STAR WARS: Brotherhood

Meeting the duke

Bright white lights streaked by as the ship sped through the vast galaxy. In the cockpit of this ship sat a young boy. He had a lose robe draped over his bare chest, scarred, muscular and tattooed all three a result of the Night-Mothers actions. A conflicted look passed behind the young boys eyes as he stared at the object in his hands.

"Oh Luminara." He whispered quietly.

In his hand was a hilt of a Lightsaber. It was black and bronze, rugged and formidable. It wasn't the weapon of a Jedi but a beast, signified best by the jagged spike of cruel, cold, unfeeling metal at its base. The crystal powering it's core wasn't anything natural. It's the product of magik and corruption of all things good and light in the world. The crystal was once two, taken from the Lightsabers of Jedi Master Luminara Unduli and twisted by Talzin and her Spirit Ichor.

It turned the blade from the vibrant green of the Jedi to the sickly pale green of the Night-Sister shamans. When Raiden used it he gave into his anger. Delved to the very depths of his rage. Basked in the cold fire of his enemies fear. No not enemies. For when he gave himself to the blade he succumbed to his baser instincts. They weren't his enemies but his prey. And he was the hunter. And the hunt was exhilarating.

He was manipulated, yes. But on a deeper level Raiden was more free on Dathomir than he had ever been before. At least that's what he thought. Now he has been set free from the shackles in his mind. Luminara had drove Talzins claws from his soul as she drove her magik from the Lightsaber.

He had thought to leave the weapon there on that dreadful planet. Or destroy it in the Mandalorian forge. But he could not. He had been healed as the Lightsaber had. But he would wear the scars of his ordeal for eternity. And he wouldn't have it any other way. For to forget would be to submit to Talzin. He will not forget. The blade would be a reminder of his suffering and preservation as would the scars.

And so he clipped the blade to his belt. He didn't think he would ever ignite it again as he shunned the Night-Mother with the action and embraced the Light. It was a symbol of a chapter in his life that he was finished with. He has been forever changed by it but would not let it destroy him. He smiled as he felt a presence in the Force and a hand rest on his shoulder. He didn't feel the weight of a hand but he felt the action. She approved.

It was an hour later that the Mandalorian ship jumped out of hyperspace. Raiden stood in his beskar armour. Forged himself on Dathomir and like all true Mandalorian armour it was painted with the blood of his enemies. A black robe reminiscent of the Jedi was draped over his armour hiding it from view as his ship was hailed from the planets surface.

"You request a docking at the Dukes estate?" A voice questioned from the holo-communicator

"I do." Raiden responded

"Your ship has no clearance for landing." The voice again responded

"Incorrect." Raiden responded as he input his Jedi clearance codes he remembered from years ago

"A Jedi? I'm very sorry sir. Would you give me a moment." The voice sounded shocked and then went silent for a few moments before returning.

"You are cleared for landing, please follow the docking beacon." The voice said much more respectful than at the beginning of the conversation.

"Will do." Raiden said, concise as ever.

The ship moved slowly under Raidens inexperience command but he made it to the docking bay nonetheless. He left the ship with his armour hidden from view but he left his Shoto Saber visible and it almost acted as a badge of identification. He was certainly Jedi of that they had no doubt.

He was met with the sight of eight armed guards. They had shock batons in one hand and a large plasma shield in the other. They had the classic Mandalorian armour and a blaster holstered to their belts. Their armour was coloured pristine white and dark blue and their visored helmets left their faces obscured from sight. The man they escorted was old, around sixty years Raiden guessed, but he held himself like a warrior in his prime, despite his thinning hair.