Topic: Introductions

[ChrisGrim]

Before I post this I'd like to mention that if for whatever reason someone thinks "my character would not have said/done that" and maybe some of it seems a little out of character that can be explained simply by remembering that the stories are told in first person and past tense. So, perhaps the character mistakes some of the memories or applies their own biases to the story, especially considering the biases both of the story tellers have. So, if someone is made out to see worse than they are or whatever it's easily explained.

This story will be short though. Only a few chapters since it's only really an introduction to the Force, his personality and perceptions as a youngling. It's been so long since this even happened, years, it's hard to remember so I've had to make up and embellish some stuff.

CHAPTER ONE – Twelve Years Later – Megan
   “How do you feel,” an old grey haired Jedi Master whose name had long since faded from my memory asked. It struck me as an odd question. This was the first time I had stepped foot in a Jedi structure since my husband turned on me and our family and he was asking me how I felt?
   I didn’t answer but I believe that was answer enough for him. We didn’t waste time and walked into the Council Chambers. A banner for the clan hung from the rafters. The JO Temple on Yavin was where my youngest son would call home, but I was not yet sure I would allow him to go.
   “Jedi Megan Grim,” another, slightly younger dark haired Master started.
   “I am no longer a Jedi; please do not address me as one.”
   In the twelve years since I had left the Jedi Order I’d begun to notice things I hadn’t before. Like just how agitated Jedi got when you interrupted their long winded prepared speeches.
   “You have been brought before us to discuss your son, Christopher.”
   A Jedi’s knack for both sounding self important and pointing out the obvious were also things I’d noticed. This was why I loved Vroxil, he was never like that. He could care less about formalities and conduct.
   “I am aware.”
   “What can you tell us about him,” the old one spoke again. Menelaos, I think he said his name was.
   “He is strong in the Force; I sensed that early on in his life. He’s always been a little different than most children his age and that’s how I knew he was meant to be a Jedi. And so, I began training him.”
   “Training?” The black haired self-important one interjected. “You do realize that you are not a Jedi Knight and therefore should not have been training.”
   “I am his mother, and I did what I thought was best for my child. He needed to be prepared for what’s out there. He is not like other Padawan’s you find and recruit, he already has a very powerful enemy and I was not about to allow your silly traditions to stop me from preparing my son for what is out there.”
   “You once upheld these ‘silly traditions’,” he reminded me. ‘The obvious was strong in this one’ I thought. Of course I once upheld these traditions. A lot had changed since those days. I had changed since those days.
   “What have you taught him?” This time a Zabrak spoke to defuse the situation, or perhaps to offer me someone else to speak to.
   “I have begun teaching him the saber arts; he’s becoming quite good. I’ve tried to teach him to open himself to the Force but he’s struggled. He’s not a proficient Force User but the potential is there. I feel it but there’s something missing. He’s managed to harness enough to allow himself to duel effectively and efficiently but not a lot else.”
   “His chosen style?”
   “Right now he seems partial to the Makashi form. He’s been in many dueling tournaments for youths on Naboo, he likes sword to sword dueling. He could become a rather good Guardian someday.”
   “Like his father?”
   The black haired one knew exactly what questions to ask to push my buttons. If I said no I would be lying. Christopher was a lot like his Father. Brash, arrogant, charming, loyal, and a strong fighter but I knew if I answered yes the only connection that would be made would be his fall to the Dark Side. What a terrible way to start your life in a Jedi Order, as the son of a traitor and a deserter.
   I had told my son of his father, for the most part. I had told him that he was a powerful Jedi, a strong fighter, but I never told him what happened to him. He did not need to know his father had fallen to the Dark Side, tried to kill me, or was still alive and doing who knows what. I wanted him prepared for what could come for it, but 12-years old was too young to tell him what that might be.
   “In many ways,” I said deciding not to try and choose words wisely. If the Jedi Order would not accept him I would just have to train him myself. “And in many ways he is not. He has much of both his parents in him, but I have yet to see anything in him that truly scared me.”
   “I’m interested in seeing just how well he has been trained, and how much of his father’s natural ability he has inherited,” Menelaos spoke as if I had left the room.
   “Are you suggesting a Tournament?” the black haired Jedi asked.
   “There aren’t enough hopefuls for that to be a viable option,” the quiet, younger one finally spoke.
   “Maybe a smaller scale test,” the black haired one grinned. There was something about the way he spoke and acted that made me uneasy. What was he planning for my son?

[ChrisGrim]

CHAPTER TWO – Solitude – Christopher
   There was something about being alone that I enjoyed, but I didn’t know what. Maybe it was the inherent lack of an audience. I never did like performing unless I had to.
   The Jedi had asked me to spend the night meditating, opening myself to the Force, something my mother had tried and failed to teach me growing up. I was just not the kind of person who could quiet his mind or grasp much of the things he could not see or touch. I was very much a physical person who enjoyed doing things in action.
   The room was dark so I kept my eyes closed for peace rather than strain them in the nothingness. I tried to reach out around me with my mind though nothing happened, or would I notice if it did? I couldn’t understand what exactly I was trying to accomplish or how I would know if I were to succeed.
   I wondered briefly what would happen if I were unable to build a connection with the Force. Would my fighting abilities keep me in the Order? I had heard of a Weapons Master but also that they were few and far between, and my mother had told me that some of the greatest fighters she had ever known, including my father had never reached the rank. If he could not, what chance could I have?
   The Council had asked me to construct my lightsaber in front of me without touching it with my hands. To reach out with the Force and put it together, completely operational but I couldn’t seem to do it.
   It frustrated me that I was able to make a connection with the Force, though limited, while dueling. It was a weak, tenuous connection but never could I perform it at any other time. I could not do the things that my mother could do, though even she tried hard to not do them herself.
   I couldn’t remember how many times I had watched her connection with the Force do things, even small tasks like cleaning up the house, and then she would shake her head as if to remind herself not to do such things. It was always odd to me that she would try so very hard to hold back that side of herself or that she would waste such a gift on cleaning in the first place. Why was she no longer a Jedi?
   I asked her once why that was but she never answered.
   I’d liked to assume time had been passing slowly but with no way of knowing I could only guess. I wondered how much trouble I would get into if the Jedi Council found me asleep in the meditation chamber.
   I had begun to give up when I reached for the saber pieces on the ground. It was only then that I noticed that my hand had not moved but I could hear the pieces connect together in mid-air without my having touched them. It was as if my hands were putting them together without moving even an inch.
   The last of the saber clicked into place, my first saber, a blue bladed short handled thing of beauty meant for agility and speed, something I had always had a large abundance of.
   I didn’t open my eyes but held my hand out and let the blade fall into it. I tested the balance in my right hand as I pushed my senses outwards. It felt like I could feel everything around me, to a point. A few dozen feet in every direction, nothing compared to what I was sure trained Masters could do, but still I could sense objects and people who passed within a certain range.
   As I started to allow myself to really quiet my mind I could feel myself growing more aware to my surroundings and more of the Temple opened up to me. I couldn’t make out any individuals but I assumed that was only because I had only met one Jedi in the Temple, the one who had come to Naboo to bring me to the Order. A Gungan Jedi Master by the name of Zunin Toku.
   It was astonishing.
   Even though I knew my ability was very basic I still felt empowered. Strong. In time I was sure I would be able to push my ability with the Force higher and do things I couldn’t even dream of then.
   I could feel everything around me, as if my hands were everywhere but nowhere at the same time. I wanted to push on something, make something else move but there was little strength in my abilities. I couldn’t manipulate the Force the way I knew Jedi could, not yet. Only light things like my saber pieces.
   I became so excited I lost control over my senses and it was over. I could feel the power within me, I could feel the Force and was sure I could use it but I wasn’t focused anymore.
   A knock at the door startled me. I hadn’t expected anyone to come until my solitary time was complete. The door opened and a rather old man walked into view. A Jedi Master, I assumed.
   “I see you have completed your first lightsaber,” he grinned at me. Jedi smile?
    I held it up to show it to him, he took the hilt from my hand and ignited it. Just as I expected a beautiful blue blade ignited, shorter than what I had been asked to make and what I was sure others used at my age but I knew what I was doing. Longer blades threw my balance off when sparring; I liked the shorter blade and hilt. “A little short, but it will do.”
   He handed it back to me and gestured for me to come along with him.
   “I can sense that you’ve taken the first steps towards opening yourself to the Force. You’re coming along. How much do you know about your parents?”
   “My mother hasn’t really told me much of anything. She told me that when the time was right all would be told to me. I don’t ask questions.”   
   “Interesting.”
   We walked a little further until we reached another door. I could hear voices on the other side. He looked down at me with a grin and opened the door. I walked into the room and was immediately greeted by the staring eyes of my fellow Padawan’s.
   “Not awkward at all,” I muttered.

[ChrisGrim]

CHAPTER THREE – First Impressions
   I didn’t like being starred at. I didn’t like being the center of attention without a sword in my hands. It was uncomfortable and I was sure my feelings betrayed me to anyone sensitive enough with the Force to feel them.
   There were three humans and a Zabrak watching me intently as I entered the room behind the Councilor.
   “Padawan’s,” he called for their attention and they seemingly jumped into place in front of him. I didn’t like that at all. I was definitely not going to be a fan of being called into order like that. “We have a new Initiate I would like you to meet. His name is Christopher Grim.”
   Once again eyes fell on me and I repressed the urge to glare back at them or throw something to avert attention, if even momentarily.
   I was bothered by the way one of them stared at me. The eldest of the four, a dark haired rather tall teen looked as if he was appraising me and found nothing of value. He looked bored of my presence, like he was somehow better than I was. I didn’t like the aura of superiority he exuded with every glance. I wanted to show him up. I wanted to wipe that smug smile off his face.
   The others seemed innocent enough, I supposed. The Zabrak looked like a pet Wompa begging for a treat at the Masters feet. The other two just seemed to go about their business after a few moments.
   “Will you be teaching us today?” The pet Jedi asked pleading for attention.
   “No Asheron, please continue to go about your business. I only wished to introduce Christopher.”
   I took a little joy in his disappointment. If this was the kind of Jedi the Order was training they could count me out.
   The spikey headed one composed himself and walked towards me slowly and tentatively. Could he tell that I judged him already? I assumed that he couldn’t by the way he wouldn’t stop walking as he got within striking distance.
   I’d liked very much to not be violent today, to not lash out at anyone or anything on my first day. But, I was feeling my back up against a wall and I didn’t like new places and change. This place was both.
   “Greetings,” he said, too chipper and enthusiastic to be genuine. He didn’t like me either. We would get along fine if we stayed away from one another. “I am Asheron.”
   Another Padawan had flanked him and stared into my soul. A well dressed, well kept youngling, a few years older than the rest of us and far more trained. I of course meant that as much in the way of being someone’s pet and trained to obey commands like ‘sit’ and ‘speak’ as I did in the way of his Jedi training.
   He looked me over slowly and spoke quickly, “Jorka.” And then as soon as he was there he was gone having found nothing he was interested in as he looked over me. Were all Jedi this arrogant or was I seeing things?
   “Duel?” The spikey headed one asked. Before I could answer a voice echoed through the small training room.
   “Christopher Grim,” the black haired man spoke to me. He, like the one called Jorka, spoke and looked at me as if I were nothing, not even worth his time to be acknowledged. “Today you will be tested for induction into the Jedi Order. You have, apparently, passed your first test.”
   ‘Not killing Asheron when I met him?’ I wondered to myself. Were Jedi psychic?
   “Your next test will be a duel with our most skilled youngling,” the elderly grey-haired one spoke. He looked nearly a hundred years old and I wondered how he was even capable of walking. Are Jedi ageless or just ignorant of time and their frailty? I couldn’t tell.
   I looked around for the Youngling to step forward but in truth I should never have had to wonder who would be the one to step forward. It should have been apparent to me from the moment we locked eyes. The one named Jorka took a step towards me and unhilted his blade. My heart raced with anticipation, it was my time to prove my worth and this would be my first obstacle.
   I took my saber from its hilt and cracked my neck. He bowed slightly and then took a step back igniting his saber, and I did the same.
   I posed myself into a fighting stance which, judging by the look on Jorka’s face was amusing to him. I waited patiently, something against my personality to do, as Jorka slowly circled me. I’d only been taught one way to fight and it was an annoyingly defensive form. I couldn’t stand it, waiting to be attacked, jabbing and parrying instead of slashing and attacking, but my mother had insisted on my learning a form that would keep me from being disarmed.
   I couldn’t remember what she’d called it, something that sounded funny. Mu….ma…mi…something… By the time I’d snapped myself out of my own head Jorka had made the first move, and it was a good one. A quick punishing blow that I just barely got my blade in front of but despite my defense the force of the attacked forced me off balance and nearly caused me to fall.
   I was able to regain my composure quickly enough to allow me to dive out of the way of the next attack. I somersaulted and pulled myself up to my feet in the same motion and was ready once again to fight.
   ‘Note to self: Jedi don’t mess around, stay focused’.