3rd Person

Pride is often a mask.

Adi

Darkness.

Cold.

Frigid, glacial cold, plaguing every nerve on my skin.

Unsealing my eyelids was a difficult, delicate task, as the subzero temperatures had frozen them shut.

Nonetheless, I did successfully open my eyes... eventually.

I quickly sat up, taking in my surroundings.

I was alone.

Furthermore, I seemed to be incarcerated.

Dull-gray metal walls imprisoned me on all sides, complete with a ceiling and floor of the same material.

Yet, my enclosure was anything but cramped. Rather, it was nearly boundless.

Curious to investigate my predicament, as well as curious as to how I'd gotten here, I began to wander along one of the walls.

All throughout my aimless odyssey, the cold hung over me.

Originally, it had stung. It was initially painful, sharp to the senses.

Yet, it gradually numbed my senses, both physical and mental, until I felt nothing.

The cold tempered my wild emotions, purifying my state of mind.

It was familiar... safe.

Suddenly, I discovered an armored door ingrained in the wall.

After unbolting the heavy gate, I escaped my confinement...

Or so I thought.

Once I was on the other side, I found myself staring at another wall.

I wandered along this next wall for a time, executing the same process as done prior.

Eventually, I discovered another door...

And another wall on the other side.

Again and again, the cycle repeated.

As I wandered throughout the dull-gray, metal labyrinth, the cold followed me.

"Shoooooooooooooooooooooooo."

Finally, I heard something other than my own footsteps.

The sound of wind howling.

I advanced toward the sound's source.

"Clang! Clang!"

Without warning, a second sound jumped into the fray.

Peering ahead, I spotted a pair of petite hands banging against a collection of metal bars sculpted into the walls.

The hands were so small... they could only have been from a child.

Detecting my presence, the young prisoner reached out toward me, as if to cry for help.

Evidently, they were trapped in a prison of their own.

A cell.

The inside of the cell was utterly obscured by a veil of darkness, causing the child to be completely silhouetted.

Though... judging by the outline of head-tendrils next to the child's head, they appeared to be Tholothian.

When I finally stood in front of the helpless child's cell, I initially reached for their hand.

Then, I pulled back.

After thinking better of it, I opted to reach for my lightsaber...

To slash open the cell.

My hand faltered, freezing as it neared my blade's silvery hilt.

As I stared into the darkness, I hesitated.

I shivered.

Crouching down, I placed my hands on either side of my head.

No...

The darkness.

"I mustn't!" I screamed madly.

In that instant, reality shattered.

My eyes snapped open.

I quickly sat up.

Surveying the area around me, I saw the book I'd left on my bed the night before.

I observed my collection of star-charts sitting on the windowsill.

I located my chest, the very same one that Chronicles of a Jedi Master was kept in.

...I was in my quarters.

So, it had simply been a dream.

Though... I'd had similar nightmares twice in the past.

At this point, I could no longer deny the obvious conclusion...

These dreams... they were force visions.

...

After dressing and equipping myself, I prepared to rendezvous with my apprentice.

For the day's training session, I'd secured us a private room...

Along with a guest instructor.

Zevon

The private room was especially ornate, furnished with baroque pillars and a ring of flourishing plants that encircled the space.

As I awaited my master's arrival, I found myself overlooking the planet's surface through a panoramic window.

Coruscant.

No trees, no plant life at all.

Nothing but architecture, as far as the eye could see.

And, where the eye couldn't see...

The underworld... lurking beneath the surface.

Below that surface, through the abyss, there existed a distant, primal realm...

A realm where the strong thrived, trampling the weak underfoot like weeds.

A realm where the inhabitants were indistinguishable from the piles of filth that collected in the back alleys.

In actuality, sometimes there was no difference between the two. After all, those who died in the slums were seldom sought after, and there was no cleanup crew.

Even the putrid smell of rotting flesh was unable to break through the deathly stench of the slums.

When life was left unchecked, the undercity was the result. That's why the republic, and the Jedi, needed to exist.

Life was inherently competitive... without proper law, governance, and order, the galaxy would tear itself apart.

At least, I used to believe those things.

Now, as I shouldered numerous new experiences, I began to wonder...

Whether the lower levels of Coruscant had been created through nature, or by design.

The lower levels...

What had my life been like back then, before I was found by Master Sinube?

A hellish, brutal reality no doubt.

One plagued by misfortune and mistreatment.

Yet, I still... couldn't remember. Not because I'd been too young to recollect anything, no... I now doubted that possibility.

Rather, It seemed that long ago, I'd made a pact with myself...

To forcefully forget my early years...

Firstly, to ease my mind.

And secondly... because they reminded me of my standing.

As I turned away from the cityscape, my train of thought was derailed by the electronic hum of the chamber door opening.

In walked Master Gallia, her step as prideful as ever.

And, she was accompanied by... Master Shaak Ti?

"Master." I addressed formally, gracing my master with a light bow.

"Padawan, this is Master Ti, who I'm sure you're familiar with." Master Gallia introduced.

Of course I was familiar with the tall, Togruta council member. Perhaps it was shallow, but I remembered her specifically for the fact that she was Togruta, the same as Ahsoka.

Though, in comparison to my childhood friend, Master Ti's montrals were significantly more developed. She also had a reddish skin tone, rather than orange.

I gave Master Ti a light bow; she acknowledged it with a slight nod of her head.

"Padawan Boltreaver. Considering our previous, fleeting encounters, I hope I haven't given you the wrong impression of me. That aside, I am curious to see how you perform during my instruction." Master Ti stated frankly.

I nodded, showing neither excitement nor resentment.

"Master Ti is hardly away from Kamino, so I'd be a fool to not take advantage of this golden opportunity... and introduce you to the next lightsaber form. Master Ti is regarded as one of the most skilled practitioners of this particular form." my master explained, subsequently giving the Togruta Jedi master the floor.

"Lightsaber form IV, Ataru. It's also known as the aggression form, though I find that nomenclature distasteful." Personally, I prefer to call it the insistence form." Master Ti specified.

'I don't care.' I thought to myself privately, eager to get to some actual exercises.

"Ataru philosophy is built upon brevity. In other words, to end the fight as it begins." Master Ti droned on, pausing. f

'I could sure use some brevity right now.' I lamented internally, itching to go.

"Pssshew!"

Before I could process it, Master Ti was hurtling toward me, lightsaber and all.

"Psshew!"

"Kssshh!"

I barely extended my blade in time to block her spinning strike.

Undeterred by my defense, Master Ti leapt to the side, subsequently rebounding off of a pillar.

As she rushed at me again, the Togruta Jedi Master performed midair twists and turns to add power to her blade.

Lightsaber Form III, Soresu: Glacial Flow.

"Kssh! Kssh! Kssh!"

I parried her relentless cuts with delicate precision, being mindful of my footwork as I gradually gave ground.

"Kssh! Kssh! Kssh! Kssh! Kssh!"

As our blades of plasma clashed together, Master Ti's azure blade blended with the blue sky; my jade blade, the green foliage.

Slowly, I was overwhelmed.

Jedi Master Shaak Ti was merciless. Her acrobatic onslaught was a miniature cyclone... a whirling death of countless sharp air currents.

Too fast, too agile, and too precise.

Ultimately, her wicked windstorm fractured my glacier, and I found myself staring at the tip of her azure lightsaber.

"Shhhheeew!"

Master Ti deactivated her saber.

"And that... is the insistence form." she declared. "Sometimes the most peaceful solution... is a quick victory."

Still feeling a rush of adrenaline, I couldn't help but tighten my muscles in anticipation.

"I'm ready to learn." I avowed.

"Excellent." she responded.

After making her way to the center of the decorated floor, Master Ti resumed lecturing.

"The form is entirely centered around swift, seamless movement. Inevitably, to accomplish such movements, you must use the force... more than any other form. I understand if that's an issue." she clarified cautiously.

"That won't be a problem." Master Gallia interjected, watching from the window, her arms crossed.

Nodding, Master Ti entered the iconic form IV stance, the very same one Master Yoda was so well-known for.

Then... she took flight, demonstrating the incredible, superhuman feats that had solidified the legend of the Jedi.

Her acrobatics were uncannily similar to Ahsoka's signature flips and twists... was it their species?

Maybe it was their montrals? They provided extra sense beyond just sight, hearing, and touch... I'd read something like that in a book.

Well... Ahsoka did use form IV fairly often. That was the simple explanation.

After shadowing Master Ti for some time, it was my turn to practice.

"Open spaces like this are the primary domain of an Ataru user. Otherwise, you won't have the freedom of movement." Master Ti expounded through short breaths. "Go ahead, show me what you've learned."

"Thank you, Master Ti." I stated, putting my hand on the worn saber at my waist.

Adi

Again and again, he swung the worn saber... thousands of times over.

Again and again, he flipped through the air.

Behind him, the infinite city acted as a fitting background to his limitless fortitude.

Ataru was a brutal, draining martial art... as unrelenting to a user's body as it was to an opponent.

To compensate, most Jedi had to constantly use the force to reinforce their bodies. As a result, it wasn't something you dabbled in unless you were quite strong with the force.

But Zevon was different.

I knew he would be.

"I can't say that the bladework is anything special... in fact, it's quite bad.... but the movement is strong. You've picked quite the perseverant pupil." Master Ti commented, watching Zevon fly throughout the sacred chamber.

"I do, but... you see, we haven't actually arrived at the perseverance form yet." I responded humorously, injecting each syllable with my signature sarcasm. "Not to worry, I understand. Patience doesn't always come easy for masters of form IV."

"When does patience become complacency?" Master Ti posed, unfazed by my dry disrespect.

"When does urgency become recklessness?" I asked, answering her with a question of my own.

Shaak Ti raised an eyebrow, or at least contorted her face where an eyebrow would have been.

"It's fortunate that you have me to talk to, Adi. I can't imagine you'd speak to Master Windu like this." she voiced, flashing a brief, sly smile.

Her jab was more than enough to silence me for a bit.

After I resumed watching my apprentice zip around the room, trying to figure out the somersaults, I started to pick up on a problem.

"He's too focused on replicating your moves." I observed, recognizing the acrobatic patterns Zevon was trying to imitate. "He needs to focus on the bigger picture."

"Imitation is a fine way to learn." Shaak insisted, disagreeing. "At least in the beginning."

She then jingled her lightsaber a bit, just enough so that I would take notice.

...

Shaak Ti's lightsaber was virtually identical to my own. The silvery hilt, the pair of smooth, circular nobs... even the golden ridges at the top.

"I still can't believe you copied my lightsaber." I groaned, smashing my palm into my face.

"It's a good design." Shaak stated, shrugging.

"You're just lazy." I accused.

After a slight chuckle, Shaak became serious.

"Aren't you going to ask how things are on Kamino?" she inquired.

"No, I wasn't." I stated coldly.

"It's not looking good." Shaak affirmed grimly, ignoring me. "Though we repelled the attack on Kamino, the samples of Jango Fett's DNA are slowly running dry."

"I'm aware." I acknowledged, understanding the need to end the war as quickly as possible.

"Perhaps your apprentice could be the new template..." she suggested, having an epiphany.

"Absolutely not." I declared, unamused.

"Regardless, it's... it's hard." Shaak bemoaned, her face falling. "I guide my troopers, teach them as best I can. They grow to respect me, and I grow to respect them."

She then turned to me, making full eye contact.

"And then I send them to their deaths." she whispered, shaking her head.

"It's unfortunate, but these are the circumstances we were dealt." I declared.

"Yes, and the council did want a member to monitor the Kaminoians." Shaak reiterated, reminding me of the suspicious events regarding the clone army's creation. "I actually have a reason to be late to meetings."

"Facilitating my padawan's training is reason enough to be a few minutes late." I shot back, giving her the death stare.

"I'm not the one dealing out the demotions, but with that behavior, your days are numbered." Shaak warned, reminding me of my master's intolerance to insubordination. "Especially now that we know that nobody's seat is safe, what with Master Koth being removed in favor of Master Kolar."

"I'll... I'll keep that in mind. Thank you, Shaak." I muttered, giving in. She was right, I needed to be more careful.

"You can step down, you know. Master Bilaba did, to train a padawan of her own no less.... that Dume boy." Shaak proposed, citing Master Bilaba's exit from the council.

Depa Bilaba... the apprentice that accomplished what I could not.

My brow furrowed.

"No. My loyalty lies with the council, and I will not abandon my duties." I insisted stubbornly.

"Then why train this boy?" Shaak questioned, bewildered.

"He... is also my duty." I responded simply.

"You've already trained apprentices, we all have." Shaak pointed out. "Why him? He's performing above my expectations, but it's not as if it has to be you. Other masters could pick up in your stead."

I opened my mouth, considering a list of possible retorts, but I was unable to formulate one.

Closing my mouth, I opted to say nothing.

"One day I'm going to discover whatever goes on in that head of yours." Shaak declared, temporarily dropping the subject.

Zevon

Later

Within the barracks, the 91st legion had just concluded their daily military exercises.

I met Burst on the way out.

"There you are, commander!" he exclaimed, seeing my face.

"You gonna tell me what this is all about?" I pried, unaware of why he'd called me here.

"Follow me." he ordered simply, leading me to his private barracks.

"This is nice!" I declared, staring at the wall of weaponry in the back, as well as how spacious his room was.

"Yep. ARC troopers are pretty pampered if you ask me. It's fancy, but... a bit lonely." Burst trailed off.

As he removed his helmet, I noticed a pair of dark shadows that Burst had painted under the visor.

"What's with the makeover?" I questioned jokingly.

"Cause I'm tired." he laughed.

It was a fleeting laugh.

Burst began fiddling with a device on his workbench.

Taking another glance at his armor, I couldn't help but stare in awe.

It was now a far cry of what it had been when we first met.

The amount of gadgets and weaponry he carried on him... it was staggering.

He was strapped... armed to the teeth.

Explosives... vibroblades... wrist rockets... he had it all, I didn't even know what the majority of the devices were.

"What does that do?" I asked, pointing at the machine he was tinkering with.

"Personal shield." he answered plainly. "Same type as the rollies."

Rollies...? Destroyers! I think he was talking about destroyer droids.

"I didn't know you could just carry one." I confessed, impressed.

"Yeah, I actually didn't know either, but Slip wouldn't stop yapping my ear off about it." Burst chuckled, reminiscing. "He thought every clone should be given one."

"True... battles would probably be easier." I guessed, considering the possibility.

"I suppose we're not worth it." Burst concluded.

"Anyways, why'd you call me here?" I asked, bringing it up again.

"Oh yeah, sorry commander." he apologized, remembering. "Basically, we need credits, as much as you're willing to donate. General Skywalker and I are cooking something up, but we need the funds to do it."

"For what?" I inquired quizzically.

"It's a surprise." he responded. "Just trust me that you'll care about it. Tell Commander Tano too... well, I guess Skywalker probably already got to her. Anyways, just don't tell your master."

"Alright, but don't expect much from me. I don't exactly have a salary." I answered honestly.

"Me neither." Burst agreed, guffawing.

It was then that I took notice of the very real shadows under Burst's eyes. Real ones this time.

"You good?" I asked, genuinely concerned.

"I'm fine kid, just tired." he insisted.

"Should I... be worried about all this?" I questioned, waving around at all the deadly weaponry he'd acquired.

Burst laughed again, shaking his head.

"Every soldier wants to go out in a blaze of glory." he declared.

Later

"Sorry, but I'm gonna have to decline your offer from before." I told Ahsoka, enraptured by a pearly-white, crescent-shaped necklace in my palm. "I need as much time to train as possible."

"Your loss." she replied casually, peering over my shoulder at the jewelry.

"Buy it or leave it, pal!" the owner yapped at me, at which I put down the locket.

We were out in the streets of Coruscant, fenced in by numerous festive stands and carts.

It was the height of the Month of Plenty, a holy month for the Weequay people. The month in question was devoted to Quay, their Moon God.

Naturally, the Weequay native to Coruscant had all come out to celebrate.

"Barriss would have loved this." Ahsoka murmured suddenly.

"Is she offworld?" I asked, to which Ahsoka nodded. "Where?"

"I don't know." Ahsoka admitted, frustrated. "I don't even know who her new master is."

"Look at you two..." an old voice croaked, startling Ahsoka and I.

The voice came from an elderly Weequay woman, managing a rickety stand all by herself.

After making our way to the shabby little cart, we noticed a peculiar fact.

Every little trinket the woman was selling was... red.

"Hello!" we greeted politely, in unison.

"Are the two of you having a disagreement?" the woman inquired with a smile, crinkles forming on her ancient skin.

"No... not really." we clarified, confused, and still speaking synchronously.

"Oh, never mind." she chuckled. "Would you like to buy anything? My wares are quite popular among young couples."

At that last part, Ahsoka and I looked at each other almost instantly.

I expected her face to be as humored as mine, I could barely contain my laughter... but I didn't see that with Ahsoka.

Her smile was far more... devilish?

I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but it made me feel weird.

"Sure, but I think we'd like to look around a bit first." Ahsoka told the woman, who seemed delighted at her response.

As Ahsoka and I went poking around by ourselves, I noticed a faded mural that was on sale.

It was difficult to make out the scene depicted, but the mural's most striking feature was an eerie crimson moon in the background.

"Why make everything red?" I asked the woman.

"Mmmmm." she hummed. "Red is the color of love, passion, strong emotions... it brings out the best in us, but also the worst."

While pondering her words, I recalled my Jedi training, as well as the scarlet blade wielded by a certain sith assassin.

'Mostly the worst.' I thought to myself.

"Does this interest you?" the woman piped up, gesturing to the mural.

"What is it, exactly?" I responded, curious.

"Ah... have you ever been to Hesperidium?" she croaked, invoking the name of one of Coruscant's moons.

Hearing the name uttered, Ahsoka wandered over to listen.

"Yes. Actually, we went there together." I remembered.

"Even better." the woman professed, smiling widely again. "But if you don't know this painting, then you've never seen the crimson moon."

"Do elaborate." Ahsoka requested, flashing me another smile.

"Quay, the first moon, naturally has authority over the rest. He created every one of the galaxy's moons in his own image, including the moons of Coruscant." the woman described, looking to the sky.

"Hesperidium is famous for her beauty, that's what attracts so many tourists. As it turns out, one of Coruscant's other moons also became smitten with that beauty: Centax." the woman explained.

"But Centax can never be with Hesperidium, for they are destined to be so close, yet unable to hold each other. Furthermore, to add to the legend, there is a thick cloud of cosmic, crimson comet dust that orbits Hesperidium." the woman furthered her explanation of the myth.

"Every so often, usually around Hesperidium's monsoon season, the crimson comets align with a cosmic light, reflecting off of Centax. It births a divine sight... the crimson moon of Centax, visible from Hesperidium's surface." the Weequay woman elucidated.

"It's created quite the tourist attraction. Lovers from all across the galaxy gather there to bathe in the crimson light, as well as the red rain. In fact, it's said that two lovers who experience the red rain pouring down on them become joined for life." the woman further elaborated.

"Though their love can never be realized, the two star-crossed lovers can bring others together. That is the legend." the woman finished.

"Thank you!" I stated graciously. "I... can't really afford any of this stuff, but I should at least give you this for the story." I admitted, handing her a few credits.

As Ahsoka and I left, the elder called after us one last time.

"Take care, you two. Life is short... you won't always be together, so try to treasure the time that you still have." she urged.

"I don't even like red. It is the color of the Sith, after all." Ahsoka commented, cracking a joking smile.

"You're wearing a red dress." I pointed out, raising an eyebrow.

Ahsoka looked down, taking a second to double-check my claim. Once she'd validated it, we burst out laughing simultaneously.

"I'd call it... maroon." she disputed, her laughter dying down.

"That's still red." I snickered.

Burst

"Liquid or powder?" the shady balosar whispered, her distinct antenna visible through her hat.

"The usual." I replied shortly.

Stepping out of the shadows, I revealed my face.

Upon recognizing me, the balosar nicknamed 'Lady Death' jolted back in fear.

Calmly displaying my helmet, I showcased the distinct shadows painted under the visor.

"Ah, it's you..." she exclaimed, still on edge.

"I'm in a hurry." I informed, holding out my open hand.

"Thirty credits." she stated, similarly anxious to end the transaction.

After passing the correct number of credits into her hand, Lady Death placed a transparent pouch into mine.

With our business wrapped up, I exited the back alley my distributor lurked in.

The underworld.

Coruscant's very own seedy underbelly.

As I navigated through the decrepit, light-starved realm, a certain commander came to mind.

"Not the best place to grow up, huh kid?" I muttered to myself. "Well, it might've been better than floating in a test tube."

Walking through the grimy, sleazy streets, I held the clear pouch in front of my face.

The bag contained a powder, saturated with splashy, ethereal colors...

As if from another dimension entirely.

Death sticks.

A highly illegal, cheap, addictive, hallucinogenic substance that needed no introduction.

Well, even if they were illegal... it's not like there was anyone down here looking to stop you.

Hmm, scratch that.

Something told me that I was being watched.

Maybe it was my soldier's intuition.

Or maybe it was the cloaked figure watching me from the shadows.

Zero points for stealth.

After hurrying through a few crowds, as well as taking some sharp turns, I lost my pursuer.

The hostile looks I received along the way were to be expected.

Finally, I found a secluded, L-shaped alleyway.

One filled with heaps of foul-smelling garbage and carrion, the perfect place for a smoke.

After rolling the bright powder into a cigarra, I lit the tip.

The taste was as awful as ever, but it was never about that.

I was after the feeling, and it didn't take long for it to come over me once again.

First, it was a rush of awareness. Awareness of the smallest speck of sediment on my sleeve.

Next, I began to see vibrant colors everywhere.

And finally... I stopped caring about anything.

Gradually, I phased into another dimension entirely.

The sleazy, gloomy alleyway morphed into a hall of hallucinatory wonders.

I exhaled another cloud of smoke.

One moment, I was holding the lit cigarra between two fingers.

The next, the death stick was gone from my grasp.

"I'm disappointed in you, Lieutenant." General Gallia rebuked sternly, revealing herself from the shadows.

The Jedi Master examined the lit cigarra for a brief period, thereafter tossing it over her shoulder.

"I'm not sure you understand the severity of the situation you're in." she pestered, frowning.

"What are you gonna do? You need me." I laughed, rolling up another death stick.

My second attempt at a cigarra was also snatched away by the Jedi.

Killjoy.

Suddenly, I felt the bag being pulled away from my grasp as well.

I held onto it firmly, but to no avail.

Instead, she opted to unseal the bag and scatter its contents across the alley.

All telekinetically.

"Fuck you." I grumbled, sitting down in a defeated position.

"Please. I don't want to send you back to Kamino, Lieutenant." General Gallia begged, her voice pained.

"What? So they can fix me? Go ahead, try it, but I don't really see what the problem is here." I growled, my vision still tainted by rainbows.

"These drugs will corrupt your mind over time, you must know that." she contended frankly.

"It's no different than what you do. You distance yourself, isn't that right? Whether through powder or not, it's all the same."

"Please, Lieutenant, try to gain control over yourself. Otherwise, I will have no choice but to utilize disciplinary action." she uttered threateningly.

"You can't threaten me with punishment, General. Not when every day already feels like one." I spat back.

Later

Zevon

As I journeyed through the temple halls with my master, she suddenly asked me a question.

"Padawan..." Master Gallia started with an analytical tone. "You're somewhat acquainted with Lieutenant Burst, correct?"

"Yeah, I'd say so." I answered, surprised.

Burst and I were more than acquainted... we were friends. I had a lot in common with the clones, more than most Jedi.

Of course, we'd also shared that near-death experience on Jedha. It wasn't something you just forgot.

And... after Burst lost his closest friend, his brother, someone had to fill that void.

If anyone could.

"The Lieutenant is proving... problematic. For some time now, he's been committing minor acts of disobedience." she informed, contextualizing her question.

"Oh..? And why do you think that is, master?" I questioned, feigning obliviousness.

Master Gallia immediately picked up on my sarcasm, shooting me a cold look.

"Well, I assume he's still grieving over the loss of Trooper Slipstream." she answered simply.

'Ding ding, we've got a winner!' I thought, mentally rolling my eyes.

"He seems to bear some resentment toward me, I was hoping you could provide some insight as to why." Master Gallia confessed.

"Because he blames you for dragging Slip to his death, and because you don't seem to regret it at all." I spat bluntly.

"Then it's as I thought." my master stated, unperturbed by my rudeness. "I did lead Trooper Slipstream to his death, and I fully accept that blame. My only hope is that Lieutenant Burst's personal feelings don't affect his performance."

"Are the clones really just assets to you?" I accused, clenching my fist as we reached dangerous territory.''

"No." Master Gallia postured strongly. "The clones are living beings, individuals in the force. To tell you the truth, I find it disheartening that such a thing as a clone army even exists."

"Really, Master? I've never gotten that from you." I admitted, blindsided by her take on the matter.

"That's because I don't pretend to be chummy with my troopers. I treat them as soldiers, and nothing more." Master Gallia continued. "Jedi like Master Plo or Skywalker have their own approach, I have mine. Smiling at the clones, whispering wonderful lies into their ears as you groom them to be fodder... I find that to be far more cruel."

"The clones never had a choice. I'd like to think that deserves some sympathy." I argued, now frustrated with my master.

"Not all of us are allowed one... it's no different than you or I." my master refuted. "Maybe in another life, I would have grown alongside my brothers and sisters. Yet... here I am, a proud Jedi Master of the republic, because my parents believed in my destiny, so much so that they let me go."

"That's not really the same situation." I rebutted, increasingly irked.

Master Gallia shrugged.

"Some of us are entrusted with a greater purpose. Whether we chose it or not, we have to uphold it regardless." she finished, resolute.

"Of course." I concurred, mentally done with the conversation.

This was one of the things that infuriated me the most about my master.

It wasn't ignorance that kept her away from compassion, far from it.

She was very emotionally intelligent.

At long last, we found ourselves at the door to my master's quarters.

"I've prepared about a dozen holo-recordings for you to view, even the basics of form V if you'd like to get a jump on that." Master Gallia stated, opening the door.

"Wow." I blurted out, seeing the size of her quarters. Jedi Masters sure got to live the life.

Additionally, her room was as neat as I expected it to be.

"This meeting shouldn't be too long. Wait here until I return." she assured, closing the door on me as she departed for the council chamber.

Left to my own devices, I began flicking through the recordings Master Gallia had left out for me.

Several were of a younger version of her, going through the fundamentals of form V, Djem So.

Two were of Master Kenobi displaying his indomitable form III, Soresu.

Some were of Master Yoda showcasing his almost mythical mastery of form IV, Ataru.

One was of a dignified, tall man practicing form II, Makashi. Interestingly, his lightsaber had a curved hilt.

Eventually, I got bored. Without an open space to actually practice the techniques, there wasn't really any point in studying them.

So, I started to snoop around.

During my thorough inspection of my master's quarters, I came across many odd trinkets.

In time, my investigation brought me to a chest in the corner.

It was already unlocked.

Just my luck.

Inside were several well-kept physical books.

A rare find.

I couldn't help myself.

"Chronicles of a Jedi Master..." I said out loud to myself, reading the title.

With sudden clarity, I realized exactly what the volumes were.

Master Gallia's autobiography.

'Who has the time to write this much??' I thought, shaking my head at the girth of the breadth of the copies.

Ultimately, my curiosity got the better of me.

Master Gallia already knew my life story. It was only fair.

Chronicles of a Jedi Master, Volume One: The Beginning

Greetings.

This is Jedi Master Adi Gallia, esteemed member of the Jedi High Council.

'Yes, you must think very highly of yourself.' I chuckled to myself.

I started skipping through the contents.

I was born on Coruscant, despite my family being native to Corellia.

We had that first part in common, of course.

The loving hands of my mother cradling me as I came into being.

If only I could remember that.

Curiously, there was no Jedi that discovered me. A simple blood test identified me as force-sensitive.

Weird.

My force affinity was substantial, but I especially showed promise as a duelist. Thus, I attracted the attention of many prospective Jedi Masters. One such Knight took me on as his apprentice as soon as I became eligible.

Would've been nice.

My entire world shattered that day.

The training was brutal. It was brutal, but it bestowed on me my strength and wisdom.

My master filtered out my unsavory qualities, giving me focus and discipline.

He would often lock me within my quarters for days on end. Lights off and everything. I was resistant at first, but I learned to exist in my harsh new reality.

"Food, water... a Jedi has no need for such trivialities. A Jedi needs only the force." he stated.

...

Her memories started to take a dark turn.

I turned the page.

As the days went on... well, I couldn't exactly keep track of the days. Regardless, I was rarely given a drink or a meal. To ascend beyond the physical realm, I had to free myself of my desires.

The initial stabbing pains of starvation gradually faded, replaced with a wilting weakness. For months on end, my only sustenance was a weekly ration. For months on end, my only light was the stars.

I squinted my eyes in disbelief.

This... this wasn't right.

It felt sinister.

Back then, I was unable to appreciate my master's methods the way I do now. As a result, I tried to escape many times. On one such occasion, I made it to the streets of Coruscant. With only my distant memories to guide me, my senses lead me to my birthplace.

"Sister, is that you?!" my brother called from the porch.

I had insisted to him that I lived there.

"Wait here!" he urged me.

He rushed into the house, going to fetch my mother.

Then, I felt a hand seize my wrist with commanding force... and Master Windu brought me back.

Still stupefied by what I was reading, I flipped to the end.

Then, I went to the next one.

Chronicles of a Jedi Master, Volume Two: The Path

Talented as I was, I was a quick learner of the seven forms of lightsaber combat. Master Windu chose me for that very reason.

I definitely couldn't relate.

However, despite my abilities, there was one discipline that I never mastered.

'Oh?' I thought to myself, intrigued.

Lightsaber form VII, specifically Master Windu's variant. It was his ultimate art, a trump card that gave him his place among the order's most fearsome duelists.

Vaapad.

That was probably how that bastard beat me.

Vaapad is... paradoxical... dangerous. It's controversial, to say the least. Regardless, Master Windu is respected enough to avoid any potential scrutiny.

The reason it's so controversial is this: to unleash Vaapad's full power, a user must dip their toe into their inner dark side. The traditional form VII, Juyo, is used by Sith for this very reason. It allows a practitioner to fully focus their anger, hatred, and passion, siphoning that darkness into their blade.

"Interesting... interesting!" muttered excitedly.

Master Windu created Vaapad specifically to counter that darkness. His technique conducts a darksider's strength so that it backfires, making Vaapad the bane of the Sith.

Again and again, I tried to master Vaapad, but to no avail. My emotions were too volatile.

"Control your darkness!" he yelled in my ear.

My master's disappointment in my failure haunts me to this day.

It is my one and only regret.

Suddenly, the door creaked behind me.

I turned.

Master Gallia.

There she was, staring directly at me from the doorway...

As I held her story in my hands.

Her lip started to quiver violently.

I steeled myself for a heated outburst, but it never came.

She muttered something under her breath, but it was too soft for me to hear.

"What?" I asked, putting the book down, unsure of how to react.

"Leave. Please, just leave." my master begged, her voice shaky.

"I'm sorry..." I apologized, passing her at the bedside.

"And turn off the light as you leave." she added.

Adi

As Zevon departed, he left me in pitch black.

Crushing, constricting darkness.

"To see properly, first you must know blindness." I murmured, echoing my master's words.

As the blackness crept closer, I felt myself begin to tremble.

My breaths shortened.

Attempting to gain control of myself, I flushed away my emotions before they could brim to the surface.

Finally, sitting on my bed, I hunched over and put my head in my hands.