The Errant Padawan

When nothing remains, everything is equally possible. Acelan opened his eyes in the pale light of the  morning sun, casting his gaze across the large field of parok melons, many newly ripened from his meditations, vines fresh and full of life. Only a few hours earlier this field was struggling to produce, no irrigation or fertilizers can help crops unsuited for some planetary conditions, often times it is the meditations of the healers that help them survive and thrive. The parok and the other fruits and vegetables grown on the agricultural world of Bunjon III are a vital to help feed the Republic. Many such worlds exist, Bunjon II and III in this system alone feed two billion. It was the purpose of the AgriCorps, a branch of the Jedi Service Corps, to grow and harvest the crops on the agricultural worlds. Acelan, stood up from his meditative stance and began walking back to the temple, it was time for breakfast. Though most healers eat breakfast before their mornings work, Acelan usua

When the way before you is not clear, let your actions be guided by the force. The cool ocean breeze blew through Aarik’s shoulder length blonde hair as he ran down the seashore. His lithe body was moving like a gualama across the pale sand; his white linen padawan robe blowing in the breeze and the small waves lapping at his feet. “There is one!” Aarik yelled, though he was the only one to hear it, running about fifteen meters he came upon what could be a perfect specimen. Picking up the shell Aarik examined it closely, white with pale grey spots like a snow nexu, Aarik thought to himself. No holes whatsoever, now this was a specimen worthy of adding to his collection. Aarik pulled out his data pad and scanned the shell, the instrument chirped and identified the shell as Concus Maculosus Magni. Aarik sat for a while and watched the small waves and the small Janta fishing boats much further out at sea. Aarik sensed the approaching Jedi coming towards him, he made no attempt to stand