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.

Tassk had been preparing for this day for weeks. He was traveling along the ridge, with his master Teikhos towards the Velastari Temple. Today was another trial, one of combat against another student. Teikhos hadn’t told him anything about them, but Tassk hoped for a challenge. Just another obstacle to conquer, he thought as he took in his surroundings.

It was a perfect morning, the air was cool with a breeze, but with his fur keeping him insulated it felt refreshing. His air was crisp up here, with a sky full of soft clouds, complimented by cold sunlight filtering through. The ridge was steep and rocky, a journey he had made before, as had many others before him. Sprouting from the rugged terrain were fresh green sprouts of spring, a dash of color along the well worn path. Dwarfing all else around him, ahead was an object of majesty that amazed him every time he saw it.

Emerging from the ground, as if from a seed of moonlight planted by some colossal deity, were the magnificent spires of the temple. Long ago, they had lost their luster, but the towering structure was still a sight to behold. Once before, Tassk had been inside, a spiritual journey helping to fully immerse him in the wonders of the Force. This trip, things were different.

Collecting his thoughts, Tassk strode along the gravel path towards the entrance. He heard the leaves in the trees swaying against each other. He smelled the damp earth of morning. He felt the rising suns on his fur, a contrast to the chilled breeze. He was at home here, surrounded by the natural world. The Force flows through all living things, and I am but a conduit for that energy, he thought with his eyes set upon the open gate ahead. He walked up the steps, under the statues, through the gate. The trial was upon him.

He looked around the atrium, a beautiful space, only an echo of previous grandeur, yet still stunning. His eyes settled on an odd couple. There was an older woman, standing back, as a younger mirialan woman was scrolling through some sort of datapad while tapping her foot. Seeing her, Tassk faltered in his step. This woman, with pink dyed hair, decked up with electronics, was sorely sticking out amongst the temple, even with the more recent additions of various extra buildings. As he would later realize, just the first in a series of odd events.

Tassk stood there with a somewhat confused face as she spoke, “Oh good, you’ve finally shown up.” Finally? I got up at dawn, he thought. As this went through his head, he recalled seeing her in passing, never really taking much note of her. Remembering his manners, he spoke. “Hi, my name is Tassk, what’s yours?” he asked her, and she responded with a nonchalant answer. “Vez,” she said, looking down at her datapad, she asked a simple question, “are we going to start already?” with clear impatience in her voice.

Their masters moved to the side of the atrium, sitting together on a step leading into some other building. Tassk wondered about his odd opponent, then shut down his wandering thoughts, it doesn’t matter how she fights, now is the time to focus on yourself, as the sound of two lightsaber igniting filled the atrium, one gold, one blue.

Deep breaths. Happy thoughts. Vez squeezed the grip of the dinky training saber and kept her eyes locked on Tassk’s hands, trying not to think about the fact that one massive paw could smother her entire face. Vorsa hadn’t been kidding when she said this was going to be a fight to overcome nature. You might as well pit a nuna against a rancor. Vez was just glad she didn’t have the shakes bad enough to be obvious to her opponent.

“Alright, kids,” Teikhos said from behind Tassk. “Have at it.”

The Togorian raised his blade to his face in some sort of salute. Vez just lunged with a wordless shout and drove her azure blade into her opponent's shoulder before he even knew what was on him. He grunted and hissed and leaned back on his heels as the Mirialan gave up on any pretense of swordplay and swung her lightsaber back and forth like a piece of broken barstool. Leaning hard into the adrenaline and fear, she wailed on her opponent, scoring a few more hits and filling the air with the stench of singed fur.

People always want the big heavy guys to be slow, maybe out of some sense of cosmic fairness. In Vez's experience, they never were—but Tassk was on another level. Moving so fast her eyes could barely register he turned her own tactic against her, charging forward with one shoulder lowered. Even hunched forward, the hulking Togorian’s shoulder was about chin level on his opponent. Vez barely felt it when he clocked her—she had barely processed that she was flying through the air before she felt herself slam into the atrium floor a meter away. Her deactivated lightsaber clattered on the floor nearby and rolled to a stop.

She couldn’t breathe. Landing flat on her back had taken the wind completely out of her. Choking and gasping she flailed about, triggering the shield on her vambraces after what felt like minutes. The hulking Togorian floated into her field of vision, frowning down at her, and squinted. He simply reached around the shield and grabbed her upper arm with one massive fist, lifting her up into a seated position with no more effort than it would take to move a doll. “Sorry,” he grunted. “Calm down and try to catch your breath.”

The Mirialan glared at him the entire time, but took the advice. A bit of coughing later, Vez was on her feet next to the Togorian.

“Maybe try using it like a lightsaber next time,” Tassk said.

“If it was a real lightsaber you’d be dead,” Vez shot back.

The fur on Tassk’s face rippled slightly as he considered that. “I’ll keep that in mind next time.”

“Sorry, guys.” Teikhos said. “That’s not enough. You haven’t even begun to test each other.” The Zeltron Jedi was somber, a striking contrast for a man who was normally all smiles and who abhorred violence.

Vez swore and dove for her training saber.

Tassk didn’t particularly like where this was going. He had knocked her to the ground with ease, but that didn’t mean he had forgotten the searing strikes of her wild offensive. Uncertainty abound, the large Togorian furrowed his brow as his opponent dove.

Stepping away, Tassk saw his opponent rising, determination in her eyes. He leveled his blade, unsure what he should do. I could beat her. Or I could get caught up in all of this and fry her. Deep breaths, deep breaths, Tassk thought, focusing on the fragile figure ahead of him. Let’s take this one step at a time. Just a training match.

Caught up in thought, Vez rushed straight at him, lightsaber brandished, a scowl on her face. Ready, Tassk batted away a wild slash, hesitating, then stepping away. She slashed again, and Tassk kept his defense sturdy, still evading her. He saw the frustration in her features, and forgoing her lightsaber, she raised her wrist and fired a burst of opaque energy.

Tassk felt it him solidly, sending him staggering back and off balance. Panting, Tassk tightened his grip around his lightsaber, jerking it upwards to protect his exposed chest, but it wasn’t a lightsaber that was coming. Looking up, He was met with a punch to the jaw from the Mirialin, some knuckler on her hands. Tassk heard the crack and fell to a knee, and he could taste the blood in his mouth. That metallic taste settled on the back of his throat as he forced a swallow, too far.

Tassk stood up, wiping the back of the paw over his mouth. Looking around, he saw his master off to the side, his face impassive. More importantly, he saw Vez, standing in front of him. Her weight was back, the conflict at a pause. Her eyes were narrowed, scrutinizing him. It was like she was scanning him for any bit of information she could pick up. She stared at him, with her judgy eyes, and her smug little face. I’ll give you something to stare at.

Tassk let out a low growl, a challenge. He lunged forward striking at her, the motions ingrained in his head from hours of practice. With every step he left golden arcs shimmering in his wake, striding forward, faster and faster. Beneath his blade, he saw her fumbling, weakening. A step back, then forward, a change in the rhythm. He lunged, sweeping the blade from her delicate hands, spinning in a full circle in his moment of glory.

Not a moment of hesitation, his massive paw shot out landing a solid blow on her chest, forcing Vez down as she landed squarely on her rear. Tassk backed away and circled, swinging the dazzling blade back and forth. This time, he watched as she rose, an indignant look on her face. They stood there, face to face across the courtyard. Her saber was close, but was she returning to that disaster? A smile spread across Tassk’s face, all fangs. The massive Togorian stood, watching his prey.

The Mirialan met his eyes, glaring at him. She made no movement.

Tassk wasn't in any mood for waiting. He lunged, bringing his lightsaber across his body in a powerful backswing—but without drawing on the Force, he was too slow. Vez was gone, flames gushing from her heels as her jet boots propelled her up and away to one of the ruined watch towers that dotted the temple complex. Safe in her elevated nest, the Mirialan drew a blaster and opened fire.

No way, Tassk thought to himself, dodging by instinct before his conscious mind had finished reckoning with the fact that the crazed shutta was trying to take him down with live fire. His blade danced back and forth, swatting at the blaster bolts that were mostly landing on either side of him. He managed to bat one away, a second—but finally one bolt connected, igniting his thigh in an ecstasy of fire.

The Togorian howled in pain.

The blasterfire stopped for a moment. If it was a tacit offer of peace, Tassk did not accept it. He hurled his lightsaber, the amber blade circling round and round on its journey towards the watchtower's summit. Vez flinched but kept one arm out as the blade slammed into a small energy shield that burst to life around her first. The plasma blade thundered as it made contact with the shield, then careened off into the distance. Shaken by the impact, Vez teetered back onto a loose brick. The brick slipped free and tumbled from the tower, and Vez followed, screaming.

Tassk pulled himself to his feet, lumbering forward with a grimace. His wounded leg bore weight, mostly, but he found himself almost hopping onward.

Vez engaged her jetboots again. The thrust redirected her fall, but after a mere second the jets tapered off as she exhausted the meager fuel supply. She hit the ground hard, though at least she connected at an angle instead of dead on. The Mirialan landed on her shoulder and tumbled over and over, trying to keep her head tucked in. After what seemed like ages she came to a stop.

“Krif,” she grumbled, lifted her head up. Vez swore again as she saw Tassk shuffling towards her. She scrambled for her blaster only to realize she'd lost it in the fall. Remembering her vambraces, she reached out to fire.

Tassk didn't give her the chance. The Togorian howled in agony as he shifted his weight onto his bad leg, then channeled that pain into the arcs of lightning erupting from his fingers.

Vez's scream joined his, a morbid harmony that left them both gasping for air when the sparks finally subsided.

Tassk was barely able to stay upright, but he still towered over the smoking body at his feet. Vez fought her spasming muscles, forcing one hand to the electro-shock prod at her belt.

“Don't you ever learn?” Tassk roared, pouring what little energy he had left into his arm. One massive hand shot forth and clamped down on Vez's wrist. The bones popped and finally snapped as the massive Togorian, off-balanced and overexerted, fell forward without letting go of the Mirialan’s wrist.

"Just…” Tassk huffed, “just stay down” Vez squirmed underneath him, teeth gritted, and the Togorian grabbed her throat with his free hand. He squeezed. Even exhausted, the massive creature had no trouble crushing the life out of his frail opponent. Vez gasped and choked, eyes bulging.

Teikhos was screaming at them but neither being could hear his voice over the roar of blood rushing through their ears. Their eyes were locked on each other and they saw nothing of the world around them.

Tassk didn’t even see Vez’s free hand come up until it was pushing on his face. Even then he paid it no attention.

Vez’s throat, her lungs burned and blackness chewed away at the edges of her vision.

Then the vambrace’s flamethrower erupted and the Togorian was off her, screaming and blindly clawing at his own face. Teikhos appeared as if out of thin air, frantically beating out the flames before pulling a medkit to his side with the Force.

Vez collapsed on her back and sucked in as much of the cold mountain air as she could. Vorsa was there, towering over her, not unlike Tassk.

“Did… did I win?” Vez panted.

The ancient Jedi shook her head sadly. “No.”