Disclaimer: Hey now, we know that I am no Lucas. He owns Star Wars. Jude Watson is the author of Jedi Apprentice, Jedi Quest, and Last of the Jedi. I have always liked Star Wars and always wanted to write my own story. This story deals with my own fictional Jedi who situation seems almost identical to Anakin's, but thats not what the story is about. Please read and review.
Trip's Diagnosis of Life, A Jedi's Ambitions as a Knight. A Star Wars Story
He grabbed a towel and took a break from the action. This round his master was particularly tough on him. That was ok; he thought he was winning anyway. A prominent fighter, his prowess had grown to a noticeable status. Some found it hard to fathom how this kid, coming from nowhere, rises high through the ranks at eighteen years of age. It certainly was not easy on the kid, because he was starting at thirteen when most of his peers started at three. During instruction he often heard them talk of the times they used to have back in those days of young age. They had been together for so long and had formed an inseparable bond. Or so everyone else thought. He knew the truth; these kids stab each other in the back, talk about each other, and hate on each other all day long. Ironically, these actions did not much defer from those of his native area. That too, made it hard for the young knight to get closer to his peers, letting the fact that he was different set aside. He always knew that he was not well liked, but somehow everybody knew him. They knew his name, knew who he was, knew his accomplishments, the parents of these kids- of all ages, the staff- everybody. His popularity derives from his imposing figure, unique style of thinking, and the differences that set him apart.
Still thinking back he painfully remembers that he was not alone in his quest. Actually he was not even the reason he was here. Always giving thanks to the greater one in charge, he never forgot about his friend. Controversially, the place he was now at needed some help in their athletic department. If anyone could improve this, his friend could. Always moving, juking, ripping, and diving this way, that way, his athletic prowess was unmatched in his area. So the two decided to step out of their native areas along with twelve others and rescue this place from athletic insufficiency. They led their teams to new unachieved heights gaining all kinds of recognition. Famous in the halls, popular among the teachers, they brought "unforeseen speed and power," to the new place. Certainly the new academy was not without its challenges, exotic ones at that. As it is no place is inerrant; inerrancy is only achieved by few. This place was a trip he thought. He- they all were used to the situations less than ideal. Their native areas were pretty tough places. Fighting, drugs, and straight abuse were common attributes of such an area. It was an area they traveled a great distance commuting from the places. It was impossible to carry the same style of living from their native area to this new institution. The rules were many, it's leader fierce about upholding them- something had to change. They still held it down in their athletic events as previously stated, but their styles of fighting and their general habitual knowledge differed so greatly from this new place. They were different and they knew
it. They made friends, but only had a few real friends, ones that would not denounce them behind their backs or fall to their parent's twisted views.
At the end of the first year, two moved on to adulthood and their siblings left the institution. Not a good sign; he knew the rest of his friends had been contemplating withdrawal. It was not fair, his friends were all supposed to move on to adulthood with him. Fine. That was just fine he thought, as long as his best friend, his partner, his brother, did not leave him. But their athletic recruiter decided that it was best for his family if he left. So he did, and his best friend did too. So now there was only three left. The last of the players, the last of the Jedi. True enough, they would not cower in the face of a hard time, they would stay and fight, keepin on keepin on. They did not win many more games without the help of their teammates, the rest were worthless. They found themselves playing games alone. Their four athletes to other teams 35, they were warriors and showed no fear.
Puh, he thought, so many problems, so much drama, all things which are trivial in the end. He came across so many shallow people every day- it made him sick. True enough in the society he was currently involved in no one was supposed to be shallow. But they were. People would ask him what's wrong, but he
would just shake his head full knowing they did not care. He had not cried since he was eight years old. He was eighteen now and it was unbelievable that he hadn't. Normal people- anybody else would have cried all day and night. Enough of this thinking back upon his life, the challenges he had faced, and the things he had learned- he could talk about those later. Using the force he called his lightsaber to his hand and ignited it, ready for some action. He leaped out at his former master, he being a full knight now just recently passing the trials. He was never the first to strike. With a grin on his face his master took a baseball bat style swing. He ducked, rolled and finally parried, feeling the force flow through him. He was stronger; his master used to get him with that one all the time. Not anymore, tsk, tsk, tsk, how many times did he have to prove himself? Now his master would come at him with a strong backhand sweep in attempt to end the match quick. He went to parry the move but his master faked it, tripped him up with a sweep of the leg, and touched his lightsaber lightly to his neck on low power. Dang, he thought to himself! Just goes to show that when he thought he knew a lot; he was really only beginning to learn the ways of the force. Knowing his master, he had probably anticipated his own anticipation.
Wisdom was something he often had when it did not matter, but did not have it when it did. Back in the times he spent with his best friend, he used to fight all the time. He never acted harshly towards other people back then, but for some reason they hated him. He was different. Not light enough for the opposing race, not dark enough to be one of them. So if he wanted to fit in, if he wanted to be one of them, he would have to prove it through his actions. So he grew up talking, walking, and acting like them. Quick to fight they were, and impulsive with their actions too. They had developed a simple system of nonsense: if someone said something to you offensive in the slightest and you had nothing better to say, you fought them to get your respect back. Therefore the boy grew up a fighter. Unknown to his parents who raised him to put his faith in the greater one in charge, he fought all the time. But it was not his fault; people just could not seem to keep their mouth shut about him. The only reason why they picked on him was because they were certain that he would not do anything. So our man had to set out to change that outlook. He was tired of being talked about, tired of being left out because he was not cool or something, sick and tired of fighting. He hated the way it made him feel. He got a certain feeling like the insides of his body were being ripped apart. It was a terrible feeling, worst than losing, worst than being spanked or punished. So he tried to stop. True enough, after awhile he realized that it was okay if people thought him a loser. In the end, it did not
really matter what they thought anyway. And when he got his opportunity to move on to the more beneficial society, the task became that much easier. He barely had to fight anymore; he had other problems.
But now it was the end of his four year stay at this institution. It was time to move on to an even bigger and better institution to prepare him for life. And he smiled thinking to himself how much better off he would be, knowing both sides of the racial spectrum. He knew the hard less fortunate side, the side he grew up in, and still resided in today. But he also knew the side of rich luxury. That's great too, but knights seldom took the luxury option. Sometimes it was not to attract attention, others it was more comfortable to travel regularly. One thing he was sure of that whatever he did on the other side of his service as a knight was going to deal with that side of luxury. He would have money, and lots of it. When one had money, one could do things. One could help people, one could provide for those he loved. However hard he had to work, however long he had to, he would do whatever it took.
That was the big deal. Knights were destined to protect the helpless, and help those in need. They did not abuse their power, picking street fights with thugs. No, they just brought justice to the unjust. Being a knight was not for the weak hearted. This particular knight however, had a soft heart. The greater one in charge that was earlier
referred to has a certain doctrine, known as the Bible. The Bible is the greatest book of all times, teaching a knight all that he should abide by. The force was only complementary to a knight's composition. That was a bonus, being force- sensitive. When one was force- sensitive, one could slow down time, or call an object to his hand, or use it to bear down upon a person. But the most important thing was the power it gave to one to judge emotions. So sharp was this particular perk on our man, that it was like he knew what you were thinking. This power combined with a genuine care for people got him in to unusual situations.
That too, was a terrible feeling too, when somebody needs help and they swear they don't. He wanted to help people. He genuinely cared about people. That was his problem- but it was not a problem. He could not help it; people did him wrong once and the Bible says do not let the sun go down on your wrath, so he forgave them. They did him wrong again and he forgave them again. You think he would learn his lesson after the third time, but he didn't. He had heard stories about the chosen one and this had also been his case. He was said to be the new chosen one of the new order. He still did not know how he felt about that, but it was apparent that he was special. With his genuine care and his expert judge on emotions he found it easy to talk and converse with people. Even still as was stated before, people always found some kind of problem with him.
After all the things he had seen, done, and been through he had always thought that if he shared some of these events with people they would have a new respect for him. That's all he wanted was some kind of general respect. He would tell you: it was not easy wanting to help people. It got him hurt, it got him in trouble, and it got him nowhere. Or did it? There were more people he thought, that liked and respected him than there were people that did not. This was attributed to his real care. When people talked to him, most of them did not feel the generic hollow feeling they got when they talked to their main associates. It was probably good for them for a change to be cared about huh? That was the way their society was going. They would ask each other how they were or how their day was, but let's be real: they did not really care. That was okay too, because the person they asked could have been going through some tough times too, but the person they were talking to did not care either. There was then at least mutual apathy and usually no one person got more of it than the other. Right? Not true. There were still some outcasts around. Nice people, despised for no good reason. Well, actually the charges against these certain people were that of being boring, not pretty or handsome, and so good of a person, they were easy to take advantage of. But then the problem with that was that some of these people had nothing to be taken advantage of. Thus, said persons were good for nothing, and when on e was good for nothing no one wasted their time. But that was in any society huh? It was these types of people our man particularly tried to reach out to.
But now here he was, having done what so many of his friends could not stand to do. It was Commencement day. May 17. There were originally 13 and only 3 survived. They had what it took. But now Trip, our man, had come upon a startling discovery. He was saying goodbye to some of his friends, this particular day he was done with all of his classes. He was suddenly swarmed with people. Girls, Guys, young children, teachers, all sorts of people were rushing to say goodbye, telling him how much they would miss him, begging him to come back to see them. One girl even started crying and a few gave him bracelets to wear for him to remember them by. Some were promising never to forget him. Teachers were shaking his hand and clasping him on the back telling him about the improvements he had made over the years and how he was prepared for life. His coaches invited him back to workout anytime over the summer. People were telling him to stay in touch, handing out their phone numbers, even their home ones. Then he realized how respected and cared for he was. He realized that he would be missed. He realized how many friends and supporters he had. He was used to being not liked, and now he knew just about everyone in the institution. And suddenly he was not so ready to leave. He could have cried but he did not. It was time for him to move on to bigger and better things; he was about to enter the best time of his life. But he felt attached. Attachment was not for Jedi. Attachment was what corrupted Anakin Skywalker and Trip was no Anakin Skywalker. He was just as powerful, but not nearly as confident.
But he still had one more thing he had to do, two things actually. The first was to find his rival and take him down- very un Jedi like, but it had to be done. The second was the final confrontation with the one he loved. He did not love much, but when he did he was attached. Shaking his head, he put his hand on his hilt, checking to make his lightsaber was secure, and headed down the way to handle his business.
END OF FIRST PHASE