Other Fan Fiction / Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction ❯ The Jedi of Chaos ❯ Chapter 0 ( Prologue )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: DarkSoar 
Ranma Korr meets and scares the crap outta Rosh Penin as they arrive on Yavin in a shuttlecraft.
Anime/Manga: Other Fan Fiction / Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Sci-fi / Adventure / Action | Type: Crossover | Uploaded On: 06.24.2006 | Pages: 3 | Words: 3.6K | Visits: 1.5K | Status: Work In Progress
Ranma Korr meets and scares the crap outta Rosh Penin as they arrive on Yavin in a shuttlecraft.
Anime/Manga: Other Fan Fiction / Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Sci-fi / Adventure / Action | Type: Crossover | Uploaded On: 06.24.2006 | Pages: 3 | Words: 3.6K | Visits: 1.5K | Status: Work In Progress
Disclaimer: Star Wars - Jedi Knight: Jedi Academy belongs to Lucas Arts. Ranma 1/2 belongs to Rumiko Takahashi and Viz Video.
A Star Wars-Jedi Knight: Jedi Academy/Ranma 1/2 Crossover
Necessary Fic information and timeline:
For Star Wars, this fic takes place eleven years after Return of the Jedi.
Ranmaverse timeline doesn't exist, as this is a merging of the two universes.
The Jedi of Chaos
Chapter 0 (version 1.00)
Arrival. Ambush!
An old, battered New Republic shuttlecraft traveled through the silent void of space towards the planet Yavin.
"We'll be arriving at the Academy in around ten minutes."
At the pilot's announcement, several of his passengers let out sighs of relief. A few made their feelings known by saying
"Finally!" and "It's about time!"
Of course, sixteen hours of flight with not even a holovid for entertainment meant sixteen hours of sheer boredom. For the most part, the mood change within the shuttlecraft was nearly palpable; a sense of anxiety and excitement perked up their spirits and started a bit of fidgeting for some of them.
One of them, twenty year old Rosh Penin, was quite relieved when he heard the news.
"That would be so great," he stated. "I've been going stir-crazy over here! Make it quick, will ya?" He yawned and stretched, wincing as he worked out the kinks in his spine. During the long flight he had attempted to get some sleep, but unfortunately had failed miserably.
It was just that the craft itself was an older model, over fifteen years in service if Rosh had read the registration plaque correctly. And with its age came various ...... inconveniences.
Nothing life threatening to be sure, but nonetheless all of them combined served to make the trip almost impossible to tolerate.
For starters, the old junk's seats weren't reclinable, making it very difficult to sleep. And their padding was nearly worn out; Rosh could feel the hard, unyielding metal of the frame beneath. He found himself occasionally shifting about to relieve the uncomfortable pressure against his buttocks.
Another nuisance were the buffers that were supposed to dampen the roar produced by the engines. 'Supposed' being the operational word; Rosh was of the opinion that the damned things hadn't been properly maintained in years. As a consequence, an irritating, constant rumble was felt and heard from both sides of the shuttle and interfered with any of his attempts to rest.
There were more but Rosh chose not to think about them; it would've been just a further waste of time. Instead, he began to think about the events that had pointed him in the direction of Luke Skywalker's Jedi Academy on Yavin IV.
Two weeks ago, he had been in the middle of fulfilling a childhood dream of his; joining the New Republic Army. Already lean, fit, and possessing an athletic build, Rosh knew that any headstart he had on the physically grueling demands of military basic training would help achieve that goal.
He had just gotten the military crewcut when the next step of the registration process threw him a curveball which forever changed his life.
When Luke Skywalker first conceived of the idea for rebuilding the Jedi Order, he had undergone thorough and exhaustive research in order to direct his search for potential disciples. In the process of doing so, he had come across an Imperial Intelligence device which he discovered had been used in hunting down Jedi Knights. It worked by scanning an individual to find out if he or she possessed an affinity for the Force. The Empire had used it to wipe out the old Jedi Order, but Skywalker intended to use it to help rebuild the new one.
So, with the cooperation of the New Republic's government, Luke had incorporated it within the Military Academy's registration process.
Like the rest of his fellow passengers, Rosh had been found to be Force sensitive. Some stern looking Jedi by the name of Kam Solusar had given him the option of learning how to harness his Force potential at the Jedi Academy. After a few days of serious deliberation, Rosh had finally accepted it.
Being Force sensitive was something about himself he had never suspected. Looking over his life, Rosh was able to perceive many subtle clues, but since they had just been that, subtle, he'd either ignored or misinterpreted them entirely.
As a child, his reflexes were extremely quick, even much quicker than those older than he was. He had taken great pride in that. When his age hit the double digits, Rosh became slowly aware that he was unusually perceptive and intuitive for someone his age.
Somehow, he could always tell when a person was twisting the truth or outright lying to him. Hidden meanings and the subtle nuances of body language required a bit more work, but experience soon made interpreting them as easy as spitting.
Up until now, Rosh had never fancied himself a Jedi, scouring evil from the galaxy. He'd always wanted to be a soldier, or if not that, a fighter pilot. Thus, he'd no preconceptions of what he faced ahead. That Solusar character only gave him a brief overview of the type of training he would receive at the Jedi Temple as well as a summary of the purpose of the Jedi Order. The only other information Rosh had was the occasional holocast on the History of Coruscant channel, as well as the rare interview of Luke Skywalker.
When the shuttlecraft had picked him up, the first thing he did after lift-off was to get a look at the prospective Jedi students that he would be living and studying beside with.
Other than himself, there were three humans onboard while the rest were sentient aliens. To pass the time, Rosh had taken a closer look at them.
He'd noted with great interest three female Twi-leks, two of who seemed to be a couple, judging by their close snuggling.
The third however had chosen the farthest seat as far away as possible from them, a clear expression of disgust on her face. It had been readily obvious to him that she did not approve of her two fellow Twi-leks relationship.
There was also a single Rodian who, in his opinion, had looked homesick. Rosh couldn't decide whether to feel pity or amusement, then forgot about it as he caught sight of two Kel-dor males. Their faces look like something out of his worst nightmares as a child. It looked as if some black, crab-like parasite had forcibly attached itself to the lower halves of their faces. It made a shiver go up his spine, and Rosh had to consciously fight the urge to cringe whenever he happened to
glance their way.
The only one of them had been and still was asleep ever since Corsuscant was the lone female Zabrak. Aside from volume of
her snoring, there was little else of interest about her.
As for the other humans...
One of them, an older man with graying hair at the temples near the front didn't rate more than a few seconds of Rosh's time.
The second, a black-haired guy with a small ponytail, sat in Rosh's row a few seats away from him. Yet so far, he'd acted
as if Rosh didn't exist. Well that was okay, Rosh had decided to return the favor and ignored him in return.
It turned out to be quite easy to do so, especially since there was a pleasant distraction in the form of an extremely attractive red-head with the most vibrant hair color he'd ever seen. She had lovely brown eyes and for some reason, Rosh found himself looking quite intently at her, silently drinking in her beauty and trying vainly to gather up the courage to go and talk to her.
But even that soon lost its appeal. Bored again, and lacking anything else better to do, Rosh took the opportunity to try
and get a response from his standoffish seatmate.
He began complaining out loud about the shuttlecraft's condition itself. Not too loud for the pilot to overhear and possibly
take offense, but with enough volume to clearly reach his aloof neighbor's ears.
For nearly a minute, Rosh did himself proud, ranting and whining like a pro. Despite the fact that it was a rather childish
and immature thing to do, Rosh felt slighted earlier by the other boy's antisocial tendencies.
A little payback was necessary.
Several seconds later, his attempts unexpectedly hit paydirt. The ponytailed snob (as Rosh grew to think of him) finally
responded, his flat voice snapping Rosh out of his critique of the shuttle's comfort room.
"Hey."
Rosh was so caught up in act that his response was automatic and said in a distracted manner. Yet as he answered his neighbor, a smug grin slowly formed as a result of his little victory.
"Yeah? Anything I can do for ya?"
"Shut up."
The blunt reply was spoken in a harsher tone and this time it made Rosh turn his head to regard the 'snob' with growing anger.
Said 'snob' was sitting at the other end of the row, not having moved at all since the beginning of the flight. Rosh estimated him to be around his age and for the first time since he boarded the shuttle, looked at him real close.
The guy's ponytail ('Oh jeez, what's he doing with such a feminine hairstyle?' wondered Rosh derisively) was short and neatly tied with a leather cord, barely reaching the middle of his shoulders. Dressed in a brown, sleeveless leather jacket, a long sleeved gray tunic, and black pants with matching boots, he looked like your everyday citizen. Discounting the fact that he
was also a potential Jedi student, that is.
And he still wasn't looking at Rosh, as if the former military recruit wasn't worth his time. That was how Rosh chose to
interpret it, and it just made him angrier.
His mouth firmly set, Rosh responded to the unheard challenge. He unbuckled his seat restraints and stood up, cracking his neck and stretching for a bit. Narrowing his eyes, the young Penin walked a few steps closer, crossing his arms over his chest, and glared down fiercely at the 'snob'.
This sudden movement drew the attention of the other passengers but that didn't matter to Rosh. All that mattered was putting the snobbish punk in his place.
It was weird; normally, he wasn't really aggressive and usually was slow to anger, but there was something about this guy that that just plain rubbed him the wrong way entirely.
"Say that to my face, you little piece of taun-taun shi-," Rosh began, but the other boy turned his face up and when the two made eye contact, it made a chill run up Rosh's spine.
Those gray-blue eyes... It wasn't their color that so quickly silenced Rosh; rather it was the chilling, emotionless stare emanating from them.
Never before had Rosh never experienced such lack of feeling, nor such an icy cold demeanor before. He imagined that if those eyes had been a weapon, he would be a human popsicle by now. Held fast by the other boy's stare, Rosh's anger was quickly draining away and being replaced by the beginnings of a wary caution. He retreated back two steps and dropped back into his seat, prompting several snorts of amusement and a few chuckles from his audience.
The young Penin's mouth suddenly became dry and queasy as he abruptly realized that those eyes were sizing him up, calculating his threat potential as it were, and coming up with the best way of .... neutralizing him, should the situation call for it.
Then, just like that, his ice-cold neighbor seemed to dismiss him and casually looked away. With the spell broken, Rosh blinked twice and stared down at his lap, feeling utterly humiliated, confused and angry. Unsure about the wisdom of locking gazes again, he cautiously eyed the other boy who was completely ignoring him. In the process of doing so, Rosh saw a glint of metal that was alongside the other's left thigh. It had escaped his earlier scrutiny and now caught his interest.
Trying to act casual, Rosh craned his neck and sat up straight, trying to get a better view.
The glint of metal turned out to be a metallic cylinder, attached to his antagonist's belt by a thin leather strap. Since it was partially hidden by the armrests, Rosh couldn't exactly say for sure what it was, but he concluded that it did seem to resemble a....lightsaber?
After a moment of indecision, his curiosity won over and Rosh stood up again. From the height advantage, he had a much clearer view of the item. After a few seconds, he silently admitted that it did vaguely resemble Luke Skywalker's lightsaber in the holo-news, if only in length (around fourteen inches) and diameter (an inch and a half).
However, the similarities stopped there. The possible lightsaber looked, for lack of a better term, brand-new, as if it was recently made. But something was wrong with that, because even he
knew that lightsabers were highly valuable antiques, well out of range for an average sentient. It wasn't as if there were factories out there mass-producing them.
Rosh therefore decided that it either meant that it was phony or that this guy was incredibly rich and/or had good connections to the black market. There was a niggling suspicion, however, in the back of his mind that it was the genuine article. Jedi training was serious stuff, and to be selected for it was to be considered an honor. In Rosh's opinion, someone had to be a complete idiot to try and impress a Jedi master with such a fake.
His interest was piqued in such a way that Rosh forgot he was supposed to be wary of his neighbor. Wanting to find out more about the 'lightsaber', he blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
"Does that work?" he asked, pointing at the item in question.
Without even looking at him, the other's mouth curled up into the slightest of smirks and said, "None of your business."
Rosh's curiosity transformed into irritation, along with some anger backing it up. 'Snobbish frigid punk,' he thought.
Narrowing his eyes, he asked, "Come on, seriously. Is that for real or not?"
Without changing his tone, his neighbor repeated his answer. "I said, none of your business."
Rosh Penin had grown up in a rather close knit community. He wasn't used to meeting anyone like this ponytailed, coldly brusque snob who he was really starting to dislike. Curiosity be damned, Rosh swore, he would infinitely be better off avoiding any further interaction with him in the future. Besides, a jerk like that deserved to be alone.
Glaring at the punk for one long moment, Rosh quickly made a rude gesture at him, which went unanswered as he'd expected, and went off to sit at the other end of the row.
"Rancor bait," he muttered under his breath, looking off in the opposite direction and left it at that.
That was when two things happened right after the other.
The pilot announced that they were just about to enter Yavin's atmosphere. He was about to continue and say something else when he was interrupted by a yell from the back of the shuttlecraft. As small as the shuttlecraft was, the volume of the cry was sufficient to get everyone's undivided attention.
"EVERYBODY, HOLD ON!! WE'RE GOING TO BE ATTACKED!!"
For one long moment, there was silence as everyone else absorbed the seemingly ridiculous statement. Then came the staring eyes and gaping mouths (including the pilot) as they regarded the lunatic who, without any reason to, would just go shouting nonsense at the top of her lungs.
The lunatic in question turned out to be the attractive red-haired young woman, whose face was a mask of shock, anxiety, and urgent fear. Before anyone else could say a single word more, her warning soon proved itself accurate as shuttle suddenly shuddered and rocked violently. People who were standing fell down or slammed hard into the walls or against each other.
Confusion and panic soon ensued.
The ceiling lights flickered as the shuttle descent took an abrupt, sharp dive.
The boring, uneventful ride had suddenly transformed into a violent, nearly uncontrollable flight going straight to hell.
The pilot called for everyone to strap themselves in, gripped the controls tightly, and desperately attempted to bring the craft under some semblance of control. His hopes were dashed when another impact, much fiercer than the first, struck the shuttle at the rear and caused a minor explosion to go off.
His eyes widened in realization of the fact that the source was one of the sublight engines. Alarmed, the pilot reacted much more quickly than he thought possible and immediately switched them off, then activated the emergency landing thrusters. Hoping that his passengers were still able to follow his instructions, he repeated his warning for them to secure themselves. Then he blanked out everything else not related to the inevitable crash landing; he would need his entire concentration for the task at hand.
As far as he was concerned, whether or not they would survive would depend on luck, skill, and the Force.
/****************/
While the pilot was struggling with the shuttle, he and his passengers had no way of knowing that their descent was being
watched.
On top of a Massassi temple, three figures cloaked in black, their identities hidden by raised hoods, watched in varying degrees of satisfaction as the battered transport coasted downward on an increasingly erratic trajectory and leaking smoke from the destroyed engine. The shapely curves on all three clearly indicated that they were of the female persuasion.
The tallest one nodded as she lowered a long, ancient looking scepter, as lengthy as she was tall, and spoke a single word.
"Go."
"Yes Master, as you wish," immediately replied the woman on the left in an excited tone of voice. The figure on the right shook her head and was slower to respond. When she did, however, it was clear she was mocking her companion.
"Yesshh, Masterr. As you....wish."
Their master growled low in her throat and suddenly the scepter was glowing with energy and leveled at them.
"By the Emperor! Stop this nonsense, both of you, before I lose my patience and decide to kill the two of you right now! Just go and do your job, Akane, Allura!"
Seemingly humbled, the two shorter women bowed to her, all the while glaring at each other, and then turned around to walk
toward the fifty-odd steps that led back to the ground. Their mutual hatred of each other had been put aside .... at least for the moment. In their minds, each knew that soon, in the near future, a reckoning would be at hand and then, once and for
all, only one of them would take their place as their Master's true disciple.
Until then, they would remain rivals, warily observing each other's movements and probing for potential weak points to be
taken advantage of. But for now, they had to focus on their mission.
The distraction had already been accomplished, courtesy of their Master. All that remained was to finish two simple tasks and their job would be done. Standing as far apart as the steps allowed, they quickly but gracefully descended. On their way down, a small wind suddenly kicked up and momentarily blew back the lower portion of their robes.
Revealing two black and red painted lightsabers.
End Chapter 0
Author's Notes:
I would like to thank (albeit belatedly) rgorman, J. Thomas Jeans, and Dev Hunt who read through my fic and responded.
Domo Arigatou.
Chapter 1 is about halfway done, but is slowed by my constant little revisions here and there. Oh well, it'll be posted when
I feel it's ready.
A Star Wars-Jedi Knight: Jedi Academy/Ranma 1/2 Crossover
Necessary Fic information and timeline:
For Star Wars, this fic takes place eleven years after Return of the Jedi.
Ranmaverse timeline doesn't exist, as this is a merging of the two universes.
The Jedi of Chaos
Chapter 0 (version 1.00)
Arrival. Ambush!
An old, battered New Republic shuttlecraft traveled through the silent void of space towards the planet Yavin.
"We'll be arriving at the Academy in around ten minutes."
At the pilot's announcement, several of his passengers let out sighs of relief. A few made their feelings known by saying
"Finally!" and "It's about time!"
Of course, sixteen hours of flight with not even a holovid for entertainment meant sixteen hours of sheer boredom. For the most part, the mood change within the shuttlecraft was nearly palpable; a sense of anxiety and excitement perked up their spirits and started a bit of fidgeting for some of them.
One of them, twenty year old Rosh Penin, was quite relieved when he heard the news.
"That would be so great," he stated. "I've been going stir-crazy over here! Make it quick, will ya?" He yawned and stretched, wincing as he worked out the kinks in his spine. During the long flight he had attempted to get some sleep, but unfortunately had failed miserably.
It was just that the craft itself was an older model, over fifteen years in service if Rosh had read the registration plaque correctly. And with its age came various ...... inconveniences.
Nothing life threatening to be sure, but nonetheless all of them combined served to make the trip almost impossible to tolerate.
For starters, the old junk's seats weren't reclinable, making it very difficult to sleep. And their padding was nearly worn out; Rosh could feel the hard, unyielding metal of the frame beneath. He found himself occasionally shifting about to relieve the uncomfortable pressure against his buttocks.
Another nuisance were the buffers that were supposed to dampen the roar produced by the engines. 'Supposed' being the operational word; Rosh was of the opinion that the damned things hadn't been properly maintained in years. As a consequence, an irritating, constant rumble was felt and heard from both sides of the shuttle and interfered with any of his attempts to rest.
There were more but Rosh chose not to think about them; it would've been just a further waste of time. Instead, he began to think about the events that had pointed him in the direction of Luke Skywalker's Jedi Academy on Yavin IV.
Two weeks ago, he had been in the middle of fulfilling a childhood dream of his; joining the New Republic Army. Already lean, fit, and possessing an athletic build, Rosh knew that any headstart he had on the physically grueling demands of military basic training would help achieve that goal.
He had just gotten the military crewcut when the next step of the registration process threw him a curveball which forever changed his life.
When Luke Skywalker first conceived of the idea for rebuilding the Jedi Order, he had undergone thorough and exhaustive research in order to direct his search for potential disciples. In the process of doing so, he had come across an Imperial Intelligence device which he discovered had been used in hunting down Jedi Knights. It worked by scanning an individual to find out if he or she possessed an affinity for the Force. The Empire had used it to wipe out the old Jedi Order, but Skywalker intended to use it to help rebuild the new one.
So, with the cooperation of the New Republic's government, Luke had incorporated it within the Military Academy's registration process.
Like the rest of his fellow passengers, Rosh had been found to be Force sensitive. Some stern looking Jedi by the name of Kam Solusar had given him the option of learning how to harness his Force potential at the Jedi Academy. After a few days of serious deliberation, Rosh had finally accepted it.
Being Force sensitive was something about himself he had never suspected. Looking over his life, Rosh was able to perceive many subtle clues, but since they had just been that, subtle, he'd either ignored or misinterpreted them entirely.
As a child, his reflexes were extremely quick, even much quicker than those older than he was. He had taken great pride in that. When his age hit the double digits, Rosh became slowly aware that he was unusually perceptive and intuitive for someone his age.
Somehow, he could always tell when a person was twisting the truth or outright lying to him. Hidden meanings and the subtle nuances of body language required a bit more work, but experience soon made interpreting them as easy as spitting.
Up until now, Rosh had never fancied himself a Jedi, scouring evil from the galaxy. He'd always wanted to be a soldier, or if not that, a fighter pilot. Thus, he'd no preconceptions of what he faced ahead. That Solusar character only gave him a brief overview of the type of training he would receive at the Jedi Temple as well as a summary of the purpose of the Jedi Order. The only other information Rosh had was the occasional holocast on the History of Coruscant channel, as well as the rare interview of Luke Skywalker.
When the shuttlecraft had picked him up, the first thing he did after lift-off was to get a look at the prospective Jedi students that he would be living and studying beside with.
Other than himself, there were three humans onboard while the rest were sentient aliens. To pass the time, Rosh had taken a closer look at them.
He'd noted with great interest three female Twi-leks, two of who seemed to be a couple, judging by their close snuggling.
The third however had chosen the farthest seat as far away as possible from them, a clear expression of disgust on her face. It had been readily obvious to him that she did not approve of her two fellow Twi-leks relationship.
There was also a single Rodian who, in his opinion, had looked homesick. Rosh couldn't decide whether to feel pity or amusement, then forgot about it as he caught sight of two Kel-dor males. Their faces look like something out of his worst nightmares as a child. It looked as if some black, crab-like parasite had forcibly attached itself to the lower halves of their faces. It made a shiver go up his spine, and Rosh had to consciously fight the urge to cringe whenever he happened to
glance their way.
The only one of them had been and still was asleep ever since Corsuscant was the lone female Zabrak. Aside from volume of
her snoring, there was little else of interest about her.
As for the other humans...
One of them, an older man with graying hair at the temples near the front didn't rate more than a few seconds of Rosh's time.
The second, a black-haired guy with a small ponytail, sat in Rosh's row a few seats away from him. Yet so far, he'd acted
as if Rosh didn't exist. Well that was okay, Rosh had decided to return the favor and ignored him in return.
It turned out to be quite easy to do so, especially since there was a pleasant distraction in the form of an extremely attractive red-head with the most vibrant hair color he'd ever seen. She had lovely brown eyes and for some reason, Rosh found himself looking quite intently at her, silently drinking in her beauty and trying vainly to gather up the courage to go and talk to her.
But even that soon lost its appeal. Bored again, and lacking anything else better to do, Rosh took the opportunity to try
and get a response from his standoffish seatmate.
He began complaining out loud about the shuttlecraft's condition itself. Not too loud for the pilot to overhear and possibly
take offense, but with enough volume to clearly reach his aloof neighbor's ears.
For nearly a minute, Rosh did himself proud, ranting and whining like a pro. Despite the fact that it was a rather childish
and immature thing to do, Rosh felt slighted earlier by the other boy's antisocial tendencies.
A little payback was necessary.
Several seconds later, his attempts unexpectedly hit paydirt. The ponytailed snob (as Rosh grew to think of him) finally
responded, his flat voice snapping Rosh out of his critique of the shuttle's comfort room.
"Hey."
Rosh was so caught up in act that his response was automatic and said in a distracted manner. Yet as he answered his neighbor, a smug grin slowly formed as a result of his little victory.
"Yeah? Anything I can do for ya?"
"Shut up."
The blunt reply was spoken in a harsher tone and this time it made Rosh turn his head to regard the 'snob' with growing anger.
Said 'snob' was sitting at the other end of the row, not having moved at all since the beginning of the flight. Rosh estimated him to be around his age and for the first time since he boarded the shuttle, looked at him real close.
The guy's ponytail ('Oh jeez, what's he doing with such a feminine hairstyle?' wondered Rosh derisively) was short and neatly tied with a leather cord, barely reaching the middle of his shoulders. Dressed in a brown, sleeveless leather jacket, a long sleeved gray tunic, and black pants with matching boots, he looked like your everyday citizen. Discounting the fact that he
was also a potential Jedi student, that is.
And he still wasn't looking at Rosh, as if the former military recruit wasn't worth his time. That was how Rosh chose to
interpret it, and it just made him angrier.
His mouth firmly set, Rosh responded to the unheard challenge. He unbuckled his seat restraints and stood up, cracking his neck and stretching for a bit. Narrowing his eyes, the young Penin walked a few steps closer, crossing his arms over his chest, and glared down fiercely at the 'snob'.
This sudden movement drew the attention of the other passengers but that didn't matter to Rosh. All that mattered was putting the snobbish punk in his place.
It was weird; normally, he wasn't really aggressive and usually was slow to anger, but there was something about this guy that that just plain rubbed him the wrong way entirely.
"Say that to my face, you little piece of taun-taun shi-," Rosh began, but the other boy turned his face up and when the two made eye contact, it made a chill run up Rosh's spine.
Those gray-blue eyes... It wasn't their color that so quickly silenced Rosh; rather it was the chilling, emotionless stare emanating from them.
Never before had Rosh never experienced such lack of feeling, nor such an icy cold demeanor before. He imagined that if those eyes had been a weapon, he would be a human popsicle by now. Held fast by the other boy's stare, Rosh's anger was quickly draining away and being replaced by the beginnings of a wary caution. He retreated back two steps and dropped back into his seat, prompting several snorts of amusement and a few chuckles from his audience.
The young Penin's mouth suddenly became dry and queasy as he abruptly realized that those eyes were sizing him up, calculating his threat potential as it were, and coming up with the best way of .... neutralizing him, should the situation call for it.
Then, just like that, his ice-cold neighbor seemed to dismiss him and casually looked away. With the spell broken, Rosh blinked twice and stared down at his lap, feeling utterly humiliated, confused and angry. Unsure about the wisdom of locking gazes again, he cautiously eyed the other boy who was completely ignoring him. In the process of doing so, Rosh saw a glint of metal that was alongside the other's left thigh. It had escaped his earlier scrutiny and now caught his interest.
Trying to act casual, Rosh craned his neck and sat up straight, trying to get a better view.
The glint of metal turned out to be a metallic cylinder, attached to his antagonist's belt by a thin leather strap. Since it was partially hidden by the armrests, Rosh couldn't exactly say for sure what it was, but he concluded that it did seem to resemble a....lightsaber?
After a moment of indecision, his curiosity won over and Rosh stood up again. From the height advantage, he had a much clearer view of the item. After a few seconds, he silently admitted that it did vaguely resemble Luke Skywalker's lightsaber in the holo-news, if only in length (around fourteen inches) and diameter (an inch and a half).
However, the similarities stopped there. The possible lightsaber looked, for lack of a better term, brand-new, as if it was recently made. But something was wrong with that, because even he
knew that lightsabers were highly valuable antiques, well out of range for an average sentient. It wasn't as if there were factories out there mass-producing them.
Rosh therefore decided that it either meant that it was phony or that this guy was incredibly rich and/or had good connections to the black market. There was a niggling suspicion, however, in the back of his mind that it was the genuine article. Jedi training was serious stuff, and to be selected for it was to be considered an honor. In Rosh's opinion, someone had to be a complete idiot to try and impress a Jedi master with such a fake.
His interest was piqued in such a way that Rosh forgot he was supposed to be wary of his neighbor. Wanting to find out more about the 'lightsaber', he blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
"Does that work?" he asked, pointing at the item in question.
Without even looking at him, the other's mouth curled up into the slightest of smirks and said, "None of your business."
Rosh's curiosity transformed into irritation, along with some anger backing it up. 'Snobbish frigid punk,' he thought.
Narrowing his eyes, he asked, "Come on, seriously. Is that for real or not?"
Without changing his tone, his neighbor repeated his answer. "I said, none of your business."
Rosh Penin had grown up in a rather close knit community. He wasn't used to meeting anyone like this ponytailed, coldly brusque snob who he was really starting to dislike. Curiosity be damned, Rosh swore, he would infinitely be better off avoiding any further interaction with him in the future. Besides, a jerk like that deserved to be alone.
Glaring at the punk for one long moment, Rosh quickly made a rude gesture at him, which went unanswered as he'd expected, and went off to sit at the other end of the row.
"Rancor bait," he muttered under his breath, looking off in the opposite direction and left it at that.
That was when two things happened right after the other.
The pilot announced that they were just about to enter Yavin's atmosphere. He was about to continue and say something else when he was interrupted by a yell from the back of the shuttlecraft. As small as the shuttlecraft was, the volume of the cry was sufficient to get everyone's undivided attention.
"EVERYBODY, HOLD ON!! WE'RE GOING TO BE ATTACKED!!"
For one long moment, there was silence as everyone else absorbed the seemingly ridiculous statement. Then came the staring eyes and gaping mouths (including the pilot) as they regarded the lunatic who, without any reason to, would just go shouting nonsense at the top of her lungs.
The lunatic in question turned out to be the attractive red-haired young woman, whose face was a mask of shock, anxiety, and urgent fear. Before anyone else could say a single word more, her warning soon proved itself accurate as shuttle suddenly shuddered and rocked violently. People who were standing fell down or slammed hard into the walls or against each other.
Confusion and panic soon ensued.
The ceiling lights flickered as the shuttle descent took an abrupt, sharp dive.
The boring, uneventful ride had suddenly transformed into a violent, nearly uncontrollable flight going straight to hell.
The pilot called for everyone to strap themselves in, gripped the controls tightly, and desperately attempted to bring the craft under some semblance of control. His hopes were dashed when another impact, much fiercer than the first, struck the shuttle at the rear and caused a minor explosion to go off.
His eyes widened in realization of the fact that the source was one of the sublight engines. Alarmed, the pilot reacted much more quickly than he thought possible and immediately switched them off, then activated the emergency landing thrusters. Hoping that his passengers were still able to follow his instructions, he repeated his warning for them to secure themselves. Then he blanked out everything else not related to the inevitable crash landing; he would need his entire concentration for the task at hand.
As far as he was concerned, whether or not they would survive would depend on luck, skill, and the Force.
/****************/
While the pilot was struggling with the shuttle, he and his passengers had no way of knowing that their descent was being
watched.
On top of a Massassi temple, three figures cloaked in black, their identities hidden by raised hoods, watched in varying degrees of satisfaction as the battered transport coasted downward on an increasingly erratic trajectory and leaking smoke from the destroyed engine. The shapely curves on all three clearly indicated that they were of the female persuasion.
The tallest one nodded as she lowered a long, ancient looking scepter, as lengthy as she was tall, and spoke a single word.
"Go."
"Yes Master, as you wish," immediately replied the woman on the left in an excited tone of voice. The figure on the right shook her head and was slower to respond. When she did, however, it was clear she was mocking her companion.
"Yesshh, Masterr. As you....wish."
Their master growled low in her throat and suddenly the scepter was glowing with energy and leveled at them.
"By the Emperor! Stop this nonsense, both of you, before I lose my patience and decide to kill the two of you right now! Just go and do your job, Akane, Allura!"
Seemingly humbled, the two shorter women bowed to her, all the while glaring at each other, and then turned around to walk
toward the fifty-odd steps that led back to the ground. Their mutual hatred of each other had been put aside .... at least for the moment. In their minds, each knew that soon, in the near future, a reckoning would be at hand and then, once and for
all, only one of them would take their place as their Master's true disciple.
Until then, they would remain rivals, warily observing each other's movements and probing for potential weak points to be
taken advantage of. But for now, they had to focus on their mission.
The distraction had already been accomplished, courtesy of their Master. All that remained was to finish two simple tasks and their job would be done. Standing as far apart as the steps allowed, they quickly but gracefully descended. On their way down, a small wind suddenly kicked up and momentarily blew back the lower portion of their robes.
Revealing two black and red painted lightsabers.
End Chapter 0
Author's Notes:
I would like to thank (albeit belatedly) rgorman, J. Thomas Jeans, and Dev Hunt who read through my fic and responded.
Domo Arigatou.
Chapter 1 is about halfway done, but is slowed by my constant little revisions here and there. Oh well, it'll be posted when
I feel it's ready.