A Father's Blade: Chapter One

Ossus is a blasted, broken world. Four thousand years ago, the suns of the Cron Drift exploded, showering the entire region of space with enough hard radiation to flash fry entire systems into barren wastelands. Ossus, once a site of the galaxy's greatest Jedi citadel, was on the periphery of the blast radius, and though the planet was not destroyed – a majority of the vegetation and animal life was vaporized, and most of its shallow seas were evaporated, with that water vapor being ripped away from the atmosphere.

But as is the course of such things, life persevered. An array of new species, hardy desert animals and plants grew out of the existing life, and the Ysanna, secreted away in the old Jedi catacombs finally re-emerged to take up a life of wandering the lands of their Jedi ancestors.

In the years following the war with the Yuuzhan Vong, the Jedi returned to Ossus. Once more building an academy on its soil, one of many scattered around the galaxy. The leader of the Jedi, Luke Skywalker, learned the lesson of the Old Order – and the fall of Yavin's Praxeum well. He has spread the Order around, ensuring that if one Temple falls, there will always be another out there to continue the Jedi way.

But at the same time, he has made it clear that for the Jedi Order, Ossus is home.

For Tahiri Veila though, this is not home. Home is the sand-blasted rocks of the Juudland Wastes. Home is the vibrant colors of the Yavin rain forest. Home is the ice-blue eyes of Anakin Solo. All of which have been lost to her because of choices and the Yuuzhan Vong.

For Tahiri Veila, the galaxy no longer has a home for her.

The first stirrings of the day ring over the bright rays of light from the rising sun. They are the raucous caws of the flock of avians that spend the days building nests in and around the Jedi Temple on Ossus. Tahiri stands up from the meditation position she has spent the night in, the joints of her knees cracking with the sudden movement.

If she feels any discomfort from her long hours of immobility, neither her face, nor her Force presence gives it away. With a simple movement, she slips out of her cloak, allowing it to flutter to her feet, the heavy wool falling to the ground with a soft sigh of impact.

She turns her face upwards to the sun, reveling in the blue-white glow of the early morning light, feeling the warmth as it caresses her face like a long lost lover.

Her feet shift in the loose marble stones, their movements a whispered crunch. Then she takes a step forward. Then another.

When she reaches the edge of the small meditation garden, she looks down. Thirty meters below is the ground, and yet another meditation garden. Grinning, she allows herself to fall, for a second she enjoys herself-the whistle in her ears, the tug against her hair and tunic, and that little kernel of fear that maybe this time, she'll miss her timing.

As she closes with the ground, she pulls the Force to her, slowing herself down. She lands with a crunch, dropping to her knees and turning the fall into a forward roll. With a simple, graceful movement, she comes out of the roll and stands, her feet already scrunching against the white gravel as she begins her morning run.

She heads through the small town which has sprung up around the Temple, heading towards the rain forests which brush up against the spaceport. She sees other early risers out doing morning chores, with a few performing the same exercise as she herself is.

She arrives at the edge of the forest and without hesitation pushes in, slipping through the brambles and undergrowth which line the edge without concern or regard. She feels the slapping of the sticks and twigs against her face, the tugs of the vines and the thorns in her hair and on her clothes and the stones and debris on the forest floor pressing against the leathery soles of her feet - but those little discomforts are of no consequence to her.

She runs for an hour before the first stitch crops up in her side. Gasping for breath, she slows her pace, pausing at a tree where she can lean her arm to rest her head against. The pain is almost enough.

Almost.

As soon as she stops, images once more assault her. Finding Noelani trussed up in an Embrace of Pain, with the wounds from her captivity obvious – red, swollen and oozing thick blood – on her back. Then her failure to rescue Noelani - being outclassed by that female Yuuzhan Vong warrior.

Tahiri spins, and drops to the ground, leaning her back against the tree, savoring the feeling of the rough bark through her linen tunic. She glances back down the path she had come from, noticing the splotches of red at regular intervals. Frowning, she pulls her right foot towards her, noticing the large sliver of granite embedded in her foot.

She winces as she pulls the stone from her foot. She stands; her breathing evening out and as begins the long walk back to the Temple. Her mind running over a dozen different things. Trying to figure out just what is going on. Why she has been feeling a little niggle in the back of her head, the one that says she's missing something important.

Then her mind drifts back to the Yuuzhan Vong. She wonders why they attacked her and Noelani. The Alliance was at peace with the Yuuzhan Vong, and the last time she had spoken with Nas Choka, he seemed to indicate that all their military forces were accounted for. Yet what was that commander doing out there on the Outer Rim, with a full complement of warriors.

Tahiri sighs, and pushes that concern from her mind, focusing instead on the Sith. Lumiya. She suspects that Lumiya is the one who trained the Yuuzhan Vong in the ways of the Force, but Tahiri can not figure out for what purpose.

It just doesn't make sense.

"Not everything makes sense."

Startled out of her reverie, Tahiri snarls a curse in Yuuzhan Vong, pulling her saber and spinning round on her feet to face the voice. The snap-hiss of her saber igniting rings out in the near quiet of the early morning forest, startling a few nocturnal birds who had just returned to their nests. The angry buzz of her blade sounds close to her ear, and her eyes finally focus on who was standing in front of her.

And her mouth drops open, even as her blade falls from her hands.

He is a young human male, about sixteen years old. Tussled brown hair, soul-shattering blue eyes, and a dimple in his chin. He is dressed in the orange jumpsuits worn by so many at the Yavin Academy, over that is a brown Corellian-style flight jacket. His lips are twisted into a lop-sided smile which brings a sharp aching pain to the center of her heart. At his edges, he has a slight blue shine, a glow evident even in the streams of bright morning sunlight.

She whispers his name, "Anakin."

His smile grows wider as he says, "Bantha got your tongue?"

For a second, her smile falters before brightening again. "Isn't that my line?" Why does he have to look exactly the same as when he died?

"My name is Anakin Solo, and I'm dead." He speaks in a singsong tilt, almost like the gurgles of one of the many fountains which surround the Jedi Temple.

And Tahiri's smile dies - pain and anger war inside of her. Yet, in the back of her head, she has the feeling that she has had this conversation with him before. "Why are you here? Did you just come to make me feel bad?"

"I don't wear any-never, not ever," Anakin began. "I'm from Tatooine. I'm one of the Sand People."

Tahiri bites her lip absently. She recognizes this now. It is the conversation that the two of them held when they first met, so many years ago. A lifetime ago.

She racks her brain, trying to remember what comes next, when Anakin begins a long-winded spiel about her upbringing, and how she was raised on Tatooine by the Sand People. How she had been promised she wouldn't be forced to wear shoes. He ends by asking, "So, aren't you going to say something?"

She remembers the next line to this question though. "It's pretty hard to get a word in with you talking all the time."

She notices that his grin flickers into a full-fledged smile for a brief second, and then he speaks again, "sorry about that. It's just that on Tatooine there wasn't anyone near my own age to talk to. I guess I'm pretty lonely for a friend."

"I guess I could use a friend too," Tahiri replied, somewhat surprised to find that she really meant it. For a second, she wonders if Anakin's visitation has to do with how she has been so withdrawn from the other Jedi for the past fifteen years or so. With the possible exception of Noelani, she barely speaks to any of the other Jedi when not on specific missions.

"Then it's settled-we're best friends now," Anakin said with his grin once more sliding for a second into a full smile. "So are you going to tell me how you died?"

Tahiri frowns, knowing that that is not what she said.

She opens her mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. Then she feels a suffocating weight against her throat and chest. A biting coldness seeping into the edges of her consciousness, even as the edges of her vision begins to fray and go dark.

She tries to scream, but can only feel clods of dirt choking her, the squirm of something slimy and alive brushing the roof of her mouth.

"Master!"

She bolts upright, her sheet grasped in her hands, bunched up tight, her heart hammering loudly in her ears. Noelani is leaning over her, her large blue eyes luminous in the dim light of Tahiri's bedroom. The bed shifts from where Noelani kneels upon it next to Tahiri's legs. Tahiri looks around the room, her eyes flickering over everything, to make sure all is where it is supposed to be, to make sure that everything is how it is supposed to be. Finally her gaze returns to Noelani. "What?"

"You were having a nightmare. Your distress woke me."

"I'm sorry, Noelani. Go on back to bed. It was just a bad dream."

The girl looks at her, as if she does not quite believe Tahiri, but finally nods her head and says, "All right. But if you need me, just call."

Tahiri watches the girl scamper out of the room, and the lays back down, tugging the thin blanket up over her shoulder as she stares at the far wall.

Even as she tries to go back to sleep, Tahiri knows that she won't sleep again tonight.