How could I best serve the Alliance? I have spent over 20 years alone here. Living, training, watching from afar a galaxy of which I was no longer a part. I see Luke a young, strong mind. I watch his sadness as he sees those as the only family he knows, die. I watch the conflict between he and Master Kenobi. He is no longer a young man. I am nearly as old now, as he was the last time we saw one another at the academy. He walking side by side with his young padawan. I wish I could have those days back. With the Alliance fleet landing as I watch. I give little nudges to their scouting crew. I can't get them all, but I only need one or two, to direct them to the temple. It's a large complex, well covered by the jungle, but I've kept the interior cleared over the years, along with the others. At first they are suspicious. Wondering why these things are so prepared, so clean for them. They perform scan after scan to try and find a trap that doesn't exist. Finally satisfied they land and organize. It doesn't take them long to set up their base. They move so swiftly, always ready to break and run. I've watched them from afar for years, but this is my first encounter with them so close. They're established by the time Master Kenobi and the young Skywalker begin their journey across Tatooine. Then a long silent enemy shows himself again. As if awakening from a deep sleep the Emperor flexes his mind. Reaching out into the void, he learns of his apprentice’s failure at acquiring the lost data. In a fit of rage he does what all men of power do when things go wrong. He lashes out at those targets, nearest and easiest to hit. He appears before the Galactic Senate. He informs them that their services will no longer be required. At first there is outrage, but as Stormtroopers fill the chamber, weapons drawn. Silence finally prevails and now powerless men run for homes. It becomes increasingly clear to me that the galaxy is a much more dangerous place than I left it. I don't wish to remain stranded here, but I also do not wish to go out into it, only to die. I can't let fear rule me. I've spent my life alone here for so long I can not let fear control it now; after all I've gone through to survive thus far. I pull my mind back unto myself, to focus on the now. I must let Master Kenobi do his job, while I concentrate on mine. I begin searching the base. Looking for ships, on the fringe of the base. Something that can leave largely unnoticed for a long enough period of time for me to make my escape. I find a small shuttle at the edge of the clearing. It is obscured by larger craft in and around the temple entrance. I see a few guards, but none are looking this direction. All of them watch the sky. The shuttle is open. How fortunate. I go on board with what few possessions I can not leave behind. My lightsabre, cared for and cleaned these many years, but without power for over a decade. I hope it will still function. My books, mostly historical. Keeping them in one piece in this jungle was trying, but worth the effort. A journal, I only had the one and it was filled in the first three years of my............vacation. The last two items I made myself over the years. I began them early on realizing the lightsabre would not serve me forever, but I still must practice. They are a matched set of blades. Made from metal. They hardly compare with a lightsabre, but they were made to suit my need for training, not to fight against lightsabres. The handles are 33 centimeters. The blades are 96 centimeters in length. An equilateral triangle at the base 3 centimeters to a side and tapering to a point along it's length. I made them painstakingly by hand. The handles were easy to shape from parts I had salvaged from the ship. I simply spent months grinding them with stones. They were a soft metal, like my lightsabre. The blades were another matter entirely. For these I had to create a forge. I spent months designing it. Trying out and discarding designs. Once complete I discovered I simply could not generate enough heat to melt the metal. At best I could soften it enough to shape a little with the hammer I had made from a piece of metal ore I found on the planet. So I spent 3 years building these two blades. I would spend 10 hours a day on the task. The rest of my time I trained my mind. Felt the galaxy around me and worked to survive in this jungle all around me. The time spent honing the blades cost me many cuts. The edges I ended up with were worth each one. The pride in accomplishment was so much more than I had felt while constructing my first lightsabre. I wished to test them. I was still young at this time, nearly 19. I found myself doing foolish things at first. I would go out at night and tempt the beasts of the jungle. This was my darkest time. One night, while I the young fool was 'playing' with his blades, I chanced upon a number of what were called simply nightbeasts. I had encountered them before singly, coming near my camp. Foolishly when one comes towards me I prepare for a fight, the one to my right nearly catches me by surprise. I still have the scar across my shoulder where the flesh was scraped to bare bone. Once I realize matters are serious I begin in earnest to dispatch the creatures. The first two go fairly quickly. I feel my right side weakening and attempt to withdraw. That is when the others arrive, four more in all. I sense around me, searching for more. All of them are within my vision in front of me; I back myself to a tree. The blade in right hand is slow to respond. I bring it to the guard position, preparing to attack primarily with my left, 'weak' hand. The first rushes me coming in low on my right side, I bring the blade into a locked forward position as I bring the left down on the creatures head when it comes within range. It thrashes about as it drops to the ground. I almost lose the right blade. My body is in agony trying to fight. Next two come at me on my weak side, the last coming around to my left. They come in slower this time, keeping their distance, judging my range. As one, they attack me, the one on my left side rushing in high, the two on my right, one coming high, one low. Spinning I turn facing the tree, left blade going for the low attacker, piercing the throat, right blade slashing at the face of a slightly slower attack from my other side. He hesitates long enough for me to take his balance and compromise it by force pushing him down as I jump away from the tree. The one with the throat wound is thrashing on the ground, the one knocked to the ground is rising and the one who was coming in high on my left is changing his direction towards me again. Standing my ground I advance towards him first, slashing left to right, in an overhand cut, towards the inside. He screams as his guts spill to the jungle floor. I turn to the last attacker. He's in mid air, coming down at me. I try to step aside, barely able to get out of the way as he comes crashing down on me. Tearing pain going through the right shoulder as his claws dig in as he lands on me. Inside the length of my reach I don't have enough leverage to cut or thrust with any power. I punch with the left blade handle as I kick with my left foot. As he comes off of me, blood dripping down my right side I try to rise, my right arm useless. I roll away from it and get to my knees then my feet, anger coursing through me I slam the creature against a tree. I hear his bones crunch. Standing, bleeding, ready to scream in pain and yell in anger. I realize I've gone too far. I'm approaching the dark path. The one I worried over all the years of my life. The one my instructors warned me of since I was old enough to understand words. I dropped the blades and ran. Eventually I found my way to the home I had built. Panting in the doorway, trying to regain my bearings. Then I remembered the wound on my shoulder. Afraid to look down, but knowing I must. The front was three neat little holes. I could probably get to heal without too much effort. Then looking over to the backside of my shoulder. I saw bone, sinew, gleaming white in the light of the gas giants glow. The skin hanging in several shredded flaps. It took me 6 hours to do the basic cleaning and dressing of my wounds. I didn't use stitches, partly because I couldn't bear to use a needle in my skin, but mostly because I knew the wounds would heal better if I simply kept them clean and the edges held together. I spent that first morning double checking my lightsabre. It would still serve me well for a few more years, but I wanted to be sure after my 'mistake' last night. Letting the Force guide me I searched for leaves and herbs, which would be helpful to me in my time of healing. It was three months before I could depend on my right arm again. During that time I swore I would never have a 'weak' arm again. I took the time to bring my left within the same range of skill as my right had been. When I'd made the two blades I was still thinking in terms of attack and defense being slaved to one arm or the other depending on need. I could no longer afford that luxury. I went out and recovered the two blades. After a few months in the jungle they had suffered some oxidation and pitting of the metal. I spent a few hours of each day returning them to their former condition. All the while telling myself. These things helped lead you towards the darkside. That is within you now. You must either accept it or overcome it. Run in fear or fight for what you know to be right. I chose to fight. I increased my training. Each day I would begin and end with meditation. After morning meditation I would spar with ghosts. I would fight amongst the trees. I would pick one hand to fight with one day and the other the next, until it didn't matter which I used. Then I worked in earnest to use them both. At the end of each days training I gathered food and other supplies before eating, the evenings meditation and then sleep. Over time I learned to face the night again, with two blades. Coming back to myself now I placed the blades on the deck next to my other belongings. I checked the night to see if I had attracted anyones attention.I had not. I brought the engines online to begin their warm-up cycle. I chose a slow cycle to attract less attention. While it progressed I found a power outlet and adapter for my sabre. I plugged it in and waited for it and the engines to signal they were ready. When they were I sensed into the night for sentries. There were two on the other side of the clearing. One seemed to be listening for a new sound. Drive hum. He called in to ask if anyone was firing up a ship, was told they were not. He must be hearing the generators they told him. I pressed that thought over and over again in his mind until he answered back that they must be right. I taxied the ship farther away, slowly, keeping to the trees and cover of the ships. Slowly I rose above the treeline, barely skimming the top as I slowly opened the drives. Listening for pursuit or even interest, there was none. Once I'd cleared the horizon I entered space. I was off of Yavin IV for the first time in over 20 years. Free from a jungle that had been my one constant companion. Leaving behind the dark entity that had helped me all those years. I no longer needed his help to find the people I needed to. They were well known to me by now. They would never be able to hide from me no matter how hard they tried. Now I must decide on my next destination. I had decided to help the Alliance. I wanted to help young Skywalker, but I would leave that task to Master Kenobi. There was trouble reverberating through the galaxy. A storm was coming the likes of which I had not seen since the Purge. I must prepare myself. I must be ready when it comes.