[OrFf](SciFi) Star Wars – Final test [T]

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1,594 Words (150,000 Goal)

Note from the Author: Rated T (for Teen!), for violence, supernatural themes, etc.. Standard Star Wars stuff. The Force! Supernatural! Not for the non-teen kiddies! Shoo, young lads and lasses!



The following is an account pertaining to the events cited herewith; the Jedi Trial of padawan Jorek son of Ik’ral Efo, the gathering of information on the Jadii people of the Hérille System, and the meeting of Vité daughter of Gladïre Assant of the Jarenn Tribe; recorded 983 B.B.Y. by Darsha daughter of Jorek Efo of the Naboo System.


Prologue

Time was shortening, and the execution of Jorek Efo was about to begin. At the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, a small rescue team of Masters had assembled and embarked in a small, specialized star ship. Fast, but not the fastest at their disposal. They had expected to arrive during the execution, hopefully not too late, but the best they could hope for was a little early. That way, it would have been easier to blend in amongst the crowd. Their hearts were saddened when they learned that, after all, they would arrive during the ceremony. But that had since passed, and four Jedi Masters were scattered amongst the huge congregation witnessing the execution.

The arena in which the event would take place was mainly cut deep into the earth; at the center of the ring of seats was a tremendous pit, several kilometers across at the widest point and dozens of kilometers deep. There were several maintenance levels below the seating, all with access to the high innards of the pit, but at the bottom of the pit there was nothingness, save for a few hours after each execution the corpses of the dead, before they are fished out by the grave keepers to be preserved and buried in a more kindly spot. The seating for the audience was initially a large oval of a dozen or so rows, each row back slightly higher than the one before it so that all could see the action. But that design had since changed, chiefly in expanding. Now there were several hundred rows, caged in by a circumference of cliff face. This cliff had many large screens adorning it, so that those too far back or too poor to afford their own private screens could still see what was going on. The extensions did not end there, for even the roof was made to hold an audience. All the rooms in the roof had clear glass floors, and were each equipped with their own set of luxuries. The richest and most authoritative men sat in these boxes. Additionally, the roof did not cover the entire arena, for there was an oval carved out of the top at the exact diameter of the pit below. Through this hole, star ships could enter the arena and hover around inside, observing the action, perhaps even policing events as crowd control, or providing military access in cases of emergency. As was the case this day, a fleet of military ships hovered around inside the arena, which was filled with millions of occupants.

Despite all this, the podium that the judge stood upon was a simple square of metal held aloft by chains, elevated at the exact height of the lowest row of seats at the exact center of the arena. Immediately to the right of the judge’s platform was another platform of equal size and elevation, identical to its brother. On it stood Jorek, cuffed in a sort of glowing energy-binder. Their strength was not in physical density, but in the way they restricted movement. Nevertheless, the fine, flexible cords of metal were made of the hardest alloy available to the Jadii: not quite strong enough to withstand the heat of a lightsaber, but impossible to break through strength alone. Jorek himself was human, tall but not lanky, broad-shouldered but not stocky. His hair was peculiar, especially for a padawan learner, for while the braid was still there, his hair was not cut short, nor did it fall from his head in a normal manner due to the way he wore it. Normally, the hair would be at about shoulder-height, but after many alterations it only fell down to his eye line. He wore a brown piece of fabric around his brow that held the hair above his head, and out the top all his hair fell in a mess of locks, braids and curls. The only parts of his hair that came out at the bottom of the tied fabric was his padawan braid and a clump of braided hair at the back of his head. The hair itself was the deepest of oranges, with spots of blonde dyed in. His eyes were electric blue, and not his natural eye color at all, which was a faded green. Aside from this, Jorek resembled most other padawan learners, more or less. He was clean-shaven, athletic and had a youthful look about him. He stood about six feet high, and carried himself with confidence, his feet apart, an image of strength. Even now, he showed no fear of death, and a hint of contempt for authority shill showed in his eyes.

On the platform with Jorek were his executioners, and a pedestal with a small cage that contained Jorek's saber hilt. The hilt was a simple, standard design, with a common-looking grip and of usual length and diameter (though it was obviously made to fit Jorek's hand perfectly). Only one thing about the hilt was rare and widely unique: it had no button to turn it on or off, for this saber was activated through the Force. It was a mark of how deeply understanding of Jedi lore its owner was. Jorek was sentenced to death by decapitation for the crime of spying, and it was custom to do it with the offender's own weapon. Six of the seven executioners wore their lightsaber hilts on their belt, as a ceremonial gesture, and were armed with ancient rifles that shot out not beams of energy, but pieces of metal. In the ancient tongue, these weapons were known as firearms, or more commonly the slang word guns. In the modern day, these weapons were known as slug throwers. This was by design, for if something unfavorable happened, it would be much safer to fire off rounds that could not be deflected back at you. The seventh executioner was unarmed but for his own lightsaber hanging at his belt: this man would be the one to do the act of executing while the others fanned out to provide covering fire in case anything went amiss. All the executioners were tall, about Jorek's height, broad-shouldered, stocky, and wore layer after layer of thick armor, of the same alloy that Jorek's cuffs were made of. It was not long now before the ceremony would begin. The crowd began to make more noise in its excitement.


The judge stood up, a short gangly man wearing robes that to the Jedi would seem normal attire, but to the Jadii was robe of authority. 'Jorek Efo,' he began. The crowd cheered, for while Jorek was popular amongst them before he was found out, they had been deeply insulted by his true purpose.
'It is my regret to announce that you are to be, on this day, decapitated by the blade of your lightsaber, for the act of numerous crimes against the people of Jadii. Said crimes are sinister in nature, and will thus be listed.'
The judge began to list Jorek's crimes. There was a little speech about spying, then some descriptiveness about decieving society, having an unfavorable personal agenda and disturbing the peace. At last came the individual crimes; when he came to illegal sporting, Jorek snickered to himself. He could remember it well, and he had enjoyed himself immensely. He was not sorry for anything that he had done, however cruelly the judge felt like wording it. Through the Force he could feel the shattered joy of the audience and even an outbreak of anger; he was being shown on all the screens of the arena, and many people had obviously noticed him chuckling at the memory. The judge even paused for a moment, barely noticeable, but continued on. He closed with 'May the Force be with you,' and stood back from the podium.

The executioners prepared themself, and those with slug throwers raised and aimed them. Jorek ignored them and concentrated on the one that would soon be killing him. He felt the beads of the laser-sights in his eyes as they hovered on his head, eager to guide the bullets. The seventh, unarmed executioner was making his way to the pedestal. Jorek shifted, and bent his legs a little more than they already were, preparing for what was to come. The crowd was quiet in hungry anticipation as the executioner reached the pedestal and with the Force opened the cage holding Jorek's lightsaber. As Jorek wondered if the executioner knew how to turn on a Force-activated lightsaber, the man himself started reaching down for the hilt.


I – A New Task

Jorek woke with a start. He had a dreamless sleep, and wondered why he woke with such a spasm, but it was done, and he soon dismissed it. He stood up, took his saber hilt from his desk and clipped it to his belt. His Master was still sleeping in the next bed, and rather than wake him with the lights, Jorek navigated the dark room using the guidance of the Force. He was eventually ready, and made for the bridge of the ship.

[Lantean]

Hey now! Hey now! A Star Wars fanfic eh? I'm a huge Star Wars fan! I shall watch this thread with interest... ^_^