The Photonovel Alliance


Tartaaris…for centuries, the Outer Rim world prided itself as a haven for smugglers.

But the planet became a brutal battleground during the final stages of the Clone Wars.

Deemed a galactic disaster sector, it was abandoned before the Empire began utilizing the planet as a dumping ground…

…and established Tartaaris as an undisclosed penal colony for former Separatists and other undesirables.

Over time, a hierarchy of gangs has risen within the prisoner ranks…

…led by a former slave trader known as Atracion.

As the malefactors throughout the wasteland struggle to survive, they are constantly being watched by an enigmatic observer…

…and hunted by mysterious droids.

The planet is consumed by the stench of death.

It has been many years now since Rykrof Enloe was captured by the Empire…

…he now calls this festering hellhole his home.

The Imperial ration drops are the only reliable form of sustenance…

…but they have become infrequent at best…

…forcing Rykrof to explore new territory.

This extreme lifestyle has made Rykrof Enloe a changed man…

…he now lives for one sole purpose…


Rummaging through the remains of a crashed Republic gunship, he spots something in the debris…

…he jumps down to grasp it…

…an E-5 blaster!

He looks back to ensure he has not been followed…

…then grasps the weapon!

But as expected, the power source has been exhausted.

Rykrof is just about to leave the wreck when he feels a strange sensation.

The hairs on the back of his neck stand up and he feels a subtle compulsion - KEEP LOOKING!

Nudged by this sensation, he approaches a broken down astromech droid.

Almost without thinking, he feels compelled to remove the debris leaning on the dome of the droid…

Freed from the wreckage, a hatch on the droid ejects a cylindrical object!

Could it be…?

A lightsaber?

His heart pounding uncontrollably, Rykrof presses the igniter switch…

…and the weapon hisses to life!

Holding the weapon, a strange feeling spreads throughout his body…

…his mother was a Jedi of the Republic…

…her gift with the Force was not passed onto him; or so he has always been told.

But for all the tribulations he has survived, Rykrof has begun to have his doubts…

Most men, through his experiences, would have died dozens of times.

Did his father lie to him? Does part of his mother’s gift run through his veins?

“YOU!” a raspy voice sneers.

Turning around, Rykrof sees a pair of penal colony prisoners approaching him; a brute Katrillian flanked by a human.

“Your’e not supposed to be here! You’re trespassing!”

“What’s that right there you’re holding?”

“Looks fancy; whatever it is,” the Katrillian’s companion says.


“I’m not really sure,” Rykrof lies.

“Just more junk; I guess.”

“Hand it over.”

“It’s not anything worth taking,” Rykrof shrugs.

“Besides, it’s mine.”

Kill him!

Dammit!” Rykrof curses…

…before striking the reptilian alien dead!

The other assailant then swiftly strikes Rykrof down!

“Worthless slug,” he spits…

…before a laser blast slams into his skull!

“What the…?”

“Settle down,” an old man smiles.

“Don’t be afraid.”

“Whoever you are, thank you,” Rykrof says.

“Don’t thank me just yet,” the old man insists.

“We’ve got to get far away from here.”

“All this commotion won’t go unnoticed.”

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