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Post by Forca the returning on Jan 4, 2007 20:13:55 GMT -5
A/N: This is the first part of an eight part series, the main part of which will only be four books long. The other four are an in-between companion series that kind of fills in a gap in the timeline. This is also a rewrite of a previous story that I had been working on (Return of the Shadow can be found on page 3 of this board, I believe...). I decided I did not like the way the story was progressing and began the reconstruction process. Elements in the prologue may be recognizable from various places - movies, books, etc. - but I'm afraid you'll just have to wait and read on before you really know what is going on.
On a final note, this story is in fact a crossover of many, many things. The only two I will give you to start with are: Star Wars and Lord of the Rings. At the beginning of the next book I will most likely expand on this.
Yeah, that's pretty much it. Please review, I need to know how I'm doing.
Prologue
"You have unleashed a power far greater than you. You shall live to regret it."
"I warned you not to touch her."
"You are hereby expelled from the Jedi Order."
"I want these creatures out of Gondor. I don't care if you have to kill every one of them, I want them out."
"Go. Go back to New York. I won't let you stay here if it means I might lose you again."
"You killed him. You killed Lar Gand, and now I'm going to kill you!"
"Please! Please, it was an accident. You know that wasn't me..."
"I don't need a sidekick, all right? I've lost two already, and that's two too many for me."
"You all right, kid?"
"Take it easy! It's just a training exercise."
"Everybody down!"
"I can't believe it. I trusted you!"
"I'm sorry, Rachel. But I can't do this on my own. I need help."
"You'd better be thinking of where your allegiances lie."
"The Great Council finds you both guilty of high treason against his majesty, the King of Zolan, and his people."
"I want my son back, Kenobi! And I don't care who I go through to get him!"
"You wanna sit this one out?"
"Sorry is just not gonna cut it this time, Bruce..."
"Don't leave me. I don't want to die alone..."
"Please, you have to do something!"
"...Stop me. You have to stop me. I can't stop myself! Just... just kill me. Right now. Please. Jean... Kill me..."
"That's it. It's over."
Odd. It's been so long I'd nearly forgotten. But... No, that's not right. Nothing is right anymore.
Well, the war is over, at any rate. How long has it been? Five years? Ten? Twenty? I can't remember...
But I do remember everything that happened, every minute little detail. The smell of smoke on Bruce's clothes when he got into a fight with Scott. The smell of blood when he got into a fight with Marie (She broke his jaw that day). The tears on Vic's face when Rachel died (the second time). The color of the sky the day of my wedding. The song we sang at my sister's funeral. The way Kara looked at me when I got between her and Jim. The warm glow of a fire that night we spent in the cave. The dullness that seemed to linger in Tim's eyes after the sonic explosion took out Command Central. The feel of a kiss. The sound of fluttering wings and galloping hooves. A city by night. A secret meeting in a moonlit forest clearing. The thrill of a battle. The agony of defeat. The bitterness of death. The height of hope. The depths of despair.
And it all started when I was fifteen. Young, ambitious... Normal. I wasn't anyone special. And then...
...And then my life got turned upside-down.
My name is Forca. I was the Commander of the Alliance forces in the War of the Dimensions. And this is my story.
Name Note: Lustë and Forca are the same person.
Chapter 1: Lustë
The sun rose bright and beautiful over Ephel Duath and touched the lands below with its shining rays, setting the Anduin ablaze in brilliant red and gold flame. A single lone figure sat at the foot of Emyn Arnen and watched as Arien once again began her long journey across the sky to the West, bearing with her Anar the Fire-Golden of Laurelin, the last fruit of the great Tree of Valinor.
Lustë leaned forward, pushing herself away from the rocky outcropping, and watched listlessly as the day began. Her horse, Roccomorë, grazed farther up the hill, within earshot of his mistress should she call for him. But she did not just yet. Instead she sat, chin in hand, watching the great citadel of Minas Tirith below begin to bustle with morning activity. Having no one better to talk to, she addressed the creature behind her.
"Another day, Roc," she said. The great beast continued with his meal, taking no heed of her words. "Shall we see if the night has changed his majesty's mind? Or do we forget about Elessar and continue on our way?" An indifferent snort was all the response she received. Her gaze traveled up the great tower to its summit, sparkling in the morning light. "After all," she continued thoughtfully, "he has refused to listen to my warnings for a full week now. It is time I got back to my own world. Or, rather, the other world. 'Tisn't quite mine. Either way, they are all going to be worrying about me. Besides, if Gondor does fall, it will be his own fault for not listening to me. Right?"
Still, Roccomorë would give no sign that he heard a single word and continued grazing. Lustë continued to gaze at the tower as if she could not take her eyes off of it. "Rowena told me that I had to at least try, and I did try," she whispered to herself.
"But not hard enough." The voice behind her broke her trance. She turned to see a woman standing with Roccomorë, stroking him gently and also gazing at the tower. "You must speak with Elessar one last time, Sandra. The darkness must be stopped."
"Rowena!" Lustë rose to her feet and approached the woman, looking for all the world like she had failed some great, important task. "I have tried to warn King Elessar, but he will not listen."
"You have spoken to Galadriel of Lorién? And Éomer of Rohan?"
"Yes. Both said I would have any help they could provide."
"Good. Still, Gondor is closest to danger, and therefore must be prepared. You must convince Elessar of this."
"But I have done everything within my power, and still he does not listen."
"Then you must try something outside your power. For two years I have been training you, Sandra, and still you cannot think outside the box?" Rowena paused a moment and produced from her pocket a small sapphire set in a gold ring. "I also have spoken with Galadriel, and she bade me give you this."
Lustë took the ring and examined it curiously. "What is it for?" she asked.
"It is for many things. But mainly, it is for you to traverse the Dimensions at will. This is how you shall build your army."
"What does this have to do with convincing Elessar that I'm telling the truth?"
Rowena turned to Roccomorë and gave him a final pat on the neck. "You're a smart girl, Sandra," she said. "You'll think of something.” With that she disappeared.
“You know what, Roc? Sometimes I think I might actually be losing it…” Roccomorë still gave no acknowledgement of his mistress. “Well, I suppose I might as well give it one last try. After all, the worst he can do is say no again.” She began the long descent toward the thriving citadel below. Roccomorë, reluctant to let her out of his sight, followed at a distance behind her. Both could sense the impending doom that hung in the air over their heads, and the feeling spurred them on faster.
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Post by Forca the returning on Jan 5, 2007 22:35:50 GMT -5
Name Note: Roccomorë is Quenya. It means "Black Horse".
Chapter 2: Blackash
“Please, just listen to me!” Lustë pleaded over and over, but the man before her would not budge. “What I am telling you is true. Evil forces are stirring once again behind the Ephel Duath. They will come down on you and crush you if you do not prepare.”
“Nothing has been seen beyond our eastern borders for years. And you come to us and claim that darkness once again dwells there?”
“But…”
“I suppose next you will tell me that you can move objects with your mind?”
“Well, actually, I can…”
Elessar held up a hand to stop her. “Not another word,” he said calmly. “You are nothing more than another lunatic. Until you have some proof that anything you say is true, you will be considered as such. Now, for the last time, please leave.”
An idea began to form in her mind, so she stood her ground. “You say you will believe me if I have some proof that anything I say is true?” she asked. He nodded. “Then hear this. I can move objects with my mind. I have been trained to use the force between and within all objects. And I can prove it.” She glanced around the large hall for something small and within her range of power. Nothing seemed to present itself. The hall was mostly empty, except for the grand statues lining the walls. Those would be much too big, but something else caught her eye. She closed her eyes and forced herself to concentrate on the object.
At first nothing happened. Still Elessar waited, for the girl’s claims had seemed sincere if also absurd. His patience finally wearing thin, he was preparing to walk away when his sword, Anduril, sheathed at his side, began to move on its own. Slowly, erratically, as if it were not sure which way to go, it unsheathed and floated gracefully before him. He reached out and grasped the hilt, feeling for a fleeting moment the power that pulsed through it before Lustë released her hold on it and opened her eyes.
He stood for a moment in perplexity. “I see I was mistaken,” he said at last, the words coming slowly. “Preparations will be made to defend our city against attacks from the East. Just tell me exactly what we need be on guard against.”
The sound of beating hooves tearing up the ground broke the early morning silence as Roccomorë bore his mistress north into Ithilien. The trees on all sides swayed gracefully in a light breeze, and the golden rays of the sun cast a dreamlike glow on the entire world. “Looks like it’s going to be a beautiful day!” Lustë shouted over the wind.
As they approached a clearing, Roccomorë slowed to a halt. Sitting beneath a tree was a young man in his early twenties, tall and well built with a shock of sandy-blonde hair. He observed her calmly with crystal-blue eyes that told a world of stories, most of which were probably exaggerated to begin with. He was dressed completely in black.
“Hello,” he said, his voice light and indifferent. “You must be Forca. Xanatos said you might be coming this way.”
“And who might you be?” she asked, suspicion rising immediately to the forefront of her mind.
“My name used to be Alex. But I have since cut off all memory to my past life. You can call me Blackash.” A slight grin of genuine amusement and pleasure crept across his face. He seemed to her like a child quite pleased with himself at coming up with such an ingenious idea.
“And where would you have come up with such a name?”
“I do believe you shall see in a moment. For, you see, I was sent to stop you.”
“By whom?”
“Why, by Xanatos of course. Didn’t I tell you that already?” He seemed confused for a moment, various thoughts and such bouncing about in his head as his gaze wandered away from her and into the forest beyond. At last he shook himself from his daze and continued with his previous train of thought. “See, he’s getting an army together. There’s a whole bunch of us, or there soon will be at any rate. I must be special, because I was the first one to get here. The others will be arriving soon.”
“You’re rather long-winded for a villain. Are you sure you aren’t just a misplaced hero?”
“Oh, I’m sure of it. My brother is a hero, see, so I think I would know. That is why I’m a villain in the first place.”
“And just what did your brother ever do to you to make you want to forget who you are and become a villain?”
“He abandoned me when I was little, all right? Now will you kindly get off the horse so that I can get this over with? I have other villain-type things to do.”
Obviously very impatient, she thought to herself as she slowly dismounted. “Just how, exactly, are you going to stop me?” she asked softly.
“Oh, I’ll probably do it the same way I do everything.” A pause, as if he had forgotten where he was going with that.
“Which would be?”
He raised his arms, palms out and facing her as if he were just going to push her away. His voice dropped to a significantly grimmer tone. “I’m going to incinerate you,” he said.
“Oh, joy.” Acting purely on instinct, Lustë leapt backwards onto a dangling tree branch, just as a bolt of sizzling energy shot beneath her, causing the air to crackle all around it. The bolt passed harmlessly through the branches, scorching a few leaves in its path, but not catching anything on fire. Frustrated, he aimed higher and shot again, his eyes taking on a golden glow as the energy flowed through his outstretched arms.
But again she dodged, jumping to the ground like a great cat and throwing herself into a roll that brought her right beside him. He gave her an irritated glare and turned to try once more. She moved to dodge, this time jumping over him in a full forward flip and landing squarely on her feet behind him. He turned around to face her with a slight whimper of disappointment. He had obviously thought this would be much easier.
One eyebrow raised disapprovingly, she looked him over once. “You’re tiring.”
“That’s the way my powers work,” he replied, a slight whine in his voice both from the frustration and the fatigue of the battle. “I have to concentrate to get it to work right. And thanks to you, it’s going to take a long time for me to charge it up again.”
“Then I suppose you’ll be letting me go on my way.”
“Do I have a choice?” He slumped down against his tree in humiliation and defeat, keeping his eyes trained on the ground beside him.
His utter sense of loss moved her to pity. “Goodbye, Blackash,” she said softly, once again mounting Roccomorë. “I hope you work things out with your brother.” With that she rode on, glancing back once at the miserable figure behind her. Never again would things be as clear as black and white for her.
Rowena’s voice played itself in her head. “You have learned two lessons today, Sandra,” it said. “One: That the Dimension you are in does not limit the power you possess. Two: You have to care about the people in this world if you are to save it.”
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Post by Tiana, eh? on Jan 6, 2007 4:17:58 GMT -5
You don't need to add the author note every time, you know. And I would particularly prefer if you edited your first author note to be less condensending. It's fine to be that way on fanfiction.net, but you know you're on MEI among friends and people who rarely read stuff posted anyway... Things to fix, speaking as an old beta reader. 1) Your beginning. When you wanted an emphasized word, don't underline, rather, unitalicize it. 2) There's one place in that beginning quote jumble where you added an extra paragraph mark. Go back and edit it out, please? Not necessary, but it would be nice. 3) ArghSuemelt.  Simply, you've improved in your writing standards a lot. Incredibly so since the last time I tried beta reading. In fact, this was an amazing piece of work. I invite you to come post it on Jedi.net, we're in grave need of good writing there. I grin a bit about this, on how much we've changed from those original little plot devices, and yet we've both retained bits and pieces. Mmm. I need to start posting stuff on MEI again. Long time since I've bothered. Should do it... yeah. >< Will you read if I read? |
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Post by Forca the returning on Jan 11, 2007 15:14:27 GMT -5
Course I will! And thanks for the tips and reminders... Next chapter up! This one just went out to ff.net, so... yeah...
Chapter 3: White Hot Room
The sun was at the highest point in the sky by the time they reached the most northern part of the forest, just on the borders of Dagorlad. There Lustë dismounted and removed Roccomorë’s saddle and bridle, turning him loose to roam where he would. As the beautiful creature disappeared back down the path, she brought out the sapphire ring.
“Well,” she said to herself as she slipped it on, “I hope this works.” At first, nothing happened. She stood absolutely motionless at the edge of the forest and waited. Slowly, her thoughts drifted back to her home in the Second Dimension. I wonder if they miss me?
A soft white light issued from the navy-blue stone and engulfed her, rapidly swallowing the landscape around her. The light was not blinding, merely sweeping and pure, reaching as far as she could see and eliminating all color.
At length, she began to walk. There was no sound in the endless whiteness, not even the sound of her own footfalls. There was no indication of where she was, or where she had been, or where she was going. Indeed, there was no indication that she was going anywhere at all.
After what seemed like hours, but was in truth only a few minutes, she thought she heard something and stopped to listen. It began as a tiny whisper, barely audible, and slowly grew until it rang clearly in the great white space. “Well done, Sandra,” it said.
She turned around to find Rowena standing before her once more. A million questions rose at once, but this place seemed to be using her mind for its amusement. As a result, the thing furthest back in her mind came to the front and presented itself.
“Why do you call me that?” she asked. “You’re the only one that still calls me that.”
The reply was quick in coming. “As will many more, in time. It is the name you were given by those who raised you.”
“You mean my parents?”
“You might call them such. But they are not your birth parents.”
Sandra fell silent for a moment, each one of her numerous thoughts fighting for precedence. As was the nature of the place, she soon forgot that which had been said as her mind jumped to the next question.
“What is this place?”
“Some call it the White Hot Room, for lack of a better name. It is the space between Dimensions, which very few people have ever seen. The place where you are standing is, more specifically, the space between the Second and Third Dimensions.”
“How do I get out? I did a good deal of walking, but there seems to be no end to this place.”
“Oh, you can’t walk out. With a fair amount of mind control, you might be able to walk around in here. That is, if you could keep yourself focused. But that’s the main problem with the place. Too many people walk in, expecting to be able to walk right out again, and end up getting lost, trapped between worlds, with nowhere to go. No, in order to get out, you’ll have to use the ring again. And be sure to concentrate carefully on where you want to be. Don’t let your mind wander to where you’ve been, or, worse, where you are. Stay focused on where you’re going.”
“And where would that be, Rowena? I have done everything in my power to save Gondor from the evil that grows on their borders. It’s all up to Elessar now.”
“You are going back to Coruscant to finish your training. But be mindful. It was hard enough to convince the Jedi to take you on as a student. Now more than ever, your Jedi skills are needed. Xanatos has nearly perfected his machine. Soon he will be able to access the distant Fourth Dimension. And when that happens, strong allies as well as powerful enemies will be revealed. Good and evil will no long be as clear as black and white.”
Her previous battle came to mind. “It already isn’t,” she said slowly. “I met a man on the road. He said his name was Blackash, and that he had been sent by Xanatos to stop me. But something didn’t seem right about him, like he had convinced himself of something that he really didn’t believe.” She paused a moment, waiting for Rowena to say something. “Who is he?”
At first, Rowena made no reply. “Poor Alex,” she said at last. “My brother, Richard, could probably tell you more about him than I could. But, from what I remember, his parents died when he was still quite young. He ended up in an orphanage in Omaha, with his older brother. But when his brother was adopted shortly after, he thought he’d been abandoned by everyone he loved. From that point forward, he vowed to get revenge on his brother for leaving him, eventually becoming a villain in Xanatos’ growing army.”
Sandra stared in silence at what would have been a floor. “It’s a sad tale, true,” Rowena went on. “But regardless of his innocent appearance, Blackash may still prove one of your deadliest enemies. It may be possible to reconcile the brothers. Or it may be their destiny in this tale to take separate sides. If that is the case, then nothing you can do will change it. Even if you could convince Blackash to revert to good, such an action might result in his brother taking a turn for the worse.”
“But how will I know?”
“When you are ready, I will take you to see my brother, Richard. But, as of yet, you are still early in your training. It is time for you to return to the Second Dimension. Turn your thoughts to the Temple, and do not let them stray!”
“I sent you to do a very simple task.” Xanatos ceased his pacing to examine the figure before him. His voice was low and chillingly smooth, like ice that freezes everything it comes in contact with. Blackash flinched slightly at the sound of it. “’Kill the girl,’ I told you,” Xanatos went on. “It was so simple, it was barely worth thinking about more than once. And yet you seem incapable of performing even the most simple of tasks assigned to you.”
There was no reply from the ill-fated underling, either in the form of challenge or confession, excuse or explanation. Xanatos made rapid note of this fact and continued. “Did you at least follow her to see where she went?”
“Yes, sir,” came the submissive reply. “She rode to the northern part of the forest and turned her horse loose. Then she just stood there for several minutes. There was a blinding flash of light, and she was gone. Not a trace left of her, sir.”
The dark lord turned away and gazed out the single narrow window that graced the evil black walls, pondering the news he had just received. “She has clearly left this Dimension,” he muttered, no longer paying any attention whatsoever to his degraded minion. “No doubt she is on her way back to Coruscant. That leaves me time to complete my machine.” He turned back to Blackash and once again addressed him. “How long do you need?”
“Twelve to sixteen hours to recharge, sir.”
“You have two weeks. I want you to work on your power, your concentration, and, most of all, your aim. See that you do not fail me again. I have other matters to attend to.”
The dank, musty air of the lower dungeon was filled with the pitiful moans that emanated from the numerous occupied cells. The eerie sound echoed off the stone walls, reverberating down the corridors and driving each mind insane with dread.
A red-headed girl in her mid teens cowered in the back corner of her cell, trying to block the out the voices. Her tattered garments were caked with blood and dirt, and her dust-smeared face was streaked with tears. Clenched in her hand were two photographs, old and worn almost beyond recognition, one of which she caressed tenderly. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” she squeaked, her eyes tearing up again. “I’m lost, and I don’t know what to do.” She gently kissed the figure in the photo. “I couldn’t find you.”
“Of course you couldn’t, my dear.” She glanced up to see Xanatos standing on the other side of the bars, an expression of mock sympathy on his face. “That’s because he’s dead.”
She recoiled farther into the corner. “I don’t believe you!” she spat, her voice coming out as an angry, desperate hiss. “If he’s dead, then why am I still here?”
“I’m sure I don’t know. But I do know that you came back in time to find your parents, and ended up in an alternate reality where your father died at the hands of the woman he so desperately loved. The redhead in that photograph of yours, I believe.”
“No…” The fire in her emerald green eyes went out almost instantly as she gazed at the image of a man and woman at their wedding reception. The woman was beautiful, tall and graceful, with long, flowing red hair and fiery green eyes. The burn marks on the picture hid the majority of his face, but it was obvious that he was a fine young man. They looked so happy together.
Slowly, she brought herself back to the present. “What are you going to do with me?” she squeaked.
Xanatos gave her a chilling smile. “Well, you’re too dangerous to have around. I have set events in motion that you could theoretically disrupt. I am afraid I’m just going to have to get rid of you.” Her eyes widened in terror, which made him smile all the more. “I’m going to kill you, and then I’m going to let you rot somewhere, with no one to bring you back from the darkness this time.”
The mountains of Ered Lithui rang with frantic screams as the sun disappeared over the western horizon. The forlorn cries were soon strangled into nothingness, and the world once again returned to silence. But, to Blackash, the silence of death seemed to be worse than the shriek of pain.
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Post by Forca the returning on Feb 14, 2007 19:15:26 GMT -5
Chapter 4: Returning Home
The soft sound of water and the gentle rustle of leaves filled the Room of a Thousand Fountains with a quiet tranquility that remained unmatched anywhere else in the Jedi Temple. Garen Muln sat at the side of one of the many winding paths, drinking in the beauty around him, his mind wandering so far away it might be near impossible to bring it back to his surroundings. But something did bring it crashing back. A sound, a splash, not much louder than the sound of the waterfall that cascaded into the nearby pool. He stood and made his way over to the water’s edge, trying to see through the rippling surface.
What he saw caused him to jump back with surprise. “Forca,” he breathed. A slender figure broke the surface and dragged itself onto the bank beside him. “You’re back.”
Forca coughed twice, sniffled, wiped the water from her eyes, and proceeded to wring her hair out. “What, did you think I’d be gone forever?” She flipped her long hair behind her back and regarded him with her dark eyes.
“No, I just…” The sapphire ring on her finger caught his attention as he sat down next to her. “What’s that? I don’t remember that being there.”
“Oh, that…” She shrugged and fingered the stone. “I… I got it in… Well, there was this…” The words just wouldn’t come. “You’re not going to believe this.”
His smile was warm and encouraging. “Try me.”
She took a moment to collect her thoughts before continuing. “I found another Dimension.”
“You found that ‘Third Dimension’ Rowena’s been telling you about?”
“I think so. And I think that’s where Xanatos has located his base of operations, but I can’t be sure.”
“What do ya need me to do, Captain?”
With a short laugh, she pulled his hand down from its mock-salute position. “I haven’t quite made it that far up the ranks, yet, remember?”
“Don’t worry, you will eventually.”
She gave a shrug and let her gaze wander out over the still waters of the lake. There was silence between them for a moment before she spoke again. “Garen, what is evil? I mean, what defines a person as evil?”
The question caught him completely off-guard. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, what if a person is good, but you don’t like them, so you decide to be evil? Does that purpose make you evil? Or is there some line that has to be crossed first?”
He thought for a moment before giving his answer. “I don’t think you can decide to be evil,” he said at last. “You can choose to perform evil deeds, thereby becoming evil. But you can’t just wake up one day and say to yourself, ‘I think I’m going to be evil today.’ It just doesn’t work that way.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“Why? Have you been thinking of becoming evil because you don’t like me?”
He received a firm punch in the shoulder as a response. “Of course not.”
“Then why the sudden interest?”
Another shrug. “I met this guy in the Third Dimension. He seemed really… I don’t know. Confused, I guess. He said he was evil because his brother abandoned him, and he wanted revenge. I kinda felt bad for him.”
“Did you talk to Rowena about it?”
“Yeah. She gave me this whole deal about the complexity of the Fourth Dimension, and something about destined conflict or something.” She paused as she remembered the rest of her White Hot Room conversation. “She also happened to mention that I was adopted.”
Garen pursed his lips in thought. The look in his eyes could not be masked before she saw it. “Adopted, huh?” he replied, a little too quickly. “Imagine that.”
Realization dawned on her instantly. “You knew, didn’t you? You knew this whole time?” He didn’t have to answer. She could see it in his face. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t think it mattered. Besides, it’s not like I knew you’d want to know.”
“You know who my real parents are, too, don’t you?” Again, he gave no answer. His gaze dropped to the ground beside him as he searched for the best way to go about such a delicate situation. “Tell me, Garen, please. I have to know.”
“No you don’t. It’s not important.”
“Yes, it is! How can you say that?” Her voice rose with her frustration.
“Because it’s true!” His voice nearly matched hers in volume. “Jedi are not supposed to have any attachment, remember? Most of us don’t know our real parents. Why should it be any different for you?”
“You know what I think? I think that’s the lamest excuse I ever heard!”
He bit back another retort as he heard the sound of footsteps on the path behind them. Standing quickly, he turned to see his friend, Obi-Wan Kenobi, approaching. Forca also stood, bowing politely to the older man, but clearly showing her frustration on her face.
“I see you have finally returned,” Obi-Wan said softly. “I hope your journey was productive?”
“Fairly. I’m sorry for being so short, but I’m afraid I’m not in much of a mood to talk about it at the moment.”
“Understood.” He paused a moment and shifted uncomfortably. “The council would like to speak with you, Forca. I’m afraid it’s rather urgent.”
The sun was beginning to set behind the Coruscant skyline as Forca stood before the Jedi Council. She tried hard not to show her discomfort, as she had always been rather nervous about being called to the Council Chamber. Standing at the center of the room and waiting for someone to speak while they all stared was at the top of her list of most nerve-racking experiences ever.
After what seemed like forever, Mace Windu spoke. “Forca, you came to the Temple two years ago and were admitted by the special request of Rowena. You were much older than any of the other students when they started, and therefore you understand that you had to adhere much closer to our rules in order to prove yourself.” She nodded slowly. “We gave you a fair chance. Unfortunately, circumstances arose that interfered with your training. On top of that, you have been spending a lot of time with Garen Muln. Too much time, we feel.”
“A difficult decision, this was,” Yoda intoned.
“You have been an interruption in his training, and he in yours. I’m afraid we have no other choice.” She knew immediately what was coming, and her expression fell. “I’m sorry, Forca. You are hereby expelled from the Jedi Order.”
Frantically, she glanced around at the many faces. All were sympathetic, but all were resolute. She felt tears beginning to form at the corners of her eyes. “So that’s it? You’re just going to ship me off to the Agricultural Corps or something?”
“No, we’re not. You will be provided with an apartment here on Coruscant. The complications regarding your Jedi status will no longer prevent you from scaling the ranks within the Imperial Alliance, so your future there is still intact. Your shuttle leaves in two hours. May the Force be with you.”
That was her cue to leave. She bowed and quickly left the room. As she waited for the turbolift at the end of the hall, she heard a voice behind her. “You know,” Obi-Wan commented as he came to a stop, “Luke Skywalker is not officially a part of the Order. You could finish your training with him.”
“Thanks for the advice, but I’m not looking for help.” Her reply was a bit colder than she had intended.
He didn’t seem to notice. “I have some business to finish on Zolan. I thought maybe you’d like to come.”
“Still clinging to the whole ‘Master/Padawan’ thing?”
A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Maybe. Or maybe I was just looking for an excuse to hear a more detailed description of your trip to Endor.”
“Well, I’m afraid I’ll have to pass. A vacation on Zolan sounds fun and all that, but I’m just not up to dealing with Yim today. Besides, I’ve got to get over to the Alliance. I think I might have found Xanatos’ base of operations, and I need someone up top to clear an investigation.”
“Someone like Admiral Solo?”
“Don’t even joke. He and I are still not speaking at the moment.” The light above the door lit up, indicating that the turbolift had arrived at their level. “I suppose I’ll see you when you get back from Zolan, then?”
He nodded. “I’ll come find you as soon as I get back, I promise.”
She smiled slightly. “Thanks for everything,” she said before the door could hiss shut. “I miss you already.”
An hour and a half later, she had just finished packing when Garen walked into her room. His rather sudden entrance was met with a harsh glare. “Don’t you know how to knock?”
“Listen,” he began. “I’m sorry about you getting expelled. I feel like this is all my fault.”
“Well, sorry isn’t going to get me readmitted.” Her voice softened when she heard his mournful tone. “At this point, I don’t think anything would.” She returned to her packing without another word.
“And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about your parents.”
“That’s okay. I don’t think I care anymore. They’re probably dead now anyway, right?”
“Actually… no, they’re not.” Her gaze shot up to meet his in surprise. “And since I got you expelled, I feel like I owe you the truth.”
“Scratch the apartment. I’m going straight to Zolan.”
Ortani, the young starcruiser pilot, stuttered several times before getting an audible sentence out. “Wait, what? What’s going on?”
Forca didn’t answer for several minutes as she stashed her luggage in the small holding compartment. Taking a seat next to him at the controls, she fixed him with an even stare. “Your father has some explaining to do,” she said simply.
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Post by Darth Sparkly on Feb 15, 2007 22:47:04 GMT -5
This is getting really interesting; I like the idea of being able to pass between the different dimensions. Blackash seems like a really interesting character, I hope we get to see more of him later in the story! |
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Post by Forca the returning on Feb 26, 2007 19:38:57 GMT -5
Yay! A new reader! I'm glad you find it so interesting! Hooray for Blackash! We will see a whole lot more of him throughout the course of the series, don't worry.
Here's another chapter. Sorry about taking so long to post it.
Chapter 5: The Keeper
Blackash stood still and silent next to the mound of fresh earth, staring at it as if that would bring the unfortunate girl back to life. This hadn’t been what he’d signed up for. He’d only wanted revenge on his brother, not death for some innocent girl.
The photographs were left in her pocket. After he’d gotten a good look at them, of course. Xanatos would have left her to rot out in the open, but Blackash had ignored his orders to leave the body alone. He’d buried her, as he’d felt was proper.
“I’m sorry, Rachel,” he whispered to the grave before him. “I didn’t mean to drag you into this. I thought you’d be safe, but I was wrong. I promise, if I ever get the chance again, you will be spared any further pain my brother may bring to you. I may be angry with him, but I can’t let that grudge carry over to his daughter. I hope you can forgive me.”
In his mind’s eye, he could see the photos she’d clung to so desperately. They’d been burned nearly beyond recognition, but he could tell that they were both of the same man, with two different women, at two different weddings. He wasn’t sure if they had been taken at different times, or if it was all a result of the strange timeslip that had seemingly affected the entire universe. It didn’t matter to him. All that mattered was making that man suffer.
Footsteps echoed down the wide halls of the Zolan palace. Oddly, there seemed to be no one there, except for the two lone figures that made their way down the many empty corridors. “Dad?” Ortani called into the large space around them. “Hey, Dad! Anybody here?”
“Give it up, Or. There’s nobody here.” Forca slowed her pace and glanced over her shoulder, wondering if they should just go back to the ship and leave.
“Come on, it’s the ancestral home of the Zolan Royal Family. There’s got to be someone around.”
“Actually, there is someone here.” They turned to see a tall man with dark hair walking toward them from one of the rooms they had passed. He was dressed in dark red robes, with a majestic navy cape flowing behind him.
Forca squealed as she threw herself at him. “Lar Gand, you little sneak!”
“Hey, you! Where’ve you been? I missed you.”
“You missed me, or you missed pushing me around?” They shared a laugh at the playful joke before she became serious again. “I’ve been around. How are… things?”
“Not too good, it seems. Carno is still at Zolan’s throat, and I’m still playing middle-man.” Lar Gand was an Imperial Senate representative from the planet Daxam, which was in the same system as the opposing planets of Zolan and Carno. It was his job to act as a negotiator when things got especially tense between the two peoples. “But enough about me,” he went on. “Obi-Wan told me you weren’t coming. Did you change your mind?”
“Or it was changed for me,” she replied icily. “I’m afraid I won’t be staying long. Just long enough to get some answers.”
Ortani jumped in before her temper had a chance to flare up again. “We were actually looking for my father. Do you know where he is?”
“Yeah, he’s with Rowena in his office. Just keep going down this hallway, take a right, then it’s the third doorway on the left.”
Forca forced a smile through her gloomy mood. “Thanks, Lar. It was good seeing you.”
“Good seeing you, too. You’ll have to give me your apartment address so I can stop by next time I make it to the Core.”
With a nod and a wave, she started back down the hall. Ortani jogged to catch up to her, falling into step beside her. “You like him, don’t you?”
“No.”
“Come on, admit it! You like him.”
“Nope.”
“Even just a little bit?”
“Shut up now, okay? I don’t like him, and that’s that.”
He rolled his eyes as they turned down another hallway to the right. “Sure you don’t,” he muttered.
“Oh, come on! He is way out of my league, anyway. I mean, he’s a Daxamite for crying out loud!”
“Hey, he’s no more out of your league than Kara is out of mine.” She glared rather pointedly at him. “Ok, ok, so Kara might be a little out of my league.”
“She also happens to be seeing Lar at the moment.”
For several moments, he was struck speechless. “All right, you got me there.”
“You know your father would be appalled if he heard you talk like that in the first place, right?” He chose not to answer.
“Didn’t I tell you that I wanted you training?” Xanatos didn’t even bother to glance at the man that entered the room, but rather continued with his work on the incredibly large machine before him.
Blackash took one glance at the device. It resembled something like an oversized doorway, a portal of some kind, with a large display screen and control bank attached to one side. He wasn’t very impressed with it. He’d seen it before. “We need to talk.” He received a slightly amused look from his superior, but he ignored it. “You didn’t have to kill her. She didn’t do anything.”
“Ah, I see. Having second thoughts about your quest for revenge?”
“No, I just don’t see…”
“Then I suggest you forget about her,” Xanatos interrupted, bringing his gaze up and fixing the unruly soldier with a dark glare. “She was a casualty, and better yet, your brother’s future daughter. I should think you’d be pleased with my decision. Unless you’re getting soft?”
Blackash paused a moment, letting his anger simmer, but afraid to say anything else. “No,” he answered curtly, forcing his clenched fists to relax.
“Good.” Xanatos nodded, turning once again to the machine. “Then your previous orders still hold. I want you training. And I don’t want to hear any more about Rachel. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes sir.” The reply was militarily automatic and cold. He inclined his head in submission before stalking out of the room.
“’Cry Havoc! and let slip the dogs of war.’” Xanatos almost rolled his eyes as he turned to face the bald young man who had come up behind him.
“More like, ‘Cry War! and let slip the Havok’s revenge.’” He allowed himself to smile slightly at his cleverness as he made a final adjustment to the machine. “Before long, I’ll have both of those little brats under my control. And when I do, let this world and all others fear the Summers’ heat.”
Nobody said a word for several minutes. Perched on the edge of the desk at the center of the large room, Obi-Wan could only stare at her. Ortani looked uncomfortable, keeping his gaze on the patterned carpet on the floor, while Rowena watched the staring contest that was taking place with some slight interest.
“I don’t understand,” Forca said at last, her voice carrying clearly through the room from her seat on one of the chairs across from the desk. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Forca…”
“I was your Padawan for almost two years, and you never thought to tell me that I was you daughter?”
At last, Rowena broke in. “Forca, it was a highly complicated situation…”
“But that’s so…”
“Let me finish. When you were born, the Jedi Council sensed a great destiny on you. But I warned them that it might not be wise to keep you in this Dimension. Xanatos is the great evil of this cycle, and you are the force to oppose him. He knows this, and he’s been looking for you for several years now. He would surely have found you if you had stayed here and trained as a Jedi, allowing your sensitivity to the Force be known across the galaxy for those with malicious intent to discover. So I took you to the First Dimension, to be raised by Earth parents until your destiny should set in.”
Forca scoffed at the story. “Like some sithspawned, corny comic book hero, or something? Because that’s what this is starting to sound like, to me.” She got up to leave, but Obi-Wan stopped her.
“Forca, please listen…”
“No! I’ve been listening to both of you for two years now, and all you’ve done so far is lie. Well I’m sick of it. If this is some kind of joke, then you’ve had your laugh. I’m leaving.”
“This isn’t a joke. And we didn’t lie to you.”
“Yeah, well you did a pretty good job of concealing the truth.” As she turned once more to go, she ran headfirst into the tall form of Lar Gand. “I’m sorry, Lar,” she sputtered. “I have to go.”
The highway that ran from the Synor spaceport to the Zolan capital of Korlan was raised several kilometers above the ground. Directly underneath the wide bridge, on the outskirts of the city, was the marketplace, a bustling jumble of buzzing noise, screeching vendors, and shouting customers. Hard rain was frequent in these parts, if only brief, and various beings crowded under the overpass in order to prevent from getting drenched. It was raining hard when Lar found her, huddled in a relatively vacant area near one of the bridge supports.
“You all right, kid?” he shouted over the noise of the torrent. She nodded, pulling her thin cloak closer around her and shivering in the wet chill. “They’re all looking for you!”
“I don’t care!” she shouted back. “I can’t go back there! He doesn’t want me!”
“That’s not true!” They were interrupted as a flash of lightning pierced the sky, followed closely by the sharp crack of thunder. Lar scooted in closer to get out of the downpour, putting his arms around her to shield her from the biting wind. “You know they never wanted to let you go,” he went on. “It was a difficult decision, for both of them.”
“How would you know?” He could tell by the sound of her voice that not all the moisture on her face was from the rain. “They put me up for adoption, for Force’s sake. Do you know how many kids they kept? There’s four of us, and only I got shipped off to some boring reality Dimension, to ‘live a normal life,’ as he put it.”
“They didn’t want to lose you. Xanatos was going to kill you.”
“I told you, I don’t care.” She buried her face in his chest as he held her in his strong arms. “I don’t want to be the Keeper of the Dimensions. It’s too complicated. I just want to be me.”
“Don’t worry,” he soothed. “I’m sure everything will turn out fine.”
Before long, the rain stopped, and beings of every kind returned to their bartering and arguing in the open streets. It was as if the vicious downpour had never happened, save for the damp ground. Water was shaken out of various stall coverings and business went on. Lar took Forca’s hand and led her out into the throng. “So, what are you going to do now?”
She shrugged, wiping her eyes with her free hand. “I don’t know.” She seemed lost in thought for a while before she spoke again. “Do you think you could take me to the Alliance?”
“Wouldn’t you rather Ortani take you?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think I’d be comfortable flying with him right now. It would be too awkward.”
“I understand. Well, if you wouldn’t mind making a quick stop on Daxam first, I think we could arrange it.”
The shimmering figure before her stared blankly for but a few seconds before answering. “Are you sure?”
She nodded, resolute in her decision. “Yes. I need some time to think, to process all of this. And you know me. I can’t sit still for more than a few hours without going stir crazy. It’ll give me something to do.” It was all she could do to keep her voice at a civil tone.
“You do realize that war is something that must be taken seriously? It’s not just a hobby.”
“I know.” You didn’t want to be my father before. Why start now? She wanted to say it, but somehow she couldn’t make herself utter the words.
“Well, then…” He paused, obviously wanting to say something as well, but also not able to force the words to come. “Be careful.”
“I will.” The connection was cut. There was nothing more to say.
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