Hey everyone! UCCMaster here!
This is a repost of a fic I posted in a crossover between SWTOR Star Wars Rebels, however, someone pointed out that since so few people actually read crossovers, that I should post it here as well. So I hope you enjoy the first chapter of The Tythos. I do not own Bioware and Disney.
Jedi Temple, Tython
The Jedi Temple was different. It looked statelier, yet an air of gloom hung over it. It was easy to tell, with the dark skies loomed ahead; a sense of fear and hatred grew around the temple, quickly enveloping it in darkness. There was action happening on the main entrance. A black robed figure wearing the black robes marched up the grand steps. He had hatred exhuming from him and deep yellow eyes. Following him were white clad soldiers, pitch black T-slit visors hiding their faces.
Soon after flames began to envelope the temple and screams of agony quickly began to ring from the once peaceful building. Inside bodies of Jedi young and old littered the ground. There was no mercy as the black robed man cut down everyone in sight with a blue lightsaber. But watching from the shadows, a man watched and smiled. This man wore a black armored tank with matching black pants. But most interestingly, he had tattooed on his shoulder a Mandalorian mask. Surrounding him, several other figures from all races of life, both young and old, watched on. They wore different clothing, marking them as people who you would never imagine being associated to each other. Some wore the stately gowns of Senators and galactic leaders. Others wore crisp grew military uniforms. Several were bounty hunters and smugglers. A few were mere schoolchildren. There was a grocer, several business men, and even a few Jedi. But one thing mark them all, they all had the same tattoo on their bodies. The Mandalorian mask
He grinned and chuckled lightly. "At last, after three thousand years, the Jedi have fallen to their knees. Soon, the time will come for our great master to return to the galaxy; Lord Revan."
Satele Shan jerked out of her bed. It had only been a dream, yet it had seemed so real. She pulled on her robes and entered the meditation room, crossed her legs, and let her mind drift off.
She recalled that the Force often spoke through such visions. Was this horror to become a reality? It couldn't be. After all, it had only been two months ago when she had returned from a startling trip to Yavin IV, where she and Darth Marr had put aside their differences to end the Revanite revolt. Teamed up with her son Theron, Lord Lana, and finally, a team of the greatest heroes of the Republic and Sith, the group led a coalition force against the Revanites and eventually defeated Revan himself. How would it be possible for the Revanites to still exist?
"Master Satele? What are you doing here?"
She jerked around suddenly to see Master Keith Grell, the Bar'sen'thor. He had participated in battle first on Rishi then Yavin. The young man strolled over to her and took up a similar position. "You had the vision as well?" He queried.
Satele nodded. "It doesn't make sense. Revan's gone. The Revanites have been disbanded. Why would they return?"
"Perhaps you failed to notice the first clue. The man mentioned a return after three thousand years. This would mean that the Revanites will need three millennia to rebuild. The Force has given us a huge forewarning in advance. This will not happen in our generation, but rather in the lives of others. Did you notice the Jedi Temple on Coruscant rebuilt. Currently, we have just begun rebuilding the temple. It will take over ten years for us to fully restore it to its ancient beauty."
"But one thing is clear. Don't trust the Republic." A new voice interjected.
Satele fought the urge to jerk her head to the newcomer, but remained calm. "Ah, Master Carsen, it is a pleasure for you to join us." Grell smiled. "Please take a seat with us."
Maxwell Carsen, the Hero of Tython, shook his head. "No thanks. I've never been good at keeping still. I'll just hang around here."
Satele cracked a smile. Somehow the heroic Master Carsen had a reputation of falling asleep during council meetings, pulling off crazy stunts, and encouraging Padawans to "ditch the slowpokes and enjoy life". Thus he couldn't sit still during meditation and had she not seen his other side, she would never have guessed that he was the one who took down the Emperor. But once the fighting got started, he would suddenly switch from the fun, easy going, young man to the serious, battle hardened, awe inspiring Jedi Battlemaster.
"You saw those soldiers with the Sith; they were Republic troopers, probably different in the future, but nonetheless, the Republic had betrayed the Jedi Order." He blatantly put.
"Then what do you suggest we do, Master Carsen." Keith inquired, his voice not changing at all.
"Simple, we break away. There has always been debate on whether or not the Jedi Order really serves the Republic. So we make it official. The Jedi Order is allied with the Republic, but doesn't take orders from them. It gives us the ability to act on our own discretion."
Satele toppled over in shock. "You don't mean that the Jedi Order, dedicated to protecting the Republic and its people, should defect?"
"Rather Master, Carsen has a point." Keith pointed out. "Being independent gives us a certain amount of freedom. We police ourselves. The Republic can ask for our assistance, but if we feel that the mission goes against what we stand for, we can simply refuse until we reach more favorable terms."
"But what of our relations with the Republic? What will that do?" Satele protested.
There was a silence that loomed over the room. "Perhaps," Maxwell suggested. "We could start up a secret Jedi army. We're leaving Tython soon to return to the Coruscant, but what if not all of us left. The Republic is under impression that we're just abandoning Tython; however, we instead would leave a self-sufficient Jedi army here. They build up forces for the next three thousand years, and by then we would have quite a large number of Jedi by then. This secret 'order' would be dedicated to fighting off the Revanites whenever they appear. And the Republic wouldn't be aware of this Jedi army until we've finished off the Revanites for good. That way they couldn't be betrayed because they don't exist."
Keith scratched his goatee thoughtfully. "I like the idea of a secret Jedi army. We could call it the Tythos Order."
"But who would we choose?"
"Simple, I would." Carsen volunteered. "Kira and I did want to raise our child ourselves, outside the influence of others."
"Hold on! You have a child?" Satele interjected. "When did this happen?"
"Well we started trying for one after we first met Theron. Kira took his existence as a green light for kids. She's now three months pregnant!" He smiled.
Satele groaned in dismay. "Oh by the Force! Everything bad happens because of me. What's next? Grell's got a kid too?"
Grell let out a slowly guilty chuckle. Satele gasped at him, horrified. "You too?"
He nodded and pulled out a small holo projector. It revealed an image of Nadia, him, and a small infant in their arms. "Jannia is three years old. She loves having piggy back rides from Qyzen."
Carsen smiled. "It's decided then. All Jedi who publicly or secretly are having a relationship will stay here. We'll start a huge family that will sustain us into the future."
Three weeks later, after much debate, Satele found herself standing aboard the last shuttle leaving Tython. The Grandmaster watched the small number of Jedi and civilians who remained on the planet, dedicating themselves to colonizing it and initiating the Tythos Order. She silently prayed this plan would work out and when the Jedi Order needed them most, they would return to save the galaxy.
Imperial Academy, Anaxes
13 BBY; 3700 years later
Tejano's head slammed against the locker door, hard.
"Heh, the little grunt is useless, pointless." One bully laughed.
"Little Mr. Taranto, the class baby." The other one laughed. "You owe us something! Give it now and I might have mercy."
"You think you'll become a somebody? You're wrong. You're a nobody. So hand it over."
Trent groaned and slowly pulled out a small credit chip.
"Good boy Taranto. Now for your reward."
Ten minutes later, the locker door slid open, revealing the disappointed face of the janitor. "Taranto, I can't keep bailing you out here. Grow a limb! Stand up to these guys! Why back in my day, if you had a problem with someone, you fought it. You're not even trying to resist!"
"I know sir, thank you." Taranto pulled his bag out of the locker, slung it over his shoulder, and began heading over to his barrack.
Who cared? The janitor only cared about brutal fighting; he didn't understand that Taranto was scared. The teachers didn't care, his classmates just walked on, never giving him a second thought. He was nobody. There was nothing special about him. In fact, sometimes he wondered whether or not the galaxy really cared that he existed.
Who was he anyways? His parents just dumped him in this place, not caring a bit about whether or not he was okay with it. He was nobody, he was Taranto Shan.
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May Force of the Lord God Almighty be with you!