The Trials were over, the fear faded along with them. Now was the time to put it all aside for a single night atop the Ceremony Chamber. The humming of speeders far down below echoed faintly, a reminder of the bustling lives of regular Coruscanti people continuing on. The sun had begun its descent behind the city planet, painting the sky with an array of vibrant colors—pinks, yellows, and blues blending together like an artist's masterpiece.
Kira had spent the better part of an hour preparing in her room, brushing out her hair before tying it into a neat braid, making sure to leave her padawan braid out and draped down her shoulder. She thumbed the small braid, feeling the smooth beads between her fingers and reflecting on the journey they symbolized. Tonight, she would be a padawan learner no more.
The anticipation weighed on her, a mixture of excitement and anxiety. There were still feelings of being unprepared for what it truly meant to become a Jedi Knight, of leaving her master's side for the sake of another to take her place. The feeling of jealousy hadn't quite left her, but she forced it aside. It was the natural way of things for the Jedi. Mace had spent the better part of her adolescence training her, and now that she was ready to move on, he would take another and continue the cycle of creating more Jedi.
Plus, she had more to look forward to these days. She still wasn't sure how everything would play out with Jense, if anything ever truly came from it. It was still very early and things could change. She hoped that things would move forward positively but she could only imagine the kind of chaos she must have caused for the Mandalorian in seeking him out. There were still so many questions she had for him but they could all wait until she had time alone to contact him.
The Trial of Spirit had hung in the back of her mind, echoes of the rejection still lingering. The more she thought of it the more she had realized the desperate need for acceptance, not just from Jense but from Mace, even from Kal Skirata and Jango Fett.
There was a knock at her door, startling her out of her own thoughts. Kira jumped to her feet before crossing the room and waving her hand in front of the door panel. The door slid open with a soft hiss, revealing Master Yoda standing in the dimly lit corridor.
"Master," she greeted, bowing her head respectfully.
"Ready, you are?" he asked, a wise look in his eye, his presence comforting and steady.
She nodded. "Yes," she said, smoothing out the front of her tunic, the fabric cool under her fingers. "I believe so."
"Follow me," Yoda instructed with a little chuckle, turning to lead Kira towards the top of the Jedi Temple.
Kira followed in silence, her footsteps echoing softly as they made their way through the hallowed halls of the temple. They passed her peers, who each gave a nod of approval. Kira acknowledged each one with a slight bow of her head, feeling their silent support bolster her confidence.
Yoda led Kira to the turbolift, the doors sliding open to admit them. They stood in contemplative silence as it ascended, the quiet hum of the lift adding to the solemnity of the moment. Kira took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the occasion settle upon her shoulders. As the lift slowed to a stop and the doors opened, the cool evening breeze greeted them, carrying with it the faint scents of the city and the promise of a new beginning and with that new beginning meant more freedoms, more chances to go out on her own. More chances to make her way back to Mandalore.
Yoda and Kira made it to the center of the chamber, surrounded by eleven cloaked figures with their hoods over their heads. Immediately Kira recognized Master Windu in the center of them, their eyes caught for a moment before Yoda ignited his lightsaber. The green glow bounced off the walls illuminating in the eyes of the council members.
"Passed the Jedi Knight Trials, you have," He began before giving a sideways glance to Mace, who stood just to the right of his shoulder. His hand on his own lightsaber hilt. "Ready for Knighthood, you are."
With that, he stepped aside. Mace stepped forward and ignited his own lightsaber, signaling the other council members to do the same. A ray of blues and greens lit up the room with a ray of purple humming into the quiet space.
"Kiratta Kenvor," He began, his deep, commanding voice echoing through the chamber. "You have shown great wisdom, courage and dedication to the Jedi Order. Your journey has been one of many trials, but you have faced them all with honor and integrity."
Kira beamed with pride, the smile she tried and failed to hide pulling at the corner of her lips. She held the hilt of her own lightsaber in her hands, unlit. She met Mace's gaze as the blues, greens and purple showed reflecting in her eyes. She felt a sense of calm wash over her, as if all the worries she had held onto for weeks had finally given way.
She did not think of her father, or of Kal Skirata and certainly not of Jango Fett. No thoughts of mandalorians or secrets filled her mind. All that mattered was this moment, standing before the master she had loved so greatly.
"Today, we recognize your achievements and your commitment to the path of the Jedi," Mace continued, raising his lightsaber as Kira knelt before him on one knee with her head bowed. "By the right of the Council, by the will of the Force, I dub thee Jedi Knight.
With a swift, precise motion, Mace brought his lightsaber down, the blade passing just above each of Kira's shoulders. The gesture was symbolic, a tradition that had been upheld for generations. Then, the moment Kira had waited for, for years finally happened. The thin braid, tied with beads lifted from her shoulder as Mace's purple blade lowered under the braid before a quick swipe of his wrist severed the braid from her head and fell to the floor.
"Arise, Knight of the Republic," Mace intoned, his voice carrying the weight of centuries of Jedi history. A look sparked in his eye, the look of pride, pride for her.
Kira took a deep breath and ignited her lightsaber, the vibrant yellow blade springing to life with a low hum. She held it aloft in a salute, her heart swelling with pride.
As she deactivated her lightsaber and returned it to her belt, the other Jedi Masters stepped forward, each offering their own words of congratulations and encouragement. Yoda, small but mighty, hobbled over and looked up at her with his wise, ancient eyes.
"Strong in the Force, you are, Kira," Yoda said, his voice gentle yet firm. "A great Jedi, you will become. Trust in the Force, and it will guide you."
"Thank you, Master Yoda," Kira replied, bowing respectfully.
Finally, the ceremony concluded, and the Jedi Masters began to disperse, returning to whatever duties they had left for the knighting ceremony.
Mace Windu lingered for a moment, pulling the hood from his head. He stepped to Kira's side before placing a hand on Kira's shoulder. She looked up to him curiously.
"Your journey is far from over, Kira," he said, his tone both cautionary and encouraging. "As a Knight, you will face even greater challenges. Remember the lessons you have learned and stay true to the Jedi Code and remember that I will always be there when you need me."
"I will, Master Windu," Kira promised. "Thank you. For the lessons you have taught me, for the patience you had while training me, for everything. I could not have asked for a better teacher."
Mace nodded, a rare smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "May the Force be with you, Knight Kenvor."
They bowed their heads slightly to the other before Mace took his leave. Leaving his now former apprentice behind. Kira hesitated for a moment as she watched him go, allowing herself to live in the moment. She looked out over the balcony of the chamber down to the city below.
Life was always changing, and while there were still the obstacles of her secrets still out there, she felt as though she could now conquer them. Now, was the time to truly move forward in her life and make the life she could choose.
When Kira finally left the chamber, she felt a sense of exhilaration and responsibility. She was now a Jedi Knight, a guardian of peace and justice in the galaxy. Her path may still show the two roads that were forcing her to choose but she need not make the decisions tonight.
Jense sat in the cockpit of his ship, his head resting in his hand as he thumbed through every piece of information he could find on the girl, Kiratta Kenvor, which aside from public files was not much.
All he could find was her registry in the Republic systems database that reported only the most basic information. A picture of her face, her name, age, and last known residency.
He stared at her photo, unable to take his eyes off her. All of this still felt very much like a dream. Even without the blood test, there was no denying their relation.
He thought back to the last time he saw her.
Seventeen Years and Six Standard Months Ago
Jense moved swiftly around the hearth, packing various supplies he would need for the war he was about to fly off to. He and his father-in-law, Berrit Jusse had been called upon by the Mand'alor to fight and they were in no position to refuse his call. Not that it was even a thought to do so.
The Mand'alor had been offered a lucrative contract to fight in a conflict between two rival Hutt clans. The Crilicks, a lower-tier Hutt clan desperate to climb the ladder of control on their home planet, had hired them to take over the slave trade market from their competitors, the Byuregan Clan.
The credits from their portion of the job would be more than enough for Berrit and Jense to finally buy the several hundred acres they had all been saving towards. It would be enough to purchase a herd of nerfs for the clan to raise, breed, and eventually sell in their local markets. Bounty hunting and mercenary work paid well, but Jense knew they needed a more stable source of income. Lenore, his wife, had often expressed her dream of living on a farm, raising nerfs, and starting a family. Jense was determined to make that dream a reality.
Jense hadn't been born into the Mandalorian world; he had joined it when he met and eventually married Lenore, the blonde-haired, green-eyed daughter of a Mandalorian mercenary captain he had worked for during a summer on his home planet of Corellia. They had married young—Jense was only nineteen and Lenore twenty—and hadn't exactly planned for the arrival of a surprise third family member so soon. While the news of a baby was welcome, it put pressure on Jense to make enough credits to support his growing family before he was fully established as a mercenary.
Berrit had been blessed with six daughters, and while he loved each and every one of them and trained them harder than he might have ever trained a boy, he still longed for a son and had taken Jense under his wing from the moment he took the Cin Vhetin and pledged his life to the Mandalorian way. Berrit had promised to teach him everything a Mandalorian father would teach his son, and Jense had worked hard to prove himself worthy of the clan's trust and respect.
As Jense packed his gear, he couldn't help but think of Lenore and their small daughter. He knew that this mission was dangerous, but he was driven by the desire to provide for his young family. He wanted to give Lenore the life she dreamed of, a quaint life where they would wear the mandalorian armor and speak the language. Where they would defend themselves and their family. Where they would raise their children as Mandalorians and contribute to their clan's welfare. Where when the Mand'alor called upon them, they would rally to his cause.
"Jey," Lenore's voice called from the bottom of the ramp of Jense's ship, The Dark Lady, with six month old Kiratta on her hip. "I hope you are ready, my father is on his way to come collect you. I certainly hope you didn't pack the whole house to take with you." She teased at his methodic, often overzealous, packing habits.
Jense emerged from the inside of The Lady and made his way down the ramp. Jense was a tall man and towered over Lenore's much shorter frame. "I could leave the kitchen sink if you'd like." He teased back, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.
Lenore rolled her eyes as the baby on her hip cooed excitedly at the sight of her father. Jense held out a finger for the girl to gleefully grab ahold of. "I think Kiratta is right," Lenore said. "She says she thinks you should stay home a little while longer."
The corner of Jense's mouth turned upright in a smirk. "You learned to speak baby-babble that quickly?" He asked, trying to ignore the feeling of guilt in the pit of his stomach, Lenore raised an eyebrow in amusement, trying to hide the sadness she was truly feeling at her husband departing off on another war without her.
It wasn't so long ago that Lenore would have been side by side in battle right along with him, but so soon after birthing Kiratta, her body was still not ready for such hardships. The birth was not an easy one, Kiratta had been unable to get turned around to come out naturally and came out breach, causing a few complications and long hours in labor. The pains had been forgotten as soon as Lenore laid eyes upon her daughter but her body had disagreed with forgetting such labors so soon, and if Lenore were honest, she was not ready to be parted from her child either. Wars could last anywhere from a few weeks to several months or longer and Kiratta needed her more than the call of battle, even if she wanted to rally to her Mand'alor's cause, she couldn't.
"I will return as soon as possible," Jense promised as Kiratta started whining that he had not yet offered his arms to her and lurched herself forward, forcing him to gather her up in his arms, lest she flop herself on the floor. "Aye, Ad'ika, you are an impatient one."
Lenore made a face. "You know what is just so disrespectful?" She asks as the girl happily slobbers on the side of Jense's thumb. "I go through hours in excruciating pain to bring life to this little womprat and not only does she come out looking absolutely nothing like me and everything like you, she even prefers your company to mine. Just plain rude, if you ask me."
Jense chuckled and bounced Kiratta playfully in his arms, to which she chirped happily gnawing away on his flesh. "She's just a daddy's girl," He said, trying not to vomit at the fountain of slobber she drenched him with. "Even if she is a bit rabid."
Lenore rolled her eyes, allowing herself to laugh at the state of them. When Jense's attention turned towards something behind her, she turned her head over her shoulder and saw her father making his way down the path walking side by side with the Mand'alor, Jaster Mereel.
"Are you ready yet, Boy?" Berrit asked, his voice growing gruff with age.
"Yes, Buir," He said with a nod of his head. "I am. Su'cuy Mand'alor."
Jaster's helmeted head nodded slightly returning the greeting. "Su'cuy, vod. I'm glad to hear you will be joining us. Too bad your wife couldn't take your place," He taunted, giving Jense a playful shove. "We all know these Jusse girls fight more ferociously than any man on this planet."
Lenore smirked proudly, she had a reputation for being an absolute menace on the battlefield. When Mandalorians say that their women were forces to be reckoned with, they meant it. "Maybe next time, Jaster." She said, still smiling proudly at the compliment.
"I'll take that as a promise." Jaster said before turning back to Jense. "Say your goodbyes, vod."
Jense nodded as Berrit gave Lenore a long hug before kissing the side of her head. He turned and kissed the cheek of Kiratta who squirmed, annoyed at the affection from anyone other than her father, before he and Jaster boarded Jense's ship.
Lenore's eyes met Jense's and were suddenly red with tears that threatened to escape before she dove into his chest, burying her head against the cool metal of his armor. "Don't laugh at me crying, these hormones are making me crazy." She said through tears that managed to escape and fall down her cheeks.
"I would never laugh, Cyar'ika." He said as he held her tightly in one arm and Kiratta in the other squeezing them together.
Lenore freed her head from his chest and gave him a long, desperate kiss. "Come back to us." She pleaded in a whisper once they parted.
War was war, and in war men died for those who would not think twice about them and there was no guarantee that any of the men and women gathering alongside Jaster Mereel would ever see their planet again. Goodbyes were always heartfelt and highly regarded.
"I'll be back soon, you just see." Jense promised before taking a moment to hold his daughter close, kissing her forehead, before putting her back in Lenore's arms. Kiratta began protesting before Lenore wrapped her arms around her tightly.
"Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum."
"Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum." Jense repeated before he climbed back up the ramp and made his way to the cockpit. He would be bringing the other men to the rendezvous point in Keldabe to meet up with the other mandalorians who would be joining the battle ahead.
That was the last time he ever saw Lenore alive. The next time he saw her, he would find her body burning among the rubble that used to be their home. While the war had been won, that worthless war had not only cost him the only true father figure he'd ever known, but countless brothers and now his wife and child.
Jense had remained scarred ever since. He had been so young when everything had been ripped from his grasp, he had spent longer missing Lenore and Kira than he ever actually knew either of them. He had continued to age, but they stayed the same.
He never held any resentment towards Jaster Mereel for asking him to rally behind his call, and he had long respected the mandalorian well after his death, it was not Mereel's fault the war ended the way it did and Mereel was not the one responsible for murdering his family.
It almost made things worse at times. He had no idea who would have done it, no trails to follow or leaders to blame and so he went on in the years to follow, joining up with Kal Skirata, signing up for any and every job he got his hands on. He never dated or remarried, never even took another woman to his bed. Nothing like that had ever interested him since the day Lenore died.
He had waited years to die, often begging death would take him in battle, in his sleep, in whatever way it might decide to claim him but it never came. Every time he would wake up in the same body, in the same mind as he had the previous night and the cycle would continue.
Now, after so many years, it seemed the galaxy- or perhaps- the Force, would decide Jense Kenvor had suffered enough.