Chapter 1: Humble Beginnings

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A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away.

Narrator: A galaxy divided! After the battle of Geonosis, Count Dooku's droid army has seized control of the major hyperspace lanes, separating the Republic from the majority of the clone army. With few clones available, the Jedi cannot gain a foothold in the outer rim as more and more planets choose to join Dooku's Separatists. Many clone garrisons are all that now stand in the way of those who do not want to join this new confederation. One of these planets is Reach, home to the Sinoviet Heavy Machinery, a shipwright company in the Terrain sector. Currently home to the secret Sabre program, the product of which is hoped to lead the way in the latest fighter for the Republic, a promising target for any Separatist task force.

The blue and green jewel of the Epsilon Eridani system lay within a field of stars. Space stations surrounded by various shipyards ring the planet's orbit, many relics of wars long past. Down past the stations lay a city a few miles from the planet's republic outpost of unknown use to the inhabitants. Though, within that city is a small home in a densely packed part of a housing district. Looking within the window of the second floor, one could spot the sleeping visage of a young man and a waking astromech as its optic came to life.

R4-L7: Beeeee-boop.

The Astromech sounded off and extends its third tread, moving over to the young man's bedside. Rolling over in annoyance with a weary groan, the human ignores his droid's loud beeps and whistles, muttering softly in a hazy mutter.

Jerome: Five more minutes.

He said, however, the droid released a low whistle, moving back and opening one of its many compartments. A tiny electric prong extending out from its body and zaps the older boy. Responding in kind, the human jumps up and falls out of bed in a confused heap from a rude awakening.

Jerome: R4!

The young man yelled out as the Astromech squealed, turning tail and speeding over to a small lift by the stairs, nearly escaping his master's sweeping arm. Quickly locking in, R4 let out a flurry of whistles and beeps before descending. As for the young man, many knowing him as Jerome Cooper, groans as he sits up and rubs his head.

Jerome: Asshole.

The older teen muttered, stumbling to his feet, tossing the sheets back haphazardly atop the bed. Stretching as Jerome rounded his bed, he opened up his closet. Inside lay a small selection of clothing, among them, he pulled out an old worn jacket with long 'tailing' cloth of the same material that fell around his mid-calf. The jacket parted at his waist and in a smaller capacity in the back, starting around his mid-thigh. All of which was a dull black with gray accents. Along with the coat, he pulled out a black undershirt, grey work pants, and a pair of combat boots.

Taking a few minutes to get put together, he moved to the mirror that sat wall length on the closet door's backside. The man's bright emerald eyes stared up as he haphazardly combed his motley dark hair to the side. Grumbling after several failed attempts to fix up some of it in the back, till giving up and making his way down the stairs, whereupon R4 sat waiting for him. Jerome flashed the droid a light glare as he passed.

Jerome: Was that needed?

He said, rubbing his sore arm as R4 extended his lighter, lighting it before popping it back in for a crude imitation of a organics thumbs up, which didn't seem to amuse his master much.

Jerome: You're horrible.

He said with a shake of his head. Jerome stopped though as R4 came up and lightly bumped him in response with a low whine. Relenting with a sigh, he patted the top of his droid's head with a small smile creeping across it.

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