Heir to the Empire
There was an odd feeling of being at the center of the galaxy, home to some of the more excitingly seedy, yet oh-so lucrative ventures that a young guy like Lucien had become accustomed to enjoy; Sabacc tournaments, Swoop Racing events, Gambling of all sorts for that matter, to name a few of the reasons he ever ventured so far from the Rim. The Core worlds were a place for him to relax away from the troubles that plagued the home which he cherished and loved; and not just Serenno, but the Rim itself, would be the accurate meaning behind his words. He was a Spacer at heart now, in spite of the noble origins that he came from. He would never forget who he was though, even if he didn't necessarily agree with the path his family had taken. He was a Prince, an exiled one for sure, but it was his choice to do so.
He avoided the game of politics and deceit that brought his family to the zenith of their hegemony in what may have been centuries. The planet prospered beneath their rule, but the cost was all too evident once the glitz, glamour and prosperity was washed away like the grime it truly was. The Sith Empire controlled the world, and there was nothing the famous Serennoan individuality could do about that. The planet was, and would potentially remain beneath the thumb of the Emperor for decades, if not centuries to come. It would take more than their spirit to break from those chains as well, but much like a loyal canine, Serenno was loyal to a fault as long as they were fed and showed attention. It was a cruel curse bestowed upon the land he once called home, but luckily there was a single saving grace which kept him from the brunt of the Imperial machinations affecting his home world.
His Master, Jo'ron Maal, the one person who took the impressionable Prince and molded him to believe there was something greater besides the rule of the Sith. Together they visited dozens of worlds, and Lucien was introduced to even more people and species than he could've ever imagined were outside the singular identity that was Serennoan nobility. He taught Lucien the way of the Jedi- perhaps not to the specifics of the code that the official organizations had followed, but it instilled within him an appreciation for the positive things that were out there in the galaxy. Being a Jedi was never about fighting the Sith and upholding some stoic code for him. It was always about seeking out the things that brought him happiness and joy, being empathetic whenever possible, and understanding the true nature of the galaxy where others could only disseminate incomplete pictures.
His training came to a close after ten years or so- he couldn't remember the specifics by now. He could only remember the memories that were formed during what felt like the longest, most enjoyable and insightful ride of his life. In spite of the Sith's influence on his world, the Light had always been present within him, but so was the dark as well, according to his master. His training was sculpted to specifically temper that duality which Lucien carried within him, and it all culminated in a final test which should've seen him granted the status of a Senior Padawan. Instead he found himself without a Master, and a future which would have him at the whim of the Sith who coveted the abilities of the force-sensitive like him. He left the planet shortly after, and it wasn't entirely wrong to say that he abandoned any chance of recovering his old life upon doing so. There was no chance of a normal family, nor was he able to seek out his master's tutelage either. Lucien spent an entire year and plenty of credits to track his location, but to no avail the journey was.
He was alone with nothing but his lightsaber, his starfighter, and a sassy droid to call a companion. He went down a path of his own choosing, the life of a spacer taking priority over the Jedi teachings which were once his bread and butter. His training, though incomplete, served him well in his quest to enjoy the long, dangerous ride of a life that brought many of his kind to ruin. He was no longer a Jedi, nor was he the same Prince that he once was either. Fate had forced his hand to shift what could've been a destiny that truly wasn't the calling for him, and there wasn't a single moment where he regretted the life of influence and absolute power that most definitely would've followed. It reminded him of an old saying that his Master use to tell him- back during the days where he struggled to balance that blazing fire within his core with the principles of the Jedi he sought to be.
“There are worse fates than being forced into a place where your choice of acts is limited to those where your soul burns brightest. Embrace the fire within, and always strive to the best you can be.”
Lucien had never forgotten Jo'ron or his teachings, and no, he'd never quit searching for the man in spite of the gallivanting he did around the galaxy. Though he found himself sidetracked more often than not, there were moments of focus -- such as now -- where he set his eyes on the most important goal he kept hidden in the back of his mind. He wanted to know if the man was alive, or perhaps reach closure by discovering if the Jedi Master had perished. The old man was tough, but the Sith chewed and spit out Jedi left and right back where he was from. His search led him to discovering that his former Master had been affiliated to a few different organizations during his time, with the Jedi Order based out of Coruscant being the most recent one before his disappearance those few years past. Luc wanted answers, and he planned on finding them if at all possible, and he wouldn't rule out a bit of that Scoundrel Magic if the Jedi at the temple were railroading him too hard.
The Great Hall was his initial destination, a good half a hour being spent roaming around and asking the Jedi passerby's questions pertaining to his master. They were simple enough; Do you know a Master by the name of Jo'ron Maal? Have you seen this man -insert holo image-? The usual questions that one threw out there when trying to find someone that was missing. His investigation bore no fruit other than a handful of Jedi giving him the barest minimum that he needed. They were still dead-ends though, and he was beginning to get frustrated. Frustration mixed with an impulse to do something, and the result was him heading right towards the direction of the Temple's archives. If he couldn't get any answers from the Jedi themselves, he figured their archives were the second best thing. It was a task easier said than done though, as the turbolift leading up into the archives was locked behind an ID code that he obviously didn't have.
He punched in a code, letting the force guide him on this one. And when it failed, he decided to try another code, and then another. The sound of heavier boots than normal moving across the floor towards him was not entirely unexpected, but nonetheless he privately cursed the force for not guiding him correctly on this one. He turned around, his sanguine demeanor slightly off-put by that devilish smirk curled on his lips. An average-sized patrol of Guardians and Sentinels were approaching the kid who definitely didn't belong to their Order, with his spacer-gear, wild and free hair, and lack of a Jedi's chip on his shoulder. The Jedi approaching him were the complete opposite of Lucien, and veritably more armored and equipped than he currently was at the moment.
"Well feth me indeed."
Maybe he'd avoid having to scrap his way out of there, if the force was truly with him.
Tempest Yore
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