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We have a lot of comedies, so how about a dark drama? I'm not really good at names, but I'm writing a drama that takes place between Balance Point and Star by Star. The rest will be told in the story.

Also, I suck at making up names. So, if you have any ideas for a name for the main character and the story, let me have them.

Chapter One to appear shortly.

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Aran Reenth awoke to the planet’s orange sun glowing in his eyes, just peaking over the distant mountains. What the planet’s name was, he did not know. It wasn’t important anyway for this hub of general riff-raff and vagabonds such as himself would eventually fade into a distant memory, covered by the other parts of his traumatized memory.

It was still far too early for anyone to be awake, even a Jedi. But he knew sleep would not return, not now. The nightmare had returned. Of all the events, both good and terrible, for his mind to replay over and over, it had to be that one, the planet of his birth destroyed, turned into a wild field of asteroids. His family vaporized into traumatized atoms.

This planet was not one of the recently destroyed planets in this destructive war. It was not Sernpidal or Helska 4 or Ithor or Kalabra. It was not Carida, which that idiot Kyp Durron destroyed or Caamas, destroyed by those conniving Bothans. No, this planet was Alderaan. After all of these years, he could still feel it like he was right there watching it happen.

Damn Tarkin. Damn the Empire. And damn the Jedi for not seeing it coming. Arrogant fools, he thought angrily.

…Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering, Yoda said in his memory.

“No, Yoda. It’s the other way around.” he said, not realizing he was saying it aloud. “Suffering leads to anger. Anger leads hate.” He thought about what he had said, and how close he had been teetering on the Dark Side. But how could an emotion that results from love and friendship be that bad? After all, aren’t love and friendship of the light side?

He sighed. There were times when he wished the Jedi had never taken him from his family on Alderaan, when he wished he had died with them and wouldn’t have to worry about the Force or the Yuuzhan Vong or the anger he felt.

But that option had been taken from him long ago. Now, more planets were being destroyed, more families dying, more Jedi dying. Fading away gradually wasn’t an option either, not when everything around him was being threatened in this way. The Yuuzhan Vong would stop at nothing to destroy everything in this galaxy. And he wasn’t going to set idly by and watch. It was time for him to fight. It was time for him to return to the Jedi order.

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((Cool. Sounds good. :)))

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The room at the inn Aran had stayed in the previous night was at the end of a long, dark hall. As he made his way toward the inn’s cantina, he received glares and stares from those he passed, mostly at his Jedi robes and the lightsaber clipped to his belt. Most of the people were honest refugees from the ongoing war with the Yuuzhan Vong. He sensed only a light apprehension from them. Considering how badly the Jedi have been failing of late, he couldn’t really blame them. From others, however, he felt something more sinister and threatening.

The cantina was what one would usually expect from a cantina, at least in appearance. The room smelt of smoke and various beverages, mostly alcoholic. A band of Bith played a lively tune over the cacophony of loud voices from the cantina’s patrons, mostly human but a few Bothans, Rodians, and other aliens were visible. A burly human man tended the bar while several outdated and rickety droids served the surrounding tables.

But the feeling Aran got from the room was unlike what most would imagine a cantina to be. A deep feeling of hopelessness, sadness, and bewilderment, of anger, rage, and fear filled the room. Well, looks like I fit in nicely, he thought, half joking, half serious. He set down on an old wooden stool at the bar and ordered whatever the cheapest drink was.

After a few minutes, he sensed something sinister being directed at him. So, it came as no surprise when a blaster was pointed at the back of his head. “Get up, Jedi. You’re coming with us,” the owner of the blaster said.

He turned to see a tattooed human man of about forty years. On his jacket was a logo with a human hand grasping a Yuuzhan Vong hand. Peace Brigade.

“And what makes you think I’m a Jedi?”

“Could it be this?” the Peace Brigader said as he took the Jedi’s lightsaber and blaster.

“I hope you have collateral for those.”

“Shut up or I’ll shoot you now.”

“Ooo. I’m so scared.” That gained a small laugh from the crowd that was now fixated on the scene Aran and the Peace Brigader were creating. He pulled his right arm back into the sleeve of his dark green cloak and pulled his other lightsaber, clipped to his belt behind his back and covered by the cloak as well as his dark gray cape, up through his right sleeve and into his hand.

“Show me your hands, Jedi.”

“If you say so.” With that, he activated the lightsaber and in one fluid motion, cut off of the barrel of the Peace Brigader’s blaster. At the same time, the Peace Brigader pulled the trigger. The lightsaber’s light gray blade deflected the bolt back into the blaster, causing it to explode, which in turn knocked the Peace Brigader down. Aran pointed the blade at his neck. Several other blasters, all from other Peace Brigaders, were leveled at the Jedi.

“Filthy Jedi,” the Peace Brigader said.

“It’s stupid to insult someone who holds your life in their hands.”

“You wouldn’t kill me.”

“You assume too much. What makes you think I don’t want to dice you and feed you to a rancor or vaporize your flesh with this blade?

“You wouldn’t do that.”

“Are you willing to call it a bluff?” The Peace Brigader’s silence gave the answer loud and clear. “Now, call them off. And I want my other lightsaber and blaster or I will take them…along with the arms that are holding them.”

“Put down your blasters.” He handed over the lightsaber and blaster.

“Now, get up. You’re coming with me.”

“What do you need me for?”

“Aww, come on. I’m not stupid. I know that you and your friends will either shoot me in the back the second I start to leave or come after me. You’re my shield,” he said with a smile.

The two made their way to Aran’s ship, the Enigma. “Now get lost.” He used the Force to hurl the Peace Brigader into a nearby pool of water, stagnant water at that and laughed. He would get some pleasure out of all of this.

He boarded his ship and started his journey to Coruscant, to his destiny.

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Chapter Three

Note: After the astericks, the story takes place roughly a year before AOTC. I have also given my character a name, probably temporary, though.

Because of the wide swath across the galaxy the Yuuzhan Vong had created in their invasion, along with the several destroyed planets and hyperspace mines, the usual, more direct route to Coruscant was impossible to travel. So, he had to go the long way around, adding several hours and hyperspace jumbs to his already long trip.

As usual with any long period of monotony and isolation, the long trip gave him time to think about the past and the present.


“Nice it is to see a former Padawan become a Jedi Master,” Yoda said.

“It is nice to see you, too, Master Yoda,” Master Darsinia Ma’Shaahd said with an accent we would refer to as Irish. They were in the Jedi Council Room. Darsinia, a human female of about thirty to forty years with green eyes long dark brown hair covered by the hood of her gray shroud, stood directly in the center of the room, surrounded by Yoda and the eleven other seated members of the Jedi Council. She stood facing Yoda and the Coucil’s other senior member, Mace Windu.

“What is it you wished to speak with us about, Master Ma’Shaahd?” Windu asked

“As you know, I am a student of an ancient, nameless Jedi art that allows a greater, albeit temporary, intunement with the Force. This allows one to sense things more clearly and at a greater range. While the great range of sensing is only temporary, it increases one’s abilities, but only to a certain point. For several years, in fact, before I attained the rank of “Jedi Knight,” I have worked to master this art, neglecting to take a Padawan in the process.

“However, I feel I have now reached my limits in terms of Force ability, even with the augmentation caused by the exercise. Although I have been able to sense minor threats and incursions, such as the border dispute on Ansion, I have been unable to locate the source of the resurrected Sith.

“Also, I am currently the only Jedi, other than Master Yoda, to master this art. With these more dangerous times, the chances that I may fall in battle have been greatly increased.”

“Yes, much would be lost if that were the case,” Adi Gallia interrupted.

“For these two reasons, I believe it is now time for me to take a Padawan, preferably one with more raw Force talent than I. I ask that I be assigned a Padawan learner”

The Council considered Ma’Shaahd’s request in physical silence, but were debating through the Force. Finally, they came to a decision. “Take a Padawan, you will,” Yoda said. “To you, we assign Aran Reenth.”

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