Felucia

The ironvine whistled through the air and impacted against the aged fungal wall with a dull "whumpf," the low noise of impact accompanied by a cloud of spores shaken loose by the force of the blow. Somewhere in the bright mushroom blooms overhead, a startled bird took wing and was quickly gone.

The tendrils in the shaman's eyepits waved softly with the effort of concentration. The ironvine looped itself slowly around a thin white plant stalk and with a sudden jerk pulled tight, splitting the plant in two. The other tribals watched intently.

"Not bad. A lot of strength in that first hit, but you lost focus too quickly. You might have gotten the second stormtrooper, but the third would have blasted you before you could recover." Stathas Dorn prowled restlessly around the outside of the group, moving in and out of the dark shadows cast by the towering mushrooms. Even the least trained of the Felucian adepts could feel the Force swirling around their master like a stormcloud.

What is it, Stathasdorn-honored? Why do you move so? Is danger close? The shaman growled in the guttural Felucian tongue, but the Force brought the meaning clear to Stathas' mind.

"No. Not close. Halfway across the galaxy." He could feel it, in the secret dark center of his heart. A distant call from a voice long sealed away, startling in clarity and strength. Time and distance and effort had never truly quieted it. "A confrontation... my old friends and students. And my Master."

The Felucians spoke to each other in a quiet buzz of apprehension. More than one long, rough face turned up toward the stars hidden by the jungle's canopy. Will you go to them, Stathasdorn-honored?

Dorn took a deep breath of the moist air. The smell of rot, sweet and musty and so familiar now, was a comfort. "No. I... it would not be wise for me to face my old Master. It would... it would not be wise."

You fear he would turn you back to the Darkness?

"Yes. No. Perhaps he could still turn me. Perhaps I would turn myself in the effort to destroy him utterly. In the end, it would make little difference. I can only hope that they succeed, but prepare for the possibility of their failure." The words had more edge than he had intended. Dorn felt the anger rising in him, a black tide whose power he had once been foolish enough to believe he commanded. He closed his eyes and took another breath. The anger was tinged with... fear? Desperation? But why? Dorn was as safe now as anything on Felucia could ever be, surrounded by his allies and students. What could he be afraid of?

Then he realized. The fear was not his. No more than was the anger.

His Master must truly be desperate, for his feelings to be so powerful and unguarded.

The currents of the Force around him ran thick with worry and confusion as the Felucians also began to sense the struggle taking place. The shaman began to sing to his people, old battle chants and prayers to focus their minds and wills. Dorn tuned it out, focused instead on the whispers of the Force as battle raged so very far away. Time passed in a blur as emotions dark and terrible raged through Dorn, so fast and chaotic that he could not say which were his and which were his Master's.

And then it was over. A short, sudden cry in his heart... a sharp blow that brought him to his knees on the lichen carpet... and then quiet. His Master's voice, gone. Its black place in his spirit filled only with the gentle whispers of Force.

The relief was enough to make him weep.

Stathasdorn-honored? What has happened? Have you been injured? Your eyepits leak fluid.

Dorn couldn't conceal his smile. "Somebody just did me a very big favor. It's one I intend to repay."

The shaman hunched his face down into his torso, a Felucian gesture of confusion. Repay? How?

"By finishing your training. Back to work!" Effortlessly, Dorn reached out with the Force and lifted the ironvine back into the Shaman's hand. The Force sang to him, as crystal clear and strong as it had ever been.

Gone But Not Forgotten

Egon Pak, former Republic soldier. Likes: jet packs, choking people. Dislikes: people insulting clones, the Empire. Egon died on Felucia while destroying the dark Jedi Zer'ul.



Saz, Duros mechanic. Likes: fixing things, droids. Dislikes: social interaction, being a prisoner. Saz is currently permanently assigned as an Alliance technician on one of its vessels. We're sure he is quite happy, although the other techs probably aren't.


Stathos Dorn, redeeemed (?) Dark Jedi. Likes: secrets, children. Dislikes: questions, being too nice. Stathos decided to seek his own path in the galaxy, although he did provide protection to some young Force users to help out.



Kerrick Sunsage, Jedi guardian. Likes: protecting others, the Force. Dislikes: carrots, sausages. Kerrick sacrificed himself to save the life of the young girl, Dory, during her rescue from the dark Jedi Zer'ul.