Dave Wong
9th March 2006, 08:30 AM
Disclaimer: Star Wars - Jedi Knight: Jedi Academy
belongs to Lucas Arts. Ranma 1/2 belongs to Rumiko
Takahashi and Viz Video.
The Jedi of Chaos
A Star Wars-Jedi Knight: Jedi Academy/Ranma 1.5
crossover, stirred thoroughly
Ranmaverse timeline doesn't exist, as this is a
merging of the two universes...
For Star Wars, this fic takes place eleven years after
Return of the Jedi
Prologue
Arrival
A New Republic shuttlecraft travelled through the
silent void of space towards the planet Yavin.
"We'll be arriving at the Academy in just a few
minutes."
At the pilot's announcement, several of the passengers
let out sighs of relief at the news that the flight
was almost over. Eleven in number, they had since
resigned themselves to a sixteen hour long, eventless
flight.
Twenty year old Rosh Penin visibly perked up at
hearing the news. Lean and fit, with thin shoulders
and his head adorned with a fresh military crewcut, he
had at least one thing in common with the rest of his
fellow passengers; the luck of being born Force
sensitive and being selected to be trained at the Jedi
Academy on Yavin 4.
Speaking of his fellow passengers, Rosh was one of the
four humans aboard. There were three female Twi-leks,
two of whom seemed to be a couple, judging by their
close snuggling and contented appearance together,
while the third sat far away from them, as if
disgusted by their actions. A single Rodian who, in
Rosh's opinion, looked suspiciously homesick. Two
Kel-dor males, whose lower halves of their faces
looked like a flattened black-colored crab had decided
to take up permanent residency there. A female Zabrak
who seemed a little lost and was staring off into
space.
When Luke Skywalker first concieved of the idea for
rebuilding the Jedi Order, he had undergone thorough
and exhaustive research in order to direct his search
for potential disciples. In the process of doing so,
the Jedi Master had come across an Imperial
Intelligence device used in helping to find the
remnants of the old Jedi Order by scanning an
individual to find out if they possessed an affinity
for the Force. With the cooperation of the New
Republic, Skywalker had incorporated it within the
Military Academy's enrollment.
Rosh himself couldn't believe the sharp turn his life
had been dealt. Just last month, he'd gone from his
home to the New Republic Military Academy in order to
apply for admission. In the process of doing so, he
had to take a number of tests, aptitude, physical,
intelligence, among others. A recent addition to
those tests included testing for an affinity for the
Force.
That was when Rosh had been discovered to have a
dormant, yet substantial Force potential. It was
something about himself he never knew about, much less
suspected. But then again as he'd looked over his
life, he supposed that there were many subtle clues
but he'd either ignored or misinterpreted them
entirely.
Even as a child, Rosh had incredibly quick reflexes
and he found himself, as he grew older, that he was
incredibly perceptive and intuitive. He'd always
could somehow tell when a person was twisting the
truth or outright lying to him. Hidden meanings and
the subtle nuances of body language required a little
bit more work, but experience soon made interpreting
them as easy as spitting.
It had come as quite a shock to discover that he
possessed the potential to become a Jedi, just like
the galaxy famous Luke Skywalker. Truth to be told,
it had been sort of a childhood fantasy that he
eventually grew out of. But now it was reality, his
reality, and he'd adapted pretty well, to his
thinking. After giving the offer some serious
consideration, Rosh had accepted, and now, three weeks
later, he found himself where he was now, on the way
to the Jedi Academy on Yavin IV.
"That would be so great," Rosh commented. "I've been
going stir-crazy over here! Make it quick, will ya?"
He yawned and stretched, wincing as he worked out the
kinks in his spine. During the flight he had
attempted to get some sleep, but unfortunately he'd
failed in doing so. The damn shuttlecraft was one of
the older models; the seats weren't reclinable, their
padding was nearly worn out, the buffers that were
supposed to muffle the roaring sounds produced by the
engines were only functioning at fifty percent...
These were only just a few examples of the various
annoying inconveniences and nuisances that Rosh found
very aggravating.
Despite the fact that their ride was almost over, and
having nothing better to do, Rosh started muttering
and complaining about the unfairness of it all, that
the New Republic should've at least provided their
future Jedi Knights with a more far classier ride then
this old heap. He managed to work himself up with
righteous indignation when until a voice snapped him
out of it.
"Hey."
"Yeah?"
Penin been so caught up in his complaining that his
response had been automatic and said in a rather
distracted manner. He didn't even look at the person
who had addressed him. However, a moment later, all
that changed.
"Shut up."
It was spoken in a louder, harsher tone and this time,
it didn't fail to catch Rosh's complete attention.
Blinking in confusion, Rosh looked to his right. The
person who had rudely interrupted his rant was the guy
who sat with Rosh in the same row, though at the other
end. Rosh estimated his neighbor to be around his
age, and he was dressed in a brown leather jacket, a
long sleeved gray tunic, and dark brown pants with
knee high black boots. Sporting a short ponytail,
Rosh's neighbor was also regarding him with an
unreadable look.
Rosh opened his mouth for an equally blunt comeback,
but something about the other boy caused him to
swallow his words. At, first, he wasn't sure what it
was, then he raised to meet the other boy's gaze, he
felt a chill run up his spine.
His eyes. It wasn't the color of the eyes that so
effectively silenced Rosh, rather it was the chilling,
almost challenging stare emanating from them.
Never before had Rosh never experienced such lack of
feeling, nor such an icy cold demeanor before. The
young Penin somehow felt that if those eyes were a
weapon, he would be a human popsicle by now. Held
fast by the other boy's stare, Rosh's mouth suddenly
became dry and queasy as he abruptly realized that
those eyes were sizing him up, calculating his threat
potential as it were, and coming up with the best way
of....neutralizing him should the situation call for
it.
Then, in a blink of an eye later, his ice-cold-eyed
neighbor seemed to dismiss him and casually looked
away. With the spell broken, Rosh blinked twice and
stared down at his lap, feeling confused and
embarrassed. Unsure about the wisdom of locking gazes
again, he warily eyed the other boy who seemed to be
ignoring him. In the process of doing so, Rosh saw
something that caught his interest, something that
escaped his notice before. Partially hidden by the
armrests and attached to the other boy's belt by a
thin leather strap was what seemed to be a lightsaber.
Or was it?
Rosh straightened up from his slouch and craned his
neck, giving it a closer look. After a moment, he had
to conclude that it did vaguely resemble Luke
Skywalker's lightsaber in the holo-news, if only in
length (around fourteen inches) and diameter (an inch
and a half). It also looked, for the lack of a better
term, brand-new, though Rosh knew lightsabers were
bordering on highly valuable antique items for the
common citizen; it wasn't as if there were factories
somewhere mass producing them. Rosh had no idea if it
meant that this guy made it himself recently or it was
a fake, though he half suspected it was the genuine
article. Jedi training was serious stuff, and to be
selected for it was considered an honor; in Rosh's
opinion, someone had to be a complete idiot or a
complete fool to forge a lightsaber in hopes of
impressing a Jedi Master.
Suddenly forgetting that he was supposed to be wary of
his neighbor, Rosh blurted out the first thing that
came to mind. "Does that work?" he asked, pointing at
the item in question.
Without even looking at him, the other boy's mouth
curled up into the slightest of smirks and said, "None
of your business."
Rosh's curiosity transformed into irritation, along
with some anger backing it up. What a punk, he
thought. Narrowing his eyes, he asked, "Come on,
seriously. Is that for real or not?"
Without changing his tone, the other boy repeated his
answer. "I said, none of your business."
Taken aback, Rosh glared at him for a moment, then
slowly nodded. Having grown up in a close knit
community, he simply wasn't used to meeting someone
who was as brusque and rude as this guy. Well, it
wasn't like he couldn't live without conversation so
Rosh shrugged his shoulders and made a mental note to
avoid further interaction
with him in the future.
"Rancor bait," he muttered under his breath, looking
off in the opposite direction and left it at that.
Whether his neighbor heard or not was soon rendered
moot when two things happened.
The pilot announced that they were just about to enter
Yavin's atmosphere. He was about to say something
else when a yell from the back of the shuttlecraft
quite effectively interrupted him. As loud as the cry
was, it was the content that really made an impact on
everyone concerned.
"EVERYBODY, HOLD ON TO SOMETHING!! WE'RE GOING TO BE
HIT!!"
For one long momentm, there was silence as everyone
else absorbed the seemingly ridiculous statement.
Then came the staring eyes and gaping mouths
(including the pilot) as they regarded the lunatic
who, without any reason to, would just go shouting
nonsense at the top of her lungs.
The lunatic in question turned out to be the only
human female, an attractive red-haired young woman,
whose face was a mask of shock, anxiety, and urgent
fear. Before anyone else could say a single word
more, her warning soon proved itself accurate as
shuttle suddenly shuddered and rocked violently.
People who were standing fell down or slammed hard
into the walls or against each other.
Confusion and panic soon ensued.
The ceiling lights flickered.
The uneventful ride had suddenly transformed into a
turbulent dive headed straight to hell.
Calling for everyone to strap themselves in, the pilot
gripped the flightstick in a deathgrip and desperately
attempted to bring the craft under some semblance of
control. His hopes, faint to begin with, were nearly
shattered when another impact, one much fiercer than
the first, struck at the rear of the shuttle and
caused a minor explosion to go off.
By the way the rocking increased tenfold, the pilot
realized immediately that the blast, whatever it was,
had struck and destroyed one of the sublight engines.
Alarmed, but with a discipline that came with age and
experience, he quelled the panic that threatened to
overwhelm him. He knew that he was the only thing
standing between them and death.
Reacting quickly, the pilot switched off all the
engines, then activated the emergency landing
thrusters. Hoping that his passengers were still able
to follow his instructions, he repeated his warning
for them to secure themselves. Then he blanked out
everything else not related to the inevitable crash
landing; he would need his entire concentration for
the task at hand.
As far as he was concerned, whether or not they would
survive would depend on luck, skill, and the Force.
/****************/
On top of a Massassi temple, three figures cloaked in
black, their identities hidden by raised hoods,
watched in varying degrees of satisfaction as the
battered shuttlecraft coasted downward on an
increasingly erratic trajectory and leaking smoke from
the destroyed engine. The shapely curves clearly
indicated that they were of the female persuasion.
All three were of different heights, and the tallest
one had two distinctively red Twi'lek lekku sprouting
from two holes cut in the back of her hood.
The leader nodded as she lowered a long, ancient
looking sceptre, which was as long as she was tall,
and spoke a single word.
"Go."
Knowing completely what was expected of them, the two
other women bowed to her and then went to the stairs
that led back to the ground. The distraction had
already been dealt; all that remained was to finish
two simple tasks and their mission would be
accomplished. As they quickly but gracefully
descended, a small wind suddenly kicked up and
momentarily blew back the lower portion of their
robes.
Revealing two black and red painted lightsabers.
/****************
Started: I forgot
Completed: March 08, 2006
Corrected and Edited: TBA
Author's Notes:
Well, there it is. The beginning of the rewrite of
the Jedi of Chaos. Began it in Wordpad, then finished
it off in Notepad, and then ran it through a text
formatter in an attempt to completely avoid those
nasty Ms-Word problems. Let me know if it worked.
__________________________________________________
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belongs to Lucas Arts. Ranma 1/2 belongs to Rumiko
Takahashi and Viz Video.
The Jedi of Chaos
A Star Wars-Jedi Knight: Jedi Academy/Ranma 1.5
crossover, stirred thoroughly
Ranmaverse timeline doesn't exist, as this is a
merging of the two universes...
For Star Wars, this fic takes place eleven years after
Return of the Jedi
Prologue
Arrival
A New Republic shuttlecraft travelled through the
silent void of space towards the planet Yavin.
"We'll be arriving at the Academy in just a few
minutes."
At the pilot's announcement, several of the passengers
let out sighs of relief at the news that the flight
was almost over. Eleven in number, they had since
resigned themselves to a sixteen hour long, eventless
flight.
Twenty year old Rosh Penin visibly perked up at
hearing the news. Lean and fit, with thin shoulders
and his head adorned with a fresh military crewcut, he
had at least one thing in common with the rest of his
fellow passengers; the luck of being born Force
sensitive and being selected to be trained at the Jedi
Academy on Yavin 4.
Speaking of his fellow passengers, Rosh was one of the
four humans aboard. There were three female Twi-leks,
two of whom seemed to be a couple, judging by their
close snuggling and contented appearance together,
while the third sat far away from them, as if
disgusted by their actions. A single Rodian who, in
Rosh's opinion, looked suspiciously homesick. Two
Kel-dor males, whose lower halves of their faces
looked like a flattened black-colored crab had decided
to take up permanent residency there. A female Zabrak
who seemed a little lost and was staring off into
space.
When Luke Skywalker first concieved of the idea for
rebuilding the Jedi Order, he had undergone thorough
and exhaustive research in order to direct his search
for potential disciples. In the process of doing so,
the Jedi Master had come across an Imperial
Intelligence device used in helping to find the
remnants of the old Jedi Order by scanning an
individual to find out if they possessed an affinity
for the Force. With the cooperation of the New
Republic, Skywalker had incorporated it within the
Military Academy's enrollment.
Rosh himself couldn't believe the sharp turn his life
had been dealt. Just last month, he'd gone from his
home to the New Republic Military Academy in order to
apply for admission. In the process of doing so, he
had to take a number of tests, aptitude, physical,
intelligence, among others. A recent addition to
those tests included testing for an affinity for the
Force.
That was when Rosh had been discovered to have a
dormant, yet substantial Force potential. It was
something about himself he never knew about, much less
suspected. But then again as he'd looked over his
life, he supposed that there were many subtle clues
but he'd either ignored or misinterpreted them
entirely.
Even as a child, Rosh had incredibly quick reflexes
and he found himself, as he grew older, that he was
incredibly perceptive and intuitive. He'd always
could somehow tell when a person was twisting the
truth or outright lying to him. Hidden meanings and
the subtle nuances of body language required a little
bit more work, but experience soon made interpreting
them as easy as spitting.
It had come as quite a shock to discover that he
possessed the potential to become a Jedi, just like
the galaxy famous Luke Skywalker. Truth to be told,
it had been sort of a childhood fantasy that he
eventually grew out of. But now it was reality, his
reality, and he'd adapted pretty well, to his
thinking. After giving the offer some serious
consideration, Rosh had accepted, and now, three weeks
later, he found himself where he was now, on the way
to the Jedi Academy on Yavin IV.
"That would be so great," Rosh commented. "I've been
going stir-crazy over here! Make it quick, will ya?"
He yawned and stretched, wincing as he worked out the
kinks in his spine. During the flight he had
attempted to get some sleep, but unfortunately he'd
failed in doing so. The damn shuttlecraft was one of
the older models; the seats weren't reclinable, their
padding was nearly worn out, the buffers that were
supposed to muffle the roaring sounds produced by the
engines were only functioning at fifty percent...
These were only just a few examples of the various
annoying inconveniences and nuisances that Rosh found
very aggravating.
Despite the fact that their ride was almost over, and
having nothing better to do, Rosh started muttering
and complaining about the unfairness of it all, that
the New Republic should've at least provided their
future Jedi Knights with a more far classier ride then
this old heap. He managed to work himself up with
righteous indignation when until a voice snapped him
out of it.
"Hey."
"Yeah?"
Penin been so caught up in his complaining that his
response had been automatic and said in a rather
distracted manner. He didn't even look at the person
who had addressed him. However, a moment later, all
that changed.
"Shut up."
It was spoken in a louder, harsher tone and this time,
it didn't fail to catch Rosh's complete attention.
Blinking in confusion, Rosh looked to his right. The
person who had rudely interrupted his rant was the guy
who sat with Rosh in the same row, though at the other
end. Rosh estimated his neighbor to be around his
age, and he was dressed in a brown leather jacket, a
long sleeved gray tunic, and dark brown pants with
knee high black boots. Sporting a short ponytail,
Rosh's neighbor was also regarding him with an
unreadable look.
Rosh opened his mouth for an equally blunt comeback,
but something about the other boy caused him to
swallow his words. At, first, he wasn't sure what it
was, then he raised to meet the other boy's gaze, he
felt a chill run up his spine.
His eyes. It wasn't the color of the eyes that so
effectively silenced Rosh, rather it was the chilling,
almost challenging stare emanating from them.
Never before had Rosh never experienced such lack of
feeling, nor such an icy cold demeanor before. The
young Penin somehow felt that if those eyes were a
weapon, he would be a human popsicle by now. Held
fast by the other boy's stare, Rosh's mouth suddenly
became dry and queasy as he abruptly realized that
those eyes were sizing him up, calculating his threat
potential as it were, and coming up with the best way
of....neutralizing him should the situation call for
it.
Then, in a blink of an eye later, his ice-cold-eyed
neighbor seemed to dismiss him and casually looked
away. With the spell broken, Rosh blinked twice and
stared down at his lap, feeling confused and
embarrassed. Unsure about the wisdom of locking gazes
again, he warily eyed the other boy who seemed to be
ignoring him. In the process of doing so, Rosh saw
something that caught his interest, something that
escaped his notice before. Partially hidden by the
armrests and attached to the other boy's belt by a
thin leather strap was what seemed to be a lightsaber.
Or was it?
Rosh straightened up from his slouch and craned his
neck, giving it a closer look. After a moment, he had
to conclude that it did vaguely resemble Luke
Skywalker's lightsaber in the holo-news, if only in
length (around fourteen inches) and diameter (an inch
and a half). It also looked, for the lack of a better
term, brand-new, though Rosh knew lightsabers were
bordering on highly valuable antique items for the
common citizen; it wasn't as if there were factories
somewhere mass producing them. Rosh had no idea if it
meant that this guy made it himself recently or it was
a fake, though he half suspected it was the genuine
article. Jedi training was serious stuff, and to be
selected for it was considered an honor; in Rosh's
opinion, someone had to be a complete idiot or a
complete fool to forge a lightsaber in hopes of
impressing a Jedi Master.
Suddenly forgetting that he was supposed to be wary of
his neighbor, Rosh blurted out the first thing that
came to mind. "Does that work?" he asked, pointing at
the item in question.
Without even looking at him, the other boy's mouth
curled up into the slightest of smirks and said, "None
of your business."
Rosh's curiosity transformed into irritation, along
with some anger backing it up. What a punk, he
thought. Narrowing his eyes, he asked, "Come on,
seriously. Is that for real or not?"
Without changing his tone, the other boy repeated his
answer. "I said, none of your business."
Taken aback, Rosh glared at him for a moment, then
slowly nodded. Having grown up in a close knit
community, he simply wasn't used to meeting someone
who was as brusque and rude as this guy. Well, it
wasn't like he couldn't live without conversation so
Rosh shrugged his shoulders and made a mental note to
avoid further interaction
with him in the future.
"Rancor bait," he muttered under his breath, looking
off in the opposite direction and left it at that.
Whether his neighbor heard or not was soon rendered
moot when two things happened.
The pilot announced that they were just about to enter
Yavin's atmosphere. He was about to say something
else when a yell from the back of the shuttlecraft
quite effectively interrupted him. As loud as the cry
was, it was the content that really made an impact on
everyone concerned.
"EVERYBODY, HOLD ON TO SOMETHING!! WE'RE GOING TO BE
HIT!!"
For one long momentm, there was silence as everyone
else absorbed the seemingly ridiculous statement.
Then came the staring eyes and gaping mouths
(including the pilot) as they regarded the lunatic
who, without any reason to, would just go shouting
nonsense at the top of her lungs.
The lunatic in question turned out to be the only
human female, an attractive red-haired young woman,
whose face was a mask of shock, anxiety, and urgent
fear. Before anyone else could say a single word
more, her warning soon proved itself accurate as
shuttle suddenly shuddered and rocked violently.
People who were standing fell down or slammed hard
into the walls or against each other.
Confusion and panic soon ensued.
The ceiling lights flickered.
The uneventful ride had suddenly transformed into a
turbulent dive headed straight to hell.
Calling for everyone to strap themselves in, the pilot
gripped the flightstick in a deathgrip and desperately
attempted to bring the craft under some semblance of
control. His hopes, faint to begin with, were nearly
shattered when another impact, one much fiercer than
the first, struck at the rear of the shuttle and
caused a minor explosion to go off.
By the way the rocking increased tenfold, the pilot
realized immediately that the blast, whatever it was,
had struck and destroyed one of the sublight engines.
Alarmed, but with a discipline that came with age and
experience, he quelled the panic that threatened to
overwhelm him. He knew that he was the only thing
standing between them and death.
Reacting quickly, the pilot switched off all the
engines, then activated the emergency landing
thrusters. Hoping that his passengers were still able
to follow his instructions, he repeated his warning
for them to secure themselves. Then he blanked out
everything else not related to the inevitable crash
landing; he would need his entire concentration for
the task at hand.
As far as he was concerned, whether or not they would
survive would depend on luck, skill, and the Force.
/****************/
On top of a Massassi temple, three figures cloaked in
black, their identities hidden by raised hoods,
watched in varying degrees of satisfaction as the
battered shuttlecraft coasted downward on an
increasingly erratic trajectory and leaking smoke from
the destroyed engine. The shapely curves clearly
indicated that they were of the female persuasion.
All three were of different heights, and the tallest
one had two distinctively red Twi'lek lekku sprouting
from two holes cut in the back of her hood.
The leader nodded as she lowered a long, ancient
looking sceptre, which was as long as she was tall,
and spoke a single word.
"Go."
Knowing completely what was expected of them, the two
other women bowed to her and then went to the stairs
that led back to the ground. The distraction had
already been dealt; all that remained was to finish
two simple tasks and their mission would be
accomplished. As they quickly but gracefully
descended, a small wind suddenly kicked up and
momentarily blew back the lower portion of their
robes.
Revealing two black and red painted lightsabers.
/****************
Started: I forgot
Completed: March 08, 2006
Corrected and Edited: TBA
Author's Notes:
Well, there it is. The beginning of the rewrite of
the Jedi of Chaos. Began it in Wordpad, then finished
it off in Notepad, and then ran it through a text
formatter in an attempt to completely avoid those
nasty Ms-Word problems. Let me know if it worked.
__________________________________________________
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