 | 
| |
| 
| |
| 
| |
| 
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…
| |
| 
…revenge.
| |
| 
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.
| |
| 
“This?”
| |
| 
“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.”
| |
| 
| |
