3rd Person
The life of a Jedi was worlds apart from the life of an ordinary citizen of the Galaxy.
For one, force-sensitive children selected by the order were separated from their family during infancy. Called needlessly cruel by some, this practice ensured future Jedi did not develop strong attachments to their birth parents. After all, attachments were dangerous. They clouded one's mind and made one more vulnerable to the dark side. A Jedi's purpose must extend beyond the physical realm. Any emotional baggage would simply weigh down a Jedi Knight. At least, that's what the council believed.
Such an act of separation came with its own issues. Without tangible parental figures in the life of a nascent youth, how would they learn basic communication? How would they develop properly? Who would be their role models?
This ailment was remedied by the relationship between master and apprentice. Or, that was the intention. A padawan's master acted as their guide in all areas of life, not just their Jedi training. Of course, each individual master had their own methods. Some preferred a more hands-off approach, such as Jedi Master Luminara Unduli. Some insisted on rigid discipline, like Jedi Master Adi Gallia and Jedi Master Mace Windu. Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker stood apart from the rest, with his unorthodox perspective.
That aside... there were always Jedi who, for one reason or another, became lost. Lost was a label the council used to describe all Jedi that had left the order. Many of the lost had turned to the dark side, killing their former colleagues in cold blood.
Of particular note were the Lost Twenty, the lone twenty Jedi Masters to leave the order throughout all of time. Count Dooku was among them, having felt that the Jedi had become too shackled to the bureaucracy of the republic.
Their grievances notwithstanding, one had to wonder. Where did it all go wrong? How did so many Jedi lose their way?
Zevon
Suddenly, I found myself blinded by a ray of light that shone high above the spiral staircase. My eyes had adjusted too much to the murky darkness below. With only a vertical ascent, we would be free of the army of machines pursuing us.
"Comm... ander. Wait... up!" Burst huffed as he appeared beside me.
"Sorry, guess I zoned out." I confessed, realizing I had left behind most of the company. The thrill of cutting down my first battle droid had usurped my better judgement. Hey, wait a minute! Burst actually caught up to me, albeit with his max effort. Still, that was impressive.
"You're... fast... kid... er... commander, sorry. You're... too fast." he muttered, exhaling and inhaling rapidly. The both of us opted to wait a bit to let the rest catch up.
"Did you see me slash that clanker?" I asked, eagerly.
"Yeah, nice job with the quick thinking; that hunk of junk came out of nowhere. I'm just glad we were able to avoid the rest." he responded, sharing his thoughts.
"What, are you scared of them?" I teased, jokingly. Burst winced, his expression turning somber.
"Yeah. I am." he said. An uncomfortable silence spread out between us.
"Uh... sorry." I apologized sheepishly.
My bad, should've thought before saying that to a clone.
"No worries, I know you didn't mean anything by it." he replied, his voice distant.
At that moment, the stragglers arrived. Wasting not a moment further, we exited the temple. The temple that was now occupied territory.
With our getaway executed successfully, the aftermath began. We had our answers. The separatists were involved, exploiting the ethereal crystals within the ancient holy site. Now the question was simple; what next? Our trek back to Jedha City would have to be quick. With her hand revealed, Ventress was a like a leaking canister of rhydonium. Unstable, and unpredictable at that.
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The Weakest Jedi
Fanfiction*OC version of The Weakest Jedi.* The story of a young boy and his foolish dream. Born into the hellish underworld of Coruscant, Zevon was found by the Jedi at a young age and welcomed into the order. There's a slight problem, though... Zevon's forc...