Chapter 2: A Jedi's Welcome

Jan finally dragged herself out of bed, groggy but determined to start the day. After a quick rinse in the refresher, she made her way to the cockpit—only to be hit by an unexpected smell.

She wrinkled her nose.

"Kyle," she said, arms crossed. "When was the last time you took a shower?"

Kyle, seated at the controls, blinked. He hadn't even noticed it.

"Uh…" He sniffed the air, then winced. "That bad?"

Jan gave him a flat look. "Let's just say, if we ever need to evacuate the ship, we can use that funk as a weapon."

Kyle groaned. It had been… how long? Since Jan had fallen asleep? He hadn't wanted to disturb her, so he'd stayed in the cockpit. He hadn't even realized how much time had passed.

"Alright, alright. I get the hint," he muttered, pushing himself up from his seat.

Just as he was about to leave, Jan spoke up.

"Oh, and by the way—" she gestured at the console, "—we should be coming up on Yavin IV when you get out of the 'fresher. I'll be making the jump as soon as the coordinates are set in the nav computer."

Kyle froze mid-step. His face dropped.

Jan frowned. "What?"

He shook his head, sighing. "Nothing."

Nothing, except the one place he'd been avoiding was now their next destination.

Jan studied him, a little frustrated at his attitude. "Kyle, the one person who can actually help you is on that moon. So why are you acting like I just sent us straight into an Imperial blockade?"

Kyle ran a hand through his hair. "I handle things my own way, Jan. You know that."

"Yeah, and usually that means either figuring things out alone or coming to me," she pointed out. "But when it comes to the Force, I'm out of my depth."

She leaned against the doorway, arms crossed.

"I get that you don't want to deal with Luke. But if you want to avoid another fall to the dark side, maybe don't try handling everything alone?"

Kyle didn't respond right away. He hated how easily Jan could cut through his defenses, how she always saw through him.

And worse? She wasn't wrong.

With a sigh, he left for the refresher.

---

Thirty Minutes Later

Kyle returned, feeling human again, dressed in a clean tunic, trousers, and boots.

He dropped into the co-pilot's seat beside Jan, staring out at the massive green ball that was Yavin IV.

A deep pit of dread settled in his stomach.

The reception he was bound to get from Luke and the others was… less than appealing.

And then there was Kyp Durron.

Born on Deyer, a floating colony in the Anoat sector, Kyp had spent most of his youth as a slave in the spice mines of Kessel. He had lived in darkness, under Imperial brutality, and clawed his way out of it with nothing but rage and raw power in the Force.

And now?

Now, he was one of Luke Skywalker's most powerful Jedi. One who saw action, not words, as the answer to everything.

Kyle could already picture it—Kyp, standing there with that cocky, defiant smirk, arms folded, making some comment about how Kyle needed to get back into the fight.

As if Kyle had ever been the type to wave a lightsaber around and lead charge after charge like some hero in a HoloNet drama.

No, Kyp would see Kyle's return as an opportunity.

He'd push Kyle to get more involved, to help train students, maybe even drag him into some sparring session under the guise of a "friendly test of skills."

Friendly.

Right. The word was always interpretive when it came to Kyp.

Kyle sighed, rubbing his temples.

Still, in a small way… he was glad to be seeing old friends again. Even if he wasn't sure he belonged there.

Then again, had he ever belonged anywhere?

Since his time at the Imperial Academy on Carida, that question had followed him.

And now, after everything—after walking away from the Jedi, after reclaiming the Force, after falling and climbing back up again—he still didn't know the answer.

Yavin IV wasn't exactly home.

The Jedi weren't exactly his family.

But maybe he was overthinking it.

So what was he really coming back to?

The answer, he supposed, would come soon enough.

---

One Hour Later…

The hiss of the landing ramp filled the air.

Kyle stepped forward, resisting the unnerving sense of peace that surrounded him. The dark side was gone from this place, Exar Kun's lingering presence cleansed, and yet, Kyle still found himself on edge.

And then, he saw who was waiting for them.

"Long time no see, Katarn," a familiar voice called out.

Mara Jade stood at the bottom of the ramp, arms crossed, a playful smirk on her face.

Before Kyle could respond, a blur of movement rushed toward them.

A violet blade ignited mid-air, aimed straight for Kyle.

Instinct took over.

Kyle's hand shot out, his own lightsaber leaping into his palm. The blue-white blade flared to life as he brought it up just in time—locking sabers with the attacker in a shower of sparks.

A familiar grin met him across the clash of plasma.

"Good to see you, Kyle," Kyp Durron said, holding his violet blade firm. "I missed you last time you were here, so I figured I'd give you a proper greeting now that you've got your strength back."

Kyle disengaged, stepping back. "And this is what counts as a 'proper greeting' these days?"

Kyp grinned wider. "I could've waited until we were inside. But where's the fun in that?"

Kyle exhaled, adjusting his stance. Kyp was using the Strong Style, favoring powerful, deliberate strikes. Kyle had always preferred the Fast Style, relying on speed and agility to deflect and counter.

The two circled each other, both sensing this would not be a quick spar.

Kyp struck first—a heavy overhead slash, meant to overwhelm. Kyle deflected it using the outer ring of defense, absorbing the impact but feeling the raw force behind it.

Kyle countered, using a Fast Style feint before stepping in with a rapid combination. Kyp blocked, adapting, shifting to Medium Style to control the engagement.

Then, Kyle felt it.

The pull.

The call of power, the edge of the dark side whispering at him.

Kyp sensed the hesitation. He pressed harder, forcing Kyle onto the defensive.

Kyle breathed in, refocused, shifting back into Fast Style, using speed to sidestep Kyp's next strike and respond with a precise thrust toward his ribs.

Kyp barely dodged, eyes narrowing in excitement.

The fight had only just begun.