Star Wars: A Jedi's tale. Chapter IV

IV
　
He decided to try the bars first. As the night advanced he was getting nowhere. He went in to the third joint of the night. Different from the others, more “upper” class; there was even a weapons sensor that went off as soon as he crossed the threshold. A recorded voice went off near his head. “Welcome to The White Pearl, please deposit your weapons in the bin, they will be well cared for”. Followed by a storage bin that opened up on a wall on his left. He placed his Death Hammer in it and got an electronic token in return. Good, the lightsaber was not scanned.
　
　
As he walked in to the place, he extended his senses, drawing from his emotions, he let himself go in to the myriad of emotions, thoughts and feelings. Almost every table was occupied, and he could sense thoughts of sadness, joy, celebration, concealment, deceit, and betrayal. Curiosly, in such a place, all emotions were somewhat dampened, slanted, and the patrons surely preented composed and calm faces to one another. He opened his eyes, dozens of beings moved about; the greatest concentration of species was around a sabacc table at the bak of the bar. The holographic dealer was explaining the house rules to about four players; and twenty odd onlookers. is gaze stopped there. He senses someone watching him intently from that area, and whoever it was, it was very shocked and surprised at his entrance. He had hit the jackpot.
　
　
　
He walked to the bar, and asked for mint liquor. Alema’s favourite. The drink made him somewhat nostalgic. He picked it up after paying for it and moved between small black tables made of something resembling carved wood. There was a band playing some tune rag time. He looked over to the musicians and spotted a humanoid with four arms going at a wooden piano completely enthralled by his own playing. He smiled and came closer to the sabacc table. As he neared it, the sense of that someone’s surprise and awe, turned in to terror and aggression, He could feel it directed at him. looking straight in to the holographic dealer, he scanned his front arc of vision for the face tht matched the feeling and could not make it out. The hatred directed at him became stronger.
　
　
　
“Yes Oreth, hate can be powerful, but also, love is equally strong” It’s dawn. They cannot see the sun on their westward window. On Coruscant, the sun rises on the east, funny enough. This is when they came together for the first time. She lies in bed next to him, the top half of her body lies leisurely uncovered, the white sheets loosely slip down to her stomach. Her naked skin resembles the peaceful seas in the bluish light of the coming morning. He turns and caresses her. He is drinking mint liquor; but her words are a far more fulfilling and potent draught, and he drinks from her by long desperate gulps. “They are the same heavy coin, the metal from which they are crafted is unbreakable; one face of the coin caresses and kisses with powerful force and energy” She turns to him and strokes his head tresses, then kisses his cheeks, his lips. “the other face bites, barks and mauls with the same relentless energy” She turns from him, gets up and starts to don her Jedi outfit.
　
　
　
Her under tunic slides gracefully, then her outer tunic. He gets up and takes her sash, helps her place it around her waist, seizing the moment to hold her one last time. “But master... Alema...“ He feels a tingling in his chest at using her fist name, “if they are the same energy, how can love conquer hate?” She smiles, “Now its not the time for that lesson, now focus Oreth“ she continues as her face grows darker, “remember today. Today, life is good. Drink the mint liquor, and look at its bluish colour. Look for the bluish colour Oreth, behind the veiled faces, the bluish colour of a pair of eyes.” He does not understand, he feels this is another of Alema’s teachings. Even now, after the moment they shared, she cannot help but to fall in to her role as the master. She steps away from him and walks to the balcony, “Oreth, you will die under the bright jewel if you do not learn to use the visions of the past.”
　
　
　
He raised his glass, the bluish colour of the liquor cast dancing figures in his eyes. The force was acting now, through her teachings through him and through their... love. A sudden commotion began in the bar, behind the sabacc table, at the far end from Oreth. He saw them then, a pair of ice blue eyes, looking at him intently, then those eyes were aware of his realization. Patrons started to move away. other ran. “No blasters!” some one shouted. But the warning came too late. In a desperately fast movement, faster than Oreth had seen on a non sensitive, the man with the ice coloured eyes drew and let off two bolts of red death. He was ready for him. He was unconsciously aware of him the whole time, and his lightsaber ignited in a green buzzing sound with the frenzy of battle at the hiss of the blade.
　
　
　
He stopped the first two bolts. The man began to run backwards and shot wildly at him. His lightsaber danced in wide arcs left and right, keeping the red blaster bolts from panicked patrons and sabacc players. The green blade then spun and moved forward; he ran after the man avoiding his very fast blaster shots. this man was definitely dangerous, fast and deadly. He had to get him away or put him down for good. A blaster bolt aimed at the front entrance activated a pair of security blaster emplacements that came down from the ceiling. This man definitely knew this place and its secrets. Oreth spun wildly, ducked and raised his green blade. He was a blur of brown flowing robes and green energy.
　
　
　
Drawing from the Force, He crushed the gun turrets by closing his hand in a fist. He caught a brief moment where the assailant was isolated from innocent standbys and drew his arm backwards, palm opened; he then thrust his hand forward and the Firce did the rest, it responded with an incredible energy that Oreth was not aware he possesed. He truly was being fuelled by Daneela’s memory, Alema’s love and his own betrayal to the order and what it stood for. The force push sent the man flying back in a blur of black clothes and wild blaster bolts. The guy kept firing his weapon as he flew to the nearest wall and smashed against it.
　
　
　
　
You don’t get to die on me!. He thought as he ran to the still body lying by the entrance weapon storage bins. By now, all patrons were darting to the exit, crowding it, and the storage bins spilled their contents. Oreth stood over the downed man. He was face down, still holding his blaster. An Aratech. He force moved the weapon away from the inert hand, crouched by the body and turned him.
　
　
　
At first he thought he was seeing some force vision. Even though Alema had helped him master and control them, she also repeated constantly that his eyes could betray him, and not to trust them. Well, now he was sure he could not. Tehe face of the unconscious shooter was that of a boy, not more than seventeen years of age, human. The boy opened his eyes a little; Oreth stood there watching unbelieving, at a set of brown eyes. “Wha... what happened...” said the boy. Oreth stood up immediately and surveyed the place around him over and over, choking a cry of rage and frustration. What HAD happened?
　
　
　
Humans and Rodians for the most part, with some of the other domiant races sprinkled here and there, were crowding the entrance, some were arguing about ownership of the blasters and weapons spilled on the floor from the storage bins. The back of the bar was empty. The sabacc table was overturned, its holographic dealer still bidding the next player to either up the ante or fold. The Oreth turned to the bar; the attending barmaid, a human in her middle aged years lay dead over the counter. a blaster bolt burning the flesh on her face. Behind her, a door to a kitchen and storage room stood broken out of its hinges, its locked burned off.
　
　
　
No, not burned off; as Oreth came close to the bar counter, he could clearly see the door had been sliced open. Lightsaber work.
　　

Star Wars: A Jedi's Tale::: Chapter I:::: Returning home.

He stepped in to his apartment. Door closed behind him in the dark. Silence inside. He sighed. The lights were programmed to his genetic trace. They turned a second later.

With the lights on, this dump only feels even more empty, he thought as he left his blaster pistol holstered over the small metal table next to the door. He surveyed the apartment with a quick but insigtful glance. all lookd in order; there was no reason to believe they had followed him here, or knew where he had been living for the past weeks, after he got this assignement.
 Lights dimmed a bit to adjust to his preferences. The pink - orange glow of the setting bright jewel sun bathed the small apartment in stripped shadows made by the window shutters. He took the first steps in to his place in to his living room consisting on two couches and a small table. He removed his cloacked brown robe and walked over to the kitchen,  he opened his ice box and took out a bottle filled with a crystal transparent liquor. His mind was racing, needed to calm down, breathe. Drink. The tall Nautolan poured the liquor in to a small glass and after finishing it up in one long gulp, he poured again and took the glass with him to a big old looking chair next to his window.

He still could not figure out what went wrong. He sipped from his drink and concentrated on his inner mind's eye in to recreating the events of the day.

He is standing on the platform indicated by the council. Ord Mantell; just another dusty landing platform in the midst of a spacer's city. He feels the Bright Jewel bathing his greenish skin. He misses the depths of the oceans of Glee Anselm, and the way his thick head tresses float about when swimming home. He is sensing some emotional disturbance from the woman standing beside him. He turns around and sees her there, with her long jet black flowing hair dancing in the first rays of the coming morning. A beautiful woman, though he can't name her race. He has always thought humans to be fascinating, weak, unimportant and yet vast and dominant as is their prescence in the Galaxy. But no, she is not human, her pale blue skin and violet-purple eyes mark her as near-human. He wonders what childhood must this woman have had to become so rugged and scarred at so young an age. She is not sensitive. If she were sensitive, the order might have spotted her early on her life to bring her in to training. Being non sensitive, she must be one hell of a fighter.

Now she is speaking. "Here they come" she says and points a slender finger upwards. He lifts his gaze to the clear blue sky following her hand. The landing platform is on the center of the city, air lanes are packed with speeders going back and forth on their own business. The dusty atmosphere creates strange and beautiful light effects with the coming rays of the Bright Jewel sun rising. The galaxy is an unfathomable large place, and putting one self in perspective might induce a certain amount of depression, for one can one being do in such a huge place?  Even being a jedi does not help to minimize the... smallness of it all, and that's just the galaxy. He had talked with his master about this sense of perspective. And after long hours of reflecting and meditating, even being part of the Will of the Force feels somewhat, useless... helpless.

The ship lands a few meters from them, the sound of the ship`s landing cycle yanks him out of his reflections. Their clothes flap with the repulsorlift backwash. He raises his arm to cover some of it off his face. "I hope your efforts lead us in to a good outcome, master jedi, I did not requested your help, but I appreciate it", the girl says turining towards him. Her violet eyes on her blue skin are... pools to drown in, like a breath of too much surface air when sudenly being out of the water after days of being in the dark depths. He has been in the dark depths, and surface now seems farther than ever, looking at those eyes.

"Well, yes", he manages to answer, "I am not a jedi... yet, lady, the council assigned me as one of my trials and certainly to put a dent on a rising threat from the Black Sun with this endeavor, that is why we must succeed. The Black Sun are creating events that sends waves of dread and disturbance in the force to my masters. Ans I suspect they did not tell me everything." He shifts uncomfortably, he knows there is something more behind the order's assignement, he can feel something lurking in the shadows, small ripples of disturbance sent through the clear crisp water that is the Force. He can not help himself but to feel as a sacrificial lamb, on the altar of The Will of the Force. He gathers his thoughts and repeats, "We will succeed, I assure you". He feels inadequate, awkward, looking at her makes him so. As he was about to add another word, his words were drowned by the sound of the ship repulsorlifts finishing their cycles. The metal structure of the ship groans for a second or two before going silent. Hisses of white steam come out of the exhaust ports. The freighter, a YT-1150, finally settles down. A small platform descends from the bottom of the freighter; two of its occupants descend. They meet a few feet from the ship. His inner eye forces him to see more of that meeting, enhancing his field of vision. He is not aware at the moment, but through his recollection he realizes thet are being watched. Black, flowing robes disappear behind a window in a nearby tall building.

A black figure, disturbance in the force. His feelings of being sacrificed on the altar of The will of The Force. How could he not see? and yet, he still does not know what event might have happened differently to avoid ther pending doom, awaiting them that very same day.

Sitting by his window, he raised his glass to his lips; his mind's eye became overwhelmed with emotion. Darkness crept in through the shutters, the neons outside could not held the coming night at bay. He glanced at his hands while sipping the liquor. A dark stain covered part of his right hand. Panic strucked him. He stood up almost immediately. He rushed to the cleaning facility and started obsessively to wash his hands over and over again, to completely wash her blood off.

Her blood.

Looking in to the mirror, he remembered her broken body.
Her still face.
In the mirror, his large unblinking brown eyes teared up.

He had never cried before. Today, he had reason; he had been expelled from the jedi order.

He had run, and did not wait to be taken in to the prescence of the council's representative.

He had not given up his lightsaber, he would not. He needed it.

Now, looking in that mirror, he knew; There was no peace, there was only emotion. There was no knowledge, there was only vengeance...

But there is always, The Force.