Star Wars: Rise of the Legion

The following comes from the Star Wars group-write I’m participating in, Star Wars: Episode LXXXIII: Rise of the Legion.  (I can’t even read Roman numerals that high … I learned numbers 1-10 from watching Star Wars and Indiana Jones, to be honest.)

Right now, what I write there is probably as close as I’m going to get to writing a serial story, so if you can tolerate melodramatic fanfiction, please enjoy. 😉  (I have some other stories I’ve been picking away at, but they’re nowhere near ready to be unveiled to the world.)

If you’d like me to post the rest of my episodes here, let me know.  They may need some contextualization, but I can probably figure something out.  To read the rest of the story and observe the other characters, click here.  (While I can guarantee that my posts will never venture beyond PG-rated content, I have no control over what my colleagues choose to write. So far, so good, though!)

Without further ado….



Episode LXXXIII: Rise of the Legion

Centuries after the Great Sith War, where the nefarious Sith Lord, Snoak, was overthrown, The Jedi have fully returned, and taken their rightful place as the peacekeepers of the galaxy.

But, as always, darkness will always follow the light. A General in the Sith War, Grith Morralloth, witnessed his brother, a Sith, die in the final battle, and blamed the Jedi for it, thinking them unjust for taking his life without giving him a chance to turn back.

Turning away from the Jedi and the Light Side of the Force, he became reborn as Darth Morrall, and began his own scheme to end the Jedi once and for all.

Grith, possessing not only the names, but also the exact location of all the future Younglings, stole all the future Jedi who were strongest in the Force, raising them and training them under the full influence of the Dark Side.
The result was a powerful army of Sith Warriors, dark knights who have never known light, or the influence of good.

Many years have passed and Darth Morrall has long since passed away, but his Sith Army continues to grow, laboring for the sole purpose of once again bringing about the downfall of the Jedi, and plunging the world into darkness.

However, even though these new Sith have never experienced the Light Side of the Force, many of them still feel it’s pull.

There is hope for these children yet…




Ro Fidsmor

“Uncle Jasek sure chose a busy place to meet up this time.” Rubbing the fatigue from her eyes, Ro turned her gaze from the crowded metropolis below to the dark-haired man in the captain’s chair and made this observation.

Grin Fidsmor stretched as he gave his young co-pilot a small smile. “Haven’t been here in ages. You know, sometimes I wonder if that guy’s really visiting his sick mother half the times he’s gone.”

The jumps to and from hyperspace had been bumpier than usual – which meant something needed to be fixed – and they’d spent about an hour circling around, looking for a good docking bay. By now, the sun had long faded behind Coruscant’s smoggy horizon, but from this high up, they had a great view of the city’s many levels.

Grin took in his daughter’s tired eyes, auburn hair that was messier than usual, and her rumpled clothes. “You look exhausted. Get some rest, kiddo. This place’ll still be the same tomorrow morning.”

Ro removed her safety harness – Grin never wore his – and climbed out of the co-pilot’s chair. She liked feeling needed at the controls, so she’d forced herself to stay awake all this time, even though she knew her father was quite capable of flying his freighter, the Jade Star, by himself. Besides, now that Uncle Jasek was coming back, she wouldn’t be sitting in that chair for months on end.

“Good night, Dad,” she yawned, giving him a quick hug. Grin wasn’t the huggable type, but he’d always make allowances for his daughter.

As she made her way past the galley to the crew quarters, she heard her father call, “…And don’t forget to take your meds, kiddo!”

Ro made a face. She took those vitamin supplements four times a day, and she was (almost) always punctual about it. That didn’t stop Grin from reminding her four times as much. What was so important about them anyway? The yellow-green capsules were bitter to the taste, and if you chewed on them, the stuff inside was all gross and slimy.

After she’d washed up and changed into her favorite pajamas, Ro took a seat at her desk and sifted through the cluttered mess of tools, datapads, and scrap parts. Covered by a thin piece of cloth was her secret project. To the unassuming eye, it looked like an old Mandolorian blaster gauntlet, but Ro had made a few modifications…. She tinkered with it for a bit before growing bored – based on the two sets of blueprints she’d borrowed from a library on Dantooine some months ago, some important pieces were still missing.

Ro selected her favorite holonovel from her small stash and snuggled under her warmest blankets, reliving the adventures of the legendary Princess Winter and her trusty Wookiee companion, Shubarrkaa. By Chapter Seventeen, Ro’s eyelids were so heavy, she shut down the datapad and pulled the sheets closer to her chin.

Just as she was drifting off, she heard Grin making his way along the corridor. With a hiss, the door to his quarters opened and shut. Not five minutes later, he stepped out again, his footsteps accompanied by the whirrr of their astromech, R7I5.

“You keep watch, Arsev,” Grin instructed. “I don’t want Ro coming after me.”

Ro heard the little droid bleep-bloop in protest. “Hey, hey … chill. I’ll be back soon.”

Ro sighed. He really thought she didn’t know about how much Sabacc he played!  Well, he rarely loses, she assured herself halfheartedly before sleep overcame her at last.

Grin Fidsmor

Grin took a deep breath, letting the dense pollution seep into his lungs. It was a familiar feeling, unpleasant yet comforting at the same time. He’d breathed this air for most of his early life – so far, it hadn’t killed him.

The Uscru District was a place he’d always avoided. Too many blinding lights, too much noise. It was no place for children. Or beggars. Or both.

Keeping his head down and his hands in his pockets, he weaved his way past the deathstick dealers loitering outside the louder establishments and slipped quietly into the prearranged rendezvous.

The Snapping Septoid was like any other seedy underworld cantina. A swarthy bartender served drinks, avoiding the eyes of his customers. A trio of brawny female Twi’leks sat in a corner, glaring balefully at passersby. A tinny speaker system played discordant music around the place, but no one was dancing.


Grin felt a small hand tug at his jacket. Instinctively, he grabbed onto it with one hand, the other hovering over the blaster holstered to his side.

His opponent let out a small squeal and drew back. Grin saw that it was an Ewok, standing waist-high at most. This Ewok wore a bulletproof vest and had a nasty-looking energy slingshot gauntlet on one furry arm. “Chubyub,” he repeated again, gesturing for Grin to follow him.

Most Ewoks spoke Basic; some, like this one, chose not to. Grin followed slowly, ready to draw that blaster, fire a few shots, and escape in the inevitable brawl should anything go wrong.

The Ewok led him to the rear of the cantina, where a dark form sat, cloaked in shadows. As it looked up, two glowing red eyes bore into his.

“Grin Fidsmor,” it purred, “we meet again at last.”

“Trist’eduno’lunam,” Grin replied, addressing the Chiss by her full name. “You look … radiant, as always.” Your eyes do, anyway, he wanted to say.

Eduno, as she was called by those less familiar with the complex intonations of her people, chuckled ominously. “You flatter me, Fismor. That won’t get you anywhere with me, you know.”

“Of course.”

“Sit down, Fidsmor. Let us talk business.”

Grin took a seat across from the Chiss. Casually ignoring the drink that the Ewok placed in front of him, he opened his mouth to speak.

“Ah … wait.” Eduno placed a slender finger over her blue lips, shushing him. “Business is so cold and cutthroat. A round of Sabacc first. If my memory serves me right, you are a most formidable opponent.”

Ro Fidsmor

When Ro awoke the next morning, it was to the smell of smoke and the plaintive wail of a flustered droid. Had Arsev tried to cook … again?

Throwing a robe over her pajamas, Ro jumped out of bed and raced to the tiny galley, where the droid was indeed using his various “arms” to fumble with a frying pan. The smoking contents – perhaps the remains of protein rations – were quite charred.

With a poof of the fire extinguisher (kept nearby for when things like this happened), the fire was put out and Arsev dumped his burnt creation down the garbage chute.

“R7I5, you know you can’t cook,” Ro said wearily.

With his one rotating eyepiece, the droid seemed to frown.

Ro gave him a little pat on his domed head. “Thanks anyway, buddy.” She opened the cabinets to see what supplies were left after Arsev’s little culinary escapade. There was still plenty of chocolate powder, which would help that awful medicine go down. As she feared, there was a fresh bottle of vitamin supplement pills waiting for her on the counter.

Tired footsteps made their way into the kitchen, accompanied by a long, drawn out yawn.

“Good morning.” Grin Fidsmore had clearly fallen asleep in his clothes, which were quite wrinkled. His brown hair – usually so neat – stuck up in multiple tufts, giving him a comical appearance.

“You snuck out again.” Ro tried to look upset, but soon enough, she was laughing out loud. As much as it bothered her how he’d sneak out without telling her, she couldn’t stay mad at him for long!

“At least I found us some work,” Grin said defensively. He didn’t take well to being laughed at. “I have to talk it over with Jasek when we see him today, but….”

“Is it respectable?” Ro asked as she mixed two drinks: hot chocolate for her, instant caf for him. Last time they stayed on-world for an extended period of time, they washed windows for a senator on Naboo. That and making a clandestine delivery to a spice-addicted Gungan.

“What does it matter? I said yes already.”

“But you said you’re going to talk it over with Uncle Jasek!”

“I was a little, uh, high, okay? I’m going to convince him to get me out of this mess.”

Ro sighed. She was beginning to feel mad at him again. “All right, what exactly did you agree to do?”

“I’m supposed to capture … a runaway giant, ferocious cat … I think.”

“Seriously?!” Ro thrust the mug of caf into his hands. She went to the cabinet and stuck a few ration bars in her pocket. Then, she walked to the exit ramp. “I’m going outside. I need some air. Don’t worry, I won’t wander too far off without telling you.”

To that, Grin chuckled awkwardly. After a few minutes, he called after her: “Don’t forget your vitamins!”

Take those stupid vitamins and throw ’em down the garbage chute, Ro thought sullenly.

She decided to take a walk. Not too far away, of course. Just around the docking bay, to look at the other ships that had come in during the night.

The gentle whirring of droid wheels on durasteel told her Grin had sent Arsev after her. She didn’t mind the droid’s company. Besides, if she ran into anyone unpleasant, Arsev could zap them silly.

The docking bay was practically empty, save for a couple other light ships. Several meters away was a small craft, a Fighter, heavily customized with several extra weapons. Ro decided to take a closer look. The pilot was nowhere in sight, nor a droid, which hopefully meant that she wouldn’t need to talk to any new people … or droids … or….


Startled, Ro whirled around to face the speaker. She immediately felt self-conscious of her appearance. She’d actually come out here in her pajamas!

…Well, if you consider baggy pants and a worn-out Hakko Drazlip and the Tootle Froots tunic pajamas. (All her dad’s old things.)

At least she’d remembered to put on shoes. Well, if you considered her dad’s old slippers adequate shoes.

“Loth-cat got your tongue?” the speaker persisted.

“I’m not homeless, honest,” were the first words that came to Ro’s mind, so she said them.

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