Disclaimer: Anything having anything to do with any previously printed Star Wars material does not belong to me. It either belongs to George Lucas or the author of the story in which it appears
Below him, something glistened in the murky water. As he swam towards it, the image came into focus. A crystal of the quality he had never seen before lay at the pool's bottom. He reached out his hand, but the crystal was too far away. The tentacle still attached to his foot was firmly stuck on shore. Finally, after struggling in vain for a few seconds, he reached inside himself to tap the spark of power simmering there. He reached out again using his gathered power pulling the crystal towards himself…
A loud noise shook him from his sleep. Merik Steele looked around his room at the Yulor-Minw City Orphanage to discover the source of the sound that woke him. He was a thin eighteen year-old human of average height with an angular face and a slightly crooked nose from a fight years ago. His muscles flexed as he levered himself out of his bunk landing lightly on his feet. Then, he saw the source of the noise. The clay pot that usually sat on his desk lay shattered on the floor at the foot of his bed.
He did not have long to contemplate this strange sight because a knock sounded at the door. "Enter," he said as he walked over to his closet and grabbed a sleeveless shirt from his closet. The door hissed open, and Mistress Muras, the manager of the orphanage, walked into the room. "Four hours," she said tossing a datapad onto Merik's bed. "Four hours 'til what?" Merik asked walking over to the bed and picking up the datapad. His eyes widened a full centimeter when he read the first words. Application accepted.
Merik had sent an application to Beliren Military Academy standard weeks before, and he was not expecting a letter back for another. "You have four hours to gather all of your belongings and leave. You are to report to the Academy five hours after noon." Merik glanced at the wall chronometer. Ten hours. Ten hours to say good bye to his old life, and begin his life as a military officer. Mistress Muras turned and walked out of the room, leaving Merik with his thoughts.
For eleven years, Merik had lived as an orphan, and he had survived. No. He had thrived. The five years he had spent on the street before being sent to the orphanage had hardened him to the realities of life. When his parents died in the Phantien plague, he had been thrust into a large world he could not comprehend. Now, he had taken his first step into an even larger world and found firm ground under his feet.
Nine and a half hours later, Merik stood before the gates of the Academy. His new life awaited beyond those doors. With a deep sigh, as if trying to blow away his past life, Merik Steele pushed through the doors and into the Academy.
