THE KORASA TRIAL – AN OLD REPUBLIC ERA FANFICTION

Chapter 1

"I can promise I'll get you most of the way there."

– Ren Estera to Dahy Perak, two days prior

Jedi Transport Todrias Trild, orbiting Kamino – ten years after the destruction of the Star Forge

It was a pretty planet, Kamino; oceanic blue, distorted by grey storm masses. Kagen Turo hoped he might see it more closely, but as was turning out to be typical of every system on the Todrias, the escape pods didn't quite have the range to get there. Extending the pilot Ren's conservative estimate they might have made it; except that in the last hours the ship seemed to have taken on a manifest desire to destroy them.

Jedi Perak was swearing quietly to himself, perhaps under the impression that Kagen couldn't hear him from his seat at the rear of the cockpit. Like Ren, Dahy Perak was human, but broad-shouldered and standing somewhat higher than the ship's designers had allowed for. And where Ren was resigned to her ship's failings, Dahy seemed almost happier now that things were going wrong. It was a strange contrast to his earlier bearing – apart from a polite introduction made on their departure the Jedi Knight had barely spoken two words.

He was hunched over the communications panel, trying to get any kind of response out of the deceased equipment before their decaying orbit brought them into the moon Korasa's thin atmosphere. Kagen was doing his best to not be infuriated by how both humans could be so calm, cultivating his Jedi patience as he'd been taught.

Apparently just remembering the Togruta Padawan seated behind him, Dahy turned away from the partially disassembled circuitry with a final groan.

"It seems our distress beacon might be being jammed," he explained. "The main comm package is…beyond help at this point, though what set it off I'm not sure. But the emergency signal goes through a separate aerial and should be working. Ren was going to check if there's a fault in the connection further down the line, but if that's not the problem –"

"It's not," Ren finished for him, advancing straight through the cockpit to collapse into the pilot's seat. Somewhat redundantly she switched off the autopilot and returned to steering with the single remaining engine.

"Ah. Then we are in fact being deliberately jammed."

Kagen let the silence stand for what felt like a few minutes, finally opening his mouth to enquire further. As if he'd been waiting for it, Dahy cut him off.

"– And unless the Kaminoan STC comes to our rescue within the next …thirty orbits, our best bet would still be to take an escape pod down to the science outpost on Korasa."

"Traffic Control didn't pick us up when we first entered the system – they're not going to notice the drive signature of one short-range auxiliary," Ren mused aloud.

The smallest of Kamino's three satellites, Korasa had at least saved them from the first of the Todrias's homicidal efforts. Its gravity had pulled them out of hyperspace early – where a fractional error in their plotted course would have otherwise driven them through the target planet. But it had been all Ren could do to avoid hitting the moon and the last ditch manoeuvring had cost her the sublight drives.

Something aft had blown anyway – and then the communications had failed. The life-support had made an inspired effort to follow suit while Ren scrambled to stop the escalating damage. It was all beyond Kagen's rudimentary understanding of machinery, doubly so in an unfamiliar ship he had embarked on at the last minute. With his Master constantly occupied on the reformed Council, Kagen had often been assigned to other Jedi, but never with Dahy or Ren before.

The history between the two was palpable. Passing over his own anxiety, it was truly curious that Dahy could be so much more talkative – relaxed even – now that they were all in not inconsiderable peril; and Ren was almost as bad. Kagen indulged as much of their unspeaking contemplation of the dilemma as he could stand, staring out the viewport as Kamino passed out of sight.

"Is there anything you want me to do," he said eventually, feeling a little hopeless.

"You are remarkably patient," Dahy remarked placidly, before at last coming to focus on the here and now. "You'll have to forgive us," he explained for Kagen's benefit. "It's customary for the Todrias to give a certain amount of grief, we're just relieved to have it out of the way. This might seem pretty bad to your eyes, but honestly this isn't yet a record-breaker for the number of unrelated malfunctions."

Ren threw him a reproachful glance, taking pity on the Padawan:

"You and Dahy can go ahead of me, I'll stick around in case the Kaminoans deign to answer; grab whatever stuff you have and head to the port pod bay." Kagen nodded, extricating himself from the antiquated harness.

"Did you have to say yet?" she continued, addressing Dahy; again probably quite unaware that Kagen could still hear her from partway down the corridor. "Maybe it's not a record, but it's getting pretty damn close."

Humans always seemed to forget that; that other species might have better hearing or vision. Kagen's sense of his surroundings was certainly much sharper; not as developed as in adult Togruta, but he was still conscious of the changing dimensions as he moved into the narrower passage connecting to the passenger quarters. His was the last of three cabins. The second door was welded, not merely sealed shut, due to a minor vacuum leak beyond. Ren assured him that it had been like that for a while, and there was no need to worry.

It only took a moment for Kagen to gather his things – his lightsaber was on his belt, as always, but there were a few cold weather items he was bound to be grateful for on Korasa's surface, in addition to his newly insulated garb. There was no enforced uniform for Jedi, but Kagen hadn't realized how accustomed he had become, to the cloak particularly. It simply wasn't warm enough to be practical, and Ren had lent him an oversized coat instead. The garment smelt strongly of the waterproof coating she had renewed with a spray bottle, and it was jarringly, painfully orange.

It was again a matter of practicality; for visibility against snow and ice, such specialized cold weather apparel simply was not available for brown or beige. The thermal jumpsuit Kagen had had procured from the Enclave stores before embarking – albeit with the intent to visit storm-wracked Kamino and not its frozen moon – was at least more faded, with the now-pinkish reflective strips affixed to a grey base.

Even with the warmer clothing, the conditions on Korasa were such that their success depended heavily on guiding the escape pods to the outpost. They'd at least had ample time to study the moon, thanks to the Todrias's actually working sensors. The atmosphere was on the thin side of breathable; freezing but liveable in the short term. Ren had suggested a safe distance of no more than an hour's walk, prompting Dahy to protest that she was underestimating Jedi resilience.

The coordinates were already set in the pods' systems, with the best launch position a few minutes away around their current orbit. Assuming things worked as they were supposed to – and Ren was adamant the pods at least were of the highest quality – Kagen expected he would only have to endure an hour or two in the freezing wind.

As Kagen took a last glance around the room he faltered, pack halfway to his shoulder. For a disorientating instant he couldn't tell what had happened, before a wave of premature cold broke over him in the Force. Groping for the door Kagen inwardly recoiled from the rapidly growing certainty that the Todrias had just become a death trap.

Dahy had realized too, but although they had reacted to the urgent promptings of the Force in near synchrony, it had been independent. The fact that they were not Master and Apprentice was suddenly telling and Kagen found he was struggling to pinpoint the presence of either human over the rising disturbance.

"Kagen where are you?" Dahy's voice crackled over his comlink.

"I'm almost at the pod bay," Kagen answered, fumbling one-handed with the small communicator. Rounding the corner he threw his small bundle into the nearest pod.

"Can you activate the autopilot; or fly one on your own?" For as long as the link was open, Kagen heard the humans' hurried footsteps, but they weren't far enough along for the sound to carry the full length of the adjoining corridor.

"I can fly one." A technicality; it had been a simulator, and he'd crashed the first time, something Kagen wished he hadn't remembered. Dimly he noted the presence of the regulation survival kits slotted beneath the seats as he ducked through the circular hatch.

"Ren and I are coming to join you, we're not far…" Dahy broke off for a second that seemed to elongate unbearably. "Go now," he ordered bleakly.

Kagen obeyed; possibly he would have done so without the instruction even though he briefly saw the two humans appear at the far end of the passage. The hatch closed before he could remind himself to breathe and the sudden acceleration drove him back into his seat.

The autopilot had kicked in without him needing to do anything, and apart from his absurdly loud heartbeat, the pod remained silent; only disturbed by the momentary chirp of static as his comlink went dead. Kagen looked at it, sickened, unconsciously bracing himself as the Force tautened and turned to ice once more. The nose of his craft slid through something with the briefest shudder of resistance.

For the instant the …field or barrier, whatever he'd just flown through, remained dormant, Kagen sensed and wondered at its extent; it encompassed the entire moon. Where he was, a section wasn't quite flush with the surface. The ripple he'd made was spreading, setting his teeth on edge as he waited for the response he could feel building, gaining in speed as it closed from all directions.

Outside the viewport Korasa's snow was blotted out by forks of painfully bright lightning, forcing Kagen to close his eyes against the glare. There was no shutting his ears, but the discordant crackle grew to be deafening in seconds. He kept his grip on the controls doggedly, aware not by sight or sound but by the smell, that things were sparking and shorting out en masse. Whether the engines were offline or simply not responding, Kagen was unable to determine before the pod went shuddering into the moon's atmosphere.

The condensing air at least gave his spatial sense some traction, enough for him to tell that his craft was threatening to go into a spin. Reaching blindly for the Force he struggled to level out, or stop, grappling with the controls for an indeterminate stretch of time. Through closed lids he thought it was growing darker again, the storm of energy passing as he felt the engines catch at last. The electronic clamour gave way slowly to the overlapping tones of the pod's diagnostics, the jarring claxons all competing for his attention.

Utterly disorientated, Kagen was relieved to find Ren's faith in her escape pods was justified, when he was finally able to open and focus his eyes. At least half the population of status lights remained red and blinking, but the most vital systems were recovering. In his efforts to steady the craft, he had pulled up past parallel to the surface, leaving him able to see the distant transport descending. A second pod launched, clearly driving for as much distance from the doomed ship as possible, but heading straight for the same force field he'd struck.

He waited seconds, and then the sky ignited. The other pod was pounced upon and wreathed in lightning; emerging tumbling and fleetingly visible before the Todrias itself impacted. The result resembled an EMP discharge, but on a scale of ship-lengths as the transport disappeared in a wash of brilliant energy. Though it was visible only as a slight brightening within the roiling corona, Kagen felt the tremor in the Force when the ship blew apart. Gradually the light faded, the scene resolving into drifting fragments of debris, some still burning, none recognizable as the other pod.

He hadn't felt them go, he was sure of that, but perhaps he could have missed it in the commotion. Swallowing his rising panic, Kagen tried and failed to locate Dahy and Ren in the Force. As he stretched his senses out further Kagen couldn't find anyone, anything, and the skies were empty, as far as the pod's sensors were concerned.

It was disastrous beyond his comprehension, too much of a nightmare to even begin to address while he still had to get the pod to the ground. The predetermined course had been wiped clean, but he punched in the approximate coordinates from memory. The science outpost lay partway along the moon's sole landmark; a massive meandering trench that divided the upper hemisphere. He could its dark edge ahead; elsewhere the Korasan landscape was the same unremitting white.

The Rift, as it was labelled in the meagre databank entry Dahy had provided, was a mess. At first the canyon seemed empty, just a natural formation of rock, half buried with snow. It was deep enough in places that he couldn't see the bottom, but it wasn't until halfway along that he began to see odd pieces of manmade equipment; guide beacons, and a long reflective window set in what Kagen had thought was just a rock face. Everything looked derelict, half buried in snow, or rubble, where the overhanging walls offered some shelter from the weather.

He flew over what could have been the same stretch repeated; identically blank windows on alternate sides, with a few hundred metres of debris in between. Finally the canyon veered away so sharply that he overshot, possibly saving his life as it gave him time to notice what the Force had utterly failed to warn him of. It seemed absurd that things could go any further downhill, that he could not sense what he was seeing, and that Korasa was inhabited in the worst possible way.

Blaster fire was being exchanged in the chasm's depths, red bolts flashing out of view. But other shafts lingered, moving in slower arcs; unmistakeably lightsaber blades of the same ruby red.

Then Kagen felt the Force shift, as his presence was perceived; a fierce, far-reaching attention converging on his craft. Someone down there was reaching for him, with hideous strength, and such instinctive hostility that he recoiled. They were as present now as they had been undetectable a moment earlier, touching a deep, primal fear he hadn't known existed. He steered away, trying to reach the relative safety of the edge before they used the Force to pull him out of the air.

The viewport filled with white as he clipped the canyon's rim, skating across the loose surface snow and taking the top off a large drift. This time the claxons lasted less than a minute, trailing off sadly as the general loss of power they were advertising came into fruition. As promised though, the harness had held and Kagen merely felt bruised where the straps had dug in. Backup lights remained, illuminating the manual controls for the hatch, but the temperature was dropping alarmingly fast in the heating system's absence.

Clambering along the slanting floor, Kagen retrieved his pack from where it had lodged and braced himself besides the control panel. The pod had settled on its side after skidding fully around to point back at the Rift. It had left a trail of broken, slushy ice running all the way from the edge, but it was already freezing over.

Except for the closing pressure in the Force he could almost pretend he had imagined the scene of warfare in the canyon's depths. The keen focus had lessened slightly, sliding past him, and back again. Lingering in the pod, Kagen wondered if there was some less futile option available to him, but there was nowhere else to go but the Rift. If he was fast enough, he might be able to find somewhere to take shelter without being seen. He took another moment to get his bearings and punched the hatch release.

The effect of the wind was immediate, limiting his sight and hearing to a dismal range; it hurt to breathe. From behind the transparisteel the view had been so clear, but he could barely open his eyes against the gale, and for a hundred metre trip across open ground, it was harder going than he would have believed possible.

He staggered forward, relying on his spatial awareness more than anything else, and finally fell onto his hands and knees to scramble over canyon's lip. Either it had started to snow, or his vision was going fuzzy as he peered down. Three figures were arranged below him, supported by a narrow ledge, and all were regarding Kagen with intently.

They definitely looked like people, not droids, and that was as far as he got before he was hauled back down to their level in an unshakable Force grip. He landed hard on his back, somehow laying a groping hand over his lightsaber hilt in the instant before he found a matching blade at his throat.

"Drop it!" the being standing over him growled. Kagen acquiesced, struggling to regain his wind. Apart from his burning lungs, he couldn't feel if he was injured, the sheer cold was dulling his perception. The lightsaber blade was blisteringly hot by comparison, centimetres from his flesh. It was also blue, which was bizarrely comforting given the circumstances.

Its custodian was humanoid and extremely tall, from Kagen's vantage point. He – it had been a masculine voice – looked away for a moment, his eyes hidden behind a visor as he consulted with one of his companions. Someone outside Kagen's field of vision took his discarded saber and retreated, footsteps crunching on the ice.

A few foreign words were exchanged, and Kagen's breath came easier as the phantom grasp holding him in place was relinquished. The tall man shut off his weapon, unceremoniously pulling Kagen to his feet.

"Stang. I don't know what you're here for, Jedi," he said in accented Basic, shaking his head over the designation. "Stay put, and you can tell us all about it later. You can help the salvagers when they get themselves up here." He delivered the last instruction into his comlink, not shouting, but with controlled urgency.

His two companions were already climbing upwards, only metres away, but too far to be seen in detail. They wore dark colours, unlike Kagen's erstwhile captor, who was clad in thick segmented armour. The mirrored visor made it hard to tell, but he appeared human, and the plastoid plates looked to have been white originally, under multiple coats of peeling colour.

He was obviously struggling to hear his comlink over the wind, but Kagen caught snatches of unintelligible conversation in the lulls. The device looked ancient, almost too large to be held in one hand, and unlike the man's lightsaber, swinging wildly on a belt hook, the comlink was returned tenderly to some sort of magnetic housing.

Squinting, Kagen made out several more figures edging along the outcropping. He still couldn't feel them in the Force; there was only a blurry local disturbance, overshadowed by the menace seeping from the Rift. The newcomers roundly ignored him, spreading out to accept the bundles of plating and circuitry suddenly appearing from overhead. They had staggered themselves in roughly ten-metre intervals, using the empty space to store the debris. Kagen watched in stunned silence as the pod's skeleton went past in instalments. It had been spaceworthy minutes earlier.

"C'mon, speed it up," the tall leader muttered, manoeuvring around the precarious stacks of salvage. With practiced efficiency, the scavengers bundled everything into cargo crates, each hoisting up a front and backpack after the largest pieces were sent ahead. As an afterthought, one bent and retrieved what proved to be one of the extracted viewports. With the reference object in hand, Kagen realized this being was far larger than its fellows, and more disquieting, it was moving towards him.

"We're ready!" it called ahead to the leader

He tensed as it continued to approach, but realized the creature was wearing a familiar toothy expression; the wide grin of a Togorian attempting to be reassuring in human fashion. The feline visage was unmistakable, and his manner reminded Kagen strongly of a past acquaintance, Jedi Knight Shureeva. Even so, he flinched a little as the male Togorian clapped a massive paw on his shoulder. The Force surged, any subtleties of message rendered incoherent by distortion; but Kagen gathered that the company meant him no harm, and he was too shattered to argue.

"Soren Vskorr," the felinoid growled with a curt gesture at himself. He switched the viewport over to his left hand, offering the other to Kagen. The Padawan accepted and ventured his own name, but was only nudged impatiently toward the seven-strong cluster at the far end of the ledge.

He could not fathom how they intended to make the descent with so much baggage, but Vskorr steered him to the head of the group. The Togorian conveyed another fuzzy warning and Kagen was allowed a second to brace himself before a Force Push sent him rapidly sideways to another outcrop.

He staggered a little on landing, kept from immediately overbalancing by a second shove. By necessity, the blows were powerful, not entirely painless, but the pre-emptive sense of concentration that should have warned him was absent. Besides Vskorr, any or all of the company could have been Force-sensitive, and it was unclear which of them was handling the throwing about of people.

"Time's up!" the leader bellowed as he joined them. To Vskorr, "What's our line?" The answer meant nothing to Kagen, but the human nodded and made his way to the front, his comlink sounding a long shrill note. They moved in single file, running when possible on the wider ledges, but mostly slogging against the interminable headwind at as fast a walk as they could manage.

"That's Tem. The Ansoren – second in command – to you," Vskorr snarled in snatches, when he was close enough for Kagen to hear.

"Okay!" Kagen shouted back, pulling his attention away from making sense of what he could and could not sense, and into just enduring. Their common enemy was still searching, impossible to shut out fully, and the dangerous elements were now on the same level as they were.

There was no real sense of time, but he was dimly aware of the temperature varying in degrees below zero as the wind rose and fell. Kagen was sandwiched between an anonymous back and Vskorr's heavy form. He stopped when they did, a little late the first few times, until he started to grasp the crude directions given through the Force. Once, they paused, and Kagen unthinkingly joined them in diving face down in the snow, remaining thus for almost a minute.

Kagen pulled his hood back up as they rose, with clumsy digits that promised agony to come. The ice-encrusted brim obscured his vision, but there was nothing to see that he couldn't infer. It was snowing now, which left his spatial awareness rather clogged; even so he knew they were nearing the bottom, and a sharp drop off, which one would have to be blind – spatially – to miss, at any distance.

As if to prove him wrong, the salvager he was following nearly fell down it, saved first by his reflexive grab, and then by Vskorr hauling them both back. They stammered their thanks in a rare patch of greater-than-metre visibility, but the Togorian merely shrugged and pointed out the top of a ladder fastened to the ice. Exhausted, Kagen took the rungs one at a time. He counted twenty but struggled to find the next one, even though he could feel where it was. Between shivering and trembling with fatigue he kept missing it, yielding to shriek in un-Jedi-like defiance as the gale threatened to peel him off.

In that instant of inattention the ladder shuddered, Vskorr's boot missing his fingers by a hair, and Kagen flinched away. With sudden horror he grabbed blindly for the ladder, just touching it before the world fell out from under him.