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The Death of Vazigo D’Ong
Vazigo D’Ong was a tall, gangly-limbed, silver skinned being belonging to a species that numbered so few that most in the galaxy knew nothing of them. Fewer still had ever seen one. Born at the very height of the Republic, Vazigo had been tested for Force-sensitivity soon after birth and found to possess great potential in that area. Even before leaving his birth planet, he was marked to be a great Jedi. But, it was not to be. The ship carrying Vazigo and the Jedi who had found him was waylaid. A single man of average-human-middle-age subdued the knight and took the child, saying only, “This one is not for you to teach or coddle. He has bigger, more important things before him.” Vazigo had been born not to be a Jedi or Sith or farmer or smuggler. He had been born with more power than any of these understood and the potential toward more still. Vazigo was a Zanespot. What came first, Guardian or the Force? Or are they one and the same? Does it matter?-For they both are the root of all life and all in the galaxy. Before there were Jedi or little green guys with big ears there was Guardian, the creator of the galaxy. Every blade of grass, every breath of air, and every bit of burning gas came from Guardian. It started small, of course, but galaxies grow and in time even a god-like being cannot keep up with it all. And so the Jedi were created-deputies and worshipers in one. There were only a few at first, but they too grew as families often do. There came a point when Guardian was essentially unnecessary. The Jedi kept peace and order, the galaxy was well formed and becoming pretty full, and it all became self-sustaining. With no desire to lull about needlessly, Guardian called together the nine most dedicated and powerful Force users and gave each a peace of his/her/its power to hold, use, and protect until the galaxy needed its Guardian again. More generations than Vazigo cared to count had passed since that day and still Guardian as a whole was beyond their reach. The original nine had split into three groups of 3-Tris. Within each Tri was a perfectly balanced set of timekeepers/protectors known as Zanespots-assuming all were found and safely hidden at the Tri. Things in the galaxy had changed drastically since Guardian’s farewell. Zanespots were hunted along with Jedi, feared by the Emperor and his army of cronies. Zanespots rules against carrying a weapon put them at a great disadvantage when a lightsaber glowing red buzzed to life before them. The powers themselves-Guardian’s power-could not be destroyed but the being housing them could. Each time a Zanespot died, a newly conceived child inherited his/her/its powers, but that child had to be found by its Tri. Not an easy task considering the size of the galaxy and the dangers of retrieval. An entire Tri had fallen on an icy world, wiped out by a red blade. Vazigo was not the strongest or wisest of his Tri, but he was chosen to go and restore what had been lost. He said good-bye to his wife and children and walked away, knowing it was to be for ever. His destination was a cavern of ice, tunnels and rooms of solid water. Outside, wind howled and snow blinded but all was silent-a tomb. There was a serene beauty to it that marveled at just moments before he realized he was not alone. By then, it was too late. Unarmed, Vazigo dropped into a crouch and allowed his assailant to come to him. He moved swiftly but had little chance of survival. With an all-too-familiar snap-hiss the ice walls glowed with red light. The weapon hummed and Vazigo dropped to the ground in several pieces. The lightsaber hissed off again and the black-covered eyes of Darth Vader looked down on the Zanespot’s remains. |
