Rescue

The villager looked up at me in awe. Her two children cowered behind her, peering out from behind the folds of her cloak. I heard the two Sith expell the last of their breath from their lungs on the ground behind me. I hooked my vibroknuckler on my belt and knelt down before the frightened family.

"My name is Maast Lofor," I said, "I'm here to rescue you."

It was the fifth such group that I had discovered that week. Rohak had wasted no time in putting me to work for the Aurillians, and had sent me off with Whip to organize a plan for locating several villagers who had been captured by the Sith.

Whip's information was sketchy at best, but it was enough to provide a vague picture of what had happened. During the assault, several groups of villagers had been seen being led away from Aurillia with Sith escorts, presumably for their own nefarious purposes. Their headings had been noted and scouts had reported signs of their movement a few days later, but there was no more detailed information as to their locations. It would be up to me to find them.

I had a fully fueled speederbike with me, a machine that seemed completely alien to the Aurillians. I could travel much faster than even their fastest scouts, so I volunteered to head up the search. I stored the information we had in my datapad and set out.

It didn't take me long to locate the first group. For some inexplicable reason, the Sith were holding them less than five kilometers from the village. It seemed that there was clearly a greater plan at work here, but how this piece fit into it, I could not guess.

Nevertheless, the guards posted with the stolen villagers were weak and ill-trained, and quickly dispatched. Over the course of a week I was able to locate all five of the missing groups and lead them back to Aurillia in safety.

It was a small thing, really, in light of the brutal destruction the village had faced as a whole. But having those five groups of Aurillians back meant a lot to the community. It seemed to give them a small measure of hope, and for that I was grateful.

Rohak expressed his own gratitude to me by giving me a statue that was crafted by Aurillian artisans and represented their village. It was a beautiful piece of art, though getting the five-foot high piece of granite home on the bike seemed like it would be a challenge in and of itself.

Then I was offered the true reward: knowledge.

From the unlikeliest of places came a wealth of information. It turned out that Whip, the small, unassuming man who was the first Aurillian I met, was something of a specialist in survival skills. These were not everyday survival skills, either. As an Aurillian, Whip was Force sensitive, and knew how to manipulate and channel the Force to enhance certain skills. He demonstrated to me his uncanny skills at things like maneuvering difficult terrain (he could move up nearly vertical cliff faces with ease and virtually walk on water over short distances) and interacting or avoiding indigent animal life (I watched him, with my own eyes, mask his own scent and presence and walk into the middle of a pack of hungry Rancors, just to tap one on the nose).

For the next several weeks, I spent all of my time with Whip, learning to survive. My knowledge of the Force grew.

The Aurillian Cycle

Understanding the story of Aurillia requires something of a shift in perception, especially when it comes to the understanding of the passage of time.

For most, the passage of time is a linear experience, with a past, present and future. The present becomes the past and the future passes into the present. There are beginnings and ends, clearly defined phases of time. Those who experience time this way are able to understand finality, completion, closure. Moreover, they can perceive of new experiences, completely unique temporal events that have not yet occurred in their memory.

Aurillians see time in a much different way. In Aurillia, time is cyclic. There is some unknown element that causes time to behave differently in this singular region on Dathomir. Whether this element is the mist surrounding the village, or some other, unseen influence, I do not know, nor could anyone tell me. In fact, when I tried to discuss it with the villagers, they looked at me as if I was speaking a foreign language. I quickly learned to accept this anomaly as simple fact so that I could continue to interact with them.

This made for some difficult mental exercises on my part, as there was no telling what day or time it would be when I emerged again from the mist. Whenever I went to Aurillia, I traveled between two timesets playing by completely different rules.

As you might understand, it is just as difficult for a person accustomed to linear time to understand the cyclic conception of time. I will do my best to relate it in comprehensible terms.

Aurillia is centered on a concentration in the Force. This is perhaps the most likely reason for the temporal inconsistencies in the area. There is no record of why this concentration exists, or what purpose it serves. The Aurillians know that it exists, as they are sensitive to the Force. They channel it for their purposes, which primarily consist of perpetual defense against the Force-sensitive Sith.

The Sith, at least the faction of that group that concerns Aurillia, are a group of Force-sensitive fanatics aligned with the Dark Side of the Force. They seek to exploit the Force for their own gain and for the acquisition of power.

The Sith know of Aurillia, and know of its connection with the Force. They seek to conquer the village stronghold and capture control of the concentration focused there. Because of this, the Aurillian elders maintain the mist surrounding the village. It prevents those from entering who are not sensitive to the Force, as well as blocks the movements of those aligned with the Dark Side. It is a powerful barrier, but not one that cannot be overcome. With sufficient numbers and consolidated power, the Sith can penetrate the mist and attack the village.

You may notice that I speak of everything here in the present tense. That is because in Aurillia, there exists only the present. This is the closest approximation of cyclic time that I can present in linear terminology. If the village were in a space governed by linear time, I would say that everything that happens in Aurillia has happened already in the past, and will happen again in the future. As it is, the village follows cyclic time, and the events there are in a perpetual state of occurring.

The cycle of events roughly follows this progression:
The Sith ready their forces, combine their efforts and assault Aurillia in a large-scale effort.
The Aurillian defense prevails, but only barely.
Aurillia is nearly destroyed during the attack and must rebuild completely.
The Aurillians train their citizens in the Force for defense against the Sith.
The Sith attempt periodic strikes in small groups, without success.
The Sith ready their forces, combine their efforts and assault Aurillia in a large-scale effort...

This is the tenuous cycle that prevails in Aurillia. It is unknown how long it has existed in linear time. For indeed, it does not exist at all in linear time. It is a cycle unto itself, governed only by the mysterious laws of the Force.

The story Rohak told me, of course, was separate from the linear perspective, and consequently rather different from what I have related here. It took me a long time to grasp what was actually going on in the village.

Rohak had never heard of the Jedi. He knew nothing of the old Jedi council, much like the Twi'lek I met on Dantooine, named K'te. Indeed, none of the Aurillians knew much of anything at all about life outside of their village, much less on planets other than Dathomir.

Yet they were skilled in the use of the Force (though they had no similar name for it). They practiced these skills to prepare in their defense against the Sith. They did not weild lightsabers, but they were proficient at manipulating the Force in ways far beyond what I was capable of. They accepted their Force skills as natural abilities that needed honing like any other trait. Aurillia, then, was a sect of people very grounded in the living Force, yet completely outside of Jedi lore.

"You passed through the mist," Rohak told me, "This tells me that you are cunning. You say that you defeated several Sith by your own hand. If this is true, this tells me that you are true of heart, as well."

"It is true," I answered.

"If you are willing to prove your integrity to us," the elder continued, "We will train you to better your skills. In return we ask only that you use those skills to aid our defense."

It dawned on me quickly what was taking place. Rohak was recruiting me to the Aurillian effort to repel the Sith. More importantly, though, he was offering me training.

Force training.

With the Jedi all but extinct and the only known heir to their lore deeply entrenched in the war to defeat the Empire, it seemed that Aurillia was the last outpost of Force knowledge in the Galaxy. I was certain my Path had led me here purposefully, and doubted that another such opportunity would present itself again.

Solemnly, I nodded to Rohak. "I will do whatever I can to help you. I am grateful for the opportunity to learn."

Rohak nodded back to me. "Such is the way it shall be, Maast Lofor. You shall reinforce our struggle, while we strengthen you. Together, we shall overcome all odds."

Thus began my training in Aurillia.

Rohak

Whip led me into the village of Aurillia, past smouldering, ruined buildings, the wreckage of all manners of structures. I sensed fear and anguish all around. The voices I heard all around me were filled with dispair. Horror had been visited on Aurillia, and its touch still lingered.

To the center of the village we walked, until we reached what appeared to be a central meeting area. An elderly man stood speaking to a soldier dressed in battle-worn armor. Whip approached the older man and said a few words, then beckoned me over.

"This is Rohak," Whip said, "He is the Elder of Aurillia."

I bowed my head. "I am honored," I said.

"Whip tells me that you survived a Sith attack," Rohak said. His voice crackled with age.

I nodded, then briefly recounted my tale of meeting the mysterious old man, and the subsequent Sith ambush. I showed Rohak the crystal that the old man had given me. He examined it silently, then looked at the soldier next to him with a raised eyebrow.

"This is Captain Sarguillo," Rohak said finally. "He will show you to a place where you can rest. You've had a long journey, I'm sure you're tired. Rest, and we will speak again later."

With that, Rohak nodded to the soldier Captain Sarguillo, then turned and headed off into the village.

The Captain brought me to a small hut at the edge of the meeting area. There was a small cot inside. He motioned to it, then departed, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I did not think I was very tired at first, as I had only journeyed a few kilometers from my camp that day. Nevertheless, after a few minutes I felt the weariness of the whole journey on Dathomir wearing on me, and I dozed off into sleepy blackness.

Sometime after the fall of night, I was awakened by Whip and led to see Rohak once more.

For the next several hours, I learned the story of Aurillia.

The Village

It is a strange sensation, suddenly encountering something that you did not know was there. It is something akin to falling from a great height with no sense of how far you are from the ground. That was the sensation that ran through my body when I crossed through the mist.

The mist.

The mist that was not there, yet was everywhere. From a distance I saw only a barren, empty plain. Yet after only a few hundred meters of driving from the edge of the tangled Dathomirian forest, I was suddenly engulfed in a deep blue fog, so thick that it eliminated almost all visibility and forced me to slow my bike to a crawl. I could not explain what it was, but I sensed that it was a protective cover of some kind, concealing whatever was beyond it. I felt nothing on my skin as I passed through it, but I sensed that it was there, teeming with a power of some kind.

The mist persisted for several hundred meters before suddenly dropping off. I emerged suddenly on the other side of the mysterious expanse after several hundred meters, and the air was suddenly clear again. It was darker, though, as if the light had been blotted out. I looked up and saw that the mist not only covered the ground, but extended up into the sky, creating a sort of enormous dome.

To say that I was without fear at this point would be a lie. The mist was such an alien entity, such an unexpected turn of events that I could feel myself tensing involuntarily. Yet I was determined to get to the bottom of this. I pressed on.

After about another kilometer's drive, a plume of smoke appeared on the horizon. Soon, I saw a large wall appear ahead of me. I slowed as I approached to get a better view of what lay ahead.

It was a settlement. The wall surrounding it was a defense installation, but that defense had been breached. There were gaping holes all around it, and evidence of explosions and carbon scoring. There were no sounds of battle currently, but it was clear that a large one had occurred here, and not long ago.

I drove around the perimeter of the wall until I reached a gate. There, I was surprised to find a young man. Small enough to be mistaken for a boy, he clutched a battered stun baton and stood nervously, shifting his weight back and forth. When he saw me, he swallowed and took a step back.

"Stay back!" he warned. "Don't come any closer!"

I shut down my speeder and dismounted slowly, then raised my hands in a peaceful gesture. I did my best to exert a calming influence. "I'm not here to hurt you," I said.

"Who are you?" the man said quickly, "Why are you here?"

"My name is Lofor," I answered. "Maast Lofor. I'm here because...because I'm looking for information. I was attacked. One of those who attacked me was carrying this." Cautiously, I reached into a pocket and produced the waypoint datapad that I had found on the Sith thug. I offered it to the man.

With even more caution, he approached me, stun baton always at the ready, and took the datapad from my hand. His eyes widened as he looked at it, and seemed to recognize the device. "They attacked you?" he said.

"Yes," I nodded, "They tried to kill me."

An incredulous look crossed his face. "And yet, you live."

"I defended myself. The won't trouble anyone again."

The man swallowed again, but his demeanor had clearly changed. I sensed relief in him.

"Where am I?" I asked. "What is this place?"

"This is Aurillia," he answered. "My name's Whip."

Dathomirian Trek

I frowned and checked the waypoint datapad again, for the fourth time. The location marked should have been just over two kilometers from where I was standing, but all I saw in front of me was a large, empty expanse of Dathomir's scarred landscape. There was nothing there.

I had driven for what had seemed days since arriving at Dathomir's tiny Science Outpost, one of two locations on the planet where anybody lived. In reality, it had been a trip of about six hours. At first, I had feared an encounter with a Nightsister, or perhaps something even worse, but in the end it was the environment of the planet itself that was the biggest hindrance.

Dathomir's confounding surface is riddled with an extensive network of valleys and chasms, like the deep scars of a vicious attack by some ancient, clawed giant. Such environmental hazards are difficult enough to maneuver through with a speederbike, which performs best over level ground. To add to the misery, though, Dathomir's ravines are infested with a vile species of tree, that is more a weed than anything else, but astoundingly hardy and tangled. Driving through it is almost always impossible. Consequently, a lot of time is wasted trying to find alternate routes around particularly thick patches of this vegetation.

After six hours of hard riding, I now stood on a small rise at the edge of one such ravine, where I had a clear vantage point of the landscape to the east, for several kilometers. From the intelligence I had gathered from the dead Sith, I expected to see a settlement of some kind, a town, an encampment, something. Anything. But there was nothing but an odd, empty plain.

And yet...not empty.

As I concentrated on the distant horizon, I could feel a faint glimmer of presence rippling through the Force. There was something out there, I was now sure. What or where it was, though, was beyond my skill to know. To find out, I would have to venture out into the empty expanse I saw before me.

That, however, was a task for another day. Exhausted, dehydrated and sore, I made camp for the night. Tomorrow, I would investigate the mysterious plain to the East.

Screenshots Update

Just a brief note to say that I've updated the hosting location of my screenshots...

They are now hosted here:
http://photobucket.com/albums/v693/maast/

This site allows for more convenient viewing, as well as direct linking, so I can post pictures into my entries.

On the Dark Planet

It was hard to believe how much time had actually passed since Spiderwell and I had laid the foundations of the Galactic Domination Corporation. It seemed like only yesterday.

But there was no denying the changes that had taken place. When I had last spent any significant time around Mos Nox, the GDC was but a fledgling start-up, with fewer than 10 member partners. I had no political aspirations of any kind. Now, I was the elected Mayor of an independent city-state, and our Corporation was the most powerful group in the northern Dantooine hemisphere.

Consequently, our own businesses and economic interests had grown at an equally exponential rate. Spiderwell's success secret, in my opinion, had always been his skills in interpersonal relationships. The Wookiee just knew how to talk to people (as ironic as that may seem, considering the odd collaboration of howls and growls that is Shiryywook), and as a result, people liked doing business with him. To say that everyone on Dantooine knew Spiderwell of Spiderwell's World of Medicines was only a slight exaggeration, if at all.

It was good to know, then, after all this time, that Spiderwell's defining characteristic had not changed, despite his success. What's more, he was just as willing as ever to lend me his contact files. He knew all manners of Rangers, bodyguards, soldiers for hire. If there was an expedition to be mustered, he knew the personnel to call.

I was humbled by this generosity, of course. But something told me that bringing others along would not be wise. It was just a feeling, perhaps, but it was an insistent one. I needed to investigate the Dathomir location I discovered in the Siths' data alone.

Spiderwell had been on several reconnaisance expeditions to Dathomir, looking for rare herbal roots and vegetation that he sought in order to increase the potency of his buffs. As I had never been there, he was able to provide me with lots of insightful information about the planet.

Dathomir is a dark, foreboding planet. Most sentient beings can survive in its atmosphere, though its terrain is extreme and its native inhabitants dangerous. There are few that are comfortable going to Dathomir, and none who enjoy it. In addition to the brackasets, baz nitches and carnivorous plants that are scattered generously around its forbidding continents, Dathomir is also home to two of of the most feared factions in the galaxy - the Nightsisters and the Spider Mountain Clan. These two groups had been at war for as long as anyone could remember. The Nightsisters were reputed to be weilders of great power, mystic weapons and unstoppable force. Needless to say, I was not excited that the next stage of my journey along the Path would take me to this dangerous place.

Spiderwell and I spent another night at our camp outside Mos Nox, discussing the challenge ahead of me, as well as other municipal matters that needed attention.

At the back of my mind through the whole night, though, were my origins, where all this had began. Thinking about the GDC's fledgling days in that very region of Tatooine carried my mind back even further to Rori, to a spaceflight that was supposed to be a pleasant holiday trip...to an unexpected Imperial encounter and the calamity that sent my life spinning blindly on a Path into the unknown future.

All I knew was that there was something important waiting for me on Dathomir.

What I didn't know, though, was if it was going to give me answers.

It seemed there was only one way to find out.

Attack on the Sith

Within moments of my arrival at the Sith encampment south of Mos Nox, it was clear that my preparations had been unnecessary. Warranted, of course, for the sake of caution, but Spiderwell's best buffs had clearly been overkill.

The encampment consisted solely of a large tent near a smoldering fire pit, surrounded by several dark lumps on the ground. I had parked my speederbike about one hundred meters away and approached on foot, but before I even reached the camp, I knew that these lumps were the Sith bandits.

Was it Jawa Beer that had inebriated them to such a degree that they were the lifeless, unconscious lumps I saw before me? Perhaps it was a case of Bantha Blasters, stolen from the cantina in Bestine. Whatever the cause, it was readily apparent that the entertainment they had provided themselves with the night previous had taken charge of these worthless beings.

I stopped at the edge of their campsite, literally tapping my foot in the dust and surveying the spectacle before me with disgust. Certainly I did not relish the thought of slaughtering sleeping, drunken slobs such as the ones before me, however vile I was certain they to be. Yet searching their bodies and escaping without a fight did not seem right, either. Considering, I stepped forward and quietly prodded one of the sleeping forms with my boot. There was no response. The Sith did not even budge. I bent over to have a closer look at him. During the attack by the first three Sith I encountered, I hadn't had a great deal of time to examine them closely. I wanted to see exactly what it was I was dealing with.

As I stooped near the lifeless form, a dark wash of dread ran down the length of my spine. Too late, I had sensed a trap.

With incredulity, I watched the dark lump at my feet roll swiftly away, then rise to its full height. The Sith was awake. In my peripheral vision, I saw movement from the other side of the camp. All of the Sith were awake!

Cursing my own arrogance and stupidity, I took several quick steps back and raised my vibroknuckler to the ready. Just a moment earlier, I had been telling myself I was overprepared. Now, as dark shapes rose ominously all around me, I realized just how wrong I had been. I had been far too confident in my meager abilities with the Force, and it might cost me my life.

I struggled to calm my emotions as the dark figures advanced toward me. There were six of them, each carrying a gaderiffi baton with a confidence that suggested much more extensive training and skill than I had previously surmised. This wasn't going to be easy. My suspicions of their competence were further confirmed when they didn't rush me. I had expected them to come at me with everything they had, like the last of their kind I had encountered, but instead they approached cautiously, sizing me up with intelligent, ruthless eyes. I couldn't allow them any more time to think than I had already given them.

With a growl, I launched a Spitting Rawl attack at the Sith closest to me. This was a devastating attack that a smuggler had taught me in Kadaara, which crippled the target's sensory abilities and landed a brunt force attack on their torso. The Spitting Rawl can kill an ordinary man within a matter of seconds. The Sith, however, merely stumbled a half-step back, grimaced, and continued to advance toward me. It had taken the brutal hit with hardly a reaction. Refusing to be intimidated, I dove to the side and shoulder-rolled to my feet, a few meters away from another Sith. Fortunately, this one had not expected this sudden move, and another Spitting Rawl crippled him before he knew what was happening.

At once, there were two more on me. I feinted as if to muster my strength to throw them off me, but then dropped to the ground and thrust upward with my vibroknuckler, making a vicious, slashing arc from one to the other. They fell backward, both screaming in pain.

I rolled to my feet and wiped the blood out of my eyes to see the remaining three Sith crouching in front of me, gaderiffi batons at the ready. Wary after seeing their numbers reduced by half, they waited to see what I would do next, hoping to force me to make the next move.

I was secretly thankful for their hesitation, as the explosion of action I had just unleashed had dramatically exhausted me. If they had pounced, I might have been finished. As it was, I had time to catch my breath and wait for the fatigue to fade somewhat. The largest Sith, directly in front of me, signaled to his companions. They fanned out, circling around behind me.

To anyone untrained for such tactics, a simultaneous assault from three directions spelled almost certain death. However, to a well-trained Teräs Käsi warrior, such a predicament was ideal, contrary as it might seem. A Teräs Käsi Master uses the art like a gunslinger uses firearms. Consequently, just as a Master Pistoleer can turn a situation where he is surrounded on its head, into a deadly crossfire against his enemies, a Teräs Käsi Master can do the same with melee assailants.

The Sith were tough and determined, but they were still thugs at best. They reacted as I had anticipated, rushing forward together and attacking me at different target zones. The two that I could see in front of me were going for my head and torso; I could only assume that the third was targeting my legs. The obvious reaction would be to block the forward attacks to my upper body, but that would leave me exposed to the attack from the rear, which would cripple my legs and end my ability to defend myself.

Sacrifice is sometimes required to gain that which is important. I knew that the Sith would not expect me to take a blow that I saw coming. I would use this to my advantage.

They made their move, the two Sith before me snarling as one came in high and the other in a sweeping arc toward the center of my chest. I threw up my fists to create a blocking wall against the attack targeting my head and tensed my abdominal muscles to receive the second blow. The Sith's eyes widened as he connected - he had not expected to be able to make contact.

I was already reaching out with the Force, however, trying to sense the third Sith behind me. Suddenly I knew where the attack was going. I shifted my hips and lashed out backward with my foot, blindly yet seeing through the Force, connecting squarely with the Sith's nose. It exploded under my heel, and he fell to his back with a cry of agony.

With several quick movements, the two in front of me were dispatched before they knew what was happening. Wasting no time, I picked up one of their gaderiffi batons and spun to face the third, who was cowering on the ground with his hands over his face. I pounced upon him, thrust my vibroknuckler into the soft spot under his chin and lifted it up before me. The metal blade held the thug's head securely in place as I swung the gaderiffi baton into his temple. His mangled head fell to the ground, and he was no more.

Adrenaline and instincts forced me to my feet immediately, urged me to prepare for the next assault, but there was none. At my feet was only the carnage of the attack and the darkened, blood-stained sands of Tatooine.

On the corpse of one of the Sith I located an encrypted datapad, similar to the one given to me in an alley in Wayfar. That one had directed me to the location of Obi-Wan Kenobi's former home. I wondered where this one pointed. Along with the waypoint datapad, I found a data disk, the contents of which I could not discern until I returned to my base camp.

I thumbed my comlink and signaled to Spiderwell that I was returning, and that he should meet me at the camp. Then I mounted my speederbike and roared North.

Spider was waiting for me when I arrived. He looked me over and then roared a comment in Shyriiwook.

"I'm fine," I responded, "It's not my blood."

I showed him the items I had recovered, then pulled my portable terminal from my pack and inserted the data disk. The disk was encoded and access was restricted, but it was a simple password block that was easily routed - another trick the smuggler from Kadaara had taught me. With the protection thus disabled, the information contained on the disk appeared.

"It looks like military plans," Spiderwell commented in Shyriiwook, looking over my shoulder.

I nodded. "They are rendezvous orders and assault plans. It looks like the Sith are gathering for a large-scale assault on a fortification of some kind."

"But where?" Spiderwell asked.

I picked up the waypoint datapad and looked at Spiderwell. "I assume this will give us a clue. It's referenced here, in this file, as the target location. See? The serial number matches the datapad."

"Why wouldn't they just name the location in the files?"

I shrugged. "Maybe for security, in case someone got hold of the plans. They wouldn't be able to identify the target. These two items were probably not supposed to be kept in the same place."

I pressed a button on the underside of the datapad to activate it, but it only responded with a negative-sounding beep.

"Encrypted," Spiderwell said.

I nodded, then pulled a cable from a port in my terminal and connected it to the datapad. I ran a few cracking programs, and soon the encryption was broken. I tried the button again. This time, the datapad responded properly and displayed the coordinates of the Siths' target.

We both looked at it for a moment, then at each other.

"So," I said, "Do you know anything about Dathomir?"

Morning Preparations

I arose an hour before break of day, quickly gathered my things and shook Spiderwell's sleeping form. The wookiee rose with a groan, wiping the sleep out of his eyes and the sand out of his white fur.

As Spider readied his medical droid and prepared his buffs, I knelt before the quiet embers of last night's fire and concentrated, trying to quiet my mind and feel the Force flowing through me. I tried to cast all images out of my mind and focus on sensing my immediate surroundings. As those became clear in my mind, I searched further out, expanding my internal vision in every increasing distances. The Force allowed me to see quite far, nearly into the center of Mos Nox, but it was not yet powerful enough to reach the Sith encampment further to the South.

When I returned to the immediate and opened my eyes, Spiderwell was already applying his buffs to me, grunting softly to himself in Shyriiwook as he did so. He noticed me open my eyes and asked, "Are you ready?"

I nodded silently, feeling for the first time that morning the weight of the task ahead of me. I turned my concentration to my inner body, feeling the power of the buffs' enhancement course through me like silver water. The initial elation of a buff can be psychologically addictive. There were many who, once they tasted one, could not get enough buffs, and eventually succumbed to an overdose of the powerful medicines. For this reason, I acknowledged the euphoric feeling, but reminded myself that it would pass, and set my mind firmly on the task ahead.

During the previous night, I had considered whether a stealth-based infiltration of the Sith encampment might be more prudent, considering the circumstances. Though I did not relish the thought of taking more life, however, I realized that these Sith would press an immediate attack on me, were I discovered. I sensed that the encampment was filled with more of the same tribe as the three who had previously attacked me. There was a great deal of hate to the South. If they truly were of the same ilk, they were not worthy of the consideration of preserving them. They were a scourge to be erased.

Since destruction of the camp was the only answer, I then considered whether calling in reinforcements, such as the Temple City Militia (who were under my sole command), would not be wise. I decided, though, that a large-scale involvement in this matter would likely raise more attention than would be helpful in the long run. If I could decimate the camp quickly and quietly by myself, the chance that a larger force might discern what had happened and come after me was relatively low. If I stormed in with a large assault group, however, the chances of leaving more detailed evidence behind grew exponentially. No, this was a solo effort. I needed to get in and out quietly, then cover my tracks.

Without being able to see into the camp from a distance, I could only sense their presence and create a general plan of strategy for the assault. I discussed a few tactical maneuvers with Spiderwell, mostly to reassure myself of the plan's validity, then rose and swung my leg over my waiting Speederbike. I flipped the ignition switch and the engines erupted with a roar, spewing bright blue flames into the early morning air. With a nod to Spiderwell, I was off.

The Eve of Battle

It was a Sith encampment. I could feel it.

Nothing in the ordinary data waypoint storage device I had retrieved from the corpse of the dead Sith assailant told me this. It gave no indication of what destination it pointed toward, only a location somewhere in the desert several kilometers South of Mos Nox.

Yet I knew that whoever traveled to that location would be facing more of the same scum that had just attacked me. It was a feeling, a tingling throughout my body, yet detached from it at the same time. The Force was speaking to me, and it was telling me to be prepared.

The first three Sith had been dispatched almost without any trouble at all, but an encampment was sure to shelter more than just three. It was time to call in some support.

As I have mentioned before, since leaving Tatooine, Spiderwell had established a reputation for himself as a medical specialist that placed him clearly in the upper echelons of the profession. He was particularly skilled at crafting and applying combat medical enhancement preparations -- more commonly known as "buffs." Buffs are a medium-term enhancement that allow the patient to endure far more physical abuse than would normally be possible, by artificially enhancing the body's natural defenses and pain response. They also allowed a person to undertake physical activity for an abnormally extended period of time, due to their great enhancement of endurance and recovery. The only thing they didn't help was psychic stress and battle fatigue -- common side effects that professional soldiers often experienced after long-term battle, but not something I expected to encounter here.

Spiderwell was on the planet Talus when I reached him, inspecting his water collection installations that supplied his buff production facilities with precious, enhanced Talus spring water. I had been secretive about my Path with nearly everyone except Spiderwell, so there was no need to go into great details about my situation. I told him I needed him, and he came.

Luckily the hop from Talus to Tatooine was not particularly long, and he arrived in Bestine later that night. We made camp outside the northern border of Mos Nox, where we enjoyed the opportunity to catch up with each other and regale each other with stories of the old days. Finally, I explained what had happened to me recently -- about my encounter with the mysterious old man and the attack by the Sith. Spider didn't ask many questions. He just told me that whatever I needed, I had.

My plan, I told him, was to assault the camp at dawn. Under the cover of the early morning desert shadow and the lethargy of the chill in the air, I expected to be able to take them by surprise and dispatch them before they knew what was happening. Then I hoped to learn more about who they were, and what they were doing.

There was no question in my mind that they needed to be exterminated. Though their encampment was still kilometers away, I could feel their presence like a dagger in my back. They reeked with the Dark Side of the Force.

Spider agreed to apply his best buffs to me in the early morning, then stand by in Mos Nox in case I needed further assistance. He dabbled in handgun combat at that time, but was no expert. He could, however, apply more short-term medical enhancements during combat if needed.

Thus agreed, we retired for the night. For several long minutes I watched the stars of the galaxy drift slowly by overhead, and wondered what the next day would bring.

Sith Attack

The Sith were dead almost before I knew they were even there. Their bodies hit the sandy ground with three dull thumps, kicking up three small clouds of dust into the air.

I was on Tatooine to clear up some final real estate arrangements outside of Mos Nox. We were finally letting go our plot of land where the GDC had originally been headquartered, to some local entrepreneurs hoping to make a quick buck on some new-fangled solar energy capture devices. I was just happy to be done with it all - I had no patience for playing landlord anymore.

The Sith had come up suddenly, roaring up on Swoop bikes and howling as they hurled themselves at me. They were human, or humanoid anyway, and frightful in appearance, dressed in dirty, dark cloaks and baring teeth as yellow as the sands of Tatooine.

Instinctively, I lowered myself and extended my right leg, sweeping it in a tight radius - a basic Teräs Käsi defense against a charging attack. The sweep caught two of the Sith and sent them sprawling headfirst into the dirt. The other leaped over my leg, just barely escaping the blow to his shins.

In an instant, I was up and at the ready as the third Sith came at me, this time raising a vicious looking dagger and preparing to strike with all his strength. That was his undoing, of course. I let him throw himself into the blow with all of his power, then simply evaded at the last moment. Before he knew what was happening, the dagger had fallen out of his hand, into mine and was then lodged into his lower back. A sharp twist ensured that his spinal cord would never again send signals to his brain.

The other two were back up and upon me by that time, but they were dispatched more easily than their partner. They launched themselves at me as if to grapple, but with two easy blows they both fell, the bone of their noses impaled into the grey matter inside their heads.

I looked at the three bodies sprawled in the sand around me in bewilderment. I had done battle before, but this was the first time that I had been hunted. Every other encounter I had experienced had been of my own volition, of my own design.

I considered what the Old Man had said, and the crystal he had given me to protect. It must have been what they were after.

I knelt down to search the bodies, to see if I could find any clues as to their origins or intentions. Aside from a few credits, I found nothing on two of them. On the third, however (the one with his own dagger lodged in his spine), I found a datadisc. I picked it up and examined it.

It was a waypoint disc. It told the location of, well, something.

It seemed my return to Dantooine would be delayed. I had a new destination for the time being.

An Old Man

Finding Ben Kenobi's hovel, feeling the surge of truth and power flow through me to my toes and knowing that a part of my written destiny had been realized -- all of this brought me up to a level of mental and emotional awareness that was difficult to process.

What's more, returning home to Dantooine and taking up my daily responsibilities once again felt hollow and empty in comparison. I felt like I had touched the true nature of the universe for a brief moment, only to be forced to let it slip through my fingers.

Maybe that's why I dismissed the old man at first. Maybe I was too wrapped up in my own conflicting emotions to notice, or even care, that he was studying me intently from a distance, leaning on a wooden staff and rubbing his chin.

I was leaning against the wall at the shuttleport in Crystal Point, a town that once thrived but had recently declined due to an insurgence of raids by Force crystal hunters. The town was located just South of the Crystal Caves, where many of the galaxy's most precious gems had been found. Crystal Point would have been a bustling metropolis, a huge mining town, if it hadn't been for the multitude of creatures that infested the Caves. The place was inhospitable, accessible to only the most hearty of adventurers. What's more, the crystal hunters, a nomadic band of scavengers who were reputed to wield weapons of mystical power, frequently preyed upon anything and anyone who neared the caverns. Their influence was great enough to have stifled the growth of Crystal Point considerably.

I had come to Crystal Point on a surveying mission, following the data from my mineral surveying tools as they pointed me toward a dense lode of metals that I could use as raw materials in manufacturing.

It was a good excuse, and a viable one, but nevertheless I knew that the real reason I had traveled out to this remote corner of Dantooine was the image of Obi-wan Kenobi's earthen hut, which had altered in my mind, changing from a source of inspiration to a haunting omen. I could not manage to stop thinking about it, and the Path I feared might have come to an end. For what was I to do now, that Master Skywalker's counsel had proven so significant, yet without result? I knew nothing more than I did a month ago. I had come far, but felt I had moved nowhere.

As my mind occupied itself with the arduous task of untangling this mess of thoughts, the old man finally approached me, scuffling up a small slope to stand before me.

"Maast Lofor," he said, "The Force is with you."

I looked up at him, my mind suddenly wrenched from its introspection. "How do you know that?" I asked, incredulous.

"I know a great many things, my dear boy," the man answered, "But some are more obvious than others. The Force is on you like bark on a tree, friend. A blind man could see it."

I started to look down at my body, before catching myself and blushing at my own foolishness. The old man didn't seem to notice.

"I need your help," he said.

I nodded. "Go on," I said.

The old man glanced around us furtively, then stepped closer. I saw now that he was dressed in the clothes of a simple pilgrim: wrapped boots, cloth pants and a baggy poncho of nondescript color and material. From beneath the worn garment, a gnarled hand suddenly produced a curious looking object. He held it out to me.

"I need you to protect this for me."

I looked at the object. It was a crystal, I saw now, transluscent and bluish in color. It had three protrusions, being in fact a cluster of crystals, and its facets were large and reflective. It seemed to glow from within. "What is it?" I asked.

He hesitated, as if unsure of how to respond. "It is a guide. It is a very useful object in the right hands."

"And those hands are mine?" I asked.

The old man shrugged. "I don't know, boy. Could be. All I know is that this crystal means more than my old life, and if I don't pass it on soon, both of those things are going to fall into the wrong hands."

"What do you mean?"

"You ever hear of the Sith?" he said. When I shook my head, he continued, "The Sith are Force users, but from the wrong side of the tracks, if you know what I mean. The Dark Side. Bad medicine. They caught wind of our little secret here, and they've been on my tail ever since I left Dearic. They'll catch up with me soon, unless I give this to someone who can properly protect it. You seem like the type."

Thoughts of my long, hard hours spent training in the arts of Fencing and Teräs Käsi flashed before my mind. I was indeed prepared for such a task. The possibility of that being a coincidence was now almost certainly ruled out.

I nodded, and accepted the crystal. I placed it in my pack, wrapped in a spare shirt and concealed as best I could.

"Listen," the old man said, "These Sith are up to no good. They've been causing a lot of trouble for the people where I come from. When they come after you -- and they will, believe me -- try and see what you can find out from them. Maybe you can discover some information that could be of help."

"Where do you come from?" I asked, "And how will I find you?"

"I come from Aurilia," he said, "And don't worry about it. You'll find me when you need to find me. Or," he said, a sly grin crinkling his weathered face, "I should say, I'll find you." With that he turned, and hobbled away just as the Crystal Point shuttle arrived behind me.

Homecoming

It was about another week before I was able to return to Tatooine. Business in Temple City kept me very busy. I was coordinating the immigration of another organization, the Galaxy Force Guild (, later to be restructured and renamed as Galaxy Force Seekers ) into Temple City. Their leader during this move was Voluptuous Forrestier; after the restructuring, Iavale Alici took over. Both were instrumental in boosting Temple City's population.

Once the initial arrangements were made, I left the final details to GFS and my Militia, and took a long-needed excursion to Tatooine. I declined passage on the express shuttle, less because it was an Imperial vessel than because of the more relaxing nature of the longer flight. A few days in space did much to reinvigorate my exhausted mind, and when I arrived on Tatooine I felt refreshed and ready to explore.

Finding Obi-Wan Kenobi's former residence was no easy task. This was advantageous in one sense, because the Empire had not been able to locate it, thus ensuring its survival (assuming the harsh environment of desert Tatooine had not destroyed it). Of course, it also meant that there was a lot of legwork to be done before I could find it myself.

My first stop was Bestine, where I still knew several locals, including a few of the bartenders in the cantina near the starport. It was good to catch up with old friends, but I found no leads in the Capitol. After a few Jawa Beers and some consideration, I decided to see what I could find out in Anchorhead, a city known to sympathize with the Rebels. I knew that Kenobi had been a Rebel sympathizer as well, so I figured that was as good a place as any to look.

In Anchorhead, several people I talked to seemed to know something, but were unwilling to voice it. It seemed that the Empire's reach was long, even here. Finally, in the underground level of a dusty, old cantina, I ran into a Rebel officer, undercover but recognizable to me from a small insignia he wore on his bandolier. I introduced myself as a soldier of the Alliance and explained to him what I was looking for. He considered, then told me a few names of people I should talk to in the remote town of Wayfar. They might be able to help further.

I boarded a shuttle for Wayfar and looked up the people the Rebel officer had told me about. A few I could not locate. I found the name of another, but it seemed he was dead. Only one was I able to meet in person. He only agreed to speak with me at an undisclosed location, and made me promise never to reveal his name. And, of course, he wanted several thousand credits for the information. After I gave my consent and my money, he told me that he knew the location of Kenobi's former home. He programmed the coordinates into my datapad, then scurried away into the shadows.

Bristling with anticipation, I hurriedly boarded my speederbike and opened up the throttle as far as it would go before I even left the gates of Wayfar. I had never expected to find success so soon - I half expected the information to be false and to find myself waylaid in the desert.

Sure enough, though, as I neared the location stored in my datapad, I saw a small, earthen hut, half covered in the yellow sand of the desert. I had found Kenobi's home.

Long abandoned, looted clean and scoured by time and weather, the hut would have held no interest for any passing observer. To someone who did not know its significance, it was simply another Tatooine home, abandoned long ago and left to the womp rats and scyks.

To me, however, it was a revelation. As I stepped through the doorway, I suddenly felt a surge of energy course through my body. I could see every detail with infinite precision. I was aware of everything around me at once. I sensed every movement, every tiny motion, from the scuttling of the dune beetles outside to the beating of my own heart in my chest.

My quest for enlightenment had opened a massive new door. This I knew instinctively.

The Force was with me.

The Alliance

Another major turning point in my life came with my decision to join the Rebel Alliance.

Obviously, mentioning specific details about this event and the process involved in joining that group would not be wise. There are those who deny the very existence of the Alliance, and many others who would not hesitate to execute any member of its ranks that they discovered. Therefore, I'll have to remain rather general about this topic.

My decision came when I finally realized that the Empire was having a direct impact on my life and business, and that the problems it was causing myself and my fellow citizens would not go away on their own. The constant harrassment in Imperial cities like Bestine was bad enough -- some days, it seemed that I couldn't take a step without being scanned for contraband spice or sliced weaponry. Rarely did they find anything, but the searches continued regardless.

But the restrictions on business, travel and virtually all other aspects of life on Dantooine were tainted by the Empire. Temple City, although technically an autonomous city-state, was nevertheless required to pay kick-backs to the Dantooine Imperial Command -- a percentage of our shuttleport travel fees and vehicle repair services. The fees were considerable, and would have been even greater if we hadn't elected to forgo all taxes entirely, sparing our citizens at least some of the expense and thus dodging some of the financial bullets through a loophole in the system.

Worst, however, was what I learned when I ventured to a secret Imperial research facility called The Warren with my friend and fellow citizen, La-la Kla-Eha. La-la told me that The Warren was something that I, as a person in a leadership role, needed to see. She had been there before, and served as my guide through the facility.

I regret that I must also remain vague on this point as well. Criticism of the Empire is frowned upon almost as much as loyalty to the Rebellion. Suffice it to say, the Empire's control of the facility was less than satisfactory, and many lives had been irrevocably altered because of their neglect. The Warren was a fearsome, dreadful place, to which I never wish to return.

I am thankful to La-la for showing me this facility, which laid the nature of the Empire out to me in the plain light of day. Prompted by these new-found realizations, I followed up on a few rumors that I had heard and journeyed to an undisclosed location on Corellia, where I was able to speak with some key Alliance recruiters. I underwent an initiation of sorts, which found me performing duty missions for several different commanders as my loyalty was tested. For a time I was under the command of Admiral Ackbar. Later, I did some side jobs for Han Solo and his Wookiee co-pilot, Chewbacca.

Finally, I was given the singular honor of lending my service to the legendary Luke Skywalker himself.

I cannot disclose any information about that meeting. Master Skywalker is too precious to the cause to risk it. I can say, however, that it was extremely life-changing. Master Skywalker counseled me in the nature of the Force, imparting me with a great deal of information that was overwhelming in its significance.

This meeting with Luke Skywalker convinced me that joining the Alliance was furthering my Path toward my personal enlightenment, whatever that might be.

Master Skywalker's last piece of advice before releasing me to general duty and declaring me a sworn member of the Rebel Alliance was to visit the homestead of the Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, on Tatooine.

He would not tell me why it was so important that I go there, but he insisted that I promise to do it. He spoke with an urgency that implied he knew something about me that I did not. I agreed, vowing to seek out the hermit's hovel as soon as I could.

Hero's Quests

The next period of my life was punctuated by several significant events, as well as many insignificant ones. For the sake of my readers' interests, I shall recount only those major events here that changed my life profoundly. Not all of these events may have taken place in the order in which I shall recount them.

The first notable event that I should record is my achievement of being named Hero of Tatooine.

I do not record this event because of any personal pride or need to demonstrate my superiority. I feel only that it is necessary to demonstrate the path that led me further to my ultimate destiny.

I had begun my training in the Teräs Käsi art, and had begun searching for suitable locations to practice my skills. I needed living targets to practice on, for the most realistic feedback, but I was not interested in harming innocent people or creatures of the good-natured variety.

The GDC members were most helpful in helping me find good hunting grounds. One such place in particular was located on the planet Tatooine, and commonly referred to as the Squill Cave, though I don't believe that it had any officially registered name. It was simply an extensive system of caverns below the ground near Mos Entha, which was infested with a large, rapidly reproducing colony of mountain squills. The beasts were able to replenish their numbers so quickly that it had proven impossible to eradicate them all. They were nasty, mutated creatures that served no valuable purpose. No one would miss them in the slightest. Even better, they were humanoid in form so they were well suited for practicing martial arts.

Each expedition I made to the Squill Cave was more and more successful. Eventually, I was able to defend myself so well that I could venture very deep into the cavern's dark reaches. Finally one day, after hours of combat, stealth and sweat, I found myself at the very bottom of the dank pit, face to face with an old man.

He was sitting by a small fire, in a modest encampment tucked away in a corner of the rock. I was so astonished to find such a sight at the bottom of a cavern, that I stood speechless before him for many minutes. Finally, he broke the silence and spoke, his raspy voice reverberating against the wet cavern walls.

"Well?" he said, "What, you've never seen an old man before?"

I shook myself out of my bewildered haze and stepped forward. I introduced myself and asked the man what he was doing at the bottom of the Squill Cave. He told me that he lived there during the warm season, taking refuge from the desert heat. The squills didn't bother him, he said, though he did not explain why. He could walk freely among them without fear of being attacked.

"You must be a warrior of some aptitude to have made it all the way down here in once piece," he said.

I shrugged and told him that I was a student of Teräs Käsi, not yet a certified Master, but well-learned and experienced.

He raised an eyebrow at this, and began to speak of the "world above," as he called it, and the political changes that were underway in that domain. It seemed a strange subject for an old hermit in a cave to be talking about with a bloody-handed stranger coated in squill mucus and gore, but I supposed that he didn't get much chance to talk with anybody down there. I told him that I was aware of the political strife caused by the conflict between the Empire and the Rebellion that was said to oppose it, but that I had not chosen to become involved. He asked me whether I supported the Empire's ideals, as a matter of principle. Truthfully, I told him I did not.

The hermit said that Tatooine was in need of people like me, who believed in the autonomy of the people and who were strong enough to stand up for that which they believed. He asked me if I would be willing to validate my principles by helping those in need. I told him that I would.

Thus began a long quest to enact change in the lives of some of Tatooine's inhabitants, to right some wrongs and to uphold nature's balance. The hermit gave me several tasks to complete, and only cryptic information as to where I could find them. He said that a true hero of Tatooine would understand its people and would know where to look.

As it turned out, that was true enough. I had spent a great deal of time on Tatooine before and after moving to Temple City. I spoke with some people that I knew, in the Bestine cantina, for example, and soon learned of a few situations that sounded very similar to those that the hermit had described for me.

The tasks were varied in their nature. One required that I destroy a ravaging beast called a bladeback boar that was harrassing a community in the north. Another, a test of intelligence, required that I assist a bounty hunter in identifying her mark, who had hidden himself cleverly among a group of people, all of whom were so similar that he could not easily be singled out. Yet another quest took me into the desert east of Mos Eisley, where some pirates were being held in the cellar of a local ranch. I found their captain encamped but a few kilometers away. He pleaded with me to help them, saying that his compatriots had been framed. I went to the ranch the next morning and spoke with the rancher's wife, and realized that there was not a shred of truth in what the treacherous criminals had told me. I assisted the ranchers until the authorities were able to come and apprehend the pirates. Later, I helped a moisture farmer by infiltrating a bandits' cave where his kidnapped family was being held and leading them to escape.

Several weeks passed before the hermit told me that my tasks were complete. He presented me with a large, metallic orb, which glowed orange, seemingly under its own power. He told me that he spoke for the people of Tatooine, and that I had proven myself worth of the honorable title of Hero of Tatooine.

Brief Notice

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The Art of Teräs Käsi

I had valuable new knowledge of the Force. I had insights into the Path it seemed that I was destined to follow. I even had an ancient lightsaber, a reminder of K'te and of what the future might hold for me. Yet I still felt empty. There was still something missing.

The Holocron the Remnant had given me was silent. It did not respond to my thoughts or attempts to activate it. There was no voice in my head when I held it in my hands. I considered briefly that the Remnant might have been deliberately misleading me by giving me an artifact that was faulty, or worse, but it didn't take me long to decide that I did not care either way. I was through with the Holocrons. I would not seek out any more of them.

They had been intriguing guides for me, but I had decided the time had come for me to seize my own destiny. Perhaps there was indeed a great plan in place for me, but if there was, I was going to discover it on my own. It was time to follow the Path of my own accord.

Sales were good. They had been slow at first in Temple City, but soon I had trouble keeping up with demand. I kept my shop open on Tatooine as well, and the money started rolling in.

As most of my production was automated, I had time to devote to other pursuits. Having mastered the art of Fencing, I had realized that while it was an effective technique, it was still far inferior to the art of Teräs Käsi, the martial art I had seen Gerrvin apply so effectively in combat. I decided to learn it myself.

I had grown accustomed to the physical activity of a fighting art, so I knew what to expect. Nevertheless, it took an enormous amount of willpower and effort to learn the basics of Teräs Käsi. It was only through countless hours of repetition that I was able to get a grasp on the fundamental aspects of the art.

It seemed it would be a long road, but I was pleased that it was a road of my own making.

The Lessons of K'te

The lessons I learned from K'te would later prove to be invaluable to me. He knew a great deal about the Living Force, that element of the Force that influences our actions and senses most directly.

I was surprised to learn that he knew very little of the Jedi Knights. By this time I had done some research on my own and learned a good deal about the Jedi and the great power their order used to have.

I learned that K'te came from a remote Twi'lek tribe that had never had much to do with the civilized galaxy, and had cultivated its connection with the Force independently. From what I gathered, they weren't nearly as powerful as the Jedi Knights had once been. They understood the Force, however, and were able to craft lightsabers.

K'te explained to me that he had been sent to Dantooine to face the adversaries of the Remnant of Exar Kun as a rite of passage. If he returned, he would be granted elevated status in his tribe. If he failed, death was the only alternative.

With a heavy heart, I told him of my previous encounter with the Remnant, and of the Twi'lek that Gerrvin had fought and killed. K'te bowed his head at this.

"He was my cousin," he said.

I felt a great weight press upon my stomach. How could I have been part of this?

K'te soon reassured me, however. He told me that in the eyes of his tribe, his cousin died an honorable death, defending himself against the Remant's minion. It was part of his Path.

I asked K'te what he meant by that, and he told me that his tribe believed that every person had a Path to follow in life, which was connected to the Force. It was only with proper focus and attention that one could perceive whether one was following this Path correctly. If the omens and signs it provided were followed, it would eventually lead the person to becoming one with the Force - the ultimate goal of existence.

I told K'te the story of my family's separation, and of the Holocrons I had found and my feeling that there was something I was searching for, but had not yet discovered what it was.

"This is your Path," K'te said. "You feel the significance of the Force."

After many more hours of conversation, it finally came time to decide what to do about the Remnant of Kun.

"He expects me to return with proof of your death," I told K'te. "If I don't return, he will surely hunt me down and murder me."

K'te nodded. "The Remnant is indeed powerful with the Force. However, those that follow the Dark Side are easily influenced. Take this," he said, offering me a metal object.

"What is it?" I said, turning the object over in my hands.

"It is an ancient artifact of my people," K'te said, "A lightsaber from the old generations, hundreds of years ago."

"This is the sort of weapon I saw your cousin fight with," I said.

"Yes," K'te answered. "Only those sensitive to the Force may use them. They are very powerful. This one no longer functions, but it has great significance among my tribe. The Remnant knows this, and knows I would never willingly give it up."

"And yet you have," I said.

K'te nodded. "There is more to the Force than brute strength and feats of arms. There is cunning and mental strength. That is what my cousin failed to realize. I have no chance to destroy the Remnant - no one in my tribe does. However, by convincing him that you have killed me, I can defeat him."

"Defeat him?" I asked, "But he will not be harmed. He will continue as before, murdering and ruining lives."

K'te nodded again. "This is true. But the Remnant seeks the power of the Dark Side. Each such deed brings him more power. To deny him a victory such as this is the same as defeat. Followers of the Dark Side must feed their powers with evil, lest they weaken from starving their anger. You will give him this lightsaber, and I will return to my home. The Remnant will weaken, and another may yet have a chance to defeat him for good."

Thus agreed, we both packed up our campsite and went our separate ways, K'te setting off on foot to the South, while I mounted my speederbike and departed toward the Jedi temple ruins.

The Remnant was eager to see me. I could sense the greed in him immediately. He asked me hurriedly, "Is it done?"

I nodded, and offered him the ancient lightsaber.

The Remnant eyed it suspiciously. "This is an artifact of the old Republic. You got this from the Twi'lek?"

I nodded again, silently.

The Remnant inhaled, then raised his hands. "It is seething with the spirits of the ancient Jedi. Do not give this to me."

I put the lightsaber away in my pack, then looked back up at the Remnant.

"You have done well. Once again, I reward you." He handed me a small leather pouch. I could sense immediately that it contained a Holocron. "Now go. Get out of my sight."

I did as he asked, heading back for Temple City as fast as I could. My heart was light and my spirits raised. I felt that I had taken a significant step along my Path, and that my previous encounter with the Remnant of Exar Kun had been redeemed.

I didn't know if I would ever see K'te again, but I hoped that he found great praise among his tribe.

The Return of the Remnant

The early days of Temple City were tumultuous times. We had done extensive planning and we knew that it would take a certain number of inhabitants to keep the town self-sufficient. If we didn't have a population that was big enough, it would fail. On the other hand, if it grew too quickly, it might exhaust itself and also fail.

Altor, Readro, Spiderwell, Spydey, Brannoncyll and I all spent a considerable amount of time recruiting people to join us. It was a lot to ask of people to move to a completely new town - indeed, in some cases, a whole new planet - but we were able to take advantage of many interplanetary forms of communication. We were able to locate many people of a like mind as ourselves, who were looking to escape the influence of the Empire - not necessarily to oppose it directly, but only to be able to exert their own independence.

That is not to say that we had no citizens loyal to the Empire. We found many who were committed to the Imperial principles and who were looking to reside on a planet that offered the kinds of opportunities that could be found on Dantooine.

We accepted nearly everyone who wished to join us, as long as they agreed to abide by our guidelines and to work with the rest of us for the mutual benefit of our city. Personal politics generally gave way to the betterment of the greater good.

For a while, I was not sure that we would make it. Our growth was slow to get started. Once it got some inertia, however, it took on a life of its own and could not be stopped. It was not long before we had progressed our little economic and political unit far enough that we could afford such improvements as our own shuttleport, parking garage, cloning facilities and a medical center, in addition to such luxuries as a large cantina, numerous gardens and employment terminals. All of this carried a momentum of its own, helping to draw merchants and entrepreneurs to town.

As promised, I held regular elections, but no one ever ran against me. I hoped this was because they were satisfied with the way things were going. I did my best to listen to people's wishes and to shape Temple City to everyone's satisfaction.

In the meantime, I had grown quite proficient at the art of Fencing, but had grown rather bored with the repetition involved in maintaining my skills. I found myself concentrating on other pursuits. I learned to play music, and spent a great deal of time in Coronet on Corellia, where there is a famous cantina, filled wall to wall with all kinds of entertainers. I spent many nights there, losing myself in the music and participating in all manners of performances.

Even that could not hold my interest for long, however. The one constant was my vehicle sales business. I had meanwhile expanded and now had shops on two planets - Tatooine and Dantooine, in Temple City. Business was booming, and I had trouble keeping my inventory stocked. Spiderwell was doing equally well, and contributed greatly to the financial stability of the city, becoming its best recruiter and its singlemost generous investor.

I had little left to learn about Fencing, or music for that matter, but I didn't feel any closer to understanding the mysterious messages I had received from the Holocrons. I had money and, as Mayor of Temple City, a fair amount of power, yet I felt empty inside, as if something was missing, some integral part of my identity that I could not locate.

Not knowing what else to do, one night I jumped on my swoop bike and drove up to the Jedi temple ruins to think. I found myself sitting on an ancient, fallen column and staring at the ground, thinking about nothing and everything at once.

Suddenly, I felt a presence behind me. I hadn't heard anyone approach, but all of a sudden I was certain there was something there.

"Hello," I said, cautiously.

"Good evening," a voice replied. I recognized it immediately. It was the Remnant of Kun, who I had met while I was here with Gerrvin, so many months ago.

I turned to face him. His gaunt face stared back at me, his eyes dark.

"Why are you here?" he asked.

I shrugged. "I am here. What more would you know?"

He continued to stare at me. "Another scourge has appeared. Are you prepared to aid me again?"

I considered. He could only mean another being like the young Twi'lek Gerrvin, Spiderwell and I had encountered. I shuddered inside to think of what had been done to him. Yet here, perhaps, was a chance to redeem my actions. If there was another like that young one, perhaps he could tell me where they came from, who they were, what the strange, glowing swords that they weilded were called. And, most importantly, why the Remnant wanted them dead.

I nodded slowly. "I will help you."

"Yesss," the Remnant hissed, "You will."

He gave me instructions on how to find the "scourge," and sent me on my way, demanding that I return before morning.

It was not hard to find the man. He was next to a small campfire a few kilometers off, and made no efforts to conceal his existence. I drove my swoop quite close to his campsite before shutting it down and disembarking.

The man was already on his feet, his weapon at the ready but not yet ignited. I stopped and surveyed him. He was a Twi'lek, no older than the last I had met. His skin was tinted orange and his lekku were drawn back behind his head. He looked at me with dark, intelligent eyes, and waited.

I raised my hand slowly. "I just want to talk," I said.

"The Remnant sent you," he answered, without moving his weapon.

I nodded. "He told me where to find you. But I am not here to do his dirty work."

The Twi'lek seemed to consider, looking me over. Then, gradually, his weapon dropped to his side in his hand. He seemed to relax, and I followed suit.

He bade me come closer, and we sat down together near his campfire. "What is it that brought you here?" he asked me.

"My name is Maast Lofor. I have questions," I said, "many, many questions."

The Twi'lek nodded. "My name is K'te. I will do my best to answer."

And thus began my first true lesson in the Force.

Temple City is Born

As it was, the last straw was the droid invasion of the city of Bestine. Many of our partners were there, and only a few escaped unscathed. The droideka assault was an intolerable affront of our autonomy. The Empire claimed it was necessary to regain control from the Tusken Raiders, who had become problematic as of late, but many eyewitnesses saw the droidekas gunning down as many innocent citizens as they did Sand People. They were not programmed for discretion on that mission.

We were fed up, to say the least, but our plans were already underway anyhow. Initial reports returned from Dantooine were very promising. There was a lot of open land, just waiting to be developed. I enlisted Brannoncyll Frost, one of our senior partners, to accompany me on an official scouting trip. We scoured a great amount of the areas that Altor and Readro told us were promising, and soon narrowed things down to a few key potential sites. A few weeks later, we assembled all of the senior members and set out with a crew to lay the foundations of our new City Hall.

Construction went very smoothly. We were relatively far from the nearest settlement (the small collection of buildings enclosed by a barricade, carrying no other name than the Dantooine Mining Outpost). The speederbike trek to the building site was long, but it could be endured. We would have a shuttleport when the time was right, but for now we decided it was better to build the more essential structures to completion first, for our own protection.

City Hall was erected a few hundred meters from the shore of a small crystalline lake in northeastern Dantooine. The new GDC headquarters was built just adjacent, and Spiderwell had his own crew building a large house opposite, forming three sides of a city center. Once construction on City Hall was complete, the GDC partners began arriving and setting up their own residences.

There were two important questions to be answered before we got any further. The first was what we would call our settlement; the second was who would lead it.

The first question was one that was heavily debated. In the end, everyone was able to agree on a fitting title for our town: Temple City, in honor of the ancient Jedi temple ruins, located only a few kilometers away. The name indicated no particular allegiance to any one person or group. All manners of Jedi had trained at the temple, centuries ago. All manners of people came to see its ruins - pilgrims, tourists, Imperials, and others. So would our City also forge its identity.

The second question answered itself, in a sense. The question of leadership essentially fell to a decision between Spiderwell and myself. The other partners were ready to do their part to contribute to our city/state and corporation, but they were too involved in their own matters to be able to take on the responsibility of leadership.

Spider and I were both extremely occupied with our own business efforts as well, but neither of us was willing to relinquish supervision of what we had built to another, less trusted party.

In the end, I volunteered to take the job, at least until the City was established. Spiderwell agreed, pledging his full support, financially and otherwise. I declared that I would be an appointed Mayor only until we were settled and established. At that point, there would be democratic elections and if the citizens of Temple City decided it was time for a replacement, I would oblige them willingly.

With the foundations of a great metropolis set firmly in the soil of Dantooine, we began our efforts to recruit settlers to our new town.