariel, spinning his lightsabers to send a few of the lasers back at his attackers. One dropped.

In another acrobatic leap, Tamroon pulled the felled aliens shield towards himself. While falling Tamroon flipped the shield so the hallow faced himself and kicked it downwards. It crashed onto one of the attackers, who held strong until Tamroon, having flipped in the air, dropped his shoulder hard against the beast. His legs gave out and a stab with a sword ended the creatures life.

The remaining ten stood scattered along the roof, in no discernable formation. Tamroon continued his strategy of quick cuts and attacks, now positioning himself between fighters. They had enough camaraderie to not open fire on each other just to get to him, but not enough training to follow a target with friendly fire in mind.

After a few leaps and three more dead aliens they slowed their attack, recognizing their plan was not sustainable. Tamroon took the break to breathe, calming his nerves and sharpening his senses. From experience, he knew this next attack would be the most deadly, where the fire of revenge, without the fear of loss, burned strongest.

Almost on cue the attack started again, now more coordinated with several deep growls by one who seemed to be the leader. As he jumped over one a tentacle released from the shield and wrapped itself on his ankle, pulling Tamroon in a long arch and slamming him into the ground, dropping both swords. Without looking Tamroon pushed with the force and heard a terrified growl fade into the distance.

Swinging his legs, and grabbing one pistol, he fired in the other direction, catching one alien in the side of the face as he looked for orders. Tamroon pulled with the force on the lightsabers, and dodged before he caught them. The two light swords spun in the air, distracting the soldiers while Tamroon drew his second pistol. He fired three times, hitting true with each shot. As he turned to fire on the fourth, his sabers spun back towards him, completing their wide circle and cutting the thing from behind and ending the fight.

Tamroon holstered his firearms, caught the lightsabers, and clicked them onto his belt with satisfying, and final, click.

A starfighter flew over head, and stopped right above them.

“That was difficult,” Kwaad said. She opened her eyes and climbed onto Tamron’s outstretched arm.  

“Well, I appreciate the help,” Tamroon said.

They climbed aboard the ship and Kwaad sat in a seat that automatically strapped her in the same way she was in the chair at her house, though this seemed much more comfortable.

After several minutes of dodging to the outer layers of the planet they entered open space. Tamroon jumped as the controls left his seat and rotated to Kwaad.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

“We need help,” she said, “I cannot do this with a half trained, out of practice, force user. We need real fighters.”

Tamroon saw the coordinates.

“No,” he said, “we are not going there. I’ll be arrested, you’ll be arrested. I have contacts that can help us. We just need some credits and-”

Tamroon was pushed against his seat. Kwaad floated, still in her chair, to look him in the eye.

“You have been pulled into a fight that you barely understand. We fight this my way.”

Her words were gentle, kind, and carried the fire of a newborn star.

“Care to explain?” Tamroon asked as she floated back into the captain’s position.

“No. But maybe the council will see fit to. Just know this, I am not a criminal.”

***

Master Mookar was a burly alien, covered in a thick mane that extended passed his shoulders to nearly half way down his forearms. The skin that wasn’t covered in hair was dry, rough, and matched the expression he held on his stern face. He scratched his substantial beard and showed the three inch tusks that hung from the corners of his mouth.

“Welcome back Master Kwaad, the council has missed your steady wisdom,” Mookar said.

“I am afraid we do not have time for formalities, Master. We have pressing matters at hand, namely my apprentice had resurfaced.”

Mookar sat back in his chair, “Tamroon is not a real threat to the safety of the galaxy.”

“Not that one.” Kwaad said with a huff.

“We find no indication-” Mookar started to says, but was cut short as Kwaad turned her chair out of the room and began to leave.

“You have to know,” Mookar said, “that I have alerted congress and they are coming here to get you.”

Kwaad turned and looked directly into the large alien’s eyes, “Than you must know that this planet, this society, will burn.”

Mookar did not respond and let the old woman leave in her chair. Tamroon judged by the abrupt and angry exit that negotiations did not go as planned.

“We’re leaving?” Tamroon said, pulling his robe around him to not show his weapons.

Kwaad sped past him.

“We are going to find Rena, we are going to stop her, and we are going to die.”

Tamroon put his hand on his lightsaber and followed his old master out of the building.

End Part 1