Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

3643 BBY. Ten years before the sacking of Coruscant.
In a different timeline, the galaxy would have been laid to ruin at the hands of one called Darth Nox.
But in this timeline, they were never taken by the Sith. Here, they were brought to the Jedi by someone – someone who knew what their fate was.

Umyahim scampers down through the mid-levels of Coruscant, in search of some good tea for her master. She’s a bit of a prankster, everyone in the Temple knows that, but she wants to do well on this little mission with him.
He chose her a month ago to be a padawan, his padawan, despite the distance some keep from her for being a Dathomiri Zabrak with an “innate tendency towards the Dark Side,” and the reputation she’s picked up for her pranks, the latter of which is at least well-earned. But ha! Look at her now, she has the braid and the robes of Padawan Amelugo, never again to be lumped among the Initiates.

The markets are full of fascinating citizens. Coruscant is the centre of the galaxy, to her, and it’s certainly that to all the merchants and traders who come here too. There are people with all kinds of colourful hair and skin, and clothing too. Near-luminescent yellows, greys, pink and red streaks and stripes, and it’s fascinating, the clothes especially. Umyahim hardly knows where to look.
Unfortunately, she’s so occupied staring at the variety of citizens in the market that she pauses for a moment to observe a beautiful hair-dye on a Human (or near-Human) that she forgets to stick close to Master Kerribev. By the time she remembers that she’s supposed to be following along with him, he’s already gone.

A tall Wookie should be easy to spot, but he’s not; so unfair to her, it’s not her fault that she’s too short to see over the passing family of Cereans. Umyahim tries to duck around them, but that only gets her more turned around. Did they pass that holo-cafe not long ago, or is it a different one? She has absolutely no idea.
(Kerribev is frantic. Where did his Padawan go? Why did he think this was a good idea – she’s so tiny and so easy to lose! He tries to not panic too obviously – a Jedi already draws the eye enough – but his ducking and cursing as he tries to find Umyahim is clear to the crowds, and they make way for him.)

Umyahim is pretty sure she’s completely turned around by now, and has no clue where to find her master. She could try making her way up to a transit station and finding her way back to the Temple, but she doesn’t want to ruin this expedition.
What’s that she hears?

…Something calls, in the Force. It resonates within her.

( Umyahim! )

She darts through the crowd, ducking around beings of all shapes and sizes in search of that which calls for her, something that pierces her heart and tugs her forth.
Bump!
“Oh, sorry!” She yelps, startled out of her trance. She bows. “Excuse my haste; I didn't mean to walk right into you.”

The being is a Zabrak – the shape of their many horns under a hood are unmistakeable – and an adult, tall and sure of themself like Umyahim would like to be. They have piercing red eyes, something close to Umyahim’s own skin colour, but bright and powerful. Said eyes are practically the only thing visible of their face.

( The Force sings at this fateful encounter. They two do not hear it. )

The Zabrak’s eyes turn soft as they look upon her. “No need to apologise, young one. I should have been more careful of the small ones walking around here.” Their voice is low and steady, with an even tone that sounds as if it might easily carry teasing, sarcasm or harsh words – perhaps all three at once. “After all, are children not our future, wouldn’t you say?”
Umyahim stares a little. Questions about the future from adults are not her strong suit. Luckily, she thinks up an idea on the spot, something to change the topic.
“Pardon, erm –” she starts. “Sir? Ma’am?”

The stranger shakes their head. “Mx. is fine, young one. But it seems to me that you have a question beyond mere titles.”
Umyahim very gracefully ignores their evasion of her attempt to gain a name. She hardly pouts at all, even! Then her words spills out in a rush. “Have you perhaps seen a very, very big Wookie? I wasn’t supposed to lose him, but I got distracted and then I couldn’t see him and everyone else is so tall too and–”
Before she can continue, the stranger stops her.
“Please, take a breath. I’m afraid I haven’t seen a Wookie, but we could look for him together?”
Nodding, Umyahim agrees. This will probably be all right – she doesn’t feel any sort of warning in the Force, just the usual shimmer of countless beings in the vicinity – and her master will hopefully be proud of her having sought assistance.
They offer her their hand. “You said you lost him. This way you won’t lose me too, yes?” Their tone is a bit teasing.

She reaches out to take their hand but is halted.

Inserting himself between the two of them, Master Kerribev roars, “What are you doing with my Padawan!?”

The stranger goes sickly pale, more than they already were. “A… Padawan, you say?” Their gaze darts to Umyahim and fixes on the small braid hanging by her right ear.
They say, rather less confident than previously, “I wasn’t doing anything. She just asked me for help.”
The Wookie roars – not words, nothing comprehensible, but all the bystanders drea back. The stranger looks a fair bit terrified.

“I swear, Master Jedi, I wasn’t doing anything!” They look like they want to disappear right into the ground. Wookies and Jedi both have a reputation, and are not to be crossed, nor angered. If glares could kill, the one Kerribev was giving them would have laid them out already.

Umyahim just stands there, unsure of what’s happening. She has trouble catching up to what’s going on.
(the stranger knows, the stranger has heard rumours of Jedi children kidnapped by slavers and sold, or disappearing outright with no trace left behind. they are sensible, and fearful.)
They plead, “You have to believe me, sir. Please, I wasn’t planning anything!” Their shady attire doesn’t exactly help.
Their words fall on deaf ears as Kerribev levels a cold look at them once more.

Movement catches the stranger’s eyes: Umyahim pulling on her Master’s robes, drawing his attention. “Master, Master, you misunderstand. I really did ask them, I did. I was distrated, Master Kerribev, I lost you, and I couldn’t find you. But Master, the Force told me they were safe, it truly did. Oh, please don’t be mad at them, it was all my fault for losing you!”

Master Kerribev’s gaze softens as he looks at her.
(he thinks oh, such an innocent child, too pure for this world. Oh, if only he knew then what sort of menace she’d become.)
With his grip on the stranger’s arm loosened, they manage to slip out and into the crowd. Master Kerribev notices their absence quickly, but he doesn’t try to follow. He doesn’t want to leave her, he’s still worried; she can feel it in the Force.

(it was, he thinks, just possibly a bad idea to bring a young, newly chosen Padawan into the Coruscant markets. Perhaps the creche masters have a point, with their protectiveness.
When he noticed that she wasn’t dogging his footsteps, he felt such fear as he hadn't before. Fear that someone had taken her away, be they slaver or mere lowlife.
He hasn’t wandered among the people of Coruscant with a charge to look after for a long, long time – his duties as Temple Guard kept him to the city-planet’s surface. He’s now taking a break from that assignment for the sake of raising a Padawan, but he’ll have to remember to adjust his habits, too.)

Master Kerribev returns to himself, gathering his thoughts. “All right, let us return to the temple.”
She nodds. If Umyahim’s master can’t get his tea today, he can just come back some other time, without a trailing Padawan to look after. Right now, what matters is that she gets back home safe; that, she can recognise.

As he guides her through the market back up to the upper levels where their speeder is parked, he chides her.
“Padawan, can you imagine what could’ve happened? That stranger could have just been lying in order to let your guard down. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you had been taken…”
The last part was more of a mutter to himself than anything else, but Umyahim’s eyes went wide, drawing his attention. He knelt down, going onto her level.
“It is my duty as your master to keep you safe, to keep you from harm. If I’d failed such a duty, Padawan mine, I am truly unsure of what I would have done, the lengths I would have gone to get you back.” It was a clear warning.

She would always keep close, that she promised herself, to never abandon her master.
"But I still have to give you a punishment. Now, don't look at me like that. It won't be anything bad. I'm giving you creche duty. You said you liked it there, didn't you?"

Her smile grew even wider, happy to hear that even with all her rambling, her Master – no, Kerribev – still took note of everything she said.
"Yes Master. But I still have homework, can we go home?"
"Yes, we shall."

(Unbeknownst to either Master or Padawan, they were watched.
Perched on a rooftop, above them, someone was watching. Carefully. Quietly.
So this is me, huh. Good to know her life is better than mine so far.
The figure stood up, turned around, and walked away.)

By the time Umyahim followed the prickle on the back of her neck up to the roof, there was no one to be seen.

Chapter Text

3648 BBY. Five years before the sacking of Coruscant.

“By the Force, wait up. I can’t run that fast!” Someone yelped behind her. It was Ashara Zavros, Umyahim’s best friend, and quite an unexpected pair they were. They started as rivals, or perhaps just mutual annoyances with a sense of drama, but camaraderie developed and they wound up good friends.
Maybe they shouldn’t be running around in a rush – Umyahim thinks herself a big kid now, she’s fifteen Standard years old – but her master just gave a laughing harrumph when she tried that line or him, so she might as well be silly while decorum isn’t yet expected at all times.

Ashara is two years older than her, which means their classes aren’t all the same due to different places on the learning tracks, but it’s exam season for them both and they’ve been conspiring to get away. Well, “conspiring,” more like coaxing their masters into permitting an outing, though Master Kerribev (gladly remaining behind the archives) did take quite a bit of convincing.

Umyahim slid to a halt next to a speeder, claiming it, and Ashara came a little slowly after, jogging the last few steps up to her.
“You know,” she panted, rather out of breath, “I don’t have such long legs, as you’ve pointed out to me at length, and all this running is too much.”
Umyahim scoffed. “Yadda yadda, Ash, admit it: you just need to exercise more. I can give you my training plan?”

Ashara’s look of horror was all Umyahim needed; she burst out laughing.
But yes, Umyahim knew she was tall for her age, something she blamed on her Dathomir heritage, the non dathomir zabraks aren't as tall.
Ashara who was considered average was almost an entire head smaller than her.

Nonetheless, the teasing was fun.

"I'll be more considerate my dear Ash, now get into the driver seat. You know I don't have my license yet."
She hopped into the passenger seat and waited for Ashara to catch her breath and take her seat.
As Ashara sat down, Umyahim couldn't help looking at her face markings.
She was a bit jealous, she wasn't allowed to get her tattoos for another 1½ years while Ashara was born with her markings, as they grew and spread the older she got.
"I know you're looking at them again."
"Well, how can I not."
"You'll get yours soon enough. Stop worrying about it"

Ashara glanced over to her, to see her reaction.
But she didn't react.
"And what if they decide I'm not worthy enough or don't deserve them."
"Umyahim, trust me they would never j-"

Suddenly Umyahims face darkend, anger visible in her expression
"How? How can you know? Have you been to Dathomir? Have you met the Nightsisters?? I AM NOT A NIGHT SISTER. THEY AREN'T OBLIGED TO GIVE ME THEM. So how can I know if they will give me my tattoos? I can’t go to the Nightbrothers Ashara….."

"Umyahim……"

Ashara looked over to her. She knew it had been tearing Umyahim apart since she turned 15. She can't go with the other zabraks. She knows that, they don't know the ones she'd have to get.
She can't really walk around with non dathomir tattoos and Ashara knows.
She also knew Umyahim was jealous, but today was a day they wanted to relax.
And Ashara was the older one, after all Umyahim was still just a kid, no matter her height or how adult she may sometimes act. “I know you worry, Um.”
“Then you know how I stand on the subject Ash.” replied Umyahim coldly.

Ashara sighed and concentrated on flying again.
It wasn't far from the place they wanted to go after all, so she should focus.

Umyahim looked over to her, she felt bad.
She doesn't yell at her friends like that, this wasn't supposed to happen. She lost control over her emotions, something she was supposed to have control of.

As they arrived at the market, Umyahim spoke up.
"I'm sorry."
"I know Um, I know. " Ashara looked over to her, sincerity in her eye's.
Umyahim only leaned over and hugged her.
With the exams being at the moment and the issue of her tattoos tearing her apart, she really did lose grip on the most important things.

"Now Um, we are here for tea so we can relax, think you can show me the way?"
Ashara asked in a soft voice.
Umyahim nodded and got out of the speeder.

The market wasn't as full as normally today, to which Umyahim was relivied.
Her getting lost and almost, maybe, she wasn't sure really, getting kidnapped on it, was stuck in her brain.
"So this is the market you go to with Kerribev?"
Came from the other side of the Speeder.

"Yeah, the same one where I got lost. Couldn't find him afterward. "
"How do you lose a wookie? Especially one as tall as him? Doesn't he tower over everyone?"
Umyahim shook her head, she didn't know either how she couldn't find him.
As Ashara locked the speeder up, Umyahim went to the market entrance looking at all the flyers posted up there.

"Quite a lot wanted posters. Maybe we should be careful."
The look Umyahim gave one was a dead stare.
"Really, I wouldn't have guessed that at all Ash."
To which both just laughed and ventured into the market.

Umyahim knew straight where to go, but she kept slow, so that Ashara could look around.
"So, do Ryen and Ocera still think you're oblivious to their relationship?"
"They've gotten more careful, but ultimately yes."
Umyahim looked at Ashara who looked so done.

"They think they're soo subtle, they aren't but somehow they think that. And I apparently seem to be the only one where they try that. I know others know because they told them."
Ashara ranted, which was amusing to watch. The normally composed Ashara Zavros, looking crazed over the fact that her master's were dating and thinking their subtle.
"I swear they're planning something or one of them is at least."

So they walked in a comfortable silence with occasional jokes or comments from either of the two, till they reached the stall with the tea.
The face of the seller lit up, as he recognized one of his customers.
"Ah, the young zabrak, without your father?"
They asked, Umyahim nodded.
"I brought a friend along, she was interested in where we got the tea. She really likes it."

Ashara looked at the display, there were many kinds of tea, some she knew were considered rare while others she never heard of.
"We'll take the usual. But make it double, she's taking some along for her father's as well."
At that Ashara looked at Umyahim. It was one thing to refer to her master as her father, most likely a cover story.
Well best to get along with it, even if it made her a bit uncomfortable.
"Of course, anything for my most loyal customers. I actually received a fresh delivery not that long ago."
"That's wonderful. I'm sure father will be very happy about this"

And as the older human, the seller gave Umyahim the bag of leaves, Umyahim gave them the money.
"Always pleasure to do business with you."
She nodded: "And with you."
As she turned around she grabbed Asharas hand and pulled her along, towards the market exit.
"Wait Um, shouldn't we look around?"

She shook her head.
"No, even if most sellers are nice older people you don't want to stay around too long. The guard sometimes goes and walks around here. Kerribev and I almost got in trouble once because of that."
And speaking of the devil, both of them ran into a guard.
Undeniably bad luck, but the guard didn't seem very nice to say.

"Sorry Sir, we weren't looking where we were going. Apologies."
Umyahim was the one speaking, but the guards look just darkened.
As he grabbed Umyahims arm holding the tea leaves, to which she called out in protest.

"Hey, what are you doing? Let me go."
As Ashara rushes to help Umyahim another guard shows up and a crowd gathers.
"Did you not hear me, let me go!" Umyahim yells, as she seems to get more irritated.
"Umyahim please calm down." But fruitless, Ashara doesn't seem to get through to her.
"You are under arrest." That is all the guard says.
"I'm sorry Sir. But for what? We were just buying tea. "

As Ashara tries to devolve the situation, Umyahim gets a bad feeling about this.
The force whispering to her the warnings of a threat.
These whispers get louder by the second, as the guards and Ahsara continue to argue and the grip on Umyahims arm gets stronger and stronger.
"You are wanted criminals" says the second guard, he points to a poster, low behold sure that's a Togruta and Zabrak wanted. But neither of them look like them.

The whispers of the force are so loud that Ashara starts to pick them up, as she worriedly looks at her friend, her friend who's never been good with confrontations like these.
"Listen Sir, we look nothing like those two on the posters. Here you can even check our ID's. We're Jedi padawans." She practically pushes the ID's into the second guard's hands. Praying that they'll finally let go of Umyahim, but Umyahim doesn't hear any of this, she is wrapped by the whispers of the force.

"These are obviously fake." Stunned Ashara looks at the guards.
"No Sir, I can contact our Jedi Masters, they'll confirm." As she pulls out her comlink, the first guard tears it out of her hand. "I won't let you play any tricks, Alien."

Right, great, Ashara thinks to herself. At this moment someone speaks up from the gathered crowd.
"I have to admit, they really do not look like your wanted posters."

A Human male, maybe not older by a lot of Ashara approaches out of the crowd. Holding up one of the posters.
"Seriously, the togruta aren't even the same sex. You're being a bit judgy there."
And the truth he speaks, the togruta on the poster is a blue male togruta, much older than Ashara, visibly older.
Very obviously not Ashara, but the guards just scoff.

"So what is it to you?"
"Well, simply said. I don't need to tell you. But maybe you should let them go. Because they're obviously not the criminals you're looking for."
Practically showing himself between the guards and Ashara, but they're still grabbing Umyahims arm.
"So how about you let them go, and take someone your own size on" speaks the boy, Ashara can get a good look now at his face. He is younger than her, maybe Umyahims age.

His words cause the guards to laugh, but the outrage of the crowd around them becomes louder and louder.
As the crowd draws closer, starting to rattle at the guards, pushing them, their grab around Umyahims arm eases.
Suddenly both Ashara and Umyahim are pulled away by the boy, as he leads them away from the commotion and towards the parked speeders.
"You're welcome, by the way. Wouldn't want the future 'Peacekeepers of the galaxy' thrown into prison." Sarcasm drips onto the words, as he speaks.

Ashara only nods, more focused on Umyahim, who still seems rattled by the entire experience.
Behind them they hear shouting and yelling.
"Uh-Oh. Seems like your little get away was noticed."
And right he is, behind them came the guard running.
Angry looks on their faces.

As soon as Ashara looks forward again the boy pushes both her and Umyahim forward.
"You two gotta leave now, and fast I'll hold them off. But you need to leave!"

As the boy runs into the guards, pushing one onto the ground, Ashara pulls Umyahim into their speeder.
Closing the door last second as the second guard crashes against it.

And off they go, even if Ashara is normally a careful driver, now she races to the hanger of the jedi temple.

Umyahim is slowly coming out of the force, looking at her friend.
"We shouldn't have run." Umyahims words are barely audible.
"But we did, and for the better. Umyahim, we're gonna get our masters and then they'll help the boy."
As they press on in the traffic, evading other speeders and racing through the city, Umyahim feels sick.
The force had gotten to her, almost making her lose her control. Something she trains so hard not to happen.

Something her Master had warned her about, will he be disappointed, he warned them to not get into trouble.
"Okay, we're here."

And somehow Kerribev was already waiting for them.
Accompanied by one of Asharas masters.
As both step out Master Ocera starts to speak.

"Now, does one of you two want to tell us why there was the warning about a speeder going at crazy speeds through coruscant?"
"Well….Master it really is not as bad as it seem"
An exhausted sigh comes from Master Ocera, bracing his head.
"You're gonna drive me into the grave one day kid."

Looking back at the two, Kerribev stepped forward.
"Umyahim are you alright?"
Looking back at her friend, Ashara froze, Umyahim was shaking like a leaf in the wind.
And pale, an afraid expression on her face.

"M..Master, I really tried. I did, but the force was so loud. And then the boy helped us, you need to help him!"

"What boy? Ashara, what happened? I thought you two just wanted to buy tea?" Asked Master Ocera.
While Ashara tried to explain to him what happened Kerribev stepped closer to Umyahim.
"Padawan, is it okay if I touch your arm? I don't want you to fall."

On a short nod of Umyahim he held her, her shaking calming down a bit. "It's fine young one. I am here, whatever happened. You are safe in the temple, me and Ocera will take care of it, alright?"
Another short nod. A pat on her shoulder by Kerribev as he let her go.
"How about you and Ashara go to our apartment and make yourself comfortable there. Watch a movie or holoshow. Eat what you want okay. We'll deal with it."

Ashara brought them to Umyabims and Kerribevs place. She already knew the way in and out, having travelled from her place to Umyahim's, or just in general staying after classes.
They settled down, Ashara turned on a movie and brought some tea from the kitchen.
While Umyahim got wrapped into a blanket.

Some time passed. They were well into their third movie by now, as the com on the table dinged.
"Must be our masters. Oh hey, Umyahim they got our coms back. And they want to meet us in the hangar."
With those words Ashara got up and paused the movie. As she turned to Umyahim, she found the latter fast asleep.
Maybe she should've woken Umyahim. But after the day they had, she rather let her friend sleep long and deep.
So she went to the hangar alone.

Both Kerribev and Ocera were waiting, but Ryen had also joined them. Though the closer Ashara got to them, the more she could see a fourth figure.

"Masters, you called…."
As the fourth figure turns around Ashara stops in her tracks, just pointing at him.
The boy that saved them, as he excitedly yells.
"YOU REALLY WHERE A JEDI!!! I thought you and your buddy were just joking!"

Asharas Masters chuckle at her expression of utter disbelief.
While Kerribev looks worried at Ashara.
"Padawan, say, where is Umyahim?"
As soon as the words left his mouth, she gathered her composure again.

"Ah yes. She was asleep, I thought it would be best if I would let her continue to stay asleep. She needs it."
"And you need it too, padawan." Says Master Ocera.
"Come on padawan, let's get you to bed." Comes from Master Ryen right after. As they both hold Ashara and practically drag her out of the hangar.
"Eeeeeeh??" Is all that can be heard from her, as she disappears.

"A shame, I hoped to talk to the horned girl."
Kerribev looks down at the boy.
"My padawan? Why, if I may ask."
The boy looks up to him.
"She seemed shaken by it. I guess I just wanted to check up on her."

At that Kerribev has to chuckle.
The boy does not seem to have ill intended feelings.
"Very well. Here, I'm sure she wants to talk to you as well.
She was worried."

As he reaches a piece of paper to the boy, the temple guards come to them.
"His parents have arrived, Master."

And with the guards he goes, holding the piece of paper close to him.

Kerribev returns to the apartment, the lights dim, only a faint light coming from the holo projector.
Umyahim freed of her blanket cocoon, fast asleep on the couch.
A warm smile etches itself onto Kerribevs face.

He quietly shuts off the projector and carefully lifts Umyahim.
To bring her to bed, far more comfortable than the old couch that has been in his ownership since he was a padawan.
In her sleep Umyahim mumbles something, which he doesn't understand. But it is not his to pry, he trusts his daughter.

Yes, this is what it is to be a father and he won't complain.
He settles her down in her bed, pulling the blanket over her.

A head pat and he leaves the room, looking after him as he slowly closes the door.
Umyahim lays there with a happy smile on her face, cuddled into her bed.

By the next morning she will be in contact with the boy, but for now Kerribev doesn't pay mind to the future. Happy that his daughter once again managed to get out of trouble, as he himself settles down for rest.

Chapter Text

1 year before the sacking of Coruscant.

It is late afternoon, and at the jedi temple everyone is bustling.
Padawans running to turn in late assignments, initiates planning mischief with their friends.
Masters on a walk with other masters and knights studying their mission rosters.
A pretty normal afternoon at the jedi temple.
But in a corner of the archives sits a young togruta, clutching a holo projector in her hand.

Ashara Zavros, recently knighted, best friends with Umyahim Amelugo. She prides herself having followed the code to her heart, but she's struggling.
"Ashara? Are you here?" speaks someone from beside Ashara. Umyahim has found her.
Always seemingly knowing when her friend is troubled.
As Umyahim sits down next to her, tears quell up in her eye's.
Umyahim pats her shoulder and pulls her into a one arm hug.
"Hey, how are you doing?"

A sniffle and Ashara glances over to her.
"Not good," her voice croaked. Umyahim nods.
"Yeah, unfortunate timing."
She's unsure how to really help her friend.
This is a big loss, no one in the order ever wants that to happen to one. That your master dies before you're knighted.
"What? Unfortunate timing…..?"
A bad move on Umyahims side, but she never had to deal with something like this before.
Ashara pulls away and turns away tugging the holo projector close to her.
"Go away."
She really doesn't want to leave Ashara alone, but she complies with her friend's wish.

Leaving the archives she decides to ask one of the masters for advice. Maybe they know how to help her friend.
But no masters can offer an answer.
Some preach the code, others are unsure.
Some say to distract her.
But how could she distract her from something this big.
Aimlessly wandering through the temple, her com rings.

A message from her master, saying to buy some groceries for dinner. Her choice is what they'll eat.
Yes, this'll be a good distraction to clear her mind, of both Ashara and her stress from exams.
Making her way to the hangar, brainstorming dinner ideas, she decides its best to decide with the wares in front of her.

The flight with the speeder really doesn't take long, having earned her own speeder licence, she doesn't depend on Ashara anymore.
The markets bustling and hustling, many people wanting to buy fresh groceries.
It is after all only there once a week, in complete contrast to the market where she and Master Kerribev get their tea from.
That one is there every day of the week.
But, she likes it like this. It is fun normally.
The exhaustion of everything slowly seeps into her bones as she carries herself though the market, looking at what the stands have to offer.

Getting closer to a stand, to look at the wares, she bumps into someone.
"Ah, apologies. I didn't notice you."
Her eyes widen as she sees who said it to her.
She would never forget these red eyes.

"YOU!" is all she exclaims while pointing at them, pulling the attention of the people around, towards them.
"I'm sorry?" asks the stranger, but a stranger.

It's the same person that Umyahim had met all those years ago, 9 years to be exact.
The zabrak she ran into when she lost Kerribev.
The same zabrak who is getting quite uncomfortable by the fact she's still pointing at them.
"It's you! Y-You…. from 9 years ago! YOU!"
Not one word that makes sense, but she is just baffled.

This was the same stranger, they've barely changed how they dressed and their eyes still shine the same rich red.
"I could never forget your eyes!"

An understanding starts to dawn on the stranger's face.
"Oh dear," is all they mutter as they pull Umyahim away from the crowds.
"Hey! HEY! WHERE ARE WE GOING! Hey, if you think you ca-"
"Okay, kid I'm not kidnapping you!"

The zabrak wirls around, part of their cape hood sliding down.
"I never was, listen. That back then. It was all a big misunderstanding okay kid? I never tried to kidnap you!"
With crossed arms and a defiant look Umyahim looks at them.
"And how can I believe you? You might just be talking yourself outta this. And if you try anything, you better know I'm not the same kid I was back then!"

"I DON'T MEAN YOU ANY HARM!" The zabrak yells.
Frustration in their eyes, still as captivating as they were 9 years ago.
"My god this is frustrating. Are all jedi this dense? Okay kid, how about a new start. Okay, here I'm Kratum," and with a swift movement they offer their hand.
Umyahim looks at them and back to the hand and back at them.

"I'm not gonna bite." Is all they say.
Grumbling Umyahim shakes it.
"Umyahim."
"What?"
She grumbles again.
"That's my name. You told me yours, that's mine. Umyahim. Jedi padawan."
A laugh escapes the zabrak.

"Very well Umyahim, jedi padawan. Do you believe me? Can your force thing not tell you something?"
She nods, squinting their eyes at them.
"You're well informed. That's suspicious, you know."
Another laugh: "Maybe I'm just well read."
"Sure you are," but the zabrak wasn't wrong.
She could ask the force for insight. It wouldn't hurt and the force is very quiet.
Almost as if it's holding its breath.
"And?" An inquiring look from the zabrak.
"The force doesn't distrust you."
"You talk as if it's alive."

Scoffing Umyahim just look at them.
Kratum huh, an interesting name.
"It's a dathomir name?" At those words Kratum looks at her.
"You know, let me get a close look," Umyabim says as she leans in closer.
While tall, she is barely at shoulder height of Kratum.
Their mask now completely slipped, by constantly being pulled by Kratum themself.
"Those are the same tattoos I got. Didn't think there were more non male."
"W-What?" an akward laugh from Kratum pulls Umyahims look up to their face.

"That's what the night sister's told me. They rarely have female born Zabraks. Normally they don't stay on the planet. Not saying you're female."
She leans back holding her hands up.
"But that's what they told me. They said they've not given the same tattoo design to several people."
"Then they must've misremembered," scratching their head, the whole situation awkward.

"Sorry, that was maybe too much. Apologies, you're probably right. They must've forgotten. But they look good on you," a smile.
Looking at the time Umyahum curses.
"Hey sorry I gotta go. Apologies about 9 years ago, you're not that bad. Here," running towards the market.
Umyahim was sure what she would get for dinner.

Puzzled Kratum stands there.
"What just happened," while looking down at what was pressed into their hand.
A note with a com code.
Laughing, Kratum shakes their head, this was truly not how they had planned to approach themself. But it worked out in the end.

"Master! I'm back,"comes the call from the flat entrance.
"I bought groceries, I thought we could invite Ashara over for dinner!"
Puzzled, Kerribev stands up looking at the groceries Umyahim has slung in several bags across her shoulders, arms and torso.
"That is a lot"
"Yes, yes. Besides that, help me unload and take a look at them."
Already having started unloading the bags onto the floor, with help of the force, a curse escapes her.

Now of all times she has to get caught in bag straps.
"Alright, alright. I'll help you. But why invite Ashara. She has a lot to do?"
Sighing Umyahim looks at him: "I know, I thought this could cheer her up."
Finally looking at what she bought, a warm smile form's on her master's face.
"Very well. I shall invite her to dinner."

To say it was a surprise to Ashara, when she suddenly got a com message inviting her to the Kerribev/Amelugo flat, is an understatement.
After all, she has only been sitting in a corner the whole day, even if Umyahim and Master Kerribev check up on her.
She felt bad for ignoring them, turning them away. But she can't deal with it all.
As if the force must've notified them, Kerribev opened the door.

His height as imposing as ever.
"Welcome Ashara. We thought you'd be hungry. Come in."
Nodding Ashara entered the flat, the smell of so well known dishes hitting immediately.
Guiding her gently to the dining room, Kerribev took his place on the cushion in the ground, Umyahim sitting across him.
"Ashara!" She exclaims happily. "You came."
But Ashara was just staring at the table, filled with her and her Masters favourite foods.
"What is this?" She asks.
"Weeell, I thought to make you feel better. I'd make you remember the good times."

Patting on the cushion beside herself, Umyahim looks at Ashara.
As Ahsara sits down Kerribev begins to speak.

"We know how much they meant to you. They were good friends of mine. I know they wouldn't want you to grief them like this. Sulking in yourself Ashara. Umyahim brought the idea forward. I agreed to it. I thought it was the best."
At those words she looks up, at both Kerribev and Umyahim.
Tears quelling in her eye's, fighting against them but losing the fight.
Umyahim pulls her into a hug, no words needed, while Kerribev puts some food into everyone's plates.

After lots of crying and eating the foods prepared, Ashara sacks exhausted into Umyahims hold.
"Thank you."

"Your welcome. Don't ever feel like you have to ask.
Ashara you're always welcome here."

Chapter Text

A crash, that is all needed on this fateful day to get the jedi scrambling.
Scrambling to the hangar, with every youngling findable.

"Master, what did you just say."
"The Sith are attacking. Umyahim I need you to help the other padawans. Help bring the younglings to safety."
With those words, Jedi Master Kerribev, former Master of the Jedi Guard turns away.
Away from his padawan, whom is quite shell-shocked by this news.
"I'll be doing my duty Umyahim, do you understand?"

"Master, let me help you. I'm a senior padawan! Is it not my duty to stand with you?" She asks, helpless to change her master's decision.
"No, now go!"
And he runs, towards the danger threatening the jedi order, on his way to fulfill his duty as a temple guard.

Staying behind is Umyahim, but she can't stay thinking fast as a com call tears her out of her thoughts.

"Umyahim! The temple’s on fire. You can see it till here!" The voice of Andronikos Revel comes out.
"What is happening? Umyahim why are there battleships above Coruscant ? Why is your temple burning?"
"Leave the planet" is all she tells him, shutting off her com.
First action, reach the creche clans and bring them out of here.

Pushing through other jedi groups, junior padawans, the injured, the elders who leave.
In the passing healers arguing with elders refusing to leave.
Everyone has one goal: the hangar, with most of the padawans helping around.
But as Umyahim tries to spot her friend, hoping to see even just the tips of her montrals, she can't find her.
Right, Ashara is a knight.
She is probably fighting alongside the guard and her Master.
Something she should be doing, maybe she should've ignored his orders.

A tugging on her hem-rock pulls.her look down and makes her stop in her tracks.

A youngling, fear in his eyes, looking up at her.
"Have you seen master?"
Not a padawan yet, but the lock is already growing behind the ear.
Seemingly having lost his creche clan.
"What do they look like?" She asks while pushing herself and the youngling through the crowd of jedi.
"She's a togruta! Masters said we should follow her to the hangar!" The youngling exclaims.
"But I lost her. And now I can't find Master either."

As she wants to answer the youngling, she swirls around, staring right at Ashara.
"Umyahim, have you seen a lost youngling! Their creche master wanted me to bring the clan to the hangar so she can help evacuate the creche, but I lost him!"
As fate would decide. The youngling exclaims out of joy, all fear gone.
"That's the lady we are supposed to follow!"

Relief floods Asharas face, one worry less. Having found the wayward youngling.
Grabbing Umyahims hand and picking up the youngling, she starts pushing people out of the way, pulling Umyahim with her.

"What are you doing here?" Umyahim has to yell at this point, the commotion of the jedi in the corridor getting too loud at this point to talk normally.
"I am evacuating, what does it look like?"
"I thought the knights are supposed to defend?"
Umyahim shots back.

"I was asked by the creche master of this clan directly. I was on my way to the fight but she stopped me. And asked."
Bewildered, Umyahim looks at Ashara.
"And you did what she said?? Why aren't you helping the other knights or the guards!"
"Because the younglings are more important!"
Unyahims abruptly stops, the other Jedi streaming by her.
Ashara looks back, stopping as well.

"What are you doing? COME ON!"

"I thought you'd stand beside my master!" Looking right at Ashara, her disbelief at Umyanims words clear in her face.
Further back they hear screaming. A yell of Sith is all that it took, to break hell loose.

Ashara gets teared with the wave of jedi, all trying to get to the hangar, separating her and Umyahim.
Umyahim gets washed away into a different direction.

She tries to fight out of the hold but it doesn't work and the screams are just getting closer.
Finally an alcove behind a pillar, hidden not immediately visible with a quick look.
If she can just break free from the other jedi.
While caught up in thought she stumbles over something, a foot, someone, she doesn't know.

But before she can fall, someone pulls her out of the jedi.
Looking up, it's a young knight.

"Hey you good?" A quick nod is all he needs. As she gets pushed behind the pillar, the knight standing in front of it.
"You're a senior padawan, right? So help me fight off the Sith." Is all he says to her, with a quick glance over his shoulder.
The stream of jedi thinning, the screams of horror and terror getting closer and closer.
Suddenly the knight rushes forward with a roar, she can't see what he's attacking.
But the noise of lightsaber on lightsaber, oh so familiar rings true.

Desperately she tries to call out to Ashara in the Force, no response. She tries her master, but only faces a wall.
As if he closed himself off.
Checking her com, she realizes she turned it off.
Lightsaber still clashing and she finally catches the sight of the knight again.
Getting pushed down from his lightsaber, which in turn is getting pushed down by another.
Catching her look, he seems to plea her to help.

But she fears the Sith, this entire thing, it's so much.
Death ringing loud and clear though the force, scrambling more behind the pillar, she remembers the alcove.
Crawling up there in time may be probably impossible, but she'd rather try. Than dying not having tried.

The knight dies, she hears it, his choked breath as the lightsaber, once his own stabs through his heart.
Another death ringing through the force, a shudder for Umyahim.
"There is another." a second sith seems to speak.
"He was looking at someone."

Umyahim has never prayed, but at those words, having pulled herself into the alcove. She prayed, force knows what would happen if the Sith found her.
She didn't want to die before her master, she didn't want to bring him grief.
Not the one man, she would ever call her father.

But she has to calm herself, the Sith could find her with the force.
"Wasn't it here at this pillar?" But before the Sith could continue to look, an angry roar disrupts the corridor.

A noise so familiar to Umyahim.
And the force confirmed, her master was here. Racing down the hall, lightsabers blazing.
All his imposing height played to the max.
The Sith beneath her at the pillar curses, she can hear the lightsaber turn on.
And the clashing of such.

Not daring to take a breath, she stays in her hiding spot.
The shudder of the siths death is blinding. All the rage he had suddenly unleashed, giving her a headache.

So she sits, holding her head, listening to the lightsabers clash.
Consumed in trying to push aside the headache, she is pulled out of her thoughts.
For a second her master lost his shielding, pain flooding their bond, disappearing as quickly as it appeared.
But it was enough to make Umyahim come out of her hiding spot.

Watching, seeing the Sith standing above Kerribev.
Said is laying on the ground, clutching his arm.
The Sith laughs, it sounds so cold and hollow.
It's enraging, how dare he.
Before he can even notice it, Umyahim comes yelling, crashing down onto his lightsaber. Stopping the attack against her master.

Anger falling every of her movement, pulling at the force to do what she wants.
But the force fights back, this is not the right way.
Everything so loud, her blind focus on the Sith and the force not obeying her.
Umyahim is so lost, she can't hear her master anymore.
Who is desperately calling her name, trying to call her back.

A snarl from Umyahim, barely missing the strike of the Sith.
Like a wild beast that is caged, she fights back.
Kicking, screaming, throwing whatever she can find.
The Sith stumbles to get his footing back, but grinning from ear to ear, a devious grin.
As he leads the battle so he stands over her master again.

Preparing to strike before a crunch is all that is heard, the Sith falls motionless to the ground.
Heaving Umyahim stands, one arm outstretched and in the other hand, her lightsaber blazing.
Slowly Kerribev stands up, moving towards Umyahim, still holding his arm.

"Sleep." Is the last Umyahim hears before she black out.

She doesn't know how much time passed, but as she awakes, she notices this is not the temple.
Looking around, the medbay of a spaceship is easily recognizable.
"Umyahim!" Someone exclaims, looking up she sees Ashara.
Looking a little worse for wear, but not much different as to when they got separated.
"Thank the force you woke up. The masters have so many questions," walking towards her friend's bedside: "You know, Master Kerribev and you gave everyone a really big scare."

At those words Umyahim shoots up, looking around frantically.
"Where is he? Ashara, where is my Master?"
She can't feel him on the ship and the force is quiet. It won't answer her questions.
Looking at her friend, she falls still.

Such sadness with a look.

"Umyahim, I'm sorry. But, no-one has been able to contact him."
"What?" Her throat feels dry, this can't be happening.
"What do you mean? Have you tried mine? He'll answer mine for sure."

Before she can search for her com, Ashara stops her.
"I'm sorry Umyahim, they tried, with the force and coms. No one has heard or seen Master Kerribev since he gave you over to this ship."
Fighting with tears, Umyahim shakes her head.
"You were unconscious, Umyahim. That was the last time we saw him. He refused help, just gave you to the jedi guarding the ship entrance and a data stick."

Before Ashara can continue, a healer enters the space.
"Ah, Miss Amelugo, glad to see you awake. The masters will want to speak with you. I'll do a quick check and tell them."
Stepping back Ashara gives them space.

Ultimately she leaves the medbay, when two masters step in.
Whatever they'll want to tell Umyahim are not words for her to hear.

A few hours later Umyahim joins her in the communal space.
"I am cleared from the medbay. Ashara."
At those words she looks up to Umyahim.
"Ashara, they want to knight me. I argued that I'm not ready."

Basically falling into the seat next to Ashara, Umyahim seems to falter into herself.
"They told me that I am ready. Defeating a sith and protecting the temple, surviving the attack was trials enough. They said my grandmaster will knight me."

"Your grandmaster?"
Umyahim nods.: "I didn't even know I had one. Thought they were dead. But they're apparently at the temple on Typhon."
Leaning against Ashara, Umyahim sighs.
"I wanted to wait for my master. But they won't let me."
As Umyahim takes a shuddering breath, Ashara pulls her into a hug.

"I'm so sorry."

Chapter Text

Barely a few weeks have passed since what the news labelled the sacking of coruscant.
Countless deaths and still missing reports.
Calls for the jedi to do something. But they are busy themself.

Slowly rebuilding their order on Typhon.
Jedi coming home from missions or people returning who have gone missing from the sacking.
Slowly the death list of the order shrinks. Many are considered dead, till they return.
It is easier for many jedi to consider their own dead than cling onto the hope that they may be alive.

The council is in shambles. Most of its members on the death list.
The hope of the council to lift morales lies now on Umyahim.
One of the first jedi to be knighted after the sacking.
A knighting she doesn't want, nor feel like she deserves yet.
Her fight with the Sith, it was a blatant display of the dark side, what the masters constantly feared she'd do.
But now they want to knight her for it.
She's glad that this year nothing big was done for her birthday.

But truly, with how in shambles everything is, it wouldn't have been possible anyway.
Still she checks the death list daily, hoping to see the Name Kerribev disappear.
May it be to her luck or her bad luck, the temple of Typhon had everything needed for a knighting ceremony, everything Umyahim had hoped desperately her master would be there for.

Walking up the stairs to Tython Temples, Tranquility Spire, Umyahim was in deep thought.
The high council had put her forward for knighting, but because not enough members were alive, members of the other council would participate.
Her grandmaster, High Commander of the temple guard, was the main participant.
Umyahim knew normally it was the grandmaster, but he was dead. And a new one hadn't been elected.
So they let her grandmaster do it.
A man Umyahim had never met before. Her begging to wait for her master fell on deaf ears.

Arriving at the top of the spire, it's heart.
Settling down on a cushion near a window, she took a deep breath.
This was it, no turning back now.
Perhaps she could've run away before this moment, but now?
Now her friends were waiting for her at the bottom of the spire.

A sudden noise draws her focus to the stairs, as another padawan stumbles up the stairs.
A quick look between them, a nod and the padawan settles down on another cushion.
The Sun shining in through the window, illuminating the room.
Looking at the other padawan, she can feel him sinking into the force.
Settling into the meditation position, she takes a deep breath. And breathe out.

Calming down, clearing her thoughts, emptying them.
Reaching for the force to show her her future path.
Something she has struggled with in the past few years.
The force comes easy to her, but meditation is something she has been struggling with for ages.

Slowly but surely she falls into a light meditation, sitting there for hours, slowly starting to slump.

A noise pulls her out of it, a creak on the stairs, the other padawan putting his shoes back on.
Preparing to go back downstairs.
Noticing Umyahims movement, he quickly shoots her an apologetic look, sorry for disrupting hers.

Looking out of the window the sun is setting, its warmth slowly disappearing. From this high up you can see the lights of the temple grounds lighting up, every room lighting up.
It's a magical view, a tiring view. Stretching and cracking her back.
Hurting from being slouched that long, she leans back against the wall.
Watching the sun sink, the darkness of the night covering the temple.
The room only lit by the lamps outside.
Breathe in and out, slowly going back to meditation.
Going deeper than before, calling unto the force.

Umyahim was never prone to visions, but this. She wasn't sure if this was a vision.
Standing in a low illuminated hall, a tall imposing monument in front of her.
To see the top it was to dark, but Umyahim can spot some stairs behind it, leading up to somewhere.
Looking around, she can't find much.

But movement catches her eye, somewhere to her right.
She can't make out the figure, but they seem to be drawing closer.
They're movements almost rubbery, as if they're wearing a cloak as well.
Taking a step back Umyahim tries to grab her lightsaber, for her arm not to do it.
Looking down she is not wearing her clothes as well, different but still jedi.
Her right sleeve hanging down, swaying with every of her movement.
Looking back up, the figure is in arms reach, seemingly swaying in the wind even if there is none.
Finally finding her lightsaber, she turns it on.

Holding it in front of her to block the figure.
The lightsaber throws light onto the figure, illuminating their face.
Umyahims face, but so heavily scarred, she almost thinks it's someone else.

Half of her face seems burned, one eye closed and half of her mouth in a constant frown.
And even then there's scarring on her cheeks, almost as if a muzzle had bitten into the flesh.
Her hair in a dismay and her horns broken or cracked.
Jewelry adorns the face and horns nonetheless, a triumphant look on her face.

"Welcome"

The voice seems to belong to her shadow self, it's a fitting name.
But also coming from everywhere, as if several thousand different voices are speaking, with Shadow Umyahim being the leader.
"We have awaited you. To come to us. Weeks have passed since we came the closest."
Stumbling backwards in shock, it's all Umyahim can do. It's not just a shadow of her, it's the dark side.
Yes, reaching out with the force, she can feel it.
The slick and cold tendrils of the dark side, awaiting her to reach for them.
"You've used us back then. Now you fear us?"

Stepping further back from herself, she tries to get distance, but the figure keeps coming closer.
"Why fear us? You destroyed your foe with us."
Holding her head with one hand, Umyahim snarls. She doesn't want to remember that dreadful action.
"Stop it." Is all she can say.
The figure laughs, it is Umyahims laugh, but so cold, so haunting, it sends shivers down her spine.
"Then make us."
The words echoing through the entire room, seemingly multiplying.
"This can't be my future." Is all she mumbles, still staring at herself, lightsaber still illuminating the space between them.
"You could have everything you want."

At those words the room illuminates fully.
Up the stairs is some kind of a balcony, on it a bunch of warped figures, all thrown into shadow.
Chanting something, in a language she doesn't understand.

"I don't want anything. Not from you! This can't be my future. I won't let it!"
Swinging her saber at herself, barely missing as they step away.
"Don't be rude."
Rude? What a joke. Pushing forward and keeping a consistent flow of attacks.
Everyone misses by just a hair, her shadowy self stepping away always in the less second.

"You said you wanted a fight. THEN FIGHT ME!"

A sharp grin on her opponent's face, suddenly a lightsaber right next to her face.
Dark Umyahim is fast, hacking against her defence from different angles, all almost at once.
"We are you."
The chanting from the balcony swelling, as if a song was coming to its climax.
Backing away further and further, Umyahim is frantic.

She can't fail this, she doesn't want to fail this, she doesn't want to become what some Masters still see her as.
She hears the whispers about her, the protest to her knighting, saying she led the Sith into the temple, that she let them in.
That she was responsible for the disappearance of her master and it grinds her gears.

It angers her, but not a cold blooded anger, no this is boiling hot.
With new found strength, she starts to attack whenever she spots a break in her opponent's defence.
Something that proves to be increasingly difficult, she has to run more often than not, as now Dark Umyahim starts shooting lighting.

"This is crazy." She mumbles to herself, ducking behind the tall monument in the middle of the room. She doesn't know how long she spent in this vision, just trying to survive herself.
But also someone who is not her.

The chanting continues, though now she can hear different people, who are yelling something, but the chanting is still too loud to understand what is being yelled.
"They're chanting for us" the voice coming right by Umyahims ear.
As she ducks, the smell of burned hair fills her nose.
Looking up dark Umyahim is standing there, lightsaber buried in the stone of the monument, right where she just stood.

"Do you know what they're saying? Tave Wo Kal’Evos. The one Emperor, us we are the one!"

This is getting really to much, at this point Umyahim starts believing she must be dreaming.
And even for a dream this is crazy.
Kicking her opponent away she runs towards the stairs, hauling herself up them, still unable to use her right arm.

She really would like to know what's up with that.
"You can't run. You can't hide where I won't find you!"

Looking down at her opponent, she feels pity, that she could have that as her future.
The yelling gets louder, looking up to the balcony, some if the figures seem to be reaching for her.
Focusing back on the fight, she decided to engage first.

Before dark Umyahim can react, Umyahim throws her lightsaber at them.
Fully expecting it not to hit, she yells a cry of joy as the lightsaber knocks her opponent's lightsaber, out of their hand.
A snarl on dark Umyahims face however shuts her up quickly.
Calling the lightsaber back to her, causing her opponent to evade it, she pressed forward with the attack.

Slashing and hacking, not following the way she was thought to fought, but fighting dirty now seems the only way to get over this fight.
A kick there, a punch there, paired with the occasional lightsaber slash.
And then, in a flash her opponent was distracted, trying to get their lightsaber back.
Lunging forward and stabbing them right to the chest, the chanting ended.

The sudden silence is unnerving and a hollow laughter follows, coming from them.
The laughter coming from the dying shadow that looked like Umyahim, echoed by the figures atop the balcony.
"Why are you laughing?!" Frantically Umyahim looks around, while keeping her saber right where it is.

A hot pain erupts from her hip, causing her to look downwards.
The lightsaber of her enemies, cutting her, before dragging to the side.
As quickly as the laughter started, it subsided and the shadowy figure that was her disappeared.
Clutching her hip, Umyahim looks around, the balcony empty.
Crumbling to the ground, still holding her hip as the pain curses through her body.
Like thousand upon thousand of lighting boots, hitting their target at once.

Trying, but failing miserably to not scream, she awakes in the room atop the spire.
Everything is still hurting, panting as she slowly sits up, cursing as the pain multiplies.
Looking out the window the moon of Tython shines in, basking everything in a silver light.
Slowly the pain fades as she continues to look out the window.

Attempting to sit up again, she leans against the wall.
Taking a few more minutes before journeying down the stairs, where her friends are sitting at the bottom.

Arriving she sees them all.

Leaning against each other as they sleep. Moving past them she ventures deeper into the temple, towards the quarters assigned to everyone.
In her case a simple room, nothing more, but she doesn't need more, she assures herself.
Stepping into it and turning the light on a feeling of grief fills her.

Her room being not only a total opposite of her old one on Coruscant, but that anything that made her and Kerribevs flat their own, gone.
Any existence of him is gone, as if he never existed.
Sitting down on the bed, she lets her tears fall.
Crying for everything that's gone, everyone that is gone.
Sending one last prayer to the force that her master may still be alive, safe and sound.

Their bond is gone, a hole left there.
Either he had separated it or he was really gone.
But she ignored it for now, settling to go to bed.

Somewhere else in the galaxy a wookie woke up.

Chapter Text

Waking up with a starter, Umyahim blinks away the last bit of sleep.
After her "Vision" she had a restless night of sleep.
Checking her com she finds a summon to the knighting later in the afternoon.

Another message from Andronikos, still worried about her and checking up how she's doing.
But no answer from Kratum, her question for advice still left unread.

Putting the com back down, she forces herself to get up.
She has a lot to prepare for, so first things first get dressed and go to the quartermaster. In hope they have been able to salvage some stuff or have been able to start anew.

But, first things, the cafeteria was worth a visit. Just for a quick breakfast.
Feeling the eyes of the masters on her.
The rumours are already spreading, after her long stay in the tower and afterwards disappearing into her room.
Only seen by the temple guards of Tython.
Grabbing her breakfast, she searches for a seat, but the cafeteria seems busier than normal, more lively.

A tension is buzzing in the air, as Umyahim finally finds an empty table and sits down.
But no conflict breaks out, just the static tension that has one on the edge of their seat.
Still, she is able to eat in peace, even her way to the quartermaster no-one bothers her.
It's weird, she'd expect that atleast the younglings would come to her.

Was Ashara's knighting like this? Umyahim isn't sure, she had missed it due to not being on the planet at the time.

Poking her head into the quartermaster office, her body follows shortly.
It's always quite dim here, even in the office on Coruscant, the quartermasters rarely let light openly in.
Now one remains, the quartermaster of Tyhton and his assistant.

"Excuse me?" Umyahim calls into the room, followed by a crash, cursing and the assistant pokes her head out of a mountain of things. Umyahim isn't really sure what those all are.
"Yes? How can I help you?" She asks, a board with papers in her arms, pushing her glasses back up.
All in all, the assistant looks like she hasn't slept in a week.
"Right. I was wondering if any Knight robes were able to be salvaged, or if any new ones were made?"

Looking down, the assistant seems to scan her papers before looking back up.
"Umyahim Amelugo, correct? Due to her knighting today." Umyahim nods, before being pulled behind a curtain and towards what seems like a dressing room.
"The master is waiting in there to make sure he has gotten the measurements right."

Looking back at the assistant, she notices a braid dangling behind one ear, a very long braid reaching the assistant's hip.
The same assistant who is making a pushing motion to the dressing room.

Stepping into it as the curtain swooshes close behind her she looks around shortly.
Less like a dressing room, more like a dressing studio.
Mannequins, cloths and leather straps, some pouches here and there.
Some Mannequins are dressed, some not, some display finished works, others are still in process.
Mumbling to her side, causing her to startle, draws her attention to the other person in the room.

A harch, rather small for their species.
This must be the fabled Master Hämähäkki, though Umyahim has heard the name Pavouček more.
It seems to be his nickname.
"And who are you?" Master Hämähäkki asks.
"Umyahim Amelugo Master."

He nods and points towards a slightly raised platform surrounded by mirrors.
"Yes, you're on my list," a short series of clicks and he continues: "Knight robes, yes I've got them. But we've salvaged something. The force tells me," he drags the me before continuing: "that you might be interested in it."
And with those words the older Master todles back into the further back of the room, too dim to see what he is rummaging through.
"We'll send the robes to your quarters." Another scare, you'd think a Master with his age would be louder in his walking.
"Here, a really buggy one. Force save me, it kept bugging me"

Holding out a cloak, the fixed spots are obvious, but it seems like they're meant to be this way.
But the robe drags on the ground by a lot, a very lot.
The cloth used to patch the robe is a dark green with a beige stitching.

Taking it into her hands, reading the initials on the inside of the robe, Umyahim could cry.
"Found it a few weeks ago, shortly before the attack," more clicking: "didn't think nothin of it. But it kept bugging me after your appointment was made."
The master is looking at her now: "Guess it's important."
Umyahim nods, while holding the cloak closer.
"It was my masters." The Harch nodding in understanding.

"Ah, yes that is probably the cause." Turning around he calls some papers to him with the force.
"Now, you wanted us to make your knight robes after these drawings," the S dragging a bit as the elderly master scams the paper.: "I've redrawn them here. The file was very damaged."

Nodding to himself, before he turns around the paper, the old master hands them over to Umyahim.
Grabbing the robe back from her arms and holding onto it, lucky him she thinks.
He has 4 more arms to hold stuff.

As she turns to the papers to study them, a sharp breath is pulled in.
The drawings on there, almost perfectly mimicking the same drawings she had found on the data pad that belonged to her master.
It was one of the rare few things people, who came later to the temple, were able to salvage from the Coruscant temple.
It had been first given to the guard, he was an old member of it, but they had given it to Umyahim.
She was glad, giving the papers back she gave a small smile to the old master.

"It looks great, I'm sure the robes will as well."
This causes the old harch to laugh :"Of course the robes will be good. I made them."

Taking the cloak back and thanking Master Hämähäkki, Umyahim walks back to the entrance of the office, which is so much more.
The assistant, whom Umyahim is sure is Master Hämähäkki's padawan, fighting with the same mountain of stuff she had crashed out of earlier.
Stepping through the door and closing it behind herself, Umyahim is sure she can hear the padawan yell for her master.

Something along the lines of a spider being there, before the door tears open and the padawan is running away.
With a very fast speed, while only laughter can be heard from the Office and a "it isn't even that big one".
Quite a humorous pair those two are.
But the sun is striking midday.

It is time.

Marching back to her room, surprised to already find the package of the quartermaster sitting on her desk.
Opening it, it is exactly like Ashara told her.

The robes all appear to be covered by a black film.
And no matter how she holds them no colour shimmers through.
Putting them on does make it slightly difficult, all being the same colour, but she manages.
Looking down at the box Ashara had prepared for her earlier, she slowly takes out some of the things Ashara put in there.

Apparently Ashara had asked all the Zabrak Jedi around the temple for help.
All of them congratulating her on becoming a knight.
Digging further into the box, there's something from Ashara and another from Andronikos.
How Ashara got over her rivalry with him for this, is something Umyahim can't imagine
Something catches her eye, a simple paper package.

A big K written on it.
Opening it there's a folded note and a necklace.
Folding the note open, Umyahim begins to read.

Umyahim,
I know I've not been answering your messages.
I was and still am undercover, how your friend tracked me down is beyond me.
But she said you're getting knighted, congratulations.
My apologies that I can't be there, I am assuming by the time you read this I will also still be undercover.
But I've prepared a gift.
Your friend said your father's lightsaber was green.
I hope you like the gift
-Kratum

Checking back a sob, she fully looks at the necklace.
It is simply made with some leather straps, but in the middle a green stone.
Some red splatters on it, swirling into a pattern with the green.

Not too flashy for a jedi, just right for it to go unnoticed.
Of all the gifts, this is the only one Umyahim puts on.
As she wants to leave, another note falls from the box.
Addressed to her, it is written by a nightbrother from Dathomir.
It is a simple note.

But effective.

If you ever want to, you are always welcome to Dathomir.
You're welcome to meet the family.

As nice as the zabrak jewellery was, this was so much better.
Gathering her nerves she leaves her room. Leaving everything on her desk, before letting the door fall close.
The Jedi are long accustomed to the black robes of someone going to their knighting ceremony, but still it is an unusual sight at the moment.

Her robes bellowed behind her, almost like a shadow following her.
Just feeling the hem of the sleeves makes her appreciate the craftsmanship of Master Hämähäkki.
Slowly but surely she is reaching the hallway to the knighting hall.
Only illuminated but candles on the walls, she steps forward.
It is after all almost time.

Waiting in front of the doors can be exhausting, as the masters of the council will meditate before every knighting.
But slow steps draw her out of her mind, she read the rules.
Normally the padawan enters through these doors alone.

Turning around, a tall man is slowly stepping up next to hear.
Ducking slightly, the man looks down at her.
He must be even taller than Master Kerribev, is all she can think.
Before looking back to the door and straightening her back.

In the dim light Umyahim couldn't get a good look what species the man was, but he wasn't wookie that's that's sure.

"Is this a way to greet your grandmaster?" And with those words the doors to the chamber open.
The man stepped forward into the head of the circle.

This was Ija Hirny? The high commander of the temple guard, her Master's Master?
But before she can continue to think about it, one of the masters calls her in.

Stepping forward into the middle of the circle, Umyahim kneels down.
Bowing her head before the masters as the lightsabers erupt from everyone's hands.
Held high above before coming down, pointing towards the middle, toward her.
Her grandmaster steps forwards, lowering his saber, but not enough to reach her shoulders yet.
And he speaks.

"We are all Jedi. The Force speaks through us. Through our actions, the Force proclaims itself and what is real. Today we are here to acknowledge what the Force has proclaimed, Umyahim Amelugo, Padawan of Jedi Master Kerribev."

Lowering the saber on her right shoulder, then her left, he swiftly cuts off her braid.
All she can do is watch it fall to the ground, next to her lightsaber, laying in front of her.
As he moves backwards, his saber angling towards her now as well, he speaks again.

"By the right of the Council, by the will of the Force, I dub thee Jedi, Knight of the Republic."

This was it.
Grabbing her lightsaber and braid, Umyahim stands slowly up.
Bowing to the masters, she turns and leaves the chamber.

The hallway now brightly lit, she can hear someone yell from the entrance to the hallway.
As she walks out, cheering erupts, looking around she spots her friends.
Somehow Andronikos is here. It seems like Ashara really got over her Rivalry.
Speaking of Ashara, Umyahim is quickly scooped up by her.
Ashara being the loudest in cheering, twirling Umyahim around in her arms, as the master slowly filters out of the chamber and the hallway.
The looks of amusement clear on all their faces.

Last to leave is Umyanims grandmaster, the only one with a stoic expression.
As Ahsara lets Umyahim down again, the master come to congratulate her, telling her it was a beautiful Ceremony.
Grinning from ear to ear, Umyahim happily accepts all of them. Somewhere someone pops a bottle of alcohol, causing more cheering, demands by some to hand out the drinks as everyone settles down on a cushion, on a table set up.
When they carried so many tables and cushions here, Umyahim couldn't imagine.
Laughing as Ahsara goes to break up the fight over the alcohol, stating they have enough for everyone.
Her grandmaster makes himself noted again.

"So you've finally moved on." Swirling around to him, she stares at his face.
"Excuse me?"
"I was told you kept insisting my former padawan was still," a pause, the older man seeming to search for the right word. "Alive. But he is with the force. You should know that, or did you skip those classes?"
Never had Umyahim met a more arrogant person.
"Don't preach the jedi code to me, I know it better than you think!" She swears at him, after all this was supposed to be a happy celebration.
In her hand she still is holding her severed braid, which is pulling his attention now.

"So when will you give it?"
"What?"
"The braid, have you not studied our ways? The padawan gives it to the master. But he is dead, so it goes to the next person. Me, your grandmaster."
Looking at him coldly, Umyahim can't believe what she's hearing.

"Leave, you've ruined the celebration enough!" Is all she tells him, before tying the braid around her wrist.

He doesn't argue and she is quite glad for that.
As he leaves, Umyahim spots someone whom she didn't think she'd see.
Jogging over to them, a quick look is all that is needed, before both head off outside.
It has been a while since Umyahim could catch up with Kratum.

The wookie once again awakes.

Chapter Text

It doesn't happen often that the wookie awakes, with a clear enough mind.
Even then, a fog still clouds most of his thoughts. It is exhausting to try and remember at all why or how he is here.
Wherever this might be.
But something has changed, he isn't alone.
A cloaked figure is walking down the path, towards that creature suspended in the air. He was held by something invisible, but it has been like this since he woke up the first time.
The figure doesn't pay him any mind, so he looks around, but not a lot has changed.
His left arm still ends in a stump where his hand should be, his clothes the same dark color as three awakings ago.
Before that they were tattered, but at least they seem to regularly change the bandage around his stump.

Suddenly his head gets yanked back, another figure, this one not with a hood.
Disdain on their face, a snarl as they look right into his eyes.
A call from the hooded figure causes this one to shove him back forward, his neck aching from the sudden pull.
The hooded figure now approaches him as well, they seem to speak, but the fog becomes stronger, he can barely hear them.
And even then, he can't make out what they are saying, his mind not hearing anything familiar in the language.
As the fog takes over again, he tries at least once to grab that light he always sees when he closes his eyes.
Brushing against it is all he manages, for the first time he even manages to brush it at all, then the fog comes and he is gone once again.

Almost dropping a kettle in shock, the sudden feeling from someone in the Force wanting her attention, it is a lot for someone in the morning.
Though Umyahim is able to collect herself quickly, she still spilled some tea.
She knew that force presence, though it never was this rough, always soft and calming.
It was her master's, but after almost 10 years since the sacking and the temple giving up any hope that after these years he might be still alive, he and several of the Coruscant temple guards were written as dead.
Burials were held, with the temple guard, those not being open to anyone but the council and the guard.

Sighing to herself, she slowly put the kettle down.
In times like these, she wishes her master was still here.
But he has been buried along with the other guards, even if nobody was ever found.
Years have passed since then, 10 years to be exact since he disappeared.
Umyahim has been pushing him further into the depths of her mind to focus on the missions given to her.

But one of these feelings, just like it happened a second ago, had distracted her on one. Costing her right arm.
She almost lost her lightsaber as well, but rescue came in just that moment.
It had been a cruel mission.

A jedi, she partnered with for it, betrayed them. He had brought her before a sith, a sith who wanted to see her fear.
What better way to get it than torture.
She was lucky she sent out the rescue signal, when she did. Else, she can imagine how it would have ended.
This had consequences though, or lasting injuries. Her voice will never be the same, or as strong as before.

She was offered a prosthetic arm, but she refused.
She`ll learn to live like this. And she did in a way. She changed, she abandoned the path of a jedi knight, and became a creche master instead.
She shares the responsibility with a fellow creche master. So they can be her voice, when needed.
This morning so far has been rather calm though, the initiates sleeping in. A rare occasion, as every one of the kids are prone to visions. Should she maybe not have chosen this clan, as someone unfamiliar with them.

Maybe, but that's why there's two creche masters for this clan.

But speaking of the devil, the curtain to the small kitchenette is torn to the side. A snotty face Twi-lek looking at her, Ayy, one of the younglings part of the Ka´Ra clan.
“Olma'nabsilai ril had li obyrru!” Ayy was still one of the younger members of the clan. Almost the youngest, if they had not received little Yutri. He is the youngest of them all. Barely a toddler, but his visions were too loud for the creche.
So he was put into her clan, in hopes that in the presence of the other kids they might calm down.

Ayy still was very young nonetheless, barely reaching Umyahims knee, but she couldn't blame the youngling for that, she was very tall after all. Not as tall as some of the wookie masters, but still tall.
Umyahims Ryl wasn´t the best, but she still knelt down, before the crying youngling.
“Li vision?” looking down at Ayy, who was holding onto Umyahims cloak now.
She'd have to wash it again, but this wasn´t an uncommon experience.

“Koa enki ka?” still waiting for Ayy´s answer, she slowly wraps her cloak around her. Poor one is shaking like a leaf?
Finally she looks up at Umyahim, a glossy ness to her eyes, as if she can't really see Umyahim.
They really need to get her eyes checked, but Ayy speaks: “Shar, tol et ilar qi leha bril.”
Those weren't news to Umyahim, Ayy was always prone to violent visions, since she was brought to them.

Visions of death and destruction, but this one was different. The fire and ash, that wasn´t uncommon for her, but sadness?
Rarely did Ayy have visions with emotions. Having successfully wrapped Ayy in a blanket burrito, Umyahim carefully picks her up, with help of the force.
Carefully holding onto her, sending calm waves through the force, she manoeuvres out of the kitchenette.

Her partner is now awake too, a chiss by the name of Prera'orv'iameo, though everyone just calls her Aorvi.
“Did she wake anyone else?” Umyahim shakes her head, hoping she's right.
But immediately a cry rings from one of the rooms, Yutris room, as he is awake.

Aovri disappears into Yutris room, as Umyahim continues to calm Ayy.
Normally a clan in the creche would be all around the same age, but her clan is an exception.
Umyahim likes it like this, maybe she should have gone with creche master from the beginning.
They're like one big family, though only the young ones have their own rooms.
The older ones share rooms. Finally the sniffles of Ayy subside as starts to chew on Umyahims necklace.

Grasping the necklace out of her mouth, she slowly puts Ayy down.
She has to do a lot of things slowly now, even if she can use the force as her second her quite often.
As Ayy turns towards the toys strewn across the common space, Umyahim makes her way back into the kitchenette.
Luckily the tea was as good as done when Ayy burst in, so she can grab it and bring it to the table.
The older ones should be up soon, for their classes.
Grabbing cereals and blue milk from the fridge, she makes her way back to the table.
It is a similar one as the one she had during her padawan days.

She is glad for that, it makes many things easier for her.
Yutris seems to have calmed down, as Aovri is returning with him in her arms.
Grabbing a tissue, Umyahim cleans his face, before they sit him down next to Ayy.
Enjoying the calmness, Aovri and Umyahim just stand, soaking it in.
But speaking of the devil, the door to the first shared room opens.

Hath groggily coming out, the sleep still written on his face.
Yawning before plumbing down on his cushion, as he is followed by Jowkatta, their pureblood sith child.
He was brought to the temple quite late and due to being a pureblood sith, had a hard time being accepted by his peers.
When the council for the creche stood before the decision which clan he should be appointed to, Umyahim stepped forward.
She knew the exact issue that Jowkatta was facing, it took her years for the older masters to stop worrying that she'd turn to the dark side.
Since then it has been roughly 5 years, Yowkatta grew into a respectable initiate, close to the age of when normally a padawan is chosen.
Sure it is not uncommon for padawans to be chosen later, but most are chosen earlier on.
Umyahim has been playing with the thought of taking him on, but would he even want to be a creche master, she is not sure.
He takes his place next to Harth, as Umyahim goes to wake the other kids.

Waking the other kids, as they grumble that it is too early she slowly cleans after them.
The older ones eat their breakfast fast, readying themself for their lessons today.
The younger school goers, take it slow, but realising they might be late, rushing gathering their materials and getting ready.
At the end only 5 kids remain, those too young to attend classes yet.
Ayy and Yutris are the two youngest, with the other 3 younglings, almost being old enough to attend classes.

Those three are now sitting in the corner discussing stuff the older ones have talked about.
As Aovri and Umyahim clean up the table, Umyahims com ring.
After a short signal of Aovri, she makes her way near the entrance to their room.
Looking at the message her breath stops.

It is a message by Kerribev. She had never let his code go deactivated, but no one should be able to send anything.
Except, he was not dead. And actually alive.
But all the message was “Come”.
That was all that was written.

Disappearing into her and Aovr´s room, she scrolls through her contacts.
She knows maybe she should talk about this with Aovri first.
But she needs to talk to them.
Luckily she doesn´t need to wait long, Kratum answers her com almost immediately.

“Umyahim? What is it? You normally don't call during this time?”
Never has she been so relieved to hear their voice.
“I got a com, Kratum.”
“Are you alright? You sound shaken?” comes the answer.
No she wasn't alright, but they can make it better.
“It was from Kerribev.”
“K..Kerribev? Wasn't that your master? Didn´t he get declared as dead…..”
The confusion in Kratums voice is evident.

“What should I do? All it says is come? Come where… Kratum, I need your help with this.”
No answer, silence, all she can hear is some movement.
“You're in the temple, right? So no one is spying on you. Umyahim I need you to not freak out okay.”
Laughing, she answers,: “How can I not? I suddenly got a message from my long dead believed master.”
“I know, I know. But I need you to calm down, okay? I got a message too.”
That stops Umyahim. Kratum got a message too? From Kerribev? Did they ever know each other?
“Before you ask, no it's not your master. It's someone dear… to me.”

Both are now silent, Umyahim can hear Kratum working through the com, as well as the clinking of the dishes in the sink as Aovri washes them.
“Okay, Umyahim. Listen, I need you to respond to the message.”

“What?”
“Yes, respond to it. Tell me what answer you get.”
Following Kratums orders, she does.
A new message pops up, coordinates, but for where, she can't imagine.
“What did you get?”
“Coordinates…”
Still in shock, she ignores Kratums curse, as they begin to talk again.
“Can you tell me the coordinates, or forward them to me?”
“Yes, wait a moment”

As she carefully copies them and sends them to Kratum her worry rises.
Is this really Kerribev and does he need help? Is that why he is finally reaching out to her.
“Okay, Umyahim, you and I got the same coordinates. Someone wants to meet us.”
Meet them? But why contact them through the coms from people dear to them?
“Umyahim, I do not expect you to come to the coordinates. I don´t think you even can.”
“Where? Where do they lead?”

A sigh from Kratums end,: “I knew you´d ask that. They lead to a planet, Korriban, it is a planet filled through and through with Sith.”

Another pause before they continue.
“I can't expect you to go there. Don´t worry, I´ll go.”
“Alone? No, no Kratum I can not let you! That is far to dangerous for a civi-”
“Civilian? Yes, but I am no ‘civilian’ you know that. Don’t worry, I will be careful. I’ll even keep you updated.”
With a defeated sigh, Umyahim nods.
“Right, you have your connections.”

“Exactly and I can’t with good will leave your partner alone with your kids.”
Sputtering Umyahim tries to defend herself, just for that defense to be drowned by Kratums laugh.
She can never get adjusted to Kratums laugh, such a hollow and cold sound, she is sure if Kratum could. They would be able to freeze rooms with their laugh.
“Alrighty, little jedi. I shall prepare for this oh so tasking Journey. Kidding, kidding, before you get angry at me.”
“This is no joking matter Kratum.”
“I know, I know. I’ll message you if I have any news for you. Till then goodbye.”
And before she can respond Kratum ends their call.
Now on her com, showing as not reachable.

Knowing it well enough, she knows what that means.
Kratum is now not answering, they will not respond to anything. Even if you contact them by other means.
They’re undercover now, as they said so themself.
She’ll never get used to that.

Stepping out of the room, she pulls herself together. No worries, Kratum can handle this.
And surely they’ll pick up some backup. Maybe even Andronikos or they’ll ask Ashara.
Settling back into her role as creche master, she does not notice the faint calling of the force.
Someone from the other side of the galaxy reaching out to her, calling for her to notice them.

Chapter Text

To say Umyahim was starting to worry, might be an understatement.
It has been several weeks since she last contacted Kratum. That day she had gotten the weird com with the coordinates.
Since then there has been silence on the line.
She attempted to get a message to them per other means, but ultimately failed.
Nothing and no one was reaching Kratum now.
Luckily of the 5 youngest 2 were able to start classes. So it was only Aovri, her and 3 kids rather than 5.
Some worries less over the day, until all the kids returned.

She has noticed though that every morning Jowkatta seemed to be more and more tired, as if he got less sleep.
It was deep in the night, she couldn't sleep, tired yes, but not enough to sleep.
The sudden disturbance in the Force woke her up right away, gone was the tiredness.
She was alert now, the waves of distress leaking out of one of the kids rooms, washing over her.

Opening the room from where it was coming from, she finally was able to figure out why Jowkatta has been so endlessly tired every morning.
She felt ashamed, it was clear he was having a vision, terrible but it seems the other kids didn't hear his distress.
The fact that both she and Aovri had not noticed his constant waking every night, such shame was terrible to feel.
But she needs to focus now, he was deep in the Force, if she hadn't already guessed vision this was her confirmation.

Kneeling down next to his bed, she shortly touched his forehead.
Warm, too warm, had he caught a cold too?
Why didn't he tell them?

Sending calming feelings through the force, she can feel him slowly return back to sleep.
Breathing out a sigh of relief, she stands up, checking if any of the other kids got disturbed.
Luckily, none got woken and seemed to be calmly asleep.
As she goes back to sleep, Umyahim decides on one thing. She’ll ask one of the masters for help tomorrow.

As such the morning comes, Umyahim getting a rather restless night of sleep.
Sending the kids to their classes and making sure the others are well, before leaving Aovri alone with it all.
It’s the least she can do.
Something is weird though, even when she and Aovri insisted Jowkatta stayed home today.
His fever from the night was gone and he said he was feeling fine.
Nonetheless, Umyahim will pick him up once his classes end and take him to the med center of the Tython temple.

Walking through the halls, moving towards the archives. She luckily thought of scheduling the meeting with the archivist responsible for visions.
Well, that’s at least how most referred to him, in reality he was just an archivist who was plagued by visions and in general foresight.
He had helped several Jedi during his years, trying to figure out what their visions meant.

Master Archivist Ulmeth was his name, as he also sat on one of the councils, was rather often sought after.
Why scheduling a meeting, rather than just approaching him out of the blue was the right move.
And spotting him in the archives was rather easy.
The miralukan, as always having some younglings, trying to creep up to him.
Umyahim would chuckle at such a sight, if she hadn’t tried it herself as a youngling and got reprimanded afterwards.

Better save them younglings the embarrassment.
So she moved towards the old master, who immediately perked up from whatever he was seeming to read.
(not part of fic. Has a voice like gandalf)

“Ah, miss Amelugo. You wanted to meet me.”
Standing up gracefully, swiftfully walking over to her, Umyahim had no choice but to look at the younglings.
Looking rather disappointed at her. That did bring a short chuckle, before she quickly stopped.
This matter she wanted to talk about, was no laughing matter.

“Yes master. One of the initiates in my clan, Jowkatta, has been having visions. In his sleep, it seems to be bad. But he refuses to talk to us about it.”
Nodding along the old master pulls a grimace.
“Why come to me? And why now?”
“I would’ve come earlier, but we only found out last night.” She answers truthfully.
The old man's face darkens shortly before turning back to her.
“How did you not notice?”
“I don't know, truly master. If we had, I'd have come earlier.”

Together they walk to the creche, where the clan home was situated.
On the way Umyahim explains what she had discovered last night.
“It was good to guide him out of it.”
Sighing, Umyahim is glad she had atleast done something right.
Finally as they arrive at the clan home, she sees Jowkatta waiting before it.
As if he had known she’d bring Master Ulmeth.

Before she can even say anything, master Ulmeth is already standing before Jowkatte, looking down at him.
Jowkatta is doing the same, but leveling a stare at the old man.
As if both are seizing the other up and down.
“Very well, we’ll try to unravel what the force has been trying to tell you.”
Relief floods Umyahim, glad that the old man, even in all his business, wants to help them.

Giving them both a room to talk in, without any interruption of herself or any of the other kids, she settles next to Aovri.
Time passes and more passes.
The kids return all from their classes, the table is prepared and dinner is made.
Homework is done and younger kids are brought to bed.
But neither Jowkatta or Master Ulmeth have returned.
When she wants to check up on them she pauses at the door, both the old Master and Jowkatta in deep meditation.
Quietly she leaves some food next to the door in the room.

It is midnight by now, Aovri has gone to bed, only Umyahim is still awake, sitting patiently in the common room.
Her eyes glued to the door, but fighting sleep. Finally the door opens and Master Ulmeth steps out.
“He has fallen asleep, but we were able to decipher it.”
As Umyahim motions to stand up, the old master motions her to stop.
“Please, no need. I’ll sit down with you.”
Nodding she motions to the seat next to her.

“What was the vision?”
As he looks at her, but not at her, his mask covering where his eyes would be. As it is with all Miralukans.
“You. Or at least someone who looks like you.”
She’s sure she must look bewildered as the old master continues.
“I believe he might’ve seen a different life you could’ve let. From what I could see when he showed me. You were injured, someone or something above you. Holding you down, with the force no questions asked there.”

Feeling her heart drop into her stomach, she pales.
Jowkatta didn’t see her, no, but he definitely saw Kratum.
It would make sense, after all they were searching to find out who sent the coordinates.
“I….Thank you, master Ulmeth”
Nodding, the older man stood up.
“Let me accompany you to your quarters master. It is late after all.”

As they both walk through the halls, the silence is surprisingly calming.
“Master, I don’t kno-”
And before she can continue to speak, the wall of the hall erupts in fire.
Glass shards flying everywhere, as something had caused it to explode.
Smoke settles in the hallway as the alarms of the temple start blaring their nauseating tone.
“MASTER?! MASTER ULMETH!!!”
Umyahim yell’s coughing, her robes shielded her from the heaviest brunt, but the old master was closer.

There, she can see his gray hair, crawling towards him, ignoring the pain on her face and how she feels somewhat lightheaded.
The old master doesn’t react to her though.
His chest is still as he is.
She doesn’t need to look for long to see the wound on his neck.
A shard having cut there, an rather unfortunate end to the old man,
Looking out through the broken window, the smoke airing out and slowly clearing her breathing hicks.

The night sky littered with countless battleships, fighters, bombers and massive destroyers.
All bearing the mark of the sith.

Her worst nightmare came true.

The sith came back for more.

Chapter Text

Who could've ever guessed that 10 years after the sacking of Coruscant, the jedi temple would be attacked again.
This time the Sith, with all their might, ready to extinguish the Jedi once and for all.

Truly this is not how Umyahim would've thought she'd spend her evening after having Master Ulmeth speak with Jowkatta.
But here she is, running down the hallway, back to the creche.
She needs to bring her charges away from her after all.
None of them were in the order when it happened, given to them afterwards, when they were rebuilding.
Except one, Hath, he was 3 when it happened. He is the oldest and had nightmares afterwards, he still does sometimes.
Maybe those nightmares are why no one has chosen him yet.

Finally reaching the creche, completely out of breath, Umyahim snakes by other clans leaving to escape.
Where to? Umyahim can only guess.
There, there is Aovri, looking for her.
Her look darkened, taking in Umyahims ashen robes.
Before she can ask what happened, Ayy interrupts them, wiggling out of Aovris hold, reaching for Umyahim.

Neither of the two women need to speak, to know what the other wants.
It is time to evacuate, as everyone from their clan is here.
Leading the clan into a free spot, it is now to follow the other clans to the hangar.
Umyahim in the back, Ayy in her arm, while Aovri holds Yutri and marches in the front.
The younger ones from the clan holding onto Aovri and each other, while the older ones look around nervously.
No one dares to say a word and still every creche master knows their place in the line. As they get further in the hallway Umyahim can spot some Temple guards jogging up to the line of creche clans.
Standing on the side of windows, lightsaber pikes blazing, ready to defend the orders future in case needed.

It makes one wonder if Kerribev was still alive, would he be standing with them here.
No, no, don't think about him right now, Umyahim thinks to herself: the children are more important.
And so the clans one after another reach the hangar.
That's when the first explosion rocks the walls of the temple, the masters looking at each other before ushering their charges on ships.

It doesn't matter if you and another master have some issue with each other, or if you hate the other.
Everyone shares when they can.
So do Umyahim and Aovri, as they found a decently sized star ship.
As another master with their clan approach Umyabim presses Ayy in their arms.
A better signal that their welcome on Board couldn't be given.
As the master ushers their charges on the ship, Umyahim feels a stabbing pain in the Force.
She barely notices Jowkatta slipping past her, but can grab in just in time.

Wide eyes stare up at her.
"Back on the ship, it is not safe here Jowkatta."
But he shakes his head and tries to get out of her grip.
"No! No! They need my help!"
Having a little kid throw a tantrum was bad enough, but Jowkatta was older, so making sure she doesn't let go is a fight.
"Who? Who are you talking about?"
Umyahim struggles to get the words out, between trying to evade a 9 year olds hands.

A thud stops her in her tracks, it came from behind her.
Jowkatta seems to halt as well, as she slowly turns around.

4 people in hoods are standing there, a fifth thrown before Umyahims feet.
Aovri appears at the door of the ship, barely moving out of the way of something being thrown.
The smallest of the four people removing their cloak, a blonde woman.
Hatred seemed to burn in her eye's, cold and calculating.
Something seems off about her though.
As if this image of a young woman is wrong.

A quiet sound comes from the person before her and finally Umyahim recognizes who it is.
Kratum, whom she hasn't heard of anything in a long time since their last contact.
Kratum who said they'd go to Korriban, the planet of the sith.
It dawned on her, these people before her, those were Sith.
Aovri seemed to have realized as well, as she comes running out of the ship.
Scooping up Jowkatta before doing a 180 back onto the ship.

But Umyahim?
Umyahim is frozen in place, she doesn't know why.
It is as if her body doesn't wanna listen to her, as if she is deaf to Aovris yelling to get on the ship.

But she can't help it, it is as if the force is waiting for her decision.
She notices that the ship's doors close, that the other creche master pulls Aovri away from them.
How the ship starts to take off and flies out of the hangar.
Aovris cries for her to move, stuck in her brain.

As Kratum heaves a breath into their lungs Umyahim spurs into action, first things first.
Get them away from the Sith, so she does, using the force to pull them to her.
Okay, second step, check their wounds.

It is not good, Kratum seems bloodied and beaten.
Blood seemingly dried to their clothes, some of their horns broken.
Even though Umyahim knows that Kratum always took a big bride in how big their horns had grown.
They cared for them well and often.
Their clothes are tattered in some places and their normally sturdy boots seem to have been switched with thin cloth like slippers.

Their paler than normal as well, all in all this is not a good look for them.
Looking back up at the Sith, her eyes are drawn to the person right behind the woman.
Yellow eyes seemed to bore into her from behind the shadow and darkness of their hood.
To the left is a giant bulky figure and to the right a somewhat taller, leaner figure.

Her attention is pulled back down to Kratum, as they grab Umyahims hand.
In that moment Umyahim felt something confirm she always thought would be.
Kratum reaches out in the Force to her, she reaches back.

She was right, she always thought something was off about Kratum, that they knew so much about the force.
With how they always seemed to know how she was feeling.
This, this was the answer why.
Kratum was Force sensitive, trained even.
Very well trained, that raises the question who trained Kratum of course.
A pleading loom makes her pull them up.
"Thank you."
It was so quiet she almost missed it.

Both of them standing side by side seems to irk the woman.
"You!" Is all she says while pointing at them.
"You were supposed to be mine! MINE! Instead you sent me a fake!"
It's all very confusing rambling to Umyahim, but she can feel Kratum tense next to her.
"You were supposed to be a Sith, not some loussy, lighty Jedi." The woman spats the word jedi almost.
It is weird, all Umyahim has ever known were the jedi, why should she be sith.
"I never was a Sith." She shoots back, which seems to anger the woman.

"Zash." Kratum speaks.
"Her name is Darth Zash."

Ah, Zash, that is the woman's name.
Kratums words seem to infuriate her just more.
"I planned everything! But not only were you not there anymore when we enslaved them. No, no what did I hear when we attacked Coruscant? A red Zabrak is a jedi.
She defeated one of our sith."

That is true, Umyahim was still ashamed to this day of her blatant use of the dark side.
But why would that bother her?
And enslavement?
What is this woman talking about?

Next to Zash, the person right behind her grabs her shoulder.
She stops shortly before continuing to ramble.
As the man removes his cloak, he speaks up.
"That is enough Zash."

Umyahim feels cold air go through the entire hangar.
She has a very bad feeling about this man.
"Who are you to command me around Vitiate?!"
The woman slashes out, her words oozing with hatred for the man, Vitiate.
But Umyahims attention is pulled elsewhere.
To Kratum, who is holding onto Umyahim for dear life.
Fear and terror etched into their face, their eyes frantically going between Vitiate and Zash.

Kratum knew them both somehow.
Looking back at the two sith, chills get sent down her spine.
Vitiate staring right into her eye’s before giving Kratum a quick look.
“When did you acquire a twin?”
“A twin?!” comes from Zash, ruffled by Vitiates comment. “That’s not her twin. It’s a fake, a clone!”
Taking a step towards them both, Zash gets in Vitiate's way.
“Hey we’re not done here!”

Umyahim can’t even react fast enough before Zashs body hits the ground.
The man standing with a raised fist.
With a short hand motion the figures next to him remove their cloaks.
On his left, mirroring Kratum, a wall of flesh.
The creature having a blank stare, his eyes locked onto Kratum themself.
Maybe a short glimmer of recognition, that quickly diminishes itself.

But the figure on the right causes Umyahim to freeze.

He. Kerribev. Her long lost master, believed by everyone to be dead.
Standing with the sith.
Standing on their side?
No, that couldn’t be right!
He would never leave his family, especially not to be with the sith.

“MASTER!” Umyahim yells. She wants to go to him, but Kratum stops her.
Hold her in place, with maybe a bit of force assisted help behind it.
“It’s not them.” Kratom whispers.
Bewildered, she looks back at them.
“They're not themself. It’s not their mind that you’re talking to.”

Kratums words really started making less and less sense to Umyahim.
What did they mean with that?
But looking back at the creature and Kerribev it dawned on her.
There was no recognition in his eyes, as if he didn’t know it was her.

Kratom’s death grip on her arm was starting to hurt as Vitiate spoke again.
“No, you're not her twin.” eye narrowing at Kratum.

“You are her.”
Are his last words before Kratum slashes out, with a lightsaber!
Where did they get one?
But Umyahim is frozen, staring at Kratums lightsaber.
A blazing red, the same rich color as Kratum’s eyes.
Before they can strike, another lightsaber blocks her.

Kerribev’s yellow, as striking as ever, blocking the red, bathing him in its light.
The creature grabs Kratum and throws them back.
Crashing against Umyahim is all they can do.
Snarling at Vitiate, before standing up to prepare another attack.
“What…” comes weakly from Umyahim causing them to turn around.
Shock and betrayal on her face as she stares right at Kratum.

“You……You were a sith?” she asks them.
Sighing, Kratum gives a short apologetic look before turning towards their foes.

They beat Valkorian, or Vitiate or whatever he may call himself now before, they can beat him again.
Afterall they were wiser now, then when they beat him before.
But of course, Khem and Kerribev under his control was a trouble they hadn’t planned in.
Even though they swore to never use the dark side again, so they can live undiscovered.
But this is a dire situation.

A flash of purple lighting out of nowhere suddenly rains down on Vitiate.
But it doesn’t seem to do anything, as he just swats it away as if it were an annoying fly.
Looking at Kratum, Umyahim can see that their hand is smoking, a painful expression on their face.
And in a swift move Kratum disappears.
It is as if they left an empty void where they were standing.
But just as quickly as they disappeared, they appeared again behind Vitiate, ready to strike.
“WATCH OUT!” is all Umyahim can yell, before having to watch Kratum get thrown back, by the creature's weapon.
All the focus is on them, even Vitiates, whom doesn’t pay any attention to what Umyahim is doing.

Should she help them? After all, they broke her trust.
She even had let them in the temple, god what if they secretly had worked with the sith all this time.
But, weren’t they fighting them now?
That would indicate they're not on the sith’s side, right?

Torn Umyahim stood up, from where they were still laying.
If Kratum truly is fighting them and didn’t work with them, then helping them wouldn’t be wrong.

As Kerribev swings his saber to hit Kratum, he is stopped.
Umyahim ducking low, holding his saber in place with the forse.
A determined expression on her face.

“Well, this just got interesting”

Chapter Text

Did Umyahim ever expect to fight in a battle of death against her master, the person she saw as her father?
No, no truly she never would’ve thought about it.
He was the man who never had seen anything dark or only her race as a dathomir zabrak.
He only ever saw her as a curious and knowledge hungry child.
Kerribev never judged her.

But this wasn’t the Kerribev she knew.
He would never push someone down like this.

Struggling to hold his lightsaber with the force, while he pushes it down and closer to her face.
She can’t lie when she says she is terrified.
A situation like this, is something she’s unprepared for.
Sure the two had spared during her padawan days. But this is nothing like their Spars.

Moving her hand to the right, redirecting the lightsaber, she quickly rolls away.
A burn mark where she had just been.
As she looks to Kratum, she just can’t take her eyes of them for a moment.

They are evading any attack of the beats, slipping from side to side, disappearing for moments and appearing elsewhere the next.
Dancing seemingly around the beast.
But she can’t watch for long, before Keribevs pike slashes towards herself again.
Stepping back and bringing up her lightsaber.

She changed it after losing her arm, from a double bladed to a single bladed one, but with a longer blade.
More akin to a longsword.

And so the lightsaber dance begins.
She doesn’t even dare to look over to Kratum, the dancing tornado of a lightsaber.
Focusing on her own fight is already enough. Kerribevs fighting is ruthless, she has seen him once, only once like this.
Early into her padawanship, when they were on a mission.
A rogue sith, that rambled about a still existing empire, how ironic looking at it after the sacking of coruscant.
He threatened her life and Kerribev wouldn’t have it.

He had fought the sith, an imposing display of skill, height and prowess.
It made Umyahim awe-stricken for quite some weeks.
So much she searched up for temple guard duels, where he participated.
She remembers how embarrassed Kerribev was when he found out.
But not ashamed embarrassment, more a mixture between proudness and embarrassment.
That day she vowed to him she’d be able to fight like that one day, she’ll become as big as he is and make him proud.

She still remembers what he said to her after that
“You already make me proud.”

She can’t imagine the Kerribev before her now saying those gentle and kind words.
Or him acting fatherly at all.
The Sith had done something, that is clear.

His fighting style has not changed much, but she still shrinks into herself.
She has not been able to fulfill the vow she gave.
She neither became as good as he, nor as big.

Ridiculous as these thoughts are, it’s true.
Gosh if what Vitiate says is true and Kratum is her, she feels like she didn’t fulfill the vow more.
Kratum at least seems to be able to reach Kerribevs shoulders, if they stood next to each other.
Even Kratum’s fighting is closer to what Umyahim had hoped all those years ago, she would accomplish.

Get yourself together, this is not the moment for self pity.
Giving herself a mental slap, she focused back on Kerribev, whom is not moving?
Just holding his lightsaber in front of him, as if he’s waiting for her to attack.
Just like he does in their spars when he notices she gets distracted.

Maybe, just maybe, a bit of Kerribev is still in this possessed mind.
If she manages, maybe she can try to bring him back.
As she looks at him, she feels determination rising in her.
Yes she can do this, after all, who but her, his practical daughter, can bring him back.

She knows him the best from anyone in the temple, sure his master still lives, but it seems more like the two are rather estranged.

Moving forward she attacks, her attack being swiftly blocked by him, before he does an attack on his own.
She feels how she’s falling into the rhythm their spars always had.
The rhythm she so dearly missed these 10 years.

Kratom to her side is still dancing around the beast, whom does not seem to tire, but she couldn’t care less right now.
Kratom knows what they're doing, that much she can see.
Her focus is now on getting Kerribev back and their spar rhythm will certainly help.
Absently she notices temple guards fighting away invading Siths at the entrance to the hangar, but no one dares to get close to their group.

Everyone is more focused on their own battles, but she doesn’t mind truly.

Kratum is struggling. They’re sure Vitiate can see it, can hear it.
How their wounds are getting to them, their energy diminishing, her fighting spirit dying.
Using all those force powers after all of these years of not using them, it’s exhausting.
And dangerous. Very dangerous, if Vitiate decides to insert himself into the battle.

But he stays where he is, not moving a finger. Glancing over Kratum is surprised to see Umyahim’s fight look so casual.
Like a spar, maybe Vitiate's control isn’t as strong as they thought?

The sudden change from second to another, as Kerribev suddenly changes his whole fighting.
Gone is their friendly spar and suddenly a vicious beast stands before Umyahim.
As if someone turned a switch on him.
A chuckle pulls her attention, Vitiate boring a stare right into her, a challenging look on his face.

This had all been a trick, an elaborate plan to make her trusting towards Kerribev.
As she evades his attacks, his roars are deafening.
She truly fears for her life.
Force, she should’ve not let her guard down.

This causes Umyahim to make a costly mistake.
While she tries to gather her wits, Kerribev is able to grab her arm.
The brute force used to do it causes Umyahim to cry out in pain, as she drops her lightsaber.

The indigo blades switching off, as it hits the ground.
He is still under the siths control, Umyahim does not want to blame him.
But she is so fear filled at this moment, because this might as well just be her worst nightmare.

She may have only one arm left, but she kicks and tries to bite as best as she can.
Ignoring the developing pain in her arm.
But she can’t ignore it much longer as it blossoms to unimaginable levels.
Crying out, she can’t stop tears flooding down her face.

“UMYAHIM!” Kratum yells, wanting to run over to her.
They can’t abandon her, but Khem still blocks their way.
All they can do is watch helplessly as Kerribev drags the sobbing Umyahim over to Vitiate.
Some of the temple guards try to rush over, but it seems like they’re stopped by an invisible wall.

Helpless are all of them, as they and Kratum have to watch as Vitiate lays his hands on her head.
A piercing scream fills the hangar, Umyahim staring wide eyed at the ceiling, tears streaming down her face.
Kratum knows exactly what Vitiate is doing.

They had done it themself many times during their days.
Can they ever forgive themself for it?
Probably not.
Seemingly Khem has stopped his attacks though. As soon as Vitiate had gotten his hands on Umyahim.
He’s looking through her mind, but not by invitation, forcefully entering it.
Kratum knew the outcomes, weaker people had died from this, but even stronger people had been sent to med centers. Some still died later on.

It seems like hours, till Umyahim seems to subside. Her voice giving out, this was the most it had been used for in a while.
And she can see it all, her memories flashing before her eyes. The sith, Vitiate, brushes through them as if they are just a picture book.
As if she is just a picture book.

He seems to halt the memory before her eyes. Something she had forgotten herself, but it was still buried in her mind.
A masked figure creeping up the stairs to the temple, Umyahim as a baby, bundled in their arms.
Seemingly asleep, but waking up once she is placed down.
Far enough the guards won’t see who placed this child on their stairs, but close enough that the next patrol would find her.

As the figure turns away something pulls their mask away. They catch it, but Umyahim recognizes the face staring at her.
Kratum looked remorseful at her, before pulling the mask back to them with the force.
They turn around, walking away as Umyahim can herself, her baby self wail at the ignorance of them.

The cries of the baby cause her to be found quickly by guards, one a wookie.

She can still hear the cries echo in her mind as she slumps to the ground.
Vitiate seems satisfied with what he found, but Umyahim can’t bring herself to move anything.
She can feel her face is wet, she can feel every ache in her body and how much her throat hurts.

All she can do is look helpless at Kerribev, who never mentioned he had found her as a baby.
She knew she had been found on the temple's stairs, but by whom she never knew.
But did he know back then already he’d take her as his padawan?

Kratum wants to rush towards Umyahim’s limp body, they can’t see if she's still breathing or if she’s here at all.
“You brought her here……” Vitiate speaks, Khem moving to his side, on command of him.
“You knew what was in the future for her. Am I right?”

It seems he tries to call Kerribev to his side too, but the wookie is rooted where he is standing, his face turned towards Umyahim.
That doesn’t seem to deter Vitiate though, as he steps closer towards Umyahim again.
Kratum can’t help themself, as they flare up, their lightsaber ready to attack.

As Vitiate seems to try and step on Umyahims throat he is pushed away.

It was neither Kratum, nor Umyahim, nor one of the temple guards as they had not been able to get in.
But as soon as Vitiate was pushed, the invisible wall seemed to fall.
As Kratum looks around, their eyes land on Kerribev.

Kerribev who seemed enraged, Kerribev who looked so mad that Kratum didn’t wanna talk to him.
Kerribev who now roared as he stormed towards Vitiate, his lightsaber pike blazing.
Everyone seemed shocked for a moment, before the temple guards ran after him towards Vitiate,
They didn’t yell, they didn’t roar as Kerribev.
But they seemed angry nonetheless.
Khem didn’t move, but Kratum didn’t mind now.

Running to Umyahim, they crash on their Knees.

It doesn’t seem to take long before Kerribev returns, the temple guards in tow.
The control is broken, Kratum can see it, they can feel it.
That Vitiate is gone as well, that they can feel as well.

Cradling Umyahim in their lap, who seems to have lost consciousness.
While Kerribev gives her a remorseful look.
As if he knew what he had done under control.

Weeks pass before Umyahim wakes in the med center.
When they bring Kerribev in she panics, not realizing he is not under control anymore.
Any contact with her creche clan cut, her contact with Kratum as they are interrogated cut.

Once they declare her physically well, she is ordered to take Therapy.
They tell her she is lucky to have survived.
But she doesn’t count herself lucky, not only can her mind not be in the same place as her father. Out of fear what had happened to her.

Months pass, as it happens 2 years pass before she is declared mentally well.
Before she can reunite with her family though, the council wishes to talk to her.
So she goes and she talks with them.
They ask her many questions and she gives many answers, but finally they let her go.

When she returns to her clan quarters, Aovri stands before the door.
Waiting for her, her eyes lighting up as she sees Umyahim.
But she can’t wait long enough for Umyahim to get closer.
As she runs towards her, wrapping her arms around her, as they both just stand there.
Leaning into each other, just breathing the air of the other in.

As some clears their throat behind them, they separate themself.
Kerribev, who had to go to lengthy therapy himself.
Still his recovery after the control took a shorter time than Umyahims recovery.

She could cry, not out of fear as before, but out of joy.
Joy ,that she has her father back the way he was.
And she does, the tears falling down silently.
Kerribev came towards her, anxious, fearing she still feared him.
But as she just hugs into his fur, he knew she didn’t fear him anymore, her mind didn’t fear him anymore.

Slowly they both lead her into the clan chambers, where everyone is waiting.
Her friends, her family.
Even some of the kids like Hath who has become a padawan in the time she was out.

A sight that surprises her is Andronikos, wearing a ring, holding hands with Kratum.
Kratum who goes red as they notice she saw the rings.
The beast, whom Umyahim learns is called Khem Val, she meets as well. As terrifying as he may look and act, he is a rather nice guy.

Ashara is there as well, she introduces her padawan, a young togruta who is rather shy.
They all sit down at the table, as the men bring out the food from the kitchen?
The surprise that the kitchenette has developed into a full kitchen that is much bigger than before would knock Umyahim outta her socks.
If she had not requested a bigger kitchen for years.

But as everyone sits there, Kerribev to her left, Aovri to her right, Umyahim knows she is safe now.

Everyone is safe now, safe and at home.