Sons Of Destiny Episode II: Equilibrium

by Kjoil

After years of exile, Skar finally comes to Coruscant with his new apprentice. But his past continues to haunt him, and it seems the past itself is far from dead...

1. A Voice From The Past

"The failure to read good books both enfeebles the vision and

strengthens our most fatal tendency -- the belief that the

here and now is all there is."

(Allan Bloom)

"No great advance has ever been made in science, politics,

or religion, without controversy."

(Lyman Beecher)

Four Years After The Battle Of Soliton

For over a thousand generations Coruscant had been central to galactic affairs. It was universally known that whomever controlled Coruscant controlled the galaxy. When the Empire had come to power, they'd wiped away any remnant of the Old Republic, and during the height of the Galactic Civil War, the planet was formally renamed Imperial Center. The ancient and once grand Jedi Temple was no more, nor was the legendary Senate building. The Imperial Palace was now the largest building on the surface, an old testament of Palpatine's rule.

But more recently it had once again become a landmark for the Republic; the New Republic. Following the defeat of the Empire at the Battle of Endor, the Rebel Alliance had made the capture of Coruscant their first priority. The elite Alliance special missions force and starfighter unit, Rogue Squadron, spearheaded the stab and a cunning plan allowed the Rogues to retake Coruscant with its planetary shields intact and with acceptable collateral damage.

Over the next few years, the New Republic set up government on Coruscant. They moved the capital to the old Imperial Palace, and reinstated senatorial rule. Using immense construction droids, the Republic was able to clear the rubble and erect new buildings on Coruscant's surface.

And once again Coruscant became a magnet to Jedi, just as in the old days when Jedi Knights had sworn an oath to protect Coruscant and its Republic against the forces of darkness in the Galaxy, now a new generation of Jedi was underway. Despite his reservations, he knew it was inevitable he ended up here.

Skar Kjoil settled the Koniduz easily into a hovering position over the landing platform. Outside the viewport the shining metropolis of Coruscant was heavy with traffic and its pristine steel buildings shone with a graceful light, so bright Skar had to squint to adjust his eyes as he powered down the ship's thrusters.

The crimson personnel carrier settled down gently in the center of the circular platform, the platform itself so elevated that he couldn't even see the surface of the planet; only the surrounding endless rows of crafts and spaceships that moved by slowly in vast traffic lanes all around him.

Coruscant had always been a scarce subject for him. Scarce because of the fact that he knew Coruscant would one day be under his protection, if he chose to shape his life as his parents and descendants had wanted of him. Skar had seen holos of the great capital which had left him breathless and he had feared the real thing would do the same, and that he would find it hard to resist. And if he did not resist, he would resent himself forever. He had wanted to find himself before he settled down as a myrmidon for the Republic. He enjoyed the solitary life, having his own adventures, being his own man, being free, being…

Being Kayupa.

He'd been happy living the lone warrior life that Kayupa had once. But now he knew he would have to let go of that, to help those who relied on him. Some months ago Skar had found clues to a band of refugee Kjoil suvivors hiding on a planet called Draori, deep inside the Unknown Regions. He'd gone there, finding over two hundred Kjoil that had escaped the initial annihilation of Ka'ckak by the Empire.

Unfortunately, he'd also found the remnants of the Five Epigones, showing up two weeks after his arrival, the five Kjoil first selected to join the Old Republic as Jedi defenders. But they'd turned away from their old beliefs, just like Skind Kjoil they'd turned their attention to the Dark Side and they were trying to wipe out their own people. Them showing up only two weeks after him led Skar to believe that someone had leaked the information he'd uncovered about Draori. And since Jedi Master Luke Skywalker was the only inside the Republic he'd shared the information with, Skar knew the leak was someone inside the Republic.

Why they'd turned to genocide Skar had never understood, but he'd known then it was his responsibility save his people from extinction, even against their own kind. And so Skar had bested and defeated the Four Epigones, and with the help of a New Republic transport, supplied through a call to Skywalker, he'd taken the refugees away from Draori and found a new safe haven for them, where he was sure that no one would ever find them again.

Skar stepped off the Koniduz, trailed by the five pilots who'd flown the Republic transport to the new home for the Kjoil, and 2L, his silver protocol droid, Skar's most trusted - not to mention most chatty - companion.

Also following him was a young boy, with unruly blond hair, who stayed close to him. The boy's name was Rishi, he'd lost his parents just before the evacuation of Draori, and Skar had chosen to take him with him. Skar had taken it upon himself to train the ten-year old Rishi into the Kjoil life. He'd chosen Rishi among several other children, because he was the only one who was aware of his power.

Many of the refugees had yet to understand the Force, which was another burden Skar had chosen to carry. He'd told them he would return to them from time to time and teach them how to use it, so that they could teach it on to their children and that the Kjoil race might once again have a future.

Skar had his hand on Rishi's shoulder as they walked across the platform, towards the sole person that had come to greet them. Skar had to concentrate to keep his eyes on the man standing there, finding it hard not to turn his gaze and admire the splendor that was Coruscant. Indeed it was a beautiful place, even more beautiful that he'd imagined it would be.

Skar found it perplexing to look up and see a winged creature fly by, in a world this metallic and populated he'd guessed no indigenous wildlife would prosper. From reading about Coruscant Skar knew the winged creatures were hawkbats. Even though he'd read about them living in the city he still found it odd to see such an animal against such an artificial backdrop, and in more than one way he sympathized with the hawkbat.

He could even feel Rishi's amazement, the feeling of someone so young taking in something so grand was overloading Skar's emotions and he almost felt like crying out of joy. Truly this was a place of much admiration, and he felt a stab of guilt for not helping protect it sooner.

Four years ago, after the fall of Soliton and the death of everyone he held dear, he'd tried to make his own life, far away from the expectations dead people had made of him. He'd wanted to set out on his own and find his own place in the world. But somewhere deep, lying dormant in his conscience, there was the feeling he'd always known he would end up here. Skar tugged at Rishi's shoulder to encourage the boy and tell him that there was nothing to be afraid of. And he couldn't help smile at himself when he realized he was also trying to calm himself.

Skar and Rishi, with 2L in tow, reached the singular man awaiting them at the platform's entrance. Feeling it was proper, Skar knelt down before this man, bowing his head.

The man's brown cloak surrounded him like a second layer of skin, his fingers interlocked before his belly, as he greeted them with a boyish smile. Luke Skywalker held up his palm. "Please, you don't have to bow, Skar."

Since the incident at Soliton four years ago, Skar had kept a line of communication open with Luke. On some occasions they'd shared information and thoughts on their own roles in the Galaxy. Skar thought of Luke as a friend, though they'd never even spoken in person. Skar had sent Master Bo-Hi's lightsaber to Luke once, at a time when Luke was coming to meet Skar. Because of Skar's own wishes to not tie himself down to anything other than himself yet, he'd left a message for Luke inside the lightsaber, only to be read by other Jedi.

It had been a test of them both; Skar had given up a precious item to him, severing his own connections to the past he was trying to build a foundation from, and a test of Luke's abilities with the Force. Both had passed the test.

Luke's eyes wandered over Skar's form as the Kjoil Knight rose before the Jedi Master, seeing for the first time the man that had evaded them meeting like this for four years now. Skar felt another bitter stab of guilt; for so long he'd maintained a line of contact with Luke only to talk about themselves and the way they viewed the world. And now, on their first meeting, Skar had come to ask a favor.

"You look tired."

Skar thought Luke was referring to the weary look on his face from the last two hectic months, but maybe he was seeing Skar for the first time and describing him as best as he could; tired. He supposed it was well-fitting either way. "I am. From battle."

"So I hear." Luke's face was very diplomatic and kind, a trait Skar guessed he'd inherited from his sister Leia. "It was a good thing you called me when you did. It was sheer luck that one of our transports was just collecting dust in a hangar."

Skar found it hard to smile. "You were my only hope."

"How many refugees survived?"

Telling Luke would have been easy and he truly believed he could trust Luke; however he'd felt that way before and things had gone terribly wrong. "Luke, I'm not here to chit-chat, and I'm not here to stay." The words tasted sour in his mouth.

Luke's aghast expression gave Skar a streak of satisfaction. "Look, I'm not going to make any rash assumptions about your presence here," Luke said matter-of-factly. "Given our talks in the past, it couldn't have been an easy decision."

Skar clutched his wrists at his lower back, Rishi's tiny hand inside them. "I thought you'd be happy to see me."

"I'm…honored, I think is the word." Luke's youthful face looked even younger than Skar's though they were the same age. Luke's bore the signs of battle, a scar here and there, but it still looked like the innocent face of a young boy. Luke, taking his eyes off Skar, looked at Rishi. "Is this - ?"

This time Skar didn't have to force forth a smile. It came on its own, as he looked down at the small boy who stared out at the bustling activity all around him, squinting his eyes from the bight sun. "Yeah, this is the one I told you about."

Luke smiled warmly and crouched down before Rishi, looking more like a playful uncle than a Jedi Master. Rishi looked at him, studying the stranger who held out his hand to him.

"Welcome to Coruscant, Rishi. Glad you could join us."

Acting as a ten year old would when introduced to a strange and unfamiliar environment, Rishi stepped behind Skar's leg, drawing another smile from Skar, and hid himself from the stranger.

Luke took no offense, he only smiled. "What a source of joy. I can see why this means so much to you." Then Luke's face changed as he looked back up at Skar. If Skar didn't know any better, he'd say Luke had just aged ten years in a second, the innocent boy was gone. "It actually worries me that you're here, Skar, makes me wary. There was no need for you to come here."

The smile vanished from Skar's face as well, as he nodded his head towards the five Republic pilots who stood too far from them to overhear the conversation. "They are the reason I'm here. The refugees' safety was compromised after I found the clues to their location by someone inside the New Republic. I can't let it happen again."

Luke nodded, his arms crossed over his chest. "I agree. And it was regretful what happened the first time. A grim mark of corrupt forces within the Republic. I don't suppose you've gathered any intel that might reveal this traitor?"

Skar shook his head. "No."

Luke sighed. "Then we must think of a way to avoid it happening again."

"I've thought of a way." Skar lowered his voice and added a touch of the Force to block his words from anyone else. "I want to erase the location of the new hideout from the minds of those pilots."

Luke started. "What?"

Skar was in no mood for charades. "You heard me."

"Skar, I can't let you do that. You and I both know that such attempts can sometimes trigger unwanted defects. Intricate manipulation of memories, especially recent ones, is very dangerous. I understand you don't want this secret to become public knowledge, but these men you can trust. They're loyal and committed to the New Republic - "

"As I'm sure the ones who sold out Draori once were," Skar snapped. "They're a risk I can't afford to take. Its safest if only I know where they are."

Luke looked at the nervous boy huddling around Skar's leg. "What about him?"

Skar never shifted. "I've already erased it from his memory."

Luke's face froze, but Rishi was Skar's responsibility, not his. Luke looked over at the pilots. Again that diplomatic edge appeared on his face. The face of a politician. "As much as I sympathize with your situation, the answer is no."

Skar expected that, and yet it still struck him like a fist to the stomach. "Luke, those refugees are my family, my race, my future. I won't jeopardize their lives."

"And I won't let you play with those men's minds. There must be another way. I can't allow you to do it, the mind is a fragile thing," Luke shook his head slowly. "And the Force is a powerful tool, you can't just use it at your whim."

Skar allowed himself a slight smile. "I can, Luke. That's the difference between you and me."

Luke sighed. "My answer's still no."

Skar looked up at him. "Someday someone will have to restore the Jedi Order, Luke. And its going to be one of us, because we are the only ones left with the amount of knowledge we have. We're the only ones who can train the next generation. Its time to start. We're wasting time."

Luke agreed with a nod. "Time is slipping between our fingers as it is...but that has nothing to do with these pilots and your request...and you know that.."

Skar felt even more pushed to the edge. "So that's a no, then? I came all this way, just to be turned down!"

Rishi stirred by his leg, shaken by the sudden outburst of anger. 2L remained neutral in the background, studying the proceedings from a logical point of view.

Luke shook his head, clearly disappointed at Skar's flare. "I'm not a merchant, Skar. You can't trade favors here. You're the one who chooses whether or not your visit here is a failure."

Skar coiled his fists, squeezing Rishi's tiny hand inside. "The only thing that has failed was my faith in you!" Skar barked.

Again Rishi clutched himself tighter to his Master, not used to those kinds of words coming from a man who had taken the role of his father and mentor, after the death of his own family on Draori.

Luke hugged himself, as if a sudden chill had come across him. "Don't let anger control your words, Skar - "

"Don't lecture me!" Even as he said it Skar felt the anger Luke had pointed out grow inside him. The last few months had been very stressful and he also knew they would be some of the most important acts he would ever achieve in his life; to help the Kjoil become a people again. That's why he was so angered. He knew that no one should stand in the way of his success. Not even Luke Skywalker. Skar's free hand clutched into a fist, the anger boiling inside his palm.

"Don't mistake me for your enemy, Skar," Luke warned. "I'm not."

Skar only then noticed his free hand was closing in on his lightsaber, the silver metallic handle strapped to his thigh. Skar did not want this to turn into a measure of strength with the blades, because he knew it wouldn't gain him anything. But still the thought of proving to Luke that he could control his anger and avoid being dampened by the Dark Side was alluring.

Skar sighed mentally, feeling disgusted. The last months had really changed him. Was he willing to take on Skywalker to get his message through? Was it worth it? Was it...justifiable? Reason was fighting to speak out, but anger was already screaming its lungs out.

"You're in my way!"

"No." Luke showed his irritation with a pair of rolling eyes. "I'm trying to show you the way." The way Luke's hands suddenly fell to his sides showed Skar that the Jedi also was wondering whether or not this might turn into a duel.

Skar was afraid it would come to this, afraid he would have to make this choice. But in a way he knew he'd chosen that path long ago, this was just the final step. And in the grander scheme of things his small sacrifice meant nothing compared to the people whose lives would be saved. Skar, feeling bitter all the way down his throat, knelt down before Luke again.

"If you help me protect my family…I will protect yours."

Luke was surprised. "What?"

"I'll join you, Luke," there was a taste of bile in his throat, mixed with a small measure of pride and anguish. "I'll help you protect the New Republic."

"I thought you wanted to walk your own path?"

Skar sighed. "There are many paths to choose from."

Luke nodded hesitantly. "I was hoping you would come to this conclusion. Its the Jedi way. Compassion. Surrending oneself for something greater."

Skar looked up, pleadingly. "So you'll help me?"

Luke's eyes were still full of worry, and Skar saw it in slow motion as the Jedi shook his head, his eyes closed, dooming Skar's wish once again. "I told you, I'm not a merchant."

Skar found himself without resources and spent. No solutions but enough anger to fuel a fleet of star destroyers. He'd figured that pledging his loyalty would be enough to sway Luke, but the Jedi was even more difficult than he'd suspected. Skar realized maybe that was the problem. Maybe he thought too highly of himself.

Skar was growing desperate and angry. He'd never felt this much anger towards a being before in his life. He of course knew what had brought this anger around, his last few months had been without rest and he'd had to take care of an entire two-hundred refugees, trying to think of ways to help them the best way he could, taking upon himself a responsibility he in no way felt ready for. Only to stand here now, at the final step, and be denied. Though he knew all these things it didn't make the anger go away, it only fueled it.

It built up inside of him, breaking defences like a tidal wave. He felt saturated by it. He could feel it behind his eyes, at the tip of his fingers, burning inside him like an ever growing fire.

Anger leads to hate.

Rising from his knees, Skar unclipped his lightsaber from his thigh and charged towards Skywalker. 2L yelped in distress as it happened and Rishi ran for cover. The Jedi had his green blade out fast enough, expecting the attack, and was able to parry a strong overhead strike from Skar's likewise green blade.

Skar's anger tunneled through him, made him think of a thousand ways he wanted to show Luke that it was wrong to mess with him. His lightsaber danced between him and the Jedi as they engaged in battle. Skar's quick hands made mincemeat of Luke's defenses and drove the Jedi back on the landing platform, gaining ground and pushing Luke further and further back from where he came.

Skar unlocked his blade from the fighting and fell into his defensive stance. "How dare you deny me!"

Luke shook his head slowly. "I do want you on my side, but that doesn't mean I'll do anything for it. There are still boundaries none of us should cross."

Skar knew where this was going. "The Dark Side. That's what you fear."

Luke didn't deny it. "I cannot stand by and watch you do something I never could. And I can't understand why you'd join a group you don't even trust."

Skar snarled and jumped forward, pouncing on Skywalker like he was nothing. Skar's skills with a saber far outmatched Luke's parries, but somehow the Jedi managed to stay on top of things. Skar knew if it should come to death, Luke's family would be the one shopping for a tombstone. Skar continued to hack and slash over Luke's blade, driving the man back, his blade's high pitch cutting invisible furrows in the air.

"You needn't fear the Dark Side."

Luke's face didn't change. "Your words, as well as your actions, are contradictions. To know that you've done it would worry me even more than the Dark Side. I know you don't fear it because of your immunity to it." Luke's eyes squinted. "Its you I'm afraid of, not the Dark Side."

"There's nothing to - "

"I wonder if you really understand the Force enough to make such a bold statement. Are you really sure it would not affect you in some way?"

He was beginning to lose it. Skar could feel the anger crawling just beneath his skin. How dared Luke mock his understanding of the Force? How long would Skywalker put up this act, this putrid waste of time while his people loomed in evident danger?

"Only I know my own heart. If I tell you that you don't need to worry, then you don't need to worry!"

Luke's eyes looked deep down inside him, judging Skar's feelings and his anger. "Skar, you're only making things worse. Stop this now, come to your senses. This is not what I expected of you."

That angered Skar even more, but as he began to move forward to attack Luke again, he noticed that the pilots on the platform had unholstered their blasters and were targeting him. Likewise all the closest hovercrafts above him had frozen in the air, their occupants staring down at the two Force adepts going at each other.

Everywhere were faces staring at him, the faces of the people he pretended he wanted to protect. The faces of the innocent that haunted you when the time came to prove your intentions. Skar slouched, feeling a tired drain across his shoulders. His eyes wandered to where Rishi should be, but the boy had hidden himself behind one of the pilots.

Skar swallowed the bitter lump in his throat. What am I doing? What has happened to me? When did I get like this? I know the Code by heart. I know it as well as I know my own name.

I thought I did.

Luke Skywalker was still holding his blade out, but it hung safely by his legs, the green blade hissing like a snake, while his face looked like a closed book. His eyes were closed and Skar sensed his probing touches around him. Luke was sizing him up, judging whether Skar had come to his senses or not.

Skar powered down his lightsaber, trying not to feel like he was surrendering. This wasn't the way he wanted things to go. This wasn't why he'd come to Coruscant. Seeing Rishi's eyes staring at him with such fear, it was the worst feeling he'd ever had. Maybe he was wrong in choosing an apprentice so soon.

Maybe he wasn't ready.

Luke powered down his blade and opened his eyes, a compassionate touch to them. "You are ready, you may feel you still have a lot to learn, but the Force and the universe it upholds is never-ending. There will always be more to learn. What you know now….you must pass on to Rishi."

Moving a hand over his face, wiping away the sweat, Skar sighed. "If I can ever win his trust again."

Luke walked over to Skar and placed his palm on his shoulder. "You will. You're his family now."

The sound of that drew a genuine smile from Skar's lips. It had been a while since he'd had a family, or friends. Or anyone.

"As for the other matter, leave the pilots to me. And regarding your entry into the Republic I have only one request."

Skar held out his hands. "What?"

Luke tugged at his shoulder. "That you let me help you control your emotions. Our feelings are what makes us what we are, but anger, fear, hatred, those feelings only make us less. They never make us powerful."

Skar knew, as he'd thought he'd known before the fight. There was still much to learn about himself. "Anything else?"

"This fight stays between you and me. No one else needs to know about it."

Skar smirked. "Why, because I was about to take you down?"

Luke's face was anything but amused. "Because I can think of no better reason to deny your request and have you exiled from Coruscant forever, you understand?"

Skar nodded shamefully, looked around and saw that all the speeders had flown away again, returning to their previous business. Even the pilots had holstered their weapons, yet still eyeing Skar with some scrutiny. Skar didn't blame them.

"Its been awhile since I've had someone to talk to in person, someone who understood the Force. I think some time here on Coruscant will be good for me. Perhaps I can find a home here."

Luke flashed his boyish smile. "Show me the Skar I've written to for the last four years and I think it will be good for us both. Stay here while I sort things out with the pilots, I'll find quarters for you and a hangar for your ship."

Luke walked on, signaling the four pilots to follow him off the platform. Skar turned his attention to the young Rishi, huddling behind the landing clamps on the Koniduz. Skar sighed again, how was he ever going to explain what he'd just done? Skar decided to let the boy conquer his fears a little while yet, and then turned to 2L. The silver protocol droid crossed its arms and made a small tisk-tisk sound. 2L could look extremely human when he tried.

"Human behavior is as hard to comprehend as the mating rituals of the Fryian worm," the droid stated.

The droid's humorous sentiment was the mirror image of Skar's own thoughts, and it made Skar smile. The spiteful and playful tone in 2L's voice and manner had come from him only being around Skar for the last four years. Skar was proud of the droid's sarcasm. It reminded him how it was to be around other people. And the droid was good for a few laughs now and then.

"I told you, they put the tail where the legs - "

"It was sarcasm, Master Skar. I'd think you of all people would appreciate sarcasm."

Skar shrugged. "Sarcasm is just another way of hiding what you're really thinking."

2L confessed. "I was wondering whether or not you intend to hold yourself to the promise you gave Master Luke, or whether its just a ploy. Given your previous reservations against Coruscant, its only logical to think that what you just promised, was infact a lie."

Skar made a cautious smile. "It wasn't a lie. Think of it as a vacation."

"The kind of promise you have made, would indicate a time span of more than that of an average vacation."

Skar chuckled to himself. "Well, then call it a sentence."

2L took a moment to understand the meaning of that. "You refer to Coruscant, the Galactic Capital, as a prison?"

Skar started walking towards the Koniduz, thinking it was time to make amends to Rishi and explain things as best as he could. If he could. "Yeah, think of this place as a prison. If we behave for a couple of years, they'll let us out."

The droid leaned against the ship's landing clamp in an almost complete copy of a human being at peace with himself. "The late philosopher Pakria Holh said that there is no such thing as enclosure; only unexplored opportunities."

Skar made a small smile, as he spotted Rishi tucked away beneath the ship. "Fine. We'll think of it as an opportunity." Skar knelt down by the ship and motioned to Rishi to come out. "Come on."

The boy shook his head and wouldn't meet Skar's eyes.

"Its alright," Skar said, "we're safe."

Reluctantly and still slightly afraid, Rishi crawled out from under the ship and dusted himself off. Skar couched down in front of him and ran his sleeve over the boy's face, clearing away the smudge and the tears.

"You okay?"

Rishi nodded, a childish worry on his face. "You attacked that man."

Skar nodded. "Sometimes people do things they haven't thought through. It's called going with your anger. But you and me, we have to be better than that. We mustn't let our feelings get us into trouble. Its important that we take the time to think things through before acting."

Rishi seemed to catch on. "You didn't."

"No," Skar said, finding it hard to deny that fact. "What I did was the wrong thing. That's why we must listen to our hearts, to determine right from wrong."

Rishi nodded, apparently he understood better than Skar had expected. "Even grownups make mistakes, huh?"

Skar rustled the boy's wild hair. "Yeah, no one is perfect. We have to learn from our mistakes so that they don't happen again."

Luke came back out, the pilots nowhere in sight, rubbing his palms together to let Skar know that everything was taken care of.

"We're in the clear. I searched the pilots' minds to see if they're of any danger of corruption or treachery. I explained the matter to them and they agreed to keep this assignment to themselves."

Skar didn't believe what he was hearing. "So you're just going to...trust them?"

Luke nodded. "Yeah, that's right."

Skar frowned. "Luke - "

"And I've also found an apartment for you in Imperial Center. Its unfurnished for now, but I'll have someone send over the necessities for the three of you. I've also arranged for a hangar for your ship. But it will take some time to clear the red tape. Meanwhile I would be honored if you would join me." Luke flashed his best smile. "So this is my official welcome to Coruscant."

Skar forced a smile, still unsure and uncomfortable with his new home, but hoping for the best. The refugees weren't expecting him back any time soon, and their supplies would last them a long time before a new shipment was needed. Coruscant seemed vast and open to him. His chores were done. Everything was new and Coruscant was waiting for him to explore it. "Thank you, Luke…for everything."

"In time I think I will be thanking you. Let me know when you've settled in, and rested, so we can have a talk about our…future plans."

Skar nodded. "The new Jedi Order."

Luke started walking towards the entrance and the three newcomers followed him. "The Galaxy is full of undiscovered Force sensitive potentials. We must find them , and reestablish the Jedi as they once were. Defenders of the Republic."

Skar corrected those words with his own understanding. "Defenders of faith, not just the Republic. While the Jedi may have limited their powers to aid the Republic in the past, it doesn't mean they will do so again. The Jedi of old are gone. The next generation may not want to pick up their old habits."

Luke chuckled and glanced at Skar as they walked alongside each other. "But Skar, don't you see?" His eyes lit up. "We are the next generation."

"Right," Skar agreed.

"I've recently found some information on Dathomir. Hundreds of disks containing more information than I can read in a lifetime. But with a partner I might…" Luke let the sentence linger.

"Give me some time first. Let me get used to this place."

"Of course."

Skar suddenly remembered something in the back of his head. "Dathomir, that's in the Outer Rim, right? The Quelii sector."

Luke was surprised. "Yeah, how'd you - "

"My mother's Holocron. It had some information about the witches that live there. I can't remember all the details, though. The Jedi Knights of the Old Republic exiled a rogue Jedi there and she taught her powers to the inhabitants. As time passed, these Force-sensitive women divided into clans. One of them was supposedly dedicated to the Dark Side, a clan called the Nightsisters, am I right?

Luke's face showed surprise.

"Am I wrong? My memory's a little hazy on the subject."

"No, you're right on!" Luke said enthused. "Its just that I had to go there to learn all that! You read it from a Holocron." Luke's amazement led him to let out an impressed whistle. "Do you still have this Holocron?"

Skar shook his head. "No."

"What happened to it? It could help us out a lot."

Skar held up his palms. "I've already told you about most of it. Everything I told you came from it."

"But we won't last forever, Skar. A Holocron like that should be passed on to the next generation and the next ones too." Luke wouldn't let the subject drop. "Where is it, do you know?"

Skar knew. All too much. "On a planet called Kryuu."

"I've never heard of that planet."

Skar frowned. "Consider yourself lucky. I'm never going back there."

"But what about the Holocron?" Luke insisted.

Skar put his arm around Rishi's shoulders as they walked and pulled the boy closer to him, Rishi's presence smoothed out the painful memories brewing under his surface. With the boy nearby Skar could see a future ahead that negated the pains in his past. Rishi was his future, and the past belonged only to memories that Skar hoped would pass in time, like a dream.

"Some things are best left alone, Luke. This is one of them."

---

Nine Years Later

His hands still hadn't stopped shaking since his last excursion outside in the blistering cold to the auxiliary hydro generator on the frozen lake. He'd been out there fifteen minutes ago, wrapped in a thick coat, gloves, and even a small portable heat generator, and still he'd felt he was turning into a popsicle. Relieved to be back inside his control room, he hurried to make himself a hot cup of caf and decided to wear his coat for a while yet, his gloves too, to keep warm. While it brewed he placed his hands on the kettle to feel the warmth radiating off its surface. Once the caf was done he clapped his hands around the warm mug and sipped the aromatic liquid down with deliberate slowness, letting the warm richness of the taste linger for as long as possible.

An hour ago the main generator had gone offline, the reason still unlocated, making him slightly edgy since in all the time he'd worked here he'd never experienced a shutdown. The generator had never failed on him before. Running a repair yard as big as Hope's Haven required a lot of patience but most of all it needed power. With all the ships the New Republic had been sending him the last few months, to have a power shutdown now was about the worst thing imaginable. Unable to raise his chief supervisor he'd been forced to switch on the alternative power himself.

It had taken him fifteen minutes to get out there in the relentless chill, another fifteen to switch the power routing over to the hydro power, and the last fifteen minutes to get back. The roaring frosty wind that moved constantly over the arctic terrain outside, was something he'd gotten used to during his years of service. But today it got to him.

He didn't know how or why it got to him, but it did.

The door behind him opened, and even before he heard her footsteps he knew it was Junn, his chief supervisor. Normally she took care of the little tasks, but she hadn't been around when it had happened.

Holding his caf to his mouth he swirled around in his chair, to look at her. Wearing her skin-tight black uniform, the kind sipped up in the front, tall black boots and a cap over her long blond hair, she came just inside the door before leaning against the wall. The uniform was sipped down just enough for him to see the upper part of her cleavage, which made him feel more warm inside than the coffee ever could. He forgot all about the roaring winds outside and all about the ice-ball in the far back of the universe he was stationed on. She was definitely one, if not the only, perk about working on Regana.

"Guess where I've just been," Derrik ventured with a sly smirk on his face.

Junn threw up her hands. "Sorry. I noticed the power drain, but I was busy down in the repair bay. One of our clients wanted me, specifically, to take a look at his outdated Headhunter."

"You've got quite a reputation."

She moved away from the wall and eased her body into a chair beside him. "Whatever keeps them coming back."

Derrik nodded. "Not counting the Republic ships we get through here, we are the best, and the cheapest repair yard in this corner of the Galaxy. The best, because we have a great crew of mechanics working for us. The cheapest because we can allow ourselves to charge below ordinary prices because of our huge clientele."

She slammed her boots onto the desk. "I would have never fought this backwater planet could be so busy. Amazing we can attract this much business. We're swamped, Derrik."

"I got another five mechanics coming in tomorrow. All of them top grade. They'll help us pick up on the delays." He smiled confidently. "Setting up the rooms for the overnight guests was a great idea after all."

She nodded, her blue eyes glancing out at the mountain peeks outside. "I hope we'll pick up." Her eyes lingered at the horizon where the white and blue met, a yearning in her eyes. Then she looked over at him, a slight confusion on her face. "That guy with the Headhunter. I've asked a few of our security officers to keep taps on him. He bugs me."

Derrik felt that feeling again, the feeling that this was gonna be a bad day. "Care to elaborate?"

She pondered a moment before answering. "His hyperdrive was shot to death. I took a look at it, and I swear it looked like it was done deliberately."

Derrik sipped his caf. "Did he say it was done deliberately? Could just be another guy running from trouble."

"But it doesn't help us much if he brings trouble to us. We've had that kind of trouble before."

"And we'll handle it," he reassured her, "just like before."

She wasn't comforted. "Let me bring him up on a screen. You tell me there isn't something fishy about this guy." She pulled her feet down from the desk and started tapping away on a keyboard. The screen between them lit up with an image of the Headhunter, looking ready for scrap, with a man leaning against its nose, looking around at the activity surrounding him. She tapped on the keyboard and the angle changed to a close-up of his face.

Derrik immediately understood why she was so worried. He'd never seen anyone look so…concentrated. "Looks like he's staking out the joint. He's a little too observant for my taste."

She nodded. "I'm right, aren't I? When he told me about the repairs he needed, it was like he wasn't really to talking to me. He sounded like he'd rehearsed what he was gonna say." She leaned away from the screen, staring at the man. "He's trouble."

Derrik studied the man, noting his focused eyes. "Did you check him for weapons? Tell him about our no-weapons policy?"

She looked at Derrik, fear radiating from her eyes. "I was too scared to."

"You were scared?" The explanation sounded offbeat because Junn could usually handle herself pretty well in a fight. If the place had a bar, she'd be his chief bouncer.

"I don't know. I usually keep my fear in check, but this guy…I'm telling you its like meeting the monster you've always feared was under your bed when you were young."

Derrik smiled. "Oh, come on. It can't be - " He stopped mid-sentence as he unleashed a gigantic sneeze. He managed to cover his mouth fast enough to catch most of it. "Great, now I've caught a cold. Sorry bout that. I think its time I took a vacation or something, because - " He looked over at her to see her eyes wide open, and looking startled. "It was just a sneeze, Junn."

She pointed at the screen. The man was still there but he'd moved.

"He moved exactly when you sneezed."

Derrik wiped his nose. "He heard it?"

He saw her nod and they shared a glance between them for several seconds, both of them seeing the terror in each other's eyes. Derrick was the first to reach for his comlink. Junn had hers out a second later, trying to reach the two guys she'd ordered to watch the guy. Derrick had already requested ten more guys to the repair bay by the time she was done telling them to apprehend him. She put down her comlink, got up, and started padding herself down for bugs. Derrik thought maybe the man had planted a listening device on her. Derrick kept his eyes on the screen, reassured slightly that the man was still present next to his Headhunter.

Junn finished searching her form. "Nothing. Damn it, I knew something was wrong! I'll bet he smashed up his own ship."

Derrik rubbed his chin. "But why?"

Junn leaned over the desk, her eyes filled with worry as she stared at the screen. "Competing business, probably. Sabotage, maybe. That Headhunter could be loaded with explosives."

Derrick kept his stare on the screen also. "I had a feeling this would be a bad day. You think the shutdown of the generator is related?"

Junn didn't seem to like thinking things were worse than they already seemed. "Hardly. But he did show up around that time."

"What would he benefit from a powerdown?"

Junn shook her head.

Derrick's veins froze. He swallowed hard and watched the screen, and saw the man nervously twitch as the repair bay came alive with a new group of people. Derrik's reinforcements arrived in the shape of ten armed guards. As they marched in Derrik felt a slight pride in seeing his men perform professional behavior, raising their blasters and surrounding the man in mere seconds. Derrik raised from his chair, took off his gloves, and victoriously slammed them down on the desk.

"We got him."

Junn switched screens as a small light began blinking on their desk. The new screen showed them an image of a ship fighting to break through the persistent winds. The ship was rocked from side to side, but kept its course. Derrik pitied anyone onboard that ship so much he sympathised with Junn as she started hailing the ship to help it get to one of their hangars safely.

Derrik left her to it, and made his way down the control tower. He reached the repair bay soon enough, and found his men in accordance to plan, still keeping the man pinned. He walked up to the man, and slowly realizing the image of the man on the screen upstairs didn't do him justice. Long hair white as the snow itself, and eyes as deep and menacing as the night. Junn had been right, this was a creepy customer.

The man stared right through him, his eyes concentrated beyond the extreme. Not the slightest hint of fear on his face.

The words stuck in his throat. "I - I'm…Derrik Melar. I manage this repair yard. Who are you?"

Before the man could answer, not that Derrik had expected an answer, a huge boom resonated through the bay and soon after the bay doors opened in the far end of the hangar. The chilling wind rushed in, washing them all and Derrik felt cold again, and not just from the frost.

That odd feeling that this was a bad day came back as a new pristine ship hovered slowly through the gap in the doors, it was the ship he'd seen coming down through the storm, Junn must've let them in. He didn't recognize the ship, and from his years of experience he couldn't tell anything immediately wrong with the ship.

The bay doors groaned shut behind the ship and the roar of the wind vanished as the ship settled down next to the Headhunter. Derrik felt disorientated from his original task of apprehending and questioning the man, even more so when the ramp on the new ship lowered.

Derrik and his guards began to look worried, they felt out of place. The man with the Headhunter had thrown them off their guard, made them feel inferior, like they were involved in some grand plot where they played no part at all. The ten guards didn't know what to do, their blasters began to lower.

And as the two new people came down the ramp of the ship, a man and a woman, Derrik suddenly felt like the place he'd called home had never really been his. The man and the woman, the woman being of normal height with dark long hair and in her forties, walked to Derrik as if they'd pointed him out as the weakest of the herd. The woman was wearing a long black cloak with a hood that hung loosely on her shoulders.

However the man was the focus of all attention. Tall and rank, his silver gray hair and beard perfectly-trimmed, sharp features and a horrible scar running from the left side of his jaw to his left eyebrow. The grayness of his hair and his beard made Derrik place the guy to be in his early sixties, but his age didn't seem to have made him any weaker physically.

Except for a slight limp in his left leg, the man walked with a confident swagger, the way soldiers walked, his hands tucked into the pockets of his long brown coat, wearing a uniform underneath that Derrik had never seen before. The man's sheer presence exuded strength and confidence, accentuated by his piercing eyes. He didn't even spare the guards a glance as he closed in on Derrik and came to a halt one stride from him. He was overconfident.

He was smug.

And Derrik never doubted for a second he had a reason not to be. The woman stopped inches behind him, her face a bit uncertain but still very open and aware.

"Excellent work, Sonnet," the woman said over Derrik's shoulder.

Derrik turned around and locked eyes with the Headhunter's owner. The man nodded simply, his eyes staring right through Derrik.

Derrik felt completely out of place. "What...is going on here?"

In the back of his mind Derrik heard the door behind him open and he turned to see Junn step out with a blaster in her hand, aimed at him.

"You too, Eulogy," the woman continued.

Ignoring the bitter taste of betrayal at the back on his throat, he turned back around to the older man, who, if possible, was smiling even more smugly now.

The man bowed politely. "We are the Sons of Destiny," his voice was as clear and direct as lightning from a dark sky, "and we are taking over this station."

---

Jedi Master Luke Skywalker stepped off the lift and ignited his green lightsaber almost instantly. The green blade illuminated parts of the ravaged room, scanning over the floor, the carpet had been pulled up in several places and a thick layer of dust covered everything. Furniture was knocked over, the light fixtures dead, but still humming with electricity. Eight pillars supported the upper floor from falling down into the room, but it looked like their days were almost numbered. The building was part of a lower class section of Coruscant, Luke had followed a known information-broker to this sector, concerning a matter of great importance to the Republic.

Luke stepped past a knocked-over shelf, his eyes scanning the corners of the room and looking for tiny changes in the air or sounds, that would zero him in on Wedder's location. He could feel a presence in here, but it felt faint. Not like when Luke could see the person he was reading, when the person was standing in plain sight, it was easy to peer into the mind of a visible subject. But someone hidden usually presented more of a challenge. Fortunately the man's panicked emotions and racing heart should make him stick out like an X-Wing in the middle of an Imperial Fleet.

Yet it didn't.

This man knew how to control his mind, which was more than Luke could say for any other sentient he'd ever encountered who didn't possess the Force. There were not many ways to cloak oneself from a Jedi's touch, but this man had found one.

Luke flashed his famous boyish smile. "You cannot hide forever, Dhohji."

No answer came, and there was no change in the Force, everything remained as hidden and as secret as before. Luke continued to walk through the room, relying heavier on his own eyes now than he did on the Force. If the Force could not provide him with the man's location he would have to do without. Luke's grip on the lightsaber became sweaty, he couldn't explain his own nervousness, he only knew he didn't like the way things had shifted on him. He'd suspected Wedder to be a done deal. While Luke hated to boast about his own strengths, it was true that few people dared stand up to him, especially not a simple man such as this Wedder Dhohji.

Luke understood how information was brokered in the underworld, and he knew who to pay a visit if one needed information. People dealing in criminal activities, not that information brokering was espicially illegal, it all depended on the information, were usually easier to talk to. They always had the same weakness; money.

Luke had approached the man in public which he suspected could have been a bad move in hindsight. Wedder's associates might not have liked seeing him talking to a Jedi Master, it would be bad for business. And all Luke wanted was to talk, he didn't want to destroy any further assistance that Wedder might be able to provide in the future.

Luke looked down at his own hands. He couldn't remember the reason why he'd drawn his lightsaber, he only knew he'd felt it was appropriate at the time. Something was different about this man.

"Show yourself!" Luke commanded, adding his own touch of the Force in those words, trying to manipulate Wedder into showing himself.

Again nothing happened.

Luke sighed. He'd checked every corner of the room and no one was there. Maybe he'd chosen the wrong floor or maybe he'd misjudged Wedder. He scanned the room one last time using the Force and still he could feel a presence close by, but it was a presence somewhere beyond his touch with the Force or beyond the room itself. Luke didn't like to think he couldn't find the man because his touch with the Force might be dampened. Luke was a Jedi Master, the thought of something outside it he couldn't see or feel, was, in lack of a better word, impossible.

Luke found a set of windows in the back of the room, that looked out over other buildings outside, all of them laid in rubbles and decay, beyond repair and beyond condemning. The street between the buildings was sparsely used, Luke gathered, the dust coated over it suggested that no one had been using it for some weeks now. There were no footprints outside except for his own, leading from a parked speeder in an alley between two buildings across the street and leading into the entrance below him on the street level.

Luke powered down his lightsaber and let out a small sigh. He needed Wedder. Not along ago a bomb had detonated inside the Senate and many people had been killed. His own sister, Leia, had almost been killed in the blast, but luckily she came out of it with nothing but a pair of bruises and weakened hearing. Luke thanked the stars that both conditions would heal eventually. But the wounds that detonation had made on the New Republic would not heal as quickly. He needed to find Wedder soon, and find out if he had any idea or had heard anything about who might've been behind the attack.

Luke didn't understand how he could have missed the man.

"Because your mind is elsewhere," a raspy voice whispered from the shadows of the room.

Luke brought his lightsaber back up and ignited his green blade, sent out a Force-wave to search for the person in the shadows. He got nothing.

But an answer came as a form stepped out from between two pillars, the shadows dancing on the floor in front of him as the man lit his own lightsaber. The green blade hummed to life, snapping like a snake.

Luke fell into his guard stance, trying not to think of how he could have overseen this intruder. Trying not to think at all as he centered himself in the Force and allowed his nervousness to silently drown out in the shadows.

The intruder struck first, coming in with a wide right slash that Luke jumped back from, only to feel his back press up against the wall behind him. Luke recovered and lifted his hands to block another strike, another long swipe, that could have cleaved Luke in two if his block had been a second slower. But the force of the blow was strong enough to throw Luke to the floor, where he rolled to a safe position, his attacker's blade hacking through the floor behind him.

Luke noted his own performance, he'd done nothing so far to tip the edge of victory. A Jedi never attacked, a Jedi relied on defense, and only if the situation was inevitable would he take a life. Only if his attacker would not yield or surrender.

Luke had a feeling this one would never yield.

Luke sidestepped behind a pillar, only to cause its demise, as the attacker's green blade moved through the pillar like it was air, trying to hit Luke. The pillar section tumbled down and sent up a cloud of dust around the attacker.

Luke saw his opening.

Flinging out his hand he tossed his green lightsaber into the dust cloud. But a second green blade came out of the hazy dust-filled air and blocked the revolving lightsaber with a single handed grip. Luke moved his hand up and guided the lightsaber around to make another strike, but again his effort was ridiculed as his attacker displayed his perfect awareness of the surroundings.

Luke gasped as the attacker jump-flipped out of the dust-cloud, rolling to a stand, with a green lightsaber in each hand, the blades burning like torches. The shadow began walking closer to him, each footstep deliberately slow, as the man came towards the weaponless Luke Skywalker. Luke felt the wall against his back again, no way out.

The shadow stopped before him.

Luke tried to think of something he could do, reaching out to his own lightsaber in the enemy's grip he felt only emptiness surrounding it. He couldn't call the lightsaber to him. The intruder had blocked Luke's control of it. Luke looked up to see the face of his attacker but couldn't, it was too dark. The intruder stood there, not even panting, seemingly studying Luke like he was wounded prey. Like he was waiting for Luke to keel over and die of old age.

Luke inhaled deeply and thought of another strategy.

Talking.

"I'm looking for Wedder Dhohji. Last I saw him he ran in here, I didn't mean to intrude on your sanctuary."

The shadow's head tilted. "You'd give up that easily, Luke?"

The mentioning of his name at least revealed that the attacker knew who he was. Luke hoped that would somehow help reasoning with the man, although he didn't know how. Luke was getting old but he was still a Jedi Master. He hadn't forfeited yet, and if it came to more blows he had faith he would find of a solution or a weakness that would gain him victory. But the standoff could be used to squash any further attempts on his life, if Luke could reason with his attacker and assure him he hadn't come for him. Though he was somewhat surprised at the fact that someone like this intruder could have been hiding from his awareness on Coruscant. Someone so talented in the Dark Side -

Luke caught himself. There had been no indication or sensation of the Dark Side at any time, this attacker wasn't a Dark Side Adept. He was something else.

Luke nodded at the lightsabers. "You hold all the cards. Its up to you whether it ends here."

The shadow chuckled lightly, and powered down both blades. "Only a fool trusts his life to a weapon, Luke," the gruff voice said. "We both possess a weapon greater than these."

Luke agreed with the philosophy but he had a feeling he would feel a lot better if he had his weapon back. "Who are you?"

The shadow tossed Luke's hilt to him, and Luke caught it, very surprised at the sacrifice. If someone really wanted to kill him, as so many had tried before, this would go down in history as a lesson on what not to do if the chance came.

The shadow stared at him, his pose steady, no sign of any doubt or hesitance. "Take a walk outside your thoughts, Luke. These are troubled times, but you should know a friend, if not from his face, then by his voice," the ragged sound of his voice of somewhat familiar to Luke. The shadow started stepping into a single beam of light that glowed from the nearby window. Working its way up from the man's boots, the light revealed the man's identity. "You would think you'd remember me."

Luke felt the blood leave his face when the man's face was revealed. The man's cold blue eyes looked at Luke with a hint of respect but also pity. Long wild brown hair hung carelessly down the sides of the man's face, matching the beard growing along the man's strong chin. Luke, at first, didn't recognize him, the man's visage had changed since he'd seen him last, almost becoming more animal-like in appearance, his eyes displaying a ferocity that resembled a hunter more than a Jedi.

While his appearance could easily be compared to a predator there was also a placid kindness, almost a childlike innocence about him. A tired and humble nature about the man that made him look much older than he was, some ancient hurt in his eyes. Though Luke knew him to be only in his mid-thirties, the man looked much more grown, bordering on middle-aged.

On both his hands were red tattoos wrapping around his hands and wrists, like snakes. When the man carefully smiled, Luke caught a glimpse of the way he remembered the man in his memory and the joy of the reunion finally came to life in Luke's heart.

"Skar!"

Skar Kjoil clipped the hilt to his belt. "Didn't your mother ever tell you not to walk alone in places like this?"

Luke clipped his own lightsaber to his belt. "She might have."

Skar clapped Luke on the shoulder, taking a bit of the hit off. "I never met my mother either, but I know not to come to places like this." Skar walked away from Luke and stepped over to look out the window at the streets below. "I'm guessing your father never said anything either?" he added.

Luke forced a smile and a quick comeback. "No, but there were times where I think he would have wished he could have ambushed me like you did."

Skar hugged himself by the window, his back to Luke and his voice almost a whisper as he said, "I wouldn't claim any victory over you from what just happened. If you'd given it your all, I think things would've turned out differently. Still, I couldn't resist."

Luke walked up and stood beside his old friend, placing a palm on the Kjoil Knight's shoulder, easing things between them. He could tell Skar was somewhat ashamed of the way he'd approached Luke. They'd only fought once before, and it was a memory they both wanted to forget. But Luke understood why Skar had done it this time. And the friendship, that had grown between them since Skar had come to Coruscant nine years ago, forgave any action.

"I hope it never comes to a real fight between us. And you're right; my mind is occupied. I should almost thank you, you've made me see how stupid I was to come out here."

Skar's face showed no sign of redemption, only his eyes looked alive as they peered into the streets outside, a silent disturbance in his emotions. "I'm happy to have motivated you," he said coldly, making the words sound meaningless and without real intent.

"You can't blame me for being worried."

Skar glanced at him for a second. "You're talking about…the feeling?"

Luke leaned against the window, "You felt it too, I suppose. That cold tremor in the Force." His face darkened. "I felt the deaths of a million people, heard their screams as they cried out in terror with great suddenness. Its only happened once before and back then it was the first cry of the Death Star. It took out Alderaan. A feeling like that…is always an omen that a great evil has returned to our Galaxy."

Luke felt his words were pointless because of course Skar already knew about it. Luke had learned, ever since he'd first heard the name Kjoil, that Skar's touch with the Force was much stronger than any Jedi Master's, even stronger than Luke's own. And certainly stronger than his father, Anakin Skywalker, the late Darth Vader. Possibly Skar could have felt it sooner and much stronger than Luke.

Luke knew, as Skar had once told him at one of their first meetings years ago, that Skar wondered if his Kjoil lineage, which was stronger than the Jedi, meant that he was possible even stronger than his legendary uncle, Skind Kjoil. Skar had bested the clone of Skind Kjoil, but like Skar had said himself; that hadn't been a real battle. The clone hadn't had the same power as Skind, the genes were there, he had the potential, but he hadn't had as good a tutor as Skind. Skind had a longer, more thorough training.

Since Skar had come to Coruscant, since their first meeting nine years ago, Skar had been treated like a legend among the newfound apprentices in the Jedi Order, the famous nephew of the world's greatest Kjoil. It was funny to Luke how people disregarded the fact that the 'legendary' Skind Kjoil had turned to evil in the end, they remembered him for the good, not the bad. It was the opposite with Vader, Luke realized, Vader was remembered as the tyrant of the Galaxy, the greatest evil to fly between the stars.

Skar brought Luke out of his thoughts. "Do you have any clues, Luke?"

"I visited the Senate Chamber the other day, felt a strong presence from one of my former students. The name of one of those that left the Academy on Yavin. Brakiss. I will be taking off to Msst soon, Brakiss' last address." Luke snapped his fingers, remembering why he was in this part of the city in the first place. "What happened to Wedder?"

Then, Skar smiled and Luke's guard was thrown off. A true smile this time, an earnest smile as he turned his face to Luke. And Luke saw the pride radiating behind those blue eyes.

"Rishi's got him."

---

The truth was slightly different. In a much lower part of the capital Rishi Kjoil was in hot pursuit of the man. Rishi was sprinting as fast as he could through several broken down corridors which were littered with filth and debris. The tunnels were dark, darker for each level Rishi chased the man through, not to mention more corroded. The man was wearing rugged clothing, the type Rishi would expect from a derelict from a place like this. He hadn't been able to get a good look at the man so far, all he'd seen was the man's back as he chased after him.

Rishi tried not to think of the notion that he'd been after the man for a straight twenty minutes, without any progress of catching up to him. Rishi had the benefit of knowing simple statistics; such as the established fact that no man could run at the pace this man was running for twenty minutes straight, through such an uncharted and rough course as this. Not without either being of Force potential or a professional track runner. The man was neither, which meant he was either severely desperate and motivated, or something else.

Nevertheless Rishi felt confident that he was gonna catch this guy. One of the prime places for finding trouble was, despite what people thought, not in the highest levels of Coruscant, but at the lowest, those just beneath street level. Dressed in civilian clothes, Rishi had been keeping himself unnoticed from the casual pedestrians. The sight of a man walking by with a lightsaber on his hip, wearing a Jedi's cloak, would stir up attention and Rishi didn't want that.

His Master had told him that when he'd been younger on Nar Shaddaa, he'd had to hide his identity as well, most of the time dressing up like a vagabond to dissuade anyone about who he really was. This time Rishi had the blessing of the Force which made hiding from others much easier, he could cloak himself in the Force and people would not even notice him if he subverted their minds, giving him opportunity to go wherever he wanted unseen.

By request from his Master, Rishi had taken up pursuit of the man that Skywalker had been looking for. Rishi had followed the man after hearing from his Master, through the streets of Coruscant, light shining down from above the towering skyscrapers around him. The megalopolis was filled with activity as usual, the streets packed with residents hurrying about their daily routines. Rishi was able to keep the man in sight by assigning him a special feeling amidst the chaos. The man stood out among the innocent as a red glow.

The man had stepped into an alley and disappeared from Rishi's sight for a few seconds. When Rishi had reached the corner of the building and peered around the corner, the man was gone. Rishi had stepped into the alley, examining every detail of it with the Force but he couldn't sense the man's presence anymore. Only one clue had remained. A sewer-drain in the middle of the alley had been opened and a manhole was lying next to it. Rishi had crouched down next to the hole, immediately smelling the horrid stench coming from the sever below, but he was used to the smell from his many days of hunting criminals down there in the dark tunnels.

Then Rishi had looked at the manhole, an object he wouldn't have been able to lift himself without the Force. Rishi had followed the man into the hole and the moment he crashed down into the murky brown water, he sensed danger. He turned his landing into a backwards roll, pulling forth his lightsaber as he came back up. Two lilac beams of light came bearing down on him, but Rishi had raised his lightsaber and deflected both shots perfectly with his blue blade. Since then it had been a hunt through the seedy underbelly of Coruscant.

A quite different world existed beneath the surface of the city-planet. In the lower levels, where sunlight never touched, a maze of artificial lights and flickering holograms. Citizens from above and below intermixed in countless establishments offering escape, anonymity and more than just a hint of danger.

Popular belief was that the underground only boarded mutants and unnatural creatures alike, but there were millions of innocent people down here, whose only crime was the fact that they hadn't been able to maintain the tough requirements of the city above them. They'd lost their money, their families, and had no other hope but to retreat to the horrific conditions below to survive; if you could call it surviving. Desperate men performed desperate actions, he'd seen a lot of criminal acts down here that was spawned from nothing more than futility; people were hungry, people needed money, and the more they lived down here the more reckless and dangerous the options became.

Rishi came around a turn, barely managed to jump over a beggar sleeping quietly up against the wall. He could still spot the man in the distance, a hundred feet ahead of him. Luckily Rishi could see what to expect on the course ahead by looking at the man and seeing what he did, when he jumped, when he turned. Rishi knew his master didn't approve of him spending his days down below the surface hunting the local riffraff like he was some kind of neighborhood watchman.

His Master was wise in many aspects but he was being mired by the very thing he'd promised never to be mired under. His Master had grown soft and weak since they'd ventured to Coruscant together. Master Skar had come with reservations, but still with some honest intent. Rishi however had at the time been careful of what impressions Coruscant laid on him. He'd heard Master Skar's worries and reasons to dislike the place and took them as his own, he had no reasons not to like the place but his Master had not known at the time how easily affected he was. He grew a dislike to the place because Skar had a dislike to the place.

But rather than living with the feeling Rishi had chosen to do the thing he thought his Master would have preferred to do here. He looked out for the little men, the ones who were forgotten in so many talks of politics and treaties. The Senate, the true rulers of the Republic, were wasting their time trying to govern too many things at once. Solutions were forced quickly and no real heart was behind any of the decisions, Rishi thought. Democracy was a joke, just a filler in the news. That was one of the main reasons the underground of Coruscant had become as torn and devastated that it was. The Republic was trying to maintain a status quo in the entire Galaxy but things were wasting away right beneath their own feet.

That was what Rishi was fighting for. He knew he couldn't give these people new homes or better standards or money, but he could give them something that might just save their lives; security. Admittedly he knew he couldn't protect the entire planet, it was just too much ground to cover, but he had no idea at present state which part of the planet he was under. It didn't matter. Trouble was everywhere, he concentrated on those closest. He just followed his instincts and listened to the Force when he had to decide which direction to go. He knew that above a lot of people were hoping to take him out of there because they weren't sure of his intentions and that they didn't trust him but he wasn't gonna let that deter him from what he felt was right.

He had vowed to protect Coruscant, and that meant everyone on Coruscant. There was a fine line, one he sometimes found it hard to read, between evil and good down here. The person he saved one day, might turn around and hit someone over the head the next day for money. But Rishi had abandoned saving everyone, it was just not possible. He preferred to stay in the moment, which was all anyone could do at any point of their lives, in Rishi's mind, where he could do the best help. He let the worrying about the future to his Master.

Rishi dashed by a little hut full of people crowding around a small campfire as the guy forced him to follow him down through an old parking garage for airspeeders. The remaining speeders had been cannibalized to use as shelter, some of them had even been tilted on their side, supported by sticks to use as a home. This was really all the luckiest of them had, and if they were really lucky they wouldn't have to kill each other to get something to eat.

Rishi was getting fed up with this hunt. For half an hour he'd been running after this guy and there had been no progress so far. He was running low on his energy, even though he saw himself as someone with good stamina, this was taking a lot out of him. Maybe it was the poor air conditions down there. Up ahead Rishi believed he spotted a bridge. A sort of connection between the parking garage he was in now and a separate one. It looked really lousy, even for something down here. The concrete slap was cracked in several places and a good third of the bridge was missing and the support struts beneath the bridge hadn't seen repair in many decades, they were possible older than the Emperor had been.

Rishi slowed down his pace, applied some of his Force reserve to his telekinesis talent and stretched out with his mind to the bridge. The concrete slap was very compact, but with a fine selective touch he could break down its structure and pick out the weak spots. And those were the areas he would strike first.

Rishi couldn't take credit for this tactic, he'd remembered his Master talk about certain abilities he'd been able to use to his advantage. However his Master had used his psychometry for something slightly different. He'd been able to read a bridge's entire composure with the slightest touch. Rishi's approach to the task at hand was different, he tweaked one of the lower support struts, at the weakest section, which caused the middle of the bridge to rupture like a giant wound, before colliding in itself and ruining any chance of the perpetrator to use it as an escape.

The man didn't see it until he was too late. Sliding to a halt on his heels the man tripped over and went over the gap, barely managing to get a hold of the edge with his one hand. Rishi ran the last few paces and stopped over the gap, leaned down and offered the man his hand.

"The fall will kill you. Take my hand."

Wedder Dhohji's dusk face was filled with fear and sweat, a panicked expression in his wide open eyes, as he looked up into Rishi's face. Then he glanced at Rishi's hand but didn't seem to want to take it. "I'm already dead!"

Rishi tapped into the Force and read the desperation inside the man, indeed he was afraid. But not about dying. "What are you talking about?"

Wedder looked into the abyss below him, hundreds of miles down. A fall that would not only kill him but would make funeral expenses minimal. Whatever they would recover from him could fit in a contact lens casing. When he looked back up, there was a plea and desperateness to his voice.

"Listen to me! In a month there'll be no Coruscant, no Republic! The Dream! The Sons Of Destiny!"

Rishi sensed the warning in those words, and the fear. It was true fear. This man was not hallucinating, he wasn't making this up. What he said, he actually believed to be true. And knowing that made Rishi start to worry too. "Please - take my hand!"

The man shook his head. Instead he pulled out a datacard from his jacket and tossed it by Rishi's feet. "Take this...to your Master."

Rishi looked down at the card. "My Master? You mean Skywalker, the guy you're running from?"

The man's panicked face shook. "Skywalker can't know…too much at stake!"

Rishi leaned down to pick up the card, then he noticed the calm that came over Wedder's face, just a second before the man started slipping. Rishi ignored the card and jolted to grab the man's hand, hoping to save him for questioning. He touched Wedder's hand for a second, but the man was already lost and he went tumbling into the great abyss below him. Rishi could only watch as the information broker fell into the gray fog, disappearing from his sight, his scream echoing between the two buildings.

Rishi turned his eyes away from the fog, feeling a shred of grief. It wasn't easy to watch a man die, especially when you've felt so close to saving him.

"Damn it," he muttered under his breath.

His eyes caught the datacard lying by his boot, on its surface, drawn with crude red paint, the kind children made drawings with, was a symbol. A symbol Rishi knew all too well. How could he not, since it was tattooed on both his hands, as well as his Master's hands, it was painted on his lightsaber, it was stigmatized into his mind. It was his name.

It was the symbol of the Kjoil.

---

The street outside the building felt dead in the Force to Skar, a light breeze blew by, towing a dust-cloud, but there was absolutely no sign that any living thing called this place home. Skar took in a big breath of the dusty air, looking around he saw the buildings, full of decay and seemingly eaten from within by some unknown force, maybe time. He found it hard to believe this place existed in the same place as the capital of the Galaxy. The outside picture of Coruscant was just towering skyscrapers and steel shining like a second sun. This place was so deprived of hope, so empty and cold. Skar didn't understand why Rishi spent much time in places like this, and even worse than this.

Skar perched himself on the back of Luke's speeder, brought his legs up and hugged them in to his chest. He knew Rishi had found the information broker but the touch had then severed, quickly and too violently for Skar to feel any comfort in the apprehension. It had been long since he'd reached out to Rishi this way and it brought some happy memories and some others, some bad ones, that he wished he could stow away in the back of his mind, so he'd never have to look at them again.

The relationship and friendship between Skar and Rishi was, to say the least, malfunctioning. Rishi had become a rogue, a renegade, he had separated himself from Skar two years ago and they'd not spoken since. It felt so long ago that Skar found it hard to remember what the feud had been about. Recently Skar had called out to Rishi to help Luke find Wedder, it had come as a reflex and Skar remembered the awkwardness that had come after the communication. Reaching out to Rishi for help had come as instinct and the sound of him, the feel of his apprentice in his mind, had almost made Skar cry. He missed the boy so much.

Skar frowned to himself. He's nineteen, he's no longer a boy. I remember what I was like at nineteen. I was just like him. He's rebelling against authority just like I did, recklessly. Striking out on his own, staking his own claims. Becoming a man.

Skar had felt the inevitable question coming even before Luke brought it out. "Isn't it about time you and Rishi patched up your friendship?"

"Friendship?" The word awoke old memories in Skar, memories of when he'd first met Bo-Hi Dzog on the roof of a building on Nar Shaddaa. The Jedi Master had reacted the same way when Skar had asked him about his relationship with his friend Kayupa. Master Bo-Hi had reacted that way because the companionship between apprentice and master was much stronger than any normal friendship. But Skar found it hard to feel the same way. "I think friends would be a step up from where we are now. A big step," Skar said mournfully, "but its a step I hope we can take together someday."

Luke understood. "People grow apart sometimes, but if the friendship is worth it they find their way back. If you want the friendship back, then work for it."

Skar nodded. "I know. I just don't know where to start. Rishi's arrogant and uncontrollable. He thinks he's gonna save the Galaxy."

Luke smirked. "Be careful what you say, you might tempt irony." Luke's eyes looked over Skar's clothing, drawing a smile on the Jedi Master's lips. "Strange to see you in a Jedi uniform. Must've been a hard decision."

Skar knew Luke was hinting at the dislike Skar had to common Jedi rituals and dogmas, because of his own unique touch with the Force. "Its laundry day. Everything else was dirty."

Luke expected a reply of that nature but took no offence. "When you came to Coruscant, pledging your allegiance to the Jedi Order, I knew how hard it was for you. A commitment to the Jedi Order is not one easily broken. And in your own way you've dealt with it. You haven't done that much work inside the Order. You've stayed outside on your own…I guess I've never really known whether you regretted coming here."

Skar pulled his head down between his kneecaps. "Luke, we're both shaped by the same thing. We both know the Force and we honor it. The problem is I honor it so much that I always doubt if I'm doing what it wants from me."

Luke leaned against the speeder. "Everyone doubts themselves at some point. Even me," he chuckled, "I've made some bad choices at times. I've had to rebuild the Jedi Order because I knew it was my destiny, but I've also doubted how far I would have to go. I'm not going to live forever, and I have to make the best of the time I've been given. The Jedi Academy is running itself mostly, I don't spend much time teaching in person. There are other Jedi Masters now, I've laid the groundwork for the next generation of the Jedi and future generations as well. All we can really do is look to the present and see where we're needed."

Skar lapsed into thoughtful silence. His eyes searching the surroundings, hoping somewhere in all of it an answer was lying in wait. Skar glanced at Luke. "I don't regret joining the Jedi Order, for whatever good I've done in it, but I'm growing weary of it again, doubting it is here I'm still meant to be. I'm having a hard time feeling grounded."

Skar could feel Luke's strong gaze. The Jedi Master must've been sad to hear Skar's thoughts. The two were friends and Skar knew if he'd ever had to leave Coruscant, talking with Luke would be one of his biggest longings. Luke was a good counselor, and a good friend. "Do you feel drawn to another place?"

Skar sighed. "The past."

"The past?"

"I…concentrate on my role in the future, but my thoughts always come back to the past. To where I was before this, to what I've experienced. I can't let go of it."

Luke's voice became soft. "Bad memories?"

Skar reminisced, an old torment pulling itself upon him. "Terrible memories. Nightmares." Skar knew that Luke knew about his past, and the things he'd been through. He knew about Shinran, about Master Bo-Hi, about the Jentarana. About Skind Kjoil and his ghost. And about the clone of Skind Kjoil, though Skar had never revealed the name or the friendship Skar had shared with the clone.

With Kayupa.

Skar hadn't said Kayupa's name out loud in nine years. Almost as horrible as the loss of Shinran, Kayupa was always haunting his soul. Kayupa was a wound that Skar believed would never heal, a pain that was never-ending. Even when he looked in the mirror he saw him there. Kayupa was always crawling beneath his skin, a memory of Skar's determination and his betrayal. No matter how evil Kayupa may have been, Skar felt like a traitor inside for having to kill the man. So much so that Skar was always wary of Luke, the Jedi Master a friend to him, but knowing that Luke couldn't fill the hole inside Skar by half.

Some mornings Skar would wake up, his first instinct to go train with Kayupa. But then the realization would come over him and Skar would fall back onto his pillow, try to fall asleep again, hoping he would wake up the same way and for even that brief moment Kayupa would still be alive. It was the same with Shinran, sometimes when there was a slight wind, he would close his eyes and imagine it was her blowing softly against the hairs on the back of his neck. In the evenings he would tug himself into his sheets, pretending that softness and warmth he felt lying there was her body lying next to him.

Even though Shinran's last words had advised him to move on and forget about the past he couldn't. He'd thought he could but…it was too lonely. Skar had wanted to build a foundation from his past to move forward, but the only advance he had made was his apprentice, and even that venture seemed to have failed. He could also have gone ahead to train the new Kjoil generation but even that seemed doomed in advance to him, he didn't really know where to begin to teach them.

Losing Rishi was one thing, but losing all of the Kjoil because he just wasn't teacher material was a fear he never wanted to see manifested. None of it really mattered to him, not the way he knew it should, for reasons of their own.

Skar didn't know where to turn his attention, didn't know where to devote his strength. All he knew was how to lose himself in the grief that had been with him for a decade, a pain that had always watched over him like a cloud hanging over his head. All that remained of his wishes about what he wanted to do for the future, was how to make the dreams vanish. Nine years it had been, but it felt like yesterday.

He had let Master Bo-Hi die.

Shinran had given her life for him.

He hadn't been able to save Kayupa.

He felt like he had failed them all and that his failure was still growing with each day he spent missing them.

In the end Luke looked down at the street, kicking a small pebble away with his boot. "Come what may, I've always admired you."

Skar made a dry laugh. "Why?"

"Your heritage. You can make choices I can't. You have abilities I don't. Sometimes I've wondered if it should have been you that started the Jedi Academy in the first place. And I still hope at times, you'll one day accept a teaching position there. You could teach the next generation so much."

"Other people just complicate my life," Skar said wryly, "I don't like getting more involved then I have to."

"You sound like Rishi when I asked him the same question."

Luke's words hurt a little. Skar didn't know Luke had kept contact with Rishi. It'd been two years since Skar had last seen the face of his apprentice, but apparently Rishi had stayed in touch with Skywalker since then. Skar felt a tinge of jealousy. Maybe fixing things with the boy wasn't going to happen at all. Rishi had become his own man. There was no reason to think he even wanted to rebuild his relationship with his Master, or that Rishi was even aware of the fact that his apprenticeship wasn't over.

Unlike Skar, Rishi had joined the Jedi Order fully, becoming one of Luke's agents but Rishi's approach to his duty as a Jedi had been slightly unorthodox. Even the Senate was acting against Rishi, fearing he was doing more damage than good. To the ones that lived underground the thought of a Jedi hero that was looking out for them was reassuring, but the Senate was more worried about this young man that was trekking through the city below them, doing things they couldn't monitor. They'd made a huge case of his standoffish behavior towards the Jedi and none of them were ready to trust the young man.

Rishi had made the mistake of publicly announcing his wishes and intentions, while Skar was, officially, as much part of the Jedi order as any Jedi, while off the record he had no involvement whatsoever. Skar had never spoken out on Rishi's behalf, but Skywalker had been forced to stand up for Rishi on numerous occasions, trying to preserve the peace and unity within the Jedi community, and the general community as well. Skar admired that Skywalker bothered to do so, though he knew he wasn't changing anything. This was where Rishi felt he belonged in this time of his life. No Senate and no Skywalker was gonna change that. Skar knew that because he used to be the same way.

Skar had seen a lot of growth in the boy over their nine years together. When Skar had taken him as an apprentice, he'd shown great potential. He'd been able to hold his own against the minions of the Dark Side on Draori, and come out of it alive. He'd shot through most of his training with so much ease that even Luke had suggested if Rishi could help train some of the other students on Coruscant, to help speed up their own progress. Skar didn't for a second imagine that Rishi would ponder such a position, he just wasn't the type, and nor had he. Rishi had abandoned the offer, giving no other explanation to Skywalker than he didn't have the time.

In secret Rishi had confessed he didn't take the job because he felt his Kjoil training, the things he knew, were no good in Jedi training. The Kjoil and Jedi were different in the manner that the Kjoil could act out on their emotions, they could feel anger, and they could feel hate, without suffering the consequences a Jedi would. Skar himself had never been as good as Rishi to separate the two philosophies, mostly because he didn't feel that his anger or fear helped further anything. His training had been a mixture of Jedi and Kjoil, the best of both worlds.

Rishi had always treasured himself, worked to set himself above others. He was still coming into his age, his identity had only just been structured, so he was still very stubborn and always sought to prove himself as the teenager he still was, testing to see if the strength he believed to possess actually existed. And his renegade operations in the underground was a side affect of that. He was playing the lone ranger role that Skar had once played.

The want to be alone and still make a difference, Skar feared Rishi had learned too much from him in that aspect.

"What were you doing out here?" Luke asked, barging through his thoughts.

Skar had no answers. "I...like it out here."

"Here?" Luke looked puzzled. "But its a dead zone."

"I know," Skar said, staring at the ground, "I belong here."

Luke shook his head slowly, watching Skar sit there like a living embodiment of sorrow. "You can't mean that."

"Luke, there's - " Skar felt something moving in the Force, a wave of despair that washed over Luke and Skar. Something intangible, but a feeling Skar had felt before. Skar's hand flew up to grasp the clothing over his heart, anticipating the pain exploding there. He felt like a spear had been driven through it. Grunting in pain he slipped off the speeder and rolled over on his back on the street.

Luke jumped to help him but Skar held up his hand to ward him off. The pain continued through his body, like it was doing a survey of every cell in him. Skar tried using the Force to stop it, but it was no good. The Force couldn't help him. Skar curled up into a fetal position, his teeth barred and his eyes closed shut. The pain reminded him of the time he'd been beaten by aliens on Nar Shaddaa. It was similar, although he wished he was being beaten instead. That way he could confront that which made him suffer.

Gradually the pain seeped out of him, leaving him panting on the ground, slowly unfolding his limbs again and opening his eyes only to be blinded by the sunlight. Skar pushed himself up, still warding Luke off, confident that he could take care of himself.

Skar stumbled over to the speeder, his hand still wrapped around the clothing over his heart. He could still feel residue of the pain there, biting away at his heart. He knew Luke was gonna ask him questions, so he thought he might as well get right to it.

"I don't know."

Luke grimaced. "Why didn't you want me to help you?" he asked hastily.

"I was hoping it would wear off."

"How can you say that when you don't know what it was? It could have been a heart-attack or an influence from the Dark Side? What if it had killed you?"

Skar jumped up onto the speeder and grabbed a flask on the backseat filled with pure blue water. Unscrewing the cap he emptied the contents into his mouth, feeling better, feeling close to alright again. "It didn't kill me the last time." Skar flung the empty flask out into the street, breaking in hundreds of glass shards, the memory of the pain too great for him to care about polluting.

Luke had his arms wrapped around himself. "You've had these attacks before?"

"They're not attacks," Skar said calmly.

"Do you know what they are?"

"Listen, if I tell you this, it stays between you and me," Skar specified, "you can't tell Rishi."

Luke frowned. "You can't ask me to do that, you're my friend. If you need help I'm going to help you. Its not fair to leave Rishi out of it, he cares for you also."

Frowning at those words, Skar felt like calling Luke a liar. "Maybe. Every time it feels like a heart-attack, I don't know what it specifically is, or if I'm doing anything to trigger it. I only know it comes once every few months. It does feel Force-related, although it doesn't seem to respond when I try to block it with the Force." He hoped the words would satisfy Luke's curiosity. Skar might have his own thoughts about what it could be but he didn't feel like telling Luke before he could be sure.

Luke walked over and drew himself inwards. Skar could feel Luke's gentle attempt at breaking his mind-barrier and Skar allowed him. Luke enclosed himself in the Force and searched Skar's body for any irregularities. Skar felt Luke's mind wander inside him and allowed the Jedi Master to trespass every corner of his mind and body to try and find anything that could have caused the trauma. Skar felt his mind being invaded as the Jedi searched his thoughts. Going through them made Skar see them too and the images flashed before him like pictures in a photo-album.

At first it was nothing, just images and feelings from the days before and later the weeks before. Luke went further back into Skar's memory than Skar cared to remember, images of the Jentarana flashed before his eyes, making Skar's hands twitch. A picture came of Kayupa and then it was gone again, leaving Skar momentarily saddened. The images of Nar Shaddaa and of Lwen were welcome, but images further back than then he didn't recognize. There were things in there even he didn't remember and wondered as to why he'd never tried searching his own mind before.

One image emerged; a woman. The picture was hazy at best but he could make out her courageous smile and her sad eyes. And his father, although much more blurred than the picture of his mother, but Skar could feel the presence of his father. He stood behind her as they both looked upon him, both of them very distraught and clearly affected by something. The image disappeared and Skar thought that was the end of it, but Luke went even further -

Without warning Luke's probe stopped, and Skar opened his eyes to see again. Luke Skywalker was lying on the street, still alive, but something had thrown him back onto the ground. Skar rushed to help him stand, and Luke came up, shaking his head in amazement and confusion. Skar helped Luke to sit on his speeder as the Jedi Master recovered.

"What happened?"

Luke was still shaking his head. "I'm not sure," he said calmly, "I think I hit a wall, a barrier in your mind. Maybe I went too far. I didn't find anything."

Skar expected as much but was more occupied with making sure Luke was okay. He couldn't believe the Jedi Master had been flung back like that. "A barrier?"

"Things in your past I can't read. Its nothing, most people whose minds I've touched have them. When you go back later than the person remembers, the mind resists. All Jedi have mental defenses against probing any…uncomfortable memories."

Skar sat next to Luke and didn't know if he should apologize to Luke for what had happened. It wasn't like he'd done it on purpose.

Luke looked over at Skar, a careful edge to his glance. "Maybe…you've inherited a genetic flaw from your parents."

Skar felt skeptical. "Like what?"

"There are many diseases in the Galaxy. Maybe you should go to a med-station and have your blood checked out. It could be nothing, or it could be everything. I really think its the wisest choice."

Skar nodded, maybe Luke was right. "The attacks have come often as of lately for some reason. Increasing in pain every time."

Luke shook Skar's shoulder roughly for encouragement. "Whatever it is, go see someone. If its been recorded before, we have the best medical staff here on Coruscant, I'm sure they can help you. Meditate on it," he added, almost by reflex.

Skar nodded but didn't agree. "You know I don't meditate, Luke. It doesn't work on me."

Luke shrugged, still affected by the push that had knocked him to the ground. He was settling himself in the Force, regaining his former concentration and focus. Then he got up and shook himself off before saying, "I mentioned earlier that I'd be leaving for Msst soon. Unless Wedder has anything to tell me, I'll be leaving tomorrow." Luke cleared his throat. "If you hear from Rishi, tell him to contact me if he has any information."

Skar nodded slowly, the sound of Rishi's name always made him downshift in moods. "You're leaving now?"

"This place yes, but I won't be leaving Coruscant until tomorrow. There's some problems with the X-wings right now, routine maintenance ordered by General Antilles. I wanted to leave sooner but I can't. Seems like its all happening at once."

Skar waved him off. "Don't worry about me. You focus on Brakiss," Skar swallowed the bitter lump in his throat, "and if I hear from Rishi I'll pass him on to you." Skar's voice took on a much darker tone. "Though I think he'd report to you first before he reported to me."

True enough Luke's comlink began buzzing. Luke pulled it from his belt and clicked it on. "Skywalker."

The young voice that came through on the other end, a voice Skar had once been so used to, now sounded like a complete stranger. "…Master Skywalker, it's Rishi, I've found Wedder, or rather I had found him. He's dead now."

"How?" Luke asked.

Rishi's response was a little slow. "…he took a long walk off a short bridge. I tried saving him, but he seemed intent on it happening. But he did leave behind something. A datacard. I haven't been able to see what's on it. I think we should check it out. It might have something to do with the bombing of the Senate."

Skar and Luke exchanged glances.

"Master Skar is there with you, isn't he?" Rishi asked.

"Yeah, he's right here," Luke replied. "Do you want me to bring him?

"Yeah, this involves him too. I can tell the card is encrypted. I know someone who can decrypt it for me. I'll meet you…the usual place. I'll call you once I've got the card decrypted."

"Okay."

Rishi signed off and Luke put the comlink away. The Jedi Master noticed Skar sat staring at the ground, a weakness about the way his shoulders were slumped. "What's wrong?"

Skar glanced at him. "You have a usual place?"

Luke smirked. "Rishi is a very capable Jedi. He's been able to provide me with intelligence before. I trust him and value his help." Luke folded his cloak around him. "Rishi is still growing, you have to allow him to make his own decisions in life. He has to follow his own path."

"Right," Skar said wryly. "Can I hitch a ride with you back to the city?"

"Sure."

Skar hopped into the speeder's passenger seat, while Luke took the controls. He powered up the repulsorlifts and the speeder hovered above the street, blowing dust into the air, then they sped off, climbing in altitude until the condemned part of the city was nothing more than a memory in their minds. The air felt cooler this high up, due to the wind blowing in their faces.

Luke had to raise his voice for Skar to hear him. "Any special place you want me to drop you off?"

"The training center," Skar replied.

Luke cast him a curious glance. "Why do you go there each day?"

Skar stared ahead, knowing the answer wouldn't please Luke. "Its my meditation. I have a feeling I'm going to be needing my reflexes soon, just a precaution."

"These are troubled times, Skar, but the Force will guide us."

"Yeah," Skar replied emotionlessly. But guide us where?

---

Coming out of hyperspace, the Civilian, a modified Quasar Fire-class bulk cruiser, slowed its progress and drifted slowly above the white orb that was Regana. Its captain, a man named Jovis, monitored the planet with a look of resignation across his face from inside the bridge. He'd been to the repair yard once before, back then for repairs, but he had no idea he would ever see it again. Especially not for the kind of task he'd undertaken.

The first thing he noticed was that all the orbital repair stations had been shut down, their black hulls floating lifelessly in space above the giant white planet. Last time he'd been there, the space around Regana had been alive with dozens of large cruisers and frigates, hundreds of small insectoid skips fluttering back and forth while they repaired hull damage and other injures the ships had sustained. The space around Regana was quiet, the only activity being a pair of starfighters flying in patrol patterns, streaking across the planet at full speed.

A pair of them moved off from their pack to intercept the Civilian, but Jovis wasn't too concerned. He hailed the two fighters before they had the chance.

"This is the captain of the Civilian. I've been...summoned."

No answer came immediately. Jovis assumed the pilots were checking his claim with their superior. Meanwhile Jovis turned to his second in command. "Keep the weapons systems ready, we don't know what to expect."

The subordinate, a robust Arkanian, followed his orders and voiced his own concern in a low voice. "You do not trust the Bothan?"

There's a contradiction in terms, Jovis thought. "Bothans are the very hands of deception."

"Then why are we here?"

Jovis had pondered at that one too. Jovis was the leader of a small weapons-for-hire faction; mercenaries. Lately the Republic had been putting an end to most of his long time clients. Money was running low and his crew needed money. The Bothan's proposal had been a blessing truly, one long overdue, but Jovis was not the religious type. Bothans were well known for their inability to stay loyal to anything except money and themselves.

If this terrorist group needed some backup in taking on the Republic, Jovis was more than happy to put in his effort. Right now, fifty mercenaries were lounging in their quarters onboard the Civilian. Recently they'd begun to complain about the lack of money flowing to them. As their leader they trusted Jovis to find opportunities and profit for them. It wasn't his fault the Republic was tightening their reins and reducing the lack of jobs for people like him.

If the Bothan hadn't shown up when he did, Jovis's head would have lying in a sewer somewhere and his body in an entirely different system. Mercenaries got paid to kill, so in a way it would have been a compliment that they would kill him for free. Just like Bothans, mercenaries thought only of themselves. And this bunch was especially bad. A ragtag crew of misfits who lived only to fight and to kill in the name of the mighty credit.

Jovis sighed. "Desperate times. We can't afford to be too choosy anymore."

The Arkanian glanced down at his screen as a blip appeared on their tactical readout. "Captain, another ship has entered the system."

Curious about the whole situation, Jovis decided to do a little investigation to learn more about his new employers. He walked to stand behind his subordinate, reading over his shoulder. "Can you tell me where it came from?"

The man tapped a few commands on his station, then shook his head. "Unknown Regions, that's all I can say for sure." Then he looked at a separate screen, to see the one blip now changed into five. "Incoming signal has broken off into five separate signatures."

Jovis's eyes widened. "What?"

"Each unit the size of a Star Destroyer - but not Star Destroyers."

"Do you recognize the signature?" Jovis started walking towards the viewport to see these ships for himself.

"No, sir. I've never seen anything like it. It's…" The Arkanian looked up at the viewport to see the ships for himself. "There!"

When Jovis's eyes finally found the ships creeping their way around the corner of his viewport, he had to step back, stumbling into an unwanted seating in his command chair. The ships were huge, precisely the length of a Star Destroyer, one point six kilometers of steel, but almost three times as high. Wide as a Destroyer also the ship however possessed a profoundly different design. At first glance Jovis would have resorted to calling it a living creature, but the huge tail of engine exhaust trailing it betrayed that notion.

The slug-like design was what had made Jovis designate it as living, the whole ship portrayed a giant worm crawling through space, at one million times the speed of a normal worm albeit. The hull was painted pitch black which contributed to its impressive build, since the darkness of space almost worked as a natural cloaking device for the ship.

If they hadn't been so close to it, Jovis doubted they would have been able to see it. Along the oval shape of the ship were bulges on its surface, each of these irregularities bristled with small dots of light that Jovis suspected were viewports, and that the light was coming from inside the ship. As far as he could tell there were no hangar openings; which meant this ship couldn't carry starfighters.

That worried Jovis, if a ship that size wasn't meant to carry starfighters, how else would it protect itself? If it was only meant to carry personnel, troops and soldiers, and a Star Destroyer could carry up to almost fifty thousand people, why would this terrorist group need his fifty mercenaries?

"I have a very bad feeling about this."

The other man consented. "I do not blame you. The ship - ships are designated Watchmen 1 to 5."

"Can you give me an estimate of people onboard?"

The man checked his readings and made a suspicious frown. "Four of them have only thirty or so people onboard, standard skeleton crew. But Watchmen 3 - is packed to the brim. Readings say some twenty thousand lifeforms onboard."

Jovis corrected him. "That's not even close to stuffing a ship of that size. Something else is onboard the other four ships, enough to take up the entire ships. Watchmen 3 must be the only one carrying troops." Jovis swallowed. "Twenty thousand people? That's not a terrorist group - that's an army!"

The Arkanian nodded. "The unpacked Watchmen could be carrying their ground vehicles, walkers and speeders."

Jovis wasn't so sure. "There are no hangar openings. Unless they plan to peel the ship open, they can't get something like a walker or a speeder off the ship." Jovis stepped closer to the viewport to inspect the ship. "Maybe the ship's themselves are weapons...these terrorists have something up their sleeves."

"The Watchmen are unarmed. They'll be useless in battle."

"Maybe that's what we're meant to think. Deception has killed as many people as direct assaults have." Jovis was beginning to wonder if turning back and leaving was the best course of action. Whatever was going on here he wasn't sure he wanted to be a part of it. But how would he explain that to fifty armed lunatics in short of credit?

Jovis watched as the fleet of five slugs crawled past the patrol ships and made their way through the atmosphere, their black shapes looking like dark clouds over the white orb of Regana.

"Sithspawn - what's going on around here?" he muttered to himself.

Four starfighters lined up on both his sides, one of them so close Jovis could see the pilot waving back at him. Soon afterwards a male voice crackled over the comm. "Red Knight Lead here. Civilian, you are cleared for approach. The General sends his warmest regards for your aid in our struggle."

Jovis cleared his throat before answering. Deciding to find out more in a more subtle way. "We're happy to help out brothers in spirit. Its about time the Republic learned their lesson."

The comm stayed silent for a long time, then a short laugh broke though. "Very well," the pilot coldly replied, giving no definite lead for Jovis to go on, "follow my tail through the atmosphere. Be wary, the winds are no joke."

Jovis settled into his captain's seat, and nodded to his second in command. The Civilian fired up its engines and followed the single starfighter prancing around outside the viewport. Jovis tried to think of one reason why he didn't blast the starfighter out of the screen, and run for the nearest hyperjump. Swallowing his worries, Jovis found he couldn't find one good reason.

He could find fifty.

"Lead the way, Red Knight."

The comm answered, and the words felt more like a warning than a greeting to Jovis. "Welcome to Regana."

---

Junn had forgotten how easily time was wasted when she was bored. How quickly the hours passed her by, never to be recaptured. To her, feeling bored felt like an alarm going off in her head that her capable resources were being wasted.

That alarm was blaring now.

Junn stepped through the sealed hatch into the recently redesigned storage room. The hatch lead her out onto a narrow walkway above the storage room which had been emptied of the supplies and weapons to make room for the hundred hostages. Packed like fish in a can, there they all were, their scared and tired eyes looking up at her, their former colleague, as she paraded her way out to the center of the walkway above their heads.

Two soldiers patrolled the walkway always, keeping their alert eyes trained on the hostages in case of trouble. Although all the doors in and out of the storage had been welded shut, and it was no job for bare hands to open, it was only wise to have guards posted.

Actually there were only ninety-eight hostages. Junn and Derrik were the only ones that'd worked here who was not imprisoned in the dank escape-free storage room. A week had passed since she'd betrayed Derrik and the Hope's Haven repair yard into the hands of the terrorist group. She'd planned the takeover for months in advance, this repair yard a vital part of a scheme that had yet to bloom to its true form. A scheme in which she herself had been part of planning, and in which she played a strong part.

Six months ago she'd obtained her position as chief supervisor of the facility after she'd handed in an impressive looking résumé, complete with grades at the top of her class and many letters of recommendation. She'd been the best in her class at the academy.

It was, of course, all fake. She had no education in supervising a facility such as this, therefor she could never have been the top of her class, in an academy that didn't even exist. Derrick's loins had been the most convinced, and some might say the easiest to convince, when he'd given her the job. She didn't mind knowing her looks had gotten her the job. It was an invited assurance, but she'd never really doubted her appearance to be appealing to the opposite sex. Which had at some times made her real profession and education a little troublesome.

She was the squad leader of the Sons of Destiny army, and only one man was above her in rank. The true leader of the Sons of Destiny had handpicked her as his most trusted lieutenant, and he'd trained her vigorously for the past thirteen years, ever since the Battle of Endor. He'd insisted on her spending her time training the other soldiers, rather than training herself. But she'd always believed that a person such as her, a warrior, could never learn everything. Her leader was a true genius in her mind, so she'd continued to spend time training and learning from him, while also training the soldiers afterwards, passing on the very knowledge to them, that she'd only learned the days before.

She would never finish her training, and she would rather die than ever acknowledge there was nothing more to learn. All warriors were fated to die on the battlefield, but she would prove otherwise. If she would ever claim to know everything there was to know about combat, then the day she died at the hands of an enemy, would be a disgrace. A soldier could never learn everything.

The two soldiers saluted her and she answered them with a crisp nod, barely giving them the attention they'd hoped to receive from their superior. Being a woman had made her job rough when she'd joined the army but she'd proven her abilities enough to make anyone else in the army draw away from her. They didn't see her as a woman anymore, she was their drill sergeant. It worked for both parties, she wanted respect, not admirers.

Junn leaned against the railing with both hands, sent a small smile down to all the people she'd betrayed. One of them threw a shoe at her, drawing the attention of the two soldiers who traced the shoe with their rifles, but discounting it the moment it flew past her, not even close of hitting her.

Junn retorted with a sigh. "Such foolishness won't benefit anyone."

"Traitor!" one of them shouted.

"What do you think will happen once the Republic finds out about this?" a voice cried from among the masses. "They're not going to give in to your demands! Its against their policy!"

Junn understood the man and he was right. That's why it was so easy for her to draw on a vicious smile and support herself against the railing, looking down upon them, knowing what they did not. Knowing the facts that made the entire situation anything but predictable.

"What demands?"

The mutterings and curses amongst the hostages drowned out, like the sound of the silence after an explosion. Junn took great pleasure in their confusion. They would all understand what was going on at this station eventually, that was why she was here. It didn't matter what they thought, or what their stereotypical pictures of terrorists were. The General had informed her to deliver the truth to the hostages, one that would quiet them and make them cooperative.

Very cooperative.

"As you will note, you're all here." Junn held out her arms to include every last hostages. "None of you have been armed or injured. And as long as you don't rebel against our control, you stay that way. Many of you knew me before this debacle and to those of you, I apologize. From now on you will know me...as Eulogy," a codename given to her among the ranks of the army, "I have betrayed your trusts and manipulated many of you. To those of you who until now wasn't even aware that I'd worked here," she smirked," it is a big place after all, the others will tell you all you need to know."

A single man shouted. "Tell us what's going on here! What is it you want! Who are these people!"

Junn took in a big breath. "They are the Sons of Destiny," she said as if it explained everything. "We are crusaders, an army, until a week ago without a home."

"You're making this place your base?"

"Not quite," Junn stated. "Just temporarily. Then the repair yard will be back in your hands and life will be back to normal. But we are using it as a station. A station from which the Sons of Destiny will mount their attack."

And so Junn continued to talk for another hour, explaining the details of their plan and their effort there. Making sure that any question was answered and that everybody was left feeling that they hadn't been kept in the dark. This was the boredom she had feared. As a veteran soldier she knew that once hostages had been taken, you couldn't just ignore them. Most of the time you'd have a few heroes on your hands and then stupidity would follow like an infection among the others.

It was important to let them understand everything, make them feel safe, as much as was possible. The hostages watched and listened with mixed skepticism. Some called her a lunatic, others shushed so they could hear everything, but in the end everyone had a face that portrayed confusion. It wasn't important if they understood the capacity of the Sons of Destiny or not, it was only important they understood the reasons behind their capture. And Junn had explained to them why it was so important. Why the mission the Sons of Destiny had chosen for themselves was paramount.

Once the 'interview' was over, Junn departed the storage room, running into a lonely officer who saluted her and handed her a datapad. She read the tiny screen, it was a report on a new batch of ships that had entered the system.

The rest of their army.

As well as a single cruiser, the Civilian, their newfound mercenaries allies. Junn was reminded of the Jovis's group. A motley crew of homicidal maniacs who looked like they were the reason behind the term gun-control. Their presence she could do without, but she didn't doubt her General's reasons. If he deemed them necessary, they were that. Still, the thought of a guns-for-hire group in the middle of their well-trained army went uneasy with her. As long as she wouldn't have to deal with them, she was fine.

Junn smiled affectionately. The General had wanted her to see this. She had no authority or responsibilities within the fleet, it didn't really effect her work that the rest of their army and its supplies had arrived, but that wasn't what the General had intended her to know. There was a special message at the bottom of the screen.

Without thanking the officer, Junn sprinted down the hallways of Hope's Haven, letting out uncharacteristic whoops of joy as she ran towards the main hangar. She passed many guards and stationary troops on the way who greeted her with the proper salutes, but her mind was too joyful to notice their perfect example of soldiery.

Her two best friends in life had arrived to Regana. It was rare for her to feel this amount of exhilaration, her days were cramped with training and focusing her energy, meditating and planning for the days ahead. Making sure everything was in line for their plans. She'd been too busy the last week to have even thought of them, and was slightly embarrassed. She promised to herself that she would make it up to them. It was a nice change of pace for her to be able to relieve herself of the boredom for a change and spend time with her friends.

She made it to the hangar, just in time to see the ramp lowering beneath the mammoth Watchmen. The worm-like ship was taking up two thirds of the hangar, the other Watchmen were unloading in other hangars or out in the snow. They were dropping off the last shipment of supplies, with enough foodstuff to last them three months on Regana if necessary. Also included were the rest of their armament, with enough firepower to have outmatched the Rebellion, had it been 15 years earlier.

The Sons of Destiny would have had the advantage over the ancient Rebellion that their troops were not just your average desert-boy that suddenly thought he wanted to make a change for himself. The soldiers in her ranks were trained since childbirth, manipulated into being soldiers. Most of them had held a firearm between their hands before they'd picked up their first toy.

Junn ran to the bottom of the ramp and peered up inside the hold of the freighter to see them. Two figures came walking down the ramp to meet her, both of them with excited smiles on their faces. Junn could barely contain herself anymore, and she became surprised at how giddy she, the squad leader of the Galaxy's most advanced army, must've seemed.

When they reached the bottom of the ramp she wanted to hug them both and thank them for coming. The woman with the golden hair walked right past her, carrying a large crate in her hand that excused her lack of a salute. The man saluted Junn with his free hand and then the moment came.

The man handed Junn her two most trusted and loyal friends. Junn grabbed the case from his hands and immediately crouched down to open it. Inside, cradled in smooth red leather laid two blaster pistols that she'd fashioned to her needs over years of detailing and studying, assessing them after their uses and redesigning them. Underneath each barrel sat a small rocket-dart launcher which could fire armor-piercing rockets that could be filled with enough explosives to take down an AT-AT, or enough poison to make a rancor topple over in two seconds.

Junn picked them up, swirled them on her trigger fingers, feeling the delight of their weight in her hands again, feeling the soft leather on the grips, feeling the trigger against her skin. Feeling in control, feeling strong. Also in the casing were two belt-straps and holsters for the guns. She picked them up and strapped them to her thighs and holstered the guns. Then she nodded to the male soldier and dismissed him.

Minutes later Junn opened fire with both her blasters, shifted her weight to the left, and her enemy clinched before he fell down with several puncture wounds in his belly and chest. Junn pivoted on her right heel, blasting through another enemy's body and tearing open the ankles of the third with blaster fire.

Junn swirled her guns joyously and moved on across the bridge. Two speeders blinded her with their searchlights as they charged to run her down. Junn felt the ferrocrete bridge shake beneath her as the vehicles closed in on her. When they were close enough, she bent down in her knees and jumped up into the air. The left speeder drove under her leap and continued driving behind her.

The right speeder's driver was pounded by twin salvos of red needles and his body fell off the speeder. Junn landed gracefully as the second speeder continued driving, ramming into the first speeder, and killing its driver in a flaming inferno. Both speeders exploded in a trail of fire, sending shadows of the bridge's frame dancing over Junn's dark cloaked body.

She smiled at the carnage then moved her finger to tap twice on the small pad on her left temple. The entire bridge, the fire, the wrecked speeders, and the dark night jumped before her eyes before vanishing in a small specter of white light.

Junn pulled the goggles off her eyes and dried the sweat from her brows. Nearby a technician sat hunched over his computer outside the simulator.

He glimpsed once at Junn then rechecked his screen. "Why did you disconnect? The scenario isn't finished."

Junn positioned the goggles on the small box by her feet, and unhooked the wires that connected her to the simulation hardware. "Too easy. Can't you give me something tougher? The rain and darkness was a nice touch but with the night-vision it was pointless. You have to be more creative next time."

The simulator zone was a huge cage of connecting power-lines and sensors that read her movements and fed them to the computer. She stood in the middle of a metal frame in the shape of sphere, with wires everywhere. Her body was dressed in a green, smooth suit. The fabric felt elastic on her skin and she could move just as easily if she were naked. She sometimes felt naked when she trained in the VR, but it was a small price to pay to know she hadn't lost his combat-sense and her mended-to-perfection fighting skills.

She was a trained warrior, and she wanted to stay that way.

The technician shook his head and started tapping feverishly on his keyboard. "Listen, Junn - "

"Eulogy," she stated firmly, "you will adress me as Eulogy."

The technician nodded. "Alright, Eulogy; this program cost a fortune and uses about the same amount in power. You don't just unplug and then ask for a new scenario. I don't choose the scenarios, you know that. And the General has a fit every time someone, just like yourself, complain about the expensive programs being boring. So if I load a scenario, you better work it or you might as well not come, because you're not getting a new one. So just shut up, and plug back in."

Junn smiled. This man was one of the three only people in the world who could allow himself to raise his voice at her. "But I need something more than playing cops and robbers on a rainy bridge at night. That's kid stuff! Give me something new."

The technician wasn't intimidated by the warrior, but he caved nonetheless to save himself from becoming more stressed. Standing up against Junn usually led to an ulcer. "Fine, suit up, and I'll give you something interesting."

Junn plugged herself back into the computer and put her goggles back on. "Remember; something hard. Like an AT-AT or a group of X-Wings."

The technician sneered at Junn when the goggles were over her eyes, confident that she wouldn't see it. "Any special weapons you want or just the guns?"

Swirling the guns on her fingers, they too had small sensors implanted to track their motions, Junn's lips formed a feral smile beneath the edge of the goggles. "Just the guns, as always."

The technician typed in the weapon's roster and selected the blasters as the only weapon for Junn's scenario. He looked at another screen, and read aloud the incoming message there. "Oh, the General wants to inform you that the package has been delivered, and that we should start to see effects very soon."

The guns stopped swirling, freezing in her hands.

It won't be long now. Soon enough her daredevil smile was back in place. "Very well. Carry on."

The simulation started and Junn immersed herself in an artificial world, an unspeakable anticipation in her heart that her guns would soon see real action. Things were starting to happen. With the recent package delivered on Coruscant, the Republic would soon know of their intentions, of their occupancy of this station. However it went from there was up to Coruscant High Command. Junn wished they could see things through the Republic's eye, see what was happening.

She hated the downtime.

---

As the lift descended to the floor of the small cramped hold the Civilian had been assigned, Jovis checked the clip in his blaster, before stepping off his ship. Reluctantly he moved further away from the ship, trying to appear unsuspicious while observing as much of the place as he could, trying desperately to find some clues as to what kind of deal he'd gotten the rest of his group into.

Hope's Haven hadn't seemed all too different from the outside. So he'd figured most of their 'redecoration' had been to the inside. If a terrorist group, even one large enough to qualify as an army, was to take over a place as big as this, they would have to make some alterations somewhere, to prevent intrusion. And to the make the place as impregnable as possible.

But so far Jovis had seen so signs of any such changes. Even the hangar, a stereotypical lousy room with four walls housing a spaceship, a coating of dust across everything and a few tools on a table in the corner, looked unaffected by its new owners. Nothing had been changed. Which made Jovis even more edgy.

The fifty mercenaries staggered out behind him, their grumbled and occasionally drunk mumbling making Jovis cringe. The guys that had hired them were clearly professionals. He didn't want them to terminate the contract because his mercenaries were a bunch of drunken trigger-happy morons. But what could he say?

They were morons.

His Arkanian subordinate came down the ramp lift beside him, his own eyes wary of everything. At least there was one man in the group Jovis could count on to be as alert as him. Arkanians were basically very intelligent people. Though not quite human, because of their solid-white eyes and four-fingered hands, Jovis didn't find much else separating him from Akla Jawk.

Akla carried with him a sense of dignity as he stepped off the lift, gathering his cloak around him, appearing unsettled with the situation. Jovis could only help but wonder why someone as intelligent as an Arkanian was doing in a place like this. There was a slight bonus in having an Arkanian around, their eyes saw only infrared, very handy in a shootout, and to spot enemies from afar.

Jovis looked to Akla and whispered, "try to get some of them to straighten up a little, huh?" Jovis didn't like putting the burden on the other man's shoulders, and he knew the suggestion wouldn't be of any use. But he had to appear somewhat aware of the lousy condition his men were in.

If not to them, at least to the man standing at the edge of the hangar. Wearing an old long brown coat, hood draped over his shoulders, hands tucked into the pockets, the man stared straight across the hangar at Jovis, his eyes seemingly studying him, assessing his every move. Jovis could tell the man was military just by the look of him, and if not military, then certainly with military-like experience.

The man was wearing black military boots beneath the coat, that much he could tell, but everything else was hidden under it. Except for the face, from the mouth and up. The coat had a collar that looked almost like armor, protective gear for his throat. The hardened edge around the man's examining gaze suggested this one wasn't happy about his shipment. Jovis swallowed his pride and started to walk towards him with careful steps.

"I gave the Bothan specific instructions!" the man shouted high enough for everyone to hear, even before Jovis was halfway. "Looks like my instructions weren't clear enough!"

Jovis bit himself in the tongue in fear of how his crew would respond to someone out-shouting their drunken mutterings. Not wanting to know, Jovis decided to talk before they could. "They may not look like it, but they got it when it counts." Jovis reached the man, noting the cropped silver hair that gave the man a certain air of experience, the scar across his cheek and the broad shoulders of a military man.

Jovis held out his hand. "I'm Jovis - "

The man stepped forward, crossing the already short distance between Jovis and him, getting right up in his face, that simple movement sending shudders down Jovis's spine, ending his sentence before he could even finish his name. Though the man seemed heavy in his shape, his movement was quick and almost silent. The man's face looked like a snake, a cunning in his devilish eyes. A hidden streak of genius behind those eyes and that scar that outdated anything Jovis had ever seen.

The man turned his back to the mercenaries, keeping his side to Jovis. "I was looking for soldiers, not rejects."

Jovis understood the man's worries, he had them too. "I'll admit they appear unprofessional. But I've worked with these men for a long time. Business is lagging, everyone is taking damage."

The man's face was filled with indifference. "Didn't your group used to be called Jovis's Eighty? What happened to the last thirty?"

It was an insult, as clear as sunlight on Tatooine, and Jovis took it as it was, instead of trying to defend himself in a situation where he was clearly outmatched. "If our help is not wanted - "

"Its not a matter of whether or not your help is wanted. If it wasn't you wouldn't be here. The question is; can you deliver?"

Jovis dried his sweaty palms on his sleeves as he crossed his arms. "When do you need us operational?"

The man smiled shrewdly, clearly eyeing a new opportunity for an insult. "Oh, I wouldn't dare make any...optimistic estimation on account of what I've seen." And there it was. "Report to me when, or should I say, if you think your men are ready for duty."

Jovis nodded. "Deal."

"However in a week, if they're not ready, you can kiss the payment goodbye."

Jovis cherished the hidden information in that sentence, a week. A week until whatever this terrorist group was planning would reveal itself. "They will be ready within the week, count on it."

The man's expression showed he expected nothing other than trouble with the mercenaries, as he leaned his face closer to Jovis. "I do count on it."

Akla came up beside Jovis, standing behind him, observing everything in his own silence. However the man noticed the move, and began to study him as well, his eyes empty for a moment, as if he tried to recall the name of the species.

"Arkanian."

Ten points, Jovis thought.

Akla bowed respectfully.

The man turned his eyes back to Jovis. "There's some merit to a man who outranks an Arkanian. They are well-known for their intellect."

Akla took the comment well. "Thank you."

The man wasn't finished. "They are also well-known for their self-indulgence, their arrogance. The Yaka could attest to that."

It was an insult, a testing of Akla. The Arkanians hailed from a planet called Arkania. A planet rich in minerals, especially diamonds. It was through this export that the Arkanians came into contact with the outside world. Through this newfound wealth the Arkanians became masters of cyborg technology and, in a moment of sheer self-gratification, bestowed it upon themselves to help out the feeble-minded Yaka who lived on a world nearby, turning them into cyborgs, thinking it was their responsibility and duty to change the Yaka, to change their very nature. Many Arkanians protested this action, but their government approved of it nonetheless. In the end the action would backfire on them as Arkania broke into civil war.

The man was testing Akla's response to that memory, Jovis guessed. He was however surprised at how the man was able to call up a memory of something so distant so fast. Jovis knew only of the revolt through his friendship with Akla, if he'd never met Akla, he would never have known that useless knowledge.

Akla's face was neutral, though Jovis thought he spotted a hidden resentment in the look of his eyes, a change only someone who knew him would be able to spot. "You know of our past." It wasn't a question.

The man smirked fiendishly and as he ranted on, Jovis got the notion the man might have been a schJunnr. His words sounded true, even if Jovis didn't know if they were. "A universe is truly worthy of pity when its inhabitants are so unconscious they make life a commodity, mercy a disease, and systematic massacre a pastime and profession."

If this man was bluffing, he was the best Jovis had ever seen.

Akla however was losing the struggle. "Why do you care about the Yaka?"

The man turned his evil eyes on the Arkanian, glaring down at the near-human as if the very presence of him disgusted the man. "Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter. Deceiving someone for their own good is a responsibility that should be shouldered only by gods." The man shifted his gaze to Jovis after a while, letting the words hang between them. "Come." With that, letting his distaste for the Arkanians hang in the air, the man turned and started to leave the hangar.

Jovis felt his cue to follow to be unmistakable. Akla decided to join him, which surprised. Outside the hangar a separate room expanded into a circular anteroom with nothing but a round couch, draped in black leather, in the center of the room. A fixture of tall green plants hovered from the ceiling above the couch, long vines curling upwards up to reach the sunlight piercing down through a skylight above them, reaching out and making the ceiling look like the inside of a jungle.

Jovis was sure this was new. "You've redecorated."

"Its important for my men to feel as home as possible. We're in this for a long run. As you'll see later, I've made many changes to Hope's Haven."

It crossed Jovis's mind to ask for the man's name, and to ask why his fifty mercenaries were even needed when they clearly had an army of over twenty thousand soldiers, but he never got that far. The man stepped to the side, revealing a very attractive woman with long dark hair sitting in the couch behind him, her side to them as she sipped wine from a glass. The man halted by her feet, and their eyes met for a second, a very tense second, before he turned his attention back to Jovis. "The fee. One hundred thousand."

Jovis took his eyes off the woman, who despite being almost as old as the man himself, still looked stunning. "What about it?"

"Do you find it…reasonable?"

Jovis found it to be fair, it was in the same league as he'd been paid before. He didn't feel like selling himself short. "We haven't discussed the nature of our employment, or longevity. Usually we don't - " Jovis couldn't help steal a glance at the woman, " - bunk down with our employers so I'm guessing this is more than an attack on someone. Since you've asked my group to be ready within a week, I'm guessing this will be the battlefield. That our attackers will come to us."

The man nodded. "They will. Although it may be longer than a week. We don't know for sure. But no more than a month. Until that month has transpired your men will stay here, under my command. Once the month is over, those in your group still alive may share the one hundred thousand however they want."

Jovis felt brave. "Who is our target?"

The woman in the couch made a short snicker, before sipping her wine, an amused look on her face. The man didn't even budge, his presence remained the same hard statue. "Our aggressors are a group of people who have been laying a cloud of deception over our Galaxy. A reign that want this Galaxy entirely for their own greedy ends, unashamed of the people they deceive in the process. Careless to the damage they've done already." The man smiled. "And until a week ago oblivious to our rebellion against them."

Jovis allowed himself a curt smile. The New Republic. "Why us?"

"Why your group? My Bothan liaison on Coruscant assured me you were the cream of the crop."

Jovis felt slightly proud.

"But you're long overdue for a harvest," the man quickly added. "However, as of now, actions have been made that restrain us from going back on our contract. I have already initiated the first move in this coming battle. We should start seeing results soon enough."

Jovis wondered if he was entitled to ask. "The first move?"

"I've relayed a document to the Republic that will inform them of our intentions. I'm anxious to see how they respond. How they will react to our declaration of occupancy."

Jovis felt the sweat running down his back. "Occupancy? You're starting your own government?"

This time the woman answered, her figure slender and delicate in a skintight flightsuit, as she strolled over to stand beside the three men. "Its time for change. The Republic no longer has the merits to protect our Galaxy in the years to come. We need to denounce the Republic and take our place as Galaxy protectors." Her voice seductive, but with a hidden aggressiveness beneath it. Her presence felt like a female equivalent of the man, some powerful presence. Full of confidence. "The Sons of Destiny have grown. Its time we took our place as the rightful heirs to this Galaxy. We are the only ones who can live up to the responsibility. That...is The Dream."

The man agreed with a slow nod. "That is what we fight for. It is our destiny."

They both gave him a look that sent shivers of pride through his body. Everything was planned to the smallest detail and the level of professionalism they portrayed made Jovis weak in the knees, and also made him wonder yet again why he was there. He only hoped he could live up to their standards. "Sounds impressive. Glad to be onboard."

The man rested his hand on the woman's shoulder, gave it a slight squeeze. "We both know what we're getting into. We've planned this for thirteen years. This is your last chance to pull out."

Jovis stayed his ground. "Give it to someone else."

The General nodded, a hint of a smile at his lips. Maybe he was impressed.

"Why don't you tell me more about this…army of yours?" Jovis asked, trying for a more direct approach in getting his answers.

The General opened his arms. "The Sons of Destiny are more than an army, we're a family. Each of the Sons of Destiny has been handpicked and trained by me personally. I know the names of each individual in my legions, I know their family, I've shook hands with their mothers or fathers, I've met their siblings. For the past thirteen years I've commanded and succeeded over a thousand combat missions in the Unknown Regions against races and species you wouldn't even have heard of."

Jovis was impressed, and had no doubts that the man was telling the truth. "A family?"

"There are no ranks in the Sons of Destiny," the General elaborated. "On the battlefield we are all the same, and we fight as a unit. I've carried wounded men across the battlefield, with explosions and fire raging all around me, as I brought them to medical attention. Never have I let a man die on the battlefield, and I've never sent anyone into a situation I wasn't absolutely sure they would come out of again," the man stated passionately. "I've never left anyone behind to die on hostile grounds, and I've never let anyone go into a battle that I wouldn't go into myself. I've fought alongside my men on every campaign - "

The woman stepped forth, calming the man by placing her hand on his. "Kayupa," she said affectionately.

At least now Jovis had a name. Kayupa. "Your name is Kayupa?"

The General, Kayupa as the woman had called him, turned his snake-like eyes to gaze upon Jovis and made a very sly smile. "I have so many names."

Akla stepped forth, and Jovis sensed trouble in the horizon. "You despise my race for what we did to the Yaka, yet here you are doing the same thing to the Republic?"

Both Kayupa and the woman laughed, shockingly loud to Jovis at first, at what was obviously a private joke. Akla never got his answer, but he did step back behind Jovis when he felt he'd endured enough of their taunting. Giving Kayupa one last look of satisfaction and amusement the woman slipped away from them and left the room, depriving it of its strongest beauty.

Kayupa noticed Jovis' hungry eye, but didn't seem to mind. "Don't offend me by trying to deny it."

Jovis felt his cheeks flush mildly. "Looking at something as beautiful as her is too good to pass up on."

Removing the smirk from Jovis' face, Kayupa looked at Jovis, sending a wave of chill through his body, making him wonder if the man was capable of freezing his enemies by hypnotism. It certainly felt that way. It occurred to Jovis that the man's look could only be that of a protective companion. The woman was spoken for already.

Usually death followed in situations like this.

But strangely enough Kayupa's hardened face loosened slightly, he looked more amused than angry, even releasing a low chuckle as he turned to pursue the woman.

"What a strange illusion it is to suppose that beauty is goodness."

---

I must be getting old.

For the first time ever before a training simulation he doubted his own abilities. Skar admitted to himself that he was in his late thirties, though it was a fact he consciously overlooked, since he felt as young as ever. The vibrant power of the Force was keeping him in mint condition, despite his body's aging process. His long brown hair and his gritty beard had gray in some places, and the lines under his eyes had been the subject of countless scrutiny in front of a mirror lately. Skar had no explanation for it, but he had spent a lot of time as of lately inspecting his face. Odd. Age was slowly catching up to him and with it came curious quirks, he guessed.

His hands opened and his fingers spread like tiny satellites. Like a tidal wave emotions, feelings, thoughts, and desires washed over and through his body, telling him the life-stories and dark secrets of every single being nearby. He even saw forgotten memories, things in the past, childhood stuff that no grown person could remember anymore. Each memory came with its own distinct color, some of them hazy blue like clouds, those were the happy ones. Others were red and seemed to burn with fire, bad memories, memories tainted with hate or rage or sorrow.

Interestingly enough each memory came with a sense of temperature. Happy memories were warm and generally brought a smile to his face. Not all of the warm memories would make him cut a smile since alien memories were much more complex than human. He could understand them and certainly knew what they meant, but he didn't share the same joy as a Mon Calamarian did when they thought of the childhood games they played underwater. And some of the species' eating preferences didn't always strike a chord with him.

Given this unique gift of knowing what every being was thinking, had thought, or hid from itself, came to him mostly when he reached out to others . Sometimes the thoughts pushed themselves on him, if the emotion behind was very strong. Sometimes he felt like an emotional relay station, feelings passed through him with or without his desire, leaving him feeling used and powerless. He had long since come to terms with the fact that he couldn't mend all of the pains in the world, he couldn't save every being. He could only do the best where he was, with the people around him.

On a planet like Coruscant, it was easy finding people who wanted help. That wasn't a problem at all. The problem was that there were too many of them, and it was a thankless and very heartbreaking task of selecting those who needed it the most, since he couldn't help everyone at once, he had to select subjects out of the herd. He stuck to those who were in immediate dangers, those whose lives were at stake.

Ironically enough, that sort of thing also was frequent on a planet like Coruscant.

Why did I come here?

Like a distant memory his Master's words rang inside his mind. There is significance in every life. Even those who are our enemies. Life is precious, it is a gift that should be treasured dearly. You must sanction every life as if it were your own. Therein lies the true path to compassion and peace. The opposite of war is not in peace, it is the fundamental ability to create. How else can we pretend to be the governors of justice if we don't ward every life as it was our own? Find compassion, my Padawan, and you'll find the true purpose of your being.

Feeling centered and ready for the challenge ahead, Skar reached up to his shoulder, unclipped his lightsaber from its shoulder-attachment, and brought it down and alive in a defense stance. He was dressed in his usual stealth suit, the gray uniform comfortable and warm, but worn in some places. Skywalker and even Rishi, his apprentice, had suggested he acquired a new one from time to time, but Skar had refused to. It had sentimental values. Besides, it still fit him perfectly, and he could always just patch up the worn areas.

The door in front of him opened and a small timer began counting up from zero above it. Skar leaped inside the door, unleashing a somersault in air before touching down with his lightsaber ready for action.

The first level was a spherical chamber with a blaster turret in the top and one in the bottom. To get a high score you'd have to destroy both turrets, and do that as fast as possible. A normal man, being without Force potential, would have considerably more trouble achieving such a goal since the feat of running along walls in a spherical chamber was impossible. It took a well trained individual, one carefully balanced in the Force, to succeed.

Skar set off, jumping off the platform onto the separate wall, using the Force as a lever to keep him pinned to the wall. Then he began crawling, like a rampant spider, lightsaber in one hand and using the rest of his body to spiral up around the walls of the chamber until he was at the turret. The turret had begun blasting away at anything that moved since he'd entered the chamber. Skar dodged the blasts by moving in a spiral pattern upwards. The turret couldn't maintain a decent lock on him long enough.

Skar reached the peak and injected his lightsaber into the turret, which exploded in a fury of sparks. Even before his lightsaber was out of the sparks, he was already jumping down in a straight line to the second turret, smashing the tip of his blade right down on top of it, and a second later he was on through the next door and heading into the next chamber.

This time he came in with a roll, allowed his anger to maintain his awareness slightly, just to give him enough edge for him to do what he had to do. The room lit up upon his entry, and Skar immediately sensed, as well as saw, the ten battle droids in the room. Four of them were at his own height, spread out over a broad walkway in front of him, while the other six droids were placed on high balconies shooting down at him. Skar hadn't even come up from his roll, before he had flung his lightsaber into the air, guiding it like a missile with the Force.

While his lightsaber flew in a circle around the room, shutting down the six high up droids, Skar brought his silenced blaster up, a small compact handgun, as he ran across the room, using the Force to guide his shots, blasting the four droids one by one with salvos of blaster fire. The droids shattered into pieces and flashes before tumbling to the floor in a clutter.

Skar was beginning to feel really revved up and very excited. Since his move to Coruscant, the toppling metropolis of the Galaxy, a place he'd once shied away from, Skar had seen days and weeks without any real combat. Unlike his arrogant apprentice Skar hadn't thrown himself into Skywalker's Jedi bunch. He preferred his independence. While Rishi had taken an official opinion to what he thought of the Jedi, Skar preferred his state of solitary partnership. Rishi spent many days and nights in the underground areas of Coruscant, the areas where most men dared not go because of the vile and low standard lifestyle that reigned there, as a renegade one-man watch patrol, with Skywalker's blessings.

Skar shot down the last droid and grabbed his lightsaber out of the air, not even having to check that his subtle use of the Force had been enough to take down the six droids on the balconies. His confidence in the Force as his ally made him powerful.

Moving along to the third chamber, Skar thumbed the lightsaber off as the animated world came to life around him. The scenario was a typical abandoned warehouse, with an upper floor. The lower floor was packed with crates and the floor was stained with puddles of rain, which seeped through a large crack in the ceiling. Through the gap he could see dark clouds and thunder. The windows on the upper floor lit up with bright light as lightning struck outside.

Rain washed onto the floor and looked like a waterfall. The crates were soaked, the wood giving off a very clear scent of trees. The warehouse was some hundred meters long and twenty meters wide. Plenty of room to play in.

Skar caressed his hilt as he stepped slowly across the floor, using the Force to dampen the sound to nothing. His eyes wide open and checking every corner and inch of the room. The Force lightning up every movement of rain and every dust particle that moved gently across the floor.

Skar looked down at his lightsaber, the new model he'd designed shortly after coming to Coruscant the first time, a symbol of him turning a new leaf. This one had no symbols attached to the hilt, just the crude smooth handle. The lightsaber was the signature mark of a Jedi. Skar had chosen green gems for his blade, in honor of his late Master Bo-Hi Dzog. And he'd even thrown in a little special feature to the lightsaber.

The room lit up in emotion, color, sight and sound to him. He could see everything. He could feel everything. Except for the little of his physical form, he was one with the room. Using this innate knowledge to his advantage he frowned when he realized that he couldn't spot his foe.

As he walked by a crate he began to feel the floor vibrate beneath the soles of his boots. Jumping onto a second crate he turned and faced the source of the vibration. A powerful metallic limb struck through the crate below, sending splinters and wood-shrapnel in every direction. Skar spotted seven fingers all of them tipped with razor-sharp blades. Another arm came through a meter to the left, this one armed with a heavy blaster cannon. Then the entire crate toppled together as the X-7SV killer-droid came out roaring in rage.

In all its splendor, Skar watched the creature come alive, its red beady eyes scanning the premises for targets. It straightened its back and stood a massive three meters tall. The powerful legs moved forward, creating cavities in the floor as the feet crushed through the floor. The head reared and looked directly at Skar.

Shifting his lightsaber hilt to his other hand, igniting the green blade again, Skar cracked his neck.

Let's do it.

Skar leapt to the upper floor and was running down the length of it as the rapid-fire blaster cannon started blasting away at his shadow. Skar jumped over the railing back down to the first floor as a small concussion grenade devastated the upper floor. Skar rose amidst the flames and readied his weapon for defense.

Lowering his cannon, the droid roared and came running on all fours at him, ready to pounce on him. Skar left the blade in a vertical line over his head. As the beast came closer, Skar tilted the blade downwards and began running straight at it. The droid wasn't deterred at all, it seemed delighted that the target was coming right into its grasp. Skar held out his lightsaber like a spear ready to ram the tip right into its cold metal heart.

But at the last minute he jumped, leaping a good ten feet over the droid. The lightsaber however stayed below, as it shot through the chest of the droid and came out through its back where it flew right into Skar's hand as he touched down. The droid stopped and gazed down at its wound, sparks flying from its chest. Then it turned, eyes glaring red at Skar.

Damn, one inch short!

The droid lifted its blaster-arm and fired deadly red bursts at Skar. Skar lifted his blade in a guard, deflected the deadliest of the shots and then back-flipped to a safer location. The droid came at him, crushing through a pillar that kept the upper floor aloof. Skar kept retracting, until he found that tactic fruitless. Skar leaped forward out of the droid's path and settled onto a crate.

When he turned to face the droid it was gone.

Skar listened to the Force but it allowed no assistance. He lifted his blade and kept it vertical in front of him, assuming that was where the danger would come from. Two seconds later the droid came into shape again behind him. Skar lined his blade up with his back to deflect a heavy punch from the droid. The punch was warded but the force threw him off the crate and onto the floor.

He splashed down in a rain puddle, the droid looming over him on the crate. Eager to trap its prey, it bounced off the crate and came down fast, ready to crush him. The legs spread at just the right time and the droid touched down with its legs on either side of him. The droid lifted up its huge arm to punch down on him, but Skar's blade came up and he sliced midway through the arm, cleaving the metallic limb at the joint, before it could ram into his skull.

Snarling in robotic anger, the droid knocked the lightsaber from his hand before he could pull it away. He did manage to back-roll out from beneath it and get back on his feet, while the massive droid lifted up its blaster cannon to end the battle once and for all.

Stretching out his hand Skar got hold of his lightsaber. As it slammed into his fist, Skar touched a certain hidden panel. The lightsaber had been equipped with two crystals sitting parallel to each other, when attached the lightsaberhilt was the size of any hilt, but when dislodged the handle transformed into two smooth hilts each of them with a green blade the size of a normal saber.

The lightsaber broke off down the middle of the hilt, and Skar pulled them apart, just in time to parry the incoming wave of blaster streaks. He had to use both blades to block the dozens of shots fired each second. Luckily for him the blaster cannon mounted on the droid shook tremendously as it fired, which made half of the shots useless, otherwise he wouldn't have been able to deflect them all.

The droid roared at its own lack of success, then attacked. Taking a step back Skar launched the first saber into its face like a boomerang, where it cracked sparks and the entire head sizzled oddly. Skar then threw his second weapon across the floor, swirling right into the droid's legs, cutting them both off at the knee joints, dropping it to the floor.

Both blades came flying back into his hands as he walked over to the roaring, thrashing metal frame on the ground. Skar reassembled the blades into one, watching as the droid quivered in its death cramps, sparks fizzling past him, but the light vanished from its eyes eventually and the hulk of the droid stopped moving, entire body gone lax.

Skar jumped down through the fourth portal, which opened up in the floor by his feet. The doors shut above his head in the new room and Skar powered down his lightsaber and sheathed it by his shoulder. A young girl, she couldn't have been more than sixteen, was assessing his results behind a desk and she looked up at him with a pleased expression.

"1.54 minutes. An excellent score, Master Jedi."

Skar nodded sourly, he heard what she said and also what she didn't say. "But ten seconds off my record, right?"

She acknowledged his disapproval. "But still in the highest rankings we have. Skywalker's highest ranking is half a minute behind yours."

Skar wiped sweat from his brows. "Skywalker hasn't taken this test in more than five years. I take them every day."

"Then, lets look at Corran Horn's. He's forty seconds behind you."

Skar still wasn't happy. "He only takes these tests when he isn't too busy at the Academy."

The girl looked back down at her screen. "You still have the highest ranking in my records." The girl shrugged. "Come on, ten seconds isn't that much."

Skar felt he was back twenty years ago when Shinran had taken his results after a training exercise on the Koniduz. He'd disapproved back then too, he'd always wanted to be better than himself, which he knew was impossible. Maybe 1.54 really was the best he could do.

The girl's remark was wrong though.

"In combat ten seconds is a lifetime. There is a gap between life and death - " He caught himself lecturing to someone who really didn't care. "Forget it. Schedule another session for me tomorrow. Same time."

The young girl shook her head in subtle confusion. "As you wish, sir." She then read off another screen. "Luke Skywalker is waiting for you outside."

Skar wasn't expecting that. "Where?"

The young girl pointed at the doors. "Outside on the balcony."

The balcony was empty, but Skar stepped onto it nonetheless, a smile growing on his face with each step he took. It was hard not to, in the presence of such beauty. This was his favorite time, just on the opposite side of nightfall. Hundreds of spaceships loomed over his head, looking like giant planets shifting through space, and below a maze of twinkling lights looked like shiny diamonds, spread across a vast field.

Skar rested himself against the railing, with eyes shut and sniffing in the air. This high up the air still had some cleanness to it, despite the heavy trafficking of ship routes and airspeeders.

He would always forget why he'd ever come to Coruscant until he saw her by night. And he was glad to know that whenever doubt was close, reassurance was always only hours away. Millions of lights in the distance, thousands of levels to them, and expanding without end into the horizon. It was inspiring, gutwrenchingly magnificent.

If Rishi didn't spend so much time in the underground, crawling like a snake in the belly and sewers of this world, he would see what the work was all about. Skar felt guilty for thinking that a second later, truth be told Rishi had done more to better life for people in the Republic than he'd done. Skar suppressed a sigh. He didn't even know what he was doing here. The things he'd done to help the New Republic since he'd joined could be counted on one hand.

So what am I even doing here?

His Master's advice on protecting the innocent had good merits but it just wasn't enough for him. He felt like time was running out and he had yet to do anything to truly be remembered for. Somewhere he knew he hadn't reached an age in life where these matters should concern him, but he couldn't help it. He was looking to feel pride again, to know he'd acheived something valuable. Defeating the Jentarana had been a victory, but with the powers inside of him he knew his legend would demand more.

He couldn't blame Rishi for leaving him after their fight, the truth was that Skar had nothing more to teach the student, a thought that weighed Skar's emotions down terribly. What good was he to anyone if he didn't have anything to give? What was his legacy, the meaning of his life, if he had nothing to pass on? And no one to teach?

What's the point of anything?

"Kept you waiting, huh?"

Normally Skar would have jumped when someone approached him without him knowing, but the sound and feeling Rishi's words brought to him was like cool water on a hot day. Skar turned to see Rishi standing in the doorway of the brightly lit corridor. He was wearing a white sleeve-less shirt, the red Kjoil tattoos on his muscular arms in plain sight, a pair of brown workpants and a hood over his neatly cropped hair, small trails of blond hair sticking out beneath the hood. The clothes and especially the hood made him look very casual enough to blend in naturally on any city street, which Skar suspected was the intention in the first place.

He looked nothing like a Jedi, or even a Kjoil, and it melted Skar's heart to admit it. But Skar guessed even he didn't look like a Jedi or a Kjoil in his stealth suit, more like a spy or an assassin.

Rishi hadn't looked so clean since…since Skar had last seen him, two years ago. His youth was still fresh, if not from his physique, then from the look in his blue eyes, that sense of cool pride and ability. In many ways he looked like a younger version of Skar.

Skar found himself at a loss for words. He wanted to say something but was afraid it would come out as a stutter. "I, ah - "

Rishi hid his smile. "Yeah, I know."

"Its been awhile."

Rishi sent him a sympathetic look. "Too long."

"I was told Luke was waiting for me."

Rishi looked over his shoulder. "Master Skywalker will be here shortly, he had to find a datapad to read the information I found."

"You two came together?"

Rishi nodded carefully. "He picked me up. He figured you'd still be here."

Skar made no more of it, and allowed himself to search Rishi's mind. He didn't know what he was looking for, maybe just some sense of where the boy was mentally. Was he masking an anger or was he really as nervous as he seemed? As nervous as Skar felt himself to be.

"Did you read the card?"

Rishi stepped out onto the balcony, each step forward he took made Skar feel more nervous inside. He thought of himself as a strong-willed and resourceful person but Rishi's presence, after so much time apart, threw him off his guard.

Rishi leaned against the railing, his eyes searching the night-sky. Skar figured it to be a ploy to avoid looking Skar in the eyes, but didn't hold it against him. Skar remained with his back turned to the city, neither of them having to look at each other. Somehow it made it all easier. It was easier to say things of importance if you didn't have to look the person in the eyes. Some would call it cowardice, but sometimes it was the only way to really say what was kept inside.

"I didn't have time. I managed to remove the encryption and the next thing I did was call Master Skywalker. Figured it would be best to save time." Rishi looked down into the city below. "If its about the bombing, he's the one who can do most good with it."

Skar felt grim inside. "Did he tell you about the other incident?"

Rishi's eyes flew wide open. "What other incident?"

Skar's voice was his usual gruff and gritty, his tone matter-of-factly. "There was a great surge of darkness in the Force not too long ago. Luke suspects that millions have died. He thinks its related to the bombing. It happened at the same time. Too close to be a coincidence."

Rishi's face tightened with suspense. "The Jedi will surface and destroy this threat." Rishi said the words with cool determination, but there was something else behind those words.

Skar suspected Rishi hadn't really understood what he'd just said about the bombing and as Skar reached out to the boy he no longer felt the giddy nervousness inside the boy. He felt something so hot with anger that he drew his touch back, almost afraid to burn himself.

And Rishi knew it.

"Do you remember why we broke contact?"

"Sometimes," Skar said sadly, "other times I try to forget - "

"You ridiculed me for doing my duty in the underground," Rishi said firmly, his voice full of scorned pride. "You said it was pointless. Trust me, you may have forgotten but I haven't. I tried though..."

Skar knew the boy was angry but that didn't mean he was going to just let the matter pass. Skar did think Rishi's underground activities were pointless because the boy had much more potential than that. He could've used his resources more wisely, where they'd do better good. Skar was conscious of this because he'd spent his whole life trying to use his talents where they made the biggest difference, which was why he spent so much time contemplating his own assets, pondering if the place he was, was the best place to be. Where his strengths would be best utilized.

Skar made his voice hard. "I do think you could do more someplace else. The strength inside you…your gifts are being wasted - "

Rishi turned and pointed a finger at Skar's face. "But you, you are the only one who thinks that. I've come to live with it, because I can't relate to anything else than what I feel is right. Staying in the present is the only way I can - "

"There is more than just the present, Rishi," Skar said.

Rishi knew what that meant. "You mean the future. I don't believe this! You taught me to listen to my heart and do the things I feel to be right, but when I do, you complain. What am I supposed to do?"

"You should listen to your heart, but I think you're misreading it. You could die tomorrow or the next day and all people will remember is someone who threw himself at a situation he couldn't win, trying to do something everyone frowned upon. You might save some people, but you're creating an army of enemies. The Senate does not - "

Rishi shrugged. "Who cares about the Senate? Who cares what anyone else thinks? It doesn't matter what other people thinks. The Senate is of no importance to me, neither is the Republic. They don't control how I live my life. What do they know? I mean, I understand what they're trying to achieve but all I see is them fighting each other while innocent people get squashed by their ignorance. I'm setting an example."

"An example of defiance, Rishi."

Rishi's head turned halfway to look at him, but quickly looked back at the nightsky. "Its only defiance until it becomes a revolution."

Skar nodded, finding no error in his apprentice's words. "Fine."

Rishi banged his fist against his heart. "My job is to save lives." Rishi waved a hand at the Coruscant skyline. "This place…may be beyond saving but at least I'm giving it a shot." Rishi's eyes filled. "Maybe its so hard for you to accept…because you're ashamed of me - "

"No."

Rishi held out his palm, but didn't turn to look at his former Master. "Let me finish." Rishi's lower lip trembled. "All I have to give to the world are the things you taught me; killing so that others might live."

"What?"

"You said survival came on the other side of someone else's death."

Skar's eyes rolled. "That's not what I was trying to tell you. Survival and duty are not the same thing. I was trying to teach you that sometimes the only way you could win a fight would be to take a life, don't misread that into something else. There are ways that don't facilitate killing. I never trained you to be a killer, I trained you to be a protector."

"And I am."

Skar sighed. He only taught him what he felt to be right, but there was no way to break through Rishi's barrier. He'd created a wall around his ideals and not even a turbolaser could pierce through that. It would take something else to make Rishi realize he was wasting his powers. The boy had faked reality around him and created a place where he didn't have to think about anything other than doing what he felt to be right.

But like Skar had learned the hard way, sometimes what felt right, didn't mean there wasn't some other place more right. Sometimes what felt right, was infact wrong. Listening to the heart is a good thing, as long as you remember that there is more than one heart in the Galaxy.

The boy had a very distorted way of seeing things and Skar grudgingly admitted to himself that it was too late for him to influence Rishi anymore. Rishi was too old and too proud of himself to think anyone else could find a better way for him to see things. Reality sometimes had a strange way of revealing its true face, and Skar hoped once Rishi had a better grasp on what requirements the Force had of him, he would know.

Skar sighed loudly and turned away from the boy. "Maybe time will teach you what I can't. Hopefully reality will some day creep its way through the holes in your mind."

Rishi clenched a fist in anger. "To hell with you, and to hell with the Republic. There are people who need me, its obvious that up here I'm nothing more than a joke!"

Skar didn't turn to look at him. "You are what you make yourself to be." Skar shook his head slowly. "You should fight for the things you believe in, there's no shame in fighting that way...or dying."

"I believe in protecting the innocent, just like any other Jedi. Are they stupid too?"

Skar sighed. "This isn't the path I would have chosen for you. A part of me...wouldn't wish the kind of lives we live on anyone."

"But its my path, and its my choice." Rishi's voice broke. "I don't…have to listen to anyone but myself, least of all you anymore. I came here thinking we could patch things up again, but you're still caught up in your ideals of how I should be. And as long as you keep this up, you can forget about our friendship. As far as I'm concerned, we're through!"

Rishi was about to storm away, but he stopped before he even started.

"Silence gets us nowhere. Silence does not make the pain any less," said a third voice from the archway onto the balcony, "and with defiance, you ruin the chance for future alliance."

Skar turned too, to see Jedi Master Luke Skywalker, his cloak enshrouding him and that boyish smile on his face.

Abandoning the feud for the moment, Skar and Rishi bowed in sync to the Jedi Master.

"No bows between allies," he said calmly as he stepped out onto the balcony to join them in the beautiful night, "no bows between friends. I heard what you said about the Republic, Rishi, and I agree with you. The New Republic has had its bumps but we're coming along the path that will lead us to a true, and brighter, government. One day, you will see that our common dream will be realized."

Rishi laughed. "Our dream? I don't think you know my dreams. These talks about government, they're a waste of time. The very lives we're trying to protect are dying beneath us and there's no one there to fight for them. No one but me." Rishi wasn't afraid to speak his mind, even to someone as powerful as Luke. "I don't know where we are, but we've drifted far from what I had hoped."

Skar didn't like the tone. "Rishi - "

Luke didn't seem to mind. "Skar. Its fine. I share his worries. I know that there are many unfortunate people living under the surface, and I'm doing all I can to make the Senate take kinder to what you're doing to help them. Don't think I don't appreciate it, you know I do. And as soon as I can legitimize your actions, I can direct more help to you."

Rishi looked at Luke like he suspected a lie. "I believe that fate created Coruscant as a test. To train those worthy of its beauty. If you're gonna be guarding the Galaxy, you should be doing it one planet at a time."

Luke looked at Skar, a small smile on his lips. Maybe Luke had recognized something in Rishi, something reminding him of someone else. Skar never found out what it was before Skywalker looked back at Rishi. "This is not the time for this."

Skar felt the seriousness in those words. "The bad news?"

Luke took out a small datapad with a datacard inside it and handed it to Skar. Skar did notice the crude drawing on its surface after a few seconds of tilting it upside down. It was not a very accurate drawing but he still felt it served its point. "This datacard has Kjoil lettering painted over it. Its a message," Skar moved his gaze over to Rishi, "to us."

Rishi nodded.

Skar activated the datapad and began reading the data stored in the card. He summarized it aloud for Rishi. "A repair yard was taken over by terrorist a week ago out in the Outer Rim Territories. They say that they have a hundred hostages, all of them citizens of the Republic. The repair yard, Hope's Haven, is supposedly one of the best we have."

Luke cleared his throat. "It is. Some of our frigates and cruisers in that sector regularly get their repairs done there."

Rishi looked up into Luke's eyes. "This is a direct assault on the New Republic."

Skywalker swallowed. "That's not all."

Skar looked down into the pad again, and read the final lines aloud. "The terrorists call themselves the Sons of," Skar stopped reading, hesitating, "…Destiny," Skar felt his heart tighten, like in a noose. The words, the name of the group, felt like an echo from the past, reminding him of a time he'd much sooner forget. He heard Kayupa's voice from the past, shouting in anger, filled with infuriated anger.

Damn you, Skar!

Don't hide from me! You and me, we're better than that. We share the same blood, the same ancestors! We are both sons of destiny!

Don't you do this to me!

It could have been a coincidence, the world was full of terrorists and rebel groups with flamboyant names, but there was something...a new feeling inside him. Like someone had just picked at a thread inside of him and many old sensations were flooding forth. It couldn't be Kayupa. Impossible. Kayupa was dead, buried, burned to a crisp.

Skar shook his head in confusion. It didn't make sense. And most of all it didn't make sense because he didn't want it to make sense. Skar felt bile coming up the back of his throat. Tasting it. And however much he wanted to deny it, he could still feel it. That presence of his old friend in the Force, hidden from him until now, when he reached out for it. Reached out for that place in the Force where he'd once found his best friend.

Kayupa was alive.

Skar somehow found the courage to read on, though his eyes had turned foggy and he felt like the world was deteriorating beneath his boats. "And the name of their leader is Kayu - " He never finished it, instead he just held out the datapad to the others, wanting them to take it away from him. He didn't want to read anymore, he couldn't read anymore. He was afraid that if he read the name aloud it would jinx what he already knew to be true, but didn't want to be true. Skywalker accepted the datapad.

Rishi himself was stunned, but he managed to remember another element of the matter. "The guy who gave me this said that in a month there'll be no Republic left. He mentioned the Sons Of Destiny too. And something called The Dream." Rishi looked to his Master. "Its a trap."

"And they've made no demands," Luke added.

Leaning against the railing for strength, Skar sighed. Skar bit his teeth together, feeling the Force drawing on him, reminding him of his duties and promises. "The hostages are just bait. Its a message, but not to us, Rishi." Skar turned around and faced his apprentice. "Its for me."

Rishi nodded. "A trap."

"Even if this is a trap, there are still people in danger. And someone wants me to come for the hostages. Nobody knew…him except me. Someone is waiting for me."

Skywalker looked over at Skar, his face uncommonly confused. "You know this Kayupa person?"

Skar remembered the fact that he had never put a name to the clone of Skind Kjoil to Luke. He wished he had. Even now, feeling he would have to say the words, he felt he couldn't. His throat clogged up. "Its…a long story."

Rishi answered for him. "He's the one. Its him. The clone of Skind Kjoil."

Skywalker closed his eyes, drew in a silent breath, obviously as shocked to put the pieces of the puzzle together as Skar was. "If you want I could come with you - "

"No, Luke," Skar objected. "This isn't about you. This is personal. You got your own things to deal with, we've had this talk before. I don't want you to stick your neck out for me. You are too important. I don't want anyone to get killed over me."

Skywalker shook his head. "You are making it personal."

Skar shook his head. "Luke…I'm sorry but this isn't your fight. Its between me…and him."

Skar hadn't noticed Rishi had moved away from them, he stood with his back to them both, looking out at the stars above. "So you do think he's alive?"

Skar sharpened his gaze on Rishi, though the apprentice didn't look at him. "I set fire, personally, to whatever remains there were of his body. I watched it all blow away with the wind. He's gone." Skar wanted more than anything to believe his own words.

Skywalker didn't understand. "Then why is someone commanding a terrorist action on a repair yard under his name?"

Skar sighed. "I don't know. But even the name of the group, Sons of Destiny, I heard him say that once. If its not Kayupa, its someone deep in the mix who knows all that's been going on in my life the last two decades."

Rishi suspected a connection, but he wasn't ready to face the others yet. "Could this be related to the bombing?" His voice was low, almost too careful. "What the guy told me sounds like what happened yesterday. Someone is trying to break the Republic up."

Nobody said anything. Skar's head was swamped with too many thoughts and contradictions, yet he knew what he had to do. He would check out the repair yard. Skar felt brave and motivated enough to look over at Rishi, who looked back at his Master this time with a worried look on his face.

"Master, you shouldn't."

Skar wasn't sure why Rishi wouldn't want him to go. This was a clear signal to him, someone wanted him to come to the repair yard. Whoever it was, if it was not Kayupa, had primed plenty of bait. Skar thought there was too much bait for it to be true, Kayupa would never have been so obivious. He had no idea who was behind this, but he was gonna find out. "I have to go. People are in danger. The Republic is in danger." Skar looked at Luke. "We are all in danger."

"After we came back," Luke elaborated, "I found out that the Sons of Destiny had already sent that same message you hold in your hands across the Holonet, again with no demands, just a declaration of occupancy." Luke frowned. "In any case the New Republic has begun orchestrating a mission to the world about a few hours ago. They're planning to send a reconnaissance team to the repair yard from a nearby station. They'll monitor and obtain any data they can about the place. The Republic is in a delicate state right now, everything must be handled correctly if we are to maintain the public's trust. Once the reconnaissance team finds out if an insertion is possible, a detachment of highly trained commandos will be inserted and they will do their best." Luke looked at Skar. "Since this is related to you, I think you should team up with the insertion team and act as their team leader. No Jedi will be sent because of our critical state, but Skar, you could work, since you have no direct connections to the Republic. I could get you onboard the team."

Skar shook his head. "I'm not a soldier. I wouldn't know how to command such a group."

Luke smiled. "But you have abilities they don't. The Force is your ally. You don't have to be their leader. You can act as their special aid."

"Wouldn't my presence be known to the Republic? I doubt High Command would approve."

"No," Luke said. "I'll make sure of it. You'll just be another unit on the team. The reconnaissance team is scheduled to arrive on Regana later today. Then we'll know more. I'll talk to High Command and we'll know firsthand how bad the situation is."

Rishi leaned against the railing. "What makes you so sure you can insert a group of commandos without being noticed?"

"The Republic has recently designed a special ship, its fitted with the best stealth drive there is. As long as the stealth drive is engaged, they won't be detected. The man who designed the drive will personally be flying the ship, he's the best man for the job."

Rishi frowned. "You talk of peace, but you're building warships right under the people's noses."

Luke gave Rishi a cold look. "Wars are an inevitable fabric of peace."

Skar shuddered hearing those words. He'd heard them so many times but he still wasn't sure they were right. "Where will I be able to read the data from the reconnaissance team?"

"The team should send back intel later today to High Command, you and I will be there to see it personally. But whatever the reconnaissance team discovers, the stealth ship launches tonight, with a team of commandos onboard. It'll be your only chance if you're still interested in going. With this going on I doubt they'll allow your personal ship into the system, and even if you wanted to, you'd have a better chance of slipping in unnoticed on the stealth ship with the soldiers."

Rishi frowned. "The datacard was a message to Skar. Whoever sent it is expecting him."

Skar turned to Rishi, his face determined. "Then I shouldn't keep them waiting. I have to go."

Luke nodded to them both. "Skar, stay close by. I'll contact you once I know more about the meeting in High Command."

Skar nodded. "Fine."

Luke turned on his heel and left the two alone on the balcony. Skar didn't know if it was a good choice to make in Luke's situation, but as he turned to Rishi, he saw the boy was no longer as infuriated as he'd been minutes before. He looked more concerned now.

The look on his face reminded Skar of that time when he'd first approached the boy to ask him to be his apprentice nine years ago on Draori. Draori had been the site of a lost ship filled with refugees from Ka'ckak, home of the Kjoil. It was there that Skar had rescued the last survivors from the Five Epigones, the only Kjoil in the Old Republic turned to the ways of the Sith. Rishi had been only ten back then, and he looked like that young boy now, very concerned and removed from anything else.

On Draori, another Jedi Master named Latarlas had been rallying the Kjoil against the Five Epigones, but the Kjoil had no fighting experience. Latarlas had managed to train a few but he was getting older and time was slipping for him. Skar remembered how Rishi had looked up to Latarlas, almost as a second father, hoping one day the man would train him.

Skar remembered the evening by a campfire when Skar had talked to Rishi, just a young boy then, about his future. Skar had sat down by the fire, watched the smoke rise like a snake to the cloudy night sky above, eclipsed only by the moon. Next to him Rishi was playing with a stick in the fire, immaturely playing with the flames running dangerously near his hand. Skar was about to react on the danger, but the boy threw the stick into the fire, just as the flames were about to burn him. Skar had settled back down, grateful that the boy had some notion of the danger he could have inflicted upon himself.

Then Rishi had looked at Skar, a sense of childlike nature in those eyes tainted only by a shred of fear. It was a look he'd seen in the eyes of all the Kjoil in the village. That look of lacking the understanding to break the curse of the evils all around them. It was sadness but there was still hope, glistening deep within each of them. It was this hope he was gonna look for in the boy.

"I have to talk to you about something."

Rishi had sighed and placed his head between his knee caps. "Does it have to do with my training?"

"It does."

"Then I already know that Master Latarlas won't be teaching me. Cartra told me. Master Latarlas is a great teacher. Is it something I've done wrong? I am strong."

Skar couldn't help but smile back then, he'd found the shred of hope he was looking for. That willpower to move on through obstacles. "I know. So does Latarlas. And you are to be trained. But, Master Latarlas proposed an alternative possibility."

The boy looked up from his kneecaps, the hope very evident in those blue eyes now. "What?"

Skar folded his cloak around him, the night's chill was getting to him, and the fire did nothing to warm him. Maybe it hadn't been the cold night air after all, but more knowing he was about to embark on a task he didn't feel ready for. A task he knew he would have to achieve at some point in his life. He'd only hoped then that it would come later. But the boy was gifted, and it would have been wrong to walk away from this opportunity.

"He wants you to become my Padawan."

The boy had jumped to his feet, and the disappointment masked his otherwise young face. The insulted curl of his lips made Skar feel very bad inside. "I am not some...charity! I'm not something you pass along."

Skar appreciated that and knew it was not the case. "I am doing this for you."

"Why can't Master Latarlas train me?"

Skar had let his eyes dive inside the fire, feeling awkward explaining such a delicate and serious matter to a ten year old boy. He was grown for his age, but the youth had far from passed away in his emotions. He reacted swiftly and emotionally. He took it as an insult and maybe it was to him, but the condition of Master Latarlas's disease was far more important than a young boy's racing emotions. "Master Latarlas is sick. Terminally." Skar looked over at Rishi. "Do you understand what that means?"

The scared look on Rishi's face was testament that he understood. The young boy sat down next to Skar, close enough for their shoulders to brush. "He's…dying."

Skar made a slow nod. "That's right."

"How?"

"I don't know. And neither does he. But he can feel it. And its taking a lot of his strength to keep himself healthy. But sooner or later his strength will fade and the disease will kill him. He can't divert attention to anything else at this point or it will weaken him. He may hold out until the battle against the Epigones, but I fear the battle itself will be his end. Fighting takes a lot of the soul and Master Latarlas doesn't have much left to give. He can't take an apprentice now. He wants to save his last power for the fight to ensure victory," Skar had looked into the boy's eyes and saw the same terror in the young boy, "with his dying breath."

The boy's sad eyes looked away then, glancing back at the huts before the boy nodded solemnly. "I knew it."

Skar's eyes darted. "What?"

"Master Latarlas's illness. I've felt it…sometimes. I hear a lot of stuff in my mind and sometimes I think its other people's thoughts, I've heard Master Latarlas's thoughts. He thinks a lot about now instead of the future, and every time he thinks of the future, it hurts him." The boy found a nearby stick and placed it in the fire, leaving it to burn. "Maybe its because he knows he has no future, because he knows he's gonna die soon."

Skar felt like a heathen for smiling in such a serious conversation. "You're a wise little boy, Rishi."

"My father is great man. He is very concentrated on keeping the people together. My mother is dead, long time ago, now. The gods took my mother. Master Latarlas told me that hating them would not help her and that it would hurt her to know. Master Latarlas would strike me if he knew I felt this way and my father would allow him. But since neither Master Latarlas or my father have given me any reason not to hate the gods, I'll let you try." The boy had looked over at Skar, immaturity fully evaporated from his face and Skar saw intelligence in the blue ovals, now shedding tears. "Teach me how, Master Skar, and I'll be your apprentice."

Skar had allowed his arm to fall around the young man's shoulders as they tossed another stick into the fire together, adding smoke to the clouded sky and fading out the warm silver circle of the moon. It had been a moment Skar could never forget, the turning point of his role from Knight to Master.

And even now he felt another turning point was up ahead, but like then he had to move forward. Rishi didn't seem older at all to him now, and Skar saw the young boy again that he'd saved once, and had probably saved many times then vicariously through his training, but knowing that came nowhere near as feeling as good to know he'd taken the boy as his apprentice. Skar was proud of the young man Rishi had become, he might make some bad decisions along the way, but he'd have to learn those on his own.

Rishi walked up beside him. "Why am I not going?"

Skar hadn't said anything about Rishi staying behind, but he had thought it. "Because you are too important. If Kayupa is behind this, things will be rough. I survived an encounter with him before, barely."

"You don't think I have the skills, do you?"

"Aside from your underground excursions you haven't been training. I doubt you would last very long in a simulator."

Rishi felt hurt. "No need to sugarcoat it, Master."

"I'm being honest because we're talking about your life. I can sense you and I wish you had been ready for this, because I don't want to go alone. But my wish for companionship will not convince me to jeopardize your life."

Rishi's look was sour. "Kayupa was not a real Kjoil," Rishi commented roughly, "he wasn't even a real man, he was a perversion."

The change of thought hit Skar like a pod racer. "That's my friend you're talking about."

"Its how I feel. To duplicate a man, to mirror his soul, its a disgrace to the man as well as nature, our provider of life."

"Maybe." Skar guessed he was right. "But...sometimes life and nature needs a helping hand, if the forces of fate are put out of control."

Rishi laughed. "Fate can't be put out of control, we are right here right now. You can't change destiny."

"But we can choose destiny, Rishi. Our lives are not set in stone, our free will determines our choices and our future is influenced by the choices we make."

"If fate is in our control and we can choose our own destiny, then why are you going to the repair yard?"

Skar searched his feelings once more and the confirmation still lingered there, waiting to be addressed. "Because the Force tells me its the right thing to do."

Rishi looked quizzical. "How's that different from what I'm doing in the underground?"

"The Force tells you that that's the path your life lies down. But as long as you obey the Force whenever it tells you to, you're losing your individuality." Skar felt like a Master again. "You have to make choices for yourself, believe in something for yourself, not just because someone or something says its the right things. There are many things in life others would consider the right thing, but that doesn't make it the right thing for you. That's all I want you to learn. That's what drove us apart."

"But the Force - "

"This," Skar held up a finger, "has nothing to do with the Force."

Rishi looked more confused than ever. "How is it not related?"

"You're too absorbed with what the Force wants you to do, that you never stop to think about what you want."

Rishi pointed out the obvious. "How's this thing with you different?"

"Because in this moment what the Force tells me, is what I want as well."

Rishi knew what he was saying, and a darkness crept over his face. "Kayupa, right?"

Skar sighed. "He was my friend, and if he has resurfaced somehow…"

Rishi hugged himself, and Skar had a feeling it was not just to ward off the cold night air. Rishi's look was very hurt. "I guess that means you approve of cloning, then?"

"No, I find it a disgrace just like you," Skar stopped talking for a second, remembering how lonely he'd been at the time Kayupa had stepped into his life, "but it gave me a friend."

For a moment Rishi looked betrayed. Skar didn't want Rishi to feel like he was competing against Kayupa, he wasn't, but given the situation they were in, and the past they'd endured, it seemed only likely that Rishi would feel that way.

The apprentice turned away. "Well, I guess I've played my part," he said.

"Where will you go?" Skar asked.

Rishi steadied himself against the railing. "Where else, Master?" the word master sounded like traitor, "I'll disappear into the underground again." Rishi calmed himself and bowed to Skar before walking towards the exit. "You know where I'll be."

"Rishi!"

The boy kept walking.

Skar shouted at him. "When I come back...somehow...I want to settle this!"

Rishi's stride never changed.

Skar's lips moved without sound; Don't leave.

But Rishi was gone.

When did things turn into this? He could still remember all the adventures he and Rishi had gone through together, so many memories that suddenly felt so fake. Skar turned back to the night-sky, with the weight of the world on his shoulders, and his lips a hateful frown, wondering if he would ever see the boy again. Thinking it made him cringe inside. There were so many unsettled things between them, so many things Skar wanted to set right. Most of all he wanted his friend back. Secondly he wanted his apprentice back. Skar felt the datapad in his thigh pocket, weighing more in his mind than it did in his pocket.

Kayupa.

Spent so much time trying to shed the past...only to have it come looking for me.