Here you go...Jolon's story
"I began my life like any other Jedi," Jolon began, shifting into a sitting position on the training floor. "A small infant with no parents except for the stern masters who watched over me. Naturally, this was all years before the Clone Wars, and even well before the Invasion of Naboo. It was then that the Masters, sensing the power I had, very similar to your own, created a set of mental blocks meant to keep those powers in check. A wise decision on their part, as the Force unblocked could have very well killed my fellow younglings."
Semreh nodded, understanding Jolon's reasoning. The Force was powerful, but could also be very unpredictable in someone without the training to control it.
"These restrictions did not disallow me from using the Force." Jolon continued, "In fact, my ability with the Force was so great that I was eventually taken as the personal apprentice of master Yoda when I was six. It was a special training, but not at all like that of master and padawan. I was taken aside, and given special instructions on controlling the Force. By the time I was eight, I was already being looked at by the other masters, and Yoda left me to my own devices. Eventually, after much study and work under my own master, I became a healer in the Temple."
"That's one thing I wanted to ask." Semreh said, tilting his head quizzically, "I've never understood the nature of healing through the Force. How is it done?" Jolon, sighing heavily, raised his hand to his mouth and carefully bit it, drawing blood.
"You see." He said, placing his uninjured hand onto the wrist of his other arm. "Force healing works by accelerating the growth of cells in the injured area, literally regrowing the injured area." As Semreh watched, the skin surrounding the small gash in Jolon's knuckle seemed so seethe and spread, like watching moss grow in fast forward. A second later, it had finished and the gash had filled in with fresh clean skin.
"Like I was saying," Jolon said, raising an eyebrow that warned against further interruptions, "I soon found myself as a Knight working as a healer in the Temple. But I was given the freedom to explore my talents further, going on missions and even taking my own padawan. We traveled the stars together, going on countless missions and fighting together, before she…betrayed me." Semreh started, looking at the old man before him.
"Betrayed you! How?"
Jolon leaned back, looking sad and broken. "We were evading authorities of a planet we were infiltrating when she gave me away to our pursuers. I fought both her and the local police, barely escaping with my life. Then, I ran. I ran for as long as I could, not returning to the Order once the mission ended. I went into hiding, and stayed that way for as long as I could."
"Why not return though?" Semreh said, a touch of doubt entering his voice. "If your padawan turned to the dark side, why not warn them of the danger?"
"I never said she turned to the dark side." Jolon exclaimed sharply, "And I don't know why I never returned. The Council probably believed us both dead, and so never worried about our location. The fact is that I prefer isolation to the bustle of Temple life. In my exile, I could continue to study the Force in peace. Remember, I'm a scientist at heart. Over the years, through meticulous study and preparation, I have probably discovered the largest archive of knowledge ever imagined." With a little flourish, Jolon withdrew a rather large holobook from the inside of his coat. It was about the size of a holobook, with a brown exterior and book like qualities.
"This datapad is an accumulation of years and years of study." Jolon said in a comically obsessed voice. "I have spent years archiving all my studies. Every experiment, every theory, every fact…right here." He patted the holobook companionably, letting it slip back into his coat pocket.
"May I read it?" Semreh said uncertainly.
"Not yet." The old man said, turning to leave the training room. "Someday though, I expect you to continue this. Our Force abilities are a rare talent. Clearly, we were not brought together by accident my young apprentice."
"Jeez," Semreh said, laughing nervously, "Awfully fatalistic, eh."
"Jedi can't afford to be anything else in these dark times." Jolon mumbled darkly. "Either way, I hope you understand me a little better now. However, I would like to hear your story." At Semreh's surprised expression, Jolon smiled and spread his hands wide.
"It's only fair," He said, "That I be allowed to know your past now." Semreh nodded in agreement, and began his story.
He told Jolon about his youth in the Temple, about his friends and his masters. He talked about how he'd excelled in classes about controlling the Force, and how he spent so much time in the archives. When he came to his adventures with his own Master Nostwa, Jolon leaned in, clearly interested in hearing about the brutal Clone Wars. He asked a few questions, but only spoke out when Semreh mentioned how he had been considered for the trials.
"Preposterous!" Jolon exclaimed, waving his words away, "The Jedi would never grant someone of your experience knighthood. Not only that, but there are other aspects of your education that need work."
"The masters said I was ready." Semreh said, shrugging. He was a little stung by Jolon's apparent disdain of his abilities.
"This war," Jolon said, raising a single wrinkled finger for emphasis, "Has turned the ancient training methods into simple basic training for soldiers. There's no more of the old methods, like those practiced by the Dark Woman." Semreh nodded in understanding.
The Dark Woman was a mystery that padawans only whispered about. She was a knight, but had remained almost completely independent of the order. She took several apprentices, including the great Ki-Adi-Mundi and A'Sharad Hett. Her methods were controversial and unorthodox, but created some of the greatest Jedi of their time. Unfortunately, it also created Aurra Sing, a powerful Jedi killer and bounty hunter, who had murdered many of their comrades. Some said that this came about due to the sheer brutality of her training. Hence, the controversy of her methods.
"I'm sure the Council did what it needed to do." Semreh said defensively. "We were at war after all."
"Ha!" Jolon said with a snort, "If the Jedi of old had defended the Temple, even their padawan's would have been victorious. The loss of the Temple just demonstrates how ineffective your training has been. Obviously", He said, tilting his head to the side, "We have a lot of work to do."
Semreh, his pride stung, stood up and followed Jolon from the training room. The man could complain all he wanted as long as he taught Semreh to fight.
As Tarkin watched the sun set over Coruscant, he couldn't help but wish that he had a view of the Temple at this time of day. It looked so glorious, a single redline blazing across the Temples outline like the fires of Order 66. Glorious…
Shaking himself, Tarkin returned to his desk, poring over papers filled with requisition and troop orders. All across the galaxy, protests and tiny revolutions were popping up like brushfire. Most of these were weak enough for local garrisons to handle, but incidents on Kashyyyk and other planets were straining the resources of the new Imperial Navy.
While the more powerful Victory-class were still under construction, the Venator-class were struggling to maintain order. While more clones were made, and new recruits flocked to Imperial training centers on Cardia, more and more of these priceless soldiers were being killed and dying of old age. As unbelievable as it sounded, Palpatine's limitless Empire was running low on gas.
A knock at the door jerked Tarkin out of his thoughts, and he beeped the intruder in. it was one of his aides, looking flustered and a little concerned.
"Governor Tarkin," he said after composing himself. "One of our technicians detected a mole in our computer system. The hacker, whoever it was, managed to get through any security we set up and into the Jedi Temple databases." Tarkin stopped for a moment, carefully considering the aide before him.
"Have our own people managed to trace the attack?" Tarkin asked, watching the boy over steepled fingers.
"Intelligence is working on it as we speak." The aide said stiffly. He opened his mouth to say more, but Tarkin cut him off.
"Let them, but do not allow anyone in our own department to assist." Tarkin said, looking at the boy sharply. "Do everything you can to slow down their efforts. In the meantime, make sure we begin our own investigation into the incident. I want to know as much as possible." The aide, clearly not one to question orders, nodded and exited the room swiftly to carry out Tarkin's orders, while Tarkin, looking thoughtful, returned to his work.
C-41 had been at the hanging around the huge hotel they'd rented to hide out in, relaxing and unwinding for a little bit. Of course, relaxing and unwinding for a clone was more like three weeks of boot camp…but still. The hotel suite they'd rented was large, a small home in and of itself. Nothing like seeing those Republic tax credits at work.
As he was disassembling and wiping down his old friends flechette rifle for the third time, he was disturbed by the quiet sliding the door behind him. Whirling, he drew his blaster pistol from its holster and raised it right into the face of CTA-132 just as the clone brought one of his wrist blades up to his throat.
"Well," CTA-132 growled through his helmet, "This is a new way for a girl to great me when I come back to my apartment."
"Please," C-41 said rolling his eyes. He withdrew his pistol and holstered it with a grunt. "The only girls you've ever seen were in your old unit, bunch of pansies they were." CTA-132 was silent then, and C-41 wondered if he'd gone too far. They'd both lost their entire unit. All their brothers, gone. It was like a hole had been ripped into his stomach, and no matter how much he tried to fill it, it never healed.
"Well," CTA-132 said finally getting to his feet. "I found some very interesting pieces of information on that Temple database, not the least of which is that the signal from that datapad is coming from the Outer Rim, in the this area here." He pointed onto a star map he had pulled up from his wrist datapad, pointing at a cluster of stars just past the Sekena system. Most of the planets there were very backwards and few had any real political power.
"So," C-41 said, getting to his feet, already packing his weapons and set of armor into a small bag. "I suppose we get those mercs up and moving now? What about the kids?"
"We take them with us." CTA-132 said with a small shrug. "Along with the girl. We still need her help if we're going to flush out this kid." C-41 nodded, seeing the logic behind it.
"So, should the mercs go collect her?"
"Yeah," CTA-132 said through his helmet, "After all, that's their job. They do more work so nobody notices a couple of clone troopers showing up wherever these bombings happen." Again, C-41 nodded, and left the room, heading down to where the mercenaries were bunking. Once they were all up and moving to pick up their unwilling addition to the team, C-41 moved up the stairs towards his room. As he walked, he heard voices and instinctively softened his footsteps. It was CTA-132.
"I know you want this padawan." CTA-132 said, probably into a comlink. "And I know there's something different about this one." A pause. "Because I hacked the Temple's databases easily except for one area. Plans, intelligence from the Clone Wars, codes…To be honest, I'm surprised we won the Clone Wars with all that data hanging around. A little scary really. But when I try to get into one little padawans medical files…Bang! It's like I tried to hack the Imperial Intelligence Bureau." He paused again, and then laughed.
"Actually, I did that already. To be honest it was easier than breaking into this kid's medical records. Now, I want to know what's going on. Now!" As C-41 strained to listen, the comlink seemed to buzz loudly. Whoever was on the other line was using their angry voice.
"Understood." CTA-132 said stoically, and clicked his comlink off. Quickly, C-41 snuck back down the stairs as quietly as he could, only stopping when he had made it out and into the lobby of the enormous hotel. As he stood there breathing hard, one question buzzed around his mind; what the heck was going on?
I'll try to update soon.