Author's Note: Hello! So I'm back again, finally deviating away from The Force Unleashed. I've been playing a hella lot of Star Wars: The Old Republic over the past few months and I wanted to write my spin on the Jedi Knight storyline.
I can't guarantee how fast this will update, as it can only go so fast as I can play the game, which - right now, thanks to my crappy internet connection at uni, and coursework deadlines - is limited. Still, I've written a few chapters already, so I'll try and update as regularly as I can!
P.S. If you see any mistakes, please let me know and I'll correct them soon as!
Disclaimer: I own nothing, all credit goes to Lucasfilms and Bioware.
Embers
1 - Origins
3622 BBY - Iziz City, Onderon
The old Jedi Master sighed as he leaned back in his seat in the speeder taxi. He was tired; so tired. The war against the Empire was never-ending. Jedi were dying at an alarming rate. And he had an old injury on his knee that neither the Force nor kolto seemed to be able to heal. Anger and pain were everywhere he looked, everywhere he could see.
However, there was peace on Onderon, for the moment, which was where he was situated. For once, he was dealing with an issue that wasn't war-related. It was just a shame he couldn't stay any longer than he needed to. Jedi didn't get military leave, but it would be nice.
"That's us arrived, Master Jedi. Can't take you any further, I'm afraid; no civilian vehicles are permitted beyond this point," chirped the taxi driver, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. Master Edrim Yull shrugged, and leaned forward to drop some credits into the man's hand.
"I'll be fine to walk. Thank you," he said, exiting the vehicle and walking out onto the landing pad. For the first time, he took in his surroundings. He was standing outside a very large and grand-looking apartment block, buildings stretching up all around him. Clearly, this was a wealthy part of town.
Oh, no. The rich ones are always the hardest to convince, Edrim thought to himself, grumbling as he half-strode, half-limped toward the address listed on his datapad. He knew he was attracting some funny looks, but he had long since reached the point where he cared. He supposed the number of Jedi Masters and/or Nautolans seen on Onderon were rare, and couldn't really blame the civilians for staring. The Force had led him here, and he would just have to follow it.
Although, stars, that child's link to the Force was strong. He had felt it landing on this planet, and he knew that he had made the right decision.
As he made his way toward the building, he put away his datapad, knowing that he wouldn't need it. Edrim could have found his way blind, if he had to. It was like a rope, pulling him towards the apartment on the south-facing side of the building, into a large, spacious lobby and up six floors in the turbolift. Finally, he stood outside the door and composed himself, attempting to give himself an aura of calmness and peace.
He knocked on the door. It opened, a sliver, but not enough for him to see a full face.
"Yes?" The voice was suspicious; not a good start. However, he must be polite. Need to remember that.
"Good afternoon," he began, smiling serenely, "My name is Master Edrim-"
"You're a Jedi," the voice, a woman's, hissed accusatorily. "The Jedi are here!" she shouted behind her, "The Jedi have come to take my baby! They're here to kidnap her! The Jedi-"
The door shut with a slam. Edrim sighed, and decided to wait. Surely, the damned woman must have more to say. A hint of Force persuasion wouldn't go amiss, in the circumstances…
"Excuse me. Master Jedi? I do apologise." The door had opened again, wider this time, and it was a human male who answered. "My wife is…very protective. Please, do come in."
Edrim bowed, his head-tendrils swaying, and walked into the apartment. It was very spacious, with a ceiling-to-floor window on one side that allowed the sun to stream in, showing off the view of the city and the lands beyond. The man standing before him seemed to match the apartment; he was well-dressed, but not overly so, and gave off an aura of humbleness that – in this particular Jedi's opinion – so many nobles lack. Because this man was most definitely a noble: he could see it in his eyes, his Force aura, the way he stood.
"I am Ormil Famir," he said, spreading his arms, "Advisor to the King, here in Iziz. We…have anticipated your arrival for some time," he said, gesturing for the Jedi to sit down.
"You have?" That was unusual; most parents had no idea their children could become Jedi. It was, he observed dryly, a fate not many parents would want for their offspring.
"Yes. Our little girl…Ramilla…she is very strong in the Force. It runs in our family – well, we seem to be able to sense the Force, but not manipulate it. Does that make sense?" Ormil asked, frowning. Edrim nodded.
"There are many instances of this happening. I am glad you understand why I am here. Your wife guessed my intentions very quickly."
Ormil looked slightly embarrassed. "Ah. Yes. My wife does not share my gift for sensing the Force. She does not understand why our daughter has to go, although I have explained."
Edrim spread his hands in a gesture of empathy. "Most parents do not understand. It is perfectly natural." Which was true; he had seen his fair share of resistant parents. It wasn't pleasurable to part children from their parents, but it was necessary to ensure the survival of the Jedi Order.
The noble sighed. "Yes. I understand. It does not make it any harder to bear, though." He paused, rubbing his brow. "I will go and fetch my daughter. It is her you are her for."
He got up, and disappeared into another room. "Suna? Where are you? The Jedi would like to see Ramilla…"
Eventually he returned, looking irritated. A small woman with a sour expression on her face followed him, glaring at him – and her husband – with extreme malice. He stood up as mark of respect for the woman – Suna – and was about to introduce himself properly to her but, again, she beat him to it.
"You're not going to take her!" she said, pointing a finger at his chest. Ormil frowned at his wife.
"Suna, we have discussed this. She would be much better off with the Jedi."
"I do not believe that," she spat, turning on her husband, "We live a comfortable life. You serve the King. We have security and wealth, here. Ramilla could grow up to be anything she wants to be."
"Or anything you want her to be." Ormil muttered, folding his arms. "Besides, you barely even look after the girl – you make the nanny droid do all the hard work, and claim the finished result as your own!" He looked to Edrim for support, as his wife looked dangerously close to hitting him. Edrim quickly intervened.
"The path of a Jedi is not a restrictive one," he said, emphasising the calm in his voice, "If, in time, your daughter wanted to leave the Order, she could leave. We are just teaching her to use the skills she has been born with."
"Let the Jedi see Ramilla," cajoled Ormil, as Suna folded her arms. "She could become a great Jedi, if we let her. What if, when she is grown, she asks why she has this power but cannot use it? Will you be to blame if she is unhappy? At least, as a Jedi, she can choose her path. Let the Jedi see her," he repeated, this time a little more forcefully.
Suna sighed, and frowned. She turned to the Jedi.
"It seems I have been overruled. I will let you see her. But that is all."
With that, she walked away, and disappeared into another room. The Jedi Master was beginning to wonder if it was even worth it. His diplomatic skills were rusty, and he had never enjoyed diplomacy to begin with. Republic Senators were easier to deal with than this woman.
"I apologise again," said Ormil, shaking his head. "She is a very difficult woman, even at the best of times."
Edrim smiled humourlessly, but said nothing. This was personal; nothing to do with him.
Eventually, Suna returned, dragging behind her a very small infant girl. Edrim wasn't as familiar with human ages and development as he was of his own species, but the girl looked no older than maybe two or three standard years. Very young, in other words. She had short red-brown hair and pale skin, similar to that of her parents, and the little silver hairpiece that she wore matched the one in her mother's hair – a mark of nobility, clearly. Her eyes were also a very rich, dark brown, and were currently staring at him with some trepidation. She shuffled behind Suna's legs, but Suna sighed and pulled her forwards, pushing her out in front of her.
The young woman glared at Edrim, as if her daughter's shyness was his fault. "This is Ramilla."
Edrim bent down on one knee, level with the infant, and smiled. "Hello, Ramilla. My name is Edrim."
The girl turned around, looking to her father for support. Ormil nodded gently, and Ramilla turned back to face Edrim, holding her hands behind her back and bouncing on the balls of her feet.
"Hi," she said, and then "You look funny." She giggled, putting both hands over her mouth. Edrim felt the corners of his mouth lift. Well, perhaps this isn't so bad.
"Well," he replied, "I am a different species to you, Ramilla. My species look different to yours."
"Species. Hmm." She cocked her little head and sat down on the carpet as if he was about to tell a story.
"She seems to like you," commented Ormil, gazing at his daughter with some fondness. Suna made a disgusted noise.
"Pah. She does not know anything. She is still young, and stupid. She will not make a good Jedi."
"With all due respect, that is not your area of expertise," replied Edrim coolly, still looking at Ramilla. She was gazing back at him intently, her eyes alive with curiosity.
"Not my-? You insult my intelligence, Jedi."
Edrim dipped his head. "As you insult mine, ma'am. I have been a Jedi for longer than you have been alive, I suspect."
He reached out a hand and gently touched Ramilla's forehead. Closing his eyes, he felt through the Force her growing curiosity, and her eagerness to learn. Even more, he felt the Force flowing through her like a river, strong with currents surging and flowing, filling her with life and power that she didn't even knew she had. It was like a beacon of light in the cold, dark world that Edrim considered the galaxy nowadays to be. She possessed an inner strength that he had never seen in such a young child before. Yes, this was the one. She would grow to be a strong Jedi, Edrim was certain.
He opened his eyes and stood up, clasping his hands behind his back, facing the two adults. Ramilla looked up at him in alarm and shuffled over to her father.
"Ramilla will make an excellent Jedi, one of the best," he told them, even though they would not understand. "The Force is strong in her, and I am not one to deny the will of the Force."
Ramilla cocked her head. "Je-di?" she asked Ormil, tugging at his sleeve. The noble sighed, and picked up the girl.
"Yes. The Jedi are the protectors of the Republic, Ramilla. Do you want to go and learn how to be a Jedi?"
The girl frowned in concentration, and looked at Edrim. "Like him?"
Ormil nodded. "Like him."
The Jedi cleared his throat, knowing that what he said next would be a mere formality. "I would like your permission to take Ramilla to the Jedi Temple and have her trained in the ways of the Force. I have the authority to take her regardless, but I feel this way is better."
"Whose authority?" demanded Suna, pacing angrily and glaring at him. Edrim sighed.
"The Galactic Republic's," he replied tiredly, "The Jedi are, after all, the protectors of the Republic and all it stands for. I suggest you take it up with them if you have a problem."
He was no diplomat, and he never would be, and he knew that was probably slightly too sarcastic a remark for the way of a Jedi Knight.
Still. The woman was insufferable.
"I am not happy about this," she hissed, "I will not see my daughter again. Foul, loathsome Jedi!"
With that, she turned and left the room, the doors sliding shut behind her. Ormil sighed in resignation.
"I give my permission," he said, placing Ramilla gently back down. "It is not a fate I would have chosen, but then, that is beyond me now." He knelt down beside his daughter and took her little hands in his. "You're going to go away with this man, now. He is going to take you somewhere safe, where you can learn to be a Jedi."
"Me, Jedi?" said the girl, looking confused. "You come too?" she asked, looking at her father expectantly. His face fell.
"Ah, no. But don't worry, my dear. We'll see each other again." He smoothed her hair and kissed her forehead. She reached out her chubby arms and embraced him, her eyes screwed shut. Ormil caught Edrim's eye, perhaps wanting reassurance, but Edrim only shook his head. It was unlikely the two would see each other again. There was no point in pretending otherwise.
"Goodbye, my daughter," said Ormil, standing up and patting Ramilla on the head. "You will make the most wonderful Jedi, I hope. Now, go with this man. And make sure you do what you're told. Do you understand?"
Ramilla blinked, her eyes wide. "Goodbye," she said, becoming very solemn for a moment. "Goodbye, pa."
Edrim bowed in respect. "Thank you," he told the noble, and he meant it. There was something about the girl, who was now clasping his hand tightly. He couldn't quite place it, but he knew that there was something different about her. Different from all of the other Jedi he had recruited over the years. Perhaps this girl – Ramilla Famir, daughter of the advisor to the king of Onderon and soon-to-be Jedi – would be the one to end this war, not one of the endless diplomats and speakers and Senators that he had encountered.
He made his way, child in tow, back down the stairs of the apartment block and out onto the pedestrian courtyard. Edrim looked down at the girl as they walked, and noted how there was no fear, no…hesitance on her little face. She wasn't crying, or whining, as so many human infants do at that age. Just a calm kind of composure, one that Edrim would occasionally see on very senior Jedi Knights – which, given the current political climate, was very rare.
Yes, he was certain he had made the right decision. He would take Ramilla to the Temple, and she would make one of the finest Jedi he had ever seen.
A/N: I appreciate you taking the time to read this as I know a chapter full of OCs is probably not the most interesting to begin with...hang in there, friends.
~carrotycake x