MOTF Book I: BOTE Chapter 27

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MOTF Book I: BOTE Chapter 27

Post by Emperordmb on Mon Feb 23, 2015 3:10 am

Arthur sat in a passenger seat of the Jedi shuttle next to Jaira. Flying through hyperspace on the way to Coruscant and the Jedi Temple. On the way to the beginning of their new lives as Jedi, the protectors of the Galaxy.

“That was a beautiful speech Arthur,” Jaira said, smiling.

Arthur smiled back at her. Master Mongooku had told him that he could appoint whoever was to be the next King of the Lightor. Arthur had taken things a step further. Before their departure, Arthur had given a speech. He expressed the melancholy with which he left Innamorta to become a Jedi, and instead of beginning another royal family, he instead created a democracy, telling the people that the choice of who ruled them should be in their own hands, trusting them to choose what was best for themselves. And then, he, Jaira, Grand Master Mongooku, and Master Skyna had departed.

“Thank you,” Arthur replied, confident that he had done the right thing. Some things he was confident in, and other things he wasn’t, such as the prophecy the venerable Grand Master had told him of. How could he save the Galaxy? Mongooku had told him not to dwell on that yet, but Arthur couldn’t help but feel both honored and weighed down by such a burden.

It was then that Master Mongooku walked into the passenger seating area. “Initiates,” Mongooku began with a warm smile. “It is time for a lesson.”

Arthur and Jaira stood up and walked over to him. “What would you have us do Master?” Arthur asked, eager to learn as much as he could about the Force.

“Kneel on the ground,” Master Mongooku said. Both Arthur and Jaira dropped to their knees. “Now close your eyes and focus.”

Arthur closed his eyes and began to focus, on what he did not know. He knew Jaira was sitting next to him doing the exact same thing.

“The Force is all around us,” Mongooku said. “Can you feel it?”

Arthur concentrated and focused, but he felt nothing. “No master,” he replied.

“Neither do I,” Jaira responded next to him.

“Relax,” Mongooku said in a soothing voice. “Take a deep breath. Clear your mind.”

Arthur felt his tensed up body relax as he drew in a long breath of air, then he pushed the thoughts in his head to the side. Soon he felt perfectly calm and centered

“Hear the Force speak to you,” Mongooku said. “Do not try to control it, only try to control yourself. Keep your own will at bay, and let the Force flow through your thoughts.”

It was then that Arthur felt it. It was a serenity he had never known. It was a voice that spoke in his mind, but with no words, only song, resonating through his head in a melodious hum. It was a glow that filled his sight. It was a warmth he could feel beneath his skin, coursing through the very fiber of his being. It was the Force.

“Good,” Mongooku said, his voice filled with approval. “Now focus on that feeling with all of your will. Make it the center and focus of your very world. Concentrate and draw the Force into you as you would draw breath.”

Arthur focused and concentrated on that feeling as hard as he could, and he began to feel himself. He felt the vibrance of life within his body. He felt the blood coursing through his veins, and heard his heart beating slowly but purposefully. He could hear each molecule of air scrape against the molecule next to it as they were sucked into his lungs. He could feel the balance of his own body as it sat perched upon his knees. But most of all, he felt the calm serene focus, only this time it was stronger, more comforting, and more soothing. Each of these functions he felt inside of his own body and mind was necessary and essential, Arthur realized. They were a part of him. The Force was a part of him.

“I can… feel the Force within me,” Jaira gasped in astonishment next to him.

“Yes…” Mongooku said calmly. “The focus you two have is incredible. But the Force is all around us, not just within us. Push outwards with the Force, extend your senses. Feel the currents of your thought and Force presence stretch outwards.”

Arthur pushed outwards, and felt the air exiting his lungs swirl in front of him. He felt the ship around him vibrating and humming as it soared through space. He could also feel the presences around them. He could feel Jaira’s presence brushing against his. Hers glowed softly, like the dew upon a flower as the morning’s daylight shone upon him. It felt warm, reassuring and familiar. Somehow, he was very used to it. He playfully brushed back against her presence with his own.

Then, he extended his presence further and felt Mongooku’s presence. Where Jaira’s presence was a soft glow, the Grand Master’s was an almost blinding beacon of pure light, rays of which palpitated from the center of his very being surging forth from his core, and emanating into the Force around him. Arthur also felt the presence of the Jedi ace piloting the shuttle, Master Skyna, it too shown brightly, though it paled in comparison with Mongooku’s.

Then, as Arthur extended his senses outward, he felt another presence. Another? Who else was on board? He continued to extend his senses, but this time instead of an omnidirectional expansion, he focused on the presence, quickly ascertaining that it was within the cargo hold. It felt sad and scared, but there was a certain courage to it Arthur could not quite make sense of.

“Somebody else is on board!” Jaira cried out. “Somebody in the cargo hold!” Both Arthur and Jaira leapt to their feet in front of the Grand Master.

“Who are they?” Arthur asked.

“A stowaway,” Mongooku said. “I’ve known he was here since the moment we boarded the ship.”

“And you said nothing?!” Arthur asked incredulously.

“Had I said something, I would’ve missed an opportunity to teach you a valuable lesson in the ways of the Force,” Mongooku explained. “Let this be your second lesson of the day. When you are a Jedi, everything is a lesson. You just have to be openminded enough to hear it. The Force and the Galaxy are all around it, and to understand it, we must be ready to pay attention to it and gleam knowledge from it. Even the tiniest, seemingly most insignificant details around you can teach valuable lessons. You would be wise to pay attention to them.”

“We should go see who they are and what they want,” Jaira interjected.

“Yes,” Mongooku replied. “That would be best.”

As Skyna stayed behind in the cockpit, Arthur, Jaira, and Mongooku made their way to the cargo hold. As they entered, they saw a figure hiding behind a few crates. Mongooku whipped out his Lightsaber in one hand, activating it and illuminating the room with a blue glow. The other hand, Mongooku waved casually to the side, sending the crates tumbling away across the floor of the ship. The barrier of crates obstructing their view gone, Arthur was finally able to get a good look at their stowaway. It was a boy around the same age as them, with dark hair and brown eyes. Arthur recognized him. He was at Dylan’s Birthday party!

“Who are you?” Mongooku asked.

“I- I am Terro,” the boy timidly replied.

“What is the prince of the Speartons doing aboard a Jedi cruiser?!” Mongooku demanded.

“Running away,” the boy sighed, his voice filled with sorrow. “The Sith told me that I was strong in the Force,” he explained. “They asked me to join them. At first I refused, but they wouldn’t stop asking. I agreed to join them. There was nothing else I could do.”

“And what happened next?” Mongooku asked. Arthur could see the Grand Master’s eyebrows furrowing in concentration as he listened to Terro’s story.

“I didn’t want to become one of them,” Terro explained, a tone of horror and revulsion in his voice. “They are evil monsters. I saw my chance and I took it. When nobody was looking. I ran away. I knew I wouldn’t be safe with my people as long as the Sith were allied with them. I had nowhere else to run. I thought you could protect me.”

“How can we trust him,” Arthur asked, turning to Mongooku. For all Arthur knew, this boy was here to avenge Dylan.

Mongooku closed his eyes, and extended a hand in the direction of the boy. After a few seconds, Mongooku opened his eyes and turned towards Arthur. “I sense no deception or malevolence in him. Only fear, and hope. He is telling the truth.”

Mongooku turned back to the boy. “Do you wish to become a Jedi and learn the ways of the Light Side of the Force.”

Terro was silent for a moment, pondering the decision before him for a few seconds, before giving his answer. “Yes.”

“You understand that if you do this, your people will see you as a traitor?” Mongooku asked.

“I do,” Terro replied sadly. “Better to be a traitor than a Sith. If you allow it, I will join the Jedi Order.”

Arthur was unsure of whether or not to trust this boy, but in the end, he decided to trust the Grand Master’s judgement.

“Very well,” Mongooku said. “You will accompany us to the Jedi temple, and you will train with Arthur and Jaira to become a Jedi Knight, a protector and defender of the Galaxy.


It was about midday when they reached Coruscant and the Jedi temple. The entire surface of Coruscant was covered with skyscrapers, taller than Arthur ever imagined a building could be. People flooded the streets, more than Arthur had ever seen in his entire life. Arthur found the sight breath taking, though not as much as the Jedi Temple itself.

Encased within green pyramids of transparisteel, the walls and floors of the Jedi temple were ornate and aged, though not weak. There was an ancient aspect to them, though at the same time they seemed strong and resolute. The bronzium statues of ancient Jedi stood tall, looming over Arthur and his companions like ancient protectors. There was a certain beauty to the architecture that Arthur could only begin to appreciate. It was perhaps the most impressive thing Arthur had ever laid his eyes upon.

The beauty of the Jedi Temple was not just in its visual appearance however. Arthur could feel it. A great power resonating from the core of the temple, surging through the entire mountain sized complex like a river of light. It was calming, refreshing, soothing and invigorating all at the same time. It was the Light Side of the Force, Arthur realized. Whether or not the presence of the Light was due to the fact that the Jedi had made their home there, or if the Jedi had made their home there because of the presence of the Light, Arthur could not say, but he suspected the true answer was somewhere in the middle.

As they had walked through the Jedi Temple, Arthur saw the gleam in Jaira’s eyes as she took in the view, and he saw Terro’s mouth agape as he stared at the majesty around him. At first, Arthur had been distrustful, and even a little bit cold shouldered towards the Spearton boy, but over the past few hours, he had slowly begun to warm up to him. He had used to believe the Innamortan warrior races were little more than barbarous violent fools, taking almost orgasmic pleasure in the shedding of blood. Terro truly surprised him, though Arthur supposed he was the only non-Lightor Innamortan he had truly taken the time to actually interact with in a way that did not involve them trying to kill each other. Though Terro did not seem overly intelligent, Arthur felt his heart was in the right place, and for the first time in his life, that was good enough for him.

Now Arthur, Jaira, and Terro were in the Council chambers, atop one of the five great spires that protruded from the Temple ziggurat. Surrounding them were a dozen Jedi Masters, members of the High Jedi Council. Among them were Grand Master Mongooku, and the Jedi Ace Skyna.

“These are the three children I told you about over the holotransmission,” Mongooku said to the rest of the council as he opened his arms outward, a warm and inviting gesture.

“And you believe that Arthur is the child of the prophecy?” A humanoid clad in purple robes with pale skin and silvery hair asked.

“There is no doubt in my mind Master Ilu,” Mongooku replied. “The blood sample I took revealed a midi-chlorian count of over twenty thousand per cell.” At that statement, a look of shock and awe spread across the faces of every councilor in the room. “And I have felt the Force within him,” Mongooku continued. “It lays mostly dormant, but with the proper training, he has the potential to become a greater Jedi than any of us could ever hope to be. As such, I am taking it upon myself to personally train him in the Jedi Arts”

Arthur’s eyes went wide with astonishment as he looked into the differently colored eyes of the grand master.

“I am henceforth taking Arthur of the Lightor, as my Padawan learner.” Mongooku announced.

“And what of the others,” a pink haired female Zabrak asked. “Why have they been brought before us?”

“Because Master Nalaniel, they are all extraordinarily strong in the Force, and they are potentially dangerous,” Mongooku answered, his voice calm. “They come from a planet long divided by war, and they have all undergone great suffering to choose this path.” The councilors began to glance at each other with looks of concern and curiosity.

“I will train Arthur,” Mongooku continued. “But the training of Jaira and Terro is something I would trust to only the esteemed members of the High Jedi Council. I am not forcing any of you to take them on as your padawans. The choice must be yours.”

There was a brief silence spread across the room for a few seconds, before Master Ilu stepped forward. “I will take Terro as my Padawan learner,” he announced. “He comes from a warrior culture, and that makes him dangerous. If anybody can train him to reconcile his enthusiasm for conflict with the serenity of the Jedi way and the Light Side of the Force, I can. And I will be all too eager to hear of a new warrior culture I was previously unfamiliar with. Who knows, maybe there’s a thing or two he can teach me.”

“Thank you Master,” Terro said, a smile crossing his face.

“And I will train Jaira,” Master Nalaniel said stepping forward. “I sense she is very strong in the Light Side, and can feel her proclivity for understanding nature and cherishing knowledge. As a Sage Master, there is much I can teach her about the intricacies of the Force.”

Jaira turned towards Master Nalaniel and bowed. “I am honored to be selected as your Padawan.”

And like that, the three Innamortans were inducted into the Jedi Order as Padawans, each with a great master to guide them along the paths of their new lives…


Korriban… the birthplace of the Sith. It was a desolate planet, its surface made up of deserts and rocky terrain. Based on its appearance, it seemed an odd place for the Sith to make their capital world, but as Dylan knew from his studies, the history of the Sith had roots here dating back thousands and thousands of years. It would make sense why the Sith would be drawn to it, but it was not only that.

Beyond its desolate appearance, Dylan could sense something far greater, for as he knew, appearances could be deceiving. Beneath Korriban’s poised physical appearance, Dylan could sense a great power festering at its heart. The Dark Side of the Force was strong here. It was a cold whisper that called out to Dylan. He imagined a Jedi would find it repulsive, but he felt it invigorating. This was where he and his friends would be trained to wield the Dark Side. This place was the first destination on his path to power. This place was his part of his destiny, and he would embrace it as eagerly as he embraced the training that came along with it. A few days ago, he was a boy. Now he was a Sith.

When they had first arrived on Korriban, Dylan had stared in awe at the ancient looking temples carved from stone, wondering what power and secrets they held in store. The ground beneath him when he had first landed felt sturdier than any ground under his feet had ever felt before. But it was not something within Korriban that was the explanation, it was something within himself. With every step Dylan took, he knew he was a step closer to attaining the power he had spent the past several hours of his life dreaming of.

He knew that Korriban would be a competitive environment for the Sith seeking to make a name for themselves, but he was not overly worried. Unlike most new recruits, Dylan had plenty of combat experience and the superhuman physical strength that came with Innamortan physiology. He also had his friends, Shorya, Tormax, and Fernin, all of whom boasted similar advantages. Between the four of them, Dylan was certain that they could handle whatever challenges the other apprentices threw their way. But more than this, Dylan was confident in his own strength, in his own potential.

Darth Vanquil had told him the Force was strong in him, and based on his conversations with his friends, they had all been told that their natural strength and potential in the force was greater than what was seen in most apprentices born or inducted into the Sith Order. But Dylan knew his power was greater. He had seen and heard of great feats from each of his friends, but none of them had achieved quite what he had. Dylan had survived a blast from Arthur’s APC against all odds. Dylan had stopped the charge of a Mech suit without physically touching it. Dylan had torn apart a man’s body with just the raw power of his fury. By the time he had caught up in his training, none of the other apprentices would be his equal.

But it was not the training centers of Korriban where Dylan and his friends now stood, it was a place in one of the darkest, most intimidating temples on Korriban. They were standing in what appeared to be a throne room, escorted by two Sith Lords who had been on the shuttle. Curiously enough, Darth Vanquil was not with them. He had parted ways with them as soon as they had exited the ship.

The throne room itself was large and intimidating. The walls were made of a cracked ebony stone, though again, Dylan could sense the power of the Dark Side emanating from them. Despite their cracked appearances, Dylan assumed it would take more than a few explosives to bring any of them down. Running through the center of the room was a blood red carpet, in fact, the texture and color were so accurate, Dylan could not help but wonder whether or not it was actually stained in the blood of red blooded species. The thought sent a chill down his spine.

At the end of the red carpet sat a throne, made of black obsidian, the edges and corners twisted and jagged, the texture seemingly rough and uneven. The throne itself was an intimidating sight to behold on its own, but it was not the throne that drew Dylan’s eye, so much as the man in the throne.

The man sitting in the throne was clad in midnight black robes over dark gray plates of armor. A black handled lightsaber hung at his belt, and on both of his hands, he wore dark gloves. A silvery chain crossed his chest, just below his neck, bridging the gap between the silver shoulder armor and his left and right shoulder respectively. The short hair on his head had likely once been as black as his robes, but age had sucked most of the color out of it, leaving behind a dark gray. His bangs were jagged and uneven. Surrounding his mouth was a pointed beard.

But what drew Dylan’s attention the most, were his eyes. One was blazing red, the color of human blood sharpened into a focused, hateful stare. The other eye glowed a sulfuric yellow, staring through whatever fell within its line of sight with a gaze of pure malice and malevolence. The irises of each eye were rimmed in the color of the other. Each eye served as an inversion of the other, but both seemed just as equally menacing and twisted as could possibly be.

Dylan could feel the Dark Side emanating from this man in palpable waves, seeking every crack and crevice it could find to bury into. Unlike the darkness Dylan had felt seeping out of the sands and rocks of Korriban, this darkness did not feel invigorating or exciting. Instead it felt cold and discomforting. An unpleasant prickling plagued Dylan’s skin as he stood before this man. He felt uneasy, almost fearful as the man’s gaze bore through him, and when he took a quick glance at his friends faces, he knew they felt the same way. Even the two Lords escorting them looked immensely offset and uncomfortable by the man’s presence.

“So…” the man began to speak, his voice carrying a menacing chill. “These are the… apprentices you have managed to attain from the Innamortan warrior nations?”

“Yes, my lord,” one of the two Sith said, as they both began to kneel.

Fearing what would happen if he didn’t follow suit, Dylan dropped to his knees as well, as did his friends. The man’s presence continued to agitate him, but rather than quiver beneath it, Dylan let that presence fuel his discomfort. He reached out into the very darkness of his own mind. He called upon his anger and his hatred, and pulled it forth. Suddenly, his gaze sharpened as he stared at the ground, his head bowed before the man.

“The Force… is unusually strong with them,” the man said. Out of his peripheral vision, Dylan could see the man’s gaze sweeping through the group, and stopping on him for a few seconds. Dylan could feel the man’s gaze boring through him. Then, the man lifted his gaze, and turned his attention towards the two Sith Lords on either side of the group.

“Take them to the Prime Academy for training,” the man said menacingly, after a short but uncomfortable silence.

“But my lord!” one of the Sith replied. “They’ve never received any training in the ways of the Force! We never send any untrained apprentices to the Prime Academy!”

Dylan looked up and watched as the man’s eyelids closed for a second, only to reopen, unveiling a hateful glare, directed at the Sith who had spoken. Suddenly, the Sith Lord who had spoken out staggered back, his hands flying up to his neck as the other Lord looked on in horror.

“Do… Not… Ever…” the man began to speak, slowly and purposefully, his voice trembling and shaking with barely contained fury. “Question… My… Orders!” The Sith Lord’s hands were clawing at his throat, his eyes beginning to roll back in his head.

“I have been told that each of these untrained apprentices possesses extraordinary physical strength, as well as battlefield experience and hundreds of combat kills,” the man explained, his voice still shaking with rage. The Sith Lord continued to desperately claw for breath, but none was found. “With their strength in the Force… I expect them to thrive at the prime academy. If they do not, they are unworthy to be Sith.”

The man’s gaze turned towards Dylan, Shorya, Fernin, and Tormax. “Let this be your first lesson, apprentices…” he said coldly, his eyes blazing with fury. “The Dark Side has no time for the weak… or the ignorant!” As he spoke those last few words, Dylan heard a sickening crunch of bone breaking as the Sith Lord’s head snapped back, his neck crushed, before his body was slammed into the ground beneath him, shattering his bones, and crushing his internal organs to pulp.

“And there is nothing more ignorant… than crossing me!” he hissed, his voice trembling with power and purpose. “I am Darth Odious! Dark Lord of the Sith! To cross me is to stab a knife through your own heart and twist it. If you are to survive… you would do well to remember that.”

The Dark Lord’s gaze suddenly flew up to meet the eyes of the terrified Sith Lord standing to the side of Dylan and his friends. “Take them to the Prime Academy,” Odious ordered, his tone of voice resolute and unyielding. While the anger in his voice had disappeared as suddenly as it had begun, there was an implied threat in his words. Bowing one last time, the Sith Lord turned, and led Dylan and his friends out of the throne room.

Dylan smiled with ambition and anticipation as he, Shorya, Tormax, and Fernin stepped out onto the sands of Korriban and began  the long walk towards the Prime Academy. The four Innamortans had just been inducted into the ranks of the Sith Order as apprentices, and as they walked off towards the academy at which they would train to wield the Dark Side, they realized their lives would never be the same again, and wondered what power they would eventually learn to wield…


In the netherworld of the force, a blinding-white gryphon and a night-black gargoyle cried out at each other in challenge, the blazing red stare of one meeting the brilliant green gaze of the other, and both realized that the heirs to their power were in motion. Seeking their destinies. Learning the ways of the Force…

On a planet deep within the heart of the Galaxy, a tentacle materialized out of thin air. It curled, twisted, and trembled in orgasmic excitement, enjoying the conflict and Chaos of the war that was about to be escalated. Then, just as inexplicably as it had appeared, the tentacle dissolved into thin air…

The specter of an old man frowned in sadness and in sorrow, worried that the entire work of his unfathomably long life had been in vain…

Four newly christened Sith Apprentices, and three newly selected Jedi Padawans, sought their destinies. They could only begin to imagine the power they would one day wield. In time, they would become masters of the Force…

Forces were in motion, the Light and the Dark. The state of the Force so often teetered between Balance and Chaos. The war between opposing alignments of the Force was slipping into its final stretch. This was the beginning. This was the Beginning of the End…

High King Droogie

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