CHAPTER 2: STRANDED ON THE SHORES OF OCHERON

The shuttle carrying the Matratis, exiled king of Fannefax, and his Jedi bodyguard Obi Wan Kenobi is in grave danger...


An explosion rippled through the steel hull of the shuttle, and Obi Wan's mind shifted into another plane of consciousness.

The explosion occurred in the cockpit; Obi Wan felt the deaths of the pilots instantly. In that same instant, the fail-safe systems of the shuttle responded by slamming a six inch plasteel blast door into place, protecting the rest of the shuttle from explosive decompression. The door violently slid into place in the blink of an eye.

In that same instant, Obi Wan's Jedi trained mind reached several inescapable conclusions.

The shuttle had been sabotaged. No doubt by the same hand that arranged for King Matratis' exile from his homeworld and throne.

The navcomputer was to blame. The pilots had relied on this computer to chart a safe path through hyperspace. The computer had been compromised, and one of their lightspeed jumps took them almost directly into a large gravity well...probably a planet or a star.

The escape pod was almost certainly sabotaged as well.

Obi Wan had precious seconds in which to decide what to do with the rest of their lives.

Metratis was staring at Obi Wan with eyes wild with primal fear. His round face and bushy moustache pallid and ghostly in the sparks and haze of the cabin, the frantic light panels screaming in silent strobes. Gravity buckled and lurched, Metratis was thrown bodily to the floor only to be caught by Obi Wan's sudden out-thrust hand.

"Move!" Obi Wan shouted above the chaos. Without really knowing why, the Jedi pushed the terrified king through the small door leading to the tiny aft cargo area. Snatching up his precious satchel, Obi Wan scrambled through the door, hurriedly sealing it behind him. His training, the endless lessons and drilling, pumped through his muscles like an electric current as if his rational mind were only a single seat on the council that decided his actions. In truth, a Jedi's mind is only a piece of the whole picture.

This was good, because Obi Wan Kenobi was also an eighteen year old man, and a part of him understood the horror in Matratis' eyes.

For a precious second, Obi Wan's eyes swept the room, breathing in the details with one big mental swallow. No pressure suits, not that he would have trusted them any more than the escape pods.
His eyes stopped on one particular object. A large container. Big enough for two people.

The shuttle lurched sharply, lumbering and bucking in the presence of a large gravity field. The Force was pushing his mind, feeding his senses. Knowledge flashed through his mind, memory, lessons of the mathematics of gravity, the conditions of debris in a vacuum, the dynamics of friction in a heavy atmosphere.

He couldn't be sure if his guess was correct. It didn't matter;if they stayed on the shuttle, they were dead anyway.

Obi Wan kicked over the container, spilling out a fortune in airsealed, expensive gourmet cuisine from every corner of the galaxy. A stack of cabriin fish hit the metal deck with an icy crack.

"Sorry about the smell, Your Majesty." Bodily throwing the king inside, Obi Wan took a glance at the airlock controls, instantly freezing them in his memory. Climbing inside...a tight squeeze with the King's rotund midsection... Obi Wan took a deep breath.

"Obi! I don't understand!?"

Obi Wan braced himself against the container walls. " Hold on. "

Through the Force, Obi Wan saw the airlock controls. With a sharp push of his mind, the finger level clicked up, the unlock button pressed, and everything in the shuttle shot like a bullet through the airlock door and into space.

The seal on the container held, partially due to its quality construction, but mostly due to the extreme pressure Obi Wan was using to hold the lid in place through the Force. The inside of the container was utterly black. Flotsam from the shuttle bounced and pinged off the container's skin. Matratis was breathing in ragged gasps.

Please don't have a heart attack, Obi Wan thought, I couldn't do much about that at the moment.

The drifting of the container through space was surprisingly smooth, velvety. In fact, it was so disarmingly gentle one could almost forget that the only thing keeping out a quick and violet death by decompression was the generous shipping budget of a gourmet supplier and the intense will of a very young man.

Nothing happened for several seconds. Then both men became aware of a growing pressure, the unmistakable gradual tightening of gravity's steady hand.

Outside, a low roar began to bellow. The motion of the container was no longer gentle.

"Ah," Obi Wan grunted, " this may be...a bit rough, Your Majesty...just hold on."

Metratis' breathing was gulping, hollow.

Obi Wan reached out with the Force, feeling the space around them, searching with mental fingers their path into the future. He could feel it now, the presence of a world, a planet..very strong. He could feel the mounting air pressure as they plummeted into an atmosphere, roaring at many thousands of kilometers an hour.

Obi Wan Kenobi's mind tightened, sharpening like a laser beam on the tasks at hand. His mind gripped the container's lid, holding it against the onslaught of air and friction. He could feel the burning air frying the outside of the container, threatening to slowly bake both men alive.

The Jedi began to focus on the more trying task...slowing them down before they either exploded from the stress or flattened themselves on the surface.

The container was growing hot. Despite the intense mental focus to hold their makeshift escape pod intact, Obi Wan became aware of a dull, hazy orange light in the inches between his face and the king's. Metratis' eyes twinkled through beads of heavy, panicked sweat as he looked up at the container lid's seal and saw the glowing red line there. Just inches away, a screaming inferno was ripping at the container's hull like demons lusting to yank them out into infinity and instant death.
His eyes were pulled to Obi Wan's dripping face. Obi Wan's eyes snapped open and looked back at the king, grinning. "So far so good."
Matratis simply gaped. In the tempest of his terrified mind arose the impossible thought, he's keeping us from burning alive with his mind!
Obi Wan's eyes were closed again. His forehead bunched and knotted with strain.

***
A six legged snave creeped up the shear grey rock with a halting, careful motion, its leathery head pointing arrow straight at its prey on the branch above. A triple forked tongue whipped from side to side, the snave's tiny brain buzzing with hungry anticipation. Long, clawed fingers gripped the rock so tightly that tiny fragments crumbled loose and fell silently to the shelf floor 1000 feet below.
On the branch above...so very close to the snave's slathering jaws...a ekoppi bird clucked and twittered in its nest, oblivious to the danger just below.
Now the snave's snout was close enough...the triple tongues slowly reached out...carefully...carefully.
The ekoppi bird suddenly stilled in its nest. Something wasn't right....
The snave's rotting breath was hidden in the high-step breeze, and rows of razor sharp teeth flashed wide under the ekoppi. The predator's eyes rolled back, savoring the imminent meal.
Suddenly an immense CRACK split the sky in two. The ekoppi shot into the air, and the stunned snave lost its grip on the rock face. As it cartwheeled backward through open air, dropping to the shelf floor in the dense mists below, one shocked eye spun into the blue/pink nebulous sky.
A fiery trail was drawing a line there, cleanly cutting the world in two as something plummeted toward the planet surface.

***
"Well, welcome to what is apparently the planet Ocheron, Your Majesty."

Obi Wan fiddled with his contax, reading everything his miniature computer had to say about the planet.

Matratis was sitting on rock. He was dripping wet, his clothing ripped in places, but otherwise the king was none the worse for wear. His face was ruddy and distressed, the moustache which was usually fidgeting was now still as he eyed the charred husk of the gourmet food container that had saved both of their lives. It was a blackened husk on the outside, but through the power of the Force, Obi Wan had not only held it together through planetary re-entry but had somehow managed to put them down in a small lake.

The hull of the container still smoked.

"Well, this isn't too bad, really, Your Majesty," Obi Wan remarked, staring at the screen of the contax, "This is an independent mining planet. Should be no problem finding a transport off-planet and back on our way to Alderaan."

When Metratis didn't answer, Obi Wan looked up. The king was eyeing Obi Wan like a strange creature he'd never laid eyes on before.

"That was....you just....I...I don't..." Metratis looked at his bare feet in the sand. He looked again at the husk of the cargo container. My God. He did that with his mind! "Obi Wan," the King's voice lowered, heavy with sudden, immense respect, "Thank you."

Obi Wan grinned as if he'd just won a hand of sabaac. "Your Majesty, I only did what you hired me to do, after all."

"I think I owe you a new pair of boots, my friend."

The Force pulled at the young Jedi's mind and Obi Wan's eyes took in the horizon at the end of the wide lake. In the mist and churning clouds, a tiny speck was growing. A shuttle of some kind. Obi Wan and the king had been spotted.

"Speaking of doing my job, Your Majesty..." Obi Wan pulled the black travelling cloak around his shoulders and stepped the water's edge, never taking his eyes from the quickly growing dark spot. Faintly over the heavy air and rolling water, he could hear the shuttle's engines.

Obi Wan prepared himself to be the humble beggar in need, absently brushing his fingers along the cold, machined metal of the lightsaber hidden in the black folds of his cloak.

NEXT: CHAPTER 3: ENTER THE SHADOW

FROM THE PERSONAL JOURNAL OF OBI WAN KENOBI - 1

Begin recording and transcribe text....

Poggam United Fleet Station.... Galactic 5, 1, 54.2 Spin...

Its very late by local chronometry. Metratis is in his rented room asleep. The Poggammi who run the station are originally from a planet orbiting a dark star, so they tend to keep the station annoyingly dim.

My own room is comfortable enough, but small. There's a smell of what I can only hope was some previous traveller's pet.

We will stay on the UF station another 12 hours, then our shuttle is bound for Klissik. Klissik is our last layover before the jump to Alderaan. The sooner the better. I've never seen Alderaan, but any place with proper civilization is welcome.
Fannefax is a beautiful world of course... the seas and summits around Metratis' fortress are marvelous... but I prefer the hustle and bustle of the urban life. All those people, it reminds me why I choose the life of a Jedi. So many stories, so many little mysteries.

This station is lively enough. I might get into a sabaac game later; I was extended an invite on the intermezzo level. My boots are nearly worn through and funds are low at the moment. I shudder to think what Master Yoda would say.

Ah, Yoda. I love my master, of course. So wise and kind...well, kind in his way. But I wonder if he's been off that little swamp planet in three hundred years? He's brilliant, of course, and a vast power in the Living Force... but would it hurt him to get out among the stars again? To walk the universe? I can't help but wonder if he's a bit out of touch with mere mortals.

Maybe Master Yoda needs a good girlfriend. I'm assuming his kind, whatever he is, has women. Maybe not. Maybe they just split in two and there's another little Yoda half running around out there. Hm. Scary thought.

Hm. Ah. I'm thinking of the twins on Bandomeer. Ulli and Edu. Funny to think of them now. Ulli was the prettiest. Or was it Edu? Oh decisions, decisions. Ah, well...long past now. I hope they're well.

Oh, ITEM: Another Chrome family syndicate has signed the Republic Peace Accord. The ruling family of Monmarch Telechromics has surrendered their cloning facilities and agreed to help build up the worlds they've destroyed. I don't want to be overly optimistic, but the Clone Wars do appear to be truly losing their steam after all this time.

ITEM: Senator Nunca Palpatine from Desmodar is in the news again. This time he's managed to wrangle a bigger budget out of the core worlds for expansion of the Republic Fleet. Sometimes I wonder if Palpatine should have been a Jedi. He's an admirable man.

[CHIME}

Ah, its late. I should sleep. Sabaac can wait. Tomorrow comes early. I'm ready to be on our way to Alderaan.

End transcription and uplink to Ordoyun database.

CHAPTER 1 : A Long Time Ago, in a Galaxy Far, Far Away....

Forget all you know....

After two hundred years of war throughout the Galaxy, there is a glimmer of hope on the horizon.

The fierce battles that have consumed the worlds of the Outer Rim have begun to abate at last. Republic soldiers have finally gained the upper hand against the powerful Chrome warlords and their legions of clone warriors. The ravaged worlds of the Rim are slowly beginning to rebuild their shattered lives.

But the Great Republic, spanning half the Galaxy, has suffered much from two centuries of bloodshed and chaos. Unending war has stretched the once mighty principles of justice and democracy to the breaking point. Corruption has taken root, and most dangerous of those who now move to seize power is a young politician from the ice world of Desmodar: Senator Nunca Palpatine.

Politics matter little to the shadowy, noble Jedi Knights. Spread throughout the Galaxy on mysterious errands of adventure and mercy, the Jedi remain ever behind history's curtain. Few know anything of the Jedi Knights besides supernatural, awesome tales. Few suspect the awesome power they serve, yet also wield... the all-powerful Living Force.

And more hidden still are the eternal enemies of the Jedi, waging a war of flesh and bone, spirit and mind since time immortal. They are the Dark Lords, the hands of evil, the wicked masters of the Sith.

Obi Wan Kenobi, a young Jedi Knight-in-Waiting, has found station as a bodyguard to the deposed ruler of the planet Fannefax, King Metratis. On route to a safe haven for the King on the planet Alderaan, Obi Wan does not suspect the trial to come at the hands of the loathsome Sith.

Obi Wan folded his arms tightly against the chill of the cabin's over-processed atmosphere. Matratis was accustomed to the chilly rains of Fannefax, and so completely comfortable in the cold; Obi Wan was originally from sunny Bandomeer and even the thick black weave of his overcloak couldn't shut out the chill completely.

The shuttle bucked and groaned under the strain as it bullied its way out of the planetary gravitational field. Obi Wan would not miss this little layover planet ( Klissik was the name...possibly...Obi Wan couldn't remember) and the young Jedi was anxious for their next stop: Alderaan, and safety.

King Matratis snored loudly in the salon couch across the cabin. The lights were dim, blinking red, blue, and yellow like holiday livery. Even in the dark, Matratis' rotund form was unmistakable. Obi Wan grinned at his fitfully sleeping client. Matratis was a good man, a good leader, and Obi Wan had liked him immediately. What the King lacked in brilliance he made up in heart, in compassion. The people around him, servants, lobbyists, even many of the politicians had become fiercely loyal to King Matratis over time. It took a hell of a lot, Obi Wan thought ruefully, for this king to be forced from his station and into exile.

Matratis buzzed fitfully in his sleep, his bushy mustache fluttering. The cheerful, earnest face Obi Wan had first met was still there, but now it was buried under weariness and the sad weight of betrayal.

Betrayal.
Obi Wan shifted his body and breathed out the hint of unhappy memory.

Obi Wan Kenobi was very young, barely 18 by the chronometry of his homeworld of Bandomeer. His apprenticeship under the odd Jedi Master Yoda had officially ended only a galactic year earlier, yet it seemed a lifetime away. He reluctantly admitted to himself that he did actually miss the little green toad now and then. He certainly did not miss the endless drills, the sunrise running through lethal jungles, the sharp, unhappy poke of a strict gimer stick. But often in the quiet of the evening when his duties as Matratis' bodyguard relaxed a bit, Obi Wan would stare into the cold Fannefax sky and wonder around which pinpoint of light circled mossy green Dagobah. How long had that clever little imp sat in that boggy mud? How many centuries? He would likely outlive Obi Wan by a long shot, that was certain.

There was something of Yoda in Matratis, Obi Wan thought. There was some common sense of simplicity they shared. Strolling the halls of Matratis' hereditary fortress, perched high above the rolling sea, Obi Wan and the King had talked long hours into the Fannefax night. King Matratis did not often discuss politics with Obi Wan- a fact for which Obi Wan was very grateful. As the political forces around the King surged and began to threaten his position on his beloved world, Obi Wan found Matratis' contributions to their conversations leaning toward the simpler, philosophical facts of life. It was hard, Obi Wan often thought, not to see Matratis as a kind of father. Obi Wan had known many father figures in his life.

Again, a whiff of dark thought arose in the young Jedi's mind. Again, he let it go.

"You're edgy, Obi."

The clever old King was cocking one shining eye at Obi Wan from across the dark of the cabin. There was a threat of grin under the bushy white moustache.

"Edgy, Your Majesty?" Obi Wan brushed the black silkweave of his heavy cloak. " I'm still wondering how you won that last sabaac game. I had my heart set on a new pair of boots."
Matratis' eyes widened in mock-indignation. "Are you implying I don't pay you enough, Kenobi?"

"You've paid me? I thought that little bit of change was just the tip!"

Matratis chuckled into his hand, cheeks redder than usual under the electronic glow of the surrounding instrument panels. The voices of the two-man crew through the hatchway murmured quietly, the engines hummed low around them. Obi Wan was surprised to find himself reluctant to meet the old King in the eye.

"I'm a lucky man, Obi." Matratis folded his hands across his round belly and looked at the bulkhead behind Obi Wan's head. The glinting light in his eyes might have been more than the flashing lights of the cabin, his face seemed lined and care worn. "Very lucky. Though distantly related, I've never been more than publicly civil to Galt Antilles. For such a one to so graciously open his home to us. Such a fine man, Antilles. This I knew through reputation, of course. But now..."

Obi Wan merely nodded.

"Kenobi, sir?" The co-pilot called through the hatchway, "Our engines are primed. We've begun calculations for the jump into hyperspace. We will be lightspeed in moments."

"Very good, Maldin. Shave as much time off our route as possible." Obi Wan thought a moment, " but steer well clear of the northplus border of Hutt space."

"Yes, sir."

Matratis was watching Obi Wan. "So paranoid, Kenobi. Surely the Hutts would have little interest in paupers such as ourselves." There was a wink in the King's eye.

"Paranoia is my specialty, Your Majesty."

Obi Wan smiled serenely at the King, who, nodding and chuckling to himself, settled back into the couch, shutting his eyes.

Settling back himself, Obi Wan reached up to the back of his head, unwinding one of the coiled braids of dark brown hair. Working his fingers into the leather thong wrapped around the braid, unwinding it slowly, meditatively, Obi Wan thought of old Master Yoda sitting like a lump on a rotten log somewhere in the infinite stars. Even in his daydream, Yoda smirked at Obi Wan in exactly his old familiar way that suggested one last secret to tell, one last little lesson from Master to Pupil.

Obi Wan's fingers were rewinding the braid in the same slow, meditative way when the Force pulled at his mind like a swift and irresistable tide.

Obi Wan...

Through the Force, a spectral voice called. Obi Wan's every nerve and cell sprang to full awareness, awaiting the message from this specter of the Force; the voice as familiar to him as his own...

Your way is troubled, Obi Wan Kenobi. Seek out a brother on the world ahead....

Obi Wan's mouth moved to ask for more, but at that moment a bright flash roared throught he cabin. A rain of sparks and billowing smoke bellowed from the cockpit.

Through the Force, Obi Wan knew. The pilots were dead.

The young Jedi had to act now, and act fast.

NEXT: STRANDED ON THE SHORES OF OCHERON...

Art by Tae Young Choi