The place where children were left was filled with those very children. They played, had fun, and laughed, running back and forth. Several caretakers and older children, who occasionally glanced at the little ones, watched over everything. The weather on Tustra was wonderful; a light breeze gently and softly swayed the green grass. The sun was pleasantly warm and relaxing... Contrary to all other heroes, I didn't immediately go to introduce myself to everyone, even though they had introduced me as the new kid. I stepped into the shade under a tree and sat on the ground, hugging my knees. I don't like being in places crowded with children... Plus, I have things to think about... Right now, I estimate that I was born sometime between one hundred years before the Battle of Yavin and seventy years before that same battle.
To be honest, I don't know exactly what year it is. The timeline in canon is always measured from the Battle of Yavin IV, where Luke Skywalker sent the First Death Star into the history books. It's still far off, that I understood for sure... Because Sheev Palpatine hasn't even been heard of yet, not even as a Senator from Naboo. How far have I been thrown from the canon events? I need to understand... I don't want to participate in this meat grinder; I've never even killed a person. I didn't even serve in the army. Why would I want all this? Even as a Jedi, I would want to be a peacekeeper, not a warrior like Anakin... On the other hand, will I be allowed to choose such a path?
I have fourteen thousand midi-chlorians. More precisely, fourteen thousand one hundred and thirty... But the main thing is that this is an abnormally high count; potentially, I am not inferior to many masters on the Council... And that's a fact; my Force potential is enormous. But do I want that? The "Celestial River" Galaxy never asked its inhabitants if they wanted something specific or not. It never cared about that... So what should I do in the end? They'll definitely make me a Jedi; I need to develop a plan. I have immense Force potential, so I'll need to develop Force techniques. Among lightsaber combat forms, Soresu appeals to me the most.
Soresu, also known as Form III. The essence of this form is defense and fighting through attrition. I have a lot of stamina, so I can fight for a long time and maintain my defense. Soresu is an ideal choice for defense... And attack? Do I need it? Why take unnecessary risks; better to defend. Even Anakin almost died against this form — Obi-Wan cut off all his limbs and could have finished him off easily. And Grievous was also defeated by Soresu... So, it's decided. I don't want to fight, I don't want to kill... But I also want to live, so I need skills, at minimum, one way or another. As for Force techniques, I should divide them into those I can definitely try right now and those I'd better master under a teacher's supervision.
"You're Light, right?" A girl interrupted my thoughts.
Probably my age. I'm not good at determining the age of those around me, and with girls, it's better to just assume and think for a long time rather than give the wrong answer. The girl looked like a classic Sephi. Unlike me and the Flyingstar line, which retained some human traits — since my family originated from humans — the girl already had long, slender fingers on her hands. And even in the group, even among those I could consider my peers, I was the shortest. The girl towered over me by half a head. Her black hair was neatly styled into a standard Sephi hairstyle — specifically, swirls. That's a whole other topic; in short: Sephi believe in the divine nature of wind and that wind carries grace. It seemed foolish to me, but there are many ritual greetings and farewells related to the wind. Some historical sites claim that the Sephi once even had their own language, quite light... Like the wind.
"I'm Rivi. Nice to meet you. Are you the son of Lady Flyingstar?"
I nodded, looking the girl over. It's too early to say anything about her yet. She's clearly no older than me, so I can't offer any assessment of Rivi. Maybe I should just treat her like a child? No... I have to act like a child myself. I am a child, after all...
"I am Light Flyingstar," I introduced myself. "Nice to meet you, Rivi."
"Light?" asked a chubby boy, brazenly barging into the conversation. "I'm Rozri Mirall! My father hates that freak of a father of yours, half-breed..."
Right off the bat? Well no, they're children, prisoners of their parents' opinions.
"Speaking of which," another child began. "He's the Head Maid's son, right? Does that mean he'll make a great butler or servant?" This boy was thin... I'd even say scrawny.
"I've got it!" Rozri smiled. "You'll serve us. You're a servant's son."
Serve again? An almost identical scene flashed before my eyes... First, the "parents" in the first world. In the distant "Milky Way" galaxy. Then the orphanage... Even in university and at work, I was still being pushed around. Should I have to endure this... No, stop... Why not do something different? After all, it would be easy to follow the beaten path again, easy to become a servant again so they'd leave me alone. But I would regret it later... Rivi had already opened her mouth to say something.
"You're the son of a hangar technician," I said calmly, trying to look Rozri in the eye, maintaining eye contact and speaking in a steady voice. "Why should the son of one servant serve the son of another servant? Or did you suddenly become an illegitimate son of someone in His Majesty's Family?"
Bastards are not held in high regard in Sephi aristocratic society. It's evidence not only of a spouse's infidelity but also of "animal nature." And Sephi are quite arrogant. This answer could even be considered an insult... But Rozri insulted me too, didn't he? Why should I owe him anything? The hatred this boy generates towards me was instilled by his father. Ronim Mirall doesn't like that the woman he was in love with... or is still in love with, became my mother, but most importantly, became my father's wife. Why? Because you clearly can't force the heart. Mayla knew that perfectly well...
"BASTARD!" the chubby boy growled. "You're no better than a bastard yourself!"
In fact, the marriage between my mother and father is matrilineal. Only girls and women can be maids — at least, those are the rules established by some King who knows who, a couple of millennia ago... They say he had a hundred maids, each of whom he elevated to nobility and fathered almost a thousand bastards... He made the position of maid hereditary, and only a girl with a specific surname can inherit it. In other words, I bear the surname "Flyingstar" only because I don't "have the right to inherit the surname Jori," which all females carry... Mother carries the surname Flyingstar because it's more convenient for her... Probably... I don't want to ask; let it be that way. Even though my grandmother doesn't like it.
"Get him, guys!" he yelled.
Yeah, children are terrible creatures, no matter how you look at it. Though it's better when a child runs out of arguments. Their fights aren't as large-scale as adult wars. Rivi, by the way, decided to take my side, but was immediately knocked down by some girl. I targeted Rozri and gave him a nice shiner, right on the eye. But I got hit too, first by Rozri — and he hit pretty hard. In childhood, chubby kids always have an advantage in a fight; later, the weight argument disappears. Everything started swimming before my eyes, and I fell onto the grass. "Is this what you wanted?" I heard a mocking voice. "If you had just submitted... Like always..."
Submit? No... I have to become better... Think... Right! That idiot insulted my mother, calling her just a servant. Yes... And that's not the "Mommy" I had from the very beginning. No, I won't call her that anymore. My mother is Mayla Flyingstar. So yes... With fury, I got up and tried to punch my opponent in the face, but then I was doubled over in pain. I got hit in the stomach by a guy standing to the side. He kicked me, and I crashed to the ground again. And that was a mistake. Blains rained down on me from above. They were kicking me... Very young children. I tried to protect my face...
"That's enough!" a voice thundered. The children were pulled away. "What do you think you're doing, Rozri!"
The salty taste of blood filled my mouth; I could barely feel my face. My nose was definitely broken; I could barely see with my right eye... But I didn't back down in the face of danger.
"He started it!" Rozri wailed. "I... Navi, I'm telling the truth. He insulted me!"
"Is that true?" the same voice asked. I lifted my head and looked at the older one. He was a fully formed, slender man with black hair tied into classic Sephi swirls. His clothes looked rich and pompous, unlike the simpler versions worn by the other children.
"No," I croaked. "He insulted my mother and me... KHA," I spat out blood. "He wanted me to be his servant."
"But you are indeed a servant's son," Navi said thoughtfully. "And you should serve... After all, your mother is Mayla Jori-Flyingstar, right?"
"But... Navi," I croaked.
"Address me as 'His Highness Navi,' as should you, Rozri. I am the nephew of your King and cannot allow children to speak to me as an equal... So, what did you want to say, boy?"
"If I, a descendant of His Majesty's servant... Kha... serve anyone other than His Majesty's family, wouldn't that be treason to His Majesty King Alaric's family?" I looked at the man, praying this would work. He's a classic aristocrat, believes in his own exclusivity. And if that exclusivity is challenged...
"I see," Navi hissed, turning to Rozri. "Rozri, my patience is exhausted; the great Winds see, you deserve punishment."
"But Navi!"
"'His Highness Navi'!" the man said, hitting the Chief Technician's son on the head. "I will have a word with your father. Perhaps he will show you your place afterward. As for you... Call a med-droid for him, let them patch you up... Though the teeth," he looked contemptuously at the two knocked-out teeth, "you don't have to replace; they were supposed to fall out anyway," he let out a disgusting laugh at his own joke and left.
Rozri's group glared at me angrily...
"You're pretty tough," Rivi's voice came through. "You stood up to Rozri." I looked the girl over. She'd clearly had a tuft of hair torn out, and a couple of scratches had appeared on her face. "Looks like I'll have to visit the med-droid too. That Rozri has been annoying everyone for ages, Light. But I want to warn you: be careful with Navi. He's the King's nephew and much more dangerous than all of them put together. He locks himself in the closet with our caretaker and does... things with her... She walks around all strange afterward."
I'm only about five years old. But I perfectly understand what Navi might be doing to Erla in the closet. I suppose it's too early to explain that to Rivi. As well as why Erla might not like it... Though I'm sure Navi is the type who would definitely say: you enjoy it yourselves, you females. So why be shy?
"What happened?" Erla flew over to us, examining our battered faces.
"Rozri," Rivi replied simply. "He started picking on Light, then started a fight. Navi came and broke it up."
"His Highness Navi," Erla corrected her. "Either way, it doesn't matter. You need to go to the infirmary... Light, first day and already a fight..."
"Rozri started it," I repeated Rivi's words. "He started messing with me, then insulted my mom."
"I'll have a serious talk with him," Erla promised. "Now — off to the infirmary. You need patching up, preferably before your parents come back for you after work. I'd rather not have problems from that side too." She heaved a heavy sigh.
Talking with Rivi turned out to be unexpectedly interesting. She was clearly much more confident than me and most of the other kids. And when she found out I was gifted, she immediately asked for a demonstration. Even though Grandma had told me not to show off, I couldn't resist that gaze burning with sincere, childish curiosity — for all my grown-up consciousness and desire not to. The telekinesis trick, where I lifted pebbles above my head, came in handy. To be honest, even that trick was pretty difficult. You can't just say: there's no weight, only limitations in the mind. Well, you can say it, but... saying is one thing, realizing and applying it is another. Alas, I told myself the same thing during telekinesis practice — that there's no weight, that all the barriers are only in my head... But I still couldn't manage anything more than two pebbles in the air. Of course, to the non-gifted that seemed like a great result... If only they knew that Master Yoda could lift a Starfighter with the Force, and Galen Marek had brought down an entire Star Destroyer on a planet... Even though there are no Star Destroyers right now, I'd still be wary just because of what that class is called.
Anyway, long after that notable event — getting to know Navi, and especially Rozri — I started gaining fans. I became popular, largely thanks to my giftedness. Adults can say, "So he's a future Jedi, big deal." But kids didn't say that. They were fascinated by the Force, an ability that let me do things they fundamentally couldn't... And yes, there's anti-gravity technology, starships, engines that let pilots travel between stars. But that was achieved through tech and engineering, which kids don't always understand. But here was Light Flyingstar raising his hand and pebbles started flying on their own.
Meanwhile, separately from everyone at home, I started trying to enhance my body with the Force. Now that was an experiment that would help in the future... Improved speed, reflexes, striking power. And it was incredibly difficult, and also painful. The first training session nearly put me in a coma. My mother's scolding put an end to that experiment. Then I realized my mistake. My body wasn't ready... The muscles simply weren't there — nothing was right, fundamentally. No matter how much I exercised, I was growing up in a hothouse environment, which doesn't predispose you to having a sufficiently developed body. The Force simply enhanced me too much, and I ended up hurting myself.
The second experiment didn't help much either. I tried to concentrate and set up some kind of limiter... That's one way to put it. But, as always, it was easy to say and hard to do... I absolutely couldn't control the Force that finely. Yes, the potential was incredible, but the control was zero. That was what I needed to learn first. For a few seconds I even felt like first-season Naruto — an incredible chakra reactor in his gut and absolutely no ability to use it properly. All Naruto managed later were academy techniques, plus the Multiple Shadow Clone Technique, and then he learned the Rasen Shuriken. All I could manage was lifting a few pebbles in the air... And I definitely didn't know any control exercises. Search on Google? Deliberately look for it on the HoloNet? Sure, the Jedi might be ever-so-kind guardians of the peace. But they wouldn't post their techniques and methods in open access, would they? Of course not... The only things I found were holovideos of some Jedi at work. One Jedi, demonstrating miracles of reflexes and speed, wiped out an entire gang shooting at him with blasters. Another shoved someone with telekinesis... The only official thing I found was a book by some Mandalorian teaching how to handle a lightsaber... Though those movements seemed kind of strange — the Jedi were clearly freer.
What else did I remember from the real Star Wars universe? I just hoped I'd ended up in Legends — the Disney canon was complete garbage. Some things were tolerable, but the rest — no. Rei was an overpowered Mary Sue, Kylo Ren, Han's son, was just a drama queen with permanent PMS... Even to me, not the most confident person, Kylo seemed like total crap. And that's not even mentioning the others.
As for techniques... Combat precognition would definitely be useful for me as a future Soresu practitioner. Yes... I was definitely going to master Soresu as my base form. Tutaminis — energy absorption. Crucitorn? Pain negation... Yeah, that would come in handy. I wished I could do what Satele Shan did — she absorbed the energy of Darth Malgus's lightsaber. There were many other techniques out there, but I should focus on what would help protect me... Why was I so set on being ready for combat? Simply because one night I realized I probably wouldn't be pushed aside, even if I went into the Service Corps myself. My potential was incredible. No, I wasn't Anakin with his twenty thousand, and certainly not Arca Jeth with his fifty thousand. But I had strong potential and I had to use my power if I wanted to survive. After all that I could think about where to hide, how to protect my loved ones. But before that, I should use every opportunity to get stronger. That's why I'd been studying the Force however I could.
Too bad I wasn't enough of a nerd to remember the Jedi codes — apparently they were used for meditation... Probably something like self-hypnosis. For now I just tried to meditate, sitting cross-legged and feeling for my connection to the Force. Why was it relatively easy for me at age five? Again — talent and... I knew what to look for. I'd roughly memorized the feeling of using the Force right away. As a result, the Force itself responded to my call during meditation. During one such meditation, I even figured out what year I was living in... Fifty-six years before the Battle of Yavin IV. The answer just came to me during meditation. If only I could get answers to anything that way... But no, as I understood it, the Force's answer was a random ability and only possible when you were trying to find it yourself, drawing the Force into your search. That's what I was doing, for instance — trying to synchronize dates.
I searched for famous, well-known figures. I even calculated when Yoda became a knight. Apparently the Jedi Knight lists were updated on the site. And it was done cleverly — just a name and the year from the Ruusan Reformation. No photo... But that was enough for me. I started thinking hard, and during one of those meditations, my mind literally caught the wind. I think you could achieve a similar state after a drink or two. But I got it through meditation. And in my head, an image burned clearly: fifty-six... I immediately assumed it was years before the Battle of Yavin IV. There was even less time left until the Clone Wars... And before that came a couple more conflicts I could definitely become part of. Or die in. But no! I didn't want to die... Angry at myself for even relaxing lately — Rozri wasn't bothering me, Rivi and her gang of five other kids just asked me to show Force tricks, which objectively was my practice. I started training my body hard.
Alas, I wasn't a biologist and certainly not a bodybuilder... But looking up guides and asking Mom for money to buy a book on physical education for our race didn't hurt. I started getting gradually stronger. The most important thing was to prepare my body for the coming disasters... This universe doesn't let anyone with above-average midi-chlorians live in peace. And it didn't matter what I'd eventually become — if I didn't train and learn, I'd die again. Endure that pain again, regret again that I should have just gotten stronger and become better... No! I'd rather try to live as long as possible. And for that, I needed to get stronger now, not "someday later"!