The Rebel Faction

A light breeze rustled the foliage of a small forest on Naboo, a few leaves drifting down to the earth below. The sun was just peeking over the horizon, its rays bathing the land in a red glow. Most inhabitants of Naboo were still sound asleep, dreaming what dreams they would.

Sleeping songbirds shifted in the branches as a young man quietly made his way through the undergrowth, down an old path that the forest had begun to reclaim for its own. He seemed to be in no hurry, carefully deliberate with his every step, his eyes scanning the horizon in front of him, as though silently taking in all that the scene had to offer.

Clothed in a somewhat tattered brown cloak, with a tan jumpsuit on underneath, he carried nothing else; a hook on his belt was glaringly bare, and as he continued onward, his hand drifted there, then moved away, as though from some old habit.

Months before, this young man had set out on a journey, a journey to try and find himself- to try and deal with the way the life he'd known had been shattered within a few short weeks.

Those long months, he'd traveled back to the planet that was his birthplace, the planet blazing of twin suns and baking heat, blinding sand and a great deal of scum and villains from various places in the galaxy.

Unknowingly, he'd followed in the footsteps of a great Jedi-Master long dead before his time; the young man made his home in what was little more than a cave furnished with a sleeping mat and only equipment that was essential for life on such a planet. In this humble abode, he'd lived as a veritable hermit for over half a year.

From time to time, he went into the nearest town; he told himself it was to buy or trade for supplies that he needed, but in truth, it was for the human contact. It as because he needed that contact, though it was little more than a curse thrown in his direction, or a pick-pocket's vain attempt to pilfer what few items of value he possessed. Even without a weapon, he still caused these petty thieves to walk (or limp) away empty-handed. He'd watch them go, his hand on his empty belt once more, his expression hard to read. Then he turned, and continued on his way.

Such was the young man's existence until he realized that he could gain nothing by such an isolated existence- he wasn't ready to settle down, not yet. A part of him knew he still had a purpose, a duty to fulfill, and it was that part of him that led him to sell or pack his belongings and take the next starship to Naboo.

He stepped out of the forest, and saw a cottage in front of him; it seemed to be slightly weather-worn, as though the occupant had not been there to keep up with repairs for some time. But it was still in good shape, and the corners of the young man's lips turned up slightly, in a smile.

"Home sweet home." Kahn murmered, his words little more than a whisper

Kahn's home was, on the surface, precisely as he'd left it. A fine layer of dust covered most of the furniture, and he went through each room, checking to see if there was any disturbance during his absence.

When he got to his bedroom, he immidiately noticed a lightsaber on the bed, the lightsaber Amalia had taken from him during their last encounter. He'd been without it for months, and he approached it slowly now, lifting it and gripping it with his hand, the cool metal feeling good against his palm.

A hum filled the air as he brought the blue blade to life, taking a few experimental swings with it, as though becoming reacquainted with an old friend. He wasn't sure what it meant, that Amalia left the saber for him- whether it was a sign of hope, or one that she was leaving her life in the Light entirely behind her. Only time would tell. He clipped the saber to his belt, after deactivating it, in better spirits now.

He stepped outside, propping the door open to refresh the stale air. Taking a deep breath, he silently surveyed the landscape in front of him. By now, the sun was up, and it shone brightly, its rays providing warmth and a sense of comfort, unlike Tatooine's twin suns, which kept the planet in a barren, desert-like state.

Kahn could sense beings awakening slowly, the sensation of many minor shifts in the Force around him serving as well as any of his other senses, if not better.

He was also alerted to the presence of another Force-user in the area; the mind-signatures of Force-sensative beings always seemed as shining beacons of light in his mind's eye, when compared to other 'normal' beings of the universe.

Curious, and subconciously needing to reestablish his presence among the many inhabitants of Naboo, he walked along the small forest for a few minutes, staying on the perimeter, honing in on the persona he felt through the Force.

His eyebrow arched slightly in surprise when he came upon a young man, apparently asleep, at the foot of a tree. A quick check with the Force proved that this was indeed the person he had been seeking. Studying him closer, Kahn recalled the man as Kamon, a fellow Jedi, though beyond that his memory was hazy.

Not wishing to awaken the man, Kahn turned his attention to the berries nearby the slumbering Jedi. He recognized them for their sleep-inducing qualities, and quickly put two and two together. The ghost of a smile appeared on his features; shortly after moving into his home on the edge of the forest, he had experimented with the fruit as well, suffering a similar consequence. The next thing he knew, Hanna was lightly shaking his shoulder, and her gentle laughter had filled the air, the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard.

The smile faded, and Kahn turned to go, letting the berries fall from his hand. Perhaps part of the reason he'd left the planet was because it contained so many memories- so did Tatooine, but at least he could tell himself he'd faced those demons already- here, the pain was still very fresh.

OOC: Apologies if this intrusion is unwanted. Also, let it be noted that I am Zark Ekan both OOCly and ICly. Long story. Kamon, who I had met recently on his birthday ICly knows this, but Kahn, who I am assuming I have met before, if not through a RP then definitely ICly at least since we had the same Master (Amalia), may refer to me as Zark at first and even continue to if he so wishes.

IC:

There. Wait, yes. There! Arix had felt the familiar Force presence for the second time today. He could not tell who it was exactly, every Force presence had become very foggy since the...incident. Arix hated to even think about it, even though it had helped him get in touch with who he really was.

His current life wasn't much better, and that horrible fact sickened the Rogue Jedi. After the mysterious fall of the Jedi Praxeum, Arix had once again become an outcast to society. While he was never offically segregated by anyone else, nothing about life near population centers felt right anymore.

Finally, Arix had given up on society and retreated to the seclusion of the Naboo forests. He wandered them, never straying closer than the fringe of cities. He had been spotted occasionally near Theed, pausing to take in the memories, both good and bad. The citizens had actually created a legend around him, for he was cloaked and hooded wherever he went, and gave of a mystical-like appearance.

The legend said he was the ghost of a Jedi, betrayed by his own people, and ultimately murdered. This rumor had, of course, been created by anti-Jedi activists. He had been redeemed in the eyes of pro-Jedis somewhat when the explanation of his "hauntings" had been added on. It was said that despite the betrayal, Arix had chosen to walk the mortal realm, doomed to forever watch over the city of Theed. The anti-Jedis had often been heard saying "or to prevent those who had wronged him from doing the same again."

Contemplating the legend now, Arix smirked at the similarities between his true life and the legend. Well, beside the whole murder and ghost thing. In a way, he had been betrayed by his own kind...no, he didn't want to think about it anymore. The smirk had faded from his grizzled face, replaced by an expression of pain.

Arix was thrown from his dreams as his "Force alarm" went off, and the familiar, yet unknown presense was joined by a very familiar one. Kamon Vondiranach, Rogue Jedi Master once of the Jedi Praxeum. They had reaquainted themselves shortly after the...incident, on Kamon's birthday.

With all of the contemplation making him desperate once again for social contact, he slowly made his way towards the presenses. Luckily, they were not far. No more than half a mile. In fact, Arix probably would have been able to see them from where he walked if it was not for the dense foliage.

Trudging toward them, his walking staff leading the way, he would be there in no more than five minutes.

Kamon nodded.

"Yeah that's me. It's been a long time since we've talked Kahn. People were wondering where you'd gotten off to. It's been ages since anyones seen you. Where have you been?"

Kamon felt Arix approaching but didn't say anything yet. He felt strange vibes coming through the Force from Arix and he knew something was seriously wrong with his peer. He didn't look behind him, but when he got close he spoke.

"Good day, Arix. I sense you are troubled. What's wrong?"

OOC: KAHN!!!! i can't believe your back. Great to see ya man. And no worries, i wont be fighting in this thread. Probably if Kahn finds Malice they will just talk.

IC: Theed, the capital city of Naboo. One of the most famous, and maybe even infamous cities in the universe. Sitting in one of it's countless pubs, or taverns. Whichever you prefered, a figure was getting plastered.

It was Malice, the white robed sith master from TNSO. On occasions he would leave the order, go off on his own and drink someplace. Forgetting, for even just a small moment that he was a sith. Or that his mortal enemy the jedi lived on this planet. Or that the force even exsisted.

Though lately he had been escaping realty like this and just putting everything to the side. Malice had changed over the years. His goals, and visions altered as he went. Till the point came when he just didn't care anymore.

His life had had many hardships. Wether he had any good times, that he can't remember. Of course being a sith didn't exactly allow you to have much fun in yourlife.

Taking his 6 or 7 mug of beer, Malice chugged it down all at once. Breathing in heavily as he slammed the mug back onto the bar counter.

*Bartender, give me two more*

The bartender hesitated for a moment, not one to allow any being to get too drunk in his pub. However, the menacing look he had recieved from the dark being told him to think otherwise. By now, Malice was oblivious to what was happening around him. A few fights had already broken out in the bar that he had no interest of taking part in.