PROLOGUE

A powerful tremor rocked the small red-and-white Republic supply ship, compelling Kareb's hands to brace on both sides of the control panel as a sigh dragged past his lips. He hijacked the ship in perfect condition only hours ago, but now it steadily grew battle-worn from the massive firepower barraging down on him.

The fresh cuts he bore started to sting from the sweat drenching the white bandages coiled tightly around his bare torso, but what followed him felt more important than the pain.

Looming right beside his ship sailed a large, federation battle cruiser, all its flank turrets maintaining a steady pounding against the smaller vessel. Kareb's grip on the control panel tightened as the ship quaked again, attempting to jar him from his feet, but he maintained perfect balance as he fought to keep his ship on its course.

His eyes narrowed as he stared beyond the thick glass viewport and into the black space stretched before him, calculating the time it would take to warm up the hyperdrive and rocket out of danger. He could then continue to Courscant, his planned destination since his older brother, Shadow, left him to suffer on Korriban, the planet they both once called, "home."

The durasteel moaned as another tremor shivered throughout the hull and the control panels began fluttering, fighting to maintain power to keep the ship going. When the light in the controls burned out, Kareb gradually sensed the vessel's speed decreasing and inwardly he released a sharp groan. He was a sitting duck now.

As the Republic ship finally ceased movement and now gradually drifted through space, the battle cruiser's shooting eased as the larger vessel moved closer. Kareb drew in a cold breath, calling on the darkside which he always summoned when in need. Over the years, it became his one—and eventually only—companion.

Kareb's best friend and love, Sheema, laid probably shattered in a dark chasm on Korriban, his master's two halves remained exposed on the volcanic grounds where Sheema died, and his brother now lived somewhere on Coruscant with his own lover. It made Kareb's blood boil at the thought of Shadow and the Jedi Padawan, the ones responsible for Sheema's demise, together.

His plans since they escaped from Korriban had been simple: hunt down his brother and make his suffer. Anything to suffice the anger searing within him. He wanted to see the pain on Shadow's face; to see the lifeblood of the Jedi who allowed Sheema die to cover his hands.

But now he faced a terrible setback, and hopefully he could leap over this massive chasm, but something deep down told him otherwise. Something, or perhaps someone, dark moved throughout the cruiser, and that possessed a deceitful aura . And as the boarding tunnel from the attacking ship attached to his ship's airlock, he could feel the darkness starting to near him. The boarding party would approach, and quickly he needed to make his plot of attack so when they came they wouldn't be disappointed to find a weakened boy; they probably wanted a challenge.

Kareb's hands released the console he kept beneath a death grip and allowed his finger tips to brush the two dark-hued hilts dangling by his hips. Both the same weapon with similar design, and one of them had belonged to a different wielder: Shadow. At the touch of the energy weapons an energy bubbled through his body, tingling through his nerves, shivering along his bones, and coursing in his veins.

These attackers are Separatists, no doubt, Kareb noted mentally, knowing the boarding party now stood on his vessel. Don't worry, Shadow. I'm coming—just let me deal with these Separatist scum.

The large durasteel door whooshed open and Kareb whirled around into action. Both lightsabers flew to his open hands and bloody-hued plasma blades ignited in a snap. Droids. Just simple, scrawny looking machines armed with blasters and equipped with small programed minds. The simple foot soldier.

The leading droid, which had a distinct yellow stripe marking along its head and twig-like figure, spotted Kareb. "Blast him—" The walking scrap didn't have time to even pull the trigger, for its head popped off thanks to a flash of angry red spiraling from across the room.

The hilt returned to Kareb's outstretched hand, just in time as the five droids that made up the rest of the squad released a rain of bullets. The electronic blots flew to and fro, bouncing off the crimson blades with ease as he twirled them with a deft hand. Some bolts returned to their source, managing to deactivate two out of the five droids. The rest Kareb relied his skills with a lightsaber to dispatch the rest.

Kareb's blades swung in blurs, separating arms from torsos, heads from necks, and severing bodies in half at the midsection. The squad that had approached the bridge now laid in a satisfying pile of sparks. He caught his breath, flanks heaving as he fought to cycle enough air to steady the pounding of his heart, and admired his work with a grin.

A steady clapping emitted from a little farther in the hallway and his attention snapped just ahead, automatically forcing his aching body to adopt a defensive posture. Standing somewhat in the shadows was a man, face aged above fifty years with a graying beard and lack of hair on his head.

The man wore dark robes, and in the depths of his form Kareb could sense some darkness pulling through him. The sixteen-year-old's eyes narrowed, studying the elder gentleman. A rough chuckle touched his ears, but the man didn't speak. In fact, it was the brooding character hunched beside the human, it's gruesome yellow eyes staring at Kareb with a malice and desire for his blood, almost like a poisonous serpent ready to strike.

"Impressive," mused the older gentleman, stepping into the threshold of the bridge. He eyed Kareb with dark narrowed eyes, easily concealing what he thought or felt at that moment. His face, rigid with a toughness and experience, looked disgusted at the sight of him. "This is a surprise; you're not a part of the Republic nor the Jedi Order. What astonishes me more is the lightsabers you wield—" the man paused, considering his next words carefully. "You're probably the rumored 'Sith' recently tromping around the galaxy."

Kareb didn't speak, unsure how to respond to the chilling coolness that spoke to him.

The man scoffed, arms folding across his chest as he said with heavy, and distinct distaste, "Pathetic."

The word flared an anger inside him, and Kareb's grip on the lightsabers tightened to the point where his knuckles turned to a stark white. "I'd watch your mouth, old man!" he warned, spitting out each word as if he ate something revolting. "I'm well-trained in the arts of the Sith." Although he still had much to learn, Kareb felt rather confident in his skills.

"You're wounded, boy," the man said, mostly taking note of his appearance. "How do you know you can win?" He glanced at his mechanical companion who only released a deep, throaty laugh. "I'm sure my general, Grievous, can deal with you easily, you naïve child."

"I have the darkside on my side," Kareb hissed back, concealing the offended feelings surging within his muscles. But something inside his mind hatched a fear, and quietly he repeated the name of the man's general: Grievous. Why does that name sound so familiar—damn.

He realized who he stood before and the realization mentally whipped him. Deep down he felt a sense of regret, and eventually a defeat weighed on him. He stood before Count Dooku, the leader of the Separatist army, and standing beside him was his monstrous general, the Jedi killer, and dauntless fighter.

He heard Count Dooku laugh at his earlier statement when he mentioned the darkside, minor amusement easing some of the seriousness on his face. "Hmm, we'll see." The Sith Lord took a step back, gesturing toward his general, as if releasing him to do what he pleased.

Kareb watched the mechanical menace step forward, tucking his metallic arms toward the underside of his cape and pulling two slender objects from an inner pocket. Within seconds, a green and azure blade sprouted to life with a snap-hiss.

Kareb couldn't wait. On impulse, the young soul lunged forward with his twin blades simultaneously sailing toward the general's flank. The blue blade intercepted the blow in seconds while the green went to make its mark at his shoulder. Kareb repositioned one of his blades so it could intercept his opponent's second blade from touching his body.

The warmth of the energy weapon radiated on Kareb's exposed flesh, as if warning him to not be so reckless. With a youthful spring, he flipped back to give him and the general space, but instead Grievous advanced, his blades swinging madly at Kareb's form.

He managed to fend off most of the blows, but Kareb felt his strength gradually beginning to wane. As the general's arms lashed forward with the tips of his blades coming in for a lethal thrust, Kareb ducked low to the ground, using a Force push which sent him sliding beneath the general's legs.

He pulled in his crimson blades close, twirling to sever the monster's legs but his weapons touched nothing but air. Grievous leaped up and unto the control panel, his pale eyes glowering toward Kareb as he continued sliding along the cold floor.

As Kareb slid, he adjusted his blades so he could easily get Count Dooku off guard, but already the Sith Lord had summoned his curved hilt with a flick of his wrist and activated it in seconds. When Dooku's blade swept down Kareb released a strong Force push that sent the elderly man sliding back. Without a doubt he knew the Sith used the Force to act as a cushion to soften the shove.

Kareb hopped to his feet just in time to intercept the deadly blades of Grievous. The mechanical arms conjured a power that the boy fought against, but gradually he felt his limbs starting to weaken. The four blades sizzled against each other, unwilling to part.

The general's snake-like eyes burned into Kareb's, a stare that only made the sixteen-year-old shudder in fear. He had become so focused on Grievous's eyes, he didn't see the spare arm reaching for him.

Grievous's cold metallic fingers snapped around his throat and flung him back into the bridge like a lifeless piece of prey. Kareb's back slammed against the viewport with an audible crack, and as he slid down to the metal floor he managed to prop himself up and glance at the white crack marring the window.

His eyes averted back to the general, struggling to get back to his feet but his strength had abandoned him. In desperation he flung a lightsaber from his right hand, the arc perfect and spiraling smoothly to cut the general in two, but Grievous had one of his blue lightsaber slice the flying crimson in two.

Kareb had one left. Better make it count, he thought to himself as he got to a knee.

Grevious's green lightsaber swung for his flank and deftly Kareb used his remaining weapon to fend it off. He moved so sluggishly he couldn't stop the general's spare arm from seizing his throat again. Kareb's chest tightened, lightsaber swinging to sever the hand from the arm but another pair of cold fingers captured his wrist.

"Nice try, Sith," jeered Grievous, letting out a deep chuckle. His grip tightened around Kareb's wrist, compelling him to release his hold on the crimson lightsaber and letting the hilt clatter to the floor.

Kareb's world suddenly jerked as the general turned and threw him against the ground belly-first. The blow rattled his upper torso, causing his face to finally contort in pain. Grievous forced him on his back, slamming his large foot against the boy's chest and closing the sharp-prongs that created his toes around him.

Kareb cried out, withering beneath his opponent and silently begging for mercy. He needed to survive. The general's hand slapped him, the sharp fingers raking nastily across his face and forcing him to scream more.

"Pathetic," Grievous snarled. "Let me put you out of your misery, boy—" The general's Jedi-colored lightsabers swung down to deliver his promise. Kareb heard the dangerous hum, and his mind ripped into a warm darkness...

Shadow's eyes flashed open in an instant and the familiar darkness shrouding his room greeted him, and despite the coolness that slithered through the open window bringing in the hum of traffic, nothing could ease the terror still gripping him from his nightmare.

He remembered vivid images: the earthquake which shook the dream's world, the snake-like eyes belonging to a monstrous mechanical general, and the dark warmth experienced by his younger sibling in his last moments. Shadow wanted to forget the events on Korriban, to at least shake the feeling his brother didn't hold ill thoughts about him and Ahsoka.

Movement whispered to his left and he sat upright in wonder, focusing on the ruffled sheets beside him and remembering he wasn't alone in the room. His green stare glanced toward the window where he saw the a figure preparing to leave. The shadows wrapped around his lover's slender form, the faint light setting a soft outline so he could admire her better. He watched her clip two slender cylindrical objects by her hips and a sadness weighed in his heart.

"You have to go?" he whispered, throwing the sheets off him and getting up, already he knew the answer.

Her entire body stiffened, caught off guard by his voice more than the question, but without hesitating she replied back, "My master needs me to come back to the temple." Her sky-blue eyes gazed over her shoulder, watching Shadow's broad-shouldered form. "I'm sorry. They've just got word that the missing Republic supply ship has crashed near the Senate building."

When she mentioned the supply vessel, Shadow felt an excitement flutter inside him. "You mean the one that went missing by Korriban?" he questioned, walking around the bed with interest. "Let me come with you," he pleaded. "If it's true, perhaps it's Kareb! Ahsoka, please!"

"You can't," she whispered as her hand lovingly touching his shoulder. "It might draw suspicion to you, especially us." Ahsoka eased up on her toes and kissed his cheek. "Stay here. If something is wrong, I'll let you know, alright?"

Disappointment sank inside him, but Shadow saw her point. "Alright," he finally agreed. "Just be careful." A grave expression managed to appear on his face as he stared at her, trying his best to contain his worry about something happening at the crash site. He hated not being by her side.

He moved closer to her, encircling his muscled arms around her form. He held her in his arms, listening to the steadily rise and fall of her chest that always managed to comfort her, and in those several moments he enjoyed their final minutes before they had to part ways. He knew well if she returned to the temple, she probably would need to return to the battle field.

When she departed from his comforting hold, he watched her slip out the door emotionless, but he could tell through the Force she longed to stay with him. He longed to work beside her, but alas the Jedi Council didn't really wish to see him in their halls.

Shadow sat down on his bed, fingers combing through his sable hair as he tried to recollect the events in his nightmare. He had nothing to worry about, for Kareb died. But a dream is always just a dream, he reminded himself. Kareb could be alive.

He settled back into bed, head returning to his pillow so he could attempt to rest for the morning. Forging a reputation as a bounty hunter wasn't easy, but working with a pretty honest loan shark didn't make it so bad. At least he had a steady pay. Shadow closed his eyes, trying to steady the tremble of his heart but it didn't seem to slow.

Something else lingered ahead in his future, and it felt like a danger.

Shadow reopened his eyes, staring up at the dark ceiling, and exhaled in disappointment.

This is gonna be a long night...

Hey, guys! First of all, I'd like to thank you for reading the very first chapter of The Dangerous Path. I'm gonna have a pretty hectic week which will make it difficult for writing, but the next chapter will be complete soon. I will be posting Chapter 1 on April 30th, 2014!

I hope you all are as excited as I am for the upcoming chapter! Count down the days, because the 30th will probably come in a breeze!