Quest for a Jedi

by DropkickJake

        Aron Ors stepped off The Raven's Claw and onto the Jedi Academy grounds, facing the Great Temple. The sun was setting behind it with beautiful shades of red and blue shown all over the night sky.
        "I told you it was beautiful," said Aron's uncle, Kyle Katarn.
        "Nothing special," Aron lied in a sullen tone. He was truly moved by beauty of the sunset, but he wasn't happy to see it.
        "Even you have to find this impressive," Kyle prodded.
        "I don't have to do anything. I am not exactly happy to be here, and I'm not here by choice," Aron rebuked.
        "I just thought that-,"
        "No one asked you to think old man. In fact I don't remember any one asking you to take me here," Aron argued. What once was impatient bickering on his part was now heated arguing.
        "I just thought that since Jan and I am the closest thing to family you have-,"
        "No you aren't! Someone needs to teach you something about family. Just because you are my uncle doesn't mean you're family!  Jan was twenty-five when my father was born. I never saw her, my dad hardly ever saw her and she was his sister. The first time I ever saw you was when you picked me up on Nar Shaddaa. My parents had been gone for a year already when you got there and I was doing just fine. I had friends who were more family than you ever were or will be!" Aron shouted.
        "You needed help. Your father has been gone for a whole year, probably dead at a bounty hunter's blaster for losing a load of spice. Your mom is so addicted to spice that she is no longer a person but an empty shell. You wouldn't have survived much longer there any way; not the way you lived. Drinking, bar fights, playing swoop hoop for a living, and all at the age of fifteen?!" Kyle explained slowly.
        "Shut- up," Aron said slowly with so much anger in him that his eyes were watering and his muscles were tense and shaking. He knew that what Kyle said about his life was true, but he also knew he could have survived on Nar Shaddaa very well.
        Kyle saw the anger in his nephew and it worried him. Such anger was not a good thing in a Jedi in training. 
        "I'd like you to meet a few people, mostly instructors, and then you can find a room and go to sleep," Kyle said as they approached the Great Temple.
        "That's the only good idea you've had since I met you," Aron said coldly.

Aron met with most of his instructors, but Valin Horn was the only one he didn't despise from their first conversation. Most of them came off as self-righteous, pompous Jedi, but Valin seemed very grounded and normal.

        "There's one more person I'd like you to meet," said Kyle as they approached a room on the third level of the great temple.
        "Great," Aron said mockingly, "let's go meet some more Jedi brats."
        "I think you'll find this `brat' different," Kyle replied while he knocked on the door.
        "Come in," said a voice from beyond the door.
        "Hello Ben!" exclaimed Kyle.
        "Hi Master Katarn," Ben replied, "Who's your friend?"
        "This is Aron Ors, he'll be training with you now," Aron's uncle answered.
        `Under protest,' Aron muttered.
        "Excuse me?" Ben questioned; he honestly didn't know what Aron had said.
        "Oh . . .  I was just wondering what you will be teaching me. With Valin horn teaching me force guided flying and saber defense, Kyp Durron teaching me TK, and Katarn here tells me Jacen Solo will be teaching me force philosophy, I was wondering what was left to learn," Aron covered.
        "Well there is plenty left to learn, but I won't be teaching anything, I'll be learning right next to you," Ben replied with a chuckle.
        "But you look old enough to have graduated at least five years ago," responded Aron.
        "I'm 23," Ben explained, "But I uhh . . . well had an erhh . . . I kind a left the academy, well ran away more like, when I was 15, not a time I'm proud of.  But I'm back now, and I know that a Jedi is what I am."
        "Well, if you left, why in hell can't I?" Aron roared.
        "You don't want to be here?" Ben inquired.
        "No! And if it's quite alright with you," Aron pointed at himself with his thumb, "I'll go home now!"
        "He is here at my request, I am his uncle, and home for him is not a place any 15 year old should have to live," Kyle replied calmly.
         "I am in no place to decide such matters," Ben told the others.
        "Well let's go talk to Luke Skywalker, he can decide and I can go home!" Aron bellowed.
        "I'm afraid he will be gone for the next seven months. However, my cousin Jacen should return within the next few weeks, he is wise. He can give you an answer," Ben said.
        "I can wait a month, but right now I want to go to sleep. It's like six in the morning on Nar Shaddaa and I haven't slept in close to two full days," Aron stated exasperated. 
        "I'll show you to your room," Kyle said.

Aron's new room was right next to the hanger. He liked that, when it was time to go he could leave quickly. He took of his long black nerf hide trench coat, revealing a dagger strapped along his left rib cage, and a blaster that was tucked into his belt. He took off his blaster and looked at the blaster pack and chuckled. He had bought this blaster over a year ago, but the charge was still full; he had never fired it. He was proud of this, for he could finish a fight before his opponent could draw one. He sat on the edge of his cot, reminiscing of all the bar fights he and his friend Ace had gone through. How he missed them! And he Missed Ace even more. He didn't have a serious bone in his body, always laughing and joking around. He was the reason for half the bar fights he had ever been in, and they came out worse off in several of them. But he and Ace were somewhat of a legend in the Sarish sector of Nar Shaddaa; towards the time that Aron left, he and Ace hadn't lost many bar fights, and so many of them were to men much larger than themselves. Ace, whose real name was Kryss, could be described in three words, rebellious rich kid. He could have anything he wanted from is parents, and regularly got a new air speeder, though he was defiant of his parents. His parents usually wore the finest clothes and regularly got their hair trimmed or pirmmed. Ace was different; he chose to wear baggy denim pants and dark greens. His unkempt hair fell over his ears and well past his eyes when his bangs fell strait down, though his dirty blonde hair normally curved at his eyebrows. He was much taller than Aron, who was only about 5' 6"; Aron came up to about Ace's nose. Ace always seemed to have a girl at his side, often a new girl every week, and rarely the same girl for a month. Ace was the most loyal friend a person could have; he constantly stood up for Aron when he was picked on for his size. Aron tossed the blaster on the table next to his cot. Now Aron unclipped the dagger from the strap along his ribcage. He gently stroked the designs carved on the hilt and the sheath, a challis on the hilt, and a sword with wings on the sheath. It would seem like nothing more than a bountiful dagger to most, but to one well versed in Sarish tradition, as Aron was, it meant so much more. In ancient times on Sarland, when a woman chose her future husband she would make a dagger with her families coat of arms on its hilt, and that of her suitor on its sheath. If the man accepted the dagger, he accepted the proposal to wed. The man would often make a sword for himself with images of the two families coat of arms combined. This dagger had been given to him by Larais O' Shanesy. Her family's coat of arms, a gold challis on a purple background symbolized her family, as did all coat of arms. The golden challis represented her family's earliest ancestors, who were priests, and the purple background represented her family's royal background. There were many different families that had at some point ruled the Sarland, but her's was the last family to rule as a monarchy, and the family that introduced democracy. The winged sword on the sheath came from the Ors' coat of arms. A gold sword represented both the family's past wealth and history as warriors, and the light green background represented all the land that his ancestors held on Sarland. Many, including Ace and especially Aron, thought that Larais is the most beautiful girl on all of Nar Shaddaa. Aron missed her more than anyone or anything else on Nar Shaddaa, he missed her dark, shiny hair that fell down just passed her shoulders, he missed her beautiful brown eyes with an even darker ring around her irises, but most of all he missed talking with her. After gently setting the dagger on the table, Aron undressed and went to bed.

"Aron, Aron I missed you so much," said the bountiful brown-eyed girl as she hugged Aron tightly. "I missed you to Larais," Aron said, hugging back tightly. "You gave us a big scare, getting hurt like that," Larais said, with tears welling up in her eyes. "I'm so sorry," Aron said. It killed him to see those tears in her bountiful brown eyes. "I- while you were in the- while you were gone, I was thinking," She searched for the right words, "I was thinking, and I don't want you caught in a fight without a weapon, and . . . ." "I know, I went out and bought a blaster right before I saw you. It'll okay, I promise," Aron pleaded. "I just- I still want to give you this," she said, handing him a bountiful dagger, with coat of arms of her house on the hilt, and of his on the sheath. Aron looked at it smiling, "Do you now what you offer, this is not just dagger to me-," Aron began to say. "I know exactly what I offer, my hand in marriage, it is yours for the taking," Larias said longingly, moving closer to Aron. "If it is mine for the taking, then I take it," Aron replied, moving in for a kiss. They kissed for what seemed an eternity, and yet, not long enough. "I love you Larais," Aron said once they stopped. "Wake up," said Larais, though it sounded nothing like her. "Excuse me?" Aron questioned.
"Wake up," said the voice, "it's time to go to lessons." Slowly the image of Larais evaporated into darkness, and Aron opened his eyes to see his uncle Aron standing in the door way.

Kyle finally talked his nephew into going to lessons that day, though it was not easy. Aron fought until he decided that it would be better to waste time pretending to listen to who ever was going to teach him something than to argue with his uncle any longer. Aron had trouble with using the force at first, but he soon got the hang the TK that Kyp Durron was teaching him. He felt like a fool learning however, he was in a group with Ganner Solo, the son of the great Jacen Solo and Tenel Ka, and Wedge and Winter Fel, the twin offspring of Jaina Solo and Jag Fel. All three of these children made Aron feel absolutely inadequate. He wasn't aware that these students, although they were all within a year of him in age, had been using the force from infancy. Ganner was the perfect child; he never acted poorly, or go against his parents wishes. He had red hair and cool gray eyes, like his mother; however, though he resembled his mother, Tenel Ka, he acted like his father. He was very passive, and tended to question things deeply. He had already constructed has light saber and was a terrific swordsman, but preferred to not draw his weapon. He accompanied his mother and father on various missions, but has only fought on one occasion. Wedge was as far from Ganner as possible. Though he is two years younger than his cousin, he was taller than Ganner by at least two inches and had dark hair and eyes. He was quick to fight, which is apparently not a good trait in a young Jedi (not good news for Aron). It was because of this that he had not been allowed to construct a light saber as of yet. His uncle Jacen was especially worried about his nephew's brashness. Winter was the quiet one. Between her brother and cousin she could barely get a word in. it was because of this that many thought that she was not reaching her potential, and could be the most powerful out of her siblings. No matter how quiet she was, her will was strong. When she new something had to be done, she did it without question. Her sandy brow hair was put up into braids that resembled those of her grandmother, Leia Organa Solo, and her mother's brown eyes.

After the TK lessons Aron went with the same group to combat lessons. He thought he looked dumb at TK lessons, but he really looked like an idiot here. This really wasn't his fault; Valin Horn paired him with Ganner, who had much more experience fighting wit a long bladed sword than Aron did. Aron was sure that he could take anyone of them in a fistfight, but had no hope in a sword fight. They fought with light saber length sticks, they were rather thin, and so a sharp hit from one would sting greatly, but do little actual damage. Valin Horn had suggested that Aron give himself to the Force, and to let it instruct him. Aron had many welts before he decided to listen. At the end of the day he had finally blocked many of Ganner's strikes, and even struck him once on the calf.

At the end of the day he was exhausted, and could barely move. He decided not to go to lessons the following day. And to his surprise, his uncle did not argue with him, saying that he was glad at Aron's improvement.

Many weeks had past and Aron had almost stopped going to lessons all together when a great surprise lifted his spirits.

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