Star Wars: Jarael and Zayne

Chapter One

Zayne Carrick had been an exemplary Jedi Padawan. His zeal for the Order was only matched by his impulsiveness. Too often he had plunged head first into the gauntlet with reckless abandon. Now he found himself Masterless, having witnessed his Master slain by A Sith Lord. Zayne promised revenge, and that was not the Jedi Way. Worse he had begun to stray in another vow, attachements forbid. He had become close to an Arkanian Offshoot, a feisty gal named Jarael, who's pale white complexion and matching ivory hair had become a sight he welcomed every day. The two were aboard a slaver ship, Jarael carrying cargo to the Empire. Zayne turned a blind eye to the violation of Republic Rights, because the cargo of sentient souls was his door to the Sith, to revenge.

The Bronze Cruiser came out of hyperspace above Korriban, the Sith homeworld. Inside a circular door opened like a mouth and a woman of pale white stepped through. Her eyes where silver, and all along her skin were larimar blue tatooes in the shape of sythes and vines. She wore a grey jumpsuite and surveyed the cargo of souls, many of which were Ithorians. She held a datapad and came across Zayne who was mediating.

"You praying again? Is that all you Jedi do?"

Zayne peeked out from his lids and met the firery silver of Jarael's irises.

"Concentrating. We will soon be walking among the tombs of the Sith Lords. I need to summon what strength I have to meet the darkness that awaits us."

Jarael scoffed.

"You Jedi and your fear of the dark side. Do you ever wonder what it is to feel? To even.. taste the fruits of pleasure?"

With those words Jarael drew close to Zayne, her lips within reach of his.

Zayne felt a flame inside him begin to burn, he felt feverish and tingled all over. Trying to take control of amorous tempest, he closed his eyes once more.

Jarael laughed.

"Yep, Monks with laser swords. Don't worry Jedi, I won't tempt you to remove your cowl and break your vows. I just am having a little fun."

Jarael stepped back and resumed inspecting the cargo. Zayne opened his eyes to look at her, he felt a yearning, a desire to walk up and touch her. He took hold of his hand, and spoke softly to himself.

"There is no emotion, there is peace."

* * *

The Slave Ship was met by two black pyramid shaped ships. They opened a hail.

"Unidentified Ship, you are approaching restricted airspace. Identify."

Jarael took to the comms and replied.

"This is Jarael, carrying cargo for Lord Kull. Verfication number 0066/I."

There was a pause and then a responding transmission.

"Verification code received, you are cleared to land."

The Bronze Cruiser broke through grey clouds and paused above the black desolation of rock and grey structures.

Jarael looked at this underworld.

"How can anyone live in such a place? Gives me the creeps."

Zayne had walked up behind Jarael.

"You should offload me as soon as possible. They will have likely sensed me in The Force. I tried to mask my presence, but.. I cannot be sure how long they won't notice me."

Jarael punched a lot of buttons and then turned to the Jedi.

"Long as you don't jeoprodize my payday, everything will be fine."

Zayne felt compelled to object to this trafficking of souls. Then he remembered he was in no place to judge her, he was on errand of revenge, forbidden by the Jedi Code.