Name: Jayden ‘Jay’ Christenson
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Hair: Unkempt blonde, short but long at the same time.
Eyes: Deep, serious brown eyes.
Birth Place: Coruscant
Height: 6 foot even.
Current Rank: Pilot of the NR
Begin Log…
So… I don’t do this often. I don’t usually keep records of myself, nor do I write down my history. I just feel too much… well, pain. Since I’ve started already, I may as well finish, no matter how many unwanted memories come back to me.
It has been many years since that day. The day I lost everything. My family. Gone.
It was a cool, summer then in the floating cities of Coruscant. My family was a middle-class family, living a comfortable life occupying a three-bedroom apartment. My father was an engineer for the New Republic, and my mother was a housewife, helping women through births. My brother was my twin, and we were always up to no good, being the exact replicas of each other. We were always pulling pranks on our teachers and falling into bad rep with my parents.
Anyways, after graduating from High school, I went off to a Fighter Pilot school, and my brother, seemingly having an abundance of midichlorians, went off to the Jedi Academy. I left on my merry way, happy to be finally getting away from home. I have no idea why I didn’t have the same abundance of midichlorians, seeing as I was his twin brother. Anyways, a year into my training, we were allowed a one week break to do whatever we wished. I had been yearning since halfway in to go back and visit my family, so that is where I went.
Arriving back to my home planet, I felt rejuvenated, the year of Fighter School having drained me physically and mentally. Coruscant felt like it had never changed, the metal of the floating cities glinting in the sun. Hopping onto a floating taxi service, I was speedily whisked away to my former home. Approaching the door I knocked, before entering. I announced my arrival as a cheery “I’m home!!”
I stood in the doorway paralyzed, my suitcase falling to the ground with a thud. My eyes were full of fear and disbelief, staring down at the scene before me.
Blood. There was so much of it. I seemed as though someone had taken a brush and sloppily painted the room in that horrible crimson color.
My parent’s bodies lay there in a heap, their faces pale. Their eyes were wide open in shock and pain, not to mention fear. Standing over them, a glowing lightsaber in his hand was none other than my twin brother, Jei. No one would have recognized him, but I did.
He stood there, a hooded black cloak veiling his face. Not enough to fool me, though. I knew whose eyes those were. He stood, fixated on the bodies of our parents. He had blood on his hands, probably from beating them into unconsciousness before killing them with his vile lightsaber. His brilliant blue eyes slowly rose from the murder, coming to rest on me, still standing stock still in the doorway.
He said that he had to, to have power. It was the only way, he said. He said that he knew I wouldn’t understand. He said so many things, all of them going in one ear and out the other.
My eyes, just previously filled with fear and disbelief, now were sharp with anger and hatred. I knew that Jei could kill me easily if he tried, but I wasn’t going to let him. I made it as though I had collapsed to my knees, while in actuality I had knelt in order to grab my laser pistol from my suitcase.
How naive he was. How un-informed of the powers of the Force. He didn’t even try to stop what happened next, for he was unable.
One shot. One sound. That’s all it took. Then it was over. My brother, his eyes mimicking my parents, now had a hole through his heart. He had not expected that. Either way, the emotions I felt would not go away. I don’t know why I did what I did. I grabbed my fallen brother’s lightsaber and started stabbing his dead body. I stabbed him. Over and over, relentless.
I didn’t notice, but I was being held back by someone. I thought I was struggling against myself. Finally, I was thrown backwards, my fit of rage effectively being dampened. The person who saved me from falling to my innermost feelings of loathing, and want to kill, was another Jedi.
He apologized about my family.
He said they tried to stop him. He said they knew he was turning to the Dark Side. He said that I didn’t do the right thing by killing him. He said I would have to go to trial for the murder of Jei. He said many things that I just didn’t care about.
My family was dead.
After that was all a haze. I remember a trial, which got dismissed. Then I cleaned and sold my former home. I ended up back at Fighter School, emotionless. People asked what happened, and all they ever got was a cold shoulder. I resumed my training exercises, becoming one of the top of my class, but that didn’t matter to me.
That’s when I met someone. She was a newer trainee, in her first year. Her name was Amy. She was so good that she was transferred to the second year students. She had flowing red hair, and striking chocolate-colored eyes.
Do you believe in love at first sight? I do. I fell in love with that young woman. I was, in essence, a phoenix, rising from the ashes of my past to become a proper human being once again. Things that seemed trivial before now had meaning, and I cried no longer.
It didn’t take long before we were close friends. She became my wing-woman, and we spent almost every waking moment with each other. We had a relationship. Lovers, boyfriend and girlfriend, call it what you will, we were in love.
Then that day came, two years after I had met her. We were out on another routine training mission. We were to have a mock dogfight with fake Looters. We were to protect the disabled ship they were looting from. As we approached, everyone in the squadron was relaxed, thinking it was another routine training mission.
Oh how wrong we were.
The order was sent to break formation and begin training operation ‘Save the Day’. Myself and Amy broke off from the squadron, circling around, out of the imaginary sensor line for the Looter’s ships. We conversed playfully with each other, turning to the private channels for a moment. Switching back we heard exactly what we didn’t want to hear.
‘Holy s**t! It’s an ambush! The training mission has been abandoned, switch to live fire and engage the e….’
The broadcast was shut off. Looking out to where the commander of the squadron was supposed to be positioned, I saw his ship, ablaze. Amy and I immediately switched to live fire, kicking up our engines and making a b-line towards where the skirmish was taking place.
The Imperials must have received some intel about the training mission. It’s the only way they could have ambushed us. By the time Amy and I arrived on scene, half of the trainee squad was gone. Pushing our emotions into the innermost regions of our mind, we attacked, immediately taking out one Tie Fighter a piece.
There were so many of them. Not only were we outnumbered, we were out-skilled. The pilots of those fighters were experienced, much more than our small training squad. Amy and I kept picking off their fighters, while half of the remaining trainees fled. All we could do was send out a distress call and hope our fleet would get to our position soon.
‘Star Base 13211, this is trainee squadron Theta. We are under attack from Imperial forces. We are in need of assistance’.
Then it happened. I had just spun around, following an elusive pilot. I saw Amy’s ship being fired upon. I immediately disengaged my target, and went to her aid. I wasn’t fast enough. The tie interceptor took her out, her ship falling apart in a mass of fire. I saw her looking at me as her ship tore apart. She was smiling and crying at the same time.
‘I love you’ is was the only transmission I heard from her ship before it disintegrated.
That’s when I felt it again. The worst feeling in the world. The feeling of pain. The feeling of being alone. It was worse this time, though. This time I had lost someone I truly loved. Someone I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I wanted to grow old with Amy.
Now it would never happen. Enraged, I viciously took out the tie interceptor that had killed my love. Then, in my rage, I took out three more fighters, before my ship’s engines were hit. My ship was crippled. I floated in space, helpless. I watched as most of the remaining trainees were killed relentlessly by the ten Imperial fighters that were left.
For a moment I sat there, reality taking its sweet a** time to sink in. I felt my chest constricting; my entire being was being imploded upon itself. Then I cried. Even though it didn’t ease the unbearable pain I was feeling. My tears floated inside my helmet, but I didn’t care. Once again I felt nothing except pain.
Through blurred eyes from the tears I saw the reinforcements. They came too late. There was only two of the trainee squad left, not including myself. They took out the Imperials quickly. They took me aboard and gave me a room, and left me alone. The whole night I was wide awake, huddling into a little ball, trying to will my pain away.
I couldn’t cry any more. The tears just stopped flowing. The next day I attended the funeral for my comrades and my love. I stood there saluting with everyone else, my face straight and serious, set in stone. After the ceremony I went to the mess hall. I sat alone. The food tasted like ashes. I looked around at the other soldiers of the NR. Everything was black and white.
I had been awarded a medal for bravery in the course of battle. I was told that I was the best trainee. I was told that I could join any ship I wanted. I was told many things, but ignored all of them. I left the New Republic promptly, at that moment not wishing to see any more lives lost.
Back on Coruscant, I contemplated killing myself. I sat on the bed in my hotel room, holding a knife in my hands. So beautiful it was. Oh, but how deadly a weapon it could be. After hours of sitting there, unmoving, I set the knife on the bedside table, leaving the decision for another day.
Three days passed and I did not emerge from the hotel room. I ordered food once, and survived off that by picking at it.
A week passed. I had left the hotel six days ago. I now wandered Coruscant without direction. I thought to myself ‘what do I do now’? Then I passed a homeless person. He just lay there. I thought he was dead. He was. I looked at his body not with pity, but with fear. Fear of that happening to me. That was when I made my mind up. I made myself have a direction in life. I rejoined the New Republic as a fighter in the army, operating out of Coruscant. I returned to the only thing I knew. Kill or be killed.
I was offered a position at the head of a squadron, but denied it in favor for only having a wingman and being part of a squadron. And so, my new life began. I was back in the NR. I was part of a respectable fighter squad, and I was no longer alone.
All was good. For now...
End log…
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