Chapter 1 - JEKKA

THE SHIPWRECK, still propelled by the ion torpedoes that crippled it, slowly drifted toward the second moon of Orba, its shapeless, shifting mass of metal, glass and twisted hull spinning and catching light from H’tana, the dimming star of the Hoth system.
Of its dozen life pods, only one was inhabited. The sole survivor of the wreckage, nine year old Jekka slept, his fingers aching and bloody, throat parched from screaming, his eyes darting rapidly under closed lids. Floating helplessly in cold space among the dead did not warrant any desire for sleep but darkness stole over him nonetheless. The dreams that came were fading rotations of comfort and terror. Slowly, his mind began to unwrap the shock and reveal, in tiny, dense packets of flash bulb imagery, the chain of events that led to this undeniable end, beginning on Orba, his home world, where all of this hell began.

Orba was 1,000 storms rolled into a violent planet of red rocks and black seas. The storms were living, breathing masses of black, low hanging clouds that migrated the planet like herds of wild beast, colliding, disappearing and appearing from nothing but a few smoky strands, throwing blue arcs of lightning and pelting winds at the human inhabitants of Orba. A lonely caravan trekked across a red desert, led by Jemmak, father of Jekka, husband of Uuroqu.
Jemmak walked side by side with his scaly beast of burden, a Hessup. The Hessup was a distant cousin of the dewback species, smaller and gray in color with a screen-like membrane that shielded its eyes from the stinging sands flung by the northern winds. Thick, muscled legs made for steady progress pulling a load, in this case, a hovercraft. Inside the hovercraft, the howls of the winds were quieted. It was dark, warm, and peaceful. Uuroqu stroked the brow of her sleeping son, hoping this trek would last forever. Wishing that her boy did not have to leave. As if sensing this, Jekka said with his eyes still closed, “I don’t have to go.”
Please, she thought, my heart cannot take any more. “Jekka, we’ve been over this. This is for the best. For you.”
“No, it’s not. What best for me to stay with family. You and dad, my brothers and sisters. What else do I need?
You will understand when you are of age. Right now, it doesn’t seem that way. If you stay here, and you become of age, you will look back on this time, and you will regret staying here. It’s difficult, I know. This is the hardest-" She stopped, her face quivering. She looked away, tried to control her emotions. "You are special. And the universe needs you. The jedi need you."
"Why?"
"Because you are good."
"Good at what?"
"Just good. There are a lot of bad people in this universe. The jedi need good people to defend it."
Jekka sat for a bit, quietly mulling. "When I’m finished with training, I’m coming home. Just for a little while."
"I should hope so. We will have a great feast, welcoming a jedi home!"
"And I can use mind tricks on Herek!"
"No mind tricks on your big brother!"
"All right. Maybe lil elsie."
"None on your sister, either."
Jekka sighed. "Then what’s the point?"
Uuroqu laughed and tickled Jekka to tears.
Jemmak, dressed in earthly colored cloaks to avoid sunburn, stopped and pulled a flask from a pack fastened to the Jessep. He drank deeply, knowing the voyage would soon be over. He scanned the horizon. Black clouds drifted low like predators hunting prey. He witnessed two storms merge into one. Lightning cracked inside, thunder boomed and echoed over the valley. Past this lay the city of Otannah, where he would say goodbye to his son. Word had traveled through the villages that the Republic was looking for children with special powers. They called this gift the Force. Jemmak knew nothing of the Force, or of Jedi or Coruscant, the capitol of the galaxy and birthplace of the Republic. He did know that his son held special powers, and that he wished the best for him. His other wish was that he did not want to say goodbye to his son so soon, but the word mandated that the candidates must be young. To console their emotions, Uuroqu and Jemmak reminded themselves that there was little opportunity on Orba and Jekka had a chance to do great things.
Jemmak replaced the flask, slapped the beast to calm its worries, and led them on. He had no idea that behind them, emerging from the dark, drifting clouds, came a giant floating war machine, huge cannons pointing forward. It drifted menacingly and quietly over the red sands toward the small caravan.
Jemmak looked ahead and saw the spires of Otannah glistening in the red sunlight. He could make out a ship, and what looked like thousands of people hustling about. The sight was bittersweet. Again he felt the drop inside his heart and the sting at his eyes.
Why am I doing this, he thought. Let us turn back and live our lives as normal as they should be; happy, proud, together. That is too easy, he answered himself. “Strength,” he asked aloud, “Gods give us strength for this.” He started back to let his wife know they had made it, anticipating the tears from her eyes as well. Then he saw the battle tank, as big as a two-story building. Three massive turrets were rising into a high firing position.
Jekka flinched, startling his mother.
“Mom-“
A thunderous blast shook them, splitting their hearing into silence.
Jemmak watched as the tank fired three missiles overhead. They soared high, trailing black exhaust into an arc as they fell upon Otannah.
Jemmak stood helplessly as the bright missiles disappeared with a flash into the crowded city. He saw the ship explode in a ball of orange fire and red dust. He saw bodies fly. He could not hear anything but eerie silence; the blast has ruptured his eardrums. The Jessep almost knocked him over as it fled from the tank, pulling the hovercraft with it. Jemmak ran after it, not realizing he was screaming.
Uuroqu acted on instinct, grabbing Jekka and stowing him inside the empty compartment beneath the bench seat.
She held a finger to her lips, smiled and pinched his cheek. A wink told him all he needed to know; that everything will be all right and she loved him. Then she was gone and he was in darkness.
From his hiding place within the caravan, Jekka had heard distant nightmarish sounds, screams, explosions, ship thrusters, and worst of it, sickening silence. After he counted to 1,000 and retold the genesis of the universe inside his mind, Jekka quietly crawled out. The caravan came to a stop inside a sand valley. Jekka walked to the Hessup, who appeared to be taking a nap. He slapped its rear.
“Go!” Jekka commanded.
The Hessup did not move.
He hit it again harder. “Go!” he screamed at it, looking around frantically. He had to find his mom and dad. He took a closer look at the Hessup.
The Hessup lay still, its body not moving, not breathing.
Jekka patted its rear softly. “Go,” he whispered.

A loud crash woke Jekka completely from his shock-induced sleep. Wide eyed, mouth in an open scream, Jekka spun around inside the small lifepod, looking through the carbon glass for the cause of the noise. The wreckage was being bombarded by a small pack of asteroids. Jekka knew there of the H’tanna cluster that circled the solar system and the countless ships that had been taken out by their unpredictability. Jekka knew he was on the outskirts of this deadly mass of space rock and he was the potential victim of risky chance. Someone please find me, he cried. He reached out into the blackness with his thoughts and pulled. Someone please see me. These thoughts were an echo of what he had felt after he crawled out from the caravan only days before.
Suddenly, the shipwreck trajectory was interrupted as it was pulled downwards towards the bottom of a huge ship. The great ship’s bay doors opened, taking in the fragments and remains of the refugee ship through a bluewave gravity beam. The immense ship bore the bold colored flags of Hoth and telltale fishing export emblems on its aft. Jekka watched in fright as the ship grew larger with each passing moment, wishing that he had never left Orba.