Star Wars: Jedi Fate

[Jedi Temple — Upper Corridor]

The Council chamber doors slid shut with a muted hiss as Master Taron Veyra stepped into the high, open corridor. Sunlight spilled through the tall windows, casting long shadows across the polished floor. Kyle was waiting there, arms loosely folded, gaze drifting toward the Temple's outer spires.

Veyra approached, his expression unreadable at first. "You handled yourself well today."

Kyle's brow lifted slightly. "That sounded almost like a verdict."

"It isn't," Veyra said. "The duel with Cirran and your instruction afterward were only part of what they need to see. The Council still wants more time—more proof that you can lead beyond the training mat."

Kyle nodded slowly. "So I'm still under the microscope."

"You are," Veyra admitted, "but that isn't a bad thing. Every moment you're here is a chance to show them the measure of who you are. They're watching you in ways you won't notice. How you speak to others. How you carry yourself in the hall. How you listen as much as how you speak."

Kyle glanced out at the skyline. "Sounds like it's going to be a long wait."

"Patience," Veyra said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "It's part of the training, whether you realize it or not. In the meantime, keep sparring, keep studying. And when they finally send you beyond these walls…" His tone sharpened just enough to carry weight. "Be ready, I'll contact you when it's time."

Kyle didn't reply, but there was a look in his eyes that told Veyra he would be.

Time Skip.

The days at the Temple had settled into a rhythm Kyle hadn't known in years.

Mornings often began in the Archives, where he pored over holocrons on Jedi history, the philosophies behind the Forms, and mission records buried deep in the Order's database.

Afternoons were usually spent in the training yards—sometimes in full-speed duels with Obi-Wan Kenobi, who tested him with measured precision; sometimes with Qui-Gon Jinn, whose unorthodox rhythm forced Kyle to break his own patterns; and other times with Anoon Bondara, whose speed and economy of movement pushed Kyle harder than anyone else.

He gave each man his own observations on where he found them lacking—such as Qui-Gon's tendency toward loose defense and inefficient motion—and noted how this was subtly influencing Obi-Wan as well. The older Jedi Master and his student took the critique seriously, discussing what they might do to close those gaps. Kyle recommended they incorporate elements of Form III, Soresu, to strengthen their defensive foundations. Qui-Gon saw the wisdom in it, but it didn't appeal to Obi-Wan, who preferred to press the attack. Even so, the younger Jedi knew supplementary training in the form was coming—whether he liked it or not.

Outside the yards, Kyle spent his time learning the unspoken language of the Temple—respectful nods in the corridors, the quiet discipline of the meditation gardens, the subtle presence of the Council's watchful gaze. He knew this was still part of the trial. Every conversation, every spar, every choice was being weighed.

On the twenty-third day after his duel with Cirran, that waiting ended.

Master Taron Veyra found him in the Archives, leaning over an old holomap of Outer Rim hyperspace lanes.

"The Council has decided," Veyra said without preamble. "You're being sent on assignment."

Kyle looked up, one eyebrow raised. "Finally decided I'm worth sending beyond these walls?"

Veyra didn't smile. "This isn't a standard mission. You'll be working under Master Anoon Bondara. It involves Coruscant's lower levels—and a threat the Council wants contained before it reaches the surface."

Kyle straightened, alert now. "Sounds dangerous."

"It is," Veyra replied. "That's why they're sending you, I'll take you to the briefing room."

The golden light of late afternoon poured through the Council chamber's windows, casting long shadows across the polished marble floor. Master Anoon Bondara stood at the center of the circle, his hands clasped loosely behind his back, as Mace Windu addressed him.

"The situation in the Crimson Corridor is deteriorating," Windu said. "Our informant, Oolth the Fondorian, is still in position—barely. If we do not move soon, we risk losing both him and the intelligence he carries."

Bondara inclined his head. "I will take the mission myself."

Shaak Ti's voice was calm but firm. "You will not go alone. The Council has decided that Padawan Darsha Assant will accompany you. This will be her opportunity to complete the mission she began."

Darsha stood to one side of the chamber, shoulders squared, gaze fixed ahead.

Yoda's voice carried over the stillness. "Failed, her trial did. But fail forever, she must not. Learn from error, she can, if given chance."

Ki-Adi-Mundi added, "You will also be joined by Kyle Katarn. His training in the Temple has impressed us, but this will be our first measure of him in the field. Consider his presence… an evaluation."

Bondara's eyes narrowed slightly. "I will be responsible for both."

Windu's gaze held his. "You will be responsible for all three of you—and for the mission's success."

Bondara gave a short nod. "Understood."

The mission briefing room was dim, lit by the bluish glow of a sector map projected from the holotable. Anoon Bondara stood over it, arms folded, when Kyle Katarn stepped inside. Darsha Assant was already there, seated but alert, her hands folded on the table.

Bondara looked between them. "The objective is simple: locate Oolth the Fondorian in the Crimson Corridor, extract him alive, and bring him to the Temple. Complications are inevitable. Black Sun's reach in the Zi-Kree sector is deep, and the Corridor is home to more than just criminal syndicates."

Kyle glanced at the map, taking in the narrow streets, gang symbols, and choke points marked in red. "You've been there before?"

Darsha answered first. "Once. I know some of the routes and gang territories. That may help us stay ahead of trouble."

Bondara's tone was even. "It may also work against us if the same people recognize you. Caution will be key."

He looked at Kyle. "Your orders are to assist and adapt. Keep your focus on the objective. If we split up, you're to find Oolth and get him out. If anything happens to me, you follow Katarn's lead," he added to Darsha.

Darsha gave a quick nod. "Understood."

Bondara deactivated the map. "We leave immediately. No unnecessary displays of the Force, and no confrontations unless unavoidable. The goal is to get in and out without drawing attention."