Star Wars : New Jedi

( Katarn Homestead )

Kyle hopped off the transport, waving to Maje that he was clear as the old friend pulled away and down the road to his old farm. All that left him was the early evening walk within sight of his old home.

Sitting down on a ridge that overlooked the small depression that the Homestead fronted out on to, he just drank in the sights. Every last corner and angle was just as he remembered it. Just cleaner, sharper in a way. Less worn down. The front hall. The living room.

The garage for all the farming equipment and the speeders. In his mind, he could still see them all, he could trace out the hidden segments of the Homestead still, all the underground rooms, all the way back to the aqueduct, the reservoir, the workshops, all the little rooms and hallways....

"Well, are you gonna sit there all day, or am I gonna have to call my friends and tell them they've been duped?" Morgan Katar said from behind Kyle, the Jedi snapping back to reality. Slowly raising his hands away from his weapons, Kyle stood up. Feeling the aim of Morgan's rifle at the back of his head, he kept his voice calm and steady. "The only thing I lied about was being your cousin."

"Turn around. Let me see your face." Morgan didn't like shooting people in the back, so Kyle slowly twisted around, keeping his hands well away from his own guns.

The two Katarns looked each other in the face. Kyle felt his heart drop out from under him as he realized another truth. His father was young! Almost as young as he is! The lines of age were no where to be seen, and there was colour in his hair that he couldn't even remember. "Hey."

Morgan looked down the barrel of his rifle, and try as he might, he couldn't take his gaze away from the man's eyes. They were Patricia's eyes, and Kyle's too. "Who are you? Really?" He demanded, finger putting pressure on the trigger.

"Kyle." the man said. "Kyle Katarn."

"No. You ain't." The rifle didn't move.

"Yes, I am." Kyle repeated. "Look, I'm sorry about lying to your friends. I really am. But I didn't have much to work on in the way of other options to try and find you. To see if you were here or somewhere else?"

"And what, exactly, do you want with me, Kyle?" Morgan almost spat out the name.

Kyle relaxed. Just a little bit. "To say hello, mostly."

"Well you've said it! Now go!" Morgan waved the rifle as a command away from his house. "I don't know you, and I don't appreciate you using my son's name!"

Kyle started to back away, his expression one that Morgan didn't immediately place. And even then, there was this little tickling at the back of his mind that said that said he should know who this man is. A sense of familiarity that went deeper than any name. Then it hit him. Sadness. Rejection.

This Kyle didn't mean his family any harm. On the contrary, it looked to him like he was willing to kill and die for it.

"No," he said, changing his mind. "You came all the way out here, and you weren't sneaking around like a raider." He dropped his rifle. "Least I can do is offer you some caf before I send you back." He started down the hill to his home. "Come on then."

Not objecting you his young father's change of heart, Kyle followed Morgan down to the house, and up to the front door. Morgan fiddled with the lock for a moment, then the doors slid open. The two stepped inside, and Morgan hung up his rifle and jacket, causing Kyle to do the same with his repeater. He kept his saber and pistol on him, though tucked away.

"You're a strange man, you know that?" Morgan asked of 'Kyle'. "More I look at you, the more familiar you are. You from Patricia's side of the family?"

"I've been told that on occasion," Kyle replied to the first. "And I'm a Katarn," he said to the second. He looked around the foreign, yet familiar surroundings. Old furniture was new again. Worn walls restored to better condition. It was uncanny, really. "Look, I am sorry for coming to you like this, but the guys back at the Head said you wouldn't be back there for a while, and I only have a little bit of time to work with.

"Patricia and Kyle are still out," Morgan said as he led 'Kyle' back to the kitchen where he poured the two of them a steaming cuf of drink each. "So you can drop the act. I'll know when you're lying."

Kyle knew that too. He could sense the Force in his father. How he escaped the notice of the Jedi was beyond him, but he was thankful for his existence for it none the less. He pulled out his light saber and set it on the counter. Morgan drew a sharp breath. "Are you here for my boy?" There was honest fear there.

"No," Kyle said, remembering that the old Order used to take kids away when they were young to train them in the ways of the Force. It was seen as necessary to prevent the rise of people who had power, but couldn't control themselves in the process. And now the Jedi were more desperate to recruit. So many would die that they would need replacements. "I don't really believe my own story yet. It's just so weird that it hasn't settled in."

Morgan warred with himself before the voice in the back of his head settled it. "Take a seat, and tell me what brings you to my house." Morgan's voice was intolerant of avoidance. "It will have to be one amazing story to explain yourself, and why you're using my boy's name."

Kyle drank the caf, bitter and black. "You sure? I'm fine with just being a stranger with the same name." He ignored the warning, instead giving his father a chance to back out, and himself an excuse not to go through with this whole plan.

"Tell me," Mrgan said after a moments contemplation.

Kyle tried to avoid it, but his father asked. No. He couldn't do anything against him. Not now. Not when the man he loved deserved to know. He looked Morgan in the eye and spoke the truth.

Time passed as the two men moved from the kitchen to doing actual work around the Homestead while Kyle talked. He started with growing up on Sulon, how his mother had died thanks to a broken guard droid. He avoided talking about the Empire directly, except to mention that his father had made friends with a Jedi named Qu Rahn, who entrusted him to keep secret the location of the Valley of the Jedi and his lightsaber.

Morgan listened as Kyle spoke about his death, and his quitting the Army to join those who opposed who killed him with a sternness that could only come from not wanting to break down and cry. He showed Morgan his Bryar pistol, who then compared it to his own, further prooved his story.

Kyle lifted a damaged section of the aquefer into place with the Force as Morgan repaired it. He spoke about hunting down the Dark Jedi who killed Morgan, and the culmination of the Poem of Ages. Then about his fall to the Dark Side, his giving up on the Force to return to being a Mercenary, working with Jan and finally how he reconnected to the Force to battle Desaan before taking up a position as a teacher at the Jedi Temple.

It was late evening when they got back, Patricia and little Kyle already home. "Who is this?" she asked, eyeing Kyle warily. "I'm Jedi Master Katarn," Kyle introduced himself given that the lightsaber was obvious. "I was talking with Morgan about some things, and aiding him in repairs to your water system at the same time."

"Katarn?" She asked, looking at Morgan. "You never said anything about being related to a Jedi!"

Kyle stepped in before things could get worse. "I'm kinda the lone side of this. Parts of the family, well, they think that because I went to Coruscant that I'm not really a Katarn any more." He shrugged. "They're wrong."

Patricia eyed Kyle. "I thought you Jedi weren't supposed to have families?"

"Ehhh, a common misconception." Kyle said, shrugging. "I don't have any problems with it."

"My cousin came by because of the war. He wanted to check in with me, and make sure that we were all right," Morgan said.

That was enough to mollify the Katarn matriarch. "You've been helping out?"

Kyle grinned. "Of course! I'm not one of those Jedi who spends all day sitting an meditating before speaking in riddles." He flexed one of his arms to prove the point. "I work for a living!"

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