Hail, all! This idea has been in my head for a while now, and I decided to get it down on (paper). This first chapter is fairly long, and I do believe that I've gotten all of the spelling/grammar errors out.
I hope you enjoy:
Chapter I
The grand arches that were so numerous throughout the Jedi Temple served the dual purposes of making the cavernous halls of the Temple seem larger, more spacious, and to allow the 'natural' sunlight reflected from Coruscant Prime. The beams of light reflected off of the walls and pillars of the Jedi Temple, casting light wherever it dared, of which most were shades of green and blue.
Jedi Knight Jordan Alethea walked briskly along the marble paths of the Temple. Various other Jedi followed this enormous path, which stretched from one end of the Order's sanctuary to the other. Numerous other paths intersected and branched off of this main 'vein,' making it the hub of the Jedi Temple.
Deciding to alter the course of his perambulation, Alethea's feet carried him along a path he had long since memorized, his destination being a favorite meditative spot of his. Reaching into one of his mahogany robe's hidden pockets, the Jedi produced a round sphere, no larger than his fist. Its red skin glowing in the diminishing sunlight, Jordan sank his teeth into its flesh, which was stretched taut over its moist interior. Chewing slowly, the Knight savored the fruit's unique succulence. It was rare for one to find such a treat on Coruscant, the planet's nobility consuming most of the imported delicacies for themselves (this particular fruit was allotted no room to grow in the Jedi Temple's immense gardens).
Turning onto a corridor lined with a thin red carpet (this hallway, in specific, was relatively rarely used, the adjacent passage being favored due to its shorter length), Alethea continued until he reached the corner, an area in which two large window panes were conjoined, exhibiting a most exquisite view of the Temple Precinct, Coruscant's sun setting in the horizon, illuminating the ecumenopolis so that the cityscape glittered like a rare gem.
For quite some time, the Jedi stared vacantly out the window, his weight being supported by his right shoulder, which was, in turn, leaning on a pillar. During his time, Alethea watched the setting sun, its radiance in turn replaced by the luminous glow from the towering structures of Coruscant, many rising hundreds of meters into the sky.
It was an hour past sunset, Alethea estimated, when he heard footsteps, slowing in an all too familiar pattern when the owner had come within reasonably audible distance. Jedi Master Monroe Wilson spoke softly, his voice being one of the rare ones that could calm even an ill-tempered Gammorean.
"It is not your fault, young one." The old man's white hair hung just above his weathered, brown eyes. He stood perfectly straight, as opposed to the many seventy-five year old men and women whose backs had long since hunched over. "Kuaile's joining with the Force was not your fault, Alethea."
Refusing to make eye contact, Jordan queried, "If not my fault, who does the blame belong to?"
Turning to face the same window that his former Padawan now gazed out of, Master Wilson, in a rather Jedi-esque tone, responded, "Perhaps this situation is not one of guilt and innocence, but of learning and acknowledgment?"
When no response was to be had, the two Jedi continued their thoughtful stares, each searching for some meaning in the illuminated landscape that they called home. Then, curiosity getting the better of the elder Jedi, he nodded in the general direction of Alethea’s fruit. “What is that fruit, Jordan? I’ve never seen it before.”
Chuckling lightly, the Knight’s brief moment of elation vanished, a sour mood once more holding sway over his thoughts. "It's called an apple, Master. From what I know, it’s only grown on Naboo and a few other agricultural planets. I was fortunate enough to find one on my treks through the city.”
After an unknown amount of time passed, the Master rose from the squatting positions that he had assumed, his sandy-brown robe falling perfectly in place, despite being crumpled for upwards of an hour. "The High Council requires your presence at during the next meeting, Jordan."
Grunting his acknowledgment, Alethea took no notice of his Master leaving, or of when his body rose on its own, and began the long, arduous march towards the High Council's spire.
* * *
Ascending the Jedi Temple's tallest spire in a score of seconds, Jordan's body experienced an exponential increase in weight as gravity once more took hold, signifying the rapid deceleration of the elevator used to access the Jedi Order's High Council.
Moving from his window-side position, Alethea turned to face the entrance to the High Council's rotunda. Now completely finished its ascent, the elevator's doors hissed open, revealing the Jedi Order's leaders. Turning his gaze towards the Council, the Knight was pleased to see that another Jedi (whom he recognized as Master Duoda, recently having returned from a successful mission that involved foiling a plot of corrupt nobles in an attempt to overthrow the leadership of a planet in the Mid Rim) leaving at the precise moment that he was entering.
Only once Duoda had left did the Council members even contemplate speaking. The first comment was a crass one from Master Koorv. "You're late."
Alethea scoffed, then gestured at the elevator, adding a sort of dramatic effect to his remark. "It seemed as though I was right on time."
Located in their semi-circular, sumptuous seats were five Jedi Masters- each the ones that had sworn their entire lives to helping the Order. Missing from the tower, however, were the seven remaining Council members. Jordan began to ponder about their whereabouts, when his train of thought was interrupted.
The Grand Master himself took over the conversation, his unique style of speaking instantly drawing the room's attention. "Jedi Knight Alethea, questions we have for you!" Master Yoda began, his green, wrinkled ears moving slightly in order to pick up the most sound. "On your previous mission, Padawan Kuaile, killed, she was?"
Though a rhetorical question, the query had the same effect, nonetheless. Slumping from his previously perfect posture, Alethea's breathing became labored, his chest heaving with each effort to respire. Always eager to pounce on Jordan, it seemed, Master Koorv began, "There is no emotion..."
Snorting, Alethea shot back, "There is emotion, Koorv, and you know it. Denying it would be to deny the fact that a human must draw breath in order to survive."
Holding his aged hand to cut his fellow Council member off, Koorv stopped just as he drew air to continue the debate. Master Wilson, instead, carried on the discussion. "Patrons of philosophy though we are, this is neither the time nor the place to conduct such a matter." Then, gesturing at his former Padawan, "Please, Jordan, continue."
Taking a deep breath of the cool, clean air that was filtered in from outside the Temple to clear his raging, rampant thoughts, it was a full minute before the only Knight in High Council spire spoke. "As you all are fully aware of, my Padawan and I were assigned to investigate a series of assassination attempts on Governor Nanren of Brentaal IV.
"Upon arriving in-system, Kuaile and I interviewed the Governor and other politicians of the system in order to ascertain the reason behind the nearly-successful attempts. For nearly a week, we were met with dead ends, until the Senator of Brentaal IV was nearly shot. We were, at the time, interviewing him. Padawan Kuaile was fast enough to... intercept the shots."
Alas, the Knight could go on no longer. His voice cracked, and he began to sob uncontrollably, the tears streaming down his face and staining his robe's fabric dark. His faced flushed red, for recounting the death of his Padawan of two years was not easy by any standard.
When, at last, Jordan had regained his composure, he began again, his voice filled with despondency. "It would later be determined that a group of hired mercenaries were responsible for the assassination attempts. They were hunted down and arrested by the Brentaal Sector's security force."
Finished, at long last, Alethea exhaled loudly, earning a scowl from Koorv. Master Wilson nodded slightly to Yoda, who, in turn, began a new conversation. “Twofold, our reasons were to call you here. First, a new mission we have for you!"
Master Wilson took over now, using slight gesticulations for emphasis. "Here, on Coruscant, Senator Jacobs of Kuat was killed last night. The current investigators are baffled as to the nature of the murder, and have requested Jedi assistance in this matter."
Taking command of the conversation, Yoda vociferated, "Secondly, a new partner we have for you! Lost her master, Jedi Knight Tara Mei recently did. In the best interest of both you, the Council finds it, that you are to be paired together."
Nodding his acceptance, Alethea bowed deeply. "As you wish, Masters. I shall depart in the morn."
Turning his back to the Council, Jordan the elevator doors parted as the Knight drew near. Entering, he took note of his Master beginning the age old adage of the Order. "May the Force be with you, Alethea."
Before he could respond, however, the doors shut, and the elevator began its long descent into the shady depths of Coruscant.
An interesting story, Lit!
Much anger there is, in that one, possibly?
I can't see very much wrong with it, and I liked the story - I look forward to reading the next parts!
AK.
All in all, it's a solid start, but I can't really say much more. Story thus far sounds a little trite, but it's well written. Since I'm a crazy fan of backstories, I wonder what Kuaile was like and about her relationship with Jordan. Nanren certainly leaves no doubt as to his gender >.> I've already acknowledged various flourishes that I like and nitpicked, but I don't think that I mentioned how I like the last sentence, Dramatic, but I hate to tell you that Coruscant would be massively light polluted;o All in all, could use polishing or a nitpicky beta, but style is good (far better than I could have written at your age) and sounds like political intrigue is in the wings, waiting for its cue. Keep it up!