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Later that night, after forcing himself to eat the grey slop in the cafeteria, Peter returned to his room. The desire to fix his Walkman still lingered, but his lack of technical know-how hindered progress. Instead, he decided to dedicate the evening to meditation, attempting to gain control over the Force within him.
After all, he saw what happened when his emotions went out of control, shaking his room in anger. Now, he had to find a way to keep his emotions under control and the only way he could think of to do that was meditation.
Sitting on the bed in his spartan room, Peter closed his eyes, focusing on his breath. Thoughts of the broken Walkman, his deceased mother, the Ravagers, the Jedi training to come, and the mysterious Force swirled in his mind. Slowly, he felt a connection, a thread linking him to the Force that permeated the temple.
As Peter delved into a meditative state, he began to sense the ebb and flow of the Force, a subtle energy that intertwined with his own essence. It was a delicate dance, a communion between the universe and his consciousness. Through this communion, Peter sought to harness the emotions that had once caused a chaotic upheaval in his room.
The night unfolded in quiet contemplation, a solitary journey within the realm of the Force. The echoes of his past life, the challenges of the present, and the uncertainty of the future converged in a symphony of introspection.
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The following morning, the same droid as yesterday, ever efficient, arrived promptly to wake Peter up and escort him to his first day of classes. Disgruntled and still half-asleep, Peter followed the metallic guide through the familiar corridors, adorned with the unfeeling elegance of the Jedi temple.
Upon entering the training hall, the gaze of curious younglings fixated on him. Whispers of speculation floated in the air, accompanied by puzzled expressions. Peter's arrival, an anomaly in the order's usual recruitment, sparked both intrigue and skepticism among the young Jedi acolytes.
As he navigated through the crowd of young Force-sensitive beings, a small Twi'lek girl, who couldn't have been more than 5 years old, her azure skin standing out in the sea of diverse faces, mustered the courage to approach him. "H-Hi…" she greeted nervously, her wide eyes filled with innocent curiosity.
[Insert picture of Aayla Secura here] (A/N: Bonus points for a younger version as well)
"Hello," Peter replied, offering a half-smile to the little Twi'lek. He wasn't used to dealing with children, so he appeared a bit awkward. "What's your name?"
"I'm Aayla," she chirped, her small hands fidgeting with the hem of her robe. "Why are you so tall? How old are you?"
'Is this Aayla Secura?' Peter wondered, kneeling down to be at eye level with her. "Well, I'm Peter and I'm 9 years old, and I'm pretty sure that I'm normal height… What about you? Why are you so short?"
Aayla's eyes narrowed as she animatedly glared at Peter, her former nervousness disappearing in an instant. "I'm not short! You're just old!"
Peter couldn't help but be charmed by her cute angry face. "What do you mean I'm old? I haven't even hit double digits yet. And are you sure you're not short? How old are you again, shorty?"
"Don't call me shorty!" Aayla practically screamed, drawing everyone's attention. "And I'm 5 years old!" She announced, holding up all five fingers.
"Huh…" Peter sagely nodded his head, looking her up and down. "You still seem kinda short."
"!" Aayla seemed ready to explode from Peter's teasing, but before she could, the doors suddenly swung open and their teacher came walking in.
"Good morning, it is." Yoda greeted everyone, a serene air about him as always.
Yoda, with his characteristic gait and wise aura, effortlessly drew the attention of every youngling in the room as he ambled towards the front. The air seemed to shift as he turned his gaze towards Peter, their newest addition. "Welcome to the Jedi Temple, young Peter Quill," Yoda greeted, his voice carrying a depth of ancient wisdom. "In the Bear Clan, you are now."
As the younglings exchanged curious glances, Yoda proceeded to explain the concept of Clans within the temple. "In the Temple, Clans are many. Bear Clan, Clan Kowak, Hawk-Bat Clan, and more. Together, learn you will under the watchful eye of a teacher," Yoda continued, his speech rhythmic and deliberate. "Now, the Bear Clan, your family is. Learn, grow, and face challenges together, you will."
Peter listened attentively as Yoda explained the bonds they would form, the shared lessons, and the guidance that would come from their Clan.
As Yoda spoke, the younglings absorbed the information, their eyes wide with curiosity. Peter found himself annoyed by the concept of this newfound family, the Bear Clan. After all, underneath his childlike body was a grown man, who sadly, didn't like children very much. He didn't necessarily hate them, but he did find them grating and annoying at times.
But of course, he kept his thoughts to himself, so as not to ruin his chances at becoming a Jedi.
The green-skinned Jedi Grandmaster then delved into the specifics of their education. "Main teacher, I am, but not alone. Many lessons, different masters will share. Learn, you shall, from each other's strengths," Yoda explained, his eyes surveying the young faces before him. "Much to discover, you have. Together, face it, we will."
After Yoda's welcoming introduction resonated in the training hall, Peter found himself immersed in the routine of a Jedi youngling. The day unfolded with Force studies in the morning, a session dedicated to opening the young Jedi's mind to the Force. The lessons centered on abilities focused on self-control and self-awareness.
Guided by a patient Jedi instructor, Initiates like Peter were introduced to the nuances of Control and the many techniques that came along with it.
Tutaminis to absorb energy. Curato salva for self-healing, and Altus sopor to enhance focus through the Force. Despite the unfamiliarity of these abilities, Peter approached the lessons with a mix of curiosity and determination, eager to master the mysterious power that now flowed within him.
Midday studies shifted to more traditional subjects, taught by non-Jedi instructors. The younglings delved into political strategy, galactic law, sciences, and languages.
Peter navigated the diverse curriculum with varying degrees of interest, finding certain subjects more engaging than others. Political strategy, with its complexities and nuances, particularly caught his attention, mirroring the intricacies of the earths politics, just on a much grander scale.
For example, Peter learned that the Galaxy was mainly split between 3 separate Governments. The Galactic Republic, which controls a whopping 60%, mainly making up the center of the galaxy.
The remaining big players of the Galaxy are the Kree and Nova Empires, both of which seem to be on the brink of war with one another other.
The Kree empire just finished a war against the Skrulls as well. They even got into some trouble for trying to commit genocide. The Galactic Republic came down on them pretty hard, but still, they decided to go and start another war with the Nova Empire after digesting all of the Skrulls land, erasing their nation completely.
Of course, there are other, much smaller nations as well, such as Centaurians or the Sovereign, but they tend to populate extremely minuscule portions of the outer rim of the Galaxy.
'Why isn't Asgard mentioned?' Peter wondered…
In the afternoons, the training hall echoed with the hum of lightsabers. The young Jedi Initiates, Peter among them, engaged in physical activities that included lightsaber training.
Under the watchful eyes of skilled instructors, they practiced very rudimentary forms of lightsaber combat. The metallic clash of training sabers filled the air as Initiates honed their skills.
Despite Peter's initial awkwardness with the lightsaber, he found a certain familiarity in the weapon's weight and balance. The instructors, recognizing his potential, observed with a discerning eye as Peter gradually adapted to the lightsaber techniques.
'Now this is what I'm talking about…' Peter smirked as he swung his practice saber for the hundredth time, sweat dripping down his face. Some might find the force techniques to be the coolest part of being a Jedi, but Peter would beg to differ. For him, it was all about being a beast with a laser sword.
Of course, that didn't mean Peter would slack off on his force training, as that was a very close second place for him. There was just something so primal and bada*s about wielding a sword that he felt deep in his bones.
As Peter was happily swinging his sword, ignoring the fatigue that began to build up in his muscles, the instructors that circled the practicing younglings all turned to him at once, shocked as they noticed him subconsciously using the force to both heal his fatigue and empower his movements.
'He really is the chosen one…' They thought, realizing just how crucial Peter's training really was.
The day's schedule also featured mandatory meditation sessions interspersed throughout. As the younglings settled into quiet reflection, Peter, with his adult-like patience and calm demeanor, excelled in these moments of introspection. The soothing resonance of the Force became a familiar companion during these sessions, guiding him through the labyrinth of his own thoughts.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, marking the end of his first full day in the Jedi Temple, Peter flopped down on his bed, exhausted beyond belief. 'This is harder than I thought it would be…' He thought as he turned his head to see his broken Walkman sitting in his desk. 'I need to get that fixed tomorrow…'
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In a dark and secluded laboratory far across the galaxy, Darth Plagueis, the long faced and pale skinned Muun Sith Lord, sat surrounded by arcane equipment. His eyes fixed on Shmi Skywalker, a restrained and unconscious slave woman who had been under his ownership for months.
Plagueis, driven by his thirst for power, delved into twisted Sith experiments.
[Insert picture of Shmi here]
This week, his focus intensified on attempting to create life through the Force within Shmi. The Muun Sith Lord sought to fashion a fatherless child, a being with a direct connection to the Force itself. The walls of the laboratory echoed with the hum of dark energies as Plagueis manipulated the Force to shape the life he desired.
As he scrutinized the results of his experiments, frustration gnawed at him. Creating life through the Force proved more challenging than he anticipated. With every failure, he felt the urge to take his anger out on Shmi, yet he couldn't risk harming a perfectly good test subject.
Plagueis's ultimate goal was to transfer his consciousness into a worthy, human vessel, desiring to spearhead the Sith takeover of the Galactic Republic as a more acceptable figurehead than his non-human form would allow.
Basically, he needed a human body to navigate the political intricacies of the Republic.
Although the Senate isn't overtly racist, as they have all sorts of races populating its many seats, only humans have ever been elected Chancellor, which is why he was relying so heavily on his apprentice at the moment.
An apprentice whose loyalties he was beginning to doubt. Which is why he sought a contingency plan to secure his own dominance in the Sith order.
Right now, his human apprentice is the one making the moves for him, but Plagueis didn't like relying on someone who would no doubt betray him, just as he betrayed his master.
'It is the Sith way after all…' Plagueis thought.
Despite his ruthless determination, the Sith experiments on Shmi faltered. The Muun grew increasingly impatient, realizing that relying on Shmi to bear the chosen child of the Force might be a futile endeavor.
Compelled by frustration, he tightened his grip on her unconscious form using the force, momentarily entertaining the idea of ending her insignificant life.
Medical equipment beeped urgently, signaling complications, but Plagueis, in a fit of rage, ultimately reconsidered, sparing her life. Shmi, kept sedated and unaware of her Sith master's machinations, survived the outburst.
However, Plagueis decided to cut his losses. Frustration swelled within him, and he chose to sell Shmi, viewing her as nothing more than a commodity that might bring some small financial gain, which could fund future experiments.
But unbeknownst to the Sith Lord, as Shmi was carted off to an uncertain fate, a potential success loomed within her. The Sith experiment had indeed borne fruit, and Shmi carried the seed of a possible chosen one of the Force, Anakin Skywalker.
A/N: 2100 words :)
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