Post by Fromikeable on Nov 27, 2011 16:10:09 GMT -5
Name: Vance Asano
Race: Human
Age: 19
Birthplace: Halfway to Cerea from Corellia (Space)
Allegiance: Sith Empire
Status: Sith Order
Rank: Apprentice
Height/Weight: 6’ 3”, 191 lbs.
Appearance: The most apparent thing about young Vance is his size. Definitely sitting on the taller side of the spectrum for human height, he usually doesn’t have any problem reaching things or being found in a crowd. Honestly, between the poofy, curly brown afro and his towering stature, it’s sort of a wonder that he couldn’t be picked out.
Second might be his eyes; a cool, steel-blue reminiscent of robin’s eggs. There’s something oddly thoughtful about them, as if behind everything they see there cogs turning within his head, processing and debating and thinking and observing. It’s very easy to tell when he studies something; these eyes fixate and peer, as if trying to stare their subject to pieces.
Beyond that, Vance is fairly ordinary. His face is fair with a slightly dented nose, solid eyebrows, and facial hair to match his fro. He shaves and cuts his hair on an imprecise, relaxed schedule, only ever addressing either if they bother him in some way. His body is akin more to a column than to a human, being relatively curve-free save for broad shoulders and strong legs.
The only things of remark beyond this include a small arrow-shaped scar on his left index finger, a faint bite-mark on his right forearm, and a light dusting of equally brown hair covering his appendages. All are usually hidden by his usual choice of darkly-colored robes (black usually, though a dark, dark brown if he can help it), though may become more apparent as his outfit changes for whatever he is tasked with.
Personality: Vance is many things, and of them all, curiosity surely reigns king. Over the years, an almost naive and out-of-touch interest in the world has been slowly refined into a critical, innocent desire to gave into the inner-workings of all he can see, be it people, devices, or other things of interest. More usually than not, he can’t help but ask questions, dig perhaps a little more than he should, and generally relish the chance to learn something.
Beyond that, Vance has also been conditioned both through his Jedi background and his own relaxed personality to generally be slow to anger. More prone to sarcasm or a smile, he tries to take things in stride and as they come rather, trying to hit a golden medium of flexibility and resilience. It’s one of his great debates as to if he hits it.
With that said, an angry Vance is usually unpleasant. Rampant emotions usually mix with his curiosity to demand answers and explanations now and right now, the rage not subsiding until at least some gaps of his knowledge are filled. Ignorance is something that bugs him; if he’s smart enough to know that he doesn’t know something, then he can range from bugged to paranoid in regards to its answer.
Beyond that, his insecurities are largely common. The only other large one of note is his personal struggle with his interpretation of the Force. He had never fully embraced the basic duality beloved by both Orders, and has rather found that the true nature of… nature isn’t quite so clear cut. With that said, he has just about no idea what it might be; an odd conclusion that only fuels his curiosity further. In short, he doesn’t ask questions because he simply wants to, but more because he needs to.
Ships/Vehicles:
None
Equipment:
One custom-made one-stage lightsaber; a sage-green crystal with a platinum hilt. A rather impressive piece of workmanship and art, it was actually constructed by Vance with copious amounts of help by the Jedi Artisans about the Temple.
Stats: (Feeble, Below Average, Average, Above Average, Superior, Legendary)
Strength - Above Average
Agility - Below Average
Intelligence - Above Average
Charisma - Average
Force Stats: (Unskilled, Novice, Apprentice, Adept, Expert, Master)
Telekinetic- Adept
Telepathic- Apprentice
Body- Novice
Sense- Adept
Protection- Novice
Healing:– Unskilled
Destruction– Unskilled
Combat Training:
Basic Hand-to-Hand Combat (Novice)
Force Training:
Other Training:
Mechanic (Novice)
Lightsaber Training:
Shii-Cho- Expert
Makashi- Untrained
Soresu- Adept
Ataru- Untrained
Shien/Djem So- Untrained
>>Sub-form Backhanded- Untrained
Niman- Untrained
>>Sub-form Jar-kai- Untrained
Juyo- Untrained
Double Bladed Combat- Untrained
Biography:
I
Vance was born to a pair of traveling galactic merchants; Ovadiah and Kilma Asano. Kilma discovered that she was pregnant months before the trip began, and she and her husband hoped to return to Cerea, their chosen home, in time to give birth to their son. The best laid plans of mice and men are oft to go awry, however, and young Vance took his first precious gulps of air in the cockpit of a grain freighter a day before it was due in to port.
Vance spent his first year of life constantly shuttled about the galaxy as Kilma and Ovadiah earned their livelihood. As the infant became old enough to live outside of proximity to his mother’s bussom, however, he found himself being left for the occasional week or two with Ovadiah’s brother Kilv, as bringing a bawling baby boy on lengthy trading voyages proved unpleasant for all involved. When “kil!” become his first word, however, Vance’s parents resolved to adjust their business, seeking out large trades that would pay them enough to spend more time with their son.
One such trade (a shipment of quasi-legal vibroblades to a quasi-legal space station right on the Hutt border) proved to be a deal too sweet to be true, and both traders were killed in the Mid-Rim the moment they docked their freighter (Vance is not aware of their fate, but aware of his orphanage). Kilv, being the boy’s uncle as well as a mechanic on Cerea, cared for him lovingly after his grief, and surrounded him with numerous droid repairs and speeder tune-ups. During these years, Vance adopted a liking for machinery; a hobby that would stay with him throughout his lifetime.
II
Vance was tested for Force-sensitivity during his first doctor’s check-up with Kilv. Proving to be eligible for the Jedi Order, Kilv was given food for thought as the toddler slowly matured. On his fourth birthday, one of Cerea’s resident Watchman on Kilv’s doorstep, asking the man if he was willing to relinquish his nephew. After a few days of deep consideration, a good deal of “What would they want for him” thoughts, and admittedly a drink or two, the uncle released the boy with tears of mixed joy in his eyes. The Jedi delivered young Vance to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, where he was welcomed with robes, smiles, and for the first time, constant contact with other kids. Initially very shy, Vance found it difficult to create solid bonds with fellow younglings since he had never before had the opportunity to do so. Luckily, the young child’s rather warm persona aided him in his adjustment, making it very easy for his peers to approach him despite his reservations. As time passed, both city life and social living would come to suit the young Jedi quite well.
Vance progressed well in terms of training. His mentors would half-scold and half-praise him when he occasionally underestimated his power and sent pieces of fruit to the ceiling and back, or deliver onto him small rewards for particularly tricky vocabulary words and grammar (to be fair, mastering the three there’s is no small feat). In terms of his Force training, Asano generally did well in the area of telekinesis, taking easily to mind the concept of "size doesn't matter." In terms of his studies, he found himself gravitating back to his subconscious childhood, far preferring multiplication tables and long division problems to his reading assignments. All fields were approached with a game of 20 questions that both pleased and plagued his instructors.
Ultimately however, Vance tended to confine himself to the Archives. A few instructors would joke that he was destined to be an Archivist with the rate at which he would wander about the towering shelves, but he honestly simply enjoyed the idea of so many new things being contained in one room. He would constantly dig up long forgotten stories about the Jedi of long ago, or volcanoes, or big ships, or even the occasional novel; if it captured his imagination, then it was a safe bet that he’d make a day out of flipping through holopads, his feet swaying as he soaked things in like a sponge.
Saber combat also interested the young Vance, though a slightly lesser degree. In terms of his combat skills, Vance found great difficulty in being aggressive, failing whenever a fight required well-coordinated strikes. When asked to attack, he would often stumble and swing like a miniature drunk. However, this was made up for when he adopted more defensive and counteractive means of fighting, particularly when his actions were more reactionary than provocative. In his later years as a youngling, his friends would hold competitions to see who could break his defenses (which often times few could). As his classes began to roll to a close, he found himself under the eyes of a few prospective masters, each interested in him for different reasons. The one that ultimately won out was a kindly Kel Dor Master Consular by the name of Ra Shon Tul.
III
Vance initially accompanied Ra Shon Tul on a few expeditions into the Mid Rim. The missions mainly consisted of settling boundary disputes, putting an end to political feuds, and other sorts of domestic peace-keeping. For example, one of Vance's first missions with his master was to ease tensions between two raging politicians demanding different armaments for a local militia (the classic “blades vs. blasters” dispute). In instances such as these, Vance would do nothing but follow his master and observe his sangfroid in the face of aggression. The matter of these politicians, for example, was quickly revealed to be a fraternal feud as Shon Tul discovered that they were brothers, using this information to bypass them and go directly to the region’s governor according to local laws of succession. During these missions, Vance came to learn how to bite his tongue and retain his patience, as the matters could never be settled quickly.
This patience also stemmed from Master Ra Shon Tul. Although he never revealed much of his past to Vance, he revered patience and determination above all other aspects of peacekeeping. Often times the elder Kel Dor would go on short speeches that were borderline cheesy, setting forth rhetoricals a la “Was the Republic built in a day, young Vance?” While his pupil didn’t exactly find these talks thrilling, he came to hold an appreciation for the attribute, doing his best for his master to emanate it.
Such talks and assignments filled three years, with Vance growing a bit more practical and a good bit taller. He found his need for questions in conflict with his master’s obsession for patience, often times having to catch himself mid-question to some government representative or diplomat and consequently apologizing. Sometimes it was taken as with a smile and a warm reception, other times… well, he learned the hard way that questions couldn’t simply be blurted out.
As the boy began to grow in his demands for training, Shon Tul lent him a simple, Green one-stage training saber. This was regarded as a serious matter by the padawan, as he had never once seen his master unsheathe his own weapon. In fact, when Vance questioned his master as to why they were not simply going to make one, his master took him aside, knelt (slightly) to his height, and flatly asked the him to vow that he would not use the device unless he was supervised. Vance agreed, slightly bewildered by how absolutely serious his normally very kindly master acted on the subject. Nevertheless, the saber saw use under some very cautious, very somber training, and by age fourteen, Vance was becoming well-versed in Shii-Cho. Most sparring matches were held on ships between worlds, and each and every single one was, of course, followed by a period of meditation.
This training slowly began to extend to Force training, with Vance further developing his affinity for telekinesis. Shon Tul would often chuckle as he watched Vance pick up a dozen pebbles, requesting shapes and patterns and watching the stones swirl about. In general, the old Kel Dor seemed far more relaxed about Force powers than he did sabers, and thus lessons on the former were done almost as fun breathers between somber spars. Ultimately, they were fun, and proved to be great times to the two to bond.
IV
However, tragedy struck as Vance entered his sixteenth year. The young padawan found himself and his master on Agamar to observe a meeting of the planet’s legislature. Vance was given a specific task by Shon Tul; stay close to one particularly radical legislator’s son, as there were unconfirmed reports that there were assassination plans in the works. As the days rolled by and the legislature proved to only become more heated, Shon Tul finally delivered an order unto his padawan; accompany the son off-world until the situation cooled. Vance did so with hesitation, uneasy with the idea of separating in an apparently unsafe atmosphere. Shon Tul presented no avenue for debate, and soon he and the politician’s son were safely back on Coruscant.
A day later, news spread across the holonet. A Jedi Master had been killed on Agamar defending a radical’s life from a would-be assassin. And just like that, Vance was masterless.
Vance was, understandably, grieved. Shon Tul had always been a very distant teacher, but nevertheless he’d come to love the man from what he knew of him. The teenager sulked and grieved for a good month as his situation was debated and considered, meaning that most of that month was spent with him stowed away in his room at the Temple, trying to work things out.
The Order, however, was understandably reluctant to leave a young mind alone with thoughts of loss and sudden grief. The organization therefore set about attempting to find the young padawan a new master; a surprisingly difficult task, given his age and precise level of training. What he found was that he became a sort of… cooled hot potato. The Order would find him a master who would be nice enough and surely helpful, and he would continue his training (with some interruption) for a good while until the master would become indisposed.
V (getit?)
On the one hand, this benefited the young Jedi greatly. In the span of three years, he came to know numerous Jedi with varying backgrounds and occupations (about five, all said and done, though only two were officially his masters). The first, a young Guardian Miraluka, set the somewhat pudgy young Vance on to a regime of fitness, starting the long process of toning what had otherwise become (and was still becoming) a large body. Fat began to melt as saber training became a focus, with Vance’s somewhat overly-cautious approach to Shii-Cho (a result of Shon Tul’s approach, unfortunately) was hammered away at until it more resembled the actual form.
On the other hand, this arrangement made it difficult for Vance to regard his instructors as much more than instructors. The Guardian was soon whisked away on a mission deemed far too dangerous for the padawan’s accompaniment, and after a week of no word from him, the Order shuffled Vance once again. His second teacher, for example, was a middle-aged Duro master clearly up to his eyeballs in managing Medi-Corps business. The man was certainly nice enough to the young pupil, and when he could, he gave decent lessons and training sessions, but honestly Vance barely knew his name. The arrangement gave the young Jedi plenty of free-time, as the Duro barely ever took him anywhere and would often leave him at the Temple for days at a time without contact. Vance, however, found this fine, devoting the time to his past-time at the Archives.
It was during this period in particular that the young padawan became enthralled with Soresu; a form that he found particularly likable despite his total lack of knowledge. He learned as much as he could about it from books and holos, spending time in training rooms simply trying to learn the katas and forms. The Duro would offer a little help when possible, but ultimately, Vance self-taught himself the basics.
Unsurprisingly, the Duro was quickly scuttled when he finally admitted that he simply did not have the time young Vance needed. The Order acknowledged this and eventually paired him with an old Epicanthix Master who normally spent most of his time in the Temple as it was; his usual job was teaching Younglings, and indeed Vance seemed to remember having him as a teacher once so long ago. This man got along with Vance famously, particularly when the young padawan explained his discovery of Soresu (the Epicanthix’s speciality and favorite, particularly in his advanced age). Beyond that, they shared much in common, including warm hearts, tall heights, and very relaxed personalities. Vance’s affinity for Soresu grew exponentially under the elder Master as it became the focus of their training sessions, and Force training was once again renewed. Even Vance’s physical regime was expanded, all traces of fat now gone, paving a way for the muscles of his future years.
Even this, however, found its end. The old Epicanthix simply found himself to be ready for his next chapter, and after a heartfelt goodbye to his quasi-student, he retired as a Watchman to Alderaan. Admittedly a little sad to see him go, Vance would have “a week off” before he was shuffled to his fourth instructor; a lively Wroonian Artisan woman.
The Artisan was very upfront; she was crafting her masterpiece and could use a hand, provided that Vance was willing to learn. Since Vance had absolutely no issue with that particular will, he found himself practically living in the Artisan workshops on Coruscant. While the Wroonian surely taught him how to safely heat metal and customize a saber, he found himself learning more from the entire group of Artisans he met every day, as if he was the newest apprentice in a guild of craftsmen. Some days he and a Knight or two would be sent out for materials. Other days he would be charged with heavy lifting. Other days still he’d be taught to smooth edges, and then asked to do so for a few pieces involved with the next masterpiece.
This sparked his more creative appetites. Vance had never been particularly artistic, however the Artisans’ passion seemed to move him ever so little. As the Wroonian came to wonder about why he didn’t yet have a saber, she asked if he would like to build one. Taking the extra step, Vance agreed, but asked her how to make one from scratch.
The result was his very own platinum hilt, hand-made and totally original. He’d even learned how to solder the circuits (with some major help, of course). The only thing he lacked was the crystal; a bit that the Wroonian swore she would take him to Illum to find. As her masterpiece finished, however, she found herself far too caught up in the excitement of its creation, and quickly became less and less available. Finally reporting in to the Order, Vance would receive news of his fifth instructor and third official master by way of holomessage one morning as he tinkered with a faulty wire in the workshop.
VI
Vance’s final master turned out to be a wise, exotic Shadow woman of a species he’d barely even heard of. She would first meet him by finding him sulking down the halls, understandably demoralized by the idea of trading hands yet again. She, however, quickly bolstered back his motivations, and they set off to Illum with haste.
Vance could immediately tell that he liked this woman, as she proved very receptive to every question he flung at her. She proved to be more like an aunt than a master, treating him with a certain air of familiarity that very quickly set up a good friendship between the two. As they retrieved his crystal on Illum, she set him to work in a brand new field of training; sensing. Already having learned a basic amount about the practice from his time learning telekinesis (what one couldn’t sense, they couldn’t grasp), the female Shadow would keep him on the ice world for a month, making him come to associate the cold and spartan cots with days filled with sensing, hiding, seeking, sparring, and meditating. When his crystal was finally complete, their trip to the planet was ushered to an end with the first activation of his saber.
The Shadow and he traversed the galaxy more than he ever had with Shon Tul, though as months passed and the war began to escalate, the Shadow found herself going away for longer and longer. Finally Vance was left again at a Temple, this time on Taris, waiting long enough for the Order to officially renounce his master. Even though this time it was expected, the padawan still took it with a somber look and a heavy heart.
A new problem also arose. With the war only escalating (especially in terms of the Jedi on Taris), a replacement instructor, let alone master, became increasingly difficult to come by. As days ticked into weeks, and weeks into two whole months, Vance found himself celebrating his nineteenth birthday with an air of trepidation; it seemed to him and namely the people debating what to do with him that the only remaining option was for him to be admitted to one of the Corps.
Even as this decision remained unofficial. Vance was regardless set to work with Corp duties throughout Taris (of which there were many), his basic skills with machines becoming incredibly useful for the high-rise city.
VII
It was only with a faulty wire that Vance would find himself waking up one day in the lower levels of Taris, buried by the debris of a building he had been working in. After a repair job for the ventilation system had gone awry, the padawan had inadvertently caused an explosion that had rocked both the tower and the subterranean rakghoul nests nearby. It was only by a stroke of fate (or a cruel twist; he wouldn’t be quite sure which) that an Arkanian woman with two red sabers would find him and dig him out, protecting him from the circling rakghouls and carrying him to her ship. After a serum for both of them and a spell in a kolto tank to heal, the young Jedi would find himself naked, off-world, and in the debt of one Darth Novus.
Needless to say, this is where things got interesting.
Roleplay Sample: Taris was hardly a place for scholars that weren’t craving ancient tomes of forbidden knowledge, but regardless, it could successfully claim to hold one today. In a dark, ominous temple on a particularly arid, sandy day, the claimant would be found in the Archives, still amazed by their existence.
Honestly. Who would have thought that the Sith had Archives?
But to Vance, that fact raised far more questions than it answered. Where had all of this knowledge come from? Was it stolen? Plagiarized? The recreated knowledge of an Order abandoned by power-hungry lunatics? Or was it original? The results of sick experiments and dastardly histories that the Jedi would rather forget?
... maybe it’s normal though. Well, as “normal” as a library about the Force in a cult temple in a desert on an infamous world could be.
But what if it was simply just basic knowledge? What if it was theories on the Force, and histories on Tython and Coruscant, and histories of wars and past Jedi (and, he supposed, past Sith), and instructions on how to build a saber, and instructions on where to find crystals?
… if it was such basic knowledge, did it deserve to be there?
Vance sighed. This was all far too metaphysical for him today. He’d found this place in an admittedly moot attempt at refuge; he’d hoped that it would remind him of the Archives back home on Coruscant. What’d he found instead was… well, exactly what he’d looked for. The Sith Archives looked almost identical to their Jedi counterparts, giving an eerie, almost spine-shivering sense of familiarity and sameness. A small part of him had hoped to… he didn’t know. Find something that would help draw the line in the sand a little bolder, not make it fainter.
Because Force knew that he could use something to be certain of these days.
But no. He just… needed a breather. Closing his eyes and taking a good minute to clear his head, the young man would slowly take deep breaths. His hand placed down the holopad he was reading, softly flexing and stretching his fingers. He focused on the air, the table, the chair… what was right there in front of him, plain as day.
Finally he opened his eyes. There was a holopad. There was a Temple. There was an Archive. Where that holo had come from or how that Temple had gotten there or how that Archive had been formed were… mysteries to him. Mysteries he would solve, surely, but… not right now. At the very least, not this very second.
... maybe I can find out in the Archives. Now there was an idea. Standing, he picked up his small stack of holos and took one more deep breath before retreating, disappearing behind walls of knowledge.
Race: Human
Age: 19
Birthplace: Halfway to Cerea from Corellia (Space)
Allegiance: Sith Empire
Status: Sith Order
Rank: Apprentice
Height/Weight: 6’ 3”, 191 lbs.
Appearance: The most apparent thing about young Vance is his size. Definitely sitting on the taller side of the spectrum for human height, he usually doesn’t have any problem reaching things or being found in a crowd. Honestly, between the poofy, curly brown afro and his towering stature, it’s sort of a wonder that he couldn’t be picked out.
Second might be his eyes; a cool, steel-blue reminiscent of robin’s eggs. There’s something oddly thoughtful about them, as if behind everything they see there cogs turning within his head, processing and debating and thinking and observing. It’s very easy to tell when he studies something; these eyes fixate and peer, as if trying to stare their subject to pieces.
Beyond that, Vance is fairly ordinary. His face is fair with a slightly dented nose, solid eyebrows, and facial hair to match his fro. He shaves and cuts his hair on an imprecise, relaxed schedule, only ever addressing either if they bother him in some way. His body is akin more to a column than to a human, being relatively curve-free save for broad shoulders and strong legs.
The only things of remark beyond this include a small arrow-shaped scar on his left index finger, a faint bite-mark on his right forearm, and a light dusting of equally brown hair covering his appendages. All are usually hidden by his usual choice of darkly-colored robes (black usually, though a dark, dark brown if he can help it), though may become more apparent as his outfit changes for whatever he is tasked with.
Personality: Vance is many things, and of them all, curiosity surely reigns king. Over the years, an almost naive and out-of-touch interest in the world has been slowly refined into a critical, innocent desire to gave into the inner-workings of all he can see, be it people, devices, or other things of interest. More usually than not, he can’t help but ask questions, dig perhaps a little more than he should, and generally relish the chance to learn something.
Beyond that, Vance has also been conditioned both through his Jedi background and his own relaxed personality to generally be slow to anger. More prone to sarcasm or a smile, he tries to take things in stride and as they come rather, trying to hit a golden medium of flexibility and resilience. It’s one of his great debates as to if he hits it.
With that said, an angry Vance is usually unpleasant. Rampant emotions usually mix with his curiosity to demand answers and explanations now and right now, the rage not subsiding until at least some gaps of his knowledge are filled. Ignorance is something that bugs him; if he’s smart enough to know that he doesn’t know something, then he can range from bugged to paranoid in regards to its answer.
Beyond that, his insecurities are largely common. The only other large one of note is his personal struggle with his interpretation of the Force. He had never fully embraced the basic duality beloved by both Orders, and has rather found that the true nature of… nature isn’t quite so clear cut. With that said, he has just about no idea what it might be; an odd conclusion that only fuels his curiosity further. In short, he doesn’t ask questions because he simply wants to, but more because he needs to.
Ships/Vehicles:
None
Equipment:
One custom-made one-stage lightsaber; a sage-green crystal with a platinum hilt. A rather impressive piece of workmanship and art, it was actually constructed by Vance with copious amounts of help by the Jedi Artisans about the Temple.
Stats: (Feeble, Below Average, Average, Above Average, Superior, Legendary)
Strength - Above Average
Agility - Below Average
Intelligence - Above Average
Charisma - Average
Force Stats: (Unskilled, Novice, Apprentice, Adept, Expert, Master)
Telekinetic- Adept
Telepathic- Apprentice
Body- Novice
Sense- Adept
Protection- Novice
Healing:– Unskilled
Destruction– Unskilled
Combat Training:
Basic Hand-to-Hand Combat (Novice)
Force Training:
Other Training:
Mechanic (Novice)
Lightsaber Training:
Shii-Cho- Expert
Makashi- Untrained
Soresu- Adept
Ataru- Untrained
Shien/Djem So- Untrained
>>Sub-form Backhanded- Untrained
Niman- Untrained
>>Sub-form Jar-kai- Untrained
Juyo- Untrained
Double Bladed Combat- Untrained
Biography:
I
Vance was born to a pair of traveling galactic merchants; Ovadiah and Kilma Asano. Kilma discovered that she was pregnant months before the trip began, and she and her husband hoped to return to Cerea, their chosen home, in time to give birth to their son. The best laid plans of mice and men are oft to go awry, however, and young Vance took his first precious gulps of air in the cockpit of a grain freighter a day before it was due in to port.
Vance spent his first year of life constantly shuttled about the galaxy as Kilma and Ovadiah earned their livelihood. As the infant became old enough to live outside of proximity to his mother’s bussom, however, he found himself being left for the occasional week or two with Ovadiah’s brother Kilv, as bringing a bawling baby boy on lengthy trading voyages proved unpleasant for all involved. When “kil!” become his first word, however, Vance’s parents resolved to adjust their business, seeking out large trades that would pay them enough to spend more time with their son.
One such trade (a shipment of quasi-legal vibroblades to a quasi-legal space station right on the Hutt border) proved to be a deal too sweet to be true, and both traders were killed in the Mid-Rim the moment they docked their freighter (Vance is not aware of their fate, but aware of his orphanage). Kilv, being the boy’s uncle as well as a mechanic on Cerea, cared for him lovingly after his grief, and surrounded him with numerous droid repairs and speeder tune-ups. During these years, Vance adopted a liking for machinery; a hobby that would stay with him throughout his lifetime.
II
Vance was tested for Force-sensitivity during his first doctor’s check-up with Kilv. Proving to be eligible for the Jedi Order, Kilv was given food for thought as the toddler slowly matured. On his fourth birthday, one of Cerea’s resident Watchman on Kilv’s doorstep, asking the man if he was willing to relinquish his nephew. After a few days of deep consideration, a good deal of “What would they want for him” thoughts, and admittedly a drink or two, the uncle released the boy with tears of mixed joy in his eyes. The Jedi delivered young Vance to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, where he was welcomed with robes, smiles, and for the first time, constant contact with other kids. Initially very shy, Vance found it difficult to create solid bonds with fellow younglings since he had never before had the opportunity to do so. Luckily, the young child’s rather warm persona aided him in his adjustment, making it very easy for his peers to approach him despite his reservations. As time passed, both city life and social living would come to suit the young Jedi quite well.
Vance progressed well in terms of training. His mentors would half-scold and half-praise him when he occasionally underestimated his power and sent pieces of fruit to the ceiling and back, or deliver onto him small rewards for particularly tricky vocabulary words and grammar (to be fair, mastering the three there’s is no small feat). In terms of his Force training, Asano generally did well in the area of telekinesis, taking easily to mind the concept of "size doesn't matter." In terms of his studies, he found himself gravitating back to his subconscious childhood, far preferring multiplication tables and long division problems to his reading assignments. All fields were approached with a game of 20 questions that both pleased and plagued his instructors.
Ultimately however, Vance tended to confine himself to the Archives. A few instructors would joke that he was destined to be an Archivist with the rate at which he would wander about the towering shelves, but he honestly simply enjoyed the idea of so many new things being contained in one room. He would constantly dig up long forgotten stories about the Jedi of long ago, or volcanoes, or big ships, or even the occasional novel; if it captured his imagination, then it was a safe bet that he’d make a day out of flipping through holopads, his feet swaying as he soaked things in like a sponge.
Saber combat also interested the young Vance, though a slightly lesser degree. In terms of his combat skills, Vance found great difficulty in being aggressive, failing whenever a fight required well-coordinated strikes. When asked to attack, he would often stumble and swing like a miniature drunk. However, this was made up for when he adopted more defensive and counteractive means of fighting, particularly when his actions were more reactionary than provocative. In his later years as a youngling, his friends would hold competitions to see who could break his defenses (which often times few could). As his classes began to roll to a close, he found himself under the eyes of a few prospective masters, each interested in him for different reasons. The one that ultimately won out was a kindly Kel Dor Master Consular by the name of Ra Shon Tul.
III
Vance initially accompanied Ra Shon Tul on a few expeditions into the Mid Rim. The missions mainly consisted of settling boundary disputes, putting an end to political feuds, and other sorts of domestic peace-keeping. For example, one of Vance's first missions with his master was to ease tensions between two raging politicians demanding different armaments for a local militia (the classic “blades vs. blasters” dispute). In instances such as these, Vance would do nothing but follow his master and observe his sangfroid in the face of aggression. The matter of these politicians, for example, was quickly revealed to be a fraternal feud as Shon Tul discovered that they were brothers, using this information to bypass them and go directly to the region’s governor according to local laws of succession. During these missions, Vance came to learn how to bite his tongue and retain his patience, as the matters could never be settled quickly.
This patience also stemmed from Master Ra Shon Tul. Although he never revealed much of his past to Vance, he revered patience and determination above all other aspects of peacekeeping. Often times the elder Kel Dor would go on short speeches that were borderline cheesy, setting forth rhetoricals a la “Was the Republic built in a day, young Vance?” While his pupil didn’t exactly find these talks thrilling, he came to hold an appreciation for the attribute, doing his best for his master to emanate it.
Such talks and assignments filled three years, with Vance growing a bit more practical and a good bit taller. He found his need for questions in conflict with his master’s obsession for patience, often times having to catch himself mid-question to some government representative or diplomat and consequently apologizing. Sometimes it was taken as with a smile and a warm reception, other times… well, he learned the hard way that questions couldn’t simply be blurted out.
As the boy began to grow in his demands for training, Shon Tul lent him a simple, Green one-stage training saber. This was regarded as a serious matter by the padawan, as he had never once seen his master unsheathe his own weapon. In fact, when Vance questioned his master as to why they were not simply going to make one, his master took him aside, knelt (slightly) to his height, and flatly asked the him to vow that he would not use the device unless he was supervised. Vance agreed, slightly bewildered by how absolutely serious his normally very kindly master acted on the subject. Nevertheless, the saber saw use under some very cautious, very somber training, and by age fourteen, Vance was becoming well-versed in Shii-Cho. Most sparring matches were held on ships between worlds, and each and every single one was, of course, followed by a period of meditation.
This training slowly began to extend to Force training, with Vance further developing his affinity for telekinesis. Shon Tul would often chuckle as he watched Vance pick up a dozen pebbles, requesting shapes and patterns and watching the stones swirl about. In general, the old Kel Dor seemed far more relaxed about Force powers than he did sabers, and thus lessons on the former were done almost as fun breathers between somber spars. Ultimately, they were fun, and proved to be great times to the two to bond.
IV
However, tragedy struck as Vance entered his sixteenth year. The young padawan found himself and his master on Agamar to observe a meeting of the planet’s legislature. Vance was given a specific task by Shon Tul; stay close to one particularly radical legislator’s son, as there were unconfirmed reports that there were assassination plans in the works. As the days rolled by and the legislature proved to only become more heated, Shon Tul finally delivered an order unto his padawan; accompany the son off-world until the situation cooled. Vance did so with hesitation, uneasy with the idea of separating in an apparently unsafe atmosphere. Shon Tul presented no avenue for debate, and soon he and the politician’s son were safely back on Coruscant.
A day later, news spread across the holonet. A Jedi Master had been killed on Agamar defending a radical’s life from a would-be assassin. And just like that, Vance was masterless.
Vance was, understandably, grieved. Shon Tul had always been a very distant teacher, but nevertheless he’d come to love the man from what he knew of him. The teenager sulked and grieved for a good month as his situation was debated and considered, meaning that most of that month was spent with him stowed away in his room at the Temple, trying to work things out.
The Order, however, was understandably reluctant to leave a young mind alone with thoughts of loss and sudden grief. The organization therefore set about attempting to find the young padawan a new master; a surprisingly difficult task, given his age and precise level of training. What he found was that he became a sort of… cooled hot potato. The Order would find him a master who would be nice enough and surely helpful, and he would continue his training (with some interruption) for a good while until the master would become indisposed.
V (getit?)
On the one hand, this benefited the young Jedi greatly. In the span of three years, he came to know numerous Jedi with varying backgrounds and occupations (about five, all said and done, though only two were officially his masters). The first, a young Guardian Miraluka, set the somewhat pudgy young Vance on to a regime of fitness, starting the long process of toning what had otherwise become (and was still becoming) a large body. Fat began to melt as saber training became a focus, with Vance’s somewhat overly-cautious approach to Shii-Cho (a result of Shon Tul’s approach, unfortunately) was hammered away at until it more resembled the actual form.
On the other hand, this arrangement made it difficult for Vance to regard his instructors as much more than instructors. The Guardian was soon whisked away on a mission deemed far too dangerous for the padawan’s accompaniment, and after a week of no word from him, the Order shuffled Vance once again. His second teacher, for example, was a middle-aged Duro master clearly up to his eyeballs in managing Medi-Corps business. The man was certainly nice enough to the young pupil, and when he could, he gave decent lessons and training sessions, but honestly Vance barely knew his name. The arrangement gave the young Jedi plenty of free-time, as the Duro barely ever took him anywhere and would often leave him at the Temple for days at a time without contact. Vance, however, found this fine, devoting the time to his past-time at the Archives.
It was during this period in particular that the young padawan became enthralled with Soresu; a form that he found particularly likable despite his total lack of knowledge. He learned as much as he could about it from books and holos, spending time in training rooms simply trying to learn the katas and forms. The Duro would offer a little help when possible, but ultimately, Vance self-taught himself the basics.
Unsurprisingly, the Duro was quickly scuttled when he finally admitted that he simply did not have the time young Vance needed. The Order acknowledged this and eventually paired him with an old Epicanthix Master who normally spent most of his time in the Temple as it was; his usual job was teaching Younglings, and indeed Vance seemed to remember having him as a teacher once so long ago. This man got along with Vance famously, particularly when the young padawan explained his discovery of Soresu (the Epicanthix’s speciality and favorite, particularly in his advanced age). Beyond that, they shared much in common, including warm hearts, tall heights, and very relaxed personalities. Vance’s affinity for Soresu grew exponentially under the elder Master as it became the focus of their training sessions, and Force training was once again renewed. Even Vance’s physical regime was expanded, all traces of fat now gone, paving a way for the muscles of his future years.
Even this, however, found its end. The old Epicanthix simply found himself to be ready for his next chapter, and after a heartfelt goodbye to his quasi-student, he retired as a Watchman to Alderaan. Admittedly a little sad to see him go, Vance would have “a week off” before he was shuffled to his fourth instructor; a lively Wroonian Artisan woman.
The Artisan was very upfront; she was crafting her masterpiece and could use a hand, provided that Vance was willing to learn. Since Vance had absolutely no issue with that particular will, he found himself practically living in the Artisan workshops on Coruscant. While the Wroonian surely taught him how to safely heat metal and customize a saber, he found himself learning more from the entire group of Artisans he met every day, as if he was the newest apprentice in a guild of craftsmen. Some days he and a Knight or two would be sent out for materials. Other days he would be charged with heavy lifting. Other days still he’d be taught to smooth edges, and then asked to do so for a few pieces involved with the next masterpiece.
This sparked his more creative appetites. Vance had never been particularly artistic, however the Artisans’ passion seemed to move him ever so little. As the Wroonian came to wonder about why he didn’t yet have a saber, she asked if he would like to build one. Taking the extra step, Vance agreed, but asked her how to make one from scratch.
The result was his very own platinum hilt, hand-made and totally original. He’d even learned how to solder the circuits (with some major help, of course). The only thing he lacked was the crystal; a bit that the Wroonian swore she would take him to Illum to find. As her masterpiece finished, however, she found herself far too caught up in the excitement of its creation, and quickly became less and less available. Finally reporting in to the Order, Vance would receive news of his fifth instructor and third official master by way of holomessage one morning as he tinkered with a faulty wire in the workshop.
VI
Vance’s final master turned out to be a wise, exotic Shadow woman of a species he’d barely even heard of. She would first meet him by finding him sulking down the halls, understandably demoralized by the idea of trading hands yet again. She, however, quickly bolstered back his motivations, and they set off to Illum with haste.
Vance could immediately tell that he liked this woman, as she proved very receptive to every question he flung at her. She proved to be more like an aunt than a master, treating him with a certain air of familiarity that very quickly set up a good friendship between the two. As they retrieved his crystal on Illum, she set him to work in a brand new field of training; sensing. Already having learned a basic amount about the practice from his time learning telekinesis (what one couldn’t sense, they couldn’t grasp), the female Shadow would keep him on the ice world for a month, making him come to associate the cold and spartan cots with days filled with sensing, hiding, seeking, sparring, and meditating. When his crystal was finally complete, their trip to the planet was ushered to an end with the first activation of his saber.
The Shadow and he traversed the galaxy more than he ever had with Shon Tul, though as months passed and the war began to escalate, the Shadow found herself going away for longer and longer. Finally Vance was left again at a Temple, this time on Taris, waiting long enough for the Order to officially renounce his master. Even though this time it was expected, the padawan still took it with a somber look and a heavy heart.
A new problem also arose. With the war only escalating (especially in terms of the Jedi on Taris), a replacement instructor, let alone master, became increasingly difficult to come by. As days ticked into weeks, and weeks into two whole months, Vance found himself celebrating his nineteenth birthday with an air of trepidation; it seemed to him and namely the people debating what to do with him that the only remaining option was for him to be admitted to one of the Corps.
Even as this decision remained unofficial. Vance was regardless set to work with Corp duties throughout Taris (of which there were many), his basic skills with machines becoming incredibly useful for the high-rise city.
VII
It was only with a faulty wire that Vance would find himself waking up one day in the lower levels of Taris, buried by the debris of a building he had been working in. After a repair job for the ventilation system had gone awry, the padawan had inadvertently caused an explosion that had rocked both the tower and the subterranean rakghoul nests nearby. It was only by a stroke of fate (or a cruel twist; he wouldn’t be quite sure which) that an Arkanian woman with two red sabers would find him and dig him out, protecting him from the circling rakghouls and carrying him to her ship. After a serum for both of them and a spell in a kolto tank to heal, the young Jedi would find himself naked, off-world, and in the debt of one Darth Novus.
Needless to say, this is where things got interesting.
Roleplay Sample: Taris was hardly a place for scholars that weren’t craving ancient tomes of forbidden knowledge, but regardless, it could successfully claim to hold one today. In a dark, ominous temple on a particularly arid, sandy day, the claimant would be found in the Archives, still amazed by their existence.
Honestly. Who would have thought that the Sith had Archives?
But to Vance, that fact raised far more questions than it answered. Where had all of this knowledge come from? Was it stolen? Plagiarized? The recreated knowledge of an Order abandoned by power-hungry lunatics? Or was it original? The results of sick experiments and dastardly histories that the Jedi would rather forget?
... maybe it’s normal though. Well, as “normal” as a library about the Force in a cult temple in a desert on an infamous world could be.
But what if it was simply just basic knowledge? What if it was theories on the Force, and histories on Tython and Coruscant, and histories of wars and past Jedi (and, he supposed, past Sith), and instructions on how to build a saber, and instructions on where to find crystals?
… if it was such basic knowledge, did it deserve to be there?
Vance sighed. This was all far too metaphysical for him today. He’d found this place in an admittedly moot attempt at refuge; he’d hoped that it would remind him of the Archives back home on Coruscant. What’d he found instead was… well, exactly what he’d looked for. The Sith Archives looked almost identical to their Jedi counterparts, giving an eerie, almost spine-shivering sense of familiarity and sameness. A small part of him had hoped to… he didn’t know. Find something that would help draw the line in the sand a little bolder, not make it fainter.
Because Force knew that he could use something to be certain of these days.
But no. He just… needed a breather. Closing his eyes and taking a good minute to clear his head, the young man would slowly take deep breaths. His hand placed down the holopad he was reading, softly flexing and stretching his fingers. He focused on the air, the table, the chair… what was right there in front of him, plain as day.
Finally he opened his eyes. There was a holopad. There was a Temple. There was an Archive. Where that holo had come from or how that Temple had gotten there or how that Archive had been formed were… mysteries to him. Mysteries he would solve, surely, but… not right now. At the very least, not this very second.
... maybe I can find out in the Archives. Now there was an idea. Standing, he picked up his small stack of holos and took one more deep breath before retreating, disappearing behind walls of knowledge.
