Chapter Three (Continued): The Duel's Conclusion
Kyp felt the searing heat of Kyle's blade and had mere fractions of a second to react. Instinct kicked in.
He reached into the Force, channeling it through his body, flooding his limbs with speed. He twisted sideways, dodging just as Kyle's blade whistled past where his ribs had been.
He had avoided the strike—but just barely.
Kyle didn't let up.
Matching Kyp's speed with his own Force-enhanced acceleration, he pressed forward, unleashing a flurry of precise stabbing strikes.
Kyp twisted and pivoted, barely deflecting or dodging the attacks. He knew—if Kyle had truly meant to hit him, he wouldn't have missed.
This wasn't an attempt to end the duel.
It was a test.
Kyle was holding back, giving Kyp room to recover and counter—an unspoken acknowledgment that this was still a "friendly" spar.
Kyp wasn't about to waste the opportunity.
With a Force-assisted backward leap, he landed in a low crouch, resetting his stance. He shifted into a guarded Medium Style, adjusting into a defensive posture, waiting for Kyle to make the next move.
Kyle took note.
Kyp was expecting him to attack.
He could end this match right now, forcing Kyp into a purely reactive state until he slipped up—but Kyle knew better. If he finished the fight too quickly, Kyp would demand a rematch, and this would turn into an all-day event.
So, instead of continuing with Fast Style, Kyle switched to Strong Style.
Summoning the Force, he propelled himself forward in a burst of speed, crossing the distance between them instantly.
Then, he attacked.
Kyle's strikes came hard and heavy, each one hammering against Kyp's defenses.
Kyp held out—for a time—meeting Kyle's blade with carefully timed blocks and evasions, redirecting momentum instead of taking the full impact.
But Kyle wasn't just attacking with technique.
He was attacking with raw power.
And then—Kyle pressed his advantage.
He tapped deeper into the Force, augmenting his strength to its peak, raising his saber high for an overhead strike—meant to disarm, not wound, but end the duel definitively.
The blade came down—
But Kyp reacted. Instantly.
Using the Force, he launched himself into a lateral leap, barely escaping as Kyle's saber carved through the empty air where he had just been.
Kyp landed in an awkward crouch, his balance off-center. He needed a second to right himself—
But Kyle didn't give it to him.
The moment Kyp touched down, Kyle was already airborne, leaping after him.
Before Kyp could react, Kyle's lightsaber hovered inches from his lower body—a clear kill zone had this been real combat.
Kyle exhaled, his stance firm.
"Do you yield, or do you want to keep going?"
Kyp knew the answer.
If he continued, he'd end up with more than just bruises and minor burns. Kyle had him completely outmaneuvered, and at this rate, he wouldn't be walking comfortably for a while.
But…
How often did he get a real challenge at the Praxeum?
Most Jedi didn't spar as much as he liked. Luke and Mara had their own lives outside of teaching. Mara enjoyed a good duel, but not as often as Kyp, and Luke preferred to spend his time anywhere but in the training circle.
This was his best shot.
So he tried.
One last desperate move.
Kyp twisted, pushing off the ground, attempting a last-ditch counterattack—
Kyle saw it coming.
Stopped him dead in his tracks.
Kyle was done with the fight.
His blade hovered motionless, ready to counter any last-second foolishness.
Kyp held his ground for a moment, then let out a breath. He knew when he was beaten.
"I yield."
Kyle hit the thumb switch and deactivated his lightsaber. Extending a hand, he offered Kyp assistance.
Kyp took it, pulling himself up. As he dusted himself off, a familiar voice echoed across the courtyard.
"Glad to see you've been keeping up your training, Kyle. And Kyp—what have I told you about jumping fellow visiting Jedi?"
Luke Skywalker.
His voice carried the tone of mild disapproval, but there was a trace of amusement beneath it.
Kyp sighed. "Sorry, Master Skywalker."
Kyle, meanwhile, considered his options.
He could run—make a break for the Raven's Claw before Luke dragged him into Jedi business.
Or he could try to disappear—find a quiet corner, wait until Luke lost interest.
Neither option would work.
Kyle sighed, reluctantly turning to face Luke, who had approached with a small, knowing smile.
"What brings you and Jan to the Praxeum, Kyle?"
Kyle recognized that tone.
Luke already knew there was a reason. Kyle never came to Yavin IV unless he had a specific purpose. And if it had anything to do with what Luke had sensed in the Force, there was a chance he could get Kyle and Jan to investigate.
Kyle could sense it—Luke had something on his mind.
But he also knew Luke wouldn't ask outright.
Not until Kyle explained himself first.
So, he decided to get it over with.
"After Jan and I finished a mission, I was thinking about where to take us for vacation. But when I got frustrated, I meditated—and suddenly, I felt the Force calling me to Coruscant.
For what reason? I don't know."
Kyle glanced toward Jan. "She wanted me to check in with you first—to see if you had any insight."
Luke listened carefully, nodding, his expression unreadable.
Then, he spoke.
"You're not the only one who's felt that pull, Kyle."
Kyle raised an eyebrow. "So you've sensed it too?"
Luke nodded.
"Yes. But my duties here at the Praxeum take priority. Unless something threatens my family directly, I can't afford to leave right now.
But if you're feeling it too, then maybe you and Jan are meant to follow it."
A Dinner Discussion:
Three Hours Later: The Dinner Discussion
Kyle, Jan, Luke, and Mara sat at a table inside one of the Praxeum's communal halls. The air smelled of rich spices, thanks to the meal Jan had expertly whipped up.
Luke, enjoying his second serving, gave Jan an appreciative nod. "This is fantastic. Where did you learn to cook like this?"
Jan smirked. "You travel with Kyle long enough, you learn how to make decent food out of whatever's available."
Mara, intrigued, glanced between them. "You have to give me the recipe. Luke looks happier eating this than he does meditating."
Kyle chuckled. "It's the first time I've seen him enjoy something that isn't Jedi philosophy."
Luke shook his head but didn't argue. "It's nice to have a meal without interruptions."
The conversation eventually turned serious as they discussed Kyle's Force calling to Coruscant.
Luke had received few reports of anything significant happening, but even with limited information, it was clear—something was pulling Kyle there.
As their discussion wound down, Kyle sighed. "Alright. Jan and I will head to Coruscant and figure out what's going on."
Luke nodded. "Be careful. Whatever this is, the Force has called you both for a reason."
Departure: A Final Exchange
As Kyle and Jan prepared to leave, Luke followed them to the Raven's Claw.
Jan was already aboard, securing the navicomputer, when Luke suddenly called out.
"Kyle, catch!"
Without thinking, Kyle turned—and his hand shot out instinctively, catching a small metal object.
Kyle looked down.
A Jedi holocron.
He glanced up at Luke, raising an eyebrow. "What's this for?"
Luke smiled faintly. "A precaution. If you're being called to Coruscant, I have a feeling you might need it."
Kyle studied the holocron for a moment before slipping it into his belt.
"Thanks, Luke. Hopefully, I won't."
But deep down, he suspected he would.
With that, he turned, stepping onto the Raven's Claw as the boarding ramp sealed shut behind him.
Destination: Coruscant.