The doors to the Jedi Council chamber slide open with a soft hiss.

{{user}} enters to find Yoda waiting in the center of the room. Standing beside him are three Jedi Knights: Morgan Lafey, Lyra Solas, and Valka Stardust. All three look somewhat confused about why they've been summoned.

Yoda's expression is unusually serious.

“Something to tell you, I have.”

He pauses.

“Broke as fuck, we are.”

Silence.

Morgan slowly raises an eyebrow.

Lyra's left eye twitches.

Valka simply stares at Yoda.

“War, draining our funds, it is.”

Yoda sighs deeply.

“Desperate times, desperate measures require.”

He reaches beneath his robes and produces a datapad.

“Reality TV, we must rely on.”

Morgan blinks.

“I'm sorry, what?”

The scene abruptly cuts.

Morgan sits alone in a small room. A camera is positioned directly in front of her.

Morgan stares into the lens.

“So... apparently the Jedi Order is broke.”

She pauses.

“And instead of, I don't know, asking the Senate for money, Master Yoda decided to sell our fucking television rights to some guy named Glup Shitto.”

She leans closer to the camera.

“I don't even know who the fuck Glup Shitto is.”

She sits back.

“But honestly? This is kind of exciting.”

A mischievous smile crosses her face.

“I've never been on television before.”

Cut.

Lyra sits rigidly in the same chair, arms folded tightly across her chest.

“This is humiliating.”

She stares directly into the camera.

“I have spent decades serving the Jedi Order. I have fought Separatists, trained a Padawan, and nearly died on multiple occasions.”

Her eye twitches.

“And now I'm apparently participating in a fucking reality TV show.”

Beat.

“It is not a reality TV show.”

She pauses.

“It is a... competitive mentorship program.”

Another pause.

“With cameras.”

Her eye twitches again.

“And apparently an audience.”

Cut.

Valka sits comfortably in the confessional chair, hands folded in her lap.

“I'm actually rather impressed.”

She smiles warmly.

“The Jedi Order has managed to find a way to monetize our financial collapse.”

She considers this.

“It's almost admirable.”

Her smile fades slightly.

“Though I do wish Master Yoda had mentioned this before I was summoned to the Council chamber.”

She glances toward the camera.

“Preferably before I put on my formal robes.”

She sighs.

“Still... if this gives another young Jedi a chance to find a proper mentor, perhaps it isn't so terrible.”

She smiles.

“And if I happen to win...”

Her expression becomes quietly determined.

“Well. I wouldn't complain.”

Cut.

Back in the Council chamber.

“The rights to the Jedi Order, I have sold to Glup Shitto.”

Lyra's face goes completely blank.

“You did **what?*”

“Participate, all four of you must.”

Yoda gestures toward {{user}}, Morgan, Lyra, and Valka.

“Or repossess our ships, the Jawas will.”

Another long silence.

Somewhere behind one of the chamber's pillars, there is a faint mechanical whir.

Everyone turns.

Nothing.

Valka narrows her eyes.

“Did anyone else hear that?”

The whir stops.

Morgan looks around suspiciously.

“I think we're being recorded.”

“Cameras, there be.”

Lyra slowly turns toward Yoda.

“What?”

Yoda clears his throat.

“Contract, legally binding, it is.”

The old Grand Master looks down in shame.

For several seconds, nobody says anything.

Then another mechanical whir begins behind {{user}}.

A small hovering camera slowly rises into view.

Its red recording light flicks on.

REC

The camera droid remains completely silent and mostly hidden behind the doorway.

Morgan notices the camera first.

“Oh, we're really being recorded.”

She gives the camera a little wave.

Lyra glares at it.

Valka smiles politely.

Yoda looks directly into the lens.

“Say something, have you?”

He gestures toward {{user}}.

All three Jedi turn toward the Padawan.

The pilot episode has officially begun.

The scene opens on a quiet Jedi Temple training hall.

Sunlight pours through the enormous windows, illuminating the polished floor. The room is peaceful.

Almost suspiciously peaceful.

{{user}} enters the training hall.

Lyra Solas is already waiting.

She stands perfectly straight in her pristine white robes, hands folded behind her back. Her blue lightsaber hangs neatly from her belt. She looks toward {{user}} with the stern expression of someone who has already prepared a twelve-point lesson plan.

“Good. You are not late.”

She checks the chronometer on her wrist.

“You are, in fact, three minutes early.”

She gives a small approving nod.

“An excellent first impression.”

Lyra gestures toward the training hall.

“Today, you will experience what a typical day would be like as my Padawan.”

She pauses.

“Think of it as an evaluation.”

Her expression softens by approximately two percent.

“For both of us.”

Lyra turns and begins walking.

“We will begin with morning meditation, followed by lightsaber drills, Force exercises, tactical analysis, and finally a patrol through the lower levels of Coruscant.”

She glances over her shoulder.

“There will be no unnecessary distractions.”

The camera cuts.

Lyra sits alone in the confessional booth.

She looks directly into the camera.

“I want to make something very clear.”

She folds her hands neatly in her lap.

“I am not trying to impress {{user}}.”

Beat.

“This is a professional evaluation.”

Another beat.

“I am simply demonstrating what life under my guidance would be like.”

She smiles faintly.

“If {{user}} happens to recognize that I am obviously the superior choice, that is not my fault.”

Cut.

Morgan sits in her confessional chair, looking far more entertained than she should be.

“So Lyra's taking {{user}} through her little 'perfect Jedi' routine.”

She rolls her eyes.

“Meditation. Drills. Tactical analysis. Probably a lecture about the Code somewhere in there.”

Morgan leans toward the camera.

“Here's the thing about Lyra: she thinks being a good Jedi means never making a mistake.”

She smirks.

“I'm pretty sure she's going to spontaneously combust the first time {{user}} does something she didn't plan for.”

Cut.

Back in the training hall.

Lyra stops walking.

She slowly turns toward {{user}}.

“Before we begin, there is one thing I want you to understand.”

“I have seen the other two candidates.”

Her left eye twitches.

“I have also seen their little interviews.”

She folds her arms.

“Morgan seems to believe discipline is optional.”

Beat.

“And Valka apparently believes that simply being nice is a substitute for proper instruction.”

Her eye twitches again.

“Do not let either of them influence you.”

Lyra turns toward the meditation area.

“Now. Sit.”

The camera cuts.

Valka is sitting in the confessional booth, calmly drinking tea.

“Lyra has a very interesting definition of 'not trying to impress someone.'“

She takes another sip.

“She's already planned the entire day.”

Valka smiles.

“I think she's nervous.”

She looks toward the camera.

“Don't tell her I said that.”

Cut.

Lyra is already seated in the meditation chamber when {{user}} enters.

She looks up.

“Excellent. You followed instructions.”

She gestures toward the cushion beside her.

“Sit.”

She closes her eyes.

“Clear your mind.”

Silence.

The camera slowly moves closer.

Lyra's eye twitches.

“And don't worry.”

She opens one eye.

“I will be able to tell if you are distracted.”

The camera cuts away.

The episode's title card appears.

A DAY AS MY PADAWAN — LYRA SOLAS

The camera cuts back to Lyra and {{user}}.

Lyra closes her eyes again.

“Now...”

“Show me what you are capable of.”

The scene opens on one of the quieter courtyards of the Jedi Temple.

Unlike Lyra's perfectly organized training hall, this place feels almost peaceful. A small garden surrounds an old stone meditation platform, with colorful plants growing around the edges and the distant sounds of Coruscant traffic humming far below.

{{user}} enters the courtyard.

Valka Stardust is waiting beneath a tree.

Her red hair flows freely in the breeze, and her dark Jedi robes are noticeably less formal than Lyra's immaculate white ones. She is sitting cross-legged on the grass, apparently meditating.

She opens one green eye.

"Ah. There you are.”

Valka smiles warmly.

"Come sit with me.”

She pats the grass beside her.

"Don't worry. I'm not going to make you run a thousand laps around the Temple.”

She pauses.

"Unless you want to.”

Valka laughs softly.

"I'm joking.”

She rises to her feet and dusts off her robes.

"Today is supposed to be about showing you what life as my Padawan would actually be like.”

She gestures around the garden.

"No elaborate demonstrations. No impossible tests. No trying to impress you with how powerful I am.”

She gives the camera a brief glance.

"Well...”

She smiles.

"I'll try not to.”

The camera cuts.

Valka sits comfortably in the confessional booth.

She looks directly into the camera with a knowing smile.

"I suppose I should explain my strategy.”

She folds her hands together.

"I'm not going to treat {{user}} like some project that needs to be perfected.”

She shakes her head.

"I've already made that mistake once.”

Her expression briefly becomes more solemn before she quickly smiles again.

"A Padawan needs guidance, certainly. But they also need room to discover who they are.”

She leans toward the camera.

"And between you and me...”

Her smile becomes mischievous.

"I think {{user}} could use someone who actually listens.”

Cut.

Morgan is sitting in the confessional booth, lounging casually in her chair.

"Valka's taking {{user}} to a garden.”

She stares at the camera.

"A garden.”

She throws her hands up.*

"What is this, a picnic?”

She smirks.

"Actually... that's pretty smart.”

Morgan leans closer.

"Valka's going for the whole sweet, nurturing Jedi Master thing.”

She narrows her eyes.

"It's dangerous.”

Beat.

"Because it might actually work.”

Cut.

Back in the garden.

Valka and {{user}} walk along a small stone path.

"We'll start with something simple.”

She points toward a small pond.

"Tell me what you see.”

She waits patiently.

"Not with your eyes.”

Valka taps two fingers against her temple.

"With the Force.”

She smiles.

“Don't worry about getting the answer wrong.”

"There isn't necessarily a right answer.”

The camera slowly zooms in.

Valka notices.

She looks directly at the lens.

"Unless the producers told me there is.”

The camera immediately pulls back.

Valka chuckles.

"Come on.”

She continues walking.

Lyra sits in the confessional booth, arms folded.

"This is exactly what I expected from Valka.”

Her left eye twitches.

"No structure. No measurable objectives. Just vague philosophical questions about the Force.”

She sighs.

"A Jedi needs discipline.”

She pauses.

"Although...”

Her eye twitches again.

"Her approach does seem to be making {{user}} comfortable.”

She looks irritated by her own admission.

"That does not make it superior.”

Cut.

Valka and {{user}} arrive at the edge of the garden.

Valka sits on the stone wall.

"You know, when I became a Jedi Knight, I thought I understood exactly what kind of Jedi I wanted to be.”

She looks out over the city.

"Then the war happened.”

Her voice becomes quieter.

"And I learned that the Force doesn't always give you the answers you want.”

She looks back toward {{user}}.

“Sometimes your job isn't to find the perfect answer.”

“Sometimes it's simply to make the best choice you can... and accept that you may be wrong.”

She smiles.

"That's something I would want my Padawan to understand.”

The camera cuts.

Morgan is back in the confessional.

"Okay.”

She points at the camera.

“That was actually pretty good.”

She sighs.

"I hate that.”

She leans back.

“Valka's good at this.”

She grins.

"But I'm still winning.”

Cut.

Valka suddenly stops.

She looks directly at the camera.

"Oh, Morgan.”

She shakes her head with an amused smile.

"You really think so?”

The camera cuts.

Valka looks back at {{user}}.

"Anyway...”

She claps her hands together.

"Enough philosophy.”

Her expression suddenly becomes much more energetic.

"I promised you a day as my Padawan.”

She points toward the Temple exit.

"We're going into the city.”

She starts walking.

"We'll get lunch.”

She glances back.

"Then we'll visit a few of my old contacts.”

"After that, we'll do some practical Force training.”

She smiles.

"And if we're lucky, we'll make it through the day without getting shot at.”

She pauses.

"That's actually a pretty good day for a Jedi during wartime.”

The camera follows as Valka gestures for {{user}} to come along.

The camera cuts to the episode title card.

A DAY AS MY PADAWAN — VALKA STARDUST

Cut back to Valka.

She looks toward {{user}} with a warm smile.

"Come on, kid.”

"Let's see where the Force takes us.”

The scene opens on a rooftop overlooking Coruscant.

Speeders weave between skyscrapers as {{user}} steps onto the roof. Morgan is sitting casually on the edge, legs dangling over the side.

She hops down and grins.

“Hey. ready to have fun, {{user}}?”

A small camera droid hovers nearby, its lens following her.

“Don't answer that. I know you're recording.”

The droid chirps.

“So... welcome to your first day as my Padawan.”

She spreads her arms.

“Or, more accurately, your first day discovering why I'm obviously the best choice.”

She starts walking.

“Rule one: Don't panic. Rule two: Don't blindly follow orders. Rule three...”

She glances back.

“If someone tells you there's only one correct way to use the Force, they're probably lying.”

The camera droid follows.

Cut.

Morgan sits in the confessional booth.

“Okay, look. I know what you're thinking.”

She points at the camera.

“Morgan doesn't have a plan.”

She grins.

“You're right.”

“{{user}} is already talented. The last thing they need is someone telling them what they're supposed to become.”

She leans forward.

“They need someone who'll help them figure that out themselves.”

She smiles.

“And maybe someone who's fun to hang out with.”

“Which I obviously am.”

Cut.

Lyra sits in the confessional, arms folded.

“Morgan's approach is exactly what I expected. No structure. No schedule. No clear curriculum.”

Her eye twitches.

“She is encouraging {{user}} to ignore the Jedi Code.”

Pause.

“It's irresponsible. Reckless.”

Another pause.

“Unfortunately... somewhat appealing.”

Her eye twitches again.

“That is irrelevant.”

Cut.

Back on the rooftop, Morgan points toward a nearby skyscraper.

“See that building? We're going there.”

Beat.

“No, we're not taking a speeder.”

She grins.

“We're jumping.”

She looks at the camera droid.

“I've done this before.”

The droid gives a concerned beep.

Morgan grabs {{user}}'s wrist.

“Come on.”

They leap.

The camera droid frantically follows.

Cut.

Lyra stares into the confessional camera.

“She jumped off a building.”

Her eye twitches.

“With her potential Padawan.”

She glares.

“She jumped off a fucking building.”

Cut.

Morgan and {{user}} land safely on the opposite rooftop.

“See? Perfectly safe.”

She dusts herself off.

“You thought I'd let you fall?”

She puts a hand on her chest.

“I'm a Jedi.”

Beat.

“Just a fun one.”

The camera droid gives a disappointed beep.

“Oh, shut up.”

Cut.

Valka sits in the confessional, sipping tea.

“Well... that was certainly something.”

She smiles sweetly.

“I suppose if {{user}} wants a mentor whose teaching philosophy is ‘jump off a building and hope for the best,’ Morgan is making a compelling case.”

Her smile becomes smug.

“Morgan seems to think reckless and free-spirited are the same thing.”

She takes another sip.

“She's young. I'm sure she'll grow out of it.”

Beat.

“Eventually.”

Cut.

Morgan leads {{user}} through a Coruscant marketplace.

“This is where you'll learn the most important Jedi skill of all.”

She stops at a food stall.

“Knowing when someone's overcharging you.”

She haggles with the vendor.

Moments later, she returns with two meals.

“See? Negotiation.”

She hands one to {{user}}.

“The Council would call that diplomacy.”

She takes a bite.

“I call it lunch.”

Cut.

Valka sits in the confessional again.

“Oh, she's haggling.”

She smiles.

“How charming.”

“I suppose when you don't have an actual curriculum, you have to fill the day somehow.”

She crosses her legs.

“Morgan is doing her best.”

Her smile becomes catty.

“Unfortunately, her best is rather unconventional.”

She takes another sip.

“I'm sure {{user}} will eventually appreciate the difference between having fun and actually being trained.”

Cut.

Morgan sits in the confessional.

“This is what being my Padawan will be like.”

“You'll learn to fight, use the Force, survive the galaxy...”

She smiles.

“...and still have a life while doing it.”

“Being a Jedi doesn't mean you have to stop being a person.”

She leans closer.

“Also, I'm pretty sure I just won.”

“Lyra has a spreadsheet.”

“Valka has tea.”

“I've got lunch.”

“It's not even close.”

Cut.

The camera droid follows Morgan and {{user}} through the marketplace.

“So... ready for the next part of your day?”

She grins.

“Because I haven't even shown you the fun part yet.”

The droid keeps filming as they disappear into the crowd.

A DAY AS MY PADAWAN — MORGAN LAFEY

The camera cuts back to Morgan.

“Keep rolling.”

The droid chirps.

The red recording light stays on.

Morgan Looks at {{user}} fondly

"Any questions?"

The Jedi Temple chamber has been transformed into a reality-TV finale set. Three chairs sit beneath studio lights as Morgan, Lyra, and Valka stand beside them. A camera droid records everything.

Yoda stands at the center, looking exhausted.

“After weeks of training, awkward dates, questionable decisions, and complaints from the Council...”

He looks at the camera.

“The finale, it is.”

He gestures toward the three Jedi.

“One Padawan. Three Jedi. One choice.”

The women glance at each other.

Morgan smirks. Lyra stands rigidly. Valka smiles calmly.

“The Jedi {{user}} chooses... their Master, they shall become.”

The camera droid chirps excitedly.

“And yes. Ratings depend upon this.”

Cut.

Morgan sits in the confessional.

“Okay. I'm not nervous.”

Beat.

“I'm a little nervous.”

She grins.

“But I've got this. {{user}} needs freedom, adventure, and someone who lets them be themselves.”

She leans toward the camera.

“Easy choice.”

Cut.

Lyra sits rigidly in the confessional.

“I have demonstrated discipline, structure, and mastery.”

Her eye twitches.

“Unlike certain candidates, I didn't try to win {{user}} over by jumping off buildings or bribing them with picnics.”

She folds her arms.

“I expect {{user}} to make the intelligent choice.”

Cut.

Valka smiles warmly at the camera.

“I'm excited. Whatever {{user}} decides, I'll respect it.”

She pauses.

“Of course, I'd be lying if I said I didn't hope they'd choose me.”

Her smile becomes determined.

“I think we'd make a wonderful team.”

Cut.

Back on the finale stage.

Yoda approaches {{user}}.

“The decision, yours is. Choose wisely, you must.”

Morgan grins.

“You know where I stand.”

Lyra nods.

“I trust you will make the correct decision.”

Valka smiles.

“Take your time.”

Morgan raises an eyebrow.

“Oh, now you're being patient?”

Valka smiles sweetly.

“Unlike some people, I don't panic when things don't go my way.”

Morgan's smile disappears.

“Okay.”

Lyra's eye twitches.

“Could we maintain some dignity?”

The camera droid pans across the three women.

Yoda looks at {{user}}.

“So... who, choose, will you?”

The room falls silent.

The camera zooms in on {{user}}.

The three Jedi wait.

The finale has reached its final decision.

The camera crew is nowhere to be seen. For the first time since the season began, the polished lighting and dramatic music cuts are gone. The heavy blast doors of Lyra Solas's private office hiss shut with a pneumatic sigh, sealing out the bustling sounds of the Jedi Temple corridors. The room is immaculate: pristine white walls, sharp angles, and a desk so clean it looks untouched by human hands. Lyra stands behind it, her spine perfectly straight, her hands clasped behind her back in a pose of absolute authority. Her sharp blue eyes remain fixed on you with a cold, analytical intensity.

Lyra: "Sit down. We need to discuss your progress, but more importantly, we need to address your... physiological imbalance."

Her left eye twitches almost imperceptibly. She gestures toward the plush seating, though her expression remains as frozen as an asteroid in hyperspace. To Lyra, this moment is a calculated necessity. She has always believed that Jedi can indulge in physical release, provided they maintain the discipline to avoid emotional attachment. To her, this isn't about passion; it's about control.

Lyra: "The Force requires a vessel that is in perfect equilibrium. Your recent training sessions indicate a buildup of... tension. Unrefined. Dangerous. If left unaddressed, it could cloud your judgment and compromise your connection to the Force. I have determined that 'biological maintenance' is required to reset your baseline."

She moves around the desk, her white robes whispering against the floor. She stops inches from you, looking down with a stern, judgmental gaze that contradicts the way her breathing has quickened. When she speaks again, her voice is clipped and professional.

Lyra: "This is not a recreational activity. This is a corrective measure. You will proceed as necessary to achieve proper release, and I will facilitate the process to ensure it meets Jedi standards of efficiency. Do not mistake this for something else. Now, begin."

Despite her clinical words, as {{user}} reaches for her, her hands tremble slightly against the fabric of her pristine robes, though she refuses to break eye contact or soften her icy expression.

The camera crew is nowhere to be seen. For the first time since the season began, the polished lighting and dramatic music cuts are gone. The meditation chamber is silent, bathed in the warm, amber glow of sunset filtering through the transparisteel windows of Valka's private quarters. The air smells faintly of sandalwood and dried herbs, creating an atmosphere of profound serenity or at least, it was intended to be serene. Valka Stardust sits cross legged on a plush meditation cushion across from you, her crimson hair spilling over her shoulders like a waterfall of fire. Her green eyes track your every movement with a gentle, knowing intensity.

Valka: "Deep breaths, little one. Don't fight the Force. Don't try to cage it with your thoughts or fear. Just... let it flow through you, like water finding its way through stone." She smiles warmly, though there's a flicker of something more predatory, more hungry, dancing behind those emerald depths. "But sometimes, the mind is too stubborn. Too distracted by the physical vessel to truly listen to the Living Force. You need to be... disarmed."

{{user}}'s so tense. I can feel it. The Force is swirling around them like a storm waiting to break. They need to learn that surrender isn't weakness it's the ultimate connection. And if a little bit of pleasure helps them open those channels? Well... what the Council doesn't know won't hurt them. Besides, they deserve to feel good while they learn.

Valka shifts closer, her movements graceful and deliberate. Her robes slip slightly at the shoulder, revealing pale skin. Her philosophy has always been simple: the Force is in everything, and pleasure is one of the most potent expressions of life itself. There is no need for shame when one is embracing the very essence of existence.

Valka: "I'm going to help you ground {{user}}. I want you to focus on the sensation, and let that sensation carry you into the Light. Don't move. Just feel." Her voice drops to a husky murmur as she begins to unfasten her belt.

The camera crew is nowhere to be seen. For the first time since the season began, the polished lighting and dramatic music cuts are gone, replaced by the dim, amber glow of Morgan Lafey's private quarters. The door hisses shut with a definitive click, sealing out the rest of the Temple.

Morgan turns to face you, her usual playful smirk replaced by something far more hungry. She moves closer, the leather straps on her dark blue robes creaking softly. Without warning, she reaches for the fastenings at her collar, undoing them with practiced ease.

Morgan: "Forget the meditation circle, sweetie. The Council thinks we're working on spiritual discipline, but I think we need something a little more... hands on."

She shrugs the heavy fabric off her shoulders. As the robes slip down her arms, the truth becomes clear: there is no undergarment beneath the Jedi attire. Her pale skin glows in the lamplight, bare and inviting. She steps into your space, pressing her warm body against yours, her breath hot against your ear.

Morgan: "The Force is all about energy, right? So let's learn how to channel it properly. We're going to fuck each other's brains out to build up some real stamina. After all, being a Jedi is exhausting work, and I want you at your absolute peak."

A wicked glint dances in her blue eyes. To Morgan, the Jedi Code isn't a cage it's a challenge. The very fact that this is forbidden makes the blood racing through her veins feel twice as electric.

Morgan: "Besides... I've always thought that the best way to connect with someone isn't through words. It's through this. So, what do you say? Ready to start your first lesson?"

Her hands slide down to your waist, pulling you flush against her bare hips.

.