Star Wars, The Cooper Chronicle's, Book 1: The Rise

Chapter 7: Training

Obi-wan: No, no, you do not. You remind me much of your father.

Jerome: Oh...my father. If I may, what was he like before he left the order?

He said, spite sinking into the back of his words. Obi-wan frowned as the two boarded the LAAT. The craft took off once the doors sealed shut, giving the Jedi time to respond about the young man's father.

Obi-wan: Besides the resemblance in attitude and visage, your father was adamantly against the tenets of the Jedi order. Valian would often go off on how we were too tired to the senate, that shutting off our emotions only made the temptation of the Darkside worse, and that teachings of the old republic were being misinterpreted. His master had to real him in on many occasions.

Jerome: Huh, well, I can see why, but is that reason he left? Did he just up and disappear one day?

He asked sternly before his expression softened upon seeing sudden pain flash in his master's eyes. The older man shook his head before looking at his appearance with a sorrowful smile.

Obi-Wan: No, despite his grievances, your father was an avid man of the people. Making connections wherever he went, his master and him were two of the best diplomats in the order at the time. However, during their last assignment, a fight broke out among the people of some backwater world I can't remember the name of. When the two did not respond to our hails, master Po-Kun was sent to investigate. He found the grave of your father's master and a recording. Come, I'll show you.

He said once the bay doors opened and the two exited the craft. Making their way through the halls of the Jedi temple, Jerome let his mind wander back to his younger days. Everything he remembered of his father lay buried in years of loathing, to be left behind, all except R4 and Max. But, as he remembered the older gentlemen, a pit formed in his gut. Memories of his grave formed at the front of Jerome's mind.

Jerome: Now that he's gone, R4's the only one left. Everything else now has been thrust onto me.

He thought, Jerome's knuckles turning white as he followed Obi-wan into the library. Walls upon walls of strange cube-like devices sat upon shelves, massive data banks laid among them that reached the ceiling, but the two did not stop till they reached the back corner. Settling down, Obi-wan opened up a hologram, slowly moving through the mountain of files that he scrolled by. His apprentice sat beside him, watching as he stopped and opened an audio file.

Obi-wan: Until we found you, this was our last known notion the council had that your father was alive.

He said before playing the file. The hologram shifted from the thin page of files to Jerome sitting in a chair if he didn't know any better. His father at the time must have been no older than his son was now as he spoke, his voice horse as the faintest of tear lines could be seen on his face.

Valian: To anyone of the Jedi order that finds this message and for the sake of the record, I am Valian Cooper, Jedi Padawan of master Jagiti Moldova. Well, former Padawan, my master...he's dead. I know what I'm about to say is insane, but the Sith has returned. They attacked us after we dealt with a band of highly organized pirates we had been investigating for years. After we dispatched them, the two Sith appeared with blades of crimson red. I-I don't know what species, one of them had these red and black tattoos and horns, but the other was a girl at least a year or two younger than me.

He said before taking a pause, and it looked like he would start crying again, his hands gripping onto the same lightsaber hilt that hung from Jerome's belt. All of this left the young man wide-eyed as the recording continued.

Valian: We both got separated, fighting these Sith in different parts of the complex. I was able to fight off the one; she got away, but by the time I found my master, he was gone. I leave this message here as a black box for those who find it, for I will not return to the order. I can feel the tides of the forces changing, something is coming, and I am best suited to hunting down my masters' killers or at least being bait to throw off their plans. A darkness is growing over the galaxy, but the balance will prevail. May the force be with me and with whoever finds this recording.