Thanks! Always nice to hear positive reinforcement! I'll have up more soon.

CHAPTER 1: The Crime of the Century A LIGHT Correllian rain fell over the memorial. It had been put up a while back, in memory of the three people slaughtered by a mentally ill man twenty years ago and the young girl who’d mysteriously vanished that day. It had been tragic, but, over time, forgotten. Twenty years gives a lot of time to forget. One person had yet to forget, however. Rain pouring off his shoulders, the twenty-four year old man known as Coran stood before the monument, staring at a name hovering in the air before him. It was a holographic monument, alternating between the four faces; two women, a man, and a young girl, each accompanied by a name that had been lost that day twenty years ago. Exactly twenty years ago, Coran thought, tightening his fist angrily, hate coursing through his veins. He wasn’t sure who he was angry at; his parents for leaving him? Ben for killing them? The girl for leaving him alone in his pain? It had been so long, Coran wasn’t sure why he still came. Why he still mourned them. Everyone else had moved on, so why couldn’t he? Of course, Coran knew exactly why he couldn’t move on, why he couldn’t forget that image, so burned into his mind. His father, eyes lifeless, a hole gaping in his chest, and the sick smell of seared flesh around him. As he focused on that image, his hand shuddered slightly, going to the blaster holstered at his side. His father’s old A-300. But something wasn’t right. Something… felt wrong about it all. The hole in the chest, the lifeless eyes, no, it wasn’t any of that. Something was wrong about the murder of his father, of his mother. But Coran just didn’t know what. Some feeling, some sixth sense was telling Coran, had always been telling Coran, that this whole event was… wrong. Wasn’t what he had been told. But for the life of it, he couldn’t figure out why. Coran cried out briefly in frustration, bringing his hand down on the holographic terminal emitting the memorial. The hologram shuddered briefly, pausing on an image of his father, and then continued the rotation. “I swear, I’m going to find out what really happened.” Coran muttered hoarsely. Rain fell down his cheek, running from his eyes almost like tears. Still silent in his mourning, a beep filled the silence. A moment later, the beep came again, almost more urgent this time. Coran sighed, stood, and turned his back on the memorial. Pulling his holocom from his jacket, Coran thumbed the ‘answer’ button. “Coran, you all set? We’re waiting on you.” It was Kaarn, an old friend of Coran’s, a Bothan who was incredibly skilled with hacking. They had met years ago, in a juvenile detention center. They had become close friends after discovering that both of them were orphans, out on the street, and soon, they had become leaders of their own little band of thieves, all children left out on the streets. “Yea, all set,” Coran said grimly, slinging a worn leather bag over his shoulder. “Meet at the rendezvous?” The tiny image of Kaarn’s face shook its head. “No, they made several changes to security. I want everyone to meet up back here so we can reconvene and decide our course of action.” “Alright, sounds good, be there in a few.” Coran flicked off the holo, not giving Kaarn enough time to respond. He had seen his friend’s look. Kaarn knew Coran had been at the memorial again, and Coran didn’t really feel like being chewed out for not letting go once more. Coran seemed to be the only one in their thieving band who hadn’t come to grips with their parent’s deaths. Placing the holocom back in his jacket, Coran tightened the leather strap around his shoulder and took off at a light jog into the rain. He didn’t have to run, but it sure felt good. ---------- “Where is he?” Alia asked, annoyed, directing the question at Kaarn. Kaarn, unconcerned, continued scrawling notes on a thin sheet of flimsiplast, additions to his already extensive infil and exfil plan. “Relax, he’ll be here,” Kaarn said distractedly, examining a point on a diagram of a standard Republic shuttle bay with intensity. Alia rolled her eyes at Kaarn’s obvious disregard and huffed lightly, impatient. She let her eyes wander around the sewer junction their little band called “home”. It was rather ugly, honestly. It was a small circular room, with four large round entrances to four of the main Correllian pipelines taking up the vast majority of the wall space. The constant pools of water at their feet kept the atmosphere humid. In winter it could get cold as hell, though. What walls they had were stained from years of water, and most of the comfort items; a couch, a few chairs, and a table, were stained as well. Their cots, hung from support beams at the very top of the junction, were the only things that didn’t get soaked when the sewers flooded. Still, didn’t making sleeping in them any easier. Alia couldn’t recall how many times she’d hit her head on the ceiling, close as it was, while waking up. Certainly one time too many. Gurkgren and Michael, the other two members of the band, were up their now, talking about something or another. Probably guns, like usual. Alia rolled her eyes, she had never though much of those two. Gurkgren, because he was a larger Trandoshan and the sight of him freaked her out and Michael… well she just didn’t trust him. Gurkgren, though, as much as she couldn’t stand the sight of him, was someone she could respect. Kaarn and Coran had found him on the streets, before they had found Michael or Alia, and saved his life from a xenophobic citizen who’d had a little too much to drink. Gurkgren had sworn his life to them, some form of a life-debt that many aliens seemed to have. It didn’t matter too much to Alia, all she knew is that Gurkgren was big, strong, and could kill just about anything. So he was good muscle for their little thieving band. Alia could respect that. Michael, on the other hand, Alia had trouble respecting. A school friend of Coran’s who’d dropped out and moved away from his parents to have a “more interesting life”; he’d only made it by with his incredibly smooth tongue. Michael would brag about how he’d once convinced a Cor-sec officer to let him go because it was the “right” thing to do, and how he held the record for seducing a woman. The men would often brag about this nonsense, the women they’d dated and how they’d flirted. It was all in good fun, Alia understood, but the way Michael talked about it all was sickeningly familiar to her the men in her past. Alia had been stuck on the streets for years before Coran and Kaarn had found her. She couldn’t remember most of what had happened to her, she had blocked most of it out, but she had been manipulated and used by men to no end. Honestly, when she’d told Kaarn and Coran about how she’d survived, they’d seemed shocked no man had killed her in their passions. Alia had wondered the same thing many times, but had never found an answer. That was why she’d never trusted Michael, not fully. Michael, although he seemed nice, had the same look in his eye as she had seen in the dozens of men who’d exploited her over the years. The greed, the hunger that showed they would do anything to get what they wanted. She just couldn’t let that happen to her, not again. But Coran, Coran and Kaarn, they were different. They had the same rough, mistrusting edges anyone growing up on the streets had. But they had this sense of purpose, of meaning to their strides. Like they had some reason they did this all. Like there was some greater purpose driving them. Coran, she knew what his purpose was, to find the girl who’d gone missing all those years ago. He had never directly said it, but whenever he described his memory of that night, he always seemed to imply that the girl knew what had happened. No one had the heart to tell him that, although what happened was a tragedy, they didn’t see any true foul play involved. Kaarn though, Alia still didn’t know what drove him. He was quiet most of the time, except for some sarcastic quips during their ops to ease the tension. She’d also never discovered how Kaarn had learned how to hack, slice, and plan so effectively. In all honesty, the furry Bothan was an enigma to her, one only Coran had seemed to crack. Coran was the only one Kaarn had ever opened up around; the only one he seemed to be able to talk to easily. That was the odd thing about Coran, Alia thought. He had this aura, this air to him. When he talked to you, you felt as though you could trust him with anything. Everyone else in the band, crew, whatever people called them, simply put his air to Coran’s charisma. But Alia… she just knew that there was something else going on. But, much like Coran and his parent’s deaths, she couldn’t put her finger on it. A splashing came from the south most sewer entrance. Alia sighed in what she hoped was annoyance, but was actually relief. It had to be Coran. Jogging into the room, chest heaving, came Coran, soaked to the bone. Everyone turned, alarmed, to face him. “Who’s following you?” Michael asked, hurriedly, sliding down from his cot to the ground, landing lightly on his toes. For there could only be one reason Coran would be running. Coran looked slightly confused. “What do you mean? No one is following me.” “Then why were you running?” This came from Alia. “Felt like it.” Came the response as Coran shrugged lightly. “Ugh…” The group moaned slightly, the sudden weight of panic falling from their shoulders. Alia went over and slapped Coran hard across the face. “Ah! What was that for?” “For nearly scaring me to death, that’s what.” Coran opened his mouth to reply, but Kaarn broke the potential argument up. “Shut up.” He said, his hair bristling, “We need to get to work or else we’re going to miss our opportunity.” That shut up Alia and Coran very quickly. Alia shook her head slightly. That had been rash and stupid, provoking Coran like that, but she had been worried about him… she stopped that train of thought in its tracks. She had to keep herself aloof. “Sorry,” Alia offered, hand out in apology, “Just been a little stressed, waiting here to go and all…” Coran smiled and shook his head, “No need, and its fine. I’ve been a little stressed too.” He turned back to face Kaarn, but Alia noticed how he hadn’t blamed the stress of waiting. No, he had something else on his mind. “Alright, Kaarn,” Coran said, slinging his bag over one of the assorted chairs they had laying around and grabbing a seat. “What happened?” Kaarn looked around the room before he began, making sure everyone had a seat and was paying very close attention, then he hit a button on his computer and their old holographic emitter whirred furiously, powering up. Within a few seconds a flickering blue image was floating in front of them. “Remember the original plan?” Kaarn asked passively, and the group nodded and muttered affirmations, “Get in the Council building, swipe the override codes from the emergency evacuation crews, and then hit the bank, using the codes to override the security terminal, using their emergency measures against them, right? Well, security got upped, just like I told you. Some recent surveillance by our drones,” The drones were one of Kaarn’s inventions, holonet recorders hacked to only respond to Kaarn’s signals, “showed an increase in the number of guards stationed here at the Council building. They are expecting an important guest, so they want to make sure nothing happens.” As Kaarn said this, he flipped through a few images taken by the drones. They showed patrols from a month ago, seven men to each one, to now, where nine men were in each patrol and the patrols moved through sentry paths much faster. Each member of the group, except perhaps Gurkgren, could see the dangers this would lead to. More patrols passing by meant more chances their presence would be noticed and more guards meant less chance of getting away. Mouth twisted in concentration, Alia piped up, “Kaarn… I hate to point this out, but our infil plan accounts for this.” She continued, warily, as if trying to offend Kaarn, “I was going to use the pass you forged for me to get inside. So long as that pass holds up and they haven’t cleaned out the system, the only time I have to look suspicious is in the Emergency Measures offices. Your pics there show that the patrols don’t move through that area any more often than they already do. I could still pull this off fairly easily.” The group nodded affirmation, now that Alia had pointed it out, they could see that their plan could still go off without a hitch. “In fact,” Alia said, eyes narrowed as she thought through the logistics, “Cor-sec has been tight this year, and they would have to pull men away from somewhere else to increase their patrol sizes at the Council building. The bank might just have less security…” “Entirely right.” Kaarn said, crossing his arms. The other four people looked at each other curiously, somewhat confused. It was Coran who spoke what they were all thinking. “So why is this a problem?” Kaarn smiled, showing his teeth, “That is just it, it isn’t a problem. It’s an opportunity.” “How this?” Gurkgren asked in heavily accented Basic. Turning to Coran, Kaarn asked, “Why did we come up with this plan, why are we stealing all this money? What was the point behind it?” Coran shook his head, “Kaarn, you know why we do this. We give some to help out the other kids out on the street and the rest goes into supplies and gear. You do most of the accounting here, you know where it goes. Why are you asking?” Now the group was looking at Kaarn sadly, confused as to what he was trying to say. “Because we aren’t going anywhere,” Kaarn said, the slightest tone of anger creeping into his voice, “We have no purpose. We just steal and do nothing with what we earn. You know what I mean Coran!” Coran’s mouth opened slightly and he half-heartedly shrugged, unaware of what Kaarn was talking about, “What are you-“ Kaarn cut him off, “Don’t do that! We all know you all want to find her! That girl who went missing twenty years ago! And you know what I want to do... what I need to do..." Kaarn trailed off, leaving the rest of his though unsaid. Alia cocked her head at this. So her instincts had been right, Kaarn did have some other, greater motivation. But that still didn’t answer what, exactly, that motivation was. “Yes,” Coran said, not meeting Kaarn’s eyes, “I know what you are talking about, but I don’t see what this has to do with what we are doing now?” Coran turned to look Kaarn in the eyes as he spoke, trying to understand his friend. “A ship.” Kaarn blurted out. Four sets of eyes looked at him curiously. “That’s what we need.” Kaarn pleaded. “With a ship, we can leave this planet, go across the galaxy, and we won’t have to limit ourselves to stealing from Cor-sec.” Everyone nodded at this, understanding his reasoning, liking the idea. Alia was thinking about how much more comfortable life aboard a ship would be. Maybe they’d even have beds. But Coran still seemed skeptical, even if he now understood. “Alright then,” Coran obliged, “We’ll start saving for a ship, but I still don’t see what this has to do with the current plan.” “I want to change the plan,” Kaarn said, and then, seeing Coran take a breath, started talking before Coran could. "I intercepted a transmission a few days back, high-grade encryption, but I piggybacked the Correllian decrypters to figure it out. The Council is going to have a very important visitor in a couple of hours, and they are pulling out all the stops for them, which is our opportunity." “Look,” He said, hitting a few keys and bringing up a new map. This Alia recognized as the map of the spaceport Kaarn had been looking at earlier. “In two hours, the Council’s visitor will arrive via this docking bay.” He gestured towards one docking bay C6, set away from the majority of the spaceport as a special landing bay for VIPs. “Then, for some reason I was unable to discern, two full squads of soldiers will escort the visitor to the Council building, where he will meet with the Council. The docking bay will be lightly guarded during this period, as so many people will be escorting the visitor. They will be working with a skeleton crew. We play this right and we can get right past them to the ship.” The room, if you could call it that, was absolutely silent. Alia looked around, and she saw the gleam in Michael’s and Gurkgren’s eyes. They were sold on Kaarn’s idea. But Coran was still not convinced. “Kaarn…” Coran said weakly, “This doesn’t seem too well planned out, I’m sorry, but it’s true. We don’t know who is coming, whether they have their own guards or not, the kind of ship they’re coming in… we could die doing this.” Alia had to agree, Coran made some good points. He had always been rather level-headed. But Kaarn wasn’t meeting Coran’s eyes, and Alia got the sense he was holding something back. “Actually,” Kaarn spoke hesitantly, “I do know all of that… I just didn’t want to tell you.” “Why?” Kaarn sighed, “The visitor is a Sith Lord named Darth Arctis. She is coming here to talk with the Council about joining the Empire.” The room slipped into a deathly silence. No one there considered themselves true patriots, but this idea scared them. The Council wouldn’t have invited the Sith to talk unless they were seriously considering accepting the terms. Corellia, their home, could be lost to the Sith. It wasn’t a pleasant idea. Having given them time to absorb that, Kaarn continued. “She will be flying in on a Fury-class interceptor. I already hacked the Cor-sec databanks and extracted the standard codes we used during the Great War to hack ships of that particular make.” Kaarn paused, uncertain, then continued, “If she is coming here, she obviously believes that the Council will agree to whatever terms he provides, so she won’t expect resistance. He should have no personal guard, and if he does, they will follow him to the Council.” It was a good idea, a thought out plan. They were all sold. Alia, though she hated to think her Corellia might go over to the Empire, was willing to go along with the plan. They were all nodding and on the verge of unanimous agreement when Coran spoke. “How will we escape? A Sith ship, flying unexplained from the surface? We could easily be shot down.” That pulled everyone back as they thought about this. As they realized how close death would be if they executed this plan. “Yea, about that…” Kaarn said sheepishly, smiling. “I never told you guys. I’ve been thinking about getting a ship and leaving for a long time. Oddly, I never thought about just buying a ship, always just stealing one. So, for the past five years or so I’ve been working on a hack.” Kaarn pulled up a complicated series of numbers on the hologram, letting the computer cycle through them. “It should, when applied, cut the power to any weapons systems on any ships out there connected to the central mainframe. They will all be connected to the mainframe, its standard operating procedure when they orbit any allied planet, so, when I start this baby up, their weapons’ systems will all go dark for a few minutes, giving us ample time to get into hyperspace.” Coran smiled and laughed as Kaarn finished his speech. “You never were one to come up with a bad plan,” he said, shaking his head, “Sorry I ever doubted you.” “Does that mean you agree?” Kaarn asked, and the whole group looked at Coran. They thought of Coran as their leader, he had always looked out for them and, honestly, not one of them could imagine going along with Kaarn’s plan without Coran’s say-so. “Yea, I’m in,” Coran said, and the room exploded in a quick succession of cheers. “But I have to ask,” Coran continued, going over to Kaarn’s side, “Who did you have to slice into to develop this hack of yours?” Kaarn smiled sheepishly, “The Republic military…” and smiles were exchanged all around. “I could’ve done that,” Michael said, jokingly, and the group laughed, not quite realizing the amount of skill Kaarn had displayed, hacking the military. “So how much time is left before they are scheduled to arrive?” Alia asked, still smiling, but letting her professionalism shine through. “An hour and forty-two minutes.” Kaarn said, checking his chrono. “Let’s get to work then,” Came Coran’s enthusiastic reply, “High time we got ourselves a ship!” After a quick cheer, the group delved into the dull topics of logistics and details, each person, or lizard, memorizing their role, all professional once more.

Hey, this is my first attempt at a fan-fic, hope you like it. Don't be afraid to say how much you like it! Or how much you hate it, but you know what, lets try to steer away from the latter. Enjoy! Forceblind SETTING: A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away… THE TREATY of Coruscant has been signed. The galaxy takes a breath, enjoying this frail peace. The Jedi, after losing both the Jedi Temple and the trust of the Republic, flee to Tython, their ancestral home, to train a new generation of Jedi to fight the coming war. But not all Jedi agree with this path. Many have fled the Order to make their own path in the world. Far from the front lines of the now delayed war, on the planet Draethos, an exiled Sith Lord, known only as the Master, waits, patiently, plotting his own war against the galaxy. The Master’s agents, experts in deception and manipulation of the mind, scour both Republic and Imperial space for the Chosen, force-sensitive children the Master had dreamt of, and bring them to his care. To be trained to be one of the most dangerous forces the galaxy has ever seen. An army to serve the Master. Deep within Republic space, on the planet Corellia, one of the Master’s most trusted agents carefully makes his way across the city-scape to a small home in one of Corellia’s oldest districts. There wait two of the Chosen, blissfully unaware of the turn their lives are soon to take… PROLOGUE: So it all begins… A KNOCK on the door brought Ben out of bed. He waved his wife down, seeing her move to wake up as well, but she shook her head at his concern and moved to get up anyway. Ben rolled his eyes, his wife was, as ever, determined, but that was why he loved her. As he walked over to the door, tying a loose maroon robe around his waist, Ben saw his old friend, Javiin, with whom Ben shared the house, walking over, having not even bothered with a robe and wearing only his boldly blazoned Frog-Dog boxers. Ben shook his head at his friend’s attire. “You know they haven’t won a match in weeks, right?” Ben asked humorously. “It’s the devotion that counts.” Javiin replied proudly. Ben just shook his head, “Go back to bed,” He said, chuckling, “I’ve got this.” “What, and miss showing them all this?” Javiin asked, gesturing towards his boxers with what was obviously sarcasm. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Ben chuckled and started towards the door again, “What, the visitor in the middle of the night, or the chance to embarrass me?” “Oh, definitely both. You know how I love meeting people, randomly, in the middle of the night.” “Oh, shut up.” “Glad to.” The unknown visitor knocked once again on the door, still that same patient slow knock as before with no noticeable increase in speed or decrease in patience. Ben, reaching the door, depressed the control and watched as the durasteel plate that made up his door slide up into the wall and reveal the late night visitor. The first thing Ben noticed about him was the robe. It was made of up browns and tans and was folded with perfection. The second thing he noticed was the lightsaber at the man’s side. That was when Ben’s heart sank. There was only one reason a Jedi, for who else would have a saber, would visit their home. He was there for the kids. Ben knew there were other possibilities, but he knew, with a deep certainty, that he was right. Turning his head to look at Javiin, he saw on his face that his friend was thinking along the same lines. The Jedi looked over the two of them, seemingly unconcerned by Javiin’s lack of proper attire. “May I come in?” The Jedi asked, all grim serenity. Ben and Javiin looked at each other. Javiin glared daggers at Ben, then at the Jedi, his message was clear; no, we're not going to let him in. Ben sighed, and lifted his hands up slightly in what was almost a gesture of defeat. Javiin, though he hated the idea, understood what Ben meant; do we even have a choice? “Only for a moment,” Ben said, restraint creeping into his voice. Ben waved the Jedi in, and, after the Jedi had passed into the house, waved Javiin over and whispered, “Get the kids out of here.” Javiin nodded and walked away, smiling at the Jedi and explaining how he was going to put on some clothing, leaving Ben alone with the Jedi. The Jedi turned to Ben, looking at him with piercing yellow eyes. Ben shivered slightly and pulled his maroon robe tighter around him. Something felt... wrong about this Jedi. "May I take your robe?" Ben asked, extending his hand in a polite gesture. Honestly Ben didn't care if the Jedi said yes or no, he just wanted to give Javiin time to get the kids out. "No, thank you," The Jedi responded, looking around the room slowly, as if searching for something hidden there. "This will not take very long." "What will not take very long?" Ben's head snapped to the side at that, looking towards the new speaker. It was Rana, Ben's wife. She was standing, arms crossed, at the doorway to their room. She had dressed in a loose robe, colored with an assortment of greens and blues, but her eyes didn't match the cool, calm colors she had dressed herself in. No, her eyes burned like coals, and Ben could guess that she had come to the same conclusion Javiin and he had; that the Jedi was there for the children. "The Trial, of course." The Jedi said, tilting his head to the side in curiosity. "Your children, and that of the other family that live here, Javiin and Miranda, are very special. They have the Force within them, and I am here to take them to where people with their abilities belong… But why the hostility? You should be honored, they will become great Jedi." The Jedi was entirely devoid of emotion, except for a light undertone of what was almost sarcasm in his voice. Like the Jedi knew how his words sounded, but just didn't care. Like the Jedi wanted to egg on Rana and Ben. "No, I am not honored," Rana said bitterly. Ben began to move towards her, he knew his wife, and when she got this angry, well, she wouldn't think about what she was diving into. "They are my children, and not just mine. They are Miranda's children too! Not yours! Not the Jedi's! You can't just take them from us!" The Jedi bowed his head slightly, though whether out of respect or annoyance, Ben wasn't sure. He guessed it was the latter. "Actually," The Jedi said, an underlying threat in his words, "I can." Rana's eyes flashed in anger and she moved to snap back, but Ben got to her first. His firm hand on her arm and a soft, but stern look stayed Rana's anger. "Just let me handle this." Ben whispered to her, smiling reassuringly. "We can respect that, Master Jedi," Ben said, turning to look the Jedi in the eye. Ben's eyes narrowed slightly when he saw the Jedi's expression. The Jedi looked almost... irritated. Was it at the conflict from Rana, or at Ben's defusing of the situation? Ben didn't know. "But," Ben continued, "We would ask that don't continue with this 'Trial' until Javiin and his wife are here. If this concerns their children as well, then they should be involved." "Of course. Then I will wait, but not too long, I hope." The Jedi said, and this time Ben thought he heard something resembling a threat in those last few words. "Thank you for your patience, Master Jedi. Rana, could you go check on Miranda and Javiin, please?" Ben gave his wife a look of pleading as he said that. She glared back; knowing why Ben was sending her away, but complied, leaving Ben alone with the Jedi. The Jedi, having no more need for Ben until everyone else was there, was walking around the room, seeming almost to be studying his surroundings. Ben wondered about that, was the Jedi actually curious about what was in their home, or did he just want to ignore Ben? Regardless, Ben thought, he is still here, and he still wants the kids. Ben closed his eyes and breathed, trying to think. Javiin had had enough time to get the kids out, surely? If so then, what were they going to tell the Jedi? That the children simply weren't there? Shaking his head, Ben threw out the thought. Javiin had probably thought up a story already, there was nothing to worry about. Throwing a brief glance at the Jedi, now studying a picture of the two families, Ben had a horrible thought. What if he was searching for the children right now? Using his mind to scan the house? Ben knew little of the Force, but it seemed like a reasonable skill for a Force-user to have. "So, what is your name?" The question, aimed at the Jedi, caught him off balance. As Ben had intended it to. The Jedi, pretending to look at some poorly taken photo of the families, had been reaching out with the Force, trying to track down the children, and hadn’t expected any conversation. There had never been any conversation any other time he had done this. Families just stayed silent, though whether out of fear or respect, he did not know, but could guess. “Goll,” Goll Pantarn responded, looking curiously at the man asking the question. “Goll?” Ben asked, sounding a little confused, “That’s an odd name for a human. Seems more like a Zabrak name… respectfully, Master Jedi.” Ben added the last bit in a rush, hoping not to offend the Jedi with a lack of conduct. Goll chuckled at that, “What makes you think I’m human?” “Uh…” Ben was taken aback by that. Looking more closely at the Jedi, he noticed how low the hood came over the Jedi’s face, and the small bumps in the fabric at the top of the Jedi’s head. Goll pulled down the hood, letting it lay along his back, and Ben could see the distinctive Zabrak spikes running along the top of his head. “Oh, my apologies, Master Goll, I did not mean to offend.” Ben said, bowing and trying his best to put a very sincere note of apology into his voice. Though he didn’t quite know why, Ben felt there was something off about the Jedi. Something that seemed like it would snap if he didn’t play things right. Goll chuckled again at Ben’s antics. “No worries, friend,” Goll said, a certain kind of sickly smooth tone in his voice, “And please, no more ‘Master Jedi’, Goll will do just fine.” He punctuated this with a smile; like a wolf baring its teeth. Ben drew breath to respond, though he wasn’t quite sure where the conversation could go from there, but Javiin came into the room before he could speak a word. “There,” Javiin said, loudly, running his hands down his body. “That’s better.” He was dressed in tight-fitting spacer’s gear; with a utility belt; a rugged and torn jacket; a pair of spacer’s overalls and a blaster holster at his side. The blaster sat there in its holster, an old A-300 Sonic Needler, the design resembling a centuries old weapon once used by the Corellians called a ‘revolver’. Javiin’s mentor, an aging spacer from before the Great War, had given it to him years ago while on his death-bed. But Ben knew the weapon was just for show, Javiin had never actually fired it, much less threatened someone with it. Goll looked at Javiin with little interest, and then past him. “And the women?” Goll asked, emotionless once more, it seemed his earlier moment of humor had evaporated faster than water in the Tatooine desert. Ben looked at Javiin, a pleading light in his eye. Javiin gave him a grin back, and took a breath. “Not coming, wanted to say goodbye to the kids. We’re staying here to discuss what exactly is going to happen here with all this ‘Trial’ nonsense.” Javiin said, confidently. He had thumbs stuck in the pockets of his overalls and was leaning against the back wall lazily. Ben sighed in relief. Javiin’s response and entrance had been cocky and smooth, he obviously had a plan and all Ben could do was to go with it. “Very well,” The Jedi said, now irritated again. He obviously thought that this was all taking up far too much time. “What do you wish to know?” The Jedi asked, placing his hands behind his back and facing the two men. Ben and Javiin looked at each other, shrugged, then turned back to the Jedi. “What is this ‘Trial’ and why do you need our children?” Javiin asked, pointing towards the Jedi defiantly to put emphasis on the word “you”, while the other hand lay aggressively on the holster of his weapon. The Jedi didn’t seem to notice Javiin’s threats, blunt as they were, or, if he did, he chose to ignore them. “The Trial is, in it of itself, a simple thing,” The Jedi began, his tone condescending, “I give each child this simple device, called a holocron, and, if it reacts, then your child is a Force user.” As the Jedi said this, a strange triangular object floated up from beneath the Jedi’s robes to hover, spinning slowly, in the space between the men and the Jedi. The Jedi gestured to the object, identifying it as the holocron he had mentioned. Javiin and Ben stared at the holocron for what felt like minutes, but were only seconds. The object gave off a faint blue glow as it rotated, slowly, in the air. It seemed to be made up of a thousand colors and a million layers, only of which a few Javiin and Ben could see. Finally, the pair broke off, shaking their heads slightly as if to cure some mild lapse in thought. Ben, however, was slower to break off. “Alright,” Javiin said, the confidence in his voice slightly unfocused, “But why does that give you the authority to take our children?” “Not merely me,” The Jedi said, with an air of obviously false humility, “The whole Republic needs your children to fight among the ranks of the Jedi, to repel the Sith. The Great War has taken a tremendous toll on our numbers. They will be heroes, Javiin, heroes. You should let them go.” As the Jedi said this, he waved his hand in an odd gesture, “As should you, Ben.” Ben instantly regretted his earlier decisions. He had been acting so foolish! Their children would be great heroes! Why should Javiin and him stand in the way of that? Ben smiled and chuckled softly at his own foolishness. “Apologies, Goll, I don’t know what I was thinking. You’re right, the kids would be better off with you, they would be heroes!” Ben was smiling, years of stress falling away from his face in seconds; he was feeling a blissful peace he hadn’t felt in years. Javiin, though, was staring at Ben in horror, mouth ajar as he tried to find words. “Good,” Goll said, “It’s good that you’ve seen the light, Ben. I knew you would. Javiin, what about you? Wouldn’t you agree that this is for the best? After all, Ben agrees…” Goll waved his hand again as he said that, and Ben felt another wave of bliss fall over him. The Master was pleased, Ben thought, all reason or loyalty flushed from his system. “Ben!” Javiin exclaimed, backing up, his voice strained. “What are you thinking? They are our children! Snap out of it, buddy!” “Hmm,” Goll mused, “You are devoted, aren’t you? And a strong mind as well… perhaps I just need to try a little harder.” The Jedi was rubbing his chin, curiously, a look of thought on his face. One of the few emotions he had shown. “What are you talking about? What is going on?” Javiin asked frantically, pulling out his blaster and aiming for Goll, “Tell me what is going on!” Javiin yelled, a fire in his eyes. “No, none of that now,” Goll said calmly, and the blaster flew out of Javiin’s hand and floated into the air in front of him, spinning to aim towards his chest. Javiin froze. “Hmm,” Goll continued to muse, studying Javiin as if he were some feral animal he had found on the side of the road. “Only a few of the Forceblind could withstand that particular Force technique, you could be an interesting study, if only to discover what gives you such immunity. Ben, what do you think?” Goll added it as an aside, not as if he truly valued Ben’s response, but was merely curious to hear what he said. Ben smiled eagerly at the chance to please his Master, his mind still in a deep haze. “I… We… think we should kill him, no, no!” Ben felt a sudden clarity as the mist in his mind cleared and he saw what was going on. The sorcery the Jedi was using on him. “No! Not kill, not kill, save!” Quickly, Ben stepped across the room to his friend, snatching the gun out of the air and turning it on the Jedi. “I’ll save my friend.” Ben said defiantly. Then the fog came back, but not like it had been before, blissful and sweet. It came as a storm does, angry and deadly. Ben gave a quick shout, dropping the blaster and falling to his knees as Goll took away Ben’s mind and made it his own. “No, but Master does not want to save, Master wants to kill.” Ben began to mutter hurriedly to himself, his hands and his head shaking. “But we… we… no, I, I will save… I will… save… I… we… we… we will listen to Master.” Javiin looked on in horror as his friend lost his mind in a matter of seconds. When Ben stood back up a few moments later, the blaster in his hand aimed at Javiin, not Goll, Javiin saw only emptiness in his eyes. Ben, all he had ever been, was gone. “A weak mind.” Goll said, studying Ben, “They do have their uses, but you… you, Javiin, you have no use to me.” Goll was walking back and forth now, motions irritated and angry. He was different now from the collected Jedi that had walked in a few minutes ago, Javiin thought. No, Javiin stopped himself, Goll hadn’t changed, he’d simply stopped lying. “You might have been of some use, if you had only given in. If you had just let me take control of that worthless organ you call a brain.” Goll continued. “You Forceblind will never learn, will you? All you do is rebel and resist and fight. As sand before a storm. You are nothing in comparison to me. Your kind are worthless, and don't even know it. Yet you still don’t back down. Fools, you’ll get what’s coming, soon enough.” After a short pause, as if to let his words sink in, Goll strode away, sending his final words over his shoulder as he left. "Ben, kill him." Javiin turned to Ben, staring deep into the empty eyes, and tried to plead with the friend he believed to be somewhere in there. “Ben, don’t do this, it’s me, Javiin, your best frien-" Javiin didn’t even get to finish pleading before the husk known as Ben pulled the trigger and ended Javiin’s life. There was no final words, no dramatic death, Javiin simply fell, chest smoking, and gurgled out his last breaths in pitiful agony. Task complete, it, Ben, just stood there, no purpose in life, waiting for its Master to give it a new set of orders. ---------- Goll, walking through the rest of the house, the holocron floating behind him like a loyal puppy, sighed in irritation. This was supposed to be a quick in and out, but had digressed into problem after problem. Goll rolled his eyes; there wouldn’t have been a problem if the Forceblind hadn’t resisted his control. Why they didn’t know their place, Goll would never know. A quick pain flashed through his head and Goll paused to assess himself. He was weak, too weak. As must as Goll enjoyed taking the minds of others for his own, it took too much out of him. He wouldn’t be able to do anything like what he had just done for a while yet. Feeling within the Force, Goll sensed that too much time had passed already, and resolved not to bother conversing with the other Forceblinds that lived here. Goll smiled at that, happy to give himself a reason to kill the other Forceblinds. Their mere presence insulted him. After a minute or so, Goll found the other two Forceblinds, trying to shove a young girl down some sort of hole in the ground. The lid was rusted and appeared very old, the smell permeating from it a noxious odor. Goll’s eyes snapped open as his mind placed the strange hole in the ground, a sewer entrance. That baffled Goll. For a moment, he wondered why the entrance to a sewer would be in the middle of a house. Then he shrugged off the question, more likely than not they just built over it, or renovated an above-ground sewer station. The two Forceblind's actions became more frantic as they noticed Goll, pushing with renewed force and yelling now at the young girl, trying to get her to move. They had obviously heard the shot Ben had taken at Javiin, and feared the worst. The girl was no more than two or three years old, and was standing a foot or two away from the entrance to the sewer, crying fiercely and yelling "No" with a childhood lisp. But for some strange reason, the two Forceblind woman, pushing as hard as they could, could not get the child to move an inch. Goll watched for a moment, morbidly curious, and finally figured out why they couldn't get the girl down. Around the girl, visible only to the Chosen, not to any of the Forceblind scum, was a light blue aura. The Force. The little girl already had enough strength with the Force to hold herself in place against the strength of two Forceblind women. Impressed, Goll finally took action, using the Force and reaching out to the two women. Still tired from the mental control he had exhibited earlier, Goll opted to snap the necks of the two women instead. A simple and efficient method. Two simultaneous pops echoed through the room. The women's bodies fell to the ground a second later, lifeless and empty. The young girl stopped crying and looked around, curiously, at the two bodies next to her. She ran over to one of them, obviously her mother, and began to shake it vigorously with both the Force and her hands. When the lifeless shell didn't respond, the girl began to cry again, sobbing into her dead mother's clothing. "It's alright," Goll said softly, reaching out to the girl, "She wasn't really your mother. She stole you from your true family." That was one of the stock lies Goll had for these situations. If the child thought their real parents were still alive, it was possible to keep them from hysterics long enough for any journey back to his Master. The girl, sobbing, looked at Goll uncomprehending and Goll groaned inwardly. She either didn't understand the words coming from his mouth, or was too in shock to respond. Goll guessed it was the former, which was a very common problem when dealing with kids this age. Sighing, Goll went down on one knee and held out his hand to the girl, being careful to keep his words simple, "Come with me." He said, quietly, adding a little bit of Force to his words to convince the girl. She shook her head and shoved her face back into her mother's clothing, sobbing once more. Shaking his head, Goll reaching inside his robe and pulled out a small injector. Goll hated having to resort to this, but he was not allowed to bring the child out by force. He had to do it in a safe and secure manner, the standard operating procedure his Master liked him to run under. Though Goll understood why, he still hated having to do it. Didn't feel right, resorting to these simple machines the Forceblind had created to serve them. A true Jedi should need no mechanical help, just the Force and his lightsaber. Simple as that. Reaching out, Goll injected the small child in the neck, and, a few seconds later, she fell to the floor, unconscious. Satisfied, Goll stood up and moved to the sewer entrance, feeling outward through the Force. He had been sent for two children, yet only one was here. The second one had to have already left through the sewers. Feeling with the Force, Goll felt the boy's passage through the tunnels, but also felt that the trail was already fairly cold, the child’s signature weak and faded. The child must have begun moving very soon after Goll had arrived. Goll gave a frustrated grunt, and then weighed his options. He could return with this one girl, obviously very powerful already in the Force, or chase after the second one and risk being caught and losing both. With no small amount of difficulty, Goll came to a decision. Picking up the girl and walking out the front door, Goll set the girl down and closed the door behind him manually, refusing to use the control panel. Reaching out with the Force, Goll mentally locked the door from inside and broke the lock, crushing the circuits in the board and making sure to do the same with the override before the door’s safety features reopened the door on the sudden loss of power breaking the circuits had provided. Satisfied that the door could not be opened easily, Goll picked up the girl once more, lightly caressing her sleeping features, and left into the night, heading back to his ship on the other side of the small town and leaving the second child behind. ---------- Hours later, after Goll had left the planet, a small boy, between two to three years of age, pulled himself up through the sewer entrance inside the house. Such a feat would have been difficult for a normal boy this one’s age, but this one was, albeit unconsciously, using the Force to augment and increase his strength. He saw the bodies on the floor, but did not recognize his mother, as her clothing had fell in such a way that it concealed her features and moved past them with the ignorance of children. The boy continued to walk through the house, calling for his mother and father, until he reached the living room. The creature once known as Ben still stood there, waiting for orders that would never come, from a Master who would never return. "Hi!" The little boy yelled enthusiastically, waving at the husk of a man. Naturally, it didn't respond. The little boy shrugged, now disinterested, and continued to walk around. That was when he saw his father, laying on the ground, the hole in his chest having stopped smoking hours ago. "Dada!" The boy cried, running to his late father's side. As a little girl had done in the house only hours earlier, he pushed and shoved and shook his father every way he could, trying to wake him, before giving in to tears and sobbing into his father's clothes. A few hours later, still sobbing slightly, the little boy remembered what his dad had told him to do if something bad ever happened. Walking over to the comm system, the boy punched in the emergency code. Within a few seconds he was in contact with the planetary authorities as they asked the child what had happened. Within a few minutes he was being comforted by a warm, nice security officer as the boy watched the husk known as Ben be tackled and arrested for murder while his father was taken away and put in a bag. The boy asked where his dad was going, why he couldn't go with him, and the officer comforting him looked very sad, and deflected the boy’s question by offering him a lollipop. Naturally, the boy took the candy and forgot about his father for a while. Within a few hours, the boy was sitting at the security station clutching the only thing the officers had let him keep of his late father's, the A-300 Sonic Needler, power pack emptied and weapon useless. Staring at the weapon, sitting polished and greased in the boy's hand, the boy tried to comprehend what was going on, his young mind not able to grasp the tragedy that had just befallen him. Little did he know that his life had just been changed forever. ---------- Star systems away, on a desolate planet known as Draethos, a girl sat in a cave, staring at a glowing triangular object in her hand, the holocron Goll had carried, and tried to understand what was happening. Goll watched the girl; in particular the strong reaction the holocron had at her touch, and sighed, thinking in frustration about the boy he'd left. "Master, let me apologize again, I should have brought the boy as well, I didn't…" His Master cut him off, a shadow in the corner of the cave, hungry red eyes watching the girl. "It does not matter," the Master said in a withering voice, "There is a reason for everything, my young apprentice. The Force wanted us to only have the girl, and I will not question it. She is among the strongest of the Chosen; I have no doubt of that. She is worth at least a dozen of the other recruits.” Goll nodded, reassured by his Master’s words. “Thank you, Master, for your forgiveness.” The Master nodded slowly and waved away Goll, a surprisingly quick motion from a limb appearing so aged and frail. Goll bowed respectfully and left the cave, walking out into the daylight. For several more minutes the Master watched the girl as she stared, transfixed, at the holocron before her. He saw her presence in the Force, the blue aura around her frame growing brighter the more she stared into the holocron, and knew. The Master spoke once more, voice not loud enough for anyone to hear, nothing but a faint whisper. “And so it all begins…”

Actually... Trancendance is a level 22 sentinel ability... They were both levels 18 and 19 respectively, so it couldn't have been that.

I don't know about Sorcerers or Operatives, but Snipers get a buff in cover called "Unshakable" that makes them immune to interrupts, like Force Kick... makes Snipers a real pain to deal with.