PART 1: ORIGINS

CHAPTER 1: THE MAN IN RED

Ganner Slarwalker

42 BBY

As an infant, I was given to the Jedi from my birth world of Dantooine. I had a pretty 'average' experience, as much as a Jedi can really have, until I was finally given a Master. His name was Jason Battleboots.

Jason was one of the most kindhearted people I ever knew. He was a living proof that there was always a good side to everything, that maybe, just maybe, peace really was possible. He never killed unless it was absolutely necessary, and more than once he managed to redeem our opponents.

But it didn't always work.

It was, what, twenty-two years before the Empire? Twenty-three? We'd been assigned to bring in a small-time (or so we thought) underworld criminal named Garm Antiburst, had been selling spices illegally. We already knew where he was, we just had to capture him and bring him to the proper authorities.

It's all coming back to me now. I remember it so vividly.

Jason and I were about a block away, checking out the building from afar. I put the microbinoculars down and offered them to him, but he declined. It was just as well; there wasn't anything noteworthy on the outside from what I saw. I remember watching him take off his hood and looking into the world with his dark brown eyes, his sand blonde hair blowing in the wind before saying "Let's go."

He cut a hole into the ceiling with his dark blue saber, and we both dropped in. We landed back to back in defensive stances, surrounded on all sides by armed thugs and I activated my own lightsaber. Its emerald blade shot to life, lighting the room blue and green. "No one has to get hurt," Jason said. A tan man with a mohawk in red Mandalorian armor walked out to greet us.

"Garm," I muttered.

"Indeed," Jason replied.

"Well, well, well. Look what we have here. We finally got big-time enough for them to call in their so-call peacekeepers. Tell you what. I'll give you guys thirty seconds to vanish, and then we'll see just how much peace you can keep."

"We're not leaving without you under arrest and your shipment seized by the Republic."

He laughed. "All yours, boys!"

The henchmen opened fire. Jason and I synchronized in the Force, deflecting the shots harmlessly across the compound, and then we broke off, non-lethally neutralizing the thugs. Garm began to run, but Jason deflected a shot into his leg, making him fall to the ground. Finally, when the dust settled, Jason and I deactivated our lightsabers, and he handcuffed Garm. "Blue Force, this is White Rook. We've got him." he said.
"Copy that. We'll be there in a minute to extract."
After a minute (they were surprisingly punctual), the CSF arrived. They took Garm, and Jason and I stayed to wrap everything up. As the CSF began to open crates, I felt something looming in the Force. Judging from his reaction, Jason did too. "Stay back," he warned, and he began to walk forward. In the corner of my eye, I saw a red flash - a bomb. Then, the entire building went up in flames as the boxes exploded.

I went flying from the impact, but I was barely hurt. Jason had to have done something to protect me in his last moments. I remember how I sat there, utterly in shock, for what felt like centuries. Eventually, another CSF officer was the first on the scene. His hair was covered but he had a worn face, with dark brown eyes and a long moustache that went from end to end on his face. He saw the destruction, cursed, and then began getting me up and trying to help me regain my senses.

"You're all right son, you're all right."

I wasn't, though. Things were never the same after that.

The Order was very generous with helping me with the PTSD. This was back before the Clone Wars, when death wasn't the norm. I went through a lot of meditation along with the therapy. I don't know what the Order saw in me to believe I was still worth keeping around even after something that could've potentially ruined me forever.
In the meantime, I got a new Master. He was an Arcona named Sen Qorbin. Master Qorbin's teaching style was quite different from Jason's. Though all Jedi were, at heart, meant to maintain the peace, Qorbin was more on the aggressive peacekeeping side. He taught me hand-to-hand combat: martial arts - Ter s K si - and more regular street fighting. Then I learned the art of the blade.

Under Qorbin I learned each of the seven forms of lightsaber dueling. The training was far from easy, and I was certainly better at some forms than others, but he taught me to blend them all in a fight - something I'm grateful for.

Eventually, however, every Padawan had their trials. Jacen and Qorbin had taught me two different ways to view the Force, different ways to utilize it, and different ways to let it utilize me. A few more missions went by with nothing especially of note. Justice was withheld, casualties kept to a minimum, peace restored. Jacen's death was behind me now, but I projected his legacy. Eventually the Council deemed me ready, and my trials began.