Jedi drop-out extraordinaire
Name: Miner Va
Jedi drop-out extraordinaire
Classes: Scout 1, Jedi 1
Height: 1.7 meters
Weight: 71 kg
12, 10, 12, 14, 15, 12
Hit Points Total: 36
Hit Points Current: 36
Damage Threshold: 14
Dark Side: 0
Base Attack: +1
Force Points: 6
FORT: 10 + 2 + 1 + 1 = 14
REF: 10 + 2 + 2 + 2 = 16
WILL: 10 + 2 + 1 + 1 = 14
- Blaster Pistol, 3d6 damage, 2d6 stun, 20 squares with no penalty
- Blaster Rifle, 3d8 damage, 2d8 stun, 30 squares with no penalty
- Stun Baton, 1d6 damage, 2d6 stun
- Stun Grenades x4, 4d6 stun, 6 squares with no penalty
- Endurance: Force March, Hold Breath, Ignore Hunger, Ignore Thirst, Run, Sleep in Armor, Swim/Tread Water
- Initiative: Start Battle, Avoid Feint
- Jump: Long Jump, High Jump, Jump Down
- Mechanics: Disable Device, Handle Explosives, Jury-Rig, Modify Droid, Recharge Shields, Regulate Power, Repair Droid, Repair Object
- Perception: Avoid Surprise, Eavesdrop, Hear Distant or Ambient Noise, Notice Targets, Search, Sense Deception, Sense Influence
- Stealth: Sneak,Conceal Item, Create a Diversion to Hide, Pick Pocket, Sleight of Hand, Snipe
- Use the Force: Activate Force Power, Force Trance, Move Light Object, Search Your Feelings, Sense Force, Sense Surroundings, Telepathy
- Improved Stealth: may re-roll any Stealth check, must accept new result
- Clear Mind: may re-roll an opposed Use the Force check to avoid detection by other Force users, must accept new result
- Weapon Proficiency (Pistols, Rifles, Simple Weapons, Lightsabers)
- Force Sensitive
- Force Training
- Force Stun x1
- Mind Trick x1
- Surge x1
Languages: Basic, Bothese
Base Speed 6 squares
Bonus Trained Class Skill
- Synthetic Flesh
1 Binder Cuffs
1 Field Kit
- 2 Condensing Canteens with built-in water purification
- 1 Sunshield Roll
- 12 Emergency Ration Packs
- 2 Glow Rods
- 2 Breath Masks
- 24 Filters
- 12 Atmosphere Canisters
- All-Temperature Cloak
Carrying Capacity: 72 kg
The problem with Sith – the real problem, beyond all that dark and evil masters behind the scenes malarkey – is their tendency to propagate without end. Everyone has heard about their one rule of course: There May Only Ever Be Two Sith At Any One Time. But frankly that’s a load of crap. First of all they are a bunch of unquestionably evil dudes and don’t care about breaking rules, some practically live for it, so there isn’t much hope for that to not happen. And second is the whole idea that every Sith Master must have a Sith Apprentice. Think about that for a second. And think about how Sith are supposed to always keep out of sight, maneuver matters of importance from behind the scenes. Sith are secret, potentially even from each other.
Say you’re a Sith, an Apprentice to start with, and you want to become a Master. Perfectly natural thing to want really. All you have to do is kill your master and find someone to train. Your master expects this of course, but he’s getting on in years anyway, it’s really time for him to step down and he surely knows it. So that all is a foregone conclusion, and you might as well snatch up your Apprentice-to-be now if a promising one happens along. You do so, and you tell him that you are a Sith Master (a minor technicality) and that he will be your Sith Apprentice. And that someday, he will become a Master when he kills you and finds himself an Apprentice. It’s a very proud tradition.
Say you’re a Sith Master. Obviously your Apprentice is planning to kill you, but the constant threats to your life keeps you feeling young and the failures only inspire him to train harder. Someday he might even do the deed, but he’ll have to really work for it. And it’s not like you would kill him for perpetrating these attacks, provided they are orchestrated cleverly enough to amuse you. It’s a very proud tradition. But just in case you do happen to slice off his head or something, perhaps if he is ever stupid enough to try a brazen frontal attack, you always have a few backup potential Apprentices. You might even introduce them to each other, have them fight over some trivial matter and then the survivor will become your true Apprentice. You always knew he (or she) would be.
All this should lead any casual thinker to believe that every planet that has ever been visited by a Sith of any kind has probably got at least one Sith now living on it. And that’s not even counting the people out there who start calling themselves Sith because they believe no living ones remain. With Apprentices scouting for potential talent, and Masters too, and all of them “forgetting” to mention that there are other Sith out there, it must be so. Which brings us to Muse.
Muse had been a self-styled Sith Master for going on fifteen years now. His Master had died in a freak accident on a windswept planet of purple sand, Muse didn’t know much more than that, and so now Muse considered himself the one true Sith Master by default. (What Muse didn’t know of course was that the freak accident had been anything but, and that his Master had been killed by her Master. Follow the chain up a few times and you might even find a True Sith somewhere in all that mess of Sith devotees.) He had to carry on the tradition after all, and that meant he needed an Apprentice. He had tried teaching a few over those fifteen years, but they all tried to kill him at some point or another because they thought they were ready. Muse could remember being so young and foolhardy, but that didn’t mean he was merciful to them, even if he sometimes regretted it later when he had to clean up the body and find yet another Apprentice.
So it was that, on a night fifteen years to the day that Muse had become a Sith Master by accident, he met his newest Apprentice by accident as well. Muse had been living (very cleverly, he imagined) only a few blocks away from the grand Jedi temple, where all younglings in the earliest stages of training live and learn the Jedi way. Always hide where they least expect you was his motto, and Muse was very good at hiding. His identity was that of a tea-stand worker, he could roll his little cart around and sell cups of perfectly brewed tea – one of Muse’s other talents as it happened – and hear many interesting things from the high political leaders that he served. Once, he had even served tea to Senator Palpatine! What a charming old gentleman, they didn’t make men like that anymore. Anyway, Muse was sure that this tea-stand career would put him in the perfect position to some day act on the knowledge he had gleaned and enact some really sweeping changes … or something very Sith-like anyway.
Muse was closing down his stand for the night when a small Human boy with a downcast expression walked by without looking up from the ground. Muse stopped to stare at the boy. Never had he seen such a sad face. Feeling bad for the boy he called out to him.
“Boy! Where are you going boy?”
The boy looked at him slowly, thought for a moment and then answered, “I don’t know grandfather.”
“Grandfather!?” Muse gurgled as if in pain, hyperventilating slightly, “I doubt I’m more than thirty years your senior boy! Leave if all you plan on doing is insulting me!”
“Oh.” The boy looked down at the ground again, “Sorry.” And he began to walk away again. Muse couldn’t help thinking the boy looked sad enough to throw himself in the canals, and for all that he was Muse still didn’t want that on his conscience. He sighed and put out a beckoning hand.
“Boy, come back here.” The boy turned, but kept looking at the ground. “Boy, uh … how about a nice cup of tea to warm you up? On the house, since I was closing anyway.” The boy thought for another long moment, then nodded slowly. As the child carefully sat at his stand, in a very polite and dignified manner for such a young child Muse thought, Muse asked the fateful question. “So boy, what brings you to my stand this night?” It was a very simple question really, one that had opened many a floodgate of information before for Muse, and this time was no different in that regard.
The boy was named Miner Va and he was in trouble. It had all started years ago when he was picked up by Jedi recruiters as a child with promising talent. Muse’s ears perked up at this. Miner was taken from his parents like all promising children, and since then had been living at the Temple learning about quietness and discipline … but Miner wasn’t very good at those things. Miner had wanted to play and run and laugh and nap and shout and everything else that was completely antithetical to the basic meditative training young Jedi-potentials are required to master. And it didn’t help that Jedi Limnt, the children’s day trainer, didn’t understand at all. Miner was sure that old Limnt hated him and him alone, for some reason that Miner couldn’t understand. Muse’s ears perked up even more. Maybe from the time Miner had accidentally hit Limnt in the eye with a ball? Or the time a mouse that Miner was keeping got loose and ran up Limnt’s leg? Or how when Limnt was running after Miner one day he fell and twisted an ankle? Or any number of other instances really.
And so Miner was in training but deeply unsure if he could succeed. He had worried many a time that you would fail at Jedi training, make some mistake so unforgivable that they would throw you out. It wasn’t known to happen, but it must be possible. And so when old Limnt had given all the children a special test, Miner had tried very hard to succeed. The test was simple: care for an egg. Jedi children are very dexterous as it happens, and so this was considered by all the children a very easy test. Many left the classroom balancing the eggs on their heads, or on the tips of their noses, or on the ends of straws they held in their mouths. A Jedi child can do this for hours at a time. Miner though held his carefully in both of his hands and swore to himself that no harm would come to this egg. But later that night he forgot what he was doing and accidentally crushed the egg between his hands while struggling to eat dinner without them.
This, Miner decided, was proof that he shouldn’t become a Jedi after all. He loved the Jedi Order with all his heart and all the good that they did across the galaxy, but there was no way he could be good enough to join them if he couldn’t even protect a little egg. (What he didn’t know of course was that the point of the test was to teach the children a lesson. Most broke their eggs that night, and so arrived for training the next day worried but ready to face their punishment. And so Limnt explained to them: A Jedi protects, but a Jedi can not protect too much or too little. Those who showed off by balancing their eggs had been negligent, and those who held the egg in both hands were overprotective.) And so Miner had snuck out and was now going back to his homeworld, somehow, to become a farmer or whatever failed Jedi do.
The tea was all gone now, and Miner’s story was done. He waited for the old man to laugh, or make fun of him, or tell him to leave. But Muse did not do those things, he only looked at the boy and considered. The boy was Sith material, no doubt about it, definitely falling to the dark side with every passing breath. Wild, emotional, with a healthy dose of fear and most likely a little wrath buried behind it. And already half trained, making it all the easier! But what could Muse do? Surely the Jedi had told the boy of Sith, taught him to fear and battle them as they well should, so he couldn’t invite the boy to become a Sith just like that. Muse’s thoughts raced, and finally he struck upon an idea.
“Boy, that was quite the story, more interesting than half the tales I hear on a daily basis. So in return, I’ll tell you a big secret. Okay?” The boy slowly nodded, and Muse smiled. “There is another Order. Only the top Jedi know of it, but one once told me when he had a little too much ‘tea’ to drink, if you know what I mean.” The boy shook his head, confused. “Well, trust me, this Order exists. They are called the Adjuncts, and their mission in life is to aid the Jedi in every endeavor, but from the shadows. After all, the Jedi must battle evil in the light of day where everyone can see their noble deeds, so who do you think battles evil in the night?” The boy’s eyes grew wide, and Muse nodded. “Not everyone can become an Adjunct, but when the Jedi find someone with potential they shun that child and treat them badly. The child is made to think that being a Jedi is impossible, and so the child leaves in the night.” Muse leaned forward and whispered dramatically, “And that is when the Adjuncts approach!”
The boy, startled up from his seat, nearly shouted, “Are you an Adjunct?”
Muse smiled, “Me? I am a simple tea-seller … but I happen to know a thing or two. Now tell me boy, if the Adjuncts indeed approach you, will you join them? Do you wish to serve the Jedi as an Adjunct, keeping forever to the shadows while setting them up to succeed?” The boy was already nodding but Muse continued, impassioned by his own brilliance, “I should warn you, it is not an easy path. Adjuncts do not get famous and powerful like a Jedi does, you do not become a hero.”
“I never wanted fame sir! I only wanted to help people!”
Muse nearly gagged on the boy’s naivety but hid it well, “And Adjuncts can never act like a Jedi either, you must seem like an ordinary and normal person at all times when not in service.”
“I was never very good at that stuff anyway! Please sir, make me an Adjunct!”
“And finally,” Muse paused to consider this last point, then continued, “Adjuncts do not get a light saber. The saber is an elegant weapon for a more civilized age, and of course signifies one as a Jedi.” And of course several of Muse’s failed Apprentices had lopped off their own heads by accident using the stupid things, which Muse wasn’t in any hurry to clean up again. “So no light sabers. Are you sure you still want to be an Adjunct boy?”
Miner summoned up all of his determination, squared his small shoulders and spoke from his heart of hearts, “Sir, all I ever wanted to do was become a Jedi. Not because of the light saber, or because Jedi become famous heroes, but because I think Jedi are the best people in all of known space. If I’m not good enough to become a Jedi myself, then all I want to do is become an Adjunct and help the Jedi do what they do.”
“Very good boy. Now I may only be a tea-seller, but I know this much at least. Go here in several hours time,” and Muse wrote down the address of his own apartment on a napkin and handed it to the boy, “and ask for the trainer. They will expect you.” The boy nodded with a big smile, and Muse couldn’t help wanting to grin a little himself. Instead he pointed a stern finger at the boy, “But remember boy. The path to becoming an Adjunct is tough, you will be trained harder than you thought possible and you will learn many secrets previously forbidden to you. The Adjunct Order has proud traditions all its own and you will be expected to learn them all. Even to be considered means that you are well qualified, but still you will be tested time and time again.” Finally Muse allowed himself a small smile, “Now go make a simple tea-seller proud and show them all what you are capable of.”
“Thank you grandfather, I will!” And with that the boy was gone in to the night, running with a renewed hope and vitality. Muse sighed, and looked at himself in the reflection of his datapad.
“How old do I look anyway?”
Muse did have a plan, even if he was making it up as he went. He would train the boy as a Sith, changing the words of this mantra and that saying as necessary from Sith to Adjunct. He would leave out the parts about killing one’s Master for now, and figured that keeping a lightsaber forbidden would keep the both of them safer in the long run. He would need to teach the boy how to mask his Force presence as soon as possible, in case the Jedi came looking for him, and also how to hide and escape more normal searchers. Eventually he would reveal to the boy his secret, but only after first revealing the true place of Sith and why everything the Jedi had taught him was founded on lies.
These plans changed only slightly when, a few days later, a rogue Jedi killed every Jedi and youngling to be found training at the Temple. Order 66 was enacted and across the galaxy Clone Troopers assigned to support Jedi instead turned on them, killing most or all of them, even as an accord was reached with the Trade Federation and peace finally returned to the galaxy. Miner went from being a runaway to a refugee almost overnight, and to Muse’s thinking the boy might be the last being alive with some claim to the now-destroyed Jedi Order. Should the boy be killed and the matter settled? Turned in for a reward? Kicked out on the street to keep Muse safe?
Two new factors came to focus that made Muse reconsider his momentary doubts and in the end take the boy in. The first was Muse himself beginning to change as he continued to interact with the boy. He had never thought of himself as lonely, in fact he considered himself immune to the condition, but he found that having the boy around made the days … different. Miner was like the son he had long ago given up on ever having in his efforts to fully immerse himself in the mysteries of the Force. And it helped that the boy showed a great spirit; even on learning that his beloved Jedi Order had been wiped out, Miner only mourned for a short time and then moved on. The boy showed great maturity Muse decided, or else great callousness, and either would be beneficial in his training.
The second was a realization Muse made about his own views of the Force. To his thinking, the Jedi and the Sith had always been like opposing forces, that of law and chaos. To oppose the Jedi Order, to be a Sith, had become a sort of purpose beyond simply helping himself or harming any other. And in fact, he realized, this had been his thinking all along. He had never wanted or needed much beyond what he had, and his public life as a tea-seller kept him both fed and personally fulfilled. His secret life as a Sith Master was important to him … but without the Jedi to oppose, what meaning was there in being a Sith?
So first, Muse formally adopted Miner as his son, taking great pains to make sure that the records of such things made it appear that the boy had been a street urchin of no consequence for some time prior to the Temple’s destruction. In the process, Muse discovered that this new Empire was made up of the same weak-willed pawns that had always provided Muse endless opportunities, and yet was far less kind and understanding. Muse approved of course, kindness was for the weak after all, but still he found himself occasionally looking back fondly on how much easier life had been before. And then, while training the boy during the day to serve tea alongside him – the boy needed to earn his keep after all – Muse also began the boy’s Adjunct training during the night.
“But Muse,” the boy asked one moonless night, “I thought the Adjuncts were created by the Jedi to serve the Order. Without them, what will I do as an Adjunct?”
“I too wondered that for a time, and so I consulted the most ancient texts concerning the Adjuncts creation.” As always when Muse made such grand proclamations, and much to his eternal amusement, the boy’s eyes widened with wonder. “And lo did I find a most sacred second purpose.” Muse paused for drama, and Miner nearly fell off his stool from leaning forward to hear. “Well, to make a long story short, the second purpose is to revive the Jedi Order if it was ever destroyed.”
“Revive the Jedi Order!?”
Miner shushed the boy and continued, “If the Order was destroyed for any reason, the Adjuncts would scatter like leaves on the wind throughout known space. Where they could, far away from their start one imagines, they would start up new Jedi Orders even while learning from the mistakes made previously. Having lived to support Jedi they would be the most capable of training a new line, and so in time the Jedi would be revived. That is what you must do someday, once you are fully trained as an Adjunct.”
This was now Muse’s plan, to reclaim his purpose as a Sith. If the boy became a Sith, so be it, the training would be successful by the goals of his previous planning. But if the boy could become this made-up Adjunct thing and go on to train a new Jedi Order … now that would be interesting! Muse would find another Sith Apprentice to train and a proud tradition would continue on as it had, and his line of Sith would wage eternal war against Miner’s line of Jedi in countless battles of law versus chaos. Muse found that he was quite content by the idea, especially since he would have spawned it all. Leaving something for the future, Muse decided, was a great purpose to have.