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Two Years, Two Masters


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Yes, I've finally gotten around to writting it down. I haven't much to say...so without further adue, I give you the legend retold...

 

 

__________________________________________________________

 

The consoles of the Ebon Hawk hummed and beeped at Tysyacha Dvukhsotnaya as the ship whizzed its way past stars and planets. Her head rested in the palm of her hand as she leaned back into the pilot’s seat, staring at space that she wasn’t really seeing. Her mind was on other things.

 

For the past few months, the Jedi Exile had been searching on her own for Revan. He had disappeared from the galaxy several years ago, and, heeding the now deceased Darth Traya’s dying words, she had left her companions behind as she began to scour the depths of the galaxy for her former leader. As of yet, no luck. She hadn’t found a single trace of the man, let alone his whereabouts. Perhaps the rumors were right. Maybe Revan had indeed left the Republic and disappeared into the Unknowns? If he had, then Syscha knew that her search was in vain. If he had entered the Unknown Regions…he would be lost forever. No one could track something in terrain they didn’t know, especially in the desert vacuum of space.

 

There was a particularly loud bleep from one of the consoles, a blinking red light accompanying it. The Exile peered at it. Almost out of fuel. she thought to herself. The fact didn’t surprise her. When was the last time she had refueled? On Dantooine, when she had last seen Mical, Mira, and Atton? She had been to three planets since then.

 

The thought of her former companions brought back the memories of their time together, and her eyes misted up. How she missed them! They were good company, albeit sometimes a bit annoying—

 

Clank

 

The Exile whirled around, the pilot’s chair spinning crazily as she faced the door. What had that noise been? It wasn’t something normal, she could tell that. The ship never made a sound that loudly…besides, it didn’t sound as if it were mechanical at all. If anything, it sounded like a clumsy footstep.

 

Her hand strayed close to the saberstaff hooked securely at her side, and she was about to stand to go investigate, when the sound came to her.

 

With an ‘oof!’, a red-haired girl came tumbling rather ungracefully into the cockpit. Her face took on a deer-in-headlights expression as she spotted Tysyacha, and her foot stumbled backward as she began to retreat.

 

“I-I’m sorry…” the girl said, the look of panic becoming more evident on her face every second, “Well…your ship…it…that is you…” The girl jumped as she felt her back press up against the cool metal of the Hawk’s hull. “Please…I just…I needed to get away from…away from him!”

 

Syscha tensed. Him? She voiced the question aloud. It can’t be…Revan?

 

It was then the Exile noticed the girl’s blue eyes, still wild with fright. She immediately relaxed, calling on the Force to calm the mood.

 

“By Dxun! Where are my manners?” she said with a warm smile, offering a hand. “I am Tysyacha Dvukhsotnaya, or Syscha for short. This is my ship, the Ebon Hawk.”

 

The girl seemed to relax at Tysyacha’s friendly smile. Returning it with one of her own, she took the Jedi’s hand. “Syscha…what a pretty name. I’m Falya.”

 

“A pleasure to meet you.” the Exile returned. As the mood settled, she could sense a slight taint of curiosity to the air. There was silence, for a moment.

 

“So…that’s it?” Falya asked.

 

“What’s it?”

 

“You’re not going to hit me or kick me off or…anything?”

 

Syscha laughed warmly. “Of course not! I could hardly space someone because they had hidden away on my ship. For now, I’m headed to Nar Shaddaa. If you wish to stay with me, you may. If not, then you can leave once we’ve reached the moon.”

 

- - - - - -

 

Meanwhile, a shady man walked the streets of Nar Shadaa, black cloak hanging about his heels and hood drawn up over his face. He stepped stealthily, keeping to the shadows. He slipped around a corner and through a door.

 

The room he entered was dimly lit, faintly glowing red lights giving the room a bloody hue. It was filled with people, as it should be. It was a cantina after all.

 

Twi'leks, Gammorreans, Duros, as well as many other variations of aliens hovered about the room, drinking and talking in hundreds of different foreign tongues.

 

Scanning the room, the man saw a male Twi'lek with green skin, dressed in red garments standing in a corner, leaning against the wall and watching the crowd passively. He stepped towards the alien.

 

Forsakening Basic, the man spoke to the Twi'lek, using his contact's native language.

 

"Do you have it?" he asked in a deep voice.

 

"Right here. However, I need to see the credits."

 

"How about you let me inspect the package, make sure it is the real thing, and then pay you. Or, I could just blast you," at his words, the man drew a slim, hold-out blaster from beneath the folds of his cloak, handling it meaningfully, "and take the package from you."

 

Faced with the blaster, the Twi'lek's eyes grew wide. "I-I like you're idea, much better."

 

"Good, I'm glad you see it my way. Now then," the cloaked figure said, holding his hand out expectantly.

 

The alien put a hand up his sleeve, and drew out a disk. "You will find all that I promised on here." and handed it to the man.

 

With a practiced eye, he checked to make sure that this was indeed what he had come for, then slapped some credits down on the table, and left.

 

- - - - - -

 

The Ebon Hawk jolted roughly as it pulled from Hyperspace.

 

“The Smuggler’s Moon.” Tysyacha announced as Nar Shaddaa slipped into sight. Perhaps this is where I’ll finally find you, Revan…

 

- - - - - -

 

As he inserted the disk into a pocket, a ship roared overhead. The man looked up, watching as it soared by with increasing interest.

I know that ship. he thought, and slipped around another corner, and into the night.

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Muchas gracias, everyone! :D

 

I'm glad you all like it. One thing I have to say is this:

 

Don't you dare go look at the RP! :xp: But, even if you do, I have a few things to add...ideas for the RPG that never really worked out, others to clear up...etc. I have to say I didn't really like this first chapter but hey, what are you going to do...

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First off I was thinking about boycotting you FF. I mean the way you left me hanging with POD, wasn't cool. :(

 

But hey I just couldn't resist. ;)

 

IMHO This first chapter wasn't nearly as good as POD's first. But none the less it is a very very good chapter and I hope that this will turn out to be a great fic. Can't wait for more.

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I'm sorry about PoD...I really am. I'm not giving up on it completely, just putting it off to the side for now. But as for this story, you can have little fear of it being incomplete. The plot line is already made for me :xp:

 

But yeah. The chapters will get better...and hopefully be slightly more organized than PoD...

 

More is on the way!...I think...

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Yaaaay, new chapter :xp:

 

Alright, I'm warning you guys now, that I basically copy-pasted the entire chapter :D The posts were all quite long, and it didn't really seem to me that there was much I could do...that and the fact that I'm feeling a bit lazy at the moment :xp:

 

It's a strange point at which to end the chapter, I think...but there really wasn't many openings to do that without having a chapter a mile long, so...yeah.

 

 

_____________________________________________

 

---Chapter Two---

 

 

Many who feel the Force believe that true coincidences are rare.

Was it really a coincidence, then, that Tysyacha and Falya reached

a certain landing pad on Nar Shaddaa? A certain familiar landing

pad? When the two figures exited, a good-naturedly quarrelsome

Toydarian named Quello flitted out of his living quarters and accosted them.

 

"Whatsa you two doing on my landing pad?" asked Quello. "The right

to land here belongs to some other men, some space pilots who went

off for a long bender in the Jekk'Jekk Tarr bar." Suddenly, he noticed

one of the two women seemed familiar. "Eh, it's you! Haven't seen you

in a long time, Jedi, or are you a Jedi still?" Quello scratched his head.

 

Tysyacha smiled wryly. "Exiled." She gently placed her hand on the

hilt of her double-bladed silver lightsaber. "I'm not formally reinstated,

although with the deaths of Masters Zez Kai'Ell, Kavar, and Vrook, I doubt

that I ever will be." Quello flapped a few feet back, his expression shocked.

 

"Oh! I forgot to introduce you. Please forgive me, Falya. This is Quello,

a fine Toydarian who would surely take two hundred more credits for the

right to land here." She winked at the wrinkled, gray creature and smiled.

 

"Two hundred? Ehh, better make it a thousand. Since you left here, Jedi,

Nar Shaddaa prices have tripled. Some Sith here is with the Exchange, or

at least that's what the rumors say. Me, I don't believe it. I think G0-T0 has

finally swelled too big for his sphere, if you know what I mean. Heh, heh!"

 

Falya looked rather worried, and a lump formed in Tysyacha's throat.

One thousand credits? Such a sum was not Bantha fodder. Nevertheless,

Syscha surrendered the credits to Quello's outstretched hand, telling her

companion she had much more. Which was the truth, but knowing the

Smuggler's Moon, it all could be gone in a fortnight. Good thing Syscha

had admitted to herself long ago that she was a terrible pazaak player!

 

"Please, keep our ship safe. Wait--did you say there were Sith here?"

Tysyacha couldn't believe she had almost missed that tidbit of information.

 

"Only rumors. You know what they say. Oh--Dark Lord Revan?" Quello

shook his head. "It's probably not him. I'm 95 percent sure. Make that 99."

 

As Syscha and Falya left the landing pad, the Exile thought, Maybe so,

but it never hurts to check...

 

"Doesn't every system have a rumor of Revan's recent appearance?" Falya asked quietly, staying very close to Syscha's side and glancing around nervously. "I mean... it seems recently that he's everywhere, if you know what I mean."

 

"Hey, girl!" a gruff voice called. A look of pure terror crossed Falya's face and she broke into a run. The man began an immediate pursuit. Falya continued to run, but ended up cornered not far away. The man laughed.

 

"You know who I am," he said. It was not a question. He knew very well that she knew who he was.

 

"You're Vulk," she whispered. He nodded.

 

"And what do I do?" he asked, coming closer. She cringed.

 

"You hunt me when I run," she muttered. Again, he nodded. Falya prayed that Syscha would catch up soon as Vulk continued.

 

"Grayston is getting tired of all your running," he said, taking a long whip from his belt. "He's given me permission to do a little more than bind you this time."

 

He took a step back so he could achieve the full striking force of the whip. Falya cringed, waiting for the blow...

 

The whip began to whistle as it flew through the air…then stopped.

 

The girl cracked an eye open, peeking out at her attacker to see that a man dressed in blue robes had caught the backend of the whip, wrapping it several times around his gloved hand. With a mighty heave, her savior pulled back on the whip, overbalancing Vulk. As the giant man stumbled, the man in blue landed a cracking blow to the back of his knees, causing the slaver to fall hard on his back. Not yet finished, the hand holding the whip came around, landing a dazzling glance to Vulk’s temple, rending him nearly unconscious.

 

"This girl shall not suffer harm at your hands, or at anyone else’s. Return to your master, and inform him so.” the man in blue’s voice was hard, commanding, and intimidating as he addressed the fallen Vulk, “From this moment on, the girl is under my protection and shall not be harmed. Future attempts will be taken most seriously indeed, and I assure you, that should you be the one that attempts it, it shall be the last time we meet. Now, leave. Return to your master and tell him you have failed him." Obediently, Vulk stood, and quickly hobbled away.

 

Now, the man turned to Falya, where she lay on the ground, looking on in fear and amazement.

 

"Now, young lady, I suggest you and your companion had best follow me and we shall leave this scene before further trouble descends upon us. Please, if you'll follow me, I'll show you to a place of safety; a place we can talk about the current situation and, hopefully, a way to resolve it."

 

Hidden in the shadows of the dock, the man watched as the woman and child that departed the freighter dealt with Quello and walked away.

 

Using every bit of stealth to stay unnoticed to all, he followed them as they left the dock for the shelter of the Refugee District. Crouching in a corner, he watched a man advance on the child, a whip held high. Reluctant to allow them to get hurt, for they did indeed serve a very important purpose, he was about to spring on the apparent slaver when a man garbed in blue grabbed the whip and quickly dispatched him.

 

The man in the shadows snarled. Not that schutta again!!!!! Damn him! Why must that... the man used the most insulting profanity that he knew, continue to disrupt my business?!

 

Taking deep breaths and quickly mastering his anger, the man was about to break cover and follow the threesome when a Trandoshan went up to Quello and spoke to him.

The man listened intently to the exchange, finding that the Trandoshan had been sent to gather information on the ship and its passengers.

 

This could be a bit of a problem. the man thought, before slipping away after the others.

 

Using the tracking skills he had gathered over the years, the man continued to follow the ship's passengers and the blue-robed man, fading out of existence in the shadows of the streets...

 

- - - - - -

 

Tysyacha felt a mixture of anger and fear course through her as she

weaved her way through the "fragrant" crowds of Nar Shaddaa. Falya!

How in the galaxy could I have been so foolish, going to this putrid

planet when I should have known there would have been bounty hunters

here?! My next task is definitely NOT to find Lord Revan, but to rescue

the newest crew member of the Ebon Hawk!

 

She drew out her lightsaber, keeping it at her side but not activating

the blades yet. Caution was of the utmost here, as was discretion.

Syscha didn't want to cause a panic, especially when one whirling

lightsaber beam caught an innocent Nar Shaddaa dweller in the head!

After a short while, she caught a glimpse of Falya's blazing red hair.

It seemed as if she were in the clutches of a figure in a long blue

overcoat. Well. This wouldn't take very long, with 2 beams at her aid.

 

"Halt!", she shouted, and then, "Stand back!" to the rest of the

crowd. Gasps and murmurs were heard as Tysyacha whirled her

lightsaber, preparing the silver-white rays for combat. "Sir, that

girl is Falya, the newest crew member on my ship. Release her,

or I shall see to it that this weapon preferred by the Sith gets

its due!" Her cobalt-blue eyes were furious, and she fell into her

traditional Shii-Cho, or Determination, lightsaber form. It had been

the first one that she had learned, and also the most basic.

 

The crowd watched in stupefaction, some in horror, others in awe.

 

"It's a Jedi! How on earth could such a one walk here in this place?"

 

"Hmph. Stupid, arrogant Jedi! The bounty's not active, but my anger is!"

 

"Is she going to kill us all after she finishes off the cloaked one?"

 

"Go, lit-up girl! Go, lit-up girl! Yay! Yay!" This from a wide-eyed child.

 

No one moved, not even Falya's disguised captor. The tension was fierce.

 

- - - - - -

 

Lussk yawned as he listened absentmindedly to the slug's orders. Ever since G0-T0's... disappearance, and with the arrival of those new bosses, he was unable to get any decent hunting' jobs. He regretted oh so much taking this sithspit of a job for Vogga. Oh well, at least it's easy and the pay is decent... the ex-bounty hunter thought to himself.

 

"So, eh-uh, Vogga, why's this freighter worth examining?"

 

The Hutt merely grunted, "You ask too much, all you need to do is tell that damned Toydarian what to do. Here, you fool, take this datapad and just hand it over to him. Since you obviously have too much on your mind to remember all this." Vogga spit at the Trandoshan's feet, and Lussk quickly reverted to his old instincts and hissed out curses in the languages of old. Apparently, Kath hounds didn't like to hear Trandoshan speak, as one of Vogga's beasts snapped at Lussk's ankles. With a zap, a whine, and a whimpering Kath hound retreating back into the shadows, Lussk quickly hid his blaster from view. It was the only weapon he managed to obtain after getting his equipment stolen...

 

Shortly thereafter, the Trandoshan arrived to face Quello at the Docking sector.

 

"Hey, Quello! Got some orders from the fat fool for you!"

 

At once the Toydarian flew out of his little shack and snatched the datapad from Lussk. "Eh? Why's Vogga wanna me to examine that wreck?"

 

Sighing, Lussk quickly took hold of the fat little creature by his neck and scowled, "That's what I'd like to know. Who's the pilot, and why is he or she or whatever so important?"

 

"I'm sorry, I can-hurk-not tell yo-" He gasped for air as he was released. "But I can show you the ship, might bring old memories, you know?"

 

Just as Lussk grabbed a small glance of the freighter, he gasped. "The Ebon Hawk? The Jedi that G0-T0 had that bounty on? That schutta?!" He winced as the thought of her opened up a few old wounds, and he quickly scratched at his prosthetic left arm, hoping to gain some relief. "WHERE IS SHE?! Tell me now..." He snarled.

 

"I don't know! I swe-" the Toydarian jerked about as Lussk nearly crushed his windpipe.

 

"Bah!" The ex-bounty hunter threw him down. The eyes of the Jekk'Jekk Tarr would know... wait...no, she's human isn't she? The fumes of the Tarr are poisonous... yes... and most of those in the Tarr stay in the Tarr... the eyes of the Cantina are much better. I'll also need some weapons... and for that I'll need credits, unless of course, I obtained them for "free".

 

"Tell Vogga that I'm resigning."

 

Stretching out his legs, he ran swiftly into the Flophouse, suffocated some fool and grabbed a stealth generator off the man's shelf, a swig of Juma Juice from the fridge, and awaited outside of Vogga's little palace for the dancing to end.

 

- - - - - -

 

"Oh, not good," Falya muttered, catching sight of Syscha's lightsaber. She knew what that kind of weapon meant to the type of people in the streets of Nar Shaddaa: another potential kill. They had to get out of that area... fast.

 

Hearing the words of the woman, the figure in blue turned slowly. Well-calloused hands moved the folds of his large over coat aside gently, and for a brief moment the hilt of a single lightsaber was displayed.

 

The figure gazes intently in to Tysyacha's eyes, a strange look passes across his face, then a gently smile touches his lips.

 

"Well met Syscha, it has been a long time since I last laid eyes upon you. I'm glad to see that time has not been too unkind to you my friend. Now please, I prey, lower your weapon, you hast has already brought us un-due attention that I wished to avoid, I sense the presence of someone familiar, and it is my fervent hope that it is not who I suspect."

 

There is a feeling of great determination emanating from the Figure, as he slowly walks forward.

 

"I see confusion in your eyes Syscha, surely you have not forgotten me. Look closer I beg of you, look with your feelings and see that I am he you once knew. Reach out through your senses and know me again, it is I Tadrick, Tadrick Marlane, we were padawans together, while I studied under master Get Gren D'ai. Remember me, and the time we were together on Dantooine. Remember me." his last words were spoken softly, with genuine sincerity evident in his voice.

 

At these words the crowd press in slightly, many showing further astonishment, others fear, anger, awe, and more than a few appear somewhat confused and a little stupefied.

 

Tadrick moves closer to avoid the press of the crowd.

 

"Please, I mean no harm to you, or Falya. Now, we must leave this place, quickly.”

 

Angry muttering pass through many of the crowd, a number of them starting towards the trio as they stood there, violent intent evident through their stance and bearing.

 

- - - - - -

 

"Halt!" the man said in a hard, commanding voice, stepping from the shadows towards the man and woman who stood in the center of the crowd.

 

Not today, you won't. Not today. he thought, as if talking to the blue-robed man.

 

The man and woman turned towards his voice as he stalked forward, pushing his way through the crowds.

 

There was a blank look on the woman's face, but the man in blue's face hardened into a semi-snarl. As he opened his mouth to speak, the man cut him off.

 

"No, this is not the place to speak, Tadrick. You and the...Jedi," he said, casting a glance at the woman but the look was lost beneath the hood of his cloak, "are in great danger at the moment. He was about to say more, but stopped, turning to the woman. “I would advise you to duck. Now.”

 

Half a second after the words left his mouth, a blaster shot was fired loose, missing a confused-looking Tysyacha by mere centimeters.

 

Turning back to the pair of Jedi, the man said, "Come with me."

 

As he turned to walk away, he sensed unrest in the man. Turning back to him, he said, "Stay if you want, Tadrick, but," he pulled his cloak back, discreetly flashing the view of a saberstaff hooked at his belt before letting his cloak's black folds envelope it again, "there will be...certain consequences."

 

- - - - - -

 

Lussk left the Cantina with little useful information, 100 credits well wasted. He scanned the sector and noticed a crowd that circled around possibly a few people. Squinting, he could see that they were focused on three people, humans, two females and one male. What's this now?

 

"Why, hello there Lussk, it's been a while..." the Trandoshan spun around to face Vrussk, his cousin. "Thinking about attacking one of those Jedi? That would be quite foolish, I do believe."

 

"'Those' Jedi? There's more than one? I assumed that there would be that one damned schutta that came by a while back... You remember." Lussk glanced at his arm and received a nod. "So... who's the other Jedi?" He spat on the floor.

 

"I do not know, I merely overheard their words, and I believe that only Jedi use the terms 'padawan' nowadays. But, I have nothing against either of them, and from what I can see, attacking the female would be all too foolish. She's brought out her saber. And yes, I do believe it's the same blade."

 

Wincing, Lussk pushed his cousin away at crept towards the crowd. He heard some thugs and mercs whispering to each other: "Should we try to take them out?" "Yeah, there's plenty of us, against just a few of them." "They'll go down easy if we catch them on surprise." "I'm sure the Exchange will be glad to see their heads."

 

Lussk chuckled. "What are you lookin' at, scum?" one of the hunters snarled at the Trandoshan.

 

"You fools believe that YOU can defeat two Jedi? HAH!"

 

"We'd have more of a chance than you, you slimy piece of bantha fodder." Lussk lashed out and pierced the Rodian hunter's palm with a knife.

 

"You'll see that the only fodder here is you fools. And maybe the civvies too." He pushed the mercs away and activated his stealth generator. "Go ahead and try to kill them. In fact, I'll give you a hefty sum to just try," his voice rang out from the air, as several thousand credits dropped to the floor. Courtesy of the Flophouse, he said to himself with a grin.

 

Lussk then waited in secret, waiting for the Jedi to move. He knew that the mercs would at the very least distract the three, long enough possibly, to get a decent shot at a head. He was the stealthiest Hunter in his time, no one had even thought about someone stalking them. The ex-hunter had mastered stealth movement. He could lash out and immediately return to his stealthed form. He could run. Looks like this old hunter might just be back in business...

 

- - - - - -

 

Silence filled the empty grave that was Malachor V. The Dark Side was still very strong, and could be felt throughout the atmosphere, as if it was some sort of invisible shield covering the planet.

 

Deep within the core of the graveyard world, in the heart of the ancient Trayus Academy, a man lay broken and battered on the floor. His flesh grayed from years of Dark Side corruption, cracked, scarred, and seared as if he had been wounded or killed multiple times, and slowly pieced back together. He appeared dead, but the Dark Side of the Force is as insidious and unpredictable as it is powerful, and such dark power can not be so easily undone. As the Sith corpse lay face down on the floor, his fingers slowly begin to move, his hand clenching into a fist and grasping tightly at his lightsaber. He opened his eyes, one still normal and brown, while the other was totally white, a great scar surrounding it. The man slowly rose to one knee, still unsure of his surroundings. He stood straight, speaking to himself in a deep, gravelly sounding tone.

 

"Where am I?...I feel as if I should recognize this place, but yet I do not...”

 

He fell to one knee and grasped suddenly at his side, where his skin bore the mark of a lightsaber wound, which, to his surprise, heals instantly and painfully beneath his hand.

 

He slowly rose and began to wander throughout this ancient place, the halls strewn with bodies, all recently deceased.

 

"What has happened here?” he wondered aloud, before nearly collapsing as his muscles spasmed again.

 

This pain...it...it consumes me....How do I ...still.....live?

 

He slowly made his way into what appeared to be a dormitory and up to a wall mirror. Standing before it, he nearly screamed in terror at what he saw.

 

"It can't be! That isn't even human! It’s...it’s...a walking...rotting...decayed...CORPSE!"

 

He turned quickly from the mirror which shattered beneath an invisible blow.

 

That is not me…it can’t be!

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innocent Nar Shaddaa dweller

What a good oxymoron. :xp:

 

Very good, I can't wait (well I can, but I don't want to) to see what will happen. But I have a little problem: only the Exile (and maybe the crew) learns that Goto is GO-TO, so everyone on Nar Shadaa would still call him Goto. Keep up the good work. :)

 

 

Is the guy at the end Atton or is Sion just waking up again?

 

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