Perched on top of one of the many summits in the Or’ena mountain range on Kiast, only a few kilometers or so from the new Jedi Praxeum, the Velastari Temple is an old forgotten Vatali Jedi temple surrounded by mountain peaks on all sides. Thin wispy clouds and fog tend to linger around it when not otherwise blown away by the cold mountainous air channeled through the mountains. The hot suns of Kiast shine on this particular peak regularly, forming beautiful rainbows as the light reflects off the metallic surface of the Vatali structure. As a result, despite the temple’s heightened elevation, the Velastari Temple and its surroundings atop the peak are warm enough to not only support green vegetation, such as trees and grass, but also humanoid visitors, who can get by with a variety of layers depending on the season. In addition, the elevation makes the air breathable, the toxic fumes of the planet only residing in the lower atmospheres. Past the peak itself, the ground drops away quickly, forming dangerous ridges that travellers can use to travel from peak to peak.

Occupying a relatively flat portion of land on the summit, the Velastari Temple invokes the Jedi temples of old but with the classic design elements of the Vatali civilization and a few changes to suite the terrain. Hooded Vatali statues flank its entrance, the aged metallic stone having long lost its luster. The atrium of the temple is surrounded by four spiraling pillars and is filled in between with a cacophony of support structures, some of which include landing pads and storage. This once well-organized system of buildings has fallen into disarray, ancient machinery and debris breaking up any direct approach to the main temple itself. Long defunct droids, some partially scavenged, can be found throughout the atrium. As to the spiraling pillars, no one is quite sure if they are structurally sound, but they appear to have been watchtowers and may have possibly at some point served a secondary purpose due to the number of additional rooms within it.

Once one makes it past the atrium, the main temple itself comes into view, towering over the smaller spirals below. Like other ancient Jedi temples, it has many mysteries that will only reveal themselves to Force-users, unlocking portions of the temple one might assume didn’t exist. Its architecture is highly reminiscent of the old Jedi Order, though less grand in scale than its peers. Nevertheless, it has all of the remains of core components one would expect, such as a Jedi Council room, housing, a library, and training rooms. Few enter the temple itself unless undergoing trials and Odan-Urr does it best to preserve the Velastari Temple from further damage. This landmark serves as not only inspiration to the next generation of Jedi but also as a solemn reminder of the Jedi long gone.

Aura Ta’var sat in front of a particularly worn patch of stone, her hand pressed against it while she reached out to the Force. A flurry of partial images, sounds, and even smells occupied the black canvas that surrounded her as the long-dead went about their daily lives, barely missing her as they flickered in and out of existence. There was a supply runner anxiously unloading another haul of kyber crystals, ignoring the usual unasked for advice from his Jedi escorts. A school of padawans played nearby, kicking a ball back and forth that inexorably almost hit the precious cargo if not for a last minute telekinetic catch from an older Sephi. The chorus of giggles filled the air as they ran off to play another game away from the judging stares of adults, purposefully running around a pair of Sephi Jedi Knights shouting at each other.

He’s a Sith, Ashla! How could you bring that monster here knowing that he—

Karvak, he is one of us! His name is Bogan and he didn’t mean—

Stop protecting him, Ashla! He did it ag—

He’s still good! I love him and—

The Zeltron watched as Karvak pushed Ashla, the female Sephi’s figure passing through her harmlessly while Ashla’s inviting perfume engulfed Aura.

“You okay, Master Ta’var?” asked Cora as he elegantly crouched nearby.

Aura opened her eyes and gave a startled jump backward, her focus blinding her to the Pantoran’s presence until now. The rest of the Velastari Temple’s atrium came into view, a sad reminder of just how far the Jedi had fallen. She sat in an open patch of stone roughly in the middle, surrounded by broken droids and chunks of a stone pillar. She reached out to the Force, feeling only the pair of them.

“I’m fine,” Aura replied curtly after a moment passed.

The Pantoran sat down across from her, his bright pink hair and blue skin almost a mirror opposite of her own. His sharp eyes watched the expressions on her face carefully before he sat down across from her, slightly hunched as he rested his hands on his knees. “Then why do you look so scared? What’s wrong?”

Aura thought back to the arguing Jedi from long ago and couldn’t help but wonder if Ashla herself had put the younger Jedi in front of her for exactly this moment. The Zeltron worried for him much like Karvak did for the female Sephi. Aura didn’t want to fight him. She just wanted to protect him. She sighed before looking into Cora’s eyes.

“Ruka is dangerous and I’m worried he’ll hurt you,” she confessed, hoping he wouldn’t take it too badly.

“What? H-how could you say that? You know how much Ru means to means to me. How dare you,” replied the Pantoran, his well-bred manners making him speechless lest he say something he would regret.

Aura lowered her gaze for a moment while she decided what to say next. It all came down to one thing. She looked back at him determinedly.

“He’s a Sith now, Cora. He is learning techniques meant to hurt others. Stop being naive. I know you love him, but that won’t change what he’s done or what he plans to do! Do you know what he gets up to with his newfound powers? Do you? Can you honestly tell me he hasn’t struck someone down in anger? When will it be you?” erupted the Zeltron, dearly hoping her friend would finally see reason.

Cora’s shock hardened into an angry shell of self-defense as he found himself standing up in frustration and indignation, his right hand curled up into a fist.

“I trust him, even with my life. How dare you judge him?! You don’t know him like I do. You don’t know what he’s been through. He came to the Jedi Praxeum to escape a world that constantly looked down on him because he was poor. Then he found you, his headmistress, and some of his own classmates judging him for how he chose to use the Force. Someone offered him the freedom to be himself and he took it. I don’t know exactly what he gets up to, but I know Ruka. He won’t kill anyone and he wouldn’t hurt me. How about you judge him by his actions rather than your own misguided beliefs?” rebuked the Pantoran, angry tears welling up in the corner of his eyes.

“He wasn’t exactly innocent here at school,” accused Aura, standing up as well.

“Those were school pranks. No one got hurt,” argued Cora as he waved his arm in her direction. “Moreover, what has he done lately?”

“I don’t know! But you’re a good Jedi and a good friend. I just don’t want to see you hurt!” yelled Aura in frustration, her own tears starting to form.

“I can take care of myself. I’m not helpless and I’m not afraid of Bogan like you!” replied the Pantoran, unconsciously leaning towards her.

“Really? Then prove it! Show me you have what it takes to defend yourself. Spar with me. Let’s see if you can keep up,” challenged the Zeltron as she met his stance and ignited her saber, emotion clouding her judgment.

Aura paused, wondering if she was doing the right thing. She knew she didn’t plan to hurt him if that counted for anything.

“This doesn’t have to come to swords,” replied Cora stubbornly.

“Ruka may not give you that choice,” admonished the Zeltron as she reached out to the Force around her, lightsaber in a high guard.

“Stop talking about Ruka like that!” yelled the Pantoran.

Cora ignited his green saber, turned sideways, and lunged towards her with a quick feint. Memories from her old sparring sessions against him came to mind as she recognized one of his opening sequences: purposefully miss then punish with a counter. She let the Force direct her blue blade to meet it, ready to call his bluff. The two sabers sizzled for the briefest of moments until the Zeltron deflected the Pantoran’s strike away from her.

Cora was waiting for it. He flicked his wrist as the two disengaged and immediately advanced forward with a precise thrust near her torso. Aura twisted away from it and spun around for another attack, refusing to give up ground just yet. The Pantoran rushed to reposition his body to recover his usual sideways stance but the Zeltron already swung at his exposed body, forcing the young man to twist his torso around to meet her head on with a vertical block.

Their sabers locked briefly once more, the discomfort in Cora’s eyes apparent. Aura pressed her advantage and slashed at him, not giving him the time or space to fix his dueling form. The Pantoran kept his saber movements as minimal as possible, curling his wrist to bat aside her assault and simultaneously backing up to what he hoped was a more advantageous position. She matched his retreat and jabbed at him relentlessly. The young man dodged to his right, and then quickly to his left as yet another swing cut him off from peeling away from her.

The fear in Cora’s eyes made Aura feel uncomfortable, but at least she wasn’t trying to actually hurt him. She loved the Pantoran dearly but sometimes he needed to be reminded of just how dangerous the rest of the galaxy could be, even if it was but a taste. She slashed at him again. The young man desperately deflected it away, his green blade finally diagonal to his body. A spring of hope burst forth as Cora found an opportunity to riposte.

As he took a step back and started to a quick slash, he felt his heel push against a collection of fallen stone debris. Hope turned into a nightmare as his forced backward retreat had left him partially blind to anything directly behind him. The Pantoran abandoned his awkward swing and fell into an old dancing routine, gracefully jumping over it in a sort of spinning twirl. His quickly brought his lightsaber into his usual defensive guard, glad for the meager additional space between them that he had earned. Stray strands of hair fell across his face as beads of sweat started to form. Aura couldn’t help but give him a second to breathe, albeit at the price of a lesson.

“If you can’t handle my Vaapad, then how will you handle Ruka’s Juyo?” she wondered out loud.

Aura’s question echoed in Cora’s mind for a fleeting moment as his grip tightened on the blazing emerald lightsaber. The Jedi’s weapon contained a kyber crystal given to him by his Mirialan husband. The verdant saber was so much more than a weapon for Cora; it was a totem he used to ward off his fear. The soft green glow reminded him of Ruka and how when they were together he felt like he could take on the whole galaxy. In that moment, the Pantoran found his courage.

“I’ll never have to 'handle Ruka’s Juyo' because he’d never hurt me,” Cora spat with renewed defiance. His posture loosened and his grip on the blade became more relaxed and natural. Fear began to give way to confidence as the young Jedi starting thinking of this altercation as a competition, one he intended to win.

Aura shook her head in quiet frustration. “There’s no way you can know that! People get lost in the dark side, enthralled to their passions. They do things they normally wouldn’t.” The Zeltron councilor paused and chose her next words very carefully. “They hurt the ones they love.”

The Proconsul’s accusations filled Cora with a righteous anger. It was just like being at the Praxeum again, where many of the students and instructors looked on Ruka with disdain because he was different. It was unjust. Aura’s condescending tone certainly didn’t help matters any. She was speaking to him as if he were still an initiate instead of a full-fledged Jedi and a war veteran. He held no intention to harm the Zeltron in any way, simply a burning desire to show her the error of her thinking.

“You’re wrong about Ruka and you’re wrong about me,” Cora asserted confidently as he started to charge toward his opponent, his body lowered with his left arm in front and his saber arm trailing behind him.

Caught off-guard at first by the Pantoran’s uncharacteristic aggression, Aura instinctively shifted to a two-handed grip and tensed her entire body in preparation to move. As Corazon drew closer, the Zeltron noticed her opponent had not brought his saber up to strike. Seeking to take advantage of this opening, Aura stepped forward with a downward diagonal slash timed, she thought, to strike the boy in the back. On the stun setting her saber would cause some pain but would teach the Pantoran a lesson.

Her weapon found only air.

Cora darted to the right at the last second and continued to run past the now frustrated Proconsul. He continued over and past piles of rubble, pillars and ruined droids with practiced ease as the young Jedi made his way to the courtyard outside.

“You can’t keep running away!” Aura retorted as she spun around and followed in hot pursuit, her saber still blazing in her hand. “Your enemies will show you no mercy. Eventually you’ll have to stand and fight.”

But Cora had no intention of running indefinitely, no. He had a goal in mind. He didn’t just want to show up the former Rollmistress — he wanted witnesses. Only a stinging rebuke in front of the academy students would carry enough weight to force her to change, or at least consider changing how she judged people. A part of him felt guilty for wanting to intentionally humiliate an authority figure like Aura, but she had crossed a line and needed a course correction. She needed to be humbled.

The debris and obstacles in the hallway slowed Aura down as she was not as adept as Cora at moving above and around them. She was, however, far more skilled than he was at using the Force to enhance her movements. The Zeltron dipped her consciousness into the flow of the Force as she ran and channeled them into her muscles. She leapt forward with Force-enhanced power and dramatically closed the distance between her and her Pantoran opponent. The Proconsul landed gracefully into a crouching position approximately four meters from her quarry, closer but not within striking range.

Cora was about to make it through the threshold leading to the temple courtyard. Still crouched and with her lightsaber still humming in her right hand, Aura reached out with her free hand, focused intently on her opponent, and closed her hand into a fist.

Cora felt an invisible grasp on his right ankle as he ran, pulling him backwards with a firm yank. It was just enough to knock him off balance and send him tumbling forward. The Pantoran’s years of dance training kicked in, however, and he rolled into a controlled tumble on the stone floor and came up in what was nearly a pirouette just outside the doorway with the midday sun beating down upon him. He had reached his destination.

It was time to stop running.

Aura walked calmly out the front door of the temple, instinctively blocking the sun with her free hand as her eyes adjusted to the daylight. The pair stood atop stone steps that led into the grassy part of the courtyard. Trees swayed in the gentle yet chilly breeze as birds chirped. Jedi students from the Praxeum, a rainbow of various species in uniform earth-colored Padawan robes, began to take notice of the pair of Jedi emerging from the temple with sabers blazing. They knew a sparring match when they saw one.

The Zeltron circled around until she was opposite the Pantoran on the floor above the top stair, assuming a saber ready position with a flourish. “A Jedi can’t run, Cora. They have to be able to stand and protect the ones who need protecting.” It was a hard lesson, but one he needed to learn, or so Aura thought.

Memories of Nancora and holding Ruka’s bleeding form in his arms flashed across the young man’s consciousness. “I know. Believe me, I know.” Cora placed his left hand behind his back and brought his weapon forward as he adjusted his footing to face his opponent. He swept his head to the side to allow the wind to blow his coral-colored hair out of his face.

“Do you?” Aura inquired before closing the distance between them in a flash. The Force flowed through the Zeltron, enhancing her speed and movements. She assailed the younger Jedi with a flurry of blows from her azure blade, staying light on her feet and shifting around to probe her opponent’s defenses from different angles.

Cora backed up slowly, parrying some blows and outright dodging others with controlled, snap-movements of his upper torso. The beat of the duel slowly became music in his head and he entered the state of focused relaxation he often used during his dance routines. Aura’s unrelenting assault presented a formidable challenge and he knew even at his best he’d struggle to keep up. All his effort was spent on defense; he did not attempt to strike back or counter.

“You’ve got to try to hit back at some point! I’m not going to stop!” the Zeltron exclaimed as she continued the barrage.

The Pantoran made two quick leaps back to create some space and focused a portion of his concentration on reaching across the Force to Aura. He willed her limbs to become sluggish, to resist her commands, almost like she was trapped in an invisible mud hole. As the Zeltron began to slow down, parrying her attacks became easier and easier for him.

For a moment Aura was almost impressed Cora was using the Force against her. It showed a determination to fight which was good. But, he still was not striking back. She transitioned to a single-handed grip on her weapon and extended her free palm toward the younger man. He tried to dodge but failed to start moving in time. A blow of translucent Force energy caught the Pantoran in the upper chest as he was starting to twist out of the way, knocking him off his feet and onto his back.

Aura took a step forward and brandished her sapphire blade toward her downed opponent. “What are you going to do when Ruka overpowers you like this? Will you be able to defend yourself against him when he succumbs to the dark side?”