A City on the Hill

With our corporation grown to a sizeable population of partners, it was at about this time that Spiderwell and I seriously began to consider taking things to the next level. It had been clear to both of us from the beginning that, although credits would get us far, there were other things that could get us further.

Spider was acquainted with the mayor of Mos Nox, and had been impressed by the influence he had. At that time, "Nox," as most called it, was not the bustling metropolis it is today. It was still a small town, unsure of itself and its direction. Yet the mayor of the town was widely known and respected, and managed to accomplish all manners of things through his station as a politician.

Some of our members had commented quite early on that going this route was the way to ultimate success, and both Spider and I, as the two senior partners, agreed in principle. However, we knew that it was a matter of timing and would require skillful implementation, not to mention lots of preparation. It was now that we began to consider preparing.

We were a solid group, but we didn't yet have the numbers required to really branch off on our own. We were fairly independent as it was, but in truth we survived by making use of many of the facilities of Mos Nox and the nearby capitol of Bestine. We used Nox's shuttleport for transportation and we discussed our business deals over drinks in Bestine's cantina. We were not fully driven by our own power.

Spiderwell and I both envisioned capitalizing on a combination of politics, government and commerce. Right now, we had a corporation - it was time to turn that corporation into its next evolutionary identity:

A city/state.

As things stood, we were fully subject to the Imperial regulations and laws of the Bestine district. There was a system of power in place that prevented anyone in the region from rising above the level that was allowed by the Imperial officials. It was a glass ceiling. As long as you followed their rules, you could live comfortably, but you would never break through.

We knew that even if we found a place with more favorable legislation, we would never truly be free to achieve our potential unless we were in full control of our destiny. In short, we had to make the rules.

There would be a city/state, founded by us and governed by us. We would create its foundations and its identity. We would determine how all manners of business would be done within its borders. It would grant us freedom and independence.

With this in mind, I enlisted our closest comerades, Altor Carnaise and Readro Amec, to begin the search for a suitable location. We needed a place that was wild enough to have unclaimed, even unwanted territory, yet still populous enough to grant contact with the rest of the galaxy. We would need to strike a balance between isolation and civilization.

It wasn't long before they reported their findings to me. I listened to them with great apprehension. Their planet of choice was a ponderous one.

I still had disturbing dreams of the Remnant of Exar Kun, even weeks after the incident with the mysterious young Twi'lek. The violet plains and the crumbling ruins of the Jedi temple haunted and enticed me simultaneously.

No matter what I did, though, it seemed there was nothing I could do.

My destiny seemed inexorably tied to the planet Dantooine.

The Art of the Blade

It was some time before I could bring myself to make use of the Sith Holocron given to me by the Remnant of Kun. It wasn't just the circumstances under which I had acquired it, though those were daunting enough.

The object itself was profoundly disturbing. It emanated a powerful sense of evil, as if it were a thing that was alive and waiting to strike.

In the end, though, my curiosity won me over. I had to know what it would tell me.

What it said was this: "The path to ultimate power lies through strength and control. He who is strong enough to fight with one arm behind his back will become powerful indeed."

I frowned when this message darted through my mind. There was no mention of enlightment this time, only power. The message was different. Would heeding it lead me in a different direction? I considered. So far, following the instructions that the previous Holocrons had given me had not led me in any obvious direction, or awarded me any clear enlightenment. Following this one's instructions couldn't logically be much more dangerous.

But what did it mean - to fight with one arm behind one's back?

It was several days before I understood the answer. I was leaning against one of the columns of the shuttleport in Bestine, when I saw two men undertake a friendly duel against each other, to test (or show off) their skill at fencing. One of them pinned his left arm behind his back while fighting with the other.

Suddenly, I understood. As I watched the blades of the two men flash and whirl at each other with deadly precision and marveled at the speed of their footsteps, I knew that the time had come for me to learn to defend myself. I would learn the art of Fencing, though not to gain power, as the Holocron had suggested. Just watching the two friends duel each other in the dusty streets of Bestine had convinced me that it would be an effective way to defend myself. It seemed more accessible than they mystical Teras Kasi martial art that I had seen Gerrvin use, as well. I found a trainer who was offering lessons in the town of Mos Nox, nearby our home, so I paid a few hundred credits to learn the basics of the Fencing fighting style.

I had meanwhile established a sizeable bank account, thanks in no small part to the large donation the woman I met in Bestine had given me. Though I had become quite adept at creating droids, I found that there wasn't a strong market for it, and it didn't suit my technical inclinations. I still preferred to build speeders. Though they were complicated machines in and of themselves, their complexity was nothing compared to droids. I admired the simplicity of the powerful landspeeders, and decided to stick to what I knew best as my primary source of income, at least for now. Anyway, business had been picking up - I was able to hire a few clerks to do my selling for me, and I set up a permanent merchant's tent right outside Mos Nox. I had mining installations in the ground in several places, collecting the raw materials I needed, to keep my costs down.

As I didn't have to worry much about money anymore, I was able to travel more and concentrate fully on developing my Fencing skills. I found it difficult to find sparring partners, so I concentrated on fencing against the creatures roaming the outskirts of cities, the pests that nobody would miss. I became particularly fond of those large beasts called Pikets that roam the plains of Dantooine - they were large enough to present a challenge, yet not fierce enough to really hurt me.

I also invested in a suit of composite armor, which greatly decreased the pain I had to undergo while working on my skills. Spiderwell helped me often with his medical skills as well. I think he was happy to see me finally learning to defend myself. It's a brutal galaxy, after all - my experience in being separated from my family taught me that, if nothing else.

My thoughts still turned to them every day, though the rage had subsided and turned to a sort of driven determinism. I didn't know how learning Fencing could possibly lead me to my family, but something in my gut told me it was true. The Holocron was a significant object, one that demanded respect. I intended to follow my instincts until the day they led me astray.

So far, that day had not yet come.

The Remnant of Kun

I looked at the man standing in front of me, trying to determine something about his nature. Spiderwell had told me that he was a warrior of great power, but there was nothing about him in particular that exuded any exceptional strength. He was a lean man, muscular but thin, with long, brown hair tied back in a ponytail. In his right hand, he carried a small blade that curved around the outside of his knuckles. Beyond that, he carried no weapons.

Spiderwell noticed my hesitancy. "Don't worry, buddy," he said, "Gerrvin can handle it."

Spiderwell's recent message to me, requesting that I contact him as soon as possible, had sparked a flurry of activity. Spider, always the sort who learns the things not always meant to be known, had heard of a mystical site on the planet Dantooine, where the ancient Jedi once trained. There was a temple there that had fallen into ruins. It was now said that one of the Remnants of Kun resided there and would reward greatly those who did his bidding.

The trouble was that Dantooine was a very dangerous planet, with lots of nasty creatures roaming the wild. It was also likely that, if the Kun follower allowed us to speak with him at all, he would demand that we accomplish some difficult tasks for him. Neither Spiderwell nor I were much use in a fight at this point in our lives - he was an accomplished Doctor and I was merely an Artisan. We knew we had to recruit some help if we were to investigate this rumor.

Spiderwell immediately contacted Gerrvin, an acquaintance of his who had helped us both out a few times in the past. In his earlier days, Gerrvin had been a smuggler and had been able to obtain things that the everyday citizen could not hope to get his hands on. I had purchased a crate of Moun Gold, a variety of spice that provides great enhancement to thought processes. I had expected this to help me be a more effective Image Designer while I was still pursuing that profession. It did, but the side effects were less than pleasant and I later gave up using it. Still, Gerrvin was able to provide me with the stuff when I needed it, as it was a banned substance and technically illegal to possess. If any Imperial officer found it on me, there could be trouble.

I had never known Gerrvin to be a warrior, though, which is why I was surprised when Spiderwell showed up at the starport in Bestine with Gerrvin in tow. What's more, I knew that Gerrvin was at least partially aligned with the Empire, having done a few favors for them in the past. This made me a little uncomfortable, though I knew Gerrvin to be a decent person. I just hoped that he would live up to Spider's expectations.

The trip to Dantooine was long and expensive, and took us first to the planet Corellia, where we stopped over in Tyrena before departing for the remote Mining Outpost on Dantooine. Along the way, I learned that Gerrvin was a master of the Teras Kasi martial art. This explained a lot to me - I had heard it said that a Teras Kasi could bring a full-grown Ronto to its knees with a single blow. Having seen Rontos and understanding their size and girth, I wondered if this could be anything but illustrative hyperbole.

The Mining Outpost was small, consisting of little more than a few buildings and a landing platform, surrounded by a protective barricade. We wasted little time in climbing aboard our speederbikes and heading north.

The location of the rumored temple ruins was a good distance away, and the trip allowed us to take in the sights of the local environment. Dantooine fascinated all of us with its strange, purple grasslands and odd vegetation. We encountered a few hostile creatures along the way, but none of them had the pace nor mettle to keep up with our speedy vehicles. We continued unhindered.

After several kilometers, Gerrvin signaled a halt and reigned in the throttle on his bike. He dismounted and switched the machine off, pointing ahead into the gloomy woods.

Through the trees, I saw an eerie, flickering light. It glowed with a mysterious hue, seemingly all colors at once, yet none at all. I looked at Gerrvin questioningly. My Wookiee friend Spiderwell growled.

Gerrvin nodded. "That's him." He knelt down and opened his pack, removing several pieces of armor, which he quickly donned with expert, precise movements. The armor was beaten and worn, but clearly very strong. With a full suit of armor covering every recognizable feature, Gerrvin suddenly looked like the warrior Spiderwell had indicated him to be.

"Let's go," he said, starting forward.

The Remnant of Kun was a frightening looking man. He stood near a strange campfire as we approached, warming his hands and staring intently into its flames. I saw now that this was responsible for the strange light I had seen.

Gerrvin motioned for us to wait, then approached him cautiously. He stopped and bowed a few feet from the fire pit, and they spoke in hushed tones. I could not make out what it was they said, but when Gerrvin turned back to us, he nodded.

"He will accept our offer to do his bidding," he told us.

"Do his work?" I protested, "We're not here to slave for him."

Gerrvin put up his hand. "Call it work then. In any case, it's the same. We take it or we leave it."

"What do we have to do?" Spiderwell asked.

Gerrvin told us. It seemed that before the Remnant would allow himself to begin to trust us, we had to prove our mettle as competent warriors. There was a beast some kilometers away from the temple ruins that needed to be dispatched.

The conquering of this beast confirmed to me that Gerrvin truly was a Master of the Teras Kasi arts, and that this singular fighting style was indeed powerful. Spiderwell and I had barely dismounted from our speederbikes before the great lizard was already breathing its last gasping breath. We glanced at each other, almost unnerved by the power Gerrvin had demonstrated.

When we returned to the campsite, just outside the old Jedi temple ruins, Gerrvin once again spoke with the strange Remnant of Kun. Suddenly, he motioned us forward.

"You have shown me that you are somewhat capable of survival on this harsh world," the man said to all of us. "Perhaps you may be of some use."

"Tell us your bidding," Gerrvin intoned.

The man nodded grimly. "I do not reside on this forsaken world for my own entertainment, you know. I have a purpose here." He motioned at the distant, broken columns of the Jedi temple ruins. "The great Kun once did his work here. This place held great power for him. I am here to re-learn that which he knew. There is power beyond your imagination, waiting to be unleashed." He looked at us. "Unfortunately, there are those that would interfere with my purpose. I am beset by non-believers, heathens and thugs."

"What would you have us do?" Gerrvin asked.

"To the East, you will find a cloaked being, no taller than yourself. I have seen it roaming the plains not an hour ago. Dispatch this being with all haste. I do not believe that you will last very long against this creature, but you will buy me time at least. Go now."

Gerrvin nodded and turned, leading the two of us away with him. We were off and speeding to the East before I could protest.

I switched on my comlink and hailed Spiderwell. "Do you think this is a good idea? I'm starting to have a bad feeling about this."

"Don't worry," Spider's voice answered me above the rushing wind, "I trust him."

"You do?" I said, incredulous, "That crazy old man?"

"No," Spider answered, "Gerrvin."

Before long, Gerrvin called us to a halt once again. The three of us dismounted and surveyed the horizon ahead. Dantooine's distant sun was just setting, and the outline of a figure could be seen, just up a hill.

"There it is," Gerrvin said, "Let's go."

Wilfully, he advanced, brandishing his knuckler. I followed just behind, with Spiderwell at the rear, his med-packs at the ready.

When we neared the figure, it turned and revealed its face. I saw that it was a young Twi'lek male, with a pale, yellowish skin tone and bright, blue eyes. He couldn't have been more than 16 years old.

Gerrvin hesitated. The Twi'lek looked at him calmly, then said, "The Remnant sent you, did he not?"

Gerrvin nodded.

The Twi'lek sighed, then pulled back his robe and produced a short, cylindrical metal object in his right hand. "Then I see I have no choice," he said. His thumb flicked a button and the object flared to life with a bright yellow glow. A long saber extended from the cylinder and hummed with an electrical crackle. "Do what you must," the Twi'lek said.

Gerrvin wasted no more time. He was on the man like a flash, extending his arms in a strange configuration that seemed like it would be an awkward movement, yet sent the Twi'lek stumbling backward on his heels as if assaulted by a massive force. He did not fall, however, but came rushing back, swinging the strange, glowing sword madly.

It was clear that the Twi'lek was not well trained in the use of this weapon. Gerrvin easily side-stepped his lunge and sent the man sprawling to the ground. He pounced and a flurry of blows was unleashed from his deadly hands.

Only several moments later, the Twi'lek was defeated. He lay broken and bleeding on the violet grass. Spiderwell bent to check his pulse, then looked at me grimly. He was gone.

"It is done," Gerrvin said. "Let us return."

The Remnant was astonished to hear what we had done. He had not believed us capable of it. With great pleasure, he gave Gerrvin a leather bag, and gripped his shoulder tightly, grinning.

Though I had not laid a hand on the Twi'lek myself, I felt a terrible wash of guilt rush through me. The man had seemed resigned to his fate, had even seemed to know it was coming, yet I could not justify the actions we had all been a part of. I sensed something evil about this Remnant, and I could not bring myself to believe that killing the Twi'lek in his name had been the right thing.

Gerrvin was grim, as always, but did not seem displeased. Spiderwell's Wookiee features were difficult to read. I knew I would have to discuss this with him at great length, when we were alone.

Gerrvin opened the leather sack the Remnant had given him and drew out three glowing objects. They were three small, identical red pyramids, each no bigger than a small stone. Gerrvin handed one to each of us, a slight smile cracking his chiseled features.

"What is it?" Spider asked.

"This," Gerrvin said, "Is a Holocron."

I shook my head. "This is no Holocron. I've seen a Holocron - I've held two of them in my hand. Holocrons are blue cubes - this is a red pyramid." I examined the object closely. It was covered in runes similar to those on the blue Holocrons I had come across previously. There was something familiar here, despite the obvious differences...

"These," Gerrvin explained, "are of the Sith."

"The Sith?" I asked.

He nodded. "Very ancient, very rare. And very powerful. Be careful with them."

I held the Sith Holocron up closer to my face, trying to discern more of its intricate design.

I wondered what it would hold in store for me.

Spiderwell's Cousin

"Nice place you've got here," the man said to me, his features bent into a wry smile. He had the look of a man with confidence, who was always prepared to move at the slightest threat, but nevertheless exuded a calm nature that relaxed those around him.

I nodded. "Do I know you?"

He chuckled and said, "No, but I know you."

I cocked my head at him, not understanding.

The man leaned in and grinned at me, then said under his breath, "I'm Spiderwell's cousin." He stood upright again, pleased with himself.

"His cousin?" I said, not believing a word of it. This man was clearly a human being, while my friend Spiderwell was a smallish, alabaster Wookiee. Genetically, it didn't seem possible. The human was obviously up to more than he was choosing to reveal.

"In a manner of speaking," he answered me. "I'm his man on the inside. His eyes and ears. I'm the guy who Spider sends to do the things that Spider doesn't actually do, if you follow me." He winked at me again and extended his hand. "The name's Spydey Ryder. Pleasure to make your acquaintance. Now I'd appreciate it if you'd let me into this little group of yours."

That is how Spydey Ryder came to be part of the Galactic Domination Corporation. Several weeks after my chance encounter with the woman who gave me my second Holocron, Spiderwell and I decided to finally move on our plans to form an association of like-minded individuals who could help each other work to achieve their common goals.

We formed a legal corporation under the laws of the greater Bestine district of Tatooine (which, admittedly, were rather loose - Tatooine is not a planet where legal order reigns supreme, to say the least). It was called the GDC somewhat out of irony, though we did intend to grow our respective businesses until they were formidable economic forces.

At the very start, our group consisted of only the two of us and a somewhat pesky but enthusiastic individual named Dunn Dakari. We soon met others who wanted to join us, namely Readro Amec, Altor Carnaise and Brannoncyll Frost.

Now, with the addition of Spiderwell's "cousin," Spydey Ryder, we had enough members to solidify our little band. Spider and I teamed up and built a new headquarters for the corporation, nicknamed it the GDC HQ and set up shop inside. I volunteered to take on the responsibility of being named leader of our group, though I made few decisions entirely on my own.

Throughout all of this, the formation of our corporation held only a fraction of my real attention. I was not able to keep my mind from drifting to the Holocron that the woman had given me as a gift in Bestine that night, and the message that it had given me when I held it in my hands the next day:

"You have progressed along the path of your personal destiny. In order to find the enlightenment you seek, you must learn to create companions for those in need."

The message had drifted through my mind like a soft breeze.

Create companions for those in need? Whatever could that mean?

A few days of quiet contemplation had led me to the decision that the only way that I would personally be capable of creating any kind of companions for those in need would be to engineer droids - semi-autonomous robots that can assist people with a multitude of tasks. With that in mind, I spent most of my free time during the formation of the GDC teaching myself how to build droids. By the time our HQ was completed, I had progressed to a level of skill that allowed me to construct any type of droid imaginable, in only a short time.

I felt satisfied with this achievement, knowing that I had learned something that could easily support me if my vehicle sales business should ever fail. But I felt no closer to enlightenment.

I would not feel that I had progressed until one fateful day when I received a message from Spiderwell on my personal data terminal...

"Maast - contact me immediately, I've learned something important..."

A Chance Encounter

The Image Design profession, which I now had a solid handle on, had suddenly lost all of its appeal.

The challenge of learning the trade had kept me interested, but now that I had risen to the top of the ranks, I found that I was simply bored with it. There was nothing more to learn, no more challenges to overcome.

What's more, it didn't pay very well. I was able to charge about 10,000 credits for a full alteration, but customers were not easy to find. I was getting sore legs standing around in Anchorhead, hawking my services to passersby. I didn't see how this career was going to take me anywhere.

Because of my disinterest in image designing, I had meanwhile returned to my mechanical endeavors, and had apprenticed under a few masters of that trade so that I was able to learn how to build my own vehicles. It was a proud day when I crafted my very own example of the sturdy, if common and a bit slow, X-34 Landspeeder. Here, I realized, was an opportunity to make some real money. With a few modifications, I knew I could build some vehicles that others would be very interested in buying.

It may sound to some like I am unduly focused on the attainment of wealth, but the fact of the matter is that I was intimately focused on determining the meaning of the strange, blue cube that had sent me on the image designer path and had spoken to me of Enlightenment. In order to do that, I needed money. I needed to make money in order to have the time to be able to follow what I felt in my soul to be the path of my destiny.

So I began to sell vehicles. I started with a few that I was able to build myself, improving them with the help of the public crafting stations outside the cantina in Bestine. I would offer the ownership deeds to anyone who was looking to buy one. After doing some investigation into what the competition was charging, I found a price scheme that seemed to work. My small business was off and running.

One day, while selling a deed to a friendly Trandoshan musician from Talus, I noticed a dejected woman sitting against one of the outer walls of the Bestine starport. After I finished my business with the musician, I approached her.

Despite her depressed state, she was quite willing to talk with me. I learned that she had become disenchanted with everything she knew. She told me that life seemed like a game to her, and that she no longer had any fun playing it.

Of course I was concerned as to what she might mean by this statement, but she assured me that she was not going to do anything rash, but was only going to join a recluse group she had heard about in a secluded area on the planet Dathomir. This group required that its devotees rid themselves of all worldly possessions so that they might fully concentrate on their efforts to find the true nature of their spiritual calling.

The woman's plan rang true with me. I understood this to be a noble endeavor, and I offered to help her in any way that I could. She brightened at that, and told me that she had been waiting for someone to come along with just that kind of offer. She asked if I could spare the credits to purchase a seat on a transport to the distant planet of Dathomir.

I considered. The fare was quite high, but it did seem that the cause was just. I was hesitant that the whole thing might be a scam, but something about the woman seemed to reassure me that she was trustworthy.

I smiled and handed her the necessary credits. She stood up and bowed, thanking me profusely.

"Here," she said, offering me a satchel. "These are my possessions. I'd like you to have them."

I took the satchel and opened it cautiously. It felt quite strange to take ownership of something I knew to be everything a person had in the world.

To my amazement, I saw a familiar blue glow emanating from the bag.

"I thought it might speak to me," the woman said, "but it was silent. Perhaps it will speak to you, who are so kind."

I reached into the satchel and pulled out the source of the blue glimmer - a cube, seemingly identical to the one that had suddenly appeared in my own pack several weeks before.

"I've seen these before," I told her. "Do you know what it is?"

She nodded. "It is called a Holocron. Some say it is a guide to finding a path to the Force."

"The Force?" I asked her. "What is that?"

Thus began a long conversation that lasted long into the night. The woman explained to me what she knew of the Force, a mysterious energy field that surrounds and fills all living things, binding them together. She had once met a hermit out beyond the Dune Sea, who had mentioned a few things about it to her. She did not know much more than that, but had many ideas about personal destiny and how the Force might tie into it, and these were subjects which captivated my interest.

Finally, as dawn approached, she told me it was time for her to depart. As we both rose, I suddenly noticed the odd weight of the satchel she had given me. There was more in the bag. I looked inside, and was astounded to find a stack of high-value monetary units worth 500,000 credits.

I looked up at her, amazed.

The woman shrugged, and only told me she was not permitted to take it with her.

"But why did you ask me for the shuttle fare?" I asked, perplexed.

"The elders I seek only allow those to join who have been aided by the selfless gift of another in order to make the journey. I apologize for keeping this from you, but it was necessary. I would not have otherwise been allowed acceptance."

With a smile and a wave, she boarded the transport bound for Dathomir. As I waved back to her, I wondered yet again at what the future held in store for me, and what strange things this new Holocron might have to say...

Humble Beginnings, Part Three

One does not master any profession without much practice, much less a complicated and intricate profession like that of Image Designer. The details of such skills are only learned through constant repetition and hours of concentration.

I soon discovered that it was much more beneficial to have a practice partner rather than to hone my skills on my own humble appearance. I began looking for people who were interested in working as subjects for my craft.

Those I initially found were helpful, but usually required payment in the form of Imperial credits, something I rarely had many of. I grew weary of this and considered going back to making deliveries of repaired items, though in truth, I loathed the thought.

It was therefore a welcome stroke of luck that I happened to run into a friendly wookiee by the name of Spiderwell, who lived just outside the city of Mos Nox. He was more than happy to help me learn the Image Design trade, as he was dabbling in it himself. Even after he gave it up to pursue his medical studies full time, he still did me the favor of allowing me to practice my skills on him. Wookiees are particularly challenging when it comes to Image Design, as they are covered head to foot with fur and have very subtle features.

I spent a lot of time with Spiderwell while learning the trade, and subsequently we became fast friends. We were full of grand ideas in those days, of how we would form a corporation and become the greatest economic power in the galaxy...

For the time being, though, it was enough to progress in my skills so that I was worthy of the title Master Image Designer.

Part of me expected something significant to take place once my goal had been achieved, but there was nothing except the satisfaction of having risen to the top of the field.

I was confident, however, that I was truly on the path to Enlightenment - whatever that might prove to be.

Humble Beginnings, Part Two

My inital wanderings on this planet were random and ill-conceived. I had never been on my own before, and had no idea how to properly take care of myself. I had to learn everything from the beginning, all on my own.

Putting the meager technical skills passed on to me by my father, I was able to make a small amount of credits by tinkering and repairing devices for paying customers. It took a great while, but eventually I learned many more skills and became an Artisan of some reknown.

Before long I was approached by a politician from northern Tatooine, who told me that if I agreed to move to his city, he would provide me with my own house and monetary assistance. As I had no residence and spent my nights under the stars in the desert, the offer was too generous to resist. I soon found myself the resident of a small village in northeastern Tatooine, and the owner of a secure, if rather generic-looking and small house.

The benefits of this arrangement soon proved themselves to be meager indeed. The town was a city of ghosts, of people that I never saw or spoke to. I was alone among hundreds of houses and buildings. What's more, the mayor of this town, who approached me to reside there, was rude and unfriendly. I found myself spending less and less time at my own house.

One day, while running a few parts from Mos Oasis to Mos Entha, I reached in my pack for my delivery and to my surprise, I found a strange, glowing object. It was a cube, no larger than my fist, and radiating a strange, blue light. I had no idea where it had come from.

When I returned home for the night, I pulled the cube out again and examined it more closely. I now saw that it strange runes inscribed on all sides, and that it pulsated ever so slightly, as if instilled with some strange power just waiting to be unleashed.

But how to unleash that power? And how to use it?

No sooner had the thought crossed my mind than the cube suddenly flared to life. Blue light poured out of it and nearly blinded me with its intensity. In my mind, I heard a voice. It spoke to me softly, but clearly.

"In order to find the enlightenment you seek," it said, "You must learn the ways of the Image Designer."

I considered this. An Image Designer, I knew, was a person who was able to assist another in changing their appearance. On my home planet of Rori, they were often employed by the government in the intelligence service, to alter the appearance of their agents. It was not a profession that I had ever considered for myself.

According to this mysterious artifact, however, it seemed that learning this profession might help me find enlightenment. What could that mean?

In my mind, at that point in my life, there was only one possible answer. Enlightenment meant discovering the fate of my family.

I resolved that I would become a Master Image Designer, if it was the last thing I did.

Humble Beginnings, Part One

As these Chronicles begin the record of my life after it has already begun (indeed, a great deal later), I believe it might be informative to record a brief summation of my existence thus far, so that all of the relevant historical points are included.

I was born in a small community on the planet Rori, to middle-class parents who worked hard to earn what they had. My father was a shipwright and my mother was a lobbyist - an unlikely pairing, but one that functioned better than most of those others that I knew.

My childhood was relatively uneventful, punctuated only by the usual adventures of youth and the common mishaps of adolescence.

My father always intended that I take up his trade, to work as a designer of interplanetary merchant-class craft that traveled the entire galaxy. Though the sleek design and powerful engines that propelled my father's ships were intriguing, I never had much interest in life beyond Rori. Space was a vast, empty place where there was little to do but freeze to death.

All of that was forcibly changed when my father declared that we would take a vacation on Naboo. His performance at work had earned him the right to take a Rori month off and travel where he pleased in one of his own ships. Since birth, he had always dreamed of seeing the great palace of Theed, so there was little I or my mother could do to dissuade him from this idea. As I was not yet of a fully grown age, I had no choice but to go along.

Halfway to Naboo, the hyperdrive on the ship failed, and we found ourselves bouncing down from light speed directly into Imperial restricted space.

Without hesitation or warning, our ship was fired upon. The resulting blast sent me careening across my cabin, where my head collided with the sharp corner of my bedframe and knocked me unconscious.

When I awoke, I found myself face to face with an Imperial medical officer. He explained that I had been transferred to an Imperial transport and was to be offloaded soon. My questions about my parents were avoided and never directly answered.

After a few hours of waiting in a featureless cabin that was little more than four walls, I was informed that the transport had entered orbit around our destination planet. I was to disembark immediately.

I was given a CDEF blaster for my own protection, and shuttled down to the planet. I stepped off the gangplank and watched the ship take off, leaving me alone on a strange planet, with no knowledge as to the fate of my family.

As I later discovered, I had been offloaded onto the planet Tatooine, a desert world that I had never heard of, in the city of Mos Eisley. And such began the next great stage of my life.

It Begins

After so much has transpired in my life, it has become apparent to me that a record of my actions is needed, so that others may learn from my mistakes and benefit from knowing of my achievements.

With this in mind, I begin the chronicles of my life.