Home Sweet Home

Jedi Temple, Coruscant, Corusca Sector, Core Worlds

3653 BBY

Present Day

Tak Korak eased up on the throttle as his deftly maneuvered his shuttle in the Hanger Bay, repeating a process he'd seen and done hundreds if not thousands of times before by this point. Through the cockpit viewport, he could see the flashing lights guiding him downward towards a space reserved for his craft and though mindful of them, he likely would have done just as fine without them. He'd made decent landings under far worse conditions, often in situations which would have killed a less talented or experienced pilot as well as possibly everyone aboard their ship, and that's without accounting for the total destruction of the vehicle in question.

This landing too was nothing short of textbook, with no last jostle as the landing gear touched down on the floor. Smooth, quick, stable, typical of his flying style and a testament to his skill as a Jedi Ace. He landed facing outward, giving himself a lovely view of the sunrise as another temperate day on the Ecumenopolis of Coruscant began, and engaged the boarding ramp before cutting power to the system.

Inhaling deeply through his rebreather, his tough and leathery red fingers lingered on the console as he internally bid the ship goodbye. Sure, it wasn't his personally customized Aurek-class tactical strikefighter, but this old girl had seen him through quite the harrowing assignment. He hoped she would be as faithful to the next Jedi who made use of her whenever it was deemed time for her to see action once again. As he'd once heard a hard-bitten old smuggler say, good ships were hard to come by these days and in his personal opinion, this was certainly one of the good ones.

Lifting off his chair, he briefly put a hand atop the navigator's seat before pushing past into the body of the ship, casting a brief glance at the ramp as it finished it's descent before veering left towards one of the rows of seats which lined either side of the wall where a figure was laid out, shrouded in a white sheet.

Again, it'd been a harrowing assignment, and not without cost.

His first actual assignment after ascending to Knighthood, and it had ended with the death of a Master.

His right hand drifted down to the side of his belt, feeling two lightsabers hanging from it.

The first, made from Alloy Metal and dark fiber with a complex but durable design, was his.

The second, a short and stubby thing constructed out of Silvian Iron, belonged to the Jedi prone before him.

He'd originally taken it for safekeeping, in the event that he could not recover the body. At least then, the Council would have proof of his passing and something tangible for the funeral. Then, he kept it on his person to minimize the chances it would be lost or stolen while he wasn't looking.

Now, it was no longer his burden to bear.

Unhooking it even as he gently lifted the sheet with his other hand, he solemnly placed it next to the deceased Master's thigh, mere centimeters in front of fingers that were now nerveless.

Sensing the approach of the medical team he'd commed for prior to landing, he dropped the cloth and stepped back, momentarily considering apologizing to the fallen Jedi before thinking better of it. Nothing tragic or regretful had befallen the Master, not truly. He had merely taken a path that all were destined to take some day, and to be reunited with the Force was an occasion to be celebrated, not mourned. And celebrate him, Tak would.

He turned away and headed for the back of the ship, stepping down one side of the ramp just as the team he'd been anticipating rushed up past him. Tak did not stop to speak with any of them, as they'd already been informed of the Master's status. They were not there to offer their typical services as healers, but merely to take the body away and preserve it until such time that an inhumation could be held.

His pace slowed ever so slightly as he caught sight of the final healer bringing up the rear; Anatase Charot.

A Jedi Knight only a couple years his senior, she'd been a constant in his life for as long as he could remember. This was not surprising considering her former Master, Gozem Deres, had been himself trained by Nal Zoy, the very same Jedi who'd instructed Tak in the ways of the Force.

Deres had been Zoy's seventh Padawan while Tak had been his ninth and currently last.

Despite that link between them, however, they'd never seen eye-to-eye on a great many things. That's not to say they couldn't get along, but more that their personalities were too different for a closer friendship to form. She thought he put too much faith in the Order, while he thought she didn't put nearly enough in it. To her, he was rigid and dry. To him, she was reckless and disrespectful.

Even so, he was glad to see a familiar face after a week spent partially surrounded by strangers and the rest utterly alone after the death of his companion.

Shame they had to meet again while she was on cadaver duty.

At the moment, she looked more a mess than he did, which was something considering he was the one fresh off disbanding a pack of spice-dealing murderers with unconfirmed connections to the Hutt Cartels. Her hair, colored a strawberry blonde hue rarely found amongst the Kage, was even more tangled and knotted than usual. And though she usually had it done up in a half-ponytail with two separate braids looping around her head on either side, right now it was falling down her back in thick, shaggy waves. Her robes were creased and rumbled, and there were noticeable bags under her vibrant amaranth eyes. It looked to him like she'd been pulled straight out of bed for this, probably the correct deduction seeing as she did not look happy at the moment.

Tak almost pitied whoever they must have sent to wake her up. Unless their name was Gozem Deres, chances were they must have gotten a pretty serious earful.

He momentarily wondered if he was about to receive some strong words as well after catching a deeply annoyed look from her almost as soon as she saw him, but before a single word could be traded between them, he was on his way further into the hanger and she was settling in to deal with the corpse he'd left behind. Normally, he'd have apologized for inconveniencing her so, but a person was dead and by his estimation, a lost life was far more important than her precious beauty sleep.

"Knight Korak," It was then that Tak spotted his welcoming party, consisting entirely of one Master Talar Gobi who in her typically blunt, straightforward way, then proceeded to say, "You look like hammered poodoo."

"'Only' hammered? Well, I must appear better than I previously thought." Tak retorted wryly, halting before the old Master and executing a short bow. "A pleasure to see you again, Master."

"Likewise," Gobi returned the gesture, though at 7'2 feet tall, she still towered over him even with the inclination. "Though I'm sure it was just as pleasurable meeting with Zayus Krubber."

Zayus Krubber, murderer, thief, spice addict, and scumbag extraordinaire. Ten days ago, he and his crew perpetrated a burglary gone wrong, resulting in the death of an important Chandrilan businessman, his entire family, and many of his employees. Within an hour of the discovery, Krubber became the most wanted man on the planet and two Jedi were dispatched to oversee his arrest.

One of those Jedi had been Tak Korak.

"Yes, between the multiple bids to end my life, the reckless endangerment of countless civilians, and the numerous evasions of arrest, you can trust that he endeared himself to me in no time at all." Tak informed her, though not without some light-hearted sarcasm.

Indeed, he seemed quite the lovable fellow." Master Gobi mused, "Then can I trust he is currently enjoying the hospitality of Republic authorities?"

"Yes, Master." Tak affirmed, "Though regrettably, he's now short both his hands."

"An extreme outcome." Gobi observed disapprovingly.

"Sorry Master, but he was very adamant our final confrontation conclude either with his death or mine. I believe his exact words on the matter were, and I quote, 'You'll never take me alive!'" A short pause as Tak let that sink in, "Naturally, I took exception to that, and decided to pursue a third option which would see him still very much possessed of a pulse at the cost of an appendage or two."

"Emphasis on two, it appears." Gobi sighed, "Still, a much more acceptable result than either of the other proffered alternatives, I must admit."

Tak nodded, crossing his arms. "My thinking exactly."

"But it took you much longer to accomplish that result than we anticipated." Gobi added, "A little over double the previously projected time of three days."

"Yes, there were..." He was interrupted by the gentle hum of a levitating palanquin as it glided by bearing the causality from his mission, surrounded on all sides by Healers guiding it out of the Hanger Bay. Anatase was again amongst the last to pass, accompanied by one of the senior Healers who appeared to be in the midst of chiding her over a rather tasteless remark made at the expense of the recently deceased and failing quite miserably, going off the disinterested and inattentive look on Anatase's face. She only refocused on her current surroundings long enough to nod at Master Gobi as she passed, who returned the gesture while wearing an expression Tak could only describe as 'warmly displeased'. "Unexpected complications."

"Yes, when the death of Master Rogomurra was felt, there were some amongst us who feared the worst." Master Gobi remarked, "So I'm sure the Council will be very eager to hear your full report on what happened."

Tak shifted his feet, limbs falling to his sides. "Then far be it from us to keep them waiting much longer."

Master Gobi stepped aside, beckoning the way forwards, "After you."

Tak offered his thanks and stepped forward, already thinking about how he going to explain the events of the past week to the Jedi Council as concisely as possible. He heard Master Gobi fall into step behind him, escorting him to a debrief he'd never expected he would be attending alone.

Crait, The Crait System, Outer Rim Territories

3654 BBY

Six Months Ago

Tak continued deeper into the mine, having no need to illuminate the way with his lightsaber as much like all Kel Dor, he was perfectly capable of seeing in the dark. Furthermore, some additional functions on his googles meant his vision could be refined or altered in ways which were all but impossible for the average human or near-human eye without extensive cybernetic augmentation. It was a perk of requiring eyewear for atmospheric environments which did not consist mostly of helium and a unique gas as the Kel Dor homeworld of Dorin did, but still one that did not quite make up for the fact that Tak would be completely blind without them, in his own opinion.

Truthfully, he didn't know where he was going. A brief Holonet search on the journey over revealed the old mining company responsible for creating this place never properly mapped all the tunnels and the few old miner's logs he could find offered only vague clues to where certain passageways lead. In short, he now found himself stuck in a maze dominated by darkness, and was relying as much on his own memory as he was the guidance of the Force.

And indeed, he suspected his use of the latter would be crucial to his success, considering why he was here.

His Trial of Insight, the last he had to pass before he could be granted a Knighthood.

And unlike with his Trial of Spirit, he'd come just by himself, unaided and unattended. If something happened to him down here, it was unlikely that help would arrive in time to save him.

Dangerous to be sure, but Master Zoy had insisted this was something he needed to do alone, and Tak sensed that he'd been right.

It was hard to keep track of time down here, but it hadn't been too long since he'd last seen the sun. Maybe two hours?

Yes, that sounded right.

Two hours, and he still had yet to figure out what the catch was.

As far as Tak knew, the Trial of Insight was about seeing through deception, overcoming illusions, and gleaning the truth from imprecise clues or abstract hints. So far however, this Trial reminded him more of Skill than anything else, as he'd spent the most memorable instances of his brief time on this planet fighting and defeating physical manifestations conjured by the Force of anyone who'd in some way played a part in shaping the person Tak had become.

Still, despite how flawlessly identical they'd been corporally, each was an imperfect copy and that was where the mental factor of the test came into play, Tak supposed. Thus far, all had either exhibited traits the real person didn't have or exaggerated their flaws to an almost ludicrous degree, which left Tak with the task identifying and exploiting them in order to gain victory.

No sooner had he set foot on the salty white surface of Crait then he'd encountered his first duplicate in the form of his own Master at the mouth of the mine. Like his Nal Zoy, this one was also proficient in all but the seventh Form of lightsaber combat, and displayed admirable skill in employing them. However, this one liked to talk a little too much and while his Master had always been something of a showman at heart, Fake Zoy's flair for the dramatic meant what should have been relatively quick fight was prolonged far longer than it should have been, before soon tipping in Tak's favor.

In the mine's very first chamber, he was then ambushed by what looked like Anatase Charot, and yet was not her at all. He'd initially been surprised to see her, but that she would appear before him here made sense in hindsight. Of all members of the Order aside from his uncle, he'd known Anatase the longest, clocking in at just over twenty years. Much like the real one, Not Anatase seemed to have had a preference for unorthodox strategies and surprise attacks, something which nearly cost him the fight before it'd even properly started when she appeared seemingly from out of nowhere and tried to take his head off. However, once the initial shock wore off, her defeat was all but assured.

To Tak, trying for the nonconformist approach to a combat situation could be a little like gambling; one either won big or failed hard. Anatase liked to lambast others such as Tak himself for sticking to the more conventional methods but those were tried and true as well as comparatively minimum risk. Sure, her way was unpredictable and inventive when properly executed, but it otherwise nearly always turned out clumsy, inefficient, and unnecessarily risky if even the smallest detail was ever so slightly off.

As he'd mentioned before, had Anatase's doppelganger followed up with a simple if pedestrian swing of her blade, that would have been the end for him. Instead, showing signs of an overt complexity addiction, she tried to bait him into with a trap that would have seen him humiliated as well as dead. However, he'd seen through it and adjusted accordingly. With that, it was over within twenty to thirty seconds, much shorter than the two minutes and change he'd lost facing Zoy. Reason being that aside from her other issue, this version of Anatase also seemed to distinctly lack any sense of self-preservation, her tendency to commit to her own plans despite their inherent hazards taken to an illogical extreme. Because of that, bypassing her defenses and dealing her the finishing blow had been almost elementary once he'd regained his footing. Still, thus far, while he'd ended none of these duels feeling much relief or triumph, this was the only one where he'd felt put upon and perhaps even a little insulted despite having claimed victory.

A mere double or not, leave it to Anatase to take all the joy out of winning, regardless of if there was even any to be had in the first place.

The next hour passed peacefully, divided between a short break where he caught his breath while bracing himself for what he knew would lie ahead, and journeying through the tunnels in relative silence.

Thrice now, he'd been reduced to crawling on his elbows as his paths kept ending in holes just big enough from him to squeeze through, and would have surely given him panic attacks had he been claustrophobic. The final one brought him to a squarish cavern with a large pit in the middle where standing on the other side, seemingly waiting for him, was a being who looked a lot like his uncle, Master Rho Korak.

Taking on a version of the only family member he knew well had not just been one of the most difficult parts of this test thus far, but also one of the most emotionally straining. He'd known what needed to be done the moment the lightsabers came out, but that hadn't made it any easier. It had reminded him all too well of one of his deepest fears, that his uncle would one day descend too far into the depths of his research, and allow it to change him in ways Tak and the rest of the Order would find nothing short of horrifying. His uncle had always been strong willed, yes, but nobody was immune to the corruptive touch of the Dark Side. Tak was positive the man he recognized as his uncle would never intentionally hurt him but the same could not be said for anyone influenced by the darkness, whomever they might be. If ever such a day came to pass, it would not be the first time the relative of a Force Sensitive drunk on their own power was harmed or even killed, and nor would it be the last time either.

False Rho Korak was as well versed in Form VII as the real Rho Korak but also just as stubborn and only half as bright. Like all Jedi, Tak had been enlightened on the strengths and weaknesses of each of the Forms and in combatting so many Sith, he'd grown especially skilled at capitalizing on the Seventh Form's shortcomings, further bolstered by some informal lectures on the innerworkings of the style by none other than Rho himself. To summarize, Juyo's offense was overwhelming but also sacrificed much in order to make it so, leaving it's defenses rather weak and practitioners especially open to attacks from the Force. Plus, the broader application of focus and maintaining of it's unique mindset necessitated even more energy than that typically expended even in wielding Form V. So, like Ataru, Juyo favored a quick and decisive battle over prolonged combat.

That was the opposite of Tak's own preferred Form, Soresu, which often resulted in an extended confrontation as a byproduct of it's implementation.

Regrettably (though not so for Tak), Phony Rho Korak chose to press on with utilizing tactics which clearly wasn't working out in his favor and that ultimately proved his undoing, though not for lack of trying. The skirmish ended rather abruptly when Tak swept aside Counterfeit Rho's saber before kicking him into the pit and, seeing no other way out of the room anyway, climbed down after him. Like all the illusionary foes before him, Dummy Rho also completely vanished upon defeat, which Tak deduced after finding no trace of him at the bottom.

What he did find however was his last opponent to date; the mirage of one Erika Brighail. It goes without saying that this was on par with the last one as an extremely distressing matchup for Erika had been his closest friend going on six years now. Indeed, it had gotten to a point where try as he might, life without her seemed almost inconceivable to him now. How many hours had they spent in the lightsaber dojo and sparing rooms together, working on their techniques in the company of nobody but each other? They'd trained together so often, it was indisputable that she knew him as an opponent and possibly even as a person better than anyone else in the galaxy and vice-versa, no offense to his uncle.

And yet, this Erika had fought him like a stranger, not just emotionally but strategically as well. She still fought just he remembered, but didn't seem to posses any memory of his own weaknesses or strengths. Even without that advantage, she still put up quite a fight, but his memory of her blind spots and flaws as a combatant ultimately gave him the upper hand as things drew to a close.

That was about twenty minutes ago.

Now he was here, plodding along in such profuse darkness, he would not have been able to see his hand in front of his face had he been human. He stepped quietly, more out of habit than intent as not for the first time, his thick-skinned hand brushed against his lightsaber, acutely recalling the last time he'd been caught off guard. It was dead silent down here, with not a soul to be heard walking these crystalline halls. Some time had passed since he'd last seen any Vulptices, the only company not to try and kill him so far, but that was to be expected as it was summertime and they typically didn't retreat this far underground until the winter.

As he crossed through a T intersection with the aim to keep going straight, a faint flicker of light and a whisper from the Force saw him halt before immediately turning and moving towards where he'd seen a crack in the gloom. Gradually, it got lighter and lighter with each passing step, his walk becoming a light jog as he sensed a change in the air.

The next confrontation was afoot, he was sure of it.

The passageway soon opened up into a broad and expansive grotto which continued on further than he could see, several punctures erratically located throughout allowing sunlight to filter in. Rhodochrosite layered the walls, ground, and ceiling, jutting out in the forms of both stalactites and stalagmites which glimmered slightly whenever the light caught them just right. It was beautiful, so much so that for a moment, Tak wished the others were here to share the view with him, but contented himself with the fact that he could just tell others what he saw when he got back. Spotting a break in the field of burnt red minerals, he uncovered an extremely thin footway which took him steadily further in, ending in a large and clear patch of ground halfway situated directly under one of the perforations in the roof. 'Just the right size for a duel.' He noted as shuffled to the sunny half of it, coming to stand slightly towards the middle.

Abruptly, he spun around as he perceived a disturbance in the Force, scanning his surroundings with a renewed urgency. Simultaneously, a green tint was added to the light reflecting off the crystals as the blade of Tak's lightsaber sprang into being, held off to the side in a manner not dissimilar to Makashi's opening stance and yet just different enough to keep from being readily identifiable. Taking a short step towards the shadowy half of the clearing, his mind raced as he considered who might assail him next. His Master, his longest-running colleague, his uncle, and his best friend were already dealt with, so who was left? Gozem Deres? They'd always been friendly and Tak thought very highly of him, but he'd never been as close to Tak's heart as any of the others. Master Groyd? He'd partnered with the old Feeorin on certain missions before, but never had any great connection to him beyond a courteous working relationship. What about Arden Karr? Groyd's Padawan was a strong contender considering how well Tak had gotten to know him over the recent past couple years, but Karr's subtle jealousy of him had also stunted the growth of their relationship to such a degree that Tak found it doubtful an imitation of him would appear before his eyes now.

Malignance hung heavy in the air, so much so that Tak found it positively suffocating. Unlike before, he could feel an intense building of energy as it congealed into a physical form somewhere close to him, invisible to his goggled eyes but not quite beyond perception thanks to his sensitivity with the Force. Then, just as it rose to a pounding crescendo that threatened to overwhelm Tak's senses, the near-permeable field of energy swirling around him died out into nothing. And yet, the danger was far from over.

Conversely, it had only just arrived.

"I know you are there." Tak breathed with quiet certainty, bringing the lightsaber up and angling the point towards the darkness. "Show yourself."

A feminine giggle synonymous with the sound of tinkling bells met his ears, with a quality to it that was not merely just young but... childish? "As you wish."

A figure emerged from the darkness, and Tak shrunk back as he registered their identity, grip on his lightsaber tightening so greatly his hand nearly began shaking. "... I should have known it would be you."

Eight years since he'd last seen this person, and some part of him had hoped he never would have to again, as the mere sight of her resurrected memories he'd dwelled on all too often. Worse still, she looked exactly the same, as though she'd been frozen in time since their last meeting. Long black hair, dark eyes, a silvery blue skin color common to Teevan such as herself, lithe in frame and with an almost surreal grace to her movements. However, that grace was somewhat stifled by her obvious youth, for she was only fourteen years old.

Or should he say, still fourteen years old.

Not unlike what he once wore in his time, she was clad in the garb of a Jedi learner, tinged a pristine silver and white which made the black scorch mark adorning her chest stand out that much more prominently.

A stab wound inflicted by a lightsaber.

His lightsaber.

Ludena Motan. Tak's former creche mate, one-time self-proclaimed rival, and the very first person he'd ever killed.

With that in mind, she was looking much more lively than she had any right to be.

"Hello Tak," She smiled toothily, her cheerful tone belying the profound hatred burning in her eyes. "I've been just dying to see you again."

Well, there you have it. The next chapter, uploaded much more quickly than last time, I might add.

Special thanks to Outcast001 for submitting Anatase Charot, whose Google Doc was over 40(!) pages long. I know we didn't get any dialogue from her this time around, but I simply couldn't find the proper headspace needed to write up lines befitting her personality. Plus, I felt stopping for a nice chat would have interrupted the flow of the scene. As for Tak Korak, I'm the one who created him so thanks to... me, I guess? I spent a long time considering his backstory and felt it would be nice to share at least some of the things he's done with you all in the form of flashbacks. I don't think I'm going to do this for every character as I don't want to get bogged down too much on the way to the main event, but I figured it would be a good way to explain how and why certain characters are the way they are as well as inject some action into the story to keep things interesting.

I originally didn't plan to bring Anatase in this soon but as I was considering who amongst the Jedi would take care of one of their fallen, it made sense to me that this would be one of the tasks normally carried out by the Jedi Healers in addition to their typical duties. So, here we are.

And of course, I also name-dropped certain OCs made by other creators who have yet to make an appearance but hopefully shall very soon, if I have anything to say about it. So, I hope that's got at least some of you excited. Much like Tak's backstory, I also allotted much time to figuring out how a good few of the OCs are intertwined with each other socially and while some like Rho and Tak are very obvious, others might surprise you a little. Just this chapter, I revealed how Anatase and Tak are related to each other, something which I'd only hinted at in certain PMs from forever ago. Sorry the reveal took so long, but better late than never, right?

As with the previous two updates, my current plan is to try and introduce around at least two main characters per chapter if not more, but don't hold me to that. I already have ideas for how I'm going to do that with some of them but I'm drawing blanks on others, so I'm going to be using a little time in the upcoming days to try and figure that out, if I can.

Anyway, enjoy the read and please drop a review if you can.

When we return, we'll be getting another look at some more of the Sith...