Post by Reisier on Dec 2, 2012 21:51:24 GMT -5
Name: Kanika Shoshan
Race: Zabrak
Age: 21
Height: 5’5’’
Weight: 135
Appearance: There is something about the Zabrak that makes her oddly striking. Perhaps it is the way she glances to the side whenever a thought clouds her mind, or the way she moves with remarkable grace. Others boast that it is the way her lips sport an eternal smile, as if she knows something others don’t; or maybe it’s even the way she crosses her arms over her chest as she talks, head tilted sideways, brow furrowed in thought. Though, no matter the reasons, no matter who you ask, if a single trait about Kanika Shoshan could be described as unmistakable, none could deny that this would be her eyes. Kanika’s eyes study the world with unusual determination; a penetrating gaze that often stares off into the distance, their attention flicking back whenever someone comes near. In color they are gray, unusually light, lined by a thick, saturated black ring. Defined eyebrows and thick black eyelashes frame her eyes, emphasizing the impossible lightness of her irises. A trait that keeps many at bay, Kanika’s eyes are unusual, wild and fierce, capturing the memory of all she meets.
If one is capable to look past this quality, they would notice the Zabrak’s porcelain skin. Smooth stretches of skin, clear and untouched, greet the eye – cold, unyielding, tempting to touch. For the most part, the skin shows no blemishes, save for a mole under her right eye, and a dark shade of gray that now stretches around her eyes – a trait gained from many nights spent awake, the woman admits without missing a beat, spent checking on Jedi and Jedi initiates alike on the hospital wing of the Temple. Her lips are slightly full and by no means an after-thought to the rest of her persona. On the parting of her lips a deep berry tone can be observed – extending towards the rim of her lips were the color diffuses into a lighter shade of gray – giving her an eternally ‘bitten’ look. The woman’s soft, oval face and classic, angular nose increase the distinction the rest of her character portrays.
Kanika’s hair is lustrous – a rich black color that frames the lightness of her face. When compared to the rest of the Zabrak, her medium-length hair seems to be the most normal of her features, pulled to her left where it sits silently. From time to time, the dark hair is pulled back into a high ponytail and out of the Zabrak’s face – that is, if the woman hasn’t appeased it into a fishtail braid. While the Zabrak sports no tattoos on her face, like other counterparts, the woman’s heritage is clear – six horns crowning her head. The first initial five horns start on the uppermost part of her forehead, fanning outwards and to the back of her head. The sixth horn, though much smaller, sits on the middle of her forehead – a dainty little thing. In color the horns are nothing extraordinary to tell the truth, no more than a creamy tone turning into a sandy-brown as they curve upwards.
It is rare to see the woman outside her Jedi regalia – those rare occasions coming as shocking to her peers. While she no longer wears the traditional garbs she had gained as a young padawan, the traditional feel and analogous tones of crème and brown remain. Kamika sports a tan pair of harem pants that fold heavily as she stands still. A loose blouse of a soft consistency and of a crème shade cover her torso, fluttering down to her upper thighs, providing the padawan with both comfort and mobility. Kanika sports, regardless of place, a sand colored asymmetrical overtunic with a high neckline and made of a sturdier fabric. The fabric is cinched together at her waist by a wide, bitter-chocolate leather obi belt. Modified holsters sit on her left and right thighs, securing her lightsabers in place. Soft leather boots and fingerless gloves cover her extremities, the only part of her ensemble that have seen the passing of the years. A black overtunic with wide bat sleeves is sported by the padawan as well, brushing a little over her hips while growing significantly longer on the back. A tattered brown robe is sported whenever the Padawan is sent off world, but it generally lays forgotten in her room.
Personality: If appearances alone determined the worth of a character, it is most likely that Kanika would be seen with weariness and distrust. Perhaps it’s the coolness with which she carries herself or the almost untamed expression in her eyes, but upon seeing Kanika Shoshan for the first time, you wouldn’t expect the amicable persona inside.
Yet, while her friendliness is something that cannot be denied, the Zabrak holds a strongly adamant persona, one that is unafraid to make its presence known. It is incredibly difficult for people to change Kanika Shoshan’s mind, especially when it has been set. While calmness has never been a part of her persona, the Zabrak prone to saying jokes and laughing as easily as the next person, Kanika does carry herself with a certain grace. Each movement the Padawan makes is fluid and refined – each step taken with great care. Her movements are minimal, giving the appearance of floating at times – the lack of noise behind her movements further encouraging the belief. Kanika is a curious soul, one that enjoys learning as much as she possibly can – from history, literature, and music, there is little the Zabrak won’t enjoy reading about.
The Zabrak always attempts to bring a friendly hand regardless of the situation – she likes people, she likes meeting people, and most of all she loves learning about them. It was a trait that Shal Umkur fostered over the years, encouraging the padawan to never let go of this trait – to love and respect all. Her kindness, however, should not be confused for an inability to tell the truth. I suppose the best definition for Kanika’s demeanor would be candidly honest. No matter how much Kanika cares for someone, the Zabrak will always say what’s on her mind – her statements will never be sugarcoated, nor will they drip with ‘little-white-lies.’ What you see is what you get.
Kanika is a perfectionist; of that there is no doubt. Every action she takes, every movement she is makes, is carefully weighed and considered. Everything must come out as the young Padawan intended – nothing short of perfection. Of course, this may seem rather ridiculous – perhaps even unrealistic – but considering the two Jedi Masters she has had as mentors, her relentlessness is understood. Yet, the Zabrak does not complain of the hard work that was forced upon her, explaining that it has only furthered her knowledge and skills – both of which she wholeheartedly appreciates. Her acquired abilities, however, have made the twenty year old confident. Kanika holds little doubt of her capabilities and, as such, openly welcomes new challenges posed by her master. However, it should be noted that the woman is well aware of the limits of her abilities, knowing well enough when – and if – she is in and over her head.
Birth place: Wortan, Iridonia
Faction: Jedi
Rank: Padawan
Lightsaber: Dual Single Phase Lightsabers
Color: Pale powder blue
Practiced Lightsaber forms:
Force-Sensitive Abilities or practices:
Telepathic: 2
Body: 2
Sense: 4
Protection: 3
Healing: 5
Destruction: 0
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Specialized Skills:
Attributes:
Intelligence: 5
Speed: 6
Leadership: 4
Unarmed: 4
Melee Weapons: 2
Ranged Weapons: 0[/ul]
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Wortan, Iridonia, is a sad, little place. The city that once bustled with life within the canyon’s embrace, now sits in silence – a mere shell of what it used to be. The tall, ferroconcrete buildings that stretched over several blocks, now sat in peace; bodies broken, odd, sharp angles sticking out like sharp little teeth, ready to snap at whatever wandered close. The bustling streets had grown cold, and now simply lay forgetting, forgotten, at what they had seen long ago. The peace Wortan once had been known for had ceased, replaced by clamoring of gangs and bandits that took to the streets. The soft breeze that does manage to enter the ailing place disturbed the dust from its sleep, rising it up into the air, engaging in silly pirouettes as they teased and pulled at the moth-eaten puce curtains in the broken windows that remain.
But within the violence, within the chaos, within the winding labyrinth of collapsed tunnels and destroyed stores, goodness stayed. People tried to lead good lives as best as they could, to recover the greatness the city had held many years ago; and even if with each step taken forward, three were taken back, many still had hope. There was no evil that lasted for a hundred years, things simply had to get better again.
Thiedil Shoshan was one of these hopeful that blinded herself to the dangers of the world. Even years after her parents had passed and friends had left to Capital City waiting to start anew, the young Zabrak remained in the place she had always called home. In a crooked little street that stretched to the Northern part of Wortan, sat the young Zabrak’s home, an asylum to the world that surrounded her. In appearance the house was not much to take in, a small brick building that had moved over the years. The way it slouched to the right reminded her of Thiedil of an old woman, with her sad little windows staring down at the street with strangely clear eyes. The sun had ate the bright red color its walls had once held, revealing instead a sun bleached pink tone. It creaked during the night, the Zabrak would say, groaning and moaning as the air buffeted its thinning walls. But it kept her warm during the cold and dry during rain, everything else were details easily ignored.
Life was normal for the young female, as normal as the Force would allow. Thiedil owned a tiny general store in the southern part of town, nothing luxurious, nothing that could make the Zabrak rich, but something that provided her with what she needed to live. Thiedil didn’t ask for anything, nor did she take for anyone else, all the young Zabrak wished for is to survive.
Wortan, Iridonia was not a good place; it made sure to prove it again and again.
When petty thieves were nothing more than a nuisance Wortan had to endure, the swoop gang known as J-44 could bring grown men to their knees. They were ruthless, sadistic, looking for the slightest reason to kill. Generally they kept themselves in the underground, rising only when chaos and destruction called to them. Thiedil had been working late one afternoon when they came in – an array of males that made the city cringe. The Zabrak tried her very best to disappear – concealing herself in the shadows of the backroom.
Thiedil could hear containers shattering, the roaring of laughter; she could hear their cursing and screeching ringing through the store. Part of her thought about running, but she was frozen – her legs wouldn’t respond. She was afraid, simply terrified at what they might do. What came next made the Zabrak’s blood run cold and for a second the woman swore that her heart stopped. At first the sound was unrecognizable, nothing but the sound of shifting. But it grew stronger, louder with each passing second, until it was finally impossible for Thiedil to ignore it. She turned, though part of her begged for her body to remain still, and it was then that she saw it – a single figure, broad-shouldered and tall, a male that that second made her blood run cold. The male Zabrak was terrifying to Thiedil – with dark, charcoal skin, white facial tattoos breaking through his skin, and a knowing grin; yet what struck her the most were his eyes – feral, uncouth, amber eyes. She tried screaming, but before she knew it his hand was on her lips, stifling the possibility of any sound. Part of her begged for death fearing all other possibilities, but neither would come. All Thiedil felt that moment was the male’s breath against her ear telling her to be silent, to be still – he removed his hand from her lips, telling her to stay – it simply wasn’t safe. He pulled away from her and before Thiedil knew it, he was out the door and she was alone once more.
Hours came and went – the sound that once echoed through the store dwindled into nothingness. The Zabrak must have drifted into sleep as the minutes turned to hours, not once hearing as the door creaked open again. She felt herself shaken, eyes snapped open – cold gray meeting bright amber. The male told her to get up, and so Thiedil obeyed, afraid of what could happen if she didn’t follow through. He told her to follow and she did without objection, throat tight and dry. When part of Thiedil screamed for the Zabrak to run, the other was surprised as how the man led her through the half destroyed – though thankfully empty – store.
He apologized, if only in his actions, for the destruction of the store, instructing the female to stay away from the city if she knew “what’s good for you.” A war was coming to Wortan, the male explained – territories were being disputed, blood was going to be shed – tonight would be the first of a series of break-ins to bring chaos and destruction around the already broken city. But she didn’t have the credits, no means to escape, and regardless of the warnings, the woman remained. As violent outbursts became more frequent through Wortan and the world Thiedil knew threatened to spiral out of control, a strange friendship between the female and his savior began to form. Over time, Thiedil learned that the man’s name was Gulrilhrae, a scout to the J-44. That day on the general store, he was there to observe – to help silence anyone that could readily identify them and keep an eye out in case trouble rose. The meetings that once were reserved to a monthly venture for Gulrilhrae to convince Thiedil to leave, soon became a daily occurrence between the two. A strange friendship soon formed, one that provided them with haven from the surrounding world.
The once unwanted feelings grew stronger with the passing of each year, and by the age of twenty-eight, Thiedil soon recognized the unwanted feelings as those of love. At first, the woman was unsure to make of them – she thought about burying more than one, to forget their existence. Still, she could not bring herself to do it, that is, forget everything she felt. Yet, even as the woman explained everything she felt, she never expected the male’s response. Without hesitation, without any doubt, Gulrilhrae took her first kiss. That night, they engaged in the ritual of Tai’Shan, two bodies becoming one. They mated, bonded for life, and so, their official union begun.
Life with Gulrilhrae was not exactly what the female had envisioned. Where Thiedil expected violent outbursts and a coarse demeanor, she found surprising gentleness. He was a kind man, if a little rough around the edges, but it didn’t particularly bother Thiedil. He hummed when he worked on his swoop bike and crinkled his nose when he thought –characteristics that she came to love. It must have been close to two years since Thiedil had been with Gulrilhrae that the woman began to feel ill. Her body felt – different, queasy, and tired all the time. After visiting a mid-wife in Wortan, they learned that Thiedil was expecting. Motherhood fit Thiedil well, who looked on it like a gift from the maker. While Gulrilhrae looked upon his new role as a new father nervously, it didn’t prevent the Zabrak from trying – and at night opted to try and lull the baby to sleep. Thiedil could see how Gulrilhrae tried his very best to start anew, to leave the life he had behind, but it would eventually prove impossible for the male.
It was two months after their child’s birth that they came. It was early one evening that the humming of the swoop bike broke through the young couple’s home. It didn’t take long for a knock to follow – a booming sound that threatened to topple the small house over. Thiedil watched as Gulrilhrae reached for the door, half-dressed and looking completely confused. From the crack on the door, the female saw a male. In girth and height he was much taller than Gulrilhrae, with deep rust-colored skin and a deep drumming voice. Jurikk, she could hear him being called, greeting Gulrilhrae like a long-lost brother of sorts. They talked for a few minutes amid hushed voices, before the conversation took a much darker turn. The territory war they had been anticipating had arrived at full-force. Many members had been lost in the process and they needed their members once more. This, life, that Gulrilhrae had chosen, that playing house, needed to stop. He was given a simple option – get rid of the distractions or they’d do it for him.
Thiedil remembers the horror that momentarily crossed Gulrilhrae’s face, how he pealed from the door and his eyes looked for hers. No words were spoken, no last messages exchanged, the male simply crossed the room, grabbed the ignition key for his swoop bike, and left their home.
It was not long after that Thiedil made up her mind; with the newborn in arms and spare credits in her pocket, the female left for Capital City. Life was difficult for the woman and the newborn; at times the young mother barely had enough to feed the child. They suffered from homelessness for many a months, until finally a well-to-do couple took pity on the mother and child, opening their home for the two. Thiedil soon began to work as a maid in the couple’s household, a small price to pay for a roof and food. But the Force was not done with the challenges it would bring to Thiedil. As the child reached its eighth month of life, a curious sight visited the house one day. The male Falleen identified himself as Danush, a recruiter of the Jedi Order. He explained to the young mother that he been guided to the home by the Force, and sought to take the child to the Order.
While the mother hoped to keep the child of the man she had loved and lost, the woman knew that there was only so much she could give her – the temple, the Jedi could save her sweet babe. The child, no more than eight months of age, was brought to the Temple, where she would be raised and instructed in the ways of the Force; thus began the life of Kanika Shoshan.
The trip to the Jedi Temple on was uneventful for the Falleen Jedi and his young companion spent in hours of constant silence. Every once in a while, the silence would be shattered, the nonsensical babbling of the child followed by silly fits of giggle echoing through the corvette. And even when the baby would break out crying for the lack of her mother’s presence, Kanika was quickly appeased and left smiling once more. In fact, early on the crew and Jedi learned that the best possible approach for settling the child would be the introduction of a mirror. Kanika would pat at the mirror’s surface with open hands, eyes impossibly wide with wonder, and lips silently open – far too excited to actually squeal. For hours without end, the child sat entertained in front of the flat stranger that mimicked her every move; all the while, Danush couldn’t help but watch the child’s display with amusement, waiting until the Zabrak tired herself and drifted into a light sleep of sorts.
For two days, the routine was settled between recruiter and child – the monotony disrupted upon their arrival to the Coruscant Temple, Kanika’s new home.
None could deny that Kanika Shoshan was a curious child. She was incredibly pale, white in fact, as if she had been carved from a slate of ice and with eyes so unusual that it made most double-back for a better look. Nevertheless, Kanika was healthy, quiet and gentle, just another happy Youngling that had been brought to the Temple’s care. Unlike other younglings of the same age, the Zabrak slept soundly through the night and rarely cried; that is, if one didn’t count those moments when she needed to have her diaper changed, she felt stressed, or was simply hungry – which proved to be fairly often to the surprise of many. Kanika had an unrivaled appetite as a baby, eating all that was placed in front of her without hesitation. Even when facing an inedible object, the girl would chew on it relentlessly for hours, as if convinced that her small, weak teeth would somehow manage to break it down. Kanika was a child content with the new world that surrounded her, even if she wasn’t aware of it yet.
The years came kindly to the Zabrak child and the handlers in charge of her well-being. The sweet personality that she had exhibited throughout her early childhood never wavered, even as she entered the so called ‘terrible-twos.’ She was incredibly patient for someone her age, sitting quietly as the lessons took place. Perhaps she was fascinated at what the instructors said, of the worlds they talked about and which she couldn’t come close to imagining. Kanika wanted to learn, she needed to learn more of these places – which often made her seem a little high-spirited. But then again, at the shy age of two, energy seemed to have an infinite source in most children – and Kanika was no different. She was bright and eager, jumping from place to place, running and yelling if left to her own devices. While the childish antics would take many years to desist and be replaced by order and attention, it was at the age of three that the true lessons began. The instructors had previously spoken of planets and feats that captivated the eager minds of children, but the Jedi teachings soon replaced the stories, dictating the cadence of the Jedi life.
The lessons were difficult to understand and often left the three year old with more questions rather than answers. ‘Why?’ soon became part of Kanika’s word repertoire, spoken constantly amid lessons, arms waving wildly over her head – there was just so much to learn. Yet, it was difficult for her to retain everything during the lessons. Kanika gave all of her undivided attention to the instructors, but it wasn’t enough; once out of the classroom, everything seemed to slip her mind. It was frustrating for the young Zabrak, but she wasn’t disheartened by it; if anything, the girl seemed convinced to fix the problem she had. Kanika submerged herself in studying often, if merely because she wanted to do her best, spending hours reading over material their instructors had covered. Kanika was not, by any means, gifted – the lessons she learned and recognition she obtained being the sole result of constant hard work.
Yet, while her knowledge came from hours of constant studying and practice, whatever abilities she had with a saber came naturally to the girl.
The first time a training saber was secured within her hands, Kanika had felt at ease. In those short seconds, something seemed to change within the Zabrak, it made her stand taller, shoulders back, head held high – as if everything was right in the Galaxy for once. The weight of the training saber against her white hands, felt like an extension of her body – like a missing limb that had been suddenly reattached. Every action, every thrust, every parry and step, seemed to be the result of reaction rather than thought. Shi-Cho seemed almost like a second nature to the girl, picking up the movements without fault. When it came time for the children to spar against each other, the Zabrak moved with unusual grace; each step was taken with careful consideration, planted firmly beneath her feet. While her skills were laughable compared to those of older initiates and padawans, they made Kanika infamous amongst her clan. In spars, Kanika was relentless, fierce, unwilling to meet defeat; coupled with her distinct appearance, it made many of her peers weary – something just seemed off.
Over time, the little friendships the Zabrak had managed to uphold over the years became stressed and started to deteriorate. She became alienated, the punch line of cruel jokes and pranks. Her handlers tried their very best to appease the unruly seven year olds, but children never understand the severity of their actions. Kanika tried her very best to change their perception of her as well, but every word, every deed went unnoticed. It was almost as if the younglings persistently tried to villanize the curious Zabrak, all because they simply failed to understand. But while maturity dwindled whatever fear children had of Kanika as years went by, one initiate in particular remained particularly hesitant to accept her.
It was in one of her daily training sessions under the watchful eyes of her supervisor’s gaze, that a single boy caught her attention. She had met him a couple of times before, taking many of the same lessons as he, but generally the two kept to themselves – that day, however, it was different. When the young Human and Zabrak had been left to their own devices, that day they were paired-up in hopes they would help one another train.
There was no friendship in the beginning between Javin and Kanika, the two finding the other beyond irritating. During spars, it was not uncommon to see the two younglings spend much of the available time making faces at each other rather than practicing. When the younglings, however, did somehow manage to engage in a friendly spar, it was impossible to gauge who would come out on top. Their approaches were very different – his relying on strength and stamina, the girl’s relying on quickness and well-placed strikes – but none could deny their capabilities; with the proper training under a skillful Master, their instructors would guess, the two could flourish. However, they were both stubborn to a fault, a potentially serious drawback, which made its presence known in more than one occasion.
It was difficult to make Kanika and Javin stop their sparring; even when successful, the instructors had to attempt to restrain them from shooting jabs and sneers at one another. They were scolded, reprimanded more than once, but it just seemed to fuel their distaste for each other further. Finally, after months of dealing with their imprudent behavior, their instructors were left with no other choice but punish the duo. Pulled aside from their clan, their sparring instructor explained that they would be staying behind every day to clean, hoping they would learn to tolerate each other at the very least.
The children begrudgingly accepted. While Kanika and Javin did their best to mask their dislike for each other when the instructors drew near, once out of earshot their snide remarks and face-making would continue. Surprisingly, as the months came and went, the once friendless child found solace in her companion, a true and lasting friendship coming from the rivalry she and Javin shared. Inside jokes and playful jabs soon became a common sight exchanged between the two. Their inability to travel without each other’s company soon becoming clear – even during Kanika’s ventures to the library, Javin was close by.
The children expected that the Jedi would keep them together, through thick and thin. Kanika and Javin spoke about fighting side by side once they grew, flying the galaxy and bringing order side-by-side. They would be friends forever, until the day they died. Years later, when talk about the Initiate Trials began to be discussed amongst their clan, Kanika and Javin saw it as the opportunity that would make their dream come true. Under the watchful eyes of their instructors, the two began to train – sometimes even twice a day.
But the Force is a fickle mistress and while the children plotted to remain at each others’ side, their fates had come into play.
It had been but a few weeks after Kanika’s twelfth birthday that the Jedi approached her one crisp morning. Kanika remembers the day well, how she recited the Jedi Code in union with the rest of her clan – process they had done every morning as far as she could remember – when the female entered the room. She spoke quickly to their Instructor, hushed responses followed, all before a single name was given, hers. The Zabrak was unsure of what was going on at first, but she could feel Javin’s eyes boring intio her, she glanced quickly at him, was met by a mouthed question – and all the Zabrak could do was shrug. She didn’t know what was going on, part of her was scared as a result, but when she was asked to stand and follow, Kanika did without hesitation.
No words were spoken in that walk, which only increased the Zabrak’s uneasiness. She was scared, inches below petrified, had she done something wrong? But no matter how much she tried, or how she twisted and turned the questions in her head, trying to find the very best way to voice them, Kanika found no comfort. Instead, the Zabrak opted to bite down on her cheeks and concentrate on the shade of her boots – which grew more interesting over time. The Zabrak was led across the winding corridors she had come to know and love, until eventually they took an unexpected turn into the Meditation Gardens.
When the Temple’s air had been cool and crisp, the garden’s air was warm and thick. In a breath, Kanika felt as the tender air rushed past her, getting caught in her chest. Kanika looked up at the Jedi, desperate to find an answer to the many questions that floated through her mind, but was met by a single phrase, ‘Go on.’ Kanika was hesitant as she took the first step, her feet sinking into the lush green grasses and the gentle earth. The sights that greeted her were outstanding, beautiful in fact. The Force was so vibrant in this place; it hummed with prowess unlike any Kanika had seen before. The buzzing of bugs greeted her the deeper the youngling traveled into the gardens, but was soon lost to the roaring laughter of a stream. She followed the noise, if only by instinct. The Zabrak must have spent close to thirty minutes snaking her way across the twisting grottoes and dense foliage, until crystal clear waters greeted her.
In the middle of the gardens, tucked away behind vivid green walls, sat a gentle pond full of colorful golden fish. But her attention was stolen, soon settling on a single figure to her left. By the pond, hunched above its sparkling waters, sat a tree. It hunched over itself, body twisting on top of a moss-ridden rock, making it seem almost as if it sat in quiet meditation at what it saw. With a renewed source of energy, the youngling sprinted forward, circling the curious discovery. Upon closer inspection, Kanika noticed the tree’s lack of proper foliage, the few leafs it had concentrated on two branches that stuck straight up at either side. It was an old tree, or so she thought, with its bark having been dried by the sun, making it peel and crumble here and there. Yet, nothing came as close as captivating Kanika’s imagination as did the curious stump that slouched forward, almost looking like a head. It had a pointed chin, a single leaf growing precariously on its end, a large piece of bark that stood out like a nose, and a prominent brow knotted in deep thought.
It was fascinating, magical in fact, and part of her wished to reach out and touch the ancient tree. The child climbed the rock, mind set on the task at hand, ignoring the gentle shaking that now disturbed her new friend. As her hands stretched out, desperate to reach at the very least the tree’s ‘chin,’ Kanika was interrupted by a rumbling voice. She froze, spun around to search for the source, but was met by nothing more than endless gardens. She turned, shaking off the sudden surprise, but was quickly replaced by fear as she was met by two enormous, inky-black eyes. The tree, the discovery she made, had sprung into life, it’s enormous frame shaking with each word it gave. Even as terror echoed through the Zabrak’s features, the tree couldn’t help but twist its thin lips into a gentle smile – it was not an uncommon reaction he received.
After a few minutes of silence and awkward apologies by the terrified girl, the creature introduced himself as Shal Umkur, a Neti Master that had called this Temple home for many, many years now. He had knighted countless of Jedi over his lifetime,, many which had lived and passed before his very eyes. He sought a student, another mind he could help prepare for the lifestyle that was the Order, and a single name had stuck out – hers. He had never met her, never seen her train or her forte, but something about that name called to him – and he knew well that Force worked in mysterious ways. He had meditated, he explained, for multiple weeks, before he found the answer he had been seeking – the new apprentice would be the child with that name.
To say Kanika was surprised by Master Shal Umkur’s process would be an understatement; from the youngling’s understanding, the Master chose the student in accordance to their abilities, to a relationship, not nothing, not from a simple idea. But, as ridiculous as the idea seemed, it fascinated the Zabrak at the same time – here could be the one meant to make her a Jedi Knight. But the child felt conflicted, a pang pulling at her chest – what about Javin? For years, they had expected to face the trials side by side, to be each other’s pillar during the entire process; and yet, here she was, about to destroy their plans, to shatter every dream they had talked about.
Kanika asked if she could have a day – a single night to think things through. She knew many masters would have seen her display as disrespectful, and Kanika expected Shal Umkur to believe the same. But he smiled, a slow nod given to the child, motioning to the crooked path that led to the garden’s entrance.
Kanika ran, as fast as her body could take her, away from the pond, away from the Neti, and into the Temple halls once more. Part of her didn’t process as she nearly collided into multiple figures along the way, one Jedi Master even warning her to slow down before she fell. But she couldn’t slow down, she couldn’t stop – there were matters far too pressing for her to simply ‘walk.’ Her feet carried her down the winding Temple corridors and to a more familiar area. It didn’t take long after that for Kanika to come across Javin, who impatiently paced back and forth outside the dining hall waiting for her. Before the male could complain, Kanika pulled him to the side. The Zabrak spoke brightly of what had happened – of who she had seen – and of the offer the ancient tree had approached her with.
Her excitement soon dwindled, however, watching as a frown covered Javin’s face. But even when Javin hated the idea of losing his best friend, he encouraged Kanika to accept the Master’s offer – becoming Jedi had been their dream. Besides, he jested, perhaps it would be for the best – she probably would’ve made a fool of herself when sparring with him. They talked, they ate, and enjoyed each other’s company like they had done so for so many years, knowing well enough that this could be the last meal they shared for a while. The rest of the day was rather uneventful for the young Zabrak, spending her time listening listlessly at the lectures, her mind going back to the gardens again and again. When her attention shifted to present time, however, she always did notice Javin staring at her, only to shift his eyes when her eyes met his.
That night, as Kanika lay awake in bed, a small series of footsteps caught her attention. As the Zabrak pushed herself up to a sitting-up position, she was greeted by a small figure. For a second, Kanika thought about screaming out, but Javin’s voice greeted her ears. He told her to make him room and after a few seconds, she complied. Javin settled next to her, pulling his friend into a light embrace. He told her that she better be careful – things were going to be very different for them now. He stayed quiet for a couple of seconds, before Kanika felt his grip increase. Even if young, the two children were aware of the situation, how everything they knew and would come to know had changed in an instant – by a single phrase.
He didn’t say anything after that – he simply left.
Early the next morning, Kanika followed the path of the previous day and made her way to the gardens once again. Venturing through the all too familiar path, the Zabrak made her way towards the pond where the giant Neti sat dormant. With her hearts threatening to jump out of her chest, Kanika approached the creature again. Once the creature woke from its slumber, his eyes falling on the white girl, she gave a single nod of her head, ‘I would be honored to become your student, my Master Shal Umkur.’
Life was strangely similar to the one Kanika knew before. Master Shal Umkur held his lessons in the Temple’s Meditation Garden, finding his sheer size to be rather cumbersome in most of the training rooms – even when given the option to change his size into a more common one, he’d disregard it with a wave of his hands, there was no need for such trivial things. He spoke softly in the lessons, horribly slow as well, a rumbling oddly reminiscent of a drum. There were times Kanika felt a bit exasperated with Master Shal Umkur, especially when the ancient creature would drowse off to sleep – his head falling into his chest, a rolling snore grumbling in his throat. Kanika would simply sigh, sitting by his side, counting the minutes for the Neti to stir awake and resume the lesson once more. There were times, however, were Shal Umkur would become confused, starting the lesson from the very beginning or shifting into an entirely new one. Yet, what irritated Kanika the most was Master Shal Umkur’s insistence of having the Zabrak concentrate in areas of the Force. Kanika protested against the ancient Master’s decision, but her complaints were easily dismissed – she was not ready, Shal Umkur would say, with much to learn stil.
While saber study had come as second nature to the child, the manipulation of the Force could be described as aggravating. It was difficult, stressful, and, frankly, confusing to a fault – she could only wonder how she had managed to survive her lessons as well as she had. But the Master would have none of her complaints. For days, even weeks at a time, the Neti and the Zabrak would study the flow of the Force – starting their meditation early in the morning and ending it late in the afternoons. At times, the Zabrak admitted to even ‘cheating’ a little bit, drowsing in and out of a light sleep. Of course, Shal Umkur would notice Kanika’s actions, simply choosing to flick the back of her head gently. ‘Concentrate,’ he’d warn, to which Kanika would reply with a nod of her head.
Over the months, the confusion and irritation that had crept under the Zabrak’s skin, was replaced by an odd sense of admiration and newly formed patience. The lessons in the Force, though still beyond her mastery, now came easier under Shal Umkur’s patient gaze. Difficult lessons were simplified to fit the Zabrak’s needs, his countless of years of experience giving him the opportunity to do so. While her stubbornness remained, it was now redirected to learning the material Shal Umkur presented her with.
Even with her new found role as a padawan under Master Shal Umkur, Kanika found time to visit her human counterpart whenever she got the chance. Her friendship with Javin, even if there were times the duo didn’t see each other for weeks, never faded as if not even a day had gone by since they saw each other. Master Shal Umkur did not seem to mind, eventually allowing her a couple of hours free so she could go and train with her long time friend. For that, Kanika was greatly thankful. While their world had begun to rapidly change, Javin’s friendship remained the same. When the trials for Javin came, Kanika constantly reassured the young boy that everything would be alright – he was smart and well-prepared, he would pass without a doubt; and he did. Even when the apprentice tournament took place, Kanika, entrusted to a Jedi Knight and previous padawan to Shal Umkur, cheered on the sidelines for her friend. After hours had passed by, the tournament was finally over; Javin had not been victorious, being second-to-last to be eliminated, however, the human soon found himself chosen by an Umbaran Guardian as a padawan. Kanika felt blessed, in a way, to see her friend so happy. But, at the same time, she was frightened. While Shal Umkur was a Jedi Sage, now spending most his time in the Jedi Temple, Javin’s Master was a guardian – someone who faced constant dangers. She begged Javin to listen carefully to his master’s lessons, to prepare for the life he was to have; when they came to the age of fifteen and began to accompany their masters on missions, the Zabrak begged him to heed his Master’s warnings, to be careful. He was her brother and she did not want to lose him.
It was at that age, after many years of training and perfecting her handling of the Force, that Shal Umkur approached her with a curious proposition – to leave Coruscant for a while, head to the world of Ilum. Kanika was curious as to why her master wished to visit such a place and while she questioned his decision, the Zabrak complied. Within a week, the proper preparations had taken place, and the Padawan and her Master, though having had shifted into a more manageable size, left the Jedi Temple. It was the first time Kanika would leave Coruscant, let alone the Jedi Temple, so the youth couldn’t help but be excited at what she would see. She wondered if they were going to a secret mission, like those that many of her peers had already been in, or if they were supposed to help a village in need of aid, but Shal Umkur wasn’t saying and after a few hours, Kanika desisted with her questions.
Ilum was definitely not what the female had in mind. Of course, she had learned of the frozen planet before, but Kanika wasn’t aware that it was completely frozen. Honestly, Kanika cannot remember a time where she felt this sheer amount of cold. It made the Zabrak shudder uncontrollably, teeth clattering against one another, and once the ship landed and the door opened into the frozen landscape, the cold only got worse. There was no solace in the white planet; nothing could appease the wild chills that shook her body or the pain that stretched in her bones. Even her giant Master seemed to take a beating. The sparse foliage that Shal Umkur had, becoming frozen with the wild air – a thin layer of ice visible in his chest plate and back. But while Kanika often commented on how cold it was, her Master seemed unfazed. Without hesitation, the Neti moved forward, telling the Padawan to follow close, there were beasts in this world that would not hesitate to attack if given the opportunity.
Throughout the trip, few words were exchanged between the Master and apprentice, but whether it was because the wind did not allow it or because it was simply too cold for them to move their lips, they did not know. Early signs of frostbite began to show throughout the Zabrak’s body, the tips her fingers beginning to blister and blacken over time; it was necessity that compelled the giant to instruct Kanika in the basics of healing, of using the Force to mend what had been broken. Yet, it wasn’t enough – no matter the healing, the pain was everpresent and quick to return. To appease the younger female, Shal Umkur often asked for them to meditate, to ease their bodies and feel some form of comfort, even if it was momentary. Kanika was thankful at the Master’s instruction, but remained hopeful that whatever compelled Shal Umkur to bring them here would soon be resolved.
For nine days more, the two braved the frozen wasteland, their bodies taking a constant beating under the severe weather, it was then that they saw it. For a second, Kanika believed it to be nothing more than part of the mountain, a face that looked unto them with unwavering eyes. But the longer she stared, the longer the padawan realized that the mountain gave shape to a building of incredible beauty and might, a temple unlike any she had seen before. Glancing to Shal Umkur, Kanika saw the giant smile, and with weary steps they carried onward – their destination now on sight.
The Temple on Ilum was a haven as far as Kanika was concerned – salvation to their weary spirits and pained bodies. Entering the halls, the Zabrak found comforting warmth – something, she believed, she would never come to know. Her boots cracked against the stone floors with every step she took, the leather frozen around the clothing she wore. She followed Shal Umkur quietly, watching as the older male made his way into the mostly silent Temple. A couple of times, Shal Umkur was approached by curious Masters she had never met before, but the conversations never lasted long; there were ‘matters of outmost importance that required immediate tending.’ Kanika glanced curiously at the Neti, but never raised her voice – whatever her Master was talking about, would eventually come to light.
And soon enough it did.
When Kanika saw the Temple stretch into a winding cave, she was unsure of what she should feel. The Zabrak was conflicted in a way – excited to learn that Shal Umkur had decided it was time for the teenager to choose the crystal that would become part of her blade, but horrified to know that intense hours of meditation awaited her upon her return. But as her Master instructed her to go forward, there was little room for protest.
Pained steps carried the Zabrak into the cave, shaking knees threatening to collapse each time she forced herself to move. But the beauty around her, the glittering shapes that beckoned attention, forced her to move. Something was calling her, whispering her name; it was a voice sweeter than anything she had heard before – foreign, surreal, and at the same time, easily understood. She moved to it without hesitation, like a moth to flames. Kanika was unsure of how long she walked, how long she followed the call, how long her eyes searched for the origin, but was only greeted by dancing shadows and gleaming shapes.
Hours came and went as the Zabrak continued to follow the calls deeper into the cavern of crystals. Finally, she saw them, the calling coming louder, stronger than before. They sat in the corner, barely noticeable amongst its brothers and sisters, two milky blue stones. Kanika walked towards the dainty figures, hand reaching towards them, the calling causing a buzzing in her head. White fingers brushed against the crystals’ cold surface, the electricity she felt was immediate. Straightening up, she examined the twin crystals in her hands. Truth be told, they were nothing extraordinary. Their sheen was not impeccable, their shape was imperfect, but as she held them in her hand, everything felt right. Kanika knew it, the voices, the calling; these were the crystals that the Force had chosen for her.
It was months later that it dawned on the young padawan that their trip to the Jedi temple had taken an unnecessarily long time. They should have arrived outside the temple doors, perhaps taken a day if their calculations were wrong, but they took nine days instead. Kanika, approached the ancient master with the question but when waiting for a response, she was met by a chuckle – a chortling laugh that vibrated across her frame.
“You needed the right motivation to learn of Force Healing, and I provided you with it.”
Kanika stood flabbergasted at the Master’s answer, but while every muscle in her body was begging for her to scream, the Zabrak laughed. She laughed alongside Shal Umkur, their voices echoing into the Gardens – at least, she figured, it made for an interesting story.
It was frustrating to learn that even with the discovery of her crystals, it would be weeks before the padawan could put them to use. They needed to be meditated upon, Shal Umkur explained, to be imbedded by the very essence of her being, by the very Force that ran through her veins. It was a tedious process that required hours upon hours of uninterrupted meditation, spent in solitude by the Zabrak within the garden walls. There were times were frustrated groans would leave Kanika’s lips, hands clapped down against her thighs, the crystals that had been suspended before her face, dropping without apparent noise. But with each apparent defeat the padawan was forced to endure, with it appeared an unusual fire. Where complaints were once expected, Shal Umkur now found persistence in the fifteen year old. Without further encouragement, the Neti master would watch as Kanika would pick up the crystals, beginning the meditation process again.
Months after she began to imbue the crystals, now at the age of sixteen, Kanika found herself ready to begin the construction of her lightsabers. When the previous process had required the Zabrak’s full concentration to the point of becoming dreary, the lightsabers’ assembly was thoroughly exciting to Kanika. The process was slow, requiring hours of research and trial-and-error, but Shal Umkur could see how his padawan was giving her all. For the first time, Shal Umkur would later explain, Kanika was without words, hours spent in silence without question or complaints.
Sadly, the silence that the Master enjoyed during this period was short-lived, taking the padawan a mere month to complete the twin hilts. Once they were ready and in a fully operational state, the nagging began. Kanika, while a brilliant and respectable student was horribly adamant, impossible to sway when a thought captured her mind. The promise of lightsabers had fueled the padawan to ask the Neti to begin their training, to the ancient creature’s amusement. A routine was established not long after that – every morning their greeting included the Zabrak asking if they were to start the lightsaber training soon and every evening the duo parting as the master said that he would have the answer soon. Yet, as the months came and went, Kanika introduced to the healing properties of the Force, the less likely it seemed Shal Umkur had decided on an answer.
The answer finally came at the age of seventeen. Kanika had entered the warm gardens as she had done so for the last five years, following the meandering path to the fishpond. Upon arrival, the familiar sight that had become the giant Neti was gone, replaced instead by a much smaller creature. In size, the tree-like creature was no larger than five feet tall, a few inches shorter than the padawan herself. Kanika was unsure of how to react at the curious creature, shy steps taken in its direction. Kanika considered questioning the being’s presence for a short instant, until the familiar rumbling voice greeted her ears. The padawan nearly jumped in surprise to find the origin of the voice to be none other than the smaller creature. Shal Umkur, a Neti, had a natural ability to shapeshift and after careful consideration, thought it was time to retrieve his saber at long last – it was time for Kanika’s instructions in dueling to commence.
It amazed the Neti master how easily the padawan grasped the concept of lightsaber forms. When the Zabrak had encountered constant difficulties when introduced to deeper areas of the Force, Kanika seemed unmoved with the challenges of swordplay. Kanika’s body reacted naturally to the introduction of Jar'Kai, picking up on the precise form as if she had been exposed to it before. There was unusual precision behind the padawan’s carefully placed blows. In his many years of instruction in the Order, there had been but a handful of students under his care that showed similar potential. Most of these students hand gone on to pursue a career as Guardians or Sentinels, but something told Shal Umkur that Kanika’s future did not lay amongst those ranks.
The Force was beckoning the ancient Master to guide Kanika Shoshan elsewhere. He asked the Force in more than one occasion for guidance, for an answer to his many questions. The young woman, now twenty, was nearing the period when her path would be forged and the Neti was worried for the decision she would take. It was in a dream that he saw them – eyes. Solemn, green, cold, looking at the world with unusual calm; they were eyes that healed, eyes that mended. In them, Shal Umkur figured, it was where the answer lay.
It was mere coincidence that allowed Shal Umkur to pursue the Force’s calling. A name that in recent years had become extensively popular in the lips of the Healers; the student of a student – a child gifted in the Force, one who had revolutionized the Order’s method in healing. The prodigy, the Master had learned, was to hold a lecture in regards to his approaches. Shal Umkur, did not hesitate to encourage the padawan to accompany him to the lecture.
Master Levin Caelum was a Jedi unlike any Kanika had met. The man, in a word, was odd, bordering on eccentric. When he had spoken so easily about the complex workings of the Force and the healing it could give, the man seemed less keen to interact in less formal topics. He was respectful, that, the Zabrak could not deny, greeting Shal Umkur with an odd admiration, but he was otherwise stoic. His words were reserved and solemn, the only present fervor reserved when talking about his duties in the Order. Even in appearance the man was anything but what Kanika would have expected from a Jedi – unkempt hair, with baggy eyes, and scruffiness on his chin; Jedi robes long abandoned, replaced by an outfit more seemingly fitting of a civilian. But, what surprised Kanika most, was the reverence that Shal Umkur returned. He spoke to the younger male as if the Neti himself was speaking to his own master. It was curious, leaving the Zabrak staring at their exchange cautiously, brow furrowed and arms crossed defiantly across her chest.
Through the meeting, the Zabrak’s mind drifted here and there, never paying particular interest at the words the two Masters exchanged. That is, until a single word was spoken, her name. Pale eyes fell upon the two as they spoke of a new padawanship – a new master for her to study under. A master chosen by the Force, Shal Umkur said, a sword for the Order, Master Caelum added. And all the young woman could manage was to stare perplexed. Truth be told, Kanika was beyond confused. It was uncommon for Jedi to change students save under extreme circumstances, which, she thought, did not include them. But even as she questioned their decision, partially considering the Masters were making a mistake, there was little that could be done or said.
Preparations began to take place.
Life seemed to change in an instant for the young Zabrak. The quiet monotony she had come to love and enjoy over the course of the years was shattered. Her padawanship under Shal Umkur had ended, and now she found herself learning under the curious master, Levin Caelum. Yet, what seemed to change the most in Kanika Shoshan’s life was her friendship with Javin.
Even as their training had often made it difficult for the two padawans to spend time together, their friendship had endured, becoming progressively stronger as the years went by. Even when missions tore them away for months at a time, making communication impossible between the two, upon their reunion, their friendship would continue as if they merely saw each other a day previous. It was a friendship that Kanika had come to lean upon in times of difficulty and doubt, one which time and time again directed her into the right path.
Kanika and Javin knew one another like the back of their hand – there was nothing they didn’t know about the other. So, when the Zabrak stumbled upon the human male late one morning, she immediately knew something was not right. The bright remarks and friendly jokes that they often exchanged were lacking, replaced instead by serious eyes and a knotted brow. The male was unable to see her in the face, shifting nervously and keeping his head low.
Javin was leaving Coruscant.
No parting words were breathed as Kanika and Javin stood side by side – no glances, no hugs, there was only a simple touch. It was miniscule, easily missed; yet it was the strongest gesture the friends ever exchanged. With their bodies close, hands reached instinctively for each other – a desperate attempt to keep some sense of normalcy in their tumultuous lives. Limbs brushed against one another, his hand cold against her own. Their pinkies were laced, their grip slack but desperate, unlike anything she had ever felt before. The gesture lasted an instant, destroyed as quickly as it had come. Two footsteps is all it took to pull the friends apart. Fingers slacked, dropped to the Zabrak’s side, gray eyes watching Javin disappear into the Temple. He left later that evening, a ship bound to the Force knew where. Even as memories became muddled over time, a series of flashing images without beginning or end, the memory of his phantom touch was forever present. In fact, in times of great tension, the Zabrak reaches instinctively to her hand to search for the security of his touch.
There are times that Kanika lays awake at night remembering how she and Javin parted their ways. They were torn by the Galaxy’s uncertainty, their duties leading them in different paths. For Javin, arduous battles and difficulties awaited his future, and, for Kanika, a new master under Levin Caelum.
Race: Zabrak
Age: 21
Height: 5’5’’
Weight: 135
Appearance: There is something about the Zabrak that makes her oddly striking. Perhaps it is the way she glances to the side whenever a thought clouds her mind, or the way she moves with remarkable grace. Others boast that it is the way her lips sport an eternal smile, as if she knows something others don’t; or maybe it’s even the way she crosses her arms over her chest as she talks, head tilted sideways, brow furrowed in thought. Though, no matter the reasons, no matter who you ask, if a single trait about Kanika Shoshan could be described as unmistakable, none could deny that this would be her eyes. Kanika’s eyes study the world with unusual determination; a penetrating gaze that often stares off into the distance, their attention flicking back whenever someone comes near. In color they are gray, unusually light, lined by a thick, saturated black ring. Defined eyebrows and thick black eyelashes frame her eyes, emphasizing the impossible lightness of her irises. A trait that keeps many at bay, Kanika’s eyes are unusual, wild and fierce, capturing the memory of all she meets.
If one is capable to look past this quality, they would notice the Zabrak’s porcelain skin. Smooth stretches of skin, clear and untouched, greet the eye – cold, unyielding, tempting to touch. For the most part, the skin shows no blemishes, save for a mole under her right eye, and a dark shade of gray that now stretches around her eyes – a trait gained from many nights spent awake, the woman admits without missing a beat, spent checking on Jedi and Jedi initiates alike on the hospital wing of the Temple. Her lips are slightly full and by no means an after-thought to the rest of her persona. On the parting of her lips a deep berry tone can be observed – extending towards the rim of her lips were the color diffuses into a lighter shade of gray – giving her an eternally ‘bitten’ look. The woman’s soft, oval face and classic, angular nose increase the distinction the rest of her character portrays.
Kanika’s hair is lustrous – a rich black color that frames the lightness of her face. When compared to the rest of the Zabrak, her medium-length hair seems to be the most normal of her features, pulled to her left where it sits silently. From time to time, the dark hair is pulled back into a high ponytail and out of the Zabrak’s face – that is, if the woman hasn’t appeased it into a fishtail braid. While the Zabrak sports no tattoos on her face, like other counterparts, the woman’s heritage is clear – six horns crowning her head. The first initial five horns start on the uppermost part of her forehead, fanning outwards and to the back of her head. The sixth horn, though much smaller, sits on the middle of her forehead – a dainty little thing. In color the horns are nothing extraordinary to tell the truth, no more than a creamy tone turning into a sandy-brown as they curve upwards.
It is rare to see the woman outside her Jedi regalia – those rare occasions coming as shocking to her peers. While she no longer wears the traditional garbs she had gained as a young padawan, the traditional feel and analogous tones of crème and brown remain. Kamika sports a tan pair of harem pants that fold heavily as she stands still. A loose blouse of a soft consistency and of a crème shade cover her torso, fluttering down to her upper thighs, providing the padawan with both comfort and mobility. Kanika sports, regardless of place, a sand colored asymmetrical overtunic with a high neckline and made of a sturdier fabric. The fabric is cinched together at her waist by a wide, bitter-chocolate leather obi belt. Modified holsters sit on her left and right thighs, securing her lightsabers in place. Soft leather boots and fingerless gloves cover her extremities, the only part of her ensemble that have seen the passing of the years. A black overtunic with wide bat sleeves is sported by the padawan as well, brushing a little over her hips while growing significantly longer on the back. A tattered brown robe is sported whenever the Padawan is sent off world, but it generally lays forgotten in her room.
Personality: If appearances alone determined the worth of a character, it is most likely that Kanika would be seen with weariness and distrust. Perhaps it’s the coolness with which she carries herself or the almost untamed expression in her eyes, but upon seeing Kanika Shoshan for the first time, you wouldn’t expect the amicable persona inside.
Yet, while her friendliness is something that cannot be denied, the Zabrak holds a strongly adamant persona, one that is unafraid to make its presence known. It is incredibly difficult for people to change Kanika Shoshan’s mind, especially when it has been set. While calmness has never been a part of her persona, the Zabrak prone to saying jokes and laughing as easily as the next person, Kanika does carry herself with a certain grace. Each movement the Padawan makes is fluid and refined – each step taken with great care. Her movements are minimal, giving the appearance of floating at times – the lack of noise behind her movements further encouraging the belief. Kanika is a curious soul, one that enjoys learning as much as she possibly can – from history, literature, and music, there is little the Zabrak won’t enjoy reading about.
The Zabrak always attempts to bring a friendly hand regardless of the situation – she likes people, she likes meeting people, and most of all she loves learning about them. It was a trait that Shal Umkur fostered over the years, encouraging the padawan to never let go of this trait – to love and respect all. Her kindness, however, should not be confused for an inability to tell the truth. I suppose the best definition for Kanika’s demeanor would be candidly honest. No matter how much Kanika cares for someone, the Zabrak will always say what’s on her mind – her statements will never be sugarcoated, nor will they drip with ‘little-white-lies.’ What you see is what you get.
Kanika is a perfectionist; of that there is no doubt. Every action she takes, every movement she is makes, is carefully weighed and considered. Everything must come out as the young Padawan intended – nothing short of perfection. Of course, this may seem rather ridiculous – perhaps even unrealistic – but considering the two Jedi Masters she has had as mentors, her relentlessness is understood. Yet, the Zabrak does not complain of the hard work that was forced upon her, explaining that it has only furthered her knowledge and skills – both of which she wholeheartedly appreciates. Her acquired abilities, however, have made the twenty year old confident. Kanika holds little doubt of her capabilities and, as such, openly welcomes new challenges posed by her master. However, it should be noted that the woman is well aware of the limits of her abilities, knowing well enough when – and if – she is in and over her head.
Birth place: Wortan, Iridonia
Faction: Jedi
Rank: Padawan
Lightsaber: Dual Single Phase Lightsabers
Color: Pale powder blue
Practiced Lightsaber forms:
Force-Sensitive Abilities or practices:
Telepathic: 2
Body: 2
Sense: 4
Protection: 3
Healing: 5
Destruction: 0
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Specialized Skills:
Attributes:
Intelligence: 5
Speed: 6
Leadership: 4
Unarmed: 4
Melee Weapons: 2
Ranged Weapons: 0[/ul]
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Wortan, Iridonia, is a sad, little place. The city that once bustled with life within the canyon’s embrace, now sits in silence – a mere shell of what it used to be. The tall, ferroconcrete buildings that stretched over several blocks, now sat in peace; bodies broken, odd, sharp angles sticking out like sharp little teeth, ready to snap at whatever wandered close. The bustling streets had grown cold, and now simply lay forgetting, forgotten, at what they had seen long ago. The peace Wortan once had been known for had ceased, replaced by clamoring of gangs and bandits that took to the streets. The soft breeze that does manage to enter the ailing place disturbed the dust from its sleep, rising it up into the air, engaging in silly pirouettes as they teased and pulled at the moth-eaten puce curtains in the broken windows that remain.
But within the violence, within the chaos, within the winding labyrinth of collapsed tunnels and destroyed stores, goodness stayed. People tried to lead good lives as best as they could, to recover the greatness the city had held many years ago; and even if with each step taken forward, three were taken back, many still had hope. There was no evil that lasted for a hundred years, things simply had to get better again.
An Unusual Beginning
REMAINS OF A BROKEN CITY
REMAINS OF A BROKEN CITY
Thiedil Shoshan was one of these hopeful that blinded herself to the dangers of the world. Even years after her parents had passed and friends had left to Capital City waiting to start anew, the young Zabrak remained in the place she had always called home. In a crooked little street that stretched to the Northern part of Wortan, sat the young Zabrak’s home, an asylum to the world that surrounded her. In appearance the house was not much to take in, a small brick building that had moved over the years. The way it slouched to the right reminded her of Thiedil of an old woman, with her sad little windows staring down at the street with strangely clear eyes. The sun had ate the bright red color its walls had once held, revealing instead a sun bleached pink tone. It creaked during the night, the Zabrak would say, groaning and moaning as the air buffeted its thinning walls. But it kept her warm during the cold and dry during rain, everything else were details easily ignored.
Life was normal for the young female, as normal as the Force would allow. Thiedil owned a tiny general store in the southern part of town, nothing luxurious, nothing that could make the Zabrak rich, but something that provided her with what she needed to live. Thiedil didn’t ask for anything, nor did she take for anyone else, all the young Zabrak wished for is to survive.
Wortan, Iridonia was not a good place; it made sure to prove it again and again.
When petty thieves were nothing more than a nuisance Wortan had to endure, the swoop gang known as J-44 could bring grown men to their knees. They were ruthless, sadistic, looking for the slightest reason to kill. Generally they kept themselves in the underground, rising only when chaos and destruction called to them. Thiedil had been working late one afternoon when they came in – an array of males that made the city cringe. The Zabrak tried her very best to disappear – concealing herself in the shadows of the backroom.
Thiedil could hear containers shattering, the roaring of laughter; she could hear their cursing and screeching ringing through the store. Part of her thought about running, but she was frozen – her legs wouldn’t respond. She was afraid, simply terrified at what they might do. What came next made the Zabrak’s blood run cold and for a second the woman swore that her heart stopped. At first the sound was unrecognizable, nothing but the sound of shifting. But it grew stronger, louder with each passing second, until it was finally impossible for Thiedil to ignore it. She turned, though part of her begged for her body to remain still, and it was then that she saw it – a single figure, broad-shouldered and tall, a male that that second made her blood run cold. The male Zabrak was terrifying to Thiedil – with dark, charcoal skin, white facial tattoos breaking through his skin, and a knowing grin; yet what struck her the most were his eyes – feral, uncouth, amber eyes. She tried screaming, but before she knew it his hand was on her lips, stifling the possibility of any sound. Part of her begged for death fearing all other possibilities, but neither would come. All Thiedil felt that moment was the male’s breath against her ear telling her to be silent, to be still – he removed his hand from her lips, telling her to stay – it simply wasn’t safe. He pulled away from her and before Thiedil knew it, he was out the door and she was alone once more.
Hours came and went – the sound that once echoed through the store dwindled into nothingness. The Zabrak must have drifted into sleep as the minutes turned to hours, not once hearing as the door creaked open again. She felt herself shaken, eyes snapped open – cold gray meeting bright amber. The male told her to get up, and so Thiedil obeyed, afraid of what could happen if she didn’t follow through. He told her to follow and she did without objection, throat tight and dry. When part of Thiedil screamed for the Zabrak to run, the other was surprised as how the man led her through the half destroyed – though thankfully empty – store.
He apologized, if only in his actions, for the destruction of the store, instructing the female to stay away from the city if she knew “what’s good for you.” A war was coming to Wortan, the male explained – territories were being disputed, blood was going to be shed – tonight would be the first of a series of break-ins to bring chaos and destruction around the already broken city. But she didn’t have the credits, no means to escape, and regardless of the warnings, the woman remained. As violent outbursts became more frequent through Wortan and the world Thiedil knew threatened to spiral out of control, a strange friendship between the female and his savior began to form. Over time, Thiedil learned that the man’s name was Gulrilhrae, a scout to the J-44. That day on the general store, he was there to observe – to help silence anyone that could readily identify them and keep an eye out in case trouble rose. The meetings that once were reserved to a monthly venture for Gulrilhrae to convince Thiedil to leave, soon became a daily occurrence between the two. A strange friendship soon formed, one that provided them with haven from the surrounding world.
The once unwanted feelings grew stronger with the passing of each year, and by the age of twenty-eight, Thiedil soon recognized the unwanted feelings as those of love. At first, the woman was unsure to make of them – she thought about burying more than one, to forget their existence. Still, she could not bring herself to do it, that is, forget everything she felt. Yet, even as the woman explained everything she felt, she never expected the male’s response. Without hesitation, without any doubt, Gulrilhrae took her first kiss. That night, they engaged in the ritual of Tai’Shan, two bodies becoming one. They mated, bonded for life, and so, their official union begun.
Life with Gulrilhrae was not exactly what the female had envisioned. Where Thiedil expected violent outbursts and a coarse demeanor, she found surprising gentleness. He was a kind man, if a little rough around the edges, but it didn’t particularly bother Thiedil. He hummed when he worked on his swoop bike and crinkled his nose when he thought –characteristics that she came to love. It must have been close to two years since Thiedil had been with Gulrilhrae that the woman began to feel ill. Her body felt – different, queasy, and tired all the time. After visiting a mid-wife in Wortan, they learned that Thiedil was expecting. Motherhood fit Thiedil well, who looked on it like a gift from the maker. While Gulrilhrae looked upon his new role as a new father nervously, it didn’t prevent the Zabrak from trying – and at night opted to try and lull the baby to sleep. Thiedil could see how Gulrilhrae tried his very best to start anew, to leave the life he had behind, but it would eventually prove impossible for the male.
It was two months after their child’s birth that they came. It was early one evening that the humming of the swoop bike broke through the young couple’s home. It didn’t take long for a knock to follow – a booming sound that threatened to topple the small house over. Thiedil watched as Gulrilhrae reached for the door, half-dressed and looking completely confused. From the crack on the door, the female saw a male. In girth and height he was much taller than Gulrilhrae, with deep rust-colored skin and a deep drumming voice. Jurikk, she could hear him being called, greeting Gulrilhrae like a long-lost brother of sorts. They talked for a few minutes amid hushed voices, before the conversation took a much darker turn. The territory war they had been anticipating had arrived at full-force. Many members had been lost in the process and they needed their members once more. This, life, that Gulrilhrae had chosen, that playing house, needed to stop. He was given a simple option – get rid of the distractions or they’d do it for him.
Thiedil remembers the horror that momentarily crossed Gulrilhrae’s face, how he pealed from the door and his eyes looked for hers. No words were spoken, no last messages exchanged, the male simply crossed the room, grabbed the ignition key for his swoop bike, and left their home.
It was not long after that Thiedil made up her mind; with the newborn in arms and spare credits in her pocket, the female left for Capital City. Life was difficult for the woman and the newborn; at times the young mother barely had enough to feed the child. They suffered from homelessness for many a months, until finally a well-to-do couple took pity on the mother and child, opening their home for the two. Thiedil soon began to work as a maid in the couple’s household, a small price to pay for a roof and food. But the Force was not done with the challenges it would bring to Thiedil. As the child reached its eighth month of life, a curious sight visited the house one day. The male Falleen identified himself as Danush, a recruiter of the Jedi Order. He explained to the young mother that he been guided to the home by the Force, and sought to take the child to the Order.
While the mother hoped to keep the child of the man she had loved and lost, the woman knew that there was only so much she could give her – the temple, the Jedi could save her sweet babe. The child, no more than eight months of age, was brought to the Temple, where she would be raised and instructed in the ways of the Force; thus began the life of Kanika Shoshan.
Voice of a Gentle Soul
THE EARLY LIFE OF KANIKA SHOSHAN
THE EARLY LIFE OF KANIKA SHOSHAN
The trip to the Jedi Temple on was uneventful for the Falleen Jedi and his young companion spent in hours of constant silence. Every once in a while, the silence would be shattered, the nonsensical babbling of the child followed by silly fits of giggle echoing through the corvette. And even when the baby would break out crying for the lack of her mother’s presence, Kanika was quickly appeased and left smiling once more. In fact, early on the crew and Jedi learned that the best possible approach for settling the child would be the introduction of a mirror. Kanika would pat at the mirror’s surface with open hands, eyes impossibly wide with wonder, and lips silently open – far too excited to actually squeal. For hours without end, the child sat entertained in front of the flat stranger that mimicked her every move; all the while, Danush couldn’t help but watch the child’s display with amusement, waiting until the Zabrak tired herself and drifted into a light sleep of sorts.
For two days, the routine was settled between recruiter and child – the monotony disrupted upon their arrival to the Coruscant Temple, Kanika’s new home.
None could deny that Kanika Shoshan was a curious child. She was incredibly pale, white in fact, as if she had been carved from a slate of ice and with eyes so unusual that it made most double-back for a better look. Nevertheless, Kanika was healthy, quiet and gentle, just another happy Youngling that had been brought to the Temple’s care. Unlike other younglings of the same age, the Zabrak slept soundly through the night and rarely cried; that is, if one didn’t count those moments when she needed to have her diaper changed, she felt stressed, or was simply hungry – which proved to be fairly often to the surprise of many. Kanika had an unrivaled appetite as a baby, eating all that was placed in front of her without hesitation. Even when facing an inedible object, the girl would chew on it relentlessly for hours, as if convinced that her small, weak teeth would somehow manage to break it down. Kanika was a child content with the new world that surrounded her, even if she wasn’t aware of it yet.
The years came kindly to the Zabrak child and the handlers in charge of her well-being. The sweet personality that she had exhibited throughout her early childhood never wavered, even as she entered the so called ‘terrible-twos.’ She was incredibly patient for someone her age, sitting quietly as the lessons took place. Perhaps she was fascinated at what the instructors said, of the worlds they talked about and which she couldn’t come close to imagining. Kanika wanted to learn, she needed to learn more of these places – which often made her seem a little high-spirited. But then again, at the shy age of two, energy seemed to have an infinite source in most children – and Kanika was no different. She was bright and eager, jumping from place to place, running and yelling if left to her own devices. While the childish antics would take many years to desist and be replaced by order and attention, it was at the age of three that the true lessons began. The instructors had previously spoken of planets and feats that captivated the eager minds of children, but the Jedi teachings soon replaced the stories, dictating the cadence of the Jedi life.
The lessons were difficult to understand and often left the three year old with more questions rather than answers. ‘Why?’ soon became part of Kanika’s word repertoire, spoken constantly amid lessons, arms waving wildly over her head – there was just so much to learn. Yet, it was difficult for her to retain everything during the lessons. Kanika gave all of her undivided attention to the instructors, but it wasn’t enough; once out of the classroom, everything seemed to slip her mind. It was frustrating for the young Zabrak, but she wasn’t disheartened by it; if anything, the girl seemed convinced to fix the problem she had. Kanika submerged herself in studying often, if merely because she wanted to do her best, spending hours reading over material their instructors had covered. Kanika was not, by any means, gifted – the lessons she learned and recognition she obtained being the sole result of constant hard work.
Yet, while her knowledge came from hours of constant studying and practice, whatever abilities she had with a saber came naturally to the girl.
The first time a training saber was secured within her hands, Kanika had felt at ease. In those short seconds, something seemed to change within the Zabrak, it made her stand taller, shoulders back, head held high – as if everything was right in the Galaxy for once. The weight of the training saber against her white hands, felt like an extension of her body – like a missing limb that had been suddenly reattached. Every action, every thrust, every parry and step, seemed to be the result of reaction rather than thought. Shi-Cho seemed almost like a second nature to the girl, picking up the movements without fault. When it came time for the children to spar against each other, the Zabrak moved with unusual grace; each step was taken with careful consideration, planted firmly beneath her feet. While her skills were laughable compared to those of older initiates and padawans, they made Kanika infamous amongst her clan. In spars, Kanika was relentless, fierce, unwilling to meet defeat; coupled with her distinct appearance, it made many of her peers weary – something just seemed off.
Over time, the little friendships the Zabrak had managed to uphold over the years became stressed and started to deteriorate. She became alienated, the punch line of cruel jokes and pranks. Her handlers tried their very best to appease the unruly seven year olds, but children never understand the severity of their actions. Kanika tried her very best to change their perception of her as well, but every word, every deed went unnoticed. It was almost as if the younglings persistently tried to villanize the curious Zabrak, all because they simply failed to understand. But while maturity dwindled whatever fear children had of Kanika as years went by, one initiate in particular remained particularly hesitant to accept her.
It was in one of her daily training sessions under the watchful eyes of her supervisor’s gaze, that a single boy caught her attention. She had met him a couple of times before, taking many of the same lessons as he, but generally the two kept to themselves – that day, however, it was different. When the young Human and Zabrak had been left to their own devices, that day they were paired-up in hopes they would help one another train.
There was no friendship in the beginning between Javin and Kanika, the two finding the other beyond irritating. During spars, it was not uncommon to see the two younglings spend much of the available time making faces at each other rather than practicing. When the younglings, however, did somehow manage to engage in a friendly spar, it was impossible to gauge who would come out on top. Their approaches were very different – his relying on strength and stamina, the girl’s relying on quickness and well-placed strikes – but none could deny their capabilities; with the proper training under a skillful Master, their instructors would guess, the two could flourish. However, they were both stubborn to a fault, a potentially serious drawback, which made its presence known in more than one occasion.
It was difficult to make Kanika and Javin stop their sparring; even when successful, the instructors had to attempt to restrain them from shooting jabs and sneers at one another. They were scolded, reprimanded more than once, but it just seemed to fuel their distaste for each other further. Finally, after months of dealing with their imprudent behavior, their instructors were left with no other choice but punish the duo. Pulled aside from their clan, their sparring instructor explained that they would be staying behind every day to clean, hoping they would learn to tolerate each other at the very least.
The children begrudgingly accepted. While Kanika and Javin did their best to mask their dislike for each other when the instructors drew near, once out of earshot their snide remarks and face-making would continue. Surprisingly, as the months came and went, the once friendless child found solace in her companion, a true and lasting friendship coming from the rivalry she and Javin shared. Inside jokes and playful jabs soon became a common sight exchanged between the two. Their inability to travel without each other’s company soon becoming clear – even during Kanika’s ventures to the library, Javin was close by.
The children expected that the Jedi would keep them together, through thick and thin. Kanika and Javin spoke about fighting side by side once they grew, flying the galaxy and bringing order side-by-side. They would be friends forever, until the day they died. Years later, when talk about the Initiate Trials began to be discussed amongst their clan, Kanika and Javin saw it as the opportunity that would make their dream come true. Under the watchful eyes of their instructors, the two began to train – sometimes even twice a day.
But the Force is a fickle mistress and while the children plotted to remain at each others’ side, their fates had come into play.
The Meditation Gardens
CALL TO PADAWANSHIP
CALL TO PADAWANSHIP
It had been but a few weeks after Kanika’s twelfth birthday that the Jedi approached her one crisp morning. Kanika remembers the day well, how she recited the Jedi Code in union with the rest of her clan – process they had done every morning as far as she could remember – when the female entered the room. She spoke quickly to their Instructor, hushed responses followed, all before a single name was given, hers. The Zabrak was unsure of what was going on at first, but she could feel Javin’s eyes boring intio her, she glanced quickly at him, was met by a mouthed question – and all the Zabrak could do was shrug. She didn’t know what was going on, part of her was scared as a result, but when she was asked to stand and follow, Kanika did without hesitation.
No words were spoken in that walk, which only increased the Zabrak’s uneasiness. She was scared, inches below petrified, had she done something wrong? But no matter how much she tried, or how she twisted and turned the questions in her head, trying to find the very best way to voice them, Kanika found no comfort. Instead, the Zabrak opted to bite down on her cheeks and concentrate on the shade of her boots – which grew more interesting over time. The Zabrak was led across the winding corridors she had come to know and love, until eventually they took an unexpected turn into the Meditation Gardens.
When the Temple’s air had been cool and crisp, the garden’s air was warm and thick. In a breath, Kanika felt as the tender air rushed past her, getting caught in her chest. Kanika looked up at the Jedi, desperate to find an answer to the many questions that floated through her mind, but was met by a single phrase, ‘Go on.’ Kanika was hesitant as she took the first step, her feet sinking into the lush green grasses and the gentle earth. The sights that greeted her were outstanding, beautiful in fact. The Force was so vibrant in this place; it hummed with prowess unlike any Kanika had seen before. The buzzing of bugs greeted her the deeper the youngling traveled into the gardens, but was soon lost to the roaring laughter of a stream. She followed the noise, if only by instinct. The Zabrak must have spent close to thirty minutes snaking her way across the twisting grottoes and dense foliage, until crystal clear waters greeted her.
In the middle of the gardens, tucked away behind vivid green walls, sat a gentle pond full of colorful golden fish. But her attention was stolen, soon settling on a single figure to her left. By the pond, hunched above its sparkling waters, sat a tree. It hunched over itself, body twisting on top of a moss-ridden rock, making it seem almost as if it sat in quiet meditation at what it saw. With a renewed source of energy, the youngling sprinted forward, circling the curious discovery. Upon closer inspection, Kanika noticed the tree’s lack of proper foliage, the few leafs it had concentrated on two branches that stuck straight up at either side. It was an old tree, or so she thought, with its bark having been dried by the sun, making it peel and crumble here and there. Yet, nothing came as close as captivating Kanika’s imagination as did the curious stump that slouched forward, almost looking like a head. It had a pointed chin, a single leaf growing precariously on its end, a large piece of bark that stood out like a nose, and a prominent brow knotted in deep thought.
It was fascinating, magical in fact, and part of her wished to reach out and touch the ancient tree. The child climbed the rock, mind set on the task at hand, ignoring the gentle shaking that now disturbed her new friend. As her hands stretched out, desperate to reach at the very least the tree’s ‘chin,’ Kanika was interrupted by a rumbling voice. She froze, spun around to search for the source, but was met by nothing more than endless gardens. She turned, shaking off the sudden surprise, but was quickly replaced by fear as she was met by two enormous, inky-black eyes. The tree, the discovery she made, had sprung into life, it’s enormous frame shaking with each word it gave. Even as terror echoed through the Zabrak’s features, the tree couldn’t help but twist its thin lips into a gentle smile – it was not an uncommon reaction he received.
After a few minutes of silence and awkward apologies by the terrified girl, the creature introduced himself as Shal Umkur, a Neti Master that had called this Temple home for many, many years now. He had knighted countless of Jedi over his lifetime,, many which had lived and passed before his very eyes. He sought a student, another mind he could help prepare for the lifestyle that was the Order, and a single name had stuck out – hers. He had never met her, never seen her train or her forte, but something about that name called to him – and he knew well that Force worked in mysterious ways. He had meditated, he explained, for multiple weeks, before he found the answer he had been seeking – the new apprentice would be the child with that name.
To say Kanika was surprised by Master Shal Umkur’s process would be an understatement; from the youngling’s understanding, the Master chose the student in accordance to their abilities, to a relationship, not nothing, not from a simple idea. But, as ridiculous as the idea seemed, it fascinated the Zabrak at the same time – here could be the one meant to make her a Jedi Knight. But the child felt conflicted, a pang pulling at her chest – what about Javin? For years, they had expected to face the trials side by side, to be each other’s pillar during the entire process; and yet, here she was, about to destroy their plans, to shatter every dream they had talked about.
Kanika asked if she could have a day – a single night to think things through. She knew many masters would have seen her display as disrespectful, and Kanika expected Shal Umkur to believe the same. But he smiled, a slow nod given to the child, motioning to the crooked path that led to the garden’s entrance.
Kanika ran, as fast as her body could take her, away from the pond, away from the Neti, and into the Temple halls once more. Part of her didn’t process as she nearly collided into multiple figures along the way, one Jedi Master even warning her to slow down before she fell. But she couldn’t slow down, she couldn’t stop – there were matters far too pressing for her to simply ‘walk.’ Her feet carried her down the winding Temple corridors and to a more familiar area. It didn’t take long after that for Kanika to come across Javin, who impatiently paced back and forth outside the dining hall waiting for her. Before the male could complain, Kanika pulled him to the side. The Zabrak spoke brightly of what had happened – of who she had seen – and of the offer the ancient tree had approached her with.
Her excitement soon dwindled, however, watching as a frown covered Javin’s face. But even when Javin hated the idea of losing his best friend, he encouraged Kanika to accept the Master’s offer – becoming Jedi had been their dream. Besides, he jested, perhaps it would be for the best – she probably would’ve made a fool of herself when sparring with him. They talked, they ate, and enjoyed each other’s company like they had done so for so many years, knowing well enough that this could be the last meal they shared for a while. The rest of the day was rather uneventful for the young Zabrak, spending her time listening listlessly at the lectures, her mind going back to the gardens again and again. When her attention shifted to present time, however, she always did notice Javin staring at her, only to shift his eyes when her eyes met his.
That night, as Kanika lay awake in bed, a small series of footsteps caught her attention. As the Zabrak pushed herself up to a sitting-up position, she was greeted by a small figure. For a second, Kanika thought about screaming out, but Javin’s voice greeted her ears. He told her to make him room and after a few seconds, she complied. Javin settled next to her, pulling his friend into a light embrace. He told her that she better be careful – things were going to be very different for them now. He stayed quiet for a couple of seconds, before Kanika felt his grip increase. Even if young, the two children were aware of the situation, how everything they knew and would come to know had changed in an instant – by a single phrase.
He didn’t say anything after that – he simply left.
Early the next morning, Kanika followed the path of the previous day and made her way to the gardens once again. Venturing through the all too familiar path, the Zabrak made her way towards the pond where the giant Neti sat dormant. With her hearts threatening to jump out of her chest, Kanika approached the creature again. Once the creature woke from its slumber, his eyes falling on the white girl, she gave a single nod of her head, ‘I would be honored to become your student, my Master Shal Umkur.’
The Ancient Tree’s Song
PADAWANSHIP UNDER SHAL UMKUR
PADAWANSHIP UNDER SHAL UMKUR
Life was strangely similar to the one Kanika knew before. Master Shal Umkur held his lessons in the Temple’s Meditation Garden, finding his sheer size to be rather cumbersome in most of the training rooms – even when given the option to change his size into a more common one, he’d disregard it with a wave of his hands, there was no need for such trivial things. He spoke softly in the lessons, horribly slow as well, a rumbling oddly reminiscent of a drum. There were times Kanika felt a bit exasperated with Master Shal Umkur, especially when the ancient creature would drowse off to sleep – his head falling into his chest, a rolling snore grumbling in his throat. Kanika would simply sigh, sitting by his side, counting the minutes for the Neti to stir awake and resume the lesson once more. There were times, however, were Shal Umkur would become confused, starting the lesson from the very beginning or shifting into an entirely new one. Yet, what irritated Kanika the most was Master Shal Umkur’s insistence of having the Zabrak concentrate in areas of the Force. Kanika protested against the ancient Master’s decision, but her complaints were easily dismissed – she was not ready, Shal Umkur would say, with much to learn stil.
While saber study had come as second nature to the child, the manipulation of the Force could be described as aggravating. It was difficult, stressful, and, frankly, confusing to a fault – she could only wonder how she had managed to survive her lessons as well as she had. But the Master would have none of her complaints. For days, even weeks at a time, the Neti and the Zabrak would study the flow of the Force – starting their meditation early in the morning and ending it late in the afternoons. At times, the Zabrak admitted to even ‘cheating’ a little bit, drowsing in and out of a light sleep. Of course, Shal Umkur would notice Kanika’s actions, simply choosing to flick the back of her head gently. ‘Concentrate,’ he’d warn, to which Kanika would reply with a nod of her head.
Over the months, the confusion and irritation that had crept under the Zabrak’s skin, was replaced by an odd sense of admiration and newly formed patience. The lessons in the Force, though still beyond her mastery, now came easier under Shal Umkur’s patient gaze. Difficult lessons were simplified to fit the Zabrak’s needs, his countless of years of experience giving him the opportunity to do so. While her stubbornness remained, it was now redirected to learning the material Shal Umkur presented her with.
Even with her new found role as a padawan under Master Shal Umkur, Kanika found time to visit her human counterpart whenever she got the chance. Her friendship with Javin, even if there were times the duo didn’t see each other for weeks, never faded as if not even a day had gone by since they saw each other. Master Shal Umkur did not seem to mind, eventually allowing her a couple of hours free so she could go and train with her long time friend. For that, Kanika was greatly thankful. While their world had begun to rapidly change, Javin’s friendship remained the same. When the trials for Javin came, Kanika constantly reassured the young boy that everything would be alright – he was smart and well-prepared, he would pass without a doubt; and he did. Even when the apprentice tournament took place, Kanika, entrusted to a Jedi Knight and previous padawan to Shal Umkur, cheered on the sidelines for her friend. After hours had passed by, the tournament was finally over; Javin had not been victorious, being second-to-last to be eliminated, however, the human soon found himself chosen by an Umbaran Guardian as a padawan. Kanika felt blessed, in a way, to see her friend so happy. But, at the same time, she was frightened. While Shal Umkur was a Jedi Sage, now spending most his time in the Jedi Temple, Javin’s Master was a guardian – someone who faced constant dangers. She begged Javin to listen carefully to his master’s lessons, to prepare for the life he was to have; when they came to the age of fifteen and began to accompany their masters on missions, the Zabrak begged him to heed his Master’s warnings, to be careful. He was her brother and she did not want to lose him.
It was at that age, after many years of training and perfecting her handling of the Force, that Shal Umkur approached her with a curious proposition – to leave Coruscant for a while, head to the world of Ilum. Kanika was curious as to why her master wished to visit such a place and while she questioned his decision, the Zabrak complied. Within a week, the proper preparations had taken place, and the Padawan and her Master, though having had shifted into a more manageable size, left the Jedi Temple. It was the first time Kanika would leave Coruscant, let alone the Jedi Temple, so the youth couldn’t help but be excited at what she would see. She wondered if they were going to a secret mission, like those that many of her peers had already been in, or if they were supposed to help a village in need of aid, but Shal Umkur wasn’t saying and after a few hours, Kanika desisted with her questions.
Ilum was definitely not what the female had in mind. Of course, she had learned of the frozen planet before, but Kanika wasn’t aware that it was completely frozen. Honestly, Kanika cannot remember a time where she felt this sheer amount of cold. It made the Zabrak shudder uncontrollably, teeth clattering against one another, and once the ship landed and the door opened into the frozen landscape, the cold only got worse. There was no solace in the white planet; nothing could appease the wild chills that shook her body or the pain that stretched in her bones. Even her giant Master seemed to take a beating. The sparse foliage that Shal Umkur had, becoming frozen with the wild air – a thin layer of ice visible in his chest plate and back. But while Kanika often commented on how cold it was, her Master seemed unfazed. Without hesitation, the Neti moved forward, telling the Padawan to follow close, there were beasts in this world that would not hesitate to attack if given the opportunity.
Throughout the trip, few words were exchanged between the Master and apprentice, but whether it was because the wind did not allow it or because it was simply too cold for them to move their lips, they did not know. Early signs of frostbite began to show throughout the Zabrak’s body, the tips her fingers beginning to blister and blacken over time; it was necessity that compelled the giant to instruct Kanika in the basics of healing, of using the Force to mend what had been broken. Yet, it wasn’t enough – no matter the healing, the pain was everpresent and quick to return. To appease the younger female, Shal Umkur often asked for them to meditate, to ease their bodies and feel some form of comfort, even if it was momentary. Kanika was thankful at the Master’s instruction, but remained hopeful that whatever compelled Shal Umkur to bring them here would soon be resolved.
For nine days more, the two braved the frozen wasteland, their bodies taking a constant beating under the severe weather, it was then that they saw it. For a second, Kanika believed it to be nothing more than part of the mountain, a face that looked unto them with unwavering eyes. But the longer she stared, the longer the padawan realized that the mountain gave shape to a building of incredible beauty and might, a temple unlike any she had seen before. Glancing to Shal Umkur, Kanika saw the giant smile, and with weary steps they carried onward – their destination now on sight.
The Temple on Ilum was a haven as far as Kanika was concerned – salvation to their weary spirits and pained bodies. Entering the halls, the Zabrak found comforting warmth – something, she believed, she would never come to know. Her boots cracked against the stone floors with every step she took, the leather frozen around the clothing she wore. She followed Shal Umkur quietly, watching as the older male made his way into the mostly silent Temple. A couple of times, Shal Umkur was approached by curious Masters she had never met before, but the conversations never lasted long; there were ‘matters of outmost importance that required immediate tending.’ Kanika glanced curiously at the Neti, but never raised her voice – whatever her Master was talking about, would eventually come to light.
And soon enough it did.
When Kanika saw the Temple stretch into a winding cave, she was unsure of what she should feel. The Zabrak was conflicted in a way – excited to learn that Shal Umkur had decided it was time for the teenager to choose the crystal that would become part of her blade, but horrified to know that intense hours of meditation awaited her upon her return. But as her Master instructed her to go forward, there was little room for protest.
Pained steps carried the Zabrak into the cave, shaking knees threatening to collapse each time she forced herself to move. But the beauty around her, the glittering shapes that beckoned attention, forced her to move. Something was calling her, whispering her name; it was a voice sweeter than anything she had heard before – foreign, surreal, and at the same time, easily understood. She moved to it without hesitation, like a moth to flames. Kanika was unsure of how long she walked, how long she followed the call, how long her eyes searched for the origin, but was only greeted by dancing shadows and gleaming shapes.
Hours came and went as the Zabrak continued to follow the calls deeper into the cavern of crystals. Finally, she saw them, the calling coming louder, stronger than before. They sat in the corner, barely noticeable amongst its brothers and sisters, two milky blue stones. Kanika walked towards the dainty figures, hand reaching towards them, the calling causing a buzzing in her head. White fingers brushed against the crystals’ cold surface, the electricity she felt was immediate. Straightening up, she examined the twin crystals in her hands. Truth be told, they were nothing extraordinary. Their sheen was not impeccable, their shape was imperfect, but as she held them in her hand, everything felt right. Kanika knew it, the voices, the calling; these were the crystals that the Force had chosen for her.
It was months later that it dawned on the young padawan that their trip to the Jedi temple had taken an unnecessarily long time. They should have arrived outside the temple doors, perhaps taken a day if their calculations were wrong, but they took nine days instead. Kanika, approached the ancient master with the question but when waiting for a response, she was met by a chuckle – a chortling laugh that vibrated across her frame.
“You needed the right motivation to learn of Force Healing, and I provided you with it.”
Kanika stood flabbergasted at the Master’s answer, but while every muscle in her body was begging for her to scream, the Zabrak laughed. She laughed alongside Shal Umkur, their voices echoing into the Gardens – at least, she figured, it made for an interesting story.
The Change
MASTER LEVIN CAELUM
MASTER LEVIN CAELUM
It was frustrating to learn that even with the discovery of her crystals, it would be weeks before the padawan could put them to use. They needed to be meditated upon, Shal Umkur explained, to be imbedded by the very essence of her being, by the very Force that ran through her veins. It was a tedious process that required hours upon hours of uninterrupted meditation, spent in solitude by the Zabrak within the garden walls. There were times were frustrated groans would leave Kanika’s lips, hands clapped down against her thighs, the crystals that had been suspended before her face, dropping without apparent noise. But with each apparent defeat the padawan was forced to endure, with it appeared an unusual fire. Where complaints were once expected, Shal Umkur now found persistence in the fifteen year old. Without further encouragement, the Neti master would watch as Kanika would pick up the crystals, beginning the meditation process again.
Months after she began to imbue the crystals, now at the age of sixteen, Kanika found herself ready to begin the construction of her lightsabers. When the previous process had required the Zabrak’s full concentration to the point of becoming dreary, the lightsabers’ assembly was thoroughly exciting to Kanika. The process was slow, requiring hours of research and trial-and-error, but Shal Umkur could see how his padawan was giving her all. For the first time, Shal Umkur would later explain, Kanika was without words, hours spent in silence without question or complaints.
Sadly, the silence that the Master enjoyed during this period was short-lived, taking the padawan a mere month to complete the twin hilts. Once they were ready and in a fully operational state, the nagging began. Kanika, while a brilliant and respectable student was horribly adamant, impossible to sway when a thought captured her mind. The promise of lightsabers had fueled the padawan to ask the Neti to begin their training, to the ancient creature’s amusement. A routine was established not long after that – every morning their greeting included the Zabrak asking if they were to start the lightsaber training soon and every evening the duo parting as the master said that he would have the answer soon. Yet, as the months came and went, Kanika introduced to the healing properties of the Force, the less likely it seemed Shal Umkur had decided on an answer.
The answer finally came at the age of seventeen. Kanika had entered the warm gardens as she had done so for the last five years, following the meandering path to the fishpond. Upon arrival, the familiar sight that had become the giant Neti was gone, replaced instead by a much smaller creature. In size, the tree-like creature was no larger than five feet tall, a few inches shorter than the padawan herself. Kanika was unsure of how to react at the curious creature, shy steps taken in its direction. Kanika considered questioning the being’s presence for a short instant, until the familiar rumbling voice greeted her ears. The padawan nearly jumped in surprise to find the origin of the voice to be none other than the smaller creature. Shal Umkur, a Neti, had a natural ability to shapeshift and after careful consideration, thought it was time to retrieve his saber at long last – it was time for Kanika’s instructions in dueling to commence.
It amazed the Neti master how easily the padawan grasped the concept of lightsaber forms. When the Zabrak had encountered constant difficulties when introduced to deeper areas of the Force, Kanika seemed unmoved with the challenges of swordplay. Kanika’s body reacted naturally to the introduction of Jar'Kai, picking up on the precise form as if she had been exposed to it before. There was unusual precision behind the padawan’s carefully placed blows. In his many years of instruction in the Order, there had been but a handful of students under his care that showed similar potential. Most of these students hand gone on to pursue a career as Guardians or Sentinels, but something told Shal Umkur that Kanika’s future did not lay amongst those ranks.
The Force was beckoning the ancient Master to guide Kanika Shoshan elsewhere. He asked the Force in more than one occasion for guidance, for an answer to his many questions. The young woman, now twenty, was nearing the period when her path would be forged and the Neti was worried for the decision she would take. It was in a dream that he saw them – eyes. Solemn, green, cold, looking at the world with unusual calm; they were eyes that healed, eyes that mended. In them, Shal Umkur figured, it was where the answer lay.
It was mere coincidence that allowed Shal Umkur to pursue the Force’s calling. A name that in recent years had become extensively popular in the lips of the Healers; the student of a student – a child gifted in the Force, one who had revolutionized the Order’s method in healing. The prodigy, the Master had learned, was to hold a lecture in regards to his approaches. Shal Umkur, did not hesitate to encourage the padawan to accompany him to the lecture.
Master Levin Caelum was a Jedi unlike any Kanika had met. The man, in a word, was odd, bordering on eccentric. When he had spoken so easily about the complex workings of the Force and the healing it could give, the man seemed less keen to interact in less formal topics. He was respectful, that, the Zabrak could not deny, greeting Shal Umkur with an odd admiration, but he was otherwise stoic. His words were reserved and solemn, the only present fervor reserved when talking about his duties in the Order. Even in appearance the man was anything but what Kanika would have expected from a Jedi – unkempt hair, with baggy eyes, and scruffiness on his chin; Jedi robes long abandoned, replaced by an outfit more seemingly fitting of a civilian. But, what surprised Kanika most, was the reverence that Shal Umkur returned. He spoke to the younger male as if the Neti himself was speaking to his own master. It was curious, leaving the Zabrak staring at their exchange cautiously, brow furrowed and arms crossed defiantly across her chest.
Through the meeting, the Zabrak’s mind drifted here and there, never paying particular interest at the words the two Masters exchanged. That is, until a single word was spoken, her name. Pale eyes fell upon the two as they spoke of a new padawanship – a new master for her to study under. A master chosen by the Force, Shal Umkur said, a sword for the Order, Master Caelum added. And all the young woman could manage was to stare perplexed. Truth be told, Kanika was beyond confused. It was uncommon for Jedi to change students save under extreme circumstances, which, she thought, did not include them. But even as she questioned their decision, partially considering the Masters were making a mistake, there was little that could be done or said.
Preparations began to take place.
Life seemed to change in an instant for the young Zabrak. The quiet monotony she had come to love and enjoy over the course of the years was shattered. Her padawanship under Shal Umkur had ended, and now she found herself learning under the curious master, Levin Caelum. Yet, what seemed to change the most in Kanika Shoshan’s life was her friendship with Javin.
Even as their training had often made it difficult for the two padawans to spend time together, their friendship had endured, becoming progressively stronger as the years went by. Even when missions tore them away for months at a time, making communication impossible between the two, upon their reunion, their friendship would continue as if they merely saw each other a day previous. It was a friendship that Kanika had come to lean upon in times of difficulty and doubt, one which time and time again directed her into the right path.
Kanika and Javin knew one another like the back of their hand – there was nothing they didn’t know about the other. So, when the Zabrak stumbled upon the human male late one morning, she immediately knew something was not right. The bright remarks and friendly jokes that they often exchanged were lacking, replaced instead by serious eyes and a knotted brow. The male was unable to see her in the face, shifting nervously and keeping his head low.
Javin was leaving Coruscant.
No parting words were breathed as Kanika and Javin stood side by side – no glances, no hugs, there was only a simple touch. It was miniscule, easily missed; yet it was the strongest gesture the friends ever exchanged. With their bodies close, hands reached instinctively for each other – a desperate attempt to keep some sense of normalcy in their tumultuous lives. Limbs brushed against one another, his hand cold against her own. Their pinkies were laced, their grip slack but desperate, unlike anything she had ever felt before. The gesture lasted an instant, destroyed as quickly as it had come. Two footsteps is all it took to pull the friends apart. Fingers slacked, dropped to the Zabrak’s side, gray eyes watching Javin disappear into the Temple. He left later that evening, a ship bound to the Force knew where. Even as memories became muddled over time, a series of flashing images without beginning or end, the memory of his phantom touch was forever present. In fact, in times of great tension, the Zabrak reaches instinctively to her hand to search for the security of his touch.
There are times that Kanika lays awake at night remembering how she and Javin parted their ways. They were torn by the Galaxy’s uncertainty, their duties leading them in different paths. For Javin, arduous battles and difficulties awaited his future, and, for Kanika, a new master under Levin Caelum.
