"Focus, Rosan!"
Master Tel'Mar sprouted from his hovering observer-chair. The afternoon sun began to partially hide behind the temple steeple. The padawan steadied his training blade in his hands, the practice droid met his gaze with gold, calculated mechanisms that served for ocular receptors.
"The droid will not go easy on you. Let us see if all that talk in the classroom is true."
He hoped it was. Rosan should have known his teacher would call his bluff and put him to the test. In the middle of his galactic studies course, he bravely pouted that he would become the greatest swordsman the Order had seen since Grandmaster Skywalker himself. The girls laughed and the boys sighed, but Master Tel'Mar looked down on him and raised a hand to cease the commotion, asking Rosan to meet him in the courtyard after class for rudimentary training. Somehow, he sensed that this was the straw that broke the tauntaun's back. He had been flunking his academic courses and grew a fondness for mouthing off to his superiors.
A teenage angst had overcome him when he arrived at the temple with Master Janus three years prior and had only grown more feverous as time went on. Rosan, a fifteen-year-old scamp was taken away from a world of poverty on the Mid-rim planet of Miztoc for a position in the ranks of the new Jedi Order during a search for force-sensitives. From early in his life, he could never mistake the call of the Force that others did not have. Yet mastering this sensation was still only a dream in his mind, never realistically applying it to his own story. Yavin IV, the Praxeum, and all the bustle of the recently installed academy had taken him by surprise when he first arrived with bright eyes. The Jedi were things of legend back on Miztoc. His home-world was liberated by the Alliance three years before his birth, but the Order was supposedly extinct and constant reinforcement of the idea of this extinction was paraded through the Empire's propaganda that had once adorned every wall and street screen. The shock to learn that this was not true, but the work of evil that had grasped the Galaxy for decades was hard to swallow for the newly anointed initiate. Janus told him he need not worry his mind with the past; as it was just that.
The droid waited for the padawan to make the first move. Taking a Shii-Cho stance, he gave the droid a quick slash which was easily deflected. Rosan smiled slightly as the droid faltered for a moment to recover but was caught off-guard by the flurry of sweeping strikes. Rosan backed away from the Ataru dance and looked to his master with annoyance. Tel'Mar sat stonily, rubbing his chin. Dodging the strikes and sweeps with all his ability, the padawan managed to only get a few weak blows in before being battered on the left thigh with the searing heat that left his skin slightly blistered. The training blade found its target again on his left shoulder and swooped down to his right calf. Rosan yelped out in pain and fell over on his backside, his weapon scattering across the ground. He glanced up as the droid prepared to come down with a strike on top of his head, quickly rolling backwards and pushing himself back onto his feet with a vaulting handstand.
The droid looked up from where his blade hit the chalky ground and barreled towards him. He looked to his right as called for his blade to return to him with a pull of force energy, reaching his off-hand just in time. He braced for impact and blocked the droids slash, entering a saber lock.
Impressive, padawan. Very impressive, the Master thought.
Rosan struggled to battle the strength of the droid, but its level was set higher than he ever would have thought for a budding Jedi to overcome. He was losing ground. Breaking free from the lock, the droid swept him off his feet again with a kick of its metal leg against his and this time there was no escape. The droid brought down the training tool to his chest but stopped right before it managed to pierce his robe. Rosan lay sweating, opening one eye when the singeing heat never came. Quickly, he channeled a quick push of the force that sent the droid twirling off the ground a few feet and lending on its face. Master Tel'Mar stood up and approached his student. Rosan stood with his eyes to the ground, head bowed.
Tel'Mar looked with curiosity. His brown skin and dark, curly hair glimmered in the sun, contrasting his robes of creamy white and glistening teal. He spoke in a monotone voice.
"See those wounds tended too, Rosan. I want to see you at the library come dusk. I have something to show you," Tel'Mar's voice was low and methodical as it always was. He bowed to Rosan and headed towards the magnificent temple where other Jedi were conversing between its pillars. Rosan wiped the sweat off his forehead and turned back towards the dormitories, but not before giving the deactivated droid a slight kick with his foot in anger.
Rosan entered the Great Library with slight hesitation. He never liked these ominous meetings, as they either ended with a scolding or a long-winded lesson from his teacher; not knowing which one he thought was more of a punishment. Spanning multiple floors filled with aisles of retained Jedi knowledge, the Great Library was the second archival initiative the Jedi Order had taken since the retaking of the Jedi Archives on Coruscant. Master Tel'Mar stood at the end of one of the aisles, conversing with deputy linguist Ho-Gun Zal on some matter. Master Zal was a tall man with jet black hair, long enough to be tied in a neat tail that ended halfway down his back. His lightsaber was more of a symbol of respect rather than a defense weapon, as he spent most of his time buried in the databases rather than on a battlefield.
Tel'Mar peered over Ho-Gun's shoulder and noticed his apprentice as Rosan greeted him. Ho-Gun turned to the boy and bowed as well, his towering figure overlooking Rosan like a wroshyr tree.
"Master Tel'Mar told me quite the story, padawan. You lasted longer than my apprentice on that difficulty setting. I'm very impressed!"
"Thank you, Master Zal. It was the Atura stance that caught me off guard, I am still only beginning my Form II training. That droid wouldn't have lasted a minute if it had been a fair fight," Rosan said, glaring at Tel'Mar.
"Well, at least the other students were not there to see it. After what your master has told me, you talked up quite a storm in your last class."
Tel'Mar sighed, "I believe it is time I show young Rosan why I had him do that in the first place, Ho-Gun. Good luck sorting out the new data transfer from Coruscant, I heard they are bringing the next thousand volumes of The Histories of the Way and they need some unscrambling. Imperial propaganda took quite a toll on it."
"Correct. I will let you know as soon as the first dozen volumes are done and ready to read at your pleasure, Master. May the Force be with you."
"And with you," Tel'Mar said and bowed his head. "Come with me, padawan."
They walked through the doors leading to the back atrium where only a few students sat at various tables, reading. They paid no mind to the pair as they walked to the back of the room. They came upon a closed door that Tel'Mar opened with press of a few buttons on the command consol. Rosan sensed a slight nervousness in his master but was not fully sure. He had always had trouble reading the emotions and thoughts of others. The Force spoke to him in a way like an infant speaks to an adult, barely understandable, but still possible to make out words. He practiced every night in his meditation, but it was a slow process.
They came upon a dark room, illuminated by a faint glow from above, the room was no bigger than a small closet, but in the center sat a glimmering cube of blue and green, a holocron under a glass case upon a podium. Tel'Mar shifted towards it while Rosan waited in the doorway to see what was going to happen. Tel'Mar took the cube from under the glass and beckoned his student to come closer with a waving hand. Rosan step forward as the door shut behind him and approached him. The holocron sat in his master's cupped hands.
"Rosan, this holocron contains a painful, but important truth that all Jedi must follow. Instilled by the Grandmaster himself, it is a tenant of the Jedi Code we all live each day. Something you have seemed to be struggling with the day you started training as a youngling. It is pride, my padawan. Pride is a prime evil that leads down a path of darkness. There is no pride in a Jedi, only servitude to the light."
Rosan rolled his eyes.
"I can sense that this bores you young one, but this is a lesson you will remember for the rest of your days - Serving others instead of taking for personal gain. Doing deeds that offer no rewards, selflessness that offers no comfort, these are the things that make the Order a beacon in a world of grey."
Rosan shifted his posture and tensed up slightly.
"But Master, we have already talked about this. I know that once I finally have my lightsaber I- "
Tel'Mar cut him off, "That is not what a Jedi strives for… This holocron contains the consequences of one such Jedi and his temptation that lead down a bath of destruction. We reserve this for knight initiates as a final reminder before they go out into the galaxy and represent our Order, but I think it is proper to show you now so that you may realize the damage this sin can cause."
Tel'Mar pressed on the mechanism and it made a mechanic whirl while an exploding glow of light shot from all six sides of the cube. It filled the dimly lit room with energy that took the form of a holographic scenario on the podium where two figures appeared. One was on his knees whilst the other stood behind him. He did not recognize either of the figures but continued to watch as a scene played put.
The figure standing behind the kneeling man was in all black, a cape draped over his shoulders and a mask covered his face, but he could sense the figure was not of the light. It was a Sith lord interrogating the man. The Sith raised his hand and the man levitated off the ground, clutching at his throat while the masked figure began to speak:
"After all this time, you still never learned that a Jedi cannot hide his true self, even after cutting himself from the fabric of the Force. Renouncing your biological call is the coward's way and it will serve no one who is truly worthy to wield its power. My master has orchestrated the eradication of your Order and fulfilled the destiny of the dark side. Weak philosophies are overcome with the might of will, strength, and emotion, my old friend. I only wish you had seen that when I offered you the chance…"
The masked figure closed his fist, clearly cutting off any air from the floating man's windpipe. His legs began kicking at nothing while one arm outstretched towards Rosan, but this was just a hologram, he thought.
"Now look upon the face of your defeat," the masked figure said. He removed the mask, but the face became blurred to Rosan and Tel'Mar. The floating man turned and looked down, gasping for life. His eyes darted around before falling upon the face, a look of sadness and anguish overcame it before relaxing. With a twist of the Sith's hand, the head snapped at an odd angle and the body dropped to the floor in the form of a crumpled carcass.
The holocron cut out and all that was left was the whirring of the holocron sucking back in the energy it had expelled. Rosan stood silently before realizing he had been completely still for the duration of the recording. Tel'Mar placed the holocron back under the glass and placed a hand on the boy's shoulder, coming down to his level. He studied the boy's face before speaking again.
"You may think that skipping lessons and ignoring orders are a small infraction in the grand scheme of things that be, Rosan, but we are here for one purpose and one purpose only: to rebuild what was taken from us."
"Who was that, Tel'Mar? That masked man?"
"Someone close to Master Skywalker. A man whose pride and selfishness consumed him from the inside. The reason we are so few now is due to his actions. We are all capable of making the same mistakes that man made. You, Me, and every Jedi in this academy will be tempted by the dark side in our travels, but a Jedi knows their way through commitment to the light."
"But how could a man with such hatred be acquainted with Master Skywalker? He would never willingly engage with that, would he?"
"Master Skywalker is a good man and an even better teacher to all of us, my apprentice. You are correct. He would never willingly entertain the company of darkness if he had the choice… but the choice was not his to make," Tel'Mar said, standing back up straight and heading towards the door. Rosan followed him.
"Master?"
"It was his own father. Anakin Skywalker was the greatest Jedi of his time, but even the greatest are not fully protected by the enchantment of the Sith. Luke has given the Order permission to share his story to enlightenment as an ultimate act of success, failure, and redemption."
"Redemption? Anakin came back to the light?"
"Failure is not an absolute, young one. It is only the end of a chapter. It is up to the individual to determine whether it is the final chapter. Anakin saved Master Skywalker from a Dark Lord by destroying the him and sacrificing himself. He saved the Galaxy and gave the Alliance the momentum of victory."
Rosan paused for a moment and took his master's wisdom.
"The Emperor?" Rosan felt a chill run down his spine as this news struck him with a rush of bewilderment. "Master Skywalker's father served the Emperor…"
"Indeed, young one."
As they exited the library, the large red-orange gas giant took up a huge portion of the sky, swirling and morphing before their eyes. It covered the night in a slight reddish hue as the last of the Jedi began returning to their dormitories. Tel'Mar unhooked his lightsaber and held it in his hand. A smile crept across his face.
"You know, young one; I sense great things inside of you… But what troubles me the most is your brashness. Your pride. A Jedi doesn't take pride in themselves; a Jedi sees their influence in the balance of the Force. They choose to do good not because they feel it is necessary to earn respect and reward. They choose to do good simply because it is what the light wills."
The young apprentice looked down at his feet and a shame came over him. He sensed every word from his master he believed to be true, but also a feeling of disappointment underneath.
"Master, I want to do good."
"Then do good but know why you do good."
He sighed, "I'm sorry for interrupting class. I don't want to be like Master Skywalker's father. In fact, I don't want to be the best like Master Skywalker. I want to be the best me."
"This is all I can ask of you, young one," Tel'Mar said with a grin and rubbed the boy's head.
