Disclaimer: Star Wars is owned by George Lucas. I am getting no money for this. It written only for entertainment purposes and written badly at that.
STAR WARS: The Dark Times
By David "Crazedwraith" Cutter.
Prologue: Red Vengance!
A figure walked in to the ground floor of Seniar Fleet Systems Corusant office, which was actually the 1021st floor of the tower it was in. But nobody was counting.
He was dressed much like many other travellers, Jawas and hermits throughout the galaxy, thinking he was simply I homeless bum, a security guard tried to turn him out, quite violently in fact.
Snap–hiss.
The guard fell back as an emerald blade sliced through is breast and flash fired his heart.
Shouts of terror. Intermittent Blaster fire and the ever present thrum and hum of the lightsaber. No more than thirty–five seconds after he walked in to the building, the man’s sand coloured cloak swished to a halt around him as he entered an elevated. He punched the button for the top floor. It beep at him, asking for a pass code, biting back his annoyed snarl, the Jedi waved his hand and got an buurt of acceptance from the damned thing.
The lift rose quickly, the lift rose to destiny. The back–stabbing power-besotted bastard was going to pay for what he had done, even if Jedi Knight Fabian Carter had to die in the doing of it.
The lift rose and rose and then it stopped. The door opened to reveal a mutely lit corridor and two security guards, struggling to bring blasters before being smashed against the walls by a telekinetic push of skull fracturing proportions.
He stalked quickly down the hallway, he would be here, he had to be here, looking at designs for his precious Ion fighters.
Double door damn near blew off their hinges as the Jedi entered the cushy main office. Two men were inside. One was a plump man in an expensive suit; the other was the traitor still dressed in his dark cloak and armour that he had favoured near the end of the wars. That he had favoured when he went out to murder children and defenceless young who knew and trusted him.
“Turn traitor, turn and die Ani.” And with out further ado the Jedi ignited his blade and slashed at Vader: who moved surprising fast for a crippled giant. Vader rolled away avoiding the slash and igniting his blade, it was now the blood–red of a Sith, the same colour has most of the blood the man had split.
“That name has no meaning for me. Jedi Carter.”
The battle of wills was short and savage; Vader fought like a construction droid, with sheer force. Battering the Jedi with over head blows seemingly meant to smash Carter down a few floors.
The Jedi was fighting with quiet competence and was as fluid as running as he struck three precise blows, knee chest and head. Each strike was blocked in turn. The Jedi used the power of Vader’s last block to spin a full circle and slash Vader’s knee. The green blade impacted the high–density armour in a shower of sparks, Vader collapsed but the armour saved his leg. As he fell Vader stabbed out accomplishing nought but a similar glancing blow to his wrist, which his ‘sabre spinning off into the shadows of the wrecked office.
The green blade levelled at the dark giant’s throat.
“Before I sent you to burn in all the hells the ever were, tell me. Why? Why kill the innocent? Why slaughter your comrades? The people who raised and cherished you?” Snarled Fabian.
The words awoke the fire in the black heart of the black. He carefully pro–nouced one word:
“No” before unleashing all the rage and pain of his heart in one terrifying powerful force wave. The Jedi was thrown across the room and smashed into the large transparisteel window. Massive cracks snaked out from the impact point creating a weird spider design throughout the window. Fabian crumbled to the floor barely conscious.
The dark titan was on his feet again, his lightsabre called to his hand. Despite the injury to his knee his pace was steady measured. His breathing hardly laboured above his norm his words rang out.
“No. The Jedi did not raise me. My mother did.”
He was standing above Carter now the blade igniting in his hand was the exact same shade of red as the pool of children’s blood he had created.
“And because of the Jedi, my mother is dead.”
And with those words Fabian’s world went red.
Fini? or TBC only time will tell.
***
Comments Please? Crap? Good? Vomit-inducing?
EDIT: Added Disclaimer.
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