Zeana walked slowly behind Logan, and the scientist, feeling a little unnerved.  Some of the group believed that they were safe now with the Progie, but she knew different.  Many of the things she passed as they walked, she remembered from her vision.  She sighed deeply, feeling impending doom lurking about her. “I have a bad feeling about this,” she whispered softly.

  The little boy turned toward her, “About what? We’re just going to Kas’ tille’s lab for a while.”

  Zeana sighed softly, “I think our party should move on, staying here could bring the Abissen forces to you.”

  Kas’ tille looked back at her, “I’ve discussed this all ready with your parents and grandfather this morning.  The Abissens know of our camp here, so there all ready was danger.  You will stay as long as you need, then we will move our camp.”

“Your people most likely know that we’re are here and might attack soon.”

Kas’ tille’s eyes flashed in anger, “They are no longer my people, understand?”

  Zeana nodded, surprised by his sudden outburst.  She rested her arms comfortably behind her back, and looked up to the alien once more.  “Kas’ tille, will they attack soon?”

“Most likely,” he replied.
 

“Why are your p… the Abissens trying warring with the Progie?”

  Kas’ tille was silent for a while before responding.  Through angry emotions he began to speak.  “The Abissens once had a world in which they shared with many races, yours being the most abundant.  The foolish race polluted the world and squandered all of the resources; it is now uninhabitable. After this happened they began a search for a new world they use and throw away.  The race wants to take over all of the land, and use its resources for trade and manufacturing, but in order to use all of the land they must get rid of inhabitants that are taking up space.  The Progie were in the way of construction and economy, therefore the government thought it right to murder them and take over, depriving the few who live their homeland.”

She glanced worriedly at Logan, “Are the Progie able to fight them?”
 

 Kas’ tille glanced at the young boy solemnly, “The Progie are very pacifistic wilderness dwellers and no nothing of technology, especially the kind that the Abissens have. Despite this, I’ve done my best in helping the people build their defenses; there will most definitely come a time when they will need what I can provide.”

  The scientist made his way through the clearing, and wiped the sweat from his face.  Humidity had a way of engulfing beings; it may be hot on planets like Tatooine, but those types of heat were only dry, and didn’t seem to penetrate people to the extreme that the jungles of Ithor did.

  As he walked into his lab, he breathed in deeply, and felt relieved by the cool air his small office provided.  While going through his papers and experiments, he talked to Zeana, continuing the conversation.  “To help these people was one of the greatest things I could’ve chosen. Some of the elders actually believe that I am some type of higher being, but what the Progie have truly given me is the understanding of true innocence and contentment.  I can be myself around these people, while at my old home I would be beaten for the smallest liberal thought.  The Abissens are desperate to cling to the illusion of security provided by monarchies and dictatorships.  They’re paranoid, and will kill anyone that they think may be a potential threat. I was lucky to only be banished.”

“Why are they so scared?”

  Kas’ tille put down some papers, and went to inspect some tubes and flasks.  “For a long time, before they became technological and met other races, the Abissens were barbarians.  For centuries, they lived in fear of each other and were brutal to those who didn’t look at them right. They got tired of the fear and senselessness, and began to crave order, then, later, power.  Now, they’ve ended up where they had begun: paranoid and foolhardy. Striving for power and all the while driving themselves back. They never rationalize or ask what they’re doing, they just go after power and murder innocents.
What they believe that they are holding onto, is something that they don’t have and never will unless the paranoia ends.”
 

  Zeana leaned towards him, feeling suddenly very curious. “What attracts you to the Progie so?  They have their own problems, as well don’t they? No race is perfect.”

  Kas’ tille stared at her for a while. “Yes, they have their own problems, but theirs seem more about defending themselves than anything else.  The Progie interest me because their society, although primitive, is very cooperative.  They work together to survive, only kill when they have to, and pray to their gods for the spirits of people and animals who are going to Hanaku.”

“Hanaku?”

  “It’s an old heaven of sorts. A different plane of the universe on which the spirit is once again created. Call in reincarnation to a different level.”

“How is Hanaku like an ancient heaven?”

  “In the fact that life on the other planes is supposed to be blissful and stress free.  The Progie don’t have a bad afterlife plane, they don’t believe that bad people exist.”

“If only that were true,” Zeana replied quietly.

Kas’ tille nodded, giving her indication that he agreed.  As he turned back to his experiments, saying nothing more in Logan’s presence.

Out of respect for the young one’s beliefs and innocence, Zeana stayed quiet as well, and saved her other questions for later.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

  Zander looked up at his friend through his bangs, raising an eyebrow.  “You were spying weren’t you?”

  Cyera went red, she had only asked about the necklace that he now wore, nothing more.  She knew then that she shouldn’t have been prying, but she had been worried about him, she’d thought that he had been going back into depression.  “I…. I…” she stuttered.

“You were! Cyera!” he looked at her angrily, then quickly calmed himself as he remembered what Jaden had told him about temper.  He sighed deeply, “That was private, Cyera, I really wish you didn’t pry into stuff like that.”

  “I didn’t hear anything, Zan, I promise. I only looked in for a few minutes because I was worried about you; the way you left me yesterday made me think that you were going into depression.”

  “I wasn’t happy with myself, but I’m not nearly as bad as before.  Cyera if you’re going to help, I need you to not wig over small things.  Spying isn’t going to get you anywhere.”

  Cyera nodded solemnly, “All right, but I need to ask you one question.”  Her teal eyes looked deeply into Zander’s brown eyes probing them with uncertain worry.

Zander nodded slowly, looking at her with the same intensity.

“Are you truly all right now?  No more tough acts, Zan, I want to know.”

  Zander’s gaze lowered, “I think that with some time I’ll be ok.”  He looked up at her once more, “Now my question, can I be sure that I talk you about anything?”

Cyera grinned, “Absolutely anything, always.”

  Zander gave her a thankful smile, feeling a little support comforting him.  He had reached a point were he knew his problems and how to solve them, but he was unsure of himself, therefore unsure if he could solve his problems.  Another person behind him made him feel much better.

 “So,” she ventured again, “What did you’re dad say?”

  At first, Zander replied with a venomous look, but he calmed himself and began to answer her question. “Well… I apologized, we got into the analyzing that you and I did, and I got some emotions out.  He promised that he’d make an effort to be around more, assured me that I wasn’t a screw-up and was in fact accepted, and then told me about some of the struggles he had with emotions.”

  Zander’s fingers held the charm on his necklace.  “Apparently, Dad had struggles overcoming his fear, and grandpa had given this to him.”  Zander grinned a bit, “He told me that grandpa and even my great-grandpa suffers from fear and anger.  I think it’s an on-going family trait.”

  Cyera looked at him with mock-sternness.  “Your not going to start blaming genes and chromosomes now, are you?”

  Zander rolled his eyes, “Don’t be a twip… Come on, I think we’re expected back for lunch.”
………………………………………………………………………………………………

  Jaden looked at his daughter calmly.  “I understand that your mother has been putting you under a lot of pressure, however, you have to understand things from her side.  She only wants you to recognize your full potential in academics.”

  Zeana sighed once more; her father was not helping her feel any better.  A few minutes ago she and her mother had got into a fight about some other club that she could join: yet another club that would add to stress and take away from the joys in life.  “I’m beginning to think that she only wants to brag about me, it’s not about potential anymore.”

  Again, her father responded in a calm reply, trying to make her see her mother’s point of view.  She didn’t want to hear it any more.  She just wanted to be a child again… she was only twelve. Was it too much to ask for a little free time in the day?  Zander seemed to have it so easy: he did whatever he wanted to whether people liked it or not.  Inwardly, she wished that she had the courage to do the same, but no, she wanted only to please so that people would greet her with a smile.  Why do I care so much?

  With a great sigh, she leaned against her chair, ignoring her father’s speech.  She looked up at her father when he planted a kiss on her forehead.  “I know that it’s not easy, but I’m here for you.  I still think, however, that you should bring this subject up with your mother.”

  Zeana felt certain that her mother wouldn’t listen if she talked about it, but said nothing because she didn’t feel like arguing.

  She looked up absent-mindedly as her brother and his friend came walking through the door.  Logan and Kas’ tille were still at the scientist’s office going over the latest research.  He told her that tonight the Progie would dance under the moonlight to honor the goddess Kusjjye: the queen of the gods.  Something told her that it would be quite an evening.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

  Zeana sat next to her brother, avoiding another lecture from Krysta.  She’d given up on trying to make her mother see things from her prospective, and though she tried, seeing her mother’s point of view on the clubs seemed impossible.  Quickly, she shook her head, willing the thoughts away.  This was her time to relax a little; it was, after all, a celebration.

  Zeana looked up to see Kas’ tille venturing toward their group.  She smiled politely and moved to give her room.

“Suck-up,” Zander muttered under his breath.

  She gave him a deadly glare in retaliation, deciding that it would be unwise to start a fight.  Cyera got him back for her, elbowing him in the ribs.

“Ow!  Cyera!”

  The Progie turned toward the boy who had cried out, and he smiled sheepishly.  “Sorry,” he said, rubbing his side.

  When they turned back around, Zander glared viciously at his friend.  He didn’t do any more, as his father was watching him; however, Cyera learned just how intimidating her friend’s glares can be.

Cyera moved back, bumping into Kaster.  “Oh, sorry Kas.”

  He smiled, “It’s all right.”  Kaster looked up at Zander, and folded his arms.  He was not frightened by his cousin’s glares; he’d gotten worse glares from his father when he was stressed.  “Zander, will you please stop glaring.”

  Zander snorted, but complied.  He admitted that he did deserve to elbowed, but only to himself. Sighing, he turned back to the Progie dancing around the fire.  He’d read about many cultures that had done this in old times; it was surprising to him how cultures across the galaxy seemed much alike in one way or another.
 

  The fire grew large, and the flames turned a purple hue.  Zeana, Cyera, and Kaster gawked at it; the people hadn’t even added anything, yet it had turned from a bright red to a soft purple.

  Zander eyed it curiously, “Perhaps it’s something about the wood,” he said quietly, more to himself than to anyone else.

  Kas’ tille nodded, “You are correct.  Once the fire burns deep into the wood, it changes.  The particles in the middle of the bark are different from that of the outside.  It’s quite interesting.”

  He sat down on the log with the children and lowered his voice so that only they could hear.  “The Progie believe that their gods change the color to show that they are listening, and are ready for an offering.”

“Offering?”  Zeana asked softly, her eyes still locked on the fire.

  “A shrubbery made by the village, and a large sting of beads.  The plants symbolize the tribe’s connection to nature. The beads have markings of the gods, progie, and plants on them, and so symbolize the balance between life and the holders of life.”

  Kaster took his eyes off of the scene for a while, glancing about him nervously. He had a strange feeling; the hair on the back of his neck stood up, and he began to shiver.  Taking a deep breath, he looked up at his cousins, who seemed to notice it as well.

  Zeana’s eyes were wide with fear, and images from her visions began to come.  Zander sat up straighter than he had been, and was looking around suspiciously.

  The Jedi were in battle position; lightsabers ignited.  Something told Kaster, that this wasn’t going to be a normal and happy ceremony.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Out of the brush came warriors on speeder bikes, within slender walkers, and within the cockpits of great jets.  The metal gleamed in the firelight making the frames look somewhat ghostly.  Soon, the wind blew out the fire, and the only light that could be seen in the jungle came from above - fire cannons.

  Zeana’s eyes widened as scenes of her vision came back to her, she yelled out to her father desperately, but couldn’t find him.  She turned to see her brother pointing up toward the sky.  Following Zander's arm she spotted their father clamped between the cylinder shaped engines of the jets.

“Zza…Zander,” she stuttered with shock.

  Before another word could be spoken, Jaden had pushed the engines away from him: bending them in the process.  Just as he pried himself from the jet’s clutches, big logs from the fire were thrown at the machine.  Reacting quickly, he jumped and turned towards his son with a critical look.

  Zander grinned sheepishly, and vowed to try his best to control and think about his actions.

Do, or do not, my son.  There is no try.

  Zander sighed and grumbled, positioning himself where he could do the most good.  He looked to his sister, who stood with a tree branch, staring at him with shock.  Shrugging at her, he turned his attention back to the enemy, a slight smug look upon his face.

  Krysta looked from her husband to her son, then, shaking her head scanned the area for anything useful.

  All the while the grown men fought.  Jaden and Shawn used their mind powers to try and confuse the pilots and send the machines away from the area.  Gavrin pushed the riders that he could off of their speeder bikes, desperately doing anything and trying to remember his old fighter ways.  Kas ‘tille did his best to keep the Progie people from harm; they were far too naïve to understand the acts of war, and were therefore the most vulnerable.

  Krysta came across the ashes of the old fire, and gestured cautiously for the Abissen scientist to come to the spot.  Looking down at what she saw, a smile settled on his features, making him look far younger.  Quickly, the two began constructing weapons while the battle raged on.

…………………………………………………………………………………………….
 

In the middle of the Abissen urban city, within the tactical building a prince sat smirking, and waiting for his plan to unfold.  While the group had gotten away, it was intentional for such to happen.  By now the ships and speeders would be attacking, creating just the evidence he needed.  The light Jedi had always had the weakness of caring, and it would now be their undoing.  No, he wasn’t naïve enough to believe that one simple attack would kill them off.  However, Jedi fighting him in something the New Republic had no buisness in would give him the incentive to fight against their government.  He could easily turn the galaxy’s point of view to sympathize with his people, thereby turning away from their old ways.  “ Then I will have them,” he thought, “like putty in my hands.”

  The prince nodded to his second officer, and the tapes began to record.  Soon, he would show the galaxy just how bad their government was.  And with the fall of the government would come the fall of the Jedi.

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