Chapter 12: Two Months and counting

»Left. Right. Swing down, dodge away. Jump… avoid hitting the weapons rack… roll across floor and under opponent's guard. Get soundly kicked in ribs. Dodge again, avoid burning back with lightsaber. Go in again...and again… and again….

I have always been a practical person, and when after that Rhen Var thing it finally got to me that no, this was not a first-person quest where the health power-up was around the corner and all I had to do was collect Light Side points, I came to the conclusion that this stay would not be anything even remotely resembling a walk in the park.

One would think that upon discovering 'reality' I would be distraught about not getting home anytime soon, or ecstatic over getting to be a Jedi, but the only thing that I could summon was a Vader-esque "NOOOOOOOO!"

What all those armchair adventurists fail to recognise in their literary works is that between the Battle of Naboo and roughly in one's lifespan, there would be the Clone Wars, Galactic Civil War, Black Fleet Crisis, Almanian uprising, Yuuzhan Vong War, Dark Nest nonsense, the Second Galactic Civil War, the Abeloth nonsense and the Kesh Sith. If you are extremely lucky, you could also enjoy a front-row seat to the rise of the One Shit and the numerous wars in what the authors dub the 'Legacy Era'. That of course, is if you survive that long…. And really, surviving is what it is all about, not saving everyone from certain doom or becoming said doom, but surviving.

When we got back to the Temple, my focus immediately turned to ensuring that I could weather the coming years, and believe you me, when you actually care about it, Jedi training package is not easy.

First and foremost is etiquette, both among Jedi and various cultures and common instances. This is one thing I'd have rather skipped, as my version is easier; you don't bite my head off, I don't take off yours. But really, that is nothing. It gets worse when it comes to languages. Instead of one or two like back home, the Jedi system calls for you to be literate in at least six and fluent in four more.

Then there is piloting. I agree with Obi-Wan Kenobi; I hate flying. Especially when we are talking Coruscant… Imagine the worst traffic jam you have ever seen, than say it is fifty layers or so and all the vehicles are moving at highway speeds. That would be a nice day on Galactic City.

Mechanics is another one of those itty-bitty things you have to know. When it comes to the standard courses, it's all good, but anything advanced to the point of hyperdrives and cloaking shields, and you've lost me. Still, I've met people who were much worse, and I guess mechanics is why Anakin is around.

Slash. Parry. Strike. Leap back. Course regarding hitting head on cupboard. Dodge aside, release Force-Push, get flattened against wall, try again…

And if you think that is enough, there is the actual Jedi package. I am lucky in that regard – well, as there is no such thing as luck, the Force must be with me – but were it not for my Knowledge Syphon, there would be no way I could actually get enough skills to fight in the Clone Wars.

As ever though, nothing is free, and sooner or later I will have to start doing this naturally or risk going of the deep end. And I certainly do not need to become a fruitcake in my teenage years.

It still astounds me, how I got into the Order at my age, but with this little venture I have learned not to question lucky breaks when they come my way. No point asking irrelevant questions when in less than six years, I'm going to be up to my ears in blaster bolts.

»The training session ended rather anticlimactically, with me having to turn off half my saberstaff to avoid slicing myself in half. Master Adi was there, I managed to dodge her first lunge, but she got me on the second. Not cool, not cool at all.

»It has only been eighty-nine standard days since I dropped in on Nanth'ri, in other words, I am as far from ready as anyone can be, but brainless politicians, the Council, and the Force, do not seem to care or consider such things.

Some overly pompous moron wants a member of the Jedi High Council to be present at the Vandelhelm Trade Conference, and the Council just must accept. And since it must be such a mundane mission, they want the new guy to go, 'to get hands-on experience of what it means to be a Jedi' they tell me. Do they realise that that is so not reassuring? When the word 'mundane' crops up, the mission is anything but.

»Public perception, apparently, is a very important part of being a Jedi. Who would have thought that just plain old robes and saber were not enough? No, we must obtain an 'official' transport, and that means a Consular-class cruiser.

Luckily the one we were assigned did not have that horrendous pale-red paintjob. As with many things I have come to discover, ship colours and emblems are in reality far from what we see in Essential Guides and other illustrations.

Speaking of shoddy facts, when – it is not a matter of 'if' – I get back to Earth, I will have to remember to be very grumpy. As a result of supposedly canonical material, I have embarrassed myself on several occasions.

Obi-Wan Kenobi is not a wallowing moron who thinks the Sith are his fault. Anakin Skywalker is not a psychopathic maniac with the urge to kill every Tom, Dick, and Harry and the fear of failing everyone and everything. Mace Windu is not a heartless reincarnation of a dragon, and Yoda, well he's more like the Dagobah loony then the Grand Master from the Menace.

Aayla Secura actually has some decency, Quinlan Vos is rather friendly if a bit boisterous, Shaak Ti is more orange then red, and Jedi in general are jovial folks inside the Temple.

Pity I actually believed those books rather than feeling everyone's character out for myself. Were it not for the Dead Council and their miraculous ability to fiddle around with people's memories, I would have been neck-deep in bantha poodoo with all the blunders I've made.

»Getting a diplomatic ship all to ourselves seemed like a passably good idea at the time, well hyeah, that changed when we reached orbit and were attempting to get hyperspace clearance. I just don't get it, hyperspace collisions are rare, right? So, what do we need clearance for? The odds of us choosing the exact hyperspace tunnel as another ship are approximately seven-hundred and fifty-million to one. And clearance or no clearance, when two ships stop for a chat in hyperspace, well that's permanent.

The ship, Radiant XXIII – yep, the Jedi sure run out of ships fast, even without Anakin's help – was a good hundred and fifteen meters long, and navigating it in the tangled web of Coruscant's orbital plane was not a job for first-year fliers, so lucky me, I got to sit this one out. Sadly, I don't think I will be able to avoid that fate when we reach our destination, Master Adi says I must learn to fly, or I will have to swindle myself off and onto planets, and that just would not do for a Jedi.

»Yet another inconsistency that has resolved since my arrival is that of Jedi techniques themselves. No, I haven't started waxing philosophical, Force forbid, but I have come to one general, well, conclusion I guess. It is not particularly a technique that is hard to learn, but its mastery that takes effort.

For instance, I got the basic premise behind Force-assisted gymnastics in my second or third week, but to this date I cannot seem to avoid falling on my butt more often than not. The mental patterns are flawless Master says, but I just don't have the control. And indeed, it is all about control. You can know the most advanced abilities, and still fail abysmally if you don't have control. Another good reason for not becoming a Sith; while you are busy with yellow eyes your sense of balance is shot out the airlock.

Saber drills are no better. It might be said that I have a near eidetic memory, but it's like seeing someone drive a car, and actually doing it yourself. As a matter of fact, I haven't tried that on Earth, so the motorists were safe. That's off topic, even if I have perfect recall and "understanding" of my lessons, I still have the hallmarks of a shoddy swordsman.

On the bright side, I got my Shii Cho katas down perfectly just last week, no great achievement I know, Form I being the simplest there is, but still, if feels me with a little pride. Djem So seems to be coming rather easily, with its propensity for brute Force, but all the finesse that that form possesses is still quite a ways away from me.

I tried Ataru out, but that ended up with a burned rear and bruised shins, I will endeavour to keep up a passable skill level in the form, but only enough to be hold my own against the average opponent. Master Adi being a shien practitioner, it seems as the most efficient form to learn; I can get fancy once knighted – if I get that far.

And I say that, because I feel about as far from a Jedi now as I can, sprawled over a set of crates, both of my sabers somewhere in the distance and a glowing blue blade in my face. I still have much to learn, I'm a very young Padawan learner.

»The starlines shrank back into stars and I remarked to myself that a few more trips and the sight would lose all of its splendour. Especially because a reversion from hyperspace meant that I was in charge of the controls.

Adi Gallia is one of the best pilots in the Order, I have no doubt in her ability to teach me the intricacies of flight, but that is no comfort when I am at the helm of a very big ship and have to land it without killing primarily us, and everyone else as an afterthought.

"Search the Force for guidance, it will tell you where to put your hands, don't try to find everything with your eyes. It may not be an option in some situations…."

"Yeah, and the Force may not be an option in some situations, like on Myrkr for instance…. And how do I search the Force while still flying, I cannot immerse myself, I still need consciousness for interaction with the real world…" my reply would have been considered short by anyone. It would have gotten me a thorough reprimand had the Jedi been anything like my preconceptions, actually if would've gotten a 'Kid, did you eat something last night?' from the real deal, but Master Adi gave me neither. That's what I respect and admire about her, she never gets that standoffish teaching attitude to which so many are prone. She knows me well enough to recognise that my acerbic nature is rarely directed at anyone, more like at the situation.

"Don't close your eyes… That's the last thing you want. Don't ask the Force for anything, it does not work in direct concepts. Don't focus on your need to fly, focus on one thing to the exception of all else usually ends badly, just gently centre on your goal like I showed you. Keep it before you, but don't lose sight of the periphery. That's good, now feel that urge to dial up on the engine output, do it…."

I did as instructed, choosing my next action and having an unseen Force guide my right hand to the right controls almost of its own volition. "Ah, but how do I know the Force from say, an urge to go to the bathroom?'

"Our teachings would suggest that with experience you will know, but I'm a little dubious as to how good advice that is. In hindsight many situations might have been different had a Jedi stopped to think…" I could have sworn that I heard an ethereal chuckle somewhere, and my thoughts turned to my induction into the Order. Different indeed, different indeed… "But as you yourself have often pointed out," Master Adi continued, "it's always a good idea to think before acting. The Force is no excuse for lack of rationality, remember that, my young Padawan learner…."

I smirked, that was a quote I would long remember. Increasing the output to the drives when I felt confident enough, I approached the rock at a legal but increased speed and for once didn't curse when I got a hale from down below.

"Vandel Tower, Ambassadorial transport Radiant two-three requesting insertion vector and birthing at Helm Spaceport, over." My voice had adopted a clipped, what would later be dubbed the 'Imperial-stick-up-a-rear', accent and I had fallen back into the comm traffic patterns picked up from one too many episodes of Mayday.

"Rádiant tuu-thrii, Vándil Tuwir. Squawker cunfirmid. Clearid for Hilm Spacipurt. Cuuridinits sint. Hiv a niss day, ovir…"

"Vandel Tower, Radiant two-three. Rodger cleared for Helm Spaceport, coordinates received. Two-three out." I angled the ship for re-entry, decelerated and settled in to wait the few blind seconds in which I would see naught but my shields flaring.

Just above the cloud layer I cut off my sublights and set them to atmo output. We were far too high for the repulsors at this altitude. "You see," Master Adi congratulated, prematurely in my opinion, "You can do it…"

"Oh this is not the fun part, the fun part is actually landing…" a minute later I activated my comm. "Helm Arrival, Radiant two-three clearing eight-hundred…"

"Rádiant tuu-thrii, Vándil Tuwir, go for eight-hundrid. Final approach clear."

At the Force's guidance I keyed in the repulsors and set the Dyne 557s to wind down. Mumentum would carry us forward and the repulsors would keep us airborne. Three surprisingly stress less minutes and I was faced with the parallel parking of a one-hundred meter monster of a ship with jets only.

Somehow I managed it, though I might have scratched someone's paint, but all in all, we were down and in one piece. "I told you that you could do it!" Master Adi praised, "you see, no air traffic and you have landed perfectly…"

"Hyeah, and why did you twitch a finger several times during the landing?"

"Technicality!" was the inelegant retort, followed by the swirl of a cloak. "Come along, we don't want to be late with these corporate types…"

»Oh yes, corporate meetings, the vilest things after politics and Sith. There is more backstabbing going on here than on a bad Bothan market day. Everyone is fighting tooth and claw – sometimes literally – for every stinking decicred.

Mission material has it that Vandelhelm was discovered roughly three thousand years ago, was named after two Jos called Vandel and Helm, became a not insignificant trading hub in part due to the shipwrights and apparently hosts some of the more prestigious hotels and offices for many corporations this end of the Rimma. In essence, this is a mini Muunilist.

The Vandelhelm Biannual Trade Conference was renowned for gathering any and all enterprises worth a credit from around the surrounding sectors. The convocations tended to get a little hairy in the early stages, but the rowdy bunches were usually evicted by security and everything proceeded relatively bloodlessly. This year promised to be an exception for whatever reason.

In theory Dooku's agitations were on the other side of the galaxy, and the Hutts did not seem to be taking any major interests down this way, but nevertheless RimRoutes Trading Company, Helmwrights Inc. and Edge's Edge Enterprises felt a little paranoid this time. I don't really get why they did not tell us – the Jedi sent to protect their sorry rears – what they feared, but they insisted emphatically on Jedi babysitting the proceedings.

Master Adi, as a member of the High Council was to be present in the conference hall for 'reassurance' and in my private thoughts as an intimidation piece between the bickering factions, and I the unknown quantity of minute importance had the lovely job of being the door guard.

Note the sarcasm there, half an hour into the 'talks' I really, really, wanted to bash a few heads together, but in the interests of not inciting trans-sector pandemonium I reluctantly restrained myself.

Instead my amusement turned out to be the stacks of plasteel chairs, rows of trestle tables and the refreshment implements on the sideboards. It was fun levitating chairs and moving them around and around. It gave me exercise in control and good practice, and practice is definitely a thing of which it is good to have a lot.

»The day is at an end and I can finally retire. By now I am extremely jealous of clone troopers, stormtroopers, Mandalorians and Boba Fett. I am rather jealous of anyone who ever wore a helmet in the SWU, heck, I am even jealous of Vader.

The very simple reason is that corporate discussions would drive even Master Yoda up a wall, or maybe him first? I almost wish for something to have happened today, not that someone would have gotten hurt, but at least some excitement. Yes I know what Yoda said, "Excitement, adventure, a Jedi craves not these things" but I have an inkly little feeling that Yoda deliberately spends time in the nurseries to avoid all this nonsense.

I seal the window and door into my rather scruffy-looking quarters, put a proximity concussion mine in the anteroom, weld shut the vents and maintenance access ports with my lightsaber, disarm three dioxis canisters in the closet and the one in the fresher, cram something into an unexplained tube to avoid any friendly visits, dispose of two kouhuns in the pantry, decide that my bed isn't exactly a safe place to sleep in and find that some twit but a dart launcher into the kettle. In other words, excitement aplenty for me... No idea if someone did not like me or if these lovely rooms were for some other fellow, but I suddenly get this cliché bad feeling about this….

»I do survive the night, but I did give the night porter a scare when I put a lightsaber across his throat in the kitchens. It was not my fault! He should have announced his presence when he entered, not skulked like some kind of guilty person. I did question him a little, and it appears that the suite I was occupying was destined for a delegation from Subterral who's trip was cancelled for unspecified reasons. Good to hear I am not on anyone's hitlist, but this stinks really fishy, and the Quarren party isn't the prime cause.

Day Two is going to be such a drag…. Still if I get Master Adi on the case, maybe she will gain some insight. It is not a joking matter when a Jedi is nearly assassinated, still the attempt could have been more convincing, because I am an amateur, and amateurs don't last as long as I have. There is something to be read between the lines I think, only question is who wrote it, why dos not matter, only who.

»This time I come prepared. Commlink signals would be tracked, that I know, so I revert to an old-fashioned way of doing things, inserting a small ear bud into my left ear and hiding the cable in the nerftail of hair that has begun to grow out. With hood raised I am the very image of an aloof Jedi, inscrutable features hidden in the shadows of my cowl and hands folded into opposite sleaves.

That's at least the image people see when they bother to look my way. A very wise man once said – not sure, it might have been me – that lying outright is the easiest way to get caught, let a person's mind create their own lie from what they see, less effort for you. As I the silent sentinel stand in the entrance alcove, motionless to the casual eye, no-one knows that the cable behind my ear runs into a datapad that can either intercept comm waves or play that nice new album from Corellia. And certainly no-one knows that concealed within my sleeves, fingers twitching in rhythm with a synthesised "Duel of the Fates" melody, twitching and rolling a set of marbles beneath the conference table.

Indistinctly and half unconsciously I begin to mumble the lyrics, "…Nyohah Keelah Korah Rahtahmah, Syadho Keelah Korah Rahtahmah, Korah Daanyah Korah, Rahtahmah…."

And that's chapter 12 - 13 - 12.

The thing with self-inserts is to avoid doing the Mary-Sue thing, not sure what that is called for guys, but you get the picture.

It takes a lot of thought to explain how the main protagonist got all his fancy powers and how being a noob he did not get his shebs shot off.

That's the part I am having problems with; I am not sure if Padawan Sunrider is realistic in his endeavours. Still I tried to emphasis his falibility and need to learn like everyone else. That last is actually what accounts for the lack of much action, he needs to learn how to fight before he can actually do anything real. When he raided Thorgo's place in chapter 8, he was grumpy, using a blaster not a lightsaber, and the thugs were pathetic, and Rhen Var was just a manifistation of the Force.

With two months of extensive knowlege transfers under his belt, next chapter is going to be some good ol' fashion Jedi Business that should lead to some not insignificant developments for our young friend.

Expect to see a familiar rainy planet to show up in the near future, and keep in mind that the more Sunrider learns, the more he can actually do, and unlike airheaded fans, his life mission is not to be the Galaxy's sole savior.

I have Book Two sort-of outlined, and without going overboard here, I foresee some classic Star Wars-storytelling in the latter parts of this story and Book Two. And by classic I mean big ships, bigger explosions and amputated limbs all across the Galaxy.

May the Fiction Be With You Folks!

Clean word count: 3,501 | Posted May the 14th, 1345 hours GMT