Me: Hi guys! *Shrieks and dodges multiple thrown items*

Gin: *Readies an arrow* What the Hades took you so long!? And this isn't even my story!

Me: I know I know. You see, funny story…I had the next chapter written on my tablet, and then it broke, so I had to save that chapter as an omake and write another chapter on my phone, and I STILL haven't finished that chapter. But don't worry; it's like 80% done. Then this story jumped up and held me in a chokehold.

Gin: That's not the worst excuse I've ever heard.

Me: :D

Gin: But I'm still mad at you.

Me:

Me: BTW, I apologize if this first chapter's a piece of crap, it's the first chapter so it's entitled to be that way! And I promise to upload the next chapter of RTS soon. Now read!

Chapter I

The Galactic Empire has fallen. Emperor Palpatine, Dark Lord of the Sith, is dead, killed by his apprentice Darth Vader, who is dead as well. On the Sith homeworld of Korriban, Darth Revonair, the infamous Nightstalker, is furiously packing ancient tomes, holocrons, books, and scrolls into a massive trunk. He had known about the fall of the Empire for awhile now, and, as a precaution, hid himself here, to attend to his studies in peace. However, his spies had alerted him that the New Republic was heading to Korriban to destroy it. He quickly began packing everything that would be of use to him and made preparations to head back to his homeworld of Vantar.

He cursed as he hit the back of his head on the underside of a table. Rubbing the back of his head, he continued searching for the last tome he had to pack. "Where is it?!" He yelled, rising from underneath the table and dusting off his robes. He turned his gaze to the trunk and his eye twitched as he saw the very tome he was looking for sitting innocently next to the trunk. He sighed and rubbed his temples with a gloved hand. He glared at the tome as if it offended him and used the Force to place it in the trunk. Shutting it tight and locking it, he dragged it off the table and onto a hovercart.

After he put the trunk in his ship, he ran back into his home and retrieved everything else he needed; such as clothes, extra food, spare metal, and lightsaber care kits. Running back to his ship, he remembered that he left his computers inside, so he went back, retrieved them, and sprinted to his ship.

His ship's sensors began to beep and showed red dots approaching the planet. He cursed and started the ship up and took off. Leaving the planet, he spotted the New Republic's fleet and quickly input the coordinates for Vantar. Unfortunately, some fighters spotted him and flew towards his ship. They fired and hit the engines dead on. The ship lurched but the Sith Lord didn't falter in his concentration. Shields down to 25%. Engine 2: Failed. Engine 1: Critical. Hyperdrive: Active and Undamaged. The computer alerted him. He strapped himself in and flipped some switches, charging the drive. Hyperdrive charging. 10%, 20%. The ship lurched again as another fighter hit him. He gritted his teeth and clutched his armrests until his knuckles were whiter than his skin.

Hyperdrive fully charged. He grabbed the handle and pushed it forward. A fighter fired and hit the back of his ship, hitting the hyperdrive, as it entered hyperspace. Warning: Hyperdrive damaged. Exiting hyperspace in 10 cycles. Revonair growled at the fact that he was hit. He knew that there was no way to get back to his home planet now. He did take solace in the fact that he had the foresight to remove all records of his homeworld in existence.

Ship now exiting hyperspace. Damage to engines 1 and 2: Critical and Offline. Hyperdrive: Damaged. Repair odds: Moderate. Location: Unknown. Now looking for known constellations.

Revonair groaned and rubbed his temples...again. He sighed and turned his attention to the HUD, the blue screen displaying nothing of import. He exhaled and leaned his head back to the headrest, eyes drifting shut on their own accord.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

He was awoken by the alarms, the ship seeming to sense its master's slumber. He turned his attention back to the computer. No known constellations detected. Uncharted Space. Planet suitable for repairs located on current trajectory. Insufficient data for complete analysis. Making sufficient adjustments in trajectory...Complete. Course now set. Bearing .5 degrees portside at 115 Parsecs per Hour. Estimated time...17.45 cycles. Just what he needed. Flying in uncharted space was never a good idea...unless you were a pirate. Revonair groaned and held his head in his hands. He only hoped there was someone on the planet that knew about starships. He sat back once more and closed his eyes, hoping to at least have a good landing.

Scan complete. Atmosphere made up of mixture of various gases. Breathability: 95% harmless. Environment similar to Naboo. Life-form readings: Six-billion humanoid and unknown amount fauna. Multiple unknown signals. Technology: Moderate. Scans indicate various advanced sites. Revonair nodded, then an idea came to him. "Computer, scan for Force signatures." Searching...Searching... Signature located. Level: Infant. Scans indicate high level of intelligence and sentience. Midi-Chlorian count: Insufficient Data. Insufficient Data for full results. The Sith pondered over this new information. Not only was the planet livable, there was a high chance his ship could be fixed. There also seemed to be a Force signature on the planet! Granted their level was below youngling, but with hard work and dedication, he could have an apprentice! 'But I must be patient. There is no telling if this planet is hostile or not. For now, I'll observe and learn.' He thought.

Warning! Warning! Entering atmosphere. Hull temperature rising. 50 degrees...60 degrees...70...80...90... Temperature reaching critical. Current trajectory indicates landmass as landing point. Speeds increasing. Crash landing imminent. Proceeding to emergency protocols.Straps wrapped around the young Vantari's midsection, legs, shoulders, and wrists, securing him in his seat. A helmet lowered from a compartment up top and secured itself on his head. On the inside, multiple readings and warnings appeared, straight from the computer. Odds of crash survival at 85%. Landing in 10...9...8...7...6...5...4...3...2...1.The ship gave a jerk as it dragged along the ground, making a trench. In the process, his head hit the headrest with enough force to knock him unconscious.

At Titan's Tower, it was quiet, something unusual for the normally loud building. Starfire had dragged Robin off to the mall and Cyborg and Beast Boy went to buy a new video game. Raven was left alone in the Tower, a welcome change for the Dark Titan. She had been meaning to read this book she had aquired not too long ago, and now was the perfect time. She grabbed her book and floated down the hall, humming a tune she had heard once.

She got to the front room and sat down on the couch. Just as she was about to start reading, the alrms began blaring. She slowly lowered the book, revealing the irritation in her eyes and the tic mark on her forehead. She turned her attention to the alarms and pressed a button. An image of Jump City appeared on the screen and saw a red dot approaching the Tower. She retrieved her communicator, and called the other Titans. "Raven to Titans. Proximity alarms are ringing and there's an object approaching the Tower at high speeds." She said. Robin immediately answered. "Roger that. We'll be there as soon as we can." He said. Raven sighed and floated out the door, so much for peace and quiet.

She saw it as soon as it crashed on the island, making a trench in the process. It was a ship that was pitch black, about thirty feet long and ten feet high. (Think mini version of the Naboo Cruiser from Episode I but black.) She called to see if anyone was hurt, and tapped on it a few times, when the cockpit opened with a hiss. Looking in, she saw an unmoving figure clad all in black, a black mask covering his face. There was a silver ball the size of a softball floating next to him, scanning him with a crimson light. Vitals: Normal. Damage Sustained: Three broken ribs. Fractured wrist. Fractured leg. Status: Unconscious due to a blow to the head. Overall Assesment: Favorable. Require medical specialist for furthur treatment. She raised an eyebrow at the mechanical tone. Require medical specialist for further treatment. The thing repeated. The other eyebrow raised, she pointed at herself. "Are you talking ro me?" She asked. Affirmative. Master requires medical treatment. The thing said. Deactivating crash saftey protocols. Please proceed with caution. The straps that were wrapped around the pilot retracted, making the pilot slump down. Two rods extended from the left and right and attached to the helmet he wore on either side. A seam split down the middle, and it was pulled off with a hiss.

Raven gasped in shock as she took in the sight of the pilot. He looked about her age, maybe a bit older, with pale skin, raven black hair, and a gash on his forehead dribbling purple blood. She pulled the pilot out with her powers and took him to the infirmary.

As soon as Raven set the boy on the examination table, the others walked in. Cyborg started running diagnostics. The silver ball floated in and hovered above the boy, not doing anything. A red beam scanned Starfire and it beeped. Race scanned. Searching database for known cultures. Race: Tameran. Gender: Female. Force Signature: Nonexistent. It said in that cold, mechanical voice. The others raised an eyebrow as Starfire floated up to the thing. "Ooh! I have never seen such a technical marvel. Tell me, what is your name?" She asked. I am designated SP1-257, Special Espionage Probe. It said. Master requires medical assistance. Master has sustained three broken ribs, fractured wrist, and fractured leg.

Cyborg studied the droid intently. He then turned to the others and nodded. "Yeah. Imma need y'all to get out so I can work." He said. They all filed out and Cyborg got the medical equipment going.

Revonair groaned as he felt a throbbing pain in the back of his head. He turned sideways on the very uncomfortable bed and tried to go back to sleep. Wait...bed? His eyes snapped open and he sat ramrod straight, regretting it as a wave of nausea overcame him. He held his head and shut his eyes tightly, trying to ride it out. He eventually reopened them and began to look at his surroundings. He was in an all white room, so white that it was glaring and he had to squint. An assortment of medical instruments lay about on a table and he immediately recognized the place as an infirmary. He looked down at himself and frowned. Instead of his usual attire, he wore all-white pants and bandages wrapped around his torso. Charming. He rose up from the bed and noticed that he was barefoot. The concrete felt cold on his feet and he shivered, wrapping his arms around his middle, wincing when pain flared up in his abdomen. A breeze went down his back, but he paid it no mind. He began looking around, trying to find a door. He found it and used the Force to open it, satisfied when it slid open. He stepped out and found himself to be in some kind of building. Using the Force, he sensed multiple presences around his gear. Scowling, he padded towards them.

"So who do you think the kid is?" Beast Boy asked as he held up one of the metal cylinders attached to their guest's belt. Cyborg shrugged. They were all in the front room looking at the guy's things while he rested. Raven held up a black cloak with a hood and sleeves. "Whoever he is, he's not from here, if that ship's any indication." She said. SP1-257 had left not too long after Cyborg started healing the boy, which was a good five hours ago, saying that it was going to scan the ship.

"What are you doing with my things?" A voice asked from behind them. They jumped and looked at the source of the voice.

Me: Whew! That's done!

Gin: Not your best work, but also not your worst.

?: I for one, thought it was acceptable.

Gin: For Apollo's sake! Now I have to deal with HIM?

?: *Raises eyebrow*

Me: Yes Gin, now be nice to Revonair.

Gin: No promises.

Me: *Sighs* Anyways, remember to review! Comments, suggestions, and criticism (constructive) is welcome.

Gin: And if you have any questions on this or other stories, like when he'll update *glares*, you can just PM him.

Me: Anyways, Ja ne!