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  1. In Memory of LAJ_FETT: Please share your remembrances and condolences HERE

Beyond - Legends Duty and Honor (AU; Jon, Lyska (OCs); mentions of Callista, L/M, Corran/Mirax, etc.)

Discussion in 'Fan Fiction- Before, Saga, and Beyond' started by Onderon1, May 20, 2011.

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  1. Onderon1

    Onderon1 Jedi Grand Master star 4

    Registered:
    Mar 18, 2008
    A/N: A short piece, but one I think is important in the overall Braddockverse reboot ... [face_thinking]

    A thematic sequel - and mirror to - Mater Miles:

    http://boards.theforce.net/beyond_the_saga/b10477/31699562/p1/

    DISCLAIMER: LFL's are LFL's. Marvel's are Marvel's. OCs are mine. This is a work of fiction. No money is being made off of this. Please don't sue.

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    39 ABY: Central Jedi Praxeum, Ossus, Outer Rim Territories:
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    05:30.

    It wasn't like an LCD went off inside Jon Skywalker-Horn's head. He just knew the time, and rose for morning PT.

    Well, that was what he called his morning routine. Cleanse, dress, do exercises, cleanse again, dress for class, breakfast, get to class.

    It was a stable, steadying rhythm to his life, and had been since he'd been born - albeit from a Spaarti cylinder that had accelerated his growth to 5 standard years of age, complete with Galactic Alliance military training.

    He got up, hit the sonic shower, and dressed in modest black swimshorts, a sleeveless shirt, and sturdy running shoes. Then, he headed for the backyard and its pool, mentally preparing for his morning workout - 30 laps in the pool, 50 sit-ups, 50 push-ups, and a 1-klick run around the compound.

    Something, though - gut instinct, the Force, whatever it was - made the boy stop in front of his mother's doorway.

    The door was half-shut, and strict discipline - his own, not imposed by Lyska - made Jon hesitate. At 13 standard years - or their equivalent, due to the growth acceleration - he was far past the age when he'd needed to go running to Mommy.

    But ... is she OK? Jon worried, running a hand through his self-imposed, military-buzzcut brown hair. He could sense his mother's unsettled feelings through the Force, and he reached out a hand to the door chime - if she needed him, he wanted to help.

    She'd always been there for him, risked her own life to have him ... been the one to explain about his father. Valin Horn had died at Jon's birth, dying as a hero, Mom had said.

    Jon didn't dispute that his father's strike against the Sith on Korriban was the act of a brave man. He also knew that the shock of his father's death had almost killed Mom. She'd diverted her very life-force to preserve Jon long enough for medics to transfer him to the Spaarti cylinder.

    Lyska Skywalker-Horn was a known quantity, and Jon's mother. Valin Horn was comparatively unknown - was confusing, and Jon didn't like confusing. Not for the first time, he felt frustrated about the dichotomy of his personality.

    The boot camp programming he'd been given during his growth acceleration by the Galactic Alliance Guard had produced a military outlook in the boy, but he was also just 13. Jon had never felt quite a Jedi, but neither had he ever felt rejected. His family - the Skywalkers and Solos, the Horns, Grandmother Callista - loved and accepted him, and Jon was grateful for that.

    Stop whimpering, soldier. Your mom needs you, Jon reminded himself, drawing himself to attention. He reached out and pressed the door chime, calling gently through the Force with reassurance.

    A half-minute later, the door opened, and Mom - in a robe - stood there, smiling almost with embarrassment. "I didn't wake you, did I, honey?" she said, reaching out and ruffling Jon's hair.

    "No, ma'am - Mom," Jon said, embarrassed at his slip. He still tended to call adults ma'am or sir instead of by "Mom," "Grandpa," "Grandma," and so on, and he didn't want to seem distant to the very people who cared so much for him.

    Mom just tilted her head, then nodded toward the kitchenette. "C'mon, your schedule can wait a few minutes. I'm not getting back to sleep now," she said.

    Jon sat with her at the table, letting his concern show as he would only for close relatives. "Are you OK? I woke up like I usually do, but I sensed ... you were hurt," he said.

    Mom looked
     
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