“The light trained me to serve. The Order commands me to protect. And the Force wills me to fight.”
~An introduction of sorts...
Salutations. I am Chester Ducere, a Councilor of the venerable Jedi Order. At some point in time, I think every sentient in the galaxy stops and wonders, 'why am I here?'. Unlike most sentient beings, I have figured out the answer to this philosophical dilemma. I can no doubt thank the Force for its guidance in aiding me in my mental ventures and meditative wrestling with this question. After several decades of analyzing life across the galaxy on various sojourns and business ventures, I believe the answer is simpler than some would like us to believe. Now, I could not possibly expect you to accept my findings without hearing my credentials, so I dare say I should start at the beginning. After all, would you trust the advice of a stranger, albeit a dashing, intelligent, and respectable one?
~Origins
My beginnings are quite humble compared to many of my famous -or notorious- contemporaries. I was born to a small family of agriculturalists on the verdant planet of Kluistar. Most have not heard of the planet itself, much less visited it. Kluistar is a petite, quiant world in the Colonies, and it is almost entirely covered with thick, hearty woodlands, verdant rolling hills, or bubbling, crystalline rivers. The population consists almost entirely of agrarian workers, bovine ranchers, or anglers. It really is not what you would consider enthralling or grandiose, but I suppose it would make a place to spend your furlough.
I digress. I was born a few decades before the Alsakan Crisis began, in the last era of galactic tranquility. It is quite a shame I did not get to live during that age of peace. The Jedi always seem to do more beneficial things during peacetime. But maybe I'm just worried that I will not participate enough in the coming trials. Whatever my reasons for wanting to live prior to my birthing, I am afraid it is just not possible.
My family was considerably poor, although we managed to survive from day to day. My older brother, Sykian, was nine years older than I. He helped around the farm while I stayed indoors and explored the wild world that was my nursery. I think he might have been jealous of me. I got more attention than he did, probably because I was younger, and I did not have to do the menial labor that he was accustomed to. When I was young, we did not cooperate or play in a civil manner. He would tease me, pull jokes and pranks on me, and be a general ruffian. I, in turn, would break his things, hide his tools, and mess up his quarters. I believe it was a fair trade off.
As we got older, Sykian's attitude toward me mellowed, as did mine. Although I was still a juvenile scoundrel, like all preadolescent children, I treated him much more courteously than I did as a toddler. It was around this time, if my memory serves, that he became a bit more aloof. He would spend hours upon hours locked in his quarters, and -despite my pleads and obnoxiously rapping on his door- he would never let me inside. It was too bad. Even though I would eventually discover what he was working on for all those years, I do not think that I ever spent so much time thinking about a single thing consistently since those days. Well, except for the question about our existence, which I shall address shortly.
Sykian had always been a staunch supporter of Republican ideals. He had a poster in his quarters that read 'liberty, justice, freedom', or something to that effect. My recollection of some of these events are a bit dodgy. In any case, Sykian had never quite enjoyed the life of a farmboy. Maybe it was his burning, youthful desire to see new places, his attempt to find his own purpose, or maybe he was just tired of the monotony that pulling up weeds year after year brought. When he turned twenty-four, he signed up to join the naval forces of the Republic. The farewell was short but emotional. Mother cried and cried on his broad shoulders, asking him to reconsidering -she hated the idea of her boys fighting amongst the stars- but he assured her that no harm would come to him. There were not any threats to Republic peace when he joined. Father sent him off with a sturdy handshake, a quick embrace, and a few words of encouragement. If I recall, I barely managed to mumble a sloppy, childish 'bye-bye' before I started crying. Back then, I did not know why I was crying, but I let the tears stream down my alabaster cheeks anyway.
It was then that Sykian gave me a single leaden key and a datapad. Scratching my head with his fingers and patting me on the shoulder, Sykian bid his final farewell to me. I will always remember that goodbye. I stood outside longer than my father and mother, occasionally shouting a farewell to Sykian as he walked away from the farm and into the distant unknown that was the horizon. It was not until supper that I reluctantly entered my parent's house again, and by then Sykian had long gone.
The next day, I had activated the enigmatic datapad, curious as to what information it held. To my surprise, it held the location of all of Sykian's material possessions, his 'vault', as he called it. The datapad lead me to his room, and, using the leaden key he had given me, I entered. I opened the iron box that I had found inside at the behest of the instructions on the datapad, and I was instantly enraptured by the sheer amount of information within. Notes, theories, childhood toys, wooden carvings, and a vast sum of credits were located within. At the time, I was unsure what to do with it all. Of course I read everything he had written, which, I presumed, was what he was working on all those long hours behind close doors, and absorbed the knowledge within. Pages upon pages of data, both objective and personal, subjective and philosophical, that really let me into the mind of my older brother. After spending two years reading, reviewing, and revising his studies and writings, I felt like I knew my brother better than I ever had when he was with me.
~Into the galaxy
Then that day came. I do not remember the specifics; I had tried to repress my recollection of that day deep within me. Sadly, as an adolescent child, that did not quite work. Those of young adulthood seem to have such vivid memories, and even now I remember things that I knew then. Regardless of the status of my recollection, I shall try to recount the details of that day to the best of my ability.
A Jedi Knight came to our doorstep one day. My mother had been out in the fields and my father had been cooking, so he let the Jedi inside. He was a fellow of titanic proportions; my memories are telling me that he was a Human, but that was simply not possible. He was bald on the roof of his head, and he had pale-blue skin. When I saw him for the first time, which was not long after my father had invited him in, I was worried that he could tear me in half with just one of his well-defined, muscular arms. He invited both my mother and I into the atrium of our house. I could tell that my father and mother were worried. Now I know why. They would never send a Jedi Knight to a agrarian Colonies world to have tea.
He informed us of Sykian's death. At the hands of the Alsakans, he told us. He noted that my brother had died heroically, using the last of his missiles to disable an enemy craft so it could not kill more of his allies. My mother cried longer than any other time, and my father sat there in stony silence, consoling her with soft words and a gentle touch. As for myself, I do not recall what my initial reaction was, but I remember quite vividly -which is saying something about a day that I have struggled to forget- what my later reaction was. Hate. I hated these Alsakans, and I did not even know who they were. As an adolescent with vigorous youthfulness, I did not quite grasp the full measure of hurt that my father and mother were in, but I did understand that the Alsakans had taken away my brother, and that I would never get to see him again. Never to discuss his findings, never to share my additions to his ideas, never to brawl like fools.
The Jedi Knight tried his best to empathize with us, but there was something that prevented him from doing so to the extent that he wanted to. A serenity. A peaceful nature inside of him. When I inquired to him about this aura of tranquility that he possessed, the Jedi realized that I was a Force-sensitive. This revelation startled me half-to-death and I think it practically killed my mother. She realized that if I was Force-sensitive, I was going to be spirited away with the Jedi and taken away, never to be seen again.
At first, I was hesitant. How could I be Force-sensitive when no one in my immediate family possessed an affinity to the Force? And what's more, why would I want to join the Jedi Order anyway? The Jedi Knight easily persuaded my parents -or, my father, anyway- that it would be best if I received proper training in the hands of a Jedi on Ossus. Although both my parents were reluctant to give me up, they were eventually able to see the point of view of the brusque Jedi Knight. I was told not to gather my things and not to take anything with me; where I was going, I would need nothing but the clothes in my possession and the dormant Force potential that lay within me.
And so I left Kluistar. It was a tragic departure, but I vowed to return. It mirrored Sykian's final goodbye in such a manner that I was worried that I would die before I could return.
~First steps
Ossus. The heart and soul of the Jedi Order. Even as it becomes overshadowed by the equally beautiful temple on Coruscant, the comparatively small monastery at Ossus will always hold a place near to my heart. When I first arrived with the hulking Jedi Knight who visited my family on Kluistar, I was taken aback by the natural beauty and vibrant atmosphere of the temple and the entire world. Ossus was like my homeworld, yet it lacked the agrarian society and replaced it with something much better. The serenity I felt upon touching down on the planet for the first time is something that I will never feel again in this galaxy. That peace helped me to accept the death of my brother. I still wanted revenge, but my otherwise raging emotions were able to subside at that moment.
As I was granted peace, the Jedi Order was thrown into a tumultuous and chaotic series of events that cannot be undone. When I had been with the Jedi at Ossus, then-Jedi Grandmaster Banik Kelrada had called what could be the most infamous conclave of Jedi in our generation. I have since learned that it was, in fact, Sarina Lightell who was primarily responsible for the rift in our venerable Order. However, at the time, many, if not all, the Jedi had believed that it was, in fact, Master Kelrada's folly that divided the Jedi. These faithless Knights, who would eventually become known as the Ospion Guardians, abandoned our teachings and our Order and established themselves as a secessionist movement. They were never truly dangerous, nor were they influenced by the dark side. They were just... misguided.
I had several opportunities to join this faction of fallen Jedi. In fact, there were several times when I nearly left the Jedi Order altogether. Was it not easier in the Ospion Guardians to gain the vengeance I needed against the Alsakan Union? The Jedi Council would never permit me to take a life in revenge. I was ignorant back then. In a way, I am still ignorant. Nevertheless, I refrained from joining the faithless Jedi and remained with the Jedi Order.
I had two masters during my time as a Jedi Padawan. The Zabrak Jedi known as Vizza Mander served as my first Jedi teacher, although his untimely death caused my training to cease for a time. I concluded my training with the Jedi Knight Javiik Valivin. He seemed a bit of a recluse to me, and I never understood him. His teachings were sound and his lessons wise, so I took them to heart whenever I could. Perhaps we shall meet again and dialog sometime; I would be interested to see what he has been doing in the past twenty years since I served as his Padawan learner.
Not long after I was Knighted, Master Dewbecca called for a meeting of the Jedi on Ossus. It was the last great assembly of Jedi Knights that I can recall, and it was quite a sight to behold. Though it was nothing in comparison to the former conclave, several powerful and sagacious Jedi attended. The meeting was nearly entirely based upon the actions of the Ospion Guardians. I understood that the Jedi Order could never exist as a divided faction, so I fervently supported the Grandmaster's proposition to fight our fallen brethren. Despite my own, and that of other Jedi, desire to attack before further rifts could be torn through our Order, the majority of the Jedi desired patience. And patient we were.
During our meditation and period of restraint, the Alsakan Union collapsed, finally breaking apart against the might of the Galactic Republic. I was somewhat perturbed when news of its destruction reached me. I had wanted to be personally involved in the defeat of the Alsakan after what they had done to my brother. Even as a Jedi Knight, I held a desire to avenge my brother.
Of course, my feelings of revenge were slowly weakened over time by the Jedi Code and other emotions within. I developed a strong desire for justice, and found myself constantly returning to Ossus to study the archaic lore of the ancient Jedi. I spent so much time in the holobooks of Ossus, that I practically lived in its vast libraries. Volumes upon volumes were furiously perused by me for weeks upon end. It was not long before I had become a Jedi Master, one of the venerable Jedi who had proven their fealty to the Code, and their loyalty to the Order.
~Justice
My life in between the wars is hardly worth recollecting. For nearly two decades, I traveled abroad. I studied ancient lore throughout the galaxy, interacted with hundreds -if not thousands- of individuals, and spent time learning the customs of many who called the Outer Rim territories home. I spent time on Alderaan, Corellia, and Coruscant to hone my skills with my lightsaber, although the time I spent on these Jedi sanctuaries was minimal compared to the time I spent trekking across the galaxy.
I tried not confining myself to a single place for longer than a few months. With the introduction of the hyperdrive, mass transit exploded across the galaxy, and I willingly joined in on the phenomenon when it took place. My destinations continued to grow farther and farther apart the longer I stayed away from the Jedi. At times, I simply donned the most fanciful and ornate clothing I could find and traveled amongst the people, acting as an innocent civilian or perplexed tourist. It was a joyous and educational experience.
It was on Manaan that I met him. I was sulking -well, not exactly, but for time's sake, let's say I was sulking- in a bar on the oceanic cities of Manaan when a man, probably about twenty years my senior at the time, approached me. He was quite jovial, and we enjoyed a few drinks while we recounted old stories and tales of adventures the two of us had. We shared a blissful camaraderie. However, as he was recounting war stories, he mentioned serving in the Alsakan Union, and noted that he had scored the most kills at the very same location my brother had died. Needless to say, I jumped to conclusions rather quickly and roughed him up quite a bit.
After a bloody and rather embarrassing bar fight that I need not share here, I dragged him out of the cantina by his salt-and-pepper hair and held him over the azure sea at the city limits. Informing him that I was a Jedi Master and that I could easily incapacitate him and prevent him from saving himself as he drowned.
I was prepared to throw him into the vast, glass-like ocean below when he pleaded for clemency. He was nearly crying as I prepared to throw him to his death, and something about his tears reminded me of my mother's and father's respective reactions to Sykian's death. And then, for a reason that I cannot explain even now, I dragged him away from the sea and placed him against a nearby wall. And that's where I left him. After finishing my business with him, I left Manaan and did not discover the old man's fate.
I finally returned to Ossus, nearly twenty years after I had left it. The Order's size and expanded heartily since the days of my introduction to the Order, and it had all but recovered from the schism wrought by the Conclave at Ossus. Most of the High Council had been converted to Coruscant's temple, due to the cordial relations that our Order had developed with the Galactic Republic. I remained on Ossus for sometime thereafter, tending to my books and reading all I could, ever yearning for more knowledge.
The Ospion Guardians had disappeared from the galactic stage during my absence. I had imagined that they had destroyed themselves in the process, and peace was practically imminent. During these final years of peace, I was admitted to the Jedi High Council on Coruscant, somewhat a surprise -albeit a welcome one- to me, but I did not deny their request and collected my things. I had since had the iron box, Sykiar's vault, shipped to me from Kluistar, and I brought that along with my lightsaber and extensive wardrobe to Coruscant. I will always cherish the vault for reminding me of my deceased brother, and I will always cherish Ossus because it reminds me of home.
~ Light in the dark
The Galactic Republic and the Hutt Empire of the Outer Rim met shortly thereafter. Needless to say, the initial meetings had not gone well. War eventually threatened to consume the galaxy in its damnable flames yet again. Had we been too absorbed in our peace, which I thought was well-deserved, to notice this threat? Jedi were deployed on the front lines alongside the Republic vanguard and foray fleets, where they led or assisted in leading the troops.
This will be a bitter, bloody struggle. Even as the Hutt War begins in earnest, a new threat -a dark threat- looms on the horizon. That ever mysterious horizon. It is faint and fleeting, but the light can feel it. Shadows in the light. I do not know who they are, but we shall be fighting each other blindly. Light and Dark. Two extremes that share a single fate.
The Jedi Order has grown with me since I first joined, nearly twenty years ago. Or perhaps, I have grown with it. Regardless, our noble and wise Order is ever threatened by new and perilous foes, yet we will remain the same. Our justice, perseverance, and will provide hope for those who struggle. We shall bring peace to a galaxy at war. We will protect the weak with our strength. We will serve as bastions of light against the forces of darkness. So is our destiny. So is my destiny. I am a Jedi.
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