Chapter 4 Meetings

When Markus awoke, he tensed up at the sight of his strange surroundings, then remembered what happened and sat still in what he knew was the pilot's chair, mentally going over what had just happened. His mind was a maelstrom of confusion, every question whirling around in his head. What was this place? How long had he been out? And how the hell did he manage to land whatever craft he was in?

It felt like a impulse, he thought as he sat, still absorbing the recent events, like the knowledge was given to me at that moment. But how? Why? I mean, I took that pilot's course a year ago, but that still doesn't explain much.

Then there was the question of where, or perhaps even when he was. The device he had used could have taken him anywhere, inside or outside the known universe. He could be in another dimension, an alternate universe, in the past, the future, anywhere, and there was no way of truly knowing. Still, he was alive, and for that he was grateful, although he had no way back to his own universe and had no idea where he was or what he was doing. Even so, he set to work answering his first of many questions, What the hell is going on here?

He decided that while he had no way back, he should probably find out everything he can about this place for further study, as he figured that something might prove useful in surviving here. After looking out the cockpit viewport and seeing only darkness, he started to press keys and buttons randomly, clueless to what would happen. When in doubt, he thought to himself, using one of his usual phrases, screw around 'till something happens. Suddenly, images appeared on the screen. After a moment he recognized that the images were icons, part of a visual data navigation program, with links leading to different databases. He decided to visit the section labeled help , hoping it would answer some of his questions. When a question box appeared on the screen, he typed:

Identify current location.

The computer answered in a bland female voice, slightly startling him. "You are an occupant of the Ebon Hawk, a Dynamic-class light transport. Built approximately 3968 years before the Battle of Yavin by Core Galaxy Systems.” Markus blinked in surprise at the answer. The craft was a starship, and on top of that it was straight out of Star Wars! Then, another thought entered his mind.

Great, he thought cynically, I get an awesome ship and it's 4000 years old. Markus knew from his uncountable hours pursuing Star Wars paraphernalia in his spare time that the Ebon Hawk, form the Knights of the Old Republic series of games, was a Corellian transport ship that, after falling into the hands of many owners during the peace between the First and Second Sith wars between 4000 years BBY (Before the Battle of Yavin in Episode IV) and 3950 BBY, eventually became the property of Revan, a former Sith Lord captured and mentally reprogrammed by the Jedi to fight his apprentice, Darth Malak, who had taken the mantle of Sith Lord and usurped control of Revan's armies. Revan, along with his motley crew of Jedi, soldiers, and smugglers, had used the starship to travel around the galaxy in search of the Star Forge, the mythical factory station that had been built by the ancient Rakatan species. The station was responsible for the massive Sith buildup, and could produce infinite amounts of warships and battle droids.

Revan and his crew finally managed to defeat Darth Malak, and the Sith quickly dissipated. Shortly after the battle, however, Revan mysteriously took off for the Unknown Regions of the galaxy, claiming he had foreseen a threat to the entire galaxy. The ship reappeared five years later and was used by a former general of Revan's, known only as the Jedi Exile, to defeat a Sith nihilist cult. The ship once again disappeared when she went to search for Revan, shortly after that particular Sith cult was defeated by her. No trace of the ship was ever found after that. Until now, that is.

Oh well, its got to be better than what I'm used to. "List specifications." he said, still very interested in his newly acquired piece of futuristic technology.

"Hyperspace top speed is 1.0, sublight speed is 89 megalights per hour. Weapons include-"

"Wait, hold on a second. During Knights of the Old Republic you couldn't go 1.0. Was this thing modified?" Markus asked, already forming a hypothesis in his mind. Somehow, subspace must've modernized the design of the vessel to the current era, which was probably around the Galactic Civil War period, maybe even further forward in Star Wars history.

"Approximately 7 hours, 6 minutes ago." the computer responded. Markus blinked in realization.

"When did we enter normal space?" he pressed, seeing his hypothesis become fact. If I'm right...

"7 hours, 6 minutes ago." it confirmed in its bland voice.

The rift must've affected the ship. he thought to himself, his mind already forming hypothesis after hypothesis as to exactly how, each one sounding more and more like a Star Trek plot device. Hell, maybe the rift even created it. He thought of another possibility, one that was too intriguing to ignore. "Did the subspace rift affect me?" he asked, checking that he was still himself. You can't be too careful when dealing with this level of weirdness. Markus, from hours and hours of watching Star Trek with his father during his childhood, knew space and its numerous phenomenon were weird and ridiculously unpredictable, and you never could tell what would happen.

"Internal sensors are currently offline due to secondary systems damage. Continue with specifications data?" the computer responded, oblivious to his excitement.

"Yeah, sure." Markus replied as he leaned back in the chair, his imagination still pondering other surprises his change in fortune might hold.

"Weapons include 2 forward facing fire-linked Taim & Bak AS-7 laser cannons, 2 Borstel RV-5 dual turbolaser turrets mounted dorsally and ventrally, respectively, and two Arakyd MX7 concussion missile launchers, each with a magazine of four missiles each. Shields include particle and ray shields developed by Novaladex and Konseyar."

"Damn!" Markus smiled when the computer finished, astounded at the firepower and speed. Even if he was stranded here, he wasn't without weaponry. Weapons were his lifesavers, and he liked plenty of them. "What are the other databases?" he continued, his ever growing curiosity guiding his search.

"Historical, Ship Registry, Biological, Medical, Entertainment-"

"Put entertainment on-screen." he requested, wondering what was in it, imagining weird alien music and sci-fi versions of TV shows. He was amazed, however, to find that every piece of media he had ever seen, read, or heard of during his life and more, including all six Star Wars films, lay in the database. Markus sat forward, stunned at the mere existence of the files. "What is this database composed of?"

"It is everything that has been broadcast, released as media, or published in print on the planet Earth."

At this Markus paused, comprehending the sheer scale of the computer's memory. "That's awesome" he said, impressed to say the least. This technology was incredibly advanced, far more than his own, the memory systems alone able to hold thousands upon thousands of terabytes. "Copy all files and compress them on datapad A-1." he said after he'd figured out how to select an external drive to copy the files to.

A thin, rectangular piece of metal about the size of a large laptop computer was released from a mounting on the console to his upper right. As he looked it over, he noticed it had a touchscreen control format, a microphone, and some sort of projector mounted on it's side. "Additional requests?"the computer offered after he took the datapad.

"No, I'm good." he replied, more than satisfied with his discoveries. The computer shut down, and the screen went blank. Markus leaned back in the pilot's chair, a grin pasted onto his face. He was more than happy, not only with the technology that had been practically dropped in his lap, but with the opportunity that had been granted to him. He could finally leave his old life behind forever and begin anew. This whole thing is so kick ass, it's almost surreal. He thought to himself as he stood up. Now, let's see what else this place has to offer.

Markus left the cockpit and walked down the cramped hallway, the ceiling only about six inches taller than him. At the end of the hall the was a larger room, like a common area, complete with two tables, a bench, and a large holoprojector in the center. A hall branched off to the gun wells, another two to the sleeping quarters. Two cargo bays, another two medical bays, and the engine maintenance room all branched off from them. Two other rooms adjacent from the common area, looking very much like storage closets, also took up some of the space. But what really caught Markus' eye were two deactivated droids in the corner of one of the storage closets. One was a crimson-highlighted R3 unit with a clear domed head, showing off its processing hardware and sensor suite, and the other looked like a bronze protocol droid except for its streamlined rectangular head and the short-barreled blaster rifle clutched in its hands. This, along with it's exceptional height of a little over six feet tall, made the droid an imposing figure to say the least.

He instantly recognized the latter from Knights of the Old Republic as HK-47, the assassin droid of Darth Revan's. Even after Revan's reconversion to the Jedi, HK returned to him and helped him defeat the Sith Empire he had created, and the droid had also assisted . Markus walked up slowly, and when he was confident there were no traps set for him, he took the rifle from the protocol droid as a precaution and started to look for an activation switch. Sure enough, he found it on the back of its neck. He flipped it, causing the droid to jerk slightly before standing up straight. Its squinty photoreceptors shined a bright red as they winked on. Markus raised the rifle, unsure of what HK-47 would do. The droid did not attack him however, and instead spoke in a voice similar to C-3PO, but without the accent and more cynical and sarcastic in nature.

"Thank you for activating this HK protocol droid. I am HK-47. I am programmed in combat and protocol, and I am also programmed with 1.5 million forms of communication. How may I be of service?" It paused for a moment, then said to itself in an irritated voice, "Why the hell did those confounded Czerka programmers see fit for me to utter the same ridiculous line every time I reactivate? Wait, why am I not identifying my statements before vocalizing them? And who are you?" the droid asked, looking over at him intently.

“Okay...uh, I'm Markus Silverman.” Markus said, confused at the robot's wonderings but nonetheless keeping the blaster rifle trained on the droid. “So, are you going to attack me or something?”

"Oh no, Master. Murdering my owner is a direct violation of my primary programming." HK-47 assured him in a much calmer voice. “Unless the owner violates my self-preservation protocol. Unfortunately, most of my former owners misused me, and then when they were finished, they attempted to destroy me. Naturally, I killed them with the most precise and inventive methods I could fathom. Since you have reactivated me, my programming has recognized you as my new Master.”

"So you're not going to attack me, right?" Markus asked, still holding the blaster rifle, watching the robot's every move.

"As I said, it is a violation of my primary programming." HK repeated in a slightly more irritated tone.

The teenager thought the droids words over for a moment before giving him the benefit of the doubt. "Okay, I'll buy that." Markus said, lowering the blaster, thankful that he wasn't killed in the first few minutes of his new lease on life. Things were confusing enough without the possibly of imminent death.

“So Master,” HK asked him, snapping him out of his thoughts, “where are we? I know I'm aboard the Ebon Hawk, but what's happened? How long has it been since I was owned by the Jedi Exile? And I'm still at a loss for a reason why I'm not vocalizing the type of statement I speak before I say it. Don't get me wrong, Master.” the droid added. “I enjoy not having to say 'Statement' or 'Recitation' or 'Observation' every time I wish to speak. It just feels...strange.”

Markus scratched the back of his head, wondering how the hell he could answer the droids questions, especially the last one. “That's a really freaking long story.” he replied, the thought of even telling it making him weary. There's so much to tell! Then, the boy had an idea. “HK, can you download data from this?” he asked, handing the droid the datapad. “It ought to explain things a lot better than I can.”

The bronze droid took the datapad from the boy's hands, inspecting it for a moment before plugging the device into an input on the front of his midsection. “As you wish, Master, but I don't see why-” The droid suddenly ceased speaking, his photoreceptors flashed on and off, and his head began whipping up, down, left and right, as if he was having some kind of electronic seizure.

Markus raised the rifle again, unsure of what was happening to the robot. “What the hell? HK-”

Markus was cut off as the droid's spasms ceased abruptly, through he still appeared to be in some sort of trance. “I apologize for any worry I caused, Master.” HK-47 stared straight ahead, as if in a daydream. “The sheer amount of data being uploaded to my system nearly caused it to crash. Processing...” For a minute there was silence, the soundlessness only broken by an occasion “Processing...” from HK-47. Suddenly the droid seemed to regain his senses, looking directly at Markus.

“You were correct, Master. It would have taken a meatbag such as yourself a great deal of time to explain all this to me, and the explanation still would have been lacking.” The droid paused for a half-second before continuing. “Now, from what I understand, you come from a barely post-industrial world in some sort of parallel universe with only humans for intelligent species. Judging by your speech patterns, you have origins on the North American continent, and based on the fact that you managed to land this vessel, you seem to have a passing knowledge of my universe.” The droid continued in a slightly more incredulous voice. “It appears I am a character of sorts in a fictional saga named Star Wars. Apparently I first debuted in some sort of primitive game called Knights of the Old Republic. Odd...the timeline presented for this series does not play out how I imagined it would at all. Still, this is most intriguing!” The droid finished by adding, “Now that that's over with, would you like me to kill something for you?” Before Markus could respond, he continued, pointing over to the R3 unit in the corner. “I believe that R3 unit should be reactivated.”

Markus, who had been listening the entire time, shook himself out of his stupor."Sure, whatever." he answered, by now satisfied with whatever discoveries presented themselves. HK stepped forward and, after a moment of inspection, hit a minuscule switch on the front of the R3 unit. The astromech's lights flashed and motors jerked as it came to life. The droid swiveled it's domed head, rolling out of its corner. It then turned to Markus and extended a small sensor rod from it's main body, which shone a broad ray of blue laser light up and down his form.

"What's it doing?" Markus asked HK in a slightly nervous tone as the light shone across his body, traveling up and down rhythmically.

"I believe it is scanning you, master. Is it angering you? May I blast it?" he replied, with an eager tone taking a blaster pistol out of a compartment in his leg, seeming like he was drawing it from a holster. Markus cursed himself silently for not seeing the hidden compartment.

"No, no, it's alright." Markus said quickly, not wanting a possible ally blasted to scrap. Besides, his own R-unit would be cool, too. When the astromech was finished, it retracted the rod and opened a side panel. It then twittered something in typical R-unit binary code.

"It says that it has been instructed to seek out and give the items it carries to a person of a certain 'Force sensitivity', someone who matches its Master profile. Apparently, it thinks that person is you." HK translated, seemingly unfazed at the mention of the Force. Markus' jaw dropped at the mention of the Force, and all he could do was stand there in shock, his brain struggling to comprehend what he was being told.

"So I'm...I'm like a Jedi or something? " Markus asked, completely dumbfounded at the prospect of being a Force-user. The R3 unit beeped again, whistling its message in a matter-of-fact tone. HK translated again.

"Not necessarily, but with a certain amount of training and skills, then yes, you could very well become a Jedi, though why you'd wish to become one of those pacifistic morons, I have no idea. This R3 unit can upload its scan on your datapad, if you wish."

Markus took out the device, still speechless. It flashed to life, and in a moment, a blue outline of a human appeared. Markus squinted at the readout, but was unable to decipher it. "What does this mean?" He showed it to HK, hoping the droid had answers. The droid stared at the screen for a moment before answering,

"Hmmm...very interesting. It appears that you are somewhere in the upper half of the Force spectrum, though I can't pinpoint where. You have much potential, but you'll need experience in order to reach your peak force efficiency."

"I'll be damned..." Markus could say nothing else as he watched the screen, his mind whirling about at full throttle. This must be another side effect of that rift. My luck's getting better and better!

He then turned his attention to the R2 unit. He reached into the opened panel, and pulled out a metal cylinder about 11 inches in length. It was silver, with several buttons and knobs adorning it, mainly a large rectangular stud on the side. A black emitter shroud adorned the end, with black ridges lining the silver hilt, creating a contrasting look.

"Oh my God! This is a lightsaber!" he said excitedly as he ran his thumb over the activation stud. The 1.3 meter long cyan blade flared to life, illuminating the corner of the ship. He stared at the weapon, thinking for a moment that the hilt looked like Darth Vader's lightsaber, with its jet-black emitter shroud and handgrip and its chrome handle, then thinking of the possibilities of what he could do with everything he had just come into possession of. He also thought of the possibility that this had happened for a reason, that it wasn't just a random occurrence. He discarded the thought as he shut down the energy blade, however, when he remembered he hadn't eaten for a while.

"Hey, do you know if there's any food here?" he asked HK, remembering that the droid had previous knowledge of the Ebon Hawk.

"I believe there is a supply crate in the cargo hold down this hall, if I remember this vessel correctly." he said, gesturing to another passage at the other side of the room. Markus made his way down the hall, and to his right he found the cargo bay with one plain gray box in it. After he pressed a button on the side which shut down a magnetic lock he was able to open it. He found it was filled with emergency supplies, like a portable matter synthesizer , a holdout blaster, a moisture vaporator, a flask, and a backpack with a med-kit. There were also some solar chargers for the electronics. He decided that he would pack everything he could into the bag, just in case he had to leave in a hurry. After eating a pack of bland biscuits labeled “protein rations”, he went back through the ship to the droids.

"Okay, I've got the supplies, so we're good in that respect. Hey HK, does this R-unit have a designation?" he asked as he returned down the hallway to the common room. The R3 warbled a response at the protocol droid, and HK translated the binary code.

"It's designation is R3-M4." the droid replied, then added, “Curious. I once knew an astromech designated T3-M4. Annoying little trash compactor...”

"Alright then, I'm going outside to assess the ship and see what's out there. You guys coming?" he asked, clipping the lightsaber to his belt on his jeans.

"We might as well. However, I suggest you give me the blaster." HK suggested. "I am the most qualified marksman here, after all." He held out his hands for the blaster, his movements suggesting his eagerness.

"Oh. Whatever." Markus handed him the rifle. He figured he wouldn't need it anyway since he had the lightsaber. They proceeded to the boarding ramp, and the looked out at a dark forest, filled with the sounds of countless nocturnal creatures, with the full moon above, and the only other source of light coming from the landing lights. To Markus, who had rarely been outside of urban areas for six years of his life, the forest was both amazing and frightening.

"HK, what time is it locally?"Markus asked, wondering exactly how late it was.

"About 0200 hours." the droid said, then added. "Shall we get to work, Master?"

"Alright, let's take a look." Over the next half hour, they scanned the exterior of the saucer-shaped ship, logging in every damaged hull plate or piece of machinery. Apart from some minor details, everything seemed in order, and it appeared that the freighter was altogether still worthy of flight. During this time, Markus learned a great deal about the Ebon Hawk's sublight drives, which used electromagnetically-directed, high density ion thrust to propel the ship through space, and the hyperdrive, which he learned accessed hyperspace by directing an antiproton beam directly ahead of the vessel, opening a subspace vortex that hurled the ship into the hyperspace dimension, which the ship could traverse much faster than normal space. When the ship exited, it used another antiproton beam to revert back to it's original dimension.

Taking a break from the inspection, Markus decided to test his abilities. He remembered reading about the use of the Force, how the user stretched out their mind and analyzed the object, and he tried it out. He focused on a nearby fallen branch, felt it through the Force, then thought of it lifting into the air. Amazingly, it did, rising a full meter, wobbling slightly.

“Impressive, master.” HK looked on, watching his new master with interest. “Perhaps you'd like to test your skill with the lightsaber.” Three small spheres flew out of the exit hatch, and zooming toward him. Markus whipped the lightsaber out and, before anything happened, chopped the first remote in half with a horizontal swing. The others fired blaster bolts at him, and he moved swiftly, expertly deflecting them. He felt sharp, quick, unnatural, almost as if he knew what would happen before it did, like the bolts went into slow-motion and allowed him to intercept them before reverting back to normal speed.

When the deflected bolts hit their targets, the other remotes retreated into the ship. Markus turned to HK angrily and said, “ What the hell was that for?”

“Relax, master. They only fired weak stun bolts. You did remarkably well for your first time.”

Markus felt the distinct feel of the lightsaber, the weightless blade moving without hesitation as he waved it. Although it was only practice, he felt the fear at the sudden attack, then the confidence of battle as he deflected the shots, and then the triumph of victory. He shut off the lightsaber, the blade descending into the hilt. “Thanks.” he said as he went to practice another new skill. “I think I needed that after all.”

Over the course of several hours, Markus spent the time learning new force powers, most of which he had prior knowledge of, making the self-teaching process quick and easy. He was incredibly intrigued by how fast his mastery spread through the core powers, and he felt that these skills would become very useful soon.


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As soon as he knew his grandparents were asleep, Littlefoot crept from his sleeping spot and meandered his way south, to the Dark Forest. He had a feeling that morning that something was wrong, after that dream, and the hole in the sky and the"giant flying rock"everyone was talking about only strengthened his resolution to find out what was going on. He walked for what seemed like hours,past bent old trees and moss-covered logs. He wondered if maybe Cera was right, that dreams were just dreams, and the events that happened were just phenomenon. He was about to give up,when something caught his eye. In the distance, he saw a strange light. His spirits lifted, and he ran to the light. He stopped at the edge of the clearing to see the strange structure lit up by dots on the bottom, along with three unusual figures at it's base.

"You sure that was the only thing wrong?" one of them spoke.

"Yes, with the engines at least. I still have to realign the sensor and communications module." another voice answered. Littlefoot heard a whistling sound and saw that a short, round object with lights on it was moving.

"Yes I'm sure, you irritating little trash receptacle. Why wouldn't I be?" the second one answered it, its voice sounding aggravated.

One of them must be him, the young longneck thought as he watched them, the strange beings using their weird flashing sticks to probe the inside of the structure. He was about to move in for a closer look, but before he could, he heard a twig snap behind him. Looking behind him, he saw a sickle-toed sharptooth with its claws bared, ready to pounce on him!

"Aaahhhhh!" he yelled as he ducked, sending the raptor sprawling and getting the group's attention. He ran out into the clearing, towards the group, seeking refuge. As he approached, the bronze one that walked on two legs and had arms picked up a gray stick and pointed it at him. But instead of attacking him, a red bolt of light shot out from it's tip and blasted the now-recovered raptor behind him. It burned a bright orange a hole in the raptor's chest, and the animal flew backward, crashing to the ground.

Then the bronze being resumed to pointing the stick at him in a combat stance. But before it did anything, a creature with tan, white, and blue skin, with black hair on it's head that also had two arms and legs pulled the stick down.

"Relax, it's not a predator." it said calmly, looking at the terrified Littlefoot with a strange curiosity.

"How are you so sure, Master? It could be anything. Why don't I kill it for you?" the other said, still holding the gray stick. The round thing warbled in what sounded like a questioning tone.

"Well, creatures that looked like these lived on my homeworld in its distant past.” the creature responded, pointing at Littlefoot, who didn't dare move, despite his own curiosity. “ This particular species looks like a Brontosaurus."

Before Littlefoot could ask any questions, a dozen more raptors jumped from the brush, claws extended, drawn by the sound of the fire-shooting stick. The bronze one hit a flat light on the side of the structure, and the thin piece of metal on the bottom was retracted inside of it. As the carnivores closed in, the two-legged one reached into a fold of skin on it's leg and pulled out a small silver cylinder. Moving his thumb over a black stud on the side, he activated the strange object, and a cyan blade shot out with a snap-hiss.

That's him! Littlefoot thought excitedly as it walked out into the clearing, holding the blade. A raptor pounced, leaping forward and he cleaved it in two as it flew through the air. Another followed suit, and he sidestepped left as he chopped it's head off. The bronze one gave cover fire with the gray stick, striking down sharptooth after sharptooth, though the blue bladed one was holding its own against them, now on an all out offensive, running up and hacking through the sickle-claws like they were nothing. The blade hummed as it moved through the air and gave off a hiss as it cut through the flesh Strangely enough, Littlefoot noticed there was no blood on the wounds, and only a burning smell was left hanging in the air. When the fight was finished, the being exhaled slowly, and the blade retracted with another hiss. It walked back towards them, grinning. "How was that for experience?" he asked, satisfied with the chance to use his skills.

"Excellent." the bronze one said. "However, I advise we figure out a way to deal with this." it said, gesturing towards Littlefoot with its fire-shooting stick. The other seemed to study him closely, taking in his four and a half foot height and long neck with a strange curiosity.

"If we can follow it, perhaps it could lead us out of this place, maybe help us find civilization." he replied, his eyes lighting up as he looked over Littlefoot with a strange curiosity.

"Not really," Littlefoot finally replied, his curiosity about the strange beings getting the best of him."I've never been in this far."

"What the-!" Markus stopped mid-sentence as he backpedaled and tripped on a stone, falling onto his back, obviously startled at the creature's ability to speak.

"Pardon me, master, but I believe this meatbag can actually communicate." HK informed the human, equally surprised but still managing his characteristic deadpan. R3 gave a high shrill and lurched backward in surprise.

"But how?" Markus asked as he picked himself up, fearful that his mind was playing tricks on him. I've got to be freaking insane!

"Easy. I talk just like you do." Littlefoot said in confusion, not seeing the problem."What's your name?"

"Markus." Markus answered,still startled. He noticed Littlefoot's confused expression."It's just that, where I'm from, dinosaurs don't talk." he tried to explain, then paused."What's your name?" he asked, now interested in perhaps acquiring another helpful ally in what ever strange world he was in.

"I'm Littlefoot." Littlefoot smiled. He was right after all. The being was friendly, and now he had no doubt that this was the one his mother had told him about.

"Good to meet you Littlefoot. This is HK-47 and R3-M4."the human said, indicating the droids, who looked at him, but did not respond.

"Hi." Littlefoot greeted them, wondering where they got such weird names. Just then, an ever larger wave of raptors appeared, forming a huge semi-circle around the group. The wave, which seemed to number in the twenties or thirties, seemed to be led by an aggressive white scaled raptor, who seemed most eager to attack. HK opened fire immediately, but most of his potential targets kept sidestepping his shots, much to the droid's chagrin.

"Don't suppose you'd know a way out of this?" Markus asked Littlefoot as the raptors closed in, gripping his lightsaber tightly in fear of the approaching meat-eaters.

“We can head back to the valley! It's safe there!" Littlefoot answered quickly, backing up simultaneously with Markus.

"Which way?" Markus asked quickly, at that point not caring where he was going.

"I think it's behind us!" Littlefoot barely waited for the human to finish his sentence before answering, his fear at the advancing sharpteeth growing by the second.

"Well then," Markus said as he backed up another step, glancing back at the raptors. "I think now would be a great time for us to RUN!"

The group turned around and ran as fast as they could, raptors snapping at their heels. R3, having already calculated that he would not be able to keep up with the group, activated his zero-g jets. The nozzles opened outward and burned a bright blue as the droid rose into the air and flew after the group. Occasionally, HK would fire a volley of blaster bolts at the raptors, but this did little to deter them, and mostly just made the chase noisier.

They ran until Littlefoot, who was in front, tripped over a small rock at the top of a hill. Not watching where he was going, Markus slammed into him and they both rolled down the hill, Markus cursing each time he hit the ground. HK followed on his feet,as he had slowed down before the hill. R3 finally caught up with them and landed beside them. After they got up and brushed themselves off, they noticed the raptors were no longer following. "Come on," Littlefoot urged as they got to their feet, turning towards the direction of the Great Valley."the Bright Circle is almost up."

"Huh?" Markus asked, not understanding the dinosaur's terminology. At the human's question, Littlefoot turned around and looked at him quizzically.

"You don't know about the Bright Circle?" Littlefoot was stunned that Markus had apparently never seen or heard of it."You know, the big, bright circle in the sky?"

It took Markus a moment to realize what the young longneck meant. "Oh, I get it! You call that the sun." Markus felt a little embarrassed for not seeing the connection, as it seemed obvious in hindsight. "I guess we have different names for things."

At about that time the group finally emerged from the Dark Forest, and were greeted by a lush, green, fertile valley, with meadows and tree and even a river running through it, with the sun shining bright overhead. "Wow! This is where you live?" Markus asked, utterly amazed at the landscape's beauty. Since he had spent most of his life in cities, this kind of landscape was completely foreign to him. "It's...incredible!"

"Yeah, I know." Littlefoot blushed at the comment. If I had a treestar for every time someone said that... he thought.

Just then, an aged voice called out Littlefoot's name. “Littlefoot!” the male voice rang out, echoing across the land

"Is someone calling you, Littlefoot?" Markus asked, wondering who or what it was that was addressing the dinosaur.

"That's Grandpa!” Littlefoot realized, instinctively heading over to answer his grandfather's call. “Come on!" the longneck said as he lead Markus and the two droids through the meadow to his waiting grandfather. Markus and the droids followed, and Markus wondered to himself just how crazy his day was going to get.


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The looming specter of the gas giant Yavin was beginning to retreat from the sky by late afternoon, the sun not far behind it. Yavin Four's jungles already clamored with anticipation at the coming of nightfall, and it seemed that the only place on the planet that wasn't completely overrun with howling animals and chirping insects was the Great Massassi Temple, a huge stone construct that had been built by the ancient Sith species under the rule of Exar Kun nearly four thousand years before its use as a Rebel base nearly twenty-four years prior. It was this base that Luke Skywalker had protected when he destroyed the Death Star. While it had been evacuated shortly thereafter, nearly eleven years later it had once again come back onto the galactic map, as the official Jedi Academy of Skywalker's new cadre of Jedi Knights.

After the Battle of Endor and the death of his father, Anakin Skywalker, Luke had continued his role in the New Republic's freedom fight, with the New Republic being the official government of the Rebel Alliance. Over time, however, his focus changed from military conquest to the reestablishment of the Jedi, and numerous encounters with other Force-sensitive beings only strengthened his resolve. The years leading up to the creation of the Academy had been one trial after another. The Empire simply had not wanted to die, and that resolve showed itself in its various firebrand leaders over the years.

First there had been Ysanne Isard, head of Imperial Intelligence. She took control of the early post-Endor Empire and fought a vicious and cutthroat war with the New Republic, and its famed Rogue Squadron X-wing unit in particular, unleashing the Krytos plague on Coruscant and using her Super Star Destroyer Lusankya to take control of the galaxy's supply of the healing medicine bacta. She faked her own death in the Battle of Coruscant and evaded her enemies for many years, but she was finally killed after the defeat of Warlord Zsinj on the bridge of her captured Super Star Destroyer, and she had faded away into history. Next there had been Grand Admiral Thrawn, who, with his genius and cloning technology, not to mention the assistance of the mad Jedi Joruus C'Boath, had nearly brought the New Republic to its knees, and his reign had only been stopped through his assassination at the hands of one of his bodyguards, who discovered Thrawn was fooling his species into serving as the Empire's personal assassins.

The worst of the Imperial resurgences, in Luke's mind, was the resurrected Emperor Palpatine. The Emperor, using his incredible knowledge of the dark side of the Force, had preserved his spirit after his first death at Endor, and had taken a long and harrowing journey to his secret base on the Deep Core world of Byss. Here, he entered one of his cloned bodies that was waiting for him, and slowly began to contact Imperial Remnant forces. By the time he struck, the New Republic was caught completely offguard. Utilizing a new Super Star Destroyer featuring a built-in superlaser, the Eclipse, the reborn Emperor launched a devastating offensive on the rest of the galaxy, first moving in to briefly retake Coruscant, capturing Luke in the process. It was then that Luke made one of his worst mistakes; believing he could undermine Palpatine's new Empire from within, he knelt before the Dark Lord and pledged him his service.

What followed was nothing short of a massacre. Palpatine, with Luke at his side, launched a brutal assault on the oceanic world of Mon Calamari. Using his newest superweapons, the World Devastators, devices that tore through a planet's crust and used it's minerals to construct fleets of droid TIE fighters, the Sith Lord brutally destroyed several of the planet's floating cities. Although Luke was eventually able to give R2-D2 the self-destruct codes for the huge war machines, his mind had become clouded by the dark side. Even as he was sabotaging Palpatine's empire, he was actually playing into the Emperor's hands. During a failed assassination attempt in which Luke tried to destroy all of Palpatine's clones, the Dark Lord engaged and defeated Skywalker in a lightsaber duel, then forced Skywalker to accompany him to the temporary head of the New Republic, Pinnacle Base, where Palpatine would use the Eclipse to destroy the stronghold. When the Eclipseentered the system, however, Leia was able to board the massive flagship. Together, Luke and Leia battled the Emperor, who used his powers to create a devastating Force Storm. Using their combined power, Luke and Leia were able to cause Palpatine to lose control of the storm, and they escaped just as the Force Storm consumed the Eclipse.

This was not the end of the Palpatine resurgence, however. Palpatine was able to reach the last of his cloned bodies and, using his secondary flagship Eclipse II and the new superweapon known as the Galaxy Gun, Palpatine threatened the galaxy once again. Palpatine's reconquest could not continue because of one undeniable flaw in his plans: he was dying. His last clone body was failing him, and he realized that he would new a new, Force-strong body to continue. Palpatine in his new clone body then took his new flagship,to Onderon to claim the body of young Anakin Solo, Han and Leia's third child. Luke and his Jedi companions boarded the ship, but Palpatine was gone. R2-D2 then sent the ship on a collision course with the Galaxy Gun. Meanwhile, Palpatine found Leia and Han on the surface, but Luke and his companions, including an old Jedi named Empatojayos Brand arrived there to aid them. A vicious battle ensued, which left Brand mortally wounded. However, Han Solo was able to shoot Palpatine in the back. As his dark spirit flew towards Anakin in a final attempt at life, Brand clasped it with his own and took the menace of Palpatine with him to his death.

Since then there had been several more battles and resurgences, but Luke had finally been able to accomplish his goal: the restoration of the Jedi Order. Slow in developing, it existed for a number of years as a disparate group of Force-sensitives with various degrees of training. Eleven years after Yavin, however, Luke initiated the first formal training school for Jedi in decades, the Jedi Academy on Yavin 4. Starting with an initial group of 12 students, the Order slowly grew in numbers and stature, becoming a core part of the New Republic that sponsored it. This meant it was repeatedly targeted by enemies of the Republic, such as Imperial Admiral Daala, the Empire Reborn, and the Second Imperium. Members of the order were involved in many of the key conflicts in the galaxy, including Operation Shadow Hand, the Black Fleet Crisis and the Corellian Insurrection.

At this particular moment, Luke was busy training a group of teenaged Jedi in the art of lightsaber combat, his sister's twins and his niece and nephew Jaina and Jacen Solo among them. While he couldn't always be at the academy, he spent as much time as possible training the apprentices. He smiled as he watched them block stun bolts from training remotes while wearing a blast shield helmet, the same exercise Obi-Wan Kenobi had taught him on the Millennium Falcon. He sighed, wishing Obi-Wan were there now, helping him to train all of these anxious apprentices. He'd set up the Academy over thirteen years before, and his original class of 12 had turned into dozens of new trainees, the first students becoming their teachers.

This class, like many others, was mixed. While the older students, like Jacen, Jaina, and their friends were already fairly proficient with a lightsaber, some of the newer students were just learning. And while some might have considered the setup confusing, it was actually very beneficial to both parties, as the newer students could benefit from the experience of the others, and the older students could gain valuable experience in training others in the Force. When the students were finished, he addressed them before they went off to their next class.

"Your performance today was impressive," the Jedi Master began as he eyed each of them individually, pride instinctively swelling in him. "and I'm seeing great progress from-" Luke stopped speaking abruptly as he put a hand on his forehead, a troubling feeling sweeping over him. Some of the students gasped in surprise, and Lowbacca, Chewbacca's Jedi nephew and Jacen and Jaina's good friend, woofed a concerned question at him, concern evident in the Wookie's tone.

"Are you alright, Master Skywalker?" Tenel Ka, another friend of the twins and heir to the Hapan Cluster throne, watched him, the one-armed girl equally worried about the Jedi Master's sudden lapse.

"I sense a disturbance in the force." Luke managed to say, his hand still on his forehead, the strange premonition-like feeling still coarsing through him.

"What is it?" asked Jacen, the teen wondering why he hadn't experienced it himself. “Some sort of danger?”

Luke paused before answering his nephew, trying to sort through his thoughts. "I don't know. It felt so far away, like something, somewhere, is out of place." he answered, lowering his hand and standing up to his full height, confusion swelling within him. What was that?

"That explains why we didn't feel it." Jaina added, wondering what it was that had her uncle so distressed. "We aren't as strong as you yet. We might not be able to sense something that far away."

Luke was silent for a moment, then abruptly ended the class"Contact Coruscant and tell them to watch for any unusual activity. And get your mother on the Holonet in my quarters." Luke instructed as he walked out of the classroom and towards his room, quickly adding as he left,

"Whatever this disturbance is, it needs to be discovered. Class dismissed."

Chapter 2 The rift

The bullets spanged off the wall behind him, one ricocheting and shattering a nearby computer screen. Lucky for him, the American guards had been slow to draw their pistols, and one out of the original three had already gone down by the time the shots were fired. He merely had to shift his aim slightly to the left twice, briefly halting his handgun's barrel on the soldiers' form before pulling the trigger and sending a round through each man's head. The lab was small and cramped, with analytic computers and testing devices lining the walls. Only a workstation placed in the middle of the room had stood between the teenager, who had been dressed in a stolen American Marines uniform, and the three standard army soldiers. The only other person who had been in the room, a scientist who donned a white lab coat that looked immensely clichÈd, was currently cowering behind the table, trying to avoid becoming the unknown assassin's next victim.

The boy, who looked no more than sixteen, stepped over to the scientist's trembling form, casually keeping his aim on the man as he leaned over and began typing commands into an adjacent computer. The scientist finally managed the nerve to speak and asked in a shaky voice, “Who are you? What are you doing?”. He instantly regretted asking the questions, recognizing that the teenager holding the gun probably wasn't going to tell him. He did, however, answer the man.

“No one you need to know, Head of U.S. Army Research and Development Richard P. Andrews.” the teenager said, smirking slightly to himself as he rhythmically tapped the keys, sifting through the data on the screen, all the while keeping a steady aim on the scientist. “Yes,” he continued, stopping to reach into his pocket. “I know who you are, and I've been observing your progress on Project Prometheus. That's why I'm here.” He pulled out a small, unassuming flash drive, the same kind used by regular businessmen to store profit projections and sales figures, and slipped it into the USB port.

“What?” the scientist blurted out, both surprised and afraid at the knowledge the boy possessed. “How could you possibly know-”

“I have my ways.” the teenager cut him off, tapping the enter key and waiting as a loading bar appeared on screen, filling itself quickly with green pixels. “And I also know how the United States paid a generous sum to Andryd Technologies to get a hold of the schematics you've been trying to bring to life. It's for an antimatter reactor, right?” The boy shook his head, chuckling to himself. “What a dangerous piece of technology. Much too dangerous for any one world power.” The progress bar disappeared and suddenly the light and analysis equipment started flashing on and off, everything electronic immediately going haywire. “Alright, I've deleted this base's entire database, including those schematic files. Nothing on the entire premises that's controlled by a computer will operate. Now if you'll excuse me,” he said, slipping out the door just as the lights flicked off. “I've got to get out of here before I'm shot.”

He sprinted down the hallway, out towards the fire exit. The lab had conveniently been placed near the back of the facility, right next to a fire exit. Normally the teenager wouldn't have used a fire exit, mostly because of the alarm that came with it, but since the fire alarms were also controlled by computer, it provided a convenient means of escape. He slipped out the door and found himself just to the left and behind the base's aircraft hangar, the afternoon sun already dipping towards the horizon. He could already tell that his program had done it's job, with American soldiers and officers all running around to each other, trying to figure out exactly what the hell was going on.

He dashed quickly over to the back wall of the hangar, hoping he wasn't spotted in the seven seconds it took him to reach his destination. Once he was safely concealed by the building, he ran towards his planned escape route, a forested area right behind a layer of tall, barbed-wire fencing. Normally security cameras would have alerted the base security of anyone who got remotely close to the wall, but they too were rendered nonfunctional. The teen delved into his pocket as he approached, his gun still clutched in his right hand. Using a pair of simple wire clippers, he was able to quickly chop a decent hole in the fencing, allowing him to slip to the other side and make his escape.

He ran as fast as he could as he dashed through the brush, knowing that they'd find the evidence he left behind soon enough. During the run he ditched the wire cutters as well as the Marines uniform, revealing a simple white T-shirt and jeans underneath. After a few minutes he began to run out of breath, and slowed to a brisk walk as he continued towards his destination.

It was several hours before he emerged from the forest, finding himself on the side of a rural road, with a gas station just to his right, the rest of the landscape dotted with fields and patches of forest. Night had fallen, making the gas station the only visible landmark around. He grinned as he neared his safe haven, making his way up to the driveway, back to the small parking lot, and back to his car, an innocuous Ford Fusion. “Why doesn't he ever let me rent a cool car?” he muttered to himself as he approached. Fishing the key out from his jeans pocket, he wasted no time in jumping into the car, starting it up, and tearing away from the station as fast as he could, only breathing a sigh of relief as he pulled onto the nearby highway. “Well,” he said to himself quietly. “that wasn't so bad.”

The drive to Las Vegas International was mostly uneventful, with only one near miss when a brand-new Mustang came flying off an exit ramp, nearly sideswiping the teen's car. “What the hell, man?” the boy yelled, as though the other driver might hear him. “Frickin' idiot.” he mumbled as the car slowly pulled out of sight.

The teen wasted no time parking the car at the nearby Enterprise, not bothering to run inside to alert any clerks about their vehicle's status. Rather, he simply left the keys on the dash, figuring they'd find it soon enough. Grabbing the one small suitcase he'd brought with him, he quickly stuffed his handgun inside before heading towards the main building, growling, “If those X-rays see this thing...” most of the way there.

He opted against using a manned counter to buy a ticket, instead choosing an automated terminal with a touchscreen, as he figured it would be faster. He was proven wrong, however, as the machine had taken nearly ten minutes to purchase a ticket to London, and on top of everything else said his name rather loudly as he left, drawing more attention than the boy would have liked. “Happy travels, Markus Silverman.” the machine called, it's speech program struggling with his name's syllables.

Markus practically held his breath as he went through security, quietly thanking God when the X-ray missed his handgun, the frame of which was coated in an X-ray absorbing chemical. Still, Markus didn't even think about relaxing until he had finally boarded the plane. He stretched out his legs in his first class seat, quietly mulling over the cost of the accommodations before thinking to himself, Hey, the professor won't mind. And if he does, who cares? After all, I'm the one doing his dirty work. And with that, he leaned back in his seat, closed his eyes, and promptly fell asleep to the roar of the jet taking off into the air.

By the time the plane had landed Markus had manged to catch nearly seven hours of sleep, and the newly reenergized teen headed for the terminal the moment the boarding ramp connected. A quick trip through customs and he was on the London streets, heading directly towards his destination. Markus had always enjoyed the look of the city's streets. They seemed worn yet strong, old yet capable, weathering each day like the tens of thousands that had come before it.

It wasn't long before he arrived at his destination. The seven story building was dark, as it had always been, with only a pewter-colored plaque that read “ Andryd Technologies” giving the place any identity. Markus entered through a door in the nearby alleyway, since the professor didn't want anyone seen entering through the front door, for fear that someone would realize what he was doing. The creation of “forbidden technologies”, as the professor's work was often called, was closely monitored by the nations that did business with him, and none of his clients wanted the public to know of such things.

Markus made his way up the dimly-lit stairwell, stopping at the fourth floor. He walked down the untouched, white-tile hallway to the second door on the left. He opened the door to a modest room, with a bed on one side and a desk on the other. A small dresser stood up against the wall near the bed, and a door in the back of the room led to a small bathroom with a shower cubicle.

Markus tossed the suitcase on bed, preferring not to set it on the already-cluttered desktop. Markus stepped over and sifted through the pile on the desk, stacking together books, videogames, movies, trying to make some room for his computer's monitor and keyboard. He sighed, allowing himself a small grin as he picked up a paperback entitled, Star Wars: Darth Bane: The Rule Of Two. “I've got to finish this thing.” Markus had always had an affinity for stories of any kind, but Star Wars seemed to speak to him the most. He enjoyed its clean concept of good versus evil, even if it wasn't realistic, and enjoyed the idea of other worlds beyond his own. He'd started his obsession as a child, but it had been toned down a bit ever since...

He set it back down as his eyes settled on another object, this time near the corner of his room. A black and white Flying V guitar leaned against the wall, an amp sitting dutifully beside it. He kept his small grin as he recognized a symbol of one of his other hobbies: music. He had grown up listening to bands like AC/DC and the Beatles, and as a kid he'd always dreamed of being a rock star. Even now, he still practiced as much as his occupation would allow. He grabbed a small pick from his desk and picked up the instrument. He tweaked the strings, readying it before he began playing. He'd begun playing only at age nine, but before that he'd been practicing his vocals. He'd only decided to try both after a long thought process that basically ended with, “Why not?”. Granted, he knew he'd probably never play for an audience, but still...

He turned the amp up to a low volume setting before getting into a stance. He sighed deepily before beginning to nod his head to an unseen beat. On the ninth beat he began to play, and the grinding, metallic notes from the electric guitar burst forth from the amp. His fingers nimbly climbed up and down the neck of the guitar, clamping down on the necessary strings as his other hand plucked out the notes. The music was heavy, descending, jumping and descending again as the notes flowed. Markus repeated a sequence twice before he began to sing, “Back in Black! I hit the-”

On the word hit, his hand slipped, and he wound up playing a completely different series of notes than he'd intended. Sighing, he set the instrument back down before heading back to the bathroom, muttering, “I should've known I wouldn't have been able to play a full song after that long...”

After a quick shower and a change of clothes, though he was still wearing a white T-shirt and a pair of jeans, Markus walked back to the stairwell and up to the seventh floor. A sliding door greeted him, opening to reveal a darkened lab much like the one he'd visited just a day ago. Even in the dim conditions Markus could see the professor seated at his desk, beside which a huge, altar-like device stood. Two curved, metallic arms reached up to form a circle about seven feet in diameter. Markus noted the device with a slight sense of awe before turning his attention to the professor.

“Well, I finished your little errand.” he began, allowing frustration and anger to seep into his voice. “I nearly got killed, of course, but what's that to you? Still, the Americans probably don't know what hit 'em, so they probably won't come back here.” He continued, not noticing that the professor failed to respond. “That leaves, what, a dozen more countries I have to hit in order to undo your damage? Maybe you should've thought about the world's balance of power before you sell dangerous technologies to the whole damn planet! And now you're making me do the dirty work! You know, when my dad's will said you'd get custody of me, I guarantee this isn't what he had in mind!”

Markus noticed the professor still wasn't responding. He just sat there, turned away in his chair. Markus' rage increased as he stepped over to the professor, turning his chair toward him and yelling, “Hey, I 'm talking to you! What- Holy shit!” Markus backpedaled fast as he beheld the professor's dead body, a bullet hole freshly bored into his skull. A line of dried blood trickled down his face and onto his lab coat. Markus realized the professor had actually committed suicide only after noticing his cold hand still clutched around a small revolver. Markus stood there, completely dumbfounded and unable to move for a few seconds. When he regained control of himself, he uttered a single, bewildered phrase. “Well, what the hell?”

He then spotted a single handwritten note on the professor's desk, the words crammed onto a single sheet of lined paper. Still shocked, Markus read the hastily scribbled words:

I can no longer ignore and live with the evils I have committed. Rationalization cannot change what I have done. Selling these devices to those whom I knew would use them for their own gain, taking you in only to use you to further my own business endeavors...forcing you to kill in order to rectify my own mistakes...

But no longer. If you have found this note, you have no doubt discovered my body. I know this cannot possibly atone for what I have done, but still...Even with my death, however, my failure will still continue. Once the nations of the world realize that I am dead, and therefore can no longer provide them with the technological advances they crave, they will converge on this building and take anything they can get their hands on, including you. I realize that, even if you leave, they will not stop until they capture you, until they squeeze every last piece of information you contain. That is why my final invention is dedicated to your escape.

You may notice the rather large construct to the left of my desk. While it would take far too long to explain exactly what it does or how it works, it can be summarized as a generator of subspace tears, rifts in space and time. There is only one control, a red button on my desk wired directly to the machine. Now I must ask you to trust me, no matter how difficult or impossible this may sound.

When a rift is generated, I want you to walk into it.

Please, listen to me. I want you to do this quickly, for three reasons. The rift can only be opened for a short time and it cannot generate another, the control also arms a one-minute timer for a bomb that, when the timer reaches zero, will cause the entire building to implode, and this may be the only real way you can hope to escape being imprisoned...or worse. Please, I'm begging you. Leave now, destroy this place. Find a new life, a better life, for yourself. You deserve it.

Markus looked up from the letter, dumbfounded at the sheer insanity of the whole proposal. The problems were obvious. Could he even survive going through a rift in the very fabric of the universe? The professor seemed to think he could, but even if he did survive, where would he end up? Could he even survive wherever this rift decided to dump him off? Still, the idea of being imprisoned or possibly tortured and killed at the hands of some government didn't appeal to him, either.

“Okay,” he muttered to himself, trying to collect his thoughts. “you can do this. Just press the red button, jump into this rift thing, and just go with it.” He briefly wondered if he should take anything with him, then decided against it. “Besides,” he continued, stepping toward the ominous red button on the desk. “who's to say I'm not gonna die before I have a chance to do anything?” He smirked a little at his own grim humor before raising his hand over the button and slapping it down.

The generator suddenly sprang to life. A white light flashed into existence and immediately filled the diameter of the circular gateway. Markus' eyes widened in shock as he felt a slight suction coming from the device as air began entering the rift. His body was frozen in terror at the incredible sight, but something, perhaps the mentioned instability of the rift or the fact that a bomb was about to go off, urged him forward. He closed his eyes and charged forward, yelling at the top of his lungs in sheer terror as he plunged into the white light, leaving his world, and everything he knew, behind.

Markus didn't know what to expect when he entered the rift. Still, it did come as a complete surprise when he suddenly landed on his face. Crying out at gravity's sudden direction change, it took a moment for him to realize that not only was he still alive, he could breath and that he had hit something cold and smooth...something metal.

Markus picked himself up, shaking his head to remove his feeling of dizziness. “That was weird.” he mumbled to himself, referring to the sudden change in gravity. When he managed to concentrate on his surroundings, however, his mind was completely blown. He was in a hallway, with the ceiling, floor and walls composed entirely of a grayish metal. Behind him, the hallway branched out to a larger room, but in front of him the hallway only continued for a few feet, up to a small, lit-up room. The area seemed to hum and vibrate slightly, and Markus reasoned they were probably the effects of some sort of appliance. Before he could even utter a “What the hell?”, however, the entire hallway shook, as if something had impacted whatever he was in. Markus was thrown against the wall, and, despite being shocked at his improbable situation, ran up to the smaller room, hoping to find some answers as to where exactly he was.

The small lit-up room turned out to be a cockpit, with four control stations arranged in a square pattern. Each station featured rows of computer displays and controls, the sheer number of them threatening to overload Markus' senses. A large rectangular window stretched from the front of the squarish cockpit and tapered off at the sides, allowing good visibility of the surround area. Despite the complete confusion Markus was feeling, he couldn't help but notice that the room seemed strangely familiar. All of his wonderings were smashed when he looked out the window. Markus now knew he was in some sort of aerial vehicle, moving at a reasonably high speed. He could see a greenish landscape outside, and he would have stopped to admire it were it not headed straight at it, the ground rushing up to hit the plummeting craft.

Markus said nothing as he jumped into the left-front seat, didn't even cry out as he tried to utilize the complicated controls which, if only Markus had slowed down enough to notice, were labeled in English. The ground came closer and closer, and just as Markus pulled up what looked like a control stick, the craft dipped low enough that tree branches began impacting against it, snapping off under the craft's weight and velocity. The craft skimmed over the tree line, with Markus frantically trying to find some way to stop the machine. He managed to jab a switch labeled “landing cycle” just as the tree line gave way to a small clearing.

The craft suddenly dipped and settled into the clearing, setting down with a thud. Then, before Markus even had a chance to breathe a sigh of relief, a feeling of extreme fatigue came over him, and he fell into unconsciousness, his body going limp in the seat.

This story's freakin awesome, man! Hope to see more.