— Chapter 1: Humble Beginnings —
The planet of Coruscant lay in the heart of the known galaxy, proudly standing amid the core systems as the place The Republic called home. A once-mountainous and lush world, washed away by ever-expanding oceans, the past millennia had rendered its natural surface unseen under swathes of bureaucratic architecture. Few documents remained to describe the days before the planet had become the galaxy's biggest ecumenopolis, and only the squatters and so-called 'street rats' of the city's underbelly - who dwelled miles beneath the expensive, golden surface of the city, beneath industrial pipeworks and artificial caverns of water - were rumoured to have glimpsed long-dead patches of grass and plant life.
But the citizens of the upper city never needed to consider the lives of their inferiors. Politicians, celebrities and business officials alike all had the privilege of enjoying the warmth of the planet's sun, the day's light and the views of the apartments, business districts, and - standing far above the towers around it - the Jedi Temple.
"Again, Meetra." Jedi Knight Bastila Shan stood over her friend, and current training partner, Meetra Surik. They were both dampened by sweat accumulated over hours of vigorous exercise, and clutched their lightsabers firmly.
Bastila Shan was a young woman - young to be a Jedi Knight, as she was constantly reminded by the Council. Standing stoically over Meetra, who lay sprawled on the floor, exhaustion lined her face and tugged at her thoughts. 'Clear your mind, Bastila' she reprimanded herself. 'Exhaustion is merely an obstacle. Overcome it.'
Meetra Surik, who was slightly younger than her friend, slowly rested a fist on the ground to push herself back up. 'This is pointless. I can't catch a break.'
"Calm your doubt." Bastila sternly advised Meetra.
"You're starting to sound like my master. Does becoming a master teach you to mind-read?"
"No, I don't need the force to sense you're not giving this all you have."
"Well forgive me, master." Meetra sighed as she pulled herself back to her feet. "Six non-stop hours a day doesn't exactly leave room for total commitment every second."
"Stop complaining."
"It's not my fault I can't pass the trials. If everyone stopped trying to get me better by forcing me to train longer and longer-"
"It's not your fault, Meetra, but it is your problem."
"See, now you're really starting to sound like my master."
"I said stop complaining." Bastila lifted her dual-bladed yellow saber, assuming a firm combat stance. "Now duel."
Meetra, using her visible exhaustion to hide her plan, suddenly lunged forwards, striking at Bastila. The latter swatted the blade aside, spinning to allow Meetra's momentum to cause her to stumble. Bastila's double-bladed lightsaber allowed for better defence, and so the need for quick footwork was greatly diminished - allowing her to keep her ground during duels. As a disciple of the Makashi lightsaber form, her priorities lay in precision, defence and disarmament.
Meetra was a training user of the first form of lightsaber combat - Shii Cho. She remembered her earlier days of practising with training staffs, when her master had taken her through the various forms. 'I have no idea what any of this means,' she had thought. 'Still don't,' she admitted. Form I had been chosen almost randomly, with the same type of carelessness as she felt towards the Jedi Trials that she would soon have to deal with.
"Shii Cho is making you unbalanced. Your movements are too wild." Bastila warned her friend. As if on cue, Meetra took two failed swings at Bastila, who leaned back from the danger with ease. "Perhaps you should study a second form." Meetra rolled her eyes at the suggestion.
"I can't even get the first right."
Their sabers met and clashed together with a golden flare of light. Bastila rotated her hilt to guide the lower blade towards Meetra's legs. With a sudden burst of strength, Meetra pushed the upper blade back, and batted the lower one away. Bastila stumbled slightly.
"Better." In Bastila's mind, this near-monosyllabic utterance of approval was an intimate and generous display of celebration. Sensing that things could only go down from here, and that Meetra was burned out for the evening, Bastila de-ignited her lightsaber. Meetra closed her eyes with an expression of relief, following suit. The two friends bowed, as per ancient Jedi tradition.
"So when you say better.." Meetra grinned slyly. "You mean 'no more training required' better, right?"
Bastila raised her eyebrow.
"Meetra, you just need to focus on your studies. Pay attention to the way you move - the way the force moves around us. Meditate on your training and remember your failings." Bastila sighed. "I'll see you again tomorrow."
"Look at you. You pass the trials and now here you are all high-and-mighty." Meetra smirked. Bastila had known her friend long enough to be aware that this comment was nothing more than a playful poke.
"Goodnight, Meetra." The two of them split off in different directions, toward their personal quarters. As Bastila approached one of the grand entrances to the training chamber, she was met by a short, old and cross-armed Jedi Master, Vandar Tokare. "Good evening, Master." Bastila bowed. Vandar smiled, his eyes observing Bastila with an intensity that felt welcoming and comfortable.
"It is good to see you, Bastila. I continue to find myself impressed by your aptitude for duelling." He smiled up at her. Bastila shyly grinned back. "You would make for a good master when the time comes for you to reconsider."
"Not yet, Master Tokare. Meetra is a gifted Jedi student, but.. well, I struggle to deal with her. I couldn't possibly be able to handle a Padawan of my own." Bastila felt a small pang of shame. She had instinctively elected not to share the biggest reason she hated the idea of being a Jedi Master.
"What is it that prevents you from getting through to the Padawan Meetra Surik?"
"Well, she's stubborn. She doesn't understand why she fails.. I sense she may not even want to pass the trials." Trying not to let out a chuckle, Bastila knew what Vandar would say next.
"Interesting. All qualities I have attributed to you, at some point." Vandar placed his small, green hand on Bastila's, running his other through his wispy hair and twitching his pointy ears in an effort to broaden his smile. "Remember what it took for you to pass the trials. Meditate on your own failings, hm? See where you went wrong and teach the young Apprentice to overcome her impatience." 'He's right'. Bastila thought. He always seemed to be right. 'But I'd never be able to properly teach Meetra. I passed the trials, but that doesn't actually make me a good Jedi.' Tokare looked deeply at Bastila, as if studying her thoughts. "Perhaps only then can you truly overcome your own doubts."
.
.
Miles away, down below in the depths of the Coruscant underbelly, a blue lightsaber lit the shadow-filled alleys.
In this part of the planet, pipes slick with contaminated water and other chemical pollutants ran along the grimy walls. Steam poured from insecure machinery, and hooded people - black market street vendors, street rats and corrupt police officers prowled the streets at night. And yet, a Jedi was making his way down a tight and wet alley - hot in pursuit of two gang members.
"Your kind aren't supposed to be down here!" One of the criminals frantically yelled, stumbling over garbage.
The Jedi Knight following these gang members, ignoring their panicked yells, was tall - towering over anyone nearby. His bald, pale head was marked with two grey, tattooed stripes running down the length of his scalp. His face bore the marks of great concentration, teetering on anger. The lightsaber he grasped sliced against one side of the dirty walls, producing sparks. His focus was so narrow that he never noticed.
Panting, the gang members were growing more and more exhausted. The Jedi behind them seemed to be impervious to exhaustion. 'Freak sorcery,' one of the gang members thought to himself. They each knew the consequences of being apprehended by any meddling Republic police officers. They didn't get this deep in the core world spice ring without seeing friends and coworkers get sentenced to life - or worse, executed by bosses - for slipping up or ratting. But a Jedi on their tail? 'This'll be a sticky situation to get ourselves out of. Well..' The gang member mentally reassessed, '..Get myself out of.' After all, it was every man for himself down here.
"Get back!" One of the criminals yelled, stopping. The other spun around to see him grab a homeless child from the ground - lifting a gun to her head. "Get back or I swear I'll blast her!"
The Jedi came to a steady stop, eyeing his opponent warily.
"Ward, don't do this, we can make it - don't make this any worse!"
"Shut up Karlo!" Ward yelled. Karlo, still knowing it was every man for himself, was at least morally guided enough not to want to see his friend blast a hole in a child's head.
"Put the kid down." Karlo glared at Ward, who began to back away from the Jedi.
"Don't move!" He yelled as the Jedi Knight started to take a step forward.
"Put down your weapon now." The Knight quietly snarled. "Or you'll rot in a Republic prison."
"Better that than spending my life surrounded by crazy wizards like you." Ward taunted, sweating profusely as he shuffled backwards toward a maintenance tunnel. Karlo put his hand out in Ward's direction, his mind racing as he searched through different ways of diffusing the situation.
"You don't want this, Ward."
"I'll kill her if it means not going down for some scum-sucking crime boss I never even met. You hear that Jedi? I'll do it!"
"I'm sure you will." A voice rang out from the pitch-black maintenance tunnel behind them.
"What the-"
The hiss of a blue lightsaber sounded from the source of the mysterious voice - a second Jedi stood in the shadows. At the exact moment the blade had ignited, a pulse of force energy sent Ward's gun-wielding arm off to his side. His momentary shock caused him to let go of the young girl, who turned and fled.
"You kriffing Hutt-spawn, you're gonna pay!" Ward flung his arm back in front of him, frantically blasting at the second Jedi. The latter expertly raised his blade, rotating and repositioning at lightning speed to safely deflect the laser bolts into the walls around him.
'We're doomed,' Karlo realised. Upon witnessing Ward's failed attack, he and the first Jedi locked eyes and shared the silent and mutual understanding that Karlo should just surrender.
The second Jedi Knight reached out with the force again, this time pulling the blaster from Ward's hand.
The criminal cried out and stumbled forward with the tug of the force.
"You come any closer, and I'll.. I'll-" Ward spluttered, faltering as the second Jedi stepped out of the shadows - his face lined with the frustration of a man not worth trying to intimidate.
Ryden Kildar resisted a slight grin as the mob criminal squirmed on the ground before him. Forbidden as this behaviour was, he could not help but revel in the freedom he felt in putting his strength to some use.
'Underworld security are going to have another field day tonight' Ryden smirked to himself, looking up at his accomplice, who had perfectly led the criminals to the alley trap - as per the plan.
"I pinged the police, they'll be here any minute."Ryden nodded to the first Jedi.
"It's late, no doubt the Council will have questions." Alek responded. Ryden shrugged and made his way over to Alek.
"We'll just have to cross that bridge when we come to it." He nudged his old friend with one elbow playfully as he passed - leaving the criminals, winded and afraid, on the ground. Sirens echoed through the streets.
.
.
"What do you suggest?"
"We went out to admire the sunset, got lost and-"
"-And tripped and suddenly found ourselves in the Uscru District? Miles from where we should be?"
"I never said the council had to believe us, only get too annoyed to keep asking questions." Ryden laughed. "Don't worry so much."
The two Jedi friends ascended a narrow walkway from the lower levels, crossing through to one of the many neon shopping districts on the surface of Coruscant. The reveal of an infinite horizon scattered with blazing orange lights and apartments was never not breathtaking.
"At least the walk is nice." Alek sighed. His holocom suddenly beeped with an oncoming communication. Stopping to share a wary glance with his friend, Alek slid it from his belt and answered the call. The small translucent figure of a Jedi Sentinel flashed to life.
"Master Alek, the Jedi Council wishes for an urgent meeting. Be there as soon as you can." She relayed.
"Of course." Alek nodded. He looked up at Ryden, who shrugged - eyebrows raised.
.
.
"So, to summarise, the two of you were not, in fact, located in the Uscru district at any point tonight?"
Ryden and Alek, who found themselves stood on the centre of the ornate red and yellow floor of the Jedi Council chamber, both shook their head. "And you did not participate in very generously-dubbed 'vigilante activity' in the Undercity?
"Of course not, master." Ryden looked down at his feet. Master Zez-Kai Ell of the Jedi Council looked both Ryden and Alek up and down, possibly masking a slight smirk, if the latter's eyes were not deceiving him.
"Oh please. Spare us the pathetic falsities." Master Vrook Lamar spat. "We have witnesses. Eyewitnesses who can testify against your claims. This Council has no time to waste dismissing or entertaining this shocking behaviour. Behaviour, I might add, punishable by immediate expulsion from the Jedi Order - a sanction which the two of you seem to care little about!" Ryden and Alek shifted their feet awkwardly.
"Now, Master Lamar. Beyond a handful of unreliable witnesses, we fail to present true, undoubtable evidence against the two Knights before us." Vandar Tokare ran his three-fingered hand through his thin hair and across his dark green scalp.
"Master Tokare, need I remind this council of the countless violations these two have-"
"-violations which, as I remember, were all dismissed by us."
"Secrets are kept from us every day by those two! It's time we put an end to-"
"Personal matters are the business of the person - the same goes for every Jedi in these walls." Tokare calmly stated. "Unless there are any more cases against these two Jedi anybody wishes to discuss, I suggest that we put this matter to rest, and our bodies with it - it has gotten late."
Ryden, almost unable to contain his joyous surprise, bowed to the Jedi Master respectfully. Alek followed suit.
Tokare eyed Ryden with a knowing glance as the latter straightened back up.
.
.
"We got lucky tonight." Alek admitted. "And I understand that you want to do this. I do. And I want it too, but how long do we keep this up without there being one too many witnesses?"
"We'll figure that out."
"And if we don't? What if you wind up actually getting expelled?"
"I'll get stronger, train more. Get better at it, if I have to. Then I won't get expelled."
"We got lucky tonight, Ryden. No amount of training's going to help that."
"Well then what? We just do nothing?"
"No.. No. You know that's not what I want." Alek mumbled.
"Then what do you want?"
"I want to know why you keep wanting to go out there, fighting people you don't know. Helping people whose lives don't affect yours in the slightest." Alek stared at his friend. Ryden looked down at the carpeted floor of the Temple corridor they stood in, unsure of how to answer.
"I don't know what else to do." He admitted. Alek hesitated, unable to respond. "What's the point of having these powers if I have nothing to use them for?"
"To let the Council feel protected. Invulnerable." A cold voice rang out from the shadows, before its owner stepped forward.
"Master Kreia." Ryden bowed respectfully.
"I am not your master anymore, Ryden. You may hold your pleasantries." Kreia muttered, approaching the two Jedi Knights. As Alek furrowed his brow at the remark, Ryden internally chuckled. Kreia never held herself as a traditional Jedi, and her attitude always put herself at odds with the Council. Sensing the change in atmosphere, Alek turned to face Ryden.
"I should head back to my quarters." Briefly glancing at Kreia, Alek nodded and departed.
"You've been out again?" Kreia asked, waiting for Alek to leave.
"Well.." Ryden knew it was pointless lying to her. A Master's knowledge of their Padawan often extended beyond the Padawan's knowledge of themselves.
"And I take it the Council spoke to you?" Ryden nodded in response.
"If you spent half the time studying the force as you do outside these walls you would have an apprentice by now."
"And then what? Being a Master didn't exactly serve you well." Ryden pointed out.
"True, my teachings were too 'dangerous' for the Council's liking, but the arrogance with which they would shut down your learning from me is too profound to dissuade me."
"Believe me, I know." Ryden chuckled. Kreia remained as stone-faced as ever. Her long, brown robes shifted slightly as she cocked her head towards the tall window nearby. Blind as she was, Kreia had dedicated a great portion of her life to honing the skill of force sight - using the constant movement of the living force to grant her heightened senses in substitution for the ability to see. As she approached the window that overlooked the midnight skyline of Coruscant, Ryden wondered what she could perceive.
"It is nothing more or less than fear that stops them from seeing the greater nuances of the force and its ways." She sighed. "If it were not for that, perhaps you and I would not be so cast aside."
"You really think fear is a part of it?" Ryden scoffed.
"I would have thought after tonight's antics, you would have retired back to your quarters." A voice called out from the nearby entrance to the Jedi Council Chambers. Ryden turned to see Master Vrook Lamar watching the two of them. His eyes bore the markings of wariness, flickering between the Master and her ex-Padawan.
"I was just about to go." Ryden lied.
"Perhaps it is best you do." Lamar warned, taking one last prolonged glance at Kreia before turning to leave. Ryden watched him go, and then looked back at his old Master, whose blind eyes - though covered by the brim of her extended hood - were gazing into his own.
"To answer your question.. I do."
Ryden Kildar was 25 years old, and as long as he could remember, had spent every day within the walls of the Jedi Temple to some capacity. Through training, studying and observing the Masters of the Jedi, he had gained an impressive aptitude for the force - adding onto his natural skill, a skill thought to have been linked with his strong connection to the force from birth. A connection which confused all of his teachers and, indeed, the council considering that nobody knew who his parents might have been. Ryden had been regaled with the tale of how Master Vandar Tokare had found him as a baby, safely placed in a wooden box and drifted off into a lake of his homeworld away from the ambush that claimed the lives of everybody in any local town. This would include - he assumed - his parents, whoever they were. The Council and Kreia were the only figures he had had in his life whom he truly looked up to, for better or for worse. Kreia had given him the anchor of teachings and self-reliance around which he was attempting to form his own path, yet it was this that seemingly led the Jedi Council to turn away from Ryden - ignoring him, rejecting the possibility of him becoming a Master - all because of how much he had taken up Kreia's very unusual style. And now, his mind struggled to wrap itself around Kreia's lingering words. 'Is fear responsible for Master Lamar's attitude towards me?' He wondered. 'Are they afraid of me?' He couldn't bring himself to believe such a thought. 'Why would they fear me, of all people? Is it the Kreia in me that they disapprove of? Or is there something else that they're afraid of?'
Staring out over the skyline of the city he now called home, Ryden felt the world around him shift with Kreia's words.