JEDI HoloNet

The beginnings of Ronja’s life could be considered a particularly nasty affair. Outlaw parents, a life they had sought to leave behind after one last big score. They had found themselves stranded in orbit of a planet they had hoped to escape, under the glare of an oppressive red moon.

They scuttled about their ship, desperately trying to make repairs, to escape their pursuers. All they needed were a few more minutes to get the hyperdrive back into working order, but those minutes were not granted to them. A few bangs along the hull of the ship, and they found themselves a drift, oxygen leaking out into the endless expanse of space. They could feel the ship being drawn, up, down, to its side? The view ports did not grant them view of the shiny blue jewel that was Ord Mantell but the ever approaching red moon. An ill omen, one could say.

The ship broke through the atmosphere at an alarming speeds, both were thrown about the hollow remnant of their vessel. The heat burned through the ship until it subsided, until there was only the sensation of falling. The ship fell, billowing smoke, fires roaring, and debris falling all around until it climaxed into a thunderous bang.

The father did not survive the impact, the mother managed to crawl from the wreckage after coming to. When her sight returned to her for the brief moment she lingered in the corporeal realm, she could scantly see the ship. It had fallen into Quantxi, the junk moon of Ord Mantell. It had landed into a trash heap, what was left of felt as if it belonged their, much like their endeavours on making a better life. In her final moments, Ronja’s mother saw two things… the bird-like creatures that hovered above her, and then the baby she clutched to her chest.

Ronja had been lifted from her mother’s arms, no ceremony given. Much like the rest of the moon, the ship and her parents were left to wither until found by the usual run-of-the-mill scavengers. Ronja from that moment forward found herself amongst a new family, an unlikely one, pardoned from a life that may have brought only turmoil and heart ache.

The bird-like creatures known as the Junk Mavens cared for the young Ronja, although, completely unprepared for a baby Chistori, especially on how to raise one. Trial and error every step of the way, it was fortunate that Ronja was incredibly resilient.

Growing up on Quantxi was a rather isolating affair; the people that cared for her were unlike her, their temperament different. Often quick and impulsive, Ronja was often considered unruly, vicious to some extents. There was always some sort of trouble surrounding her, whether it was running off into the junk or near-hostile encounters with the trash keepers that found themselves close to this particular community of Junk Maven’s.

Their continued attempts to raise the child became increasingly difficult as she grew in size, her temperament ever more aggressive. Fear grew among them the community that they could not keep the child for long, for they feared for their own safety. Ronja was unsettled, perhaps by the locale or the fact there was little feeling of belonging among the Junk Mavens.

They were wary of establishing contact with Ord Mantell, on the basis that it wasn’t very often that ships fell from the sky – at least those littered with blaster marks along their hull. Instead, they opted to go about it differently. They made a call to a group that they often forgo’d contact with, usually with the hope of avoiding trouble.

After several rotations a ship would arrive, guests of the community, or so Ronja was led to believe. Two people left the ship, one slightly taller, older… rugged even compared to their shorter, more youthful counterpart. Ronja had taken it upon herself to keep her distance, out of sight as she stalked around them. Something felt different about them, something welcoming yet imposing. It felt as if there was a thread there, a connection of sorts, something that wanted to pull her in, much like the moon had once done several years ago.

Distance was kept but words still heard, Ronja listened to these “guests” as they spoke. They spoke of a child, her, presumably. The Junk Maven’s concerns – a pang of betrayal felt in her chest. The option of taking the child away – A threat. It all happened very quickly, like a reek in an antique store, Ronja had rushed and clawed her way through the junk, leaping upon the youngest of the guests. Her jaw snapped inches from his face, her clawed digits around his neck.

What came next was a sort of weightlessness, the young man freed from her grasp, all she could see was his frightened eyes. Words were spoken to calm the young man then a few more were said, this time towards her. They lulled her into calm, for the first time in a long time, she felt as light as feather, almost like how she imagined the Junk Mavens felt.

She didn’t know what had happened, or why she felt this way, in fact, she didn’t even wonder to think about that in general. It was like a warm blanket had been finally wrapped around her. Ronja was given time to cool down, the two guests remained silent for this duration. The more frightful fellow regained his composure, the other simply watched and observed her.

Master Yulen, Padawan Learner Fanari. These were the titles and names given. Neither held much meaning to Ronja, nor did the word ‘Jedi’ when they described who and what they were. They simply asked questions, and very little was said in return. She didn’t really know how she came to be on Quantxi, the Junk Mavens kept her origins relatively secret from her. Ronja simply knew this place as her home, the place that it had always been for as long as she could remember.

While very few answers were given, the insistent nature of the Junk Maven’s had made it clear to the Jedi that Quantxi was no home for Ronja. They proceeded to follow with the basic tests any potential hopeful were expected to have. A test of intuition was given, something Ronja seemingly passed with little fanfair on her end of it. She simply followed her gut.

The two Jedi withdrew after the test. Ronja followed, naturally. She had hoped to have been out of sight, little did she know of the Jedi and their abilities. For a time they spoke freely, the Padawan shared his concerns, she watched as he caressed his neck. The Master maintained this appearance of calm, almost serene. He spoke gently on all matters, she wondered if he was any tougher than his student. The conversation slowed until there was silence, then she was called.

She was informed of three paths ahead of her; both would have her leaving with the Jedi. Ronja could return with them to their satellite training facility on Bacrana, be taken to Ord Mantell and handed over to the appropriate department for orphaned children, or join one of the several corps of the Jedi.

Ronja was quick and decisive in her decision making, impulsive, perhaps a bit too impulsive. She wanted far from this place, and so she found herself destined for the stars, to Bacrana.

The journey to Bacrana was less ideal than the Jedi had hoped for. Something about the ship stirred something inside of Ronja, an ill sense of dread. They would find her hidden away, and when approached often hostile and aggressive. Less of the physical hostility that Fanari had first been welcomed with, more akin to snapping, snarling, and a few nasty words.

Bacrana couldn’t have come into sight soon enough. Once the ship broke through atmosphere and the three found themselves on solid earth once more, Ronja’s demeanor lightened. Albeit, she remained on edge, there was something in the air she couldn’t quite put her claw on. She was welcomed into the facility, others closer to her in age seemed hopeful – a feeling she did not share.

It took time to adjust, she often chose to isolate, and when others approached she made certain they thought twice about it. Eventually she would open up, often with the encouragement of Master Yulen, maintaining his soft demeanor. Eventually, she would open up to the others, at brief intervals. Some were allowed closer than others. Ronja’s reluctance waned, and in time, she found herself partaking in the odd activity, until she was almost present in all. She was often quiet, at times, aloof even but ever attentive.

Ronja would eventually be initiated into the Order, and took her first steps to becoming a Jedi Knight. There were no easy first steps, there was a lot of tumbling along the way. The peace and serenity that others felt, that seemed so natural to them, felt alien to Ronja. Something stirred in her, something that wouldn’t let her rest. When others displayed patience, she was often quick to get to the end of whatever it was she was doing. She was forceful in her lightsaber drills, sparring often became competitive, a moment to prove her strength and ferocity. All things that would eventually be worked on over time, with many reprimands and lessons. There were times of doubt, and times of hope. Ronja remained persistent.

It felt as if this journey was taking longer for than others, many were seemingly being as Padawans or passing their trials. Often she was told to take her time, it will happen when it is willed. Ronja tried to find comfort in such sentiments but it almost felt if she was being worn down, left behind. Master Yulen, persistent as ever, continued to tutor until one day she was taken to prove herself for her trials. She failed her first attempt. It was no easy thing to prove she could embody all the traits expected of a Padawan. She had grown frustrated, dejected, she wonders if this was even meant for her.

These times were difficult, she isolated herself for a time. She did not feel she could face her peers, though, it was those said peers that came to her, and lifted her. They encouraged to her keep on going, to keeping pushing forward. Ronja stayed true to the path, and when the second trial came about, she passed.

The wave of relief she felt was followed by a new sense of dread; while she had not been chosen to be someones student, she was informed of new opportunities. The Duneeden Temple was seeking to bolster its numbers once more, hoping to revitalize its halls with new and gifted learners. Ronja felt apprehensive about leaving. Finally feeling she had felt comfort in growing close to those around her, people she had known for years – almost having begun to see them as family. It was with Master Yulen’s encouragement that she committed to accepting this new opportunity, that not many opportunities like this occur.

The trust placed in Master Yulen was not unnoticed, many saw he had a way of speaking to Ronja. Perhaps this was one of the reasons this was the wisest option she had. Ronja departed from Bacrana, reluctantly, leaving all she knew with the promise of tomorrow and rolling purple fields.