Kieran sat cross-legged on his sleeping mat in the small dormitory he shared with other initiates. The room was simple, like everything else in the temple—bare walls, neatly arranged bunks, and an air of order that seemed almost oppressive at times. He sighed, staring at the small potted plant on the floor in front of him, its leaves trembling slightly as he reached out to it with the Force.
He was getting better at controlling it, that much was clear. The plant lifted smoothly into the air, rotating gently, before settling back down. But despite the progress, a knot of frustration twisted in his chest.
The Jedi Code didn’t sit right with him. The insistence on suppressing emotions, on avoiding attachments—it felt wrong. Cold. He’d heard Master Yoda and others speak about how attachments led to suffering, fear, and the dark side, but Kieran couldn’t shake the feeling that they were missing something. Life wasn’t meant to be lived in a vacuum, devoid of passion and connection. Was it? He was sure he hadn't lived like that in his past life, he couldn't have with a personality like this.
One thing that was fun though, was his progress with a lightsaber. Well, it was not a normal lightsaber but rather, a training lightsaber. Although he was currently only learning Form I, Shii-Cho, he was still having fun and getting good at it. Though, he didn't think he would become as good with a lightsaber as Yoda, Windu, or Plo Koon in a decade but he felt his talent in lightsabers wasn't bad, especially since he had been learning everything well. He felt the same way about the Force. Although he was told that he had over 20,000 midichlorian counts, he still couldn't believe that he would be as powerful as Yoda or Sidious.
He already knew what lightsaber form he wanted to train in. Well, lightsaber forms since he wanted to train in three separate forms. Form 2, 4, and 5. He wanted to train in Form 2 because it was mainly made specifically for lightsaber combat. And he had seen Count Dookuu - well, not Count since he hadn't left the Jedi order yet so Master Dookuu spar with other Jedi Masters. He looked extremely elegant and composed sparring. As for Form 4, he wanted to make use of his agility. He knew he was fast, faster than the average Force-sensitive sentient in the galaxy. So he wanted to take advantage of that. And the fact that Master Yoda was also proficient in that form so he could ask him for advice or maybe even learn from him. That small green guy was unassuming but he sure as hell can beat somebody up. As for Form 5, it was simply because he was a big fan of Darth Vader's fighting style. It wasn’t just about strength or counterattacks—it was the way the form felt like pure dominance.
Still, Kieran couldn’t ignore the doubts. Wanting to master three forms—and someday, maybe even dabble in others like Soresu for defense—felt ambitious, bordering on reckless. But the Force whispered to him, urged him forward. If he dedicated himself to the blade, could he truly master them all? Yes, he responded. He would.
He sighed as he got up and walked towards the Jedi Archive. There were countless knowledge there, ones he was keen on knowing. Especially those about history. He wanted to know how much it lined up with his own knowledge. For example, he knew everything about Revan. He knew how Revan got his mask, how Revan got his lightsabers, how Revan turned to the dark side and was brought back, how his dark side anger was so strong he revived himself and tried to revive the Emperor Vitiate just to kill him again. And after that, all of his knowledge was blank before knowing about what would happen in the future. Not in detail, of course, but he knew that Jedi Master Qui Gon Jin would face Darth Maul soon, in about 10 months, he knew Anakin would be in the Jedi Temple soon, he knew Anakin Skywalker would become Darth Vader and lose all his limbs. And after that, another blank before finally knowing about Luke Skywalker and the corresponding events until Emperor Palpaltine's death. He vague knew that Luke Skywalker would go on to become the strongest Force user and reform the Jedi Order but all of those were vague and hazy parts. Besides all of those, he seems to know odd terms like Swiss army knife. Like what was even that? What's a Swiss? He knew what it meant. It meant something that's extremely versatile and adaptable. But he had never even heard of that before. He chalked it up to odd terms he remembered from his old life.
Kieran lingered in the Jedi Archive, the faint glow of holopads casting a soft blue hue across his face. The vast chamber was silent except for the occasional hum of the terminals. Rows upon rows of data shelves stretched endlessly, filled with the collective knowledge of millennia. He liked it here. It was peaceful, a stark contrast to the constant drills and meditation sessions.
He had come to the Archive planning to train his mind, but instead, he found himself questioning more than learning. At a small corner desk, he stared at the glowing screen in front of him, scrolling through records. His focus lingered on one name—Revan. The records painted the legendary figure as both a Jedi and Sith, a brilliant tactician, and a cautionary tale.
Kieran smirked to himself. A cautionary tale? Sure, Revan made mistakes, but wasn’t that the point? Revan lived—truly lived. He fought wars, defied the Order, and embraced both light and dark. His life wasn’t some sterile, emotionless existence like the one the Jedi preached. It was messy, passionate, and full of purpose. Kieran couldn’t help but admire that.
He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. “What does balance even mean?” he muttered under his breath. The Jedi preached balance in the Force but acted like anything outside the light was forbidden. If the Force was truly about balance, why was the dark side treated like a disease instead of part of the whole?
“Kieran, you seem troubled.”
The voice startled him, and he quickly sat up. Standing nearby was Jocasta Nu, her gaze sharp but not unkind. She was the gatekeeper of the Archive, always watching to ensure the initiates treated its knowledge with respect.
“Just… studying, Master Nu,” he replied, bowing his head slightly.
Her eyes fell to the holopad in his hand. “Revan,” she said, her tone neutral but curious. “An ambitious figure. A hero to some, a villain to others. But above all, a reminder of the dangers of straying from the Jedi path.”
“Because he turned to the dark side?” Kieran asked.
“Partly,” she admitted, clasping her hands behind her back. “Revan believed he could master both sides of the Force. But such arrogance led to suffering—not just for himself, but for the galaxy.”
Kieran hesitated, then asked, “But isn’t balance about understanding both sides? How can we truly serve the Force if we refuse to understand half of it?”
Jocasta Nu tilted her head, her expression unreadable. “A dangerous perspective for such a young one, Kieran. Curiosity is natural, but tread carefully. The dark side is seductive, and even the best intentions can lead one astray.”
He nodded, though her answer left him unsatisfied. “I’ll be careful, Master Nu.”
She studied him for a moment longer before nodding. “See that you are.” With that, she turned and disappeared down the endless aisles, leaving Kieran alone once more.
He sighed, glancing back at the holopad. Revan’s story wasn’t just a cautionary tale; it was proof that there was more to the Force than the Jedi wanted to admit. If the Jedi couldn’t—or wouldn’t—explore that truth, maybe he needed to find his own way.
Switching topics, he pulled up records on lightsaber combat. Makashi caught his attention again. The elegance of the second form appealed to him, especially after watching Master Dooku spar. Then there was Ataru, the acrobatic form that matched his speed, and Djem So, a style he admired for its raw power. He could already imagine blending them into his own unique style.
But holopads only went so far. Training properly would require guidance—something he doubted the Jedi would provide for his ambitions. But that was for the future. The Jedi didn't know his ambitions yet. He would learn as much as he could in these few years.
Leaving the Archive, he walked towards the sparring chamber. Along the way, he passed Master Qui-Gon Jinn. A surge of instinct—no, something more—rushed through him.
“Master Jinn,” Kieran called, his tone cryptic. “I had a dream. A warrior with a double-bladed red saber. You were fighting him… and you didn’t survive.”
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Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow, his calm demeanor unshaken. “Dreams of the future, you say? Curious.”
“Be careful, Master Jinn,” Kieran said softly.
Qui-Gon’s gaze lingered before he nodded. “Thank you for the warning, young Jedi. What's your name?”
"I'm Initiate Kieran, Master Jinn."
He raised an eyebrow, "Oh, the one that appeared in the council chamber?" Kieran nodded. "Well, Kieran, I'll be careful. Thank you for the warning."
With that, Kieran continued on his way, entering the sparring chamber. He grabbed his training saber and took his stance, imagining Dooku’s elegant strikes.
“Alright,” he muttered, looking at Zyn and his other sparring partner, a determined young woman named Lyra Kael. “Let’s try something new.” They had been working together to try to beat Kieran after his recent progress with Shii-Cho. Still, he suspected they might land a hit or two on him, especially since he planned on experimenting with Makashi.
Kieran took a deep breath, centering himself as the training chamber hummed with quiet activity. Around him, other initiates practiced with their training sabers, the sound of clashing blades echoing faintly in the air. It was peaceful in its own way, but Kieran’s focus was entirely on his two sparring partners.
Zyn stood to his left, his stance wide and solid, a textbook example of Shii-Cho. Lyra Kael was to his right, her grip on her training saber tight but controlled. She had a fire in her eyes that Kieran had come to admire—and respect. She didn’t hesitate, and her strikes always carried a determination that made her one of the more formidable initiates in their group. Especially since she was around 2 years older and had more training.
“Two-on-one, huh?” Kieran asked, spinning his training saber once for effect. He smirked. “I hope you two are ready.”
Lyra narrowed her eyes, a slight grin tugging at her lips. “Don’t get cocky, Kieran. You’re good, but you’re not that good.”
“She’s right,” Zyn added with a nod. “We’ve been watching how you move. You’ve got patterns, you know.”
Kieran raised an eyebrow, his smirk deepening. “Oh, really? Well, by all means, try and exploit them.”
Lyra lunged first, her saber coming down in a sharp arc. Kieran sidestepped smoothly, raising his blade to deflect her strike with a crisp motion. Zyn followed immediately, aiming for Kieran’s exposed side. He pivoted, parrying Zyn’s attack with a sweeping motion that sent the taller boy stumbling back a step.
“Not bad,” Kieran said, his tone light but teasing. “But you’ll need to do better than that.”
They pressed him harder this time, working together in a coordinated assault. Lyra’s strikes were fast and relentless, forcing Kieran to stay on the defensive, while Zyn aimed for openings that never quite materialized. Kieran’s mind raced as he deflected, dodged, and countered, his instincts guiding him.
He shifted his stance subtly, adjusting from Shii-Cho to an approximation of Makashi. His movements became sharper, more deliberate, his strikes precise rather than sweeping. Lyra noticed the change immediately.
“What’s that?” she asked, her blade locking with his for a brief moment.
“Just experimenting,” Kieran replied with a grin, breaking the lock and sidestepping her next attack. "You like it?"
Zyn came at him from behind, but Kieran ducked under the swing, spinning around to catch the taller boy off guard. With a quick motion, he tapped Zyn’s wrist with his training saber, earning a yelp of surprise and forcing him to drop his weapon.
“One down,” Kieran said, stepping back as Zyn retreated, rubbing his wrist. “What’s next?”
Lyra didn’t waste a moment. She surged forward, her strikes coming faster, more aggressive. Kieran found himself pushed back, his defense just barely holding as she pressed him. He noticed that she was using a very poor approximation of Form V, which came as a surprise to him. He had not seen anyone fight with that Form in the temple before and was momentarily caught off-guard.
“Almost,” he said, deflecting a strike at the last second. But Lyra was quick, and she spun with the momentum, her blade coming around in a sweeping arc that forced Kieran to duck. He stepped back, trying to regain his footing, but she didn’t let up. With a flick of her wrist, Lyra’s saber came in low, aiming for his legs. Kieran barely managed to block it, and for a moment, he found himself off balance. Lyra capitalized immediately, lunging forward and landing a solid strike against his chest.
Kieran stumbled back, the sting of the training saber making him wince. He blinked, surprised, then started to laugh.
“Nice one,” he said, straightening up and saluting her with his saber. “I’ll give you that. That was a good fight. Especially at the end when you fight Form V, Djem So.”
“I’ve seen Master Plo Koon spar a few times. Picked up a thing or two. But I wasn’t sure it’d work on you.”
"Well, it did. Good job."
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Later that evening, Kieran returned to the dormitory to find a Jedi Knight waiting for him. The tall man wore traditional white robes, his posture formal but relaxed.
“Initiate Kieran,” the Knight said, inclining his head. “The High Council requests your presence. Immediately.”
Kieran blinked, his stomach twisting slightly. He had a sense of what this might be about, but the weight of being summoned directly by the Council was enough to make his palms sweat. He nodded, straightening his robes.
The Council Chamber was as grand and imposing as the first time Kieran had entered it. The twelve Jedi Masters sat in a circle, their expressions calm. Some of the Jedi Masters were in holograms, signifying that they were on missions. Grand Master Yoda, seated in his small hoverchair, regarded Kieran with a curious gaze.
“Welcome back, Initiate Kieran,” Mace Windu began, his tone measured. “Your progress in both the Force and lightsaber combat has not gone unnoticed.”
Kieran bowed respectfully, keeping his expression neutral despite the flicker of pride in his chest. “Thank you, Master Windu.”
Ki-Adi-Mundi leaned forward slightly, stroking his chin. “The speed at which you’ve adapted to the Jedi way is... extraordinary. And your connection to the Force is unlike any we’ve seen in, well, ever.”
Plo Koon nodded. “We believe it is time to take the next step in your training. The High Council has decided to forgo the Initiate Trials in your case.”
Kieran’s eyes widened slightly, though he quickly masked his surprise. “You mean... I’m to become a Padawan?”
Yoda’s ears perked up. “Correct, young one. Ready, you are. A Master, we have chosen for you.”
Kieran’s gaze flicked around the room, curiosity bubbling within him. The Masters exchanged subtle glances before Mace Windu continued.
“You will be apprenticed to Master Qui-Gon Jinn,” Windu announced.
He asked back in surprise, "I thought Jedi Masters can only have one padawan at a time?"
Windu nodded, "Normally, yes. But his padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi is nearing the end of his training and we have made an exception for you due to Master Qui-Gon Jinn's persuasions."
He’d only briefly spoken with the man earlier, but even from that brief encounter, he’d sensed Qui-Gon’s wisdom—and his unorthodox approach to the Jedi Code.
The chamber doors opened, and Qui-Gon Jinn entered, his tall frame exuding calm confidence. He inclined his head to the Council before turning his gaze to Kieran, a faint smile on his face.
“So,” Qui-Gon said, his voice warm but firm. “The young initiate who warned me of a dream steps forward once again. It seems we are destined to walk this path together.”
Kieran bowed deeply. “Master Jinn. It’s an honor.”
Qui-Gon approached, resting a hand lightly on Kieran’s shoulder. “The honor is mine, Kieran. The Force brought you to us for a reason. Together, we’ll uncover that reason and shape your future as a Jedi.”
Yoda nodded, his gaze serious but kind. “Trust in the Force, young Kieran. Many trials ahead, there will be. But promise, your potential holds. Guide you, your Master will.”
The Council dismissed them, and Qui-Gon led Kieran out of the chamber. As they walked through the quiet halls of the Temple, Kieran couldn’t help but ask, “Why me, Master? Why did the Council choose you to train me?”
Qui-Gon smiled faintly, his hands clasped behind his back. “Perhaps they see in me the ability to guide you in a way others cannot. Or perhaps it’s the Force’s will, and the Council is simply following its lead.”
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The next morning, in a quiet ceremony, Qui-Gon presented Kieran with the symbolic Jedi braid, marking his formal induction as a Padawan.
As the braid was clipped into his hair, Kieran felt... nothing. He realized there and then that he didn't care about the ceremony. Still, he acted proud. He felt bad deceiving his new teacher like this but he would do what he must. He had already planned on leaving the order when he reached 18 years of age. Before he left, he wanted to form connections within the order. The first two were Zyn and Lyra. Now, there was Qui-Gon Jinn. He sighed. He would make many more connections and attachments. He would make a strong attachment to Anakin and act as his brother, the role Obi-Wan was supposed to fulfill.
"You’ve taken your first steps into a larger world,” Qui-Gon said, his voice low but steady. “But remember, Kieran—being a Jedi is not about power or recognition. It is about service. To the galaxy, to the Force, and to those who cannot protect themselves.”
Kieran met his gaze before nodding, "I understand, Master."
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As Kieran stood on the Temple balcony that evening, gazing out at the sprawling cityscape of Coruscant. He knew the corruption and filth that lay beneath The Jewel of the Core Worlds. Still, he allowed peace to take over him. He made a few plans. Ever since he woke up, he was made aware of one thing he abhorred. Slavery. Slavery still existed, despite the Jedi existence. Clearly, the Jedi were failing, especially in the Outer Rim. He knew that the Jedi were, more or less, lapdogs of the republic now. He wanted to end slavery. Not just in the Outer Rim but also in the core worlds. He would take up the role the Jedi were supposed to take after he left. He would protect the sentient of the galaxy. He would be the shining beacon of hope. At least, that was his dream.
And he knew that to achieve it, he could not do it alone. He would need help. His first choices would be amongst others, Qui-Gon Jinn, Anakin Skywalker, Zyn, Lyra Kael, and Obi-Wan Kenobi. Maybe he could even pull in Jedi Master Dooku since he hadn't left the order yet. All of that would come later but he knew for sure. His future would not be an easy one and he was determined to get his dream.
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That night, he dreamt of a man in a mask. A mask he was very familiar with. The Legendary mask of Revan. He stood tall in the darkness, alone, with two lightsabers, a yellow lightsaber in his left hand and a purple lightsaber in the other. He saw several familiar faces appear behind him, but he couldn't remember who they were as his dream ended and he fell into deep sleep.