Chapter X (16 BBY)

Jorec overlooked the targets before him, and felt the weight of the blaster carbine through his arm, sending the sights of the rifle in random directions. He drew in a calming breath and fired a shot towards the target 40 meters in front of him. The red bolt flew from the rifle and struck the outermost ring on the target. The target quickly dropped to the ground, only to be replaced by another 50 meters away. Jorec took aim again and fired another shot. It went wide and slammed into the blue shield at the back of the firing range; a slight shimmer emerged from the site of the hit and rippled throughout the back wall.

A curse escaped Jorec's lips as he watched the shot go wide. For the past two hours he had been practicing his aim, hoping to improve ever so slightly. The sound of blaster fire remained in the room as others kept up their shooting. Jorec closed his eyes and took in a few deep breaths as he tried to keep the memories of that day three years prior buried safely where they were. The people here were not the traitorous clones, they could be relatively trusted. Despite telling himself this, and despite the visits to his psychologist, Jorec still could not entirely get rid of the feelings of uneasiness. And he felt that it would be a long while before he could ever truly be free from those feelings.

Jorec pushed a nearby button and watched as the target dropped to the ground and was replaced by another target just ten meters away. A quick shot sent a blaster bolt into the target ring nearest the center. The second target popped up twenty meters away, and met the same fate.

It had been five months since Jorec had begun to work on his aim with a blaster rifle, a much-needed skill with the hunters that had taken him in. In about another three months he would attempt to become an apprentice to one of the many hunters, the perfect job in Jorec's eyes.

Another target popped up in front of him, this time 40 meters away. The shot came about twenty seconds later, and hit the target near the center. The 50-meter target came up again, and this time was met with a shot on the outermost ring. Jorec had to smile, at last he was getting somewhere.

Two Months Later

"Isn't this a major case of Déjà vu…"

Jorec whispered to himself as he saw the twenty other people in the room impatiently sitting in the chairs waiting for a chance to prove that they had the potential to be an apprentice to one of the few hunters needing one.

In the years after Palpatine's New Order and the end of the Clone Wars, tourism to Selvernos had increased to its regular height. And even though the end of the Clone Wars was three years ago, the Mount Sentiss Hunting Association was still hurting from the conflict. To his left, Jorec could barely see the Wall of Remembrance through a closing door. The Wall was erected soon after the end of the conflict, and the names of 23 employees of the Association that had volunteered to fight for the Republic against the Separatists and had died in the battles that had waged over this planet. A full sixth of the hunters employed at the station had been killed, and the need for new employees to facilitate the regrowth of the industry was desperately needed.

The line shortened as Jorec watched another man take a nasty spill on the agility course, sending medics to take the man and his broken foot to a nearby medical center. A few others in the crowd cringed as they saw the extent of the injury, a slight sliver of bone protruding from the ankle.

Jorec let loose an impatient sigh as the long line slowly dwindled down as more hopefuls tried their best of the many skills of both wilderness knowledge, physical fitness, as well as marksmanship.

"Merridon, Jorec. You're up next."

About time, I've been waiting here for over two hours…

The target was about the same size as the one in the shooting range, yet moved from left to right in a steady movement. The young man followed the target with his sights for a few seconds and then let loose a shot that hit the target dead center. Things were quickly looking up…

Two Hours Later

Jorec had to let loose a slight chuckle as he reentered his apartment after the test. He wiped the sweat off of his forehead and remembered the ease of almost every part of the test. It was true that his former life as a Jedi had provided the skills needed to pass all of the portions of the test, Especially the physical fitness portion of the test, but in his mind Jorec thought that his success today had been purely his own.

He moved into the small bedroom of the apartment and walked over to his closet. He reached into the top partition and soon found the lightsaber he hadn't seen in almost a year. He held the hilt in his left hand, absentmindedly circling it in his hand.

"One must realize that was in the past is in the past, it can never be changed. What lies ahead is the future and that is what can be molded."

Jorec heard these words in his mind, he knew them from somewhere but he had no recollection of where and when at the moment. A lesson in the Jedi Temple, or maybe a book on philosophy he had read somewhere, a great Corellian thinker, or his psychologist perhaps. All he knew at the moment was that those words couldn't be more correct at this time.

Memories flooded into Jorec's mind as he held the lightsaber in his hand; training at the Temple with several other students in how to use the Force properly, the lightsaber training he received at the Temple. Despite the first few happy memories, the memories of that terrible day seemed to come back to haunt him. Tears came to his eyes as the sound of the clone troopers gunfire echoed throughout his brain, the sound of the three other Jedi being slaughtered while he fled…

No… that was no cowardly act. The other Jedi knew what they were doing, sacrificing themselves so that at least one Jedi would survive the horror of the betrayal. But in a way, no Jedi survived what had happened. Jorec realized how deeply changed he had been as a result of the attack, the mental scars that still ran deep despite of the psychological help he received, the near inability to truly trust someone, the nightmares that still haunted him, and the fear that those nightmares were something other than simple dreams.

The brief remembrance of the event that had triggered the resurgence of these feelings, watching a local news program at the white armored troopers marching in front of an almost sickly looking old man. It was a parade of some sort on Coruscant, footage of the most recent Empire Day almost a month ago.

He looked down at the lightsaber in his hands, and saw not the elegant weapon and a former symbol of respect, but he saw a crutch. The last bit of an old life that was slowly attempting to pull him away from the new life he had just begun. It was a weak spot, Jorec thought, something that can be used against me. Something that can only bring me more pain…

The lightsaber seemed to grow heavy in his hand as he walked to the trash receptacle. Jorec held his lightsaber over it, preparing to shed the final vestiges of his former life, the life that he felt truly ended three years ago.

His right hand began to shake as he slowly loosened his grip on the lightsaber. This time, he would be able to do it, this time would be different.

He stood there for five minutes, seemingly unable to find the final bit of courage to assign the fifteen-year old blade to an incinerator somewhere on the planet.

With a thud, the lightsaber fell to the carpeted floor several centimeters from the trash bin and rolled towards Jorec's foot. A choked sob came from Jorec as he looked at the discarded lightsaber on the tan carpet. Three times before he had tried to destroy this part of his old life, and three times he failed. It almost seemed as if he could never fully destroy his past, but that he had to eventually learn to live with it…

And that thought frightened Jorec.