Faron is one of the twin cities on Nancora alongside Axio, breaking up the planet's scarred surface with their presence. Originally existing in the form of underground shelters, the city was built up slowly — layer by layer — until it became a metropolis so large that it can be clearly seen from orbit. In order to maintain an organized infrastructure, the city itself is separated into districts based on the disc-like, concentric blocks that make up its design.

The outer district is the largest of these. Here, the buildings form alleys and streets that criss-cross as they either run straight towards the center of Faron or curve along its circumference. The complexes found here are almost mathematical in design. Towers built upon towers, they all link together like geometric puzzle pieces with harsh lines and angles in lieu of softer edges. Having to deal with the elements, the durasteel constructs appear weathered and worn, but maintain a bright coloring to reflect as much light as possible and reduce its thermal conversion.

Industry thrives in Faron, and its districts embody this. In the outer district, shops meet with living centers and the lines between them blur. An apartment cluster appears much the same as a grand complex containing a myriad of speeders or other such technological constructions. Power relays, the key to keeping the city functioning in its entirely, are staggered along the streets and each level. Through redundancy, the system prevents the loss of a single relay from crippling it. The citizens flood the district at ground level, marching with haste towards their destinations while the skylanes flicker with activity high above.

In Faron's outer district, the thriving metropolis can be seen in all its many facets, but also at its most vulnerable.

The sound of air traffic zooming above was deafening, an all too familiar sound to the citizens of Faron. Droid chatter, patrons flocking to shops, the city life. Gui felt right at home. While he may have been born on New Tython, much of his adolescent life was spent surviving in the streets of Nar Shaddaa. Nancora was strangely comforting in comparison to the rolling plains of Kiast which were much too quiet for his liking.

"You there, boy!" a Corellian shouted. You could tell he was Corellian. Not by his dress or appearance, but by his cadence. "You interested in some rare goods?" The man eyed Gui who was tucked away inside a deep hooded robe. The sentinel had the look of someone who had seen some 'things'

"How rare?" Gui smirked, he enjoyed the dance of barters. Afterall it would have to be a trade, his credits were locked away with Barry on his ship.

"If he's not, I am," a voice fell upon them.

Gui snapped his head towards the voice and his assumption was correct. The traveling words fell, indeed. From a towering being covered in fur. A being he instantly recognized. What's he doing here?

"Trying to one up me, Tassk?" Gui flashed his trademark smile.

The Togorian merely nod in reply. His mane was as magnificent as his stature. Clan Odan-Urr was lucky to have him, even if he was still green.

"Look, who wants it?" the vendor sighed, "I don't have all day."

"We don't even know what it is, bub." Gui replied, flattening his palms to the murky sky as he shrugged.

The rough looking Corellian leaned in and beckoned them closer to his stand. "Some say it’s a relic from the Jedi Order. Others say it is, what were they called?" The man pondered with a whisper, "A Sith trinket?"

This immediately captured Gui's attention. Jedi artifacts were his forte, but something of Sith origin could be dangerous, especially in the hands of a Journeyman.

"Why don't you let me see it, boss?" Gui spoke, careful not to reveal that he knew about such things.

"I want it," the Togorian put it bluntly.

"Easy, big guy." Gui snapped, "This could be more than you can chew."

"How do you know how much I can chew?" The feline licked his lips.

Gui laughed inwardly and saw opportunity. Perhaps a chance to teach?

"I'll fight ya for it." Gui smiled. He challenged the Togorian and honor demanded a response.

Tassk's eyes shifted from the vendor to his Rollmaster. Straightening with pride, he couldn't refuse.

"Very well, Master Sol," the beast complied, clawing his way to the hilt nestled behind a layer of robes.

The ignition of the Togorian's blade caused the Corellian vendor to flinch but Gui simply angled his head and flicked his eyes upward. Tassk’s slit pupils jolted away, towards Gui's persuasive gesturing, for only a second.

To be thrown off his game so early was the sign of a novice, but it was all the time the Kiffar would need as he instantly capitalized on the lapse in concentration. Flashing his wrist, a lightsaber hilt slid into his gloved palm from a customized bracer and as quickly as the Togorian looked away, Gui was rotating on his heels. Tassk felt motion in the Force and swept his eyes back to the wily teenager who had finally ignited his own blade mid-spin and unleashed a flurry of blinding strikes.

A growl erupted from the Togorian as he managed to block the incoming onslaught with an effort he had never needed before. Gui snaked his blade with the grace of a Hawk-Bat in flight. His movements were seamless as he circled, utilizing every part of his body. Mouth agape, the Corellian grabbed his trinket and ducked behind the counter. He had no idea the mythos of the Jedi would reveal itself in front of his very eyes. The stories were true!

Gui was a swirling maelstrom of amber light, berating Tassk’s defenses as he hastily swung his blade from one guard position to another. The blade was bearing down on Tassk, a sudden storm of golden lightning, striking blow after blow. He was in over his head, and he had to slow things down.

Squeezing the grip of his saber, Tassk sent the Force flowing through his arms, giving him a well needed boost. He swung his saber, meeting Gui’s incoming strike and responded with a lunge of his own. The Kiffar leaned back just in time, the tip of the blade inches from his face. Quickly batting the blade aside, Tassk and Gui resumed their clash, a balanced match for now.

Tassk had evened the odds, but not for long. His defenses failing, he acted on instinct alone. Striking out in a desperate offensive, Tassk lunged forward in an attempt to rip Gui’s throat out with his powerful jaws.

Twisting his lean body away, Gui backed off as the duelists stared each other down. “What was that?” Gui demanded. “Did you run out of catnip?” he mocked.

In response, Tassk simply reached across his body, unclasping the heavy outer robes that adorned him. Letting them fall to the ground, he inhaled the wretched, smog filled air. “I’ve been following leads on this artifact for weeks. I will have it, and I will not stand to see you snatch it from my grasp, scavenger.”

“Master Sol, you are renowned amongst Odan-Urr, and you have proven yourself many times over. Are you so eager to take that opportunity from others?” Tassk’s face was a solemn mask, but his words came from deep within.

“Look, we can have a heart-to-heart about it some other time, but right now, you’re going to leave here while I take the artifact. Step aside.” Gui’s voice was quiet. The threat didn’t need to be spoken any louder.

“That’s not going to happen.” As Tassk spoke, he raised his blade, holding it upright next to his chest. As his arms prepared for combat, he breathed in, deeply. The musculature in his bare chest rippled underneath the bright orange fur that covered it. His feet shifted, widening their stance. His legs bent, preparing for impact. His eyes narrowed, watching, waiting.

Across the street, the much shorter teen filled the same space as the towering Togorian with attitude alone. His arms raised, his left reached back with the blade, the right a counterbalance out front. The mechanical pieces all across his body slid together, a seamless defense of broken droids. His knees bent, as his eyes looked around.

Alighting upon a nearby balcony, the tension was broken. Augmented by a force greater than either of them, the Kiffar soared through the air, executing the plan he had put together moments before. Landing upon the balcony momentarily, he kicked off of it with fluid movements, closing upon his target.

Tassk saw the burst of movement, and watched in awe. From above, there was a silhouette in the harsh light reflected by the factories surrounding them. All Tassk saw was the outline of an assassin droid closing in for the kill, an efficient killer wielding a golden blade.

The figure landed next to him, Sol carrying an apathetic look upon his face. The radiant weapon was striking at him with blinding speed, its wielder rolling and twirling with lithe grace. Tassk fought, he guarded, he parried, but it wasn’t enough. Gui was fast, so terribly fast.

His blade a golden blur, they both saw the outcome. Tassk was losing ground, losing hope, and losing this fight. Before he could process it, Gui’s hand had shot out, and Tassk felt dread spread through him. Not just dread, but a disturbing tingling feeling, as he could no longer move a muscle.

Tassk was frozen in front of Gui. He felt it fading fast, but there was plenty of time for the scrapper. Gui’s face remained impartial as he spoke. “It’s for your own good.” He thrusted his hand forward again and sent Tassk flying down the road. From where he was standing far away, Gui heard the harsh impact. The Kiffar teen turned away, taking a deep breath. His arms and legs were aching, but now that things were taken care of with Tassk, he had other matters to attend to.

Taking steps towards the vendor, Gui resolved that Tassk would recover well enough and things would be fine, when he heard a voice yell out behind him.

“Sol! I’m not finished with you!”

Why were things always so difficult? Gui pondered as the growling voice from behind caused the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end.

He could feel the slow creep of frustration and sensed its transition into anger as he turned.

"Careful," Gui spoke as a wave of caution washed over his boyish features.

Tassk snarled and his hand seemed to thicken as it clenched the hilt in his hand, still thrumming with energy.

"Your desire is turning into obsession, I'm afraid," came the soft lesson the Rollmaster intended to teach.

"Fear is the path to the Dark Side," the Togorian's jaws snapped.

"Fear is necessary for survival." Gui reflected on his own lessons; it was an emotion Xirini, his master, taught him to rely on, "But when it turns into anger," he said as he leveled his blade at the Hunter, "only suffering will you find."

Tassk, with a roar, bounded forward and unleashed an untrained swing that was wild and not covered by his basic form. Unfortunately for Tassk, it left an opening in his guard. Gui, the veteran, swiveled his wrist and clipped the flesh of Tassk's upper arm as his strike clearly missed its mark. The smell of singed hair and cauterized flesh swept into the polluted air and tickled the Peacekeeper's nose.

*"SsSsss"*entered a hiss of pain. Nothing about the encounter calmed the Togorian's mind as he was pushed further to his breaking point.

"What ya gonna do with that anger of yours, friend?" Gui returned to his normal jovial self as he flashed through the maneuver and began to pace back and forth.

Animalistic tendencies provoked Tassk to be relentless as he recoiled and lunged again. As he did, Gui expected one move, reacting in the moment as he swept his blade horizontally. But like all good misdirections, he encountered another as Tassk ducked the blade and gripped an ankle. The Kiffar's confidence was immediately silenced as he was ripped from his feet. With instinct, he tucked his arms and braced for impact but was not expecting the heavy kick that followed as it smashed into his ribs causing him to roll several feet.

A rush of air flooded Gui's lungs as he caught the breath that escaped him and instantly tried to hush the searing pain of his screaming ribcage. It was a vain attempt. The feline was determined as his massive body was propelled forward by legs hardened by martial conflict. His clawed hand swept downward but effort contorted his face as those very muscles began to stiffen and his arm struggled to fall.

Always can rely on you, Gui thought in reference to the Force as the lapse in speed allowed him to push away.

Beneath his paw, Gui scrambled out of the way. As Tassk broke free, his paw slammed down right where the scrapper had been moments before. Gui continued his retreat, backing away down the street.

Raising his head, Tassk looked towards Gui. He saw the teen standing ready, but his legs were straight, his blade low, and his eyes tired. Looking at the small figure, he realized all of the same could be said about him. They were both so similar, yet they were both fighting. Why can’t he just see reason? Why can’t he trust me to do anything?

Breathing deep, Tassk let his anger shift to the backburner and addressed his opponent. “Sol, just let me take it, just give me a shot.” Tassk pleaded with him, desperation in his voice. Just one shot, c’mon, just let me.

“I’ve told you, Tassk, that’s not happening. If you want a shot, just go train at Praxeum, just study your readings and practice your form,” he responded. Why can’t you understand? This isn’t a toy!

“Gui, I’m getting that artifact. I don’t want to fight you, but you’re not giving me a choice here!” Tassk’s desperation was rising, and with it his barriers of self-control falling.

“I could say the same thing to you,” said the cheeky teen, leveling his blade. “This is a dangerous artifact and I can’t let you anywhere near it.”

Tassk felt his bones aching, his muscles sore. Now isn’t the time for weakness, I can’t throw away this opportunity. This is my shot.

Letting out a cry of exertion, Tassk hurled his saber at Gui, guiding it with the Force. As it spun forward, Tassk sprinted towards it, towards Gui. As the Jedi batted away the blade, Tassk called it back to his hand, and followed with an uppercut. As Gui met Tassk, their blades were locked above their chests, both straining to gain the upper hand. Soon Tassk had begun to push Gui back through sheer strength.

Breaking through Gui’s guard, Tassk followed up with a firm backhanded strike across Gui’s face. As Gui recoiled away, Tassk propelled himself with his back leg, ramming into Gui with his shoulder, sending them both to the ground. As they both fell, their sabers were knocked out of their hands, leaving nothing but grit to determine the outcome.

Rolling around on the street with a crowd forming around them, they both struggled to get on top. Nimble Gui was above Tassk, and brought down a metal plated fist deep into Tassk’s soft cheek. Letting out a yowl of pain, Tassk could do nothing against the next fist that connected with his eye.

A roar escaped from Tassk as he dodged the next blow, burying his teeth into Gui’s wrist. With vision in only one eye, Tassk rolled on top and punched his assailant in the nose, hearing the sickening crack. As he rose his fist once more, Gui kneed Tassk in the side, causing them both to scuttle away.

Grabbing onto a nearby market stand, Tassk pulled himself up, leaning heavily on it. Gasping for breath, he saw Gui doing the same. Both glared at each other, neither ready to clash again. Taking a few shaky steps, Tassk felt a jolt of pain where Gui had kneed him, and fell to a knee. Looking through his one good eye, Tassk jabbed a finger out at Gui, and spat out a promise. “I will not hesitate, I will not stop, I will not falter in my pursuit! I will retrieve the artifact, go to Kiast, and present it before my master! I am not going to let you hold me back, Gui! Never again am I going to be infantilized by you or anyone like you!”

A heaviness fell upon Gui's shoulders as he felt the weight of the Hunter's words. Tassk was so close to becoming a Knight, so close to becoming something greater. However, his potential was outshined by his impatience, his eagerness to please, and his anger.

Gui clenched his fist and his crimson essence spurted from the puncture holes in his wrist. His deep inhalation through a bleeding nose carried a calming wave as well as a numbing sensation that flooded his extremities, his core, and his mind. Like the healing waters of the thousand fountains in Coruscant's old temple, the Force washed over him.

Latching onto the hilt of his lightsaber with tendrils of the Living Force, the renegade warrior hesitated to call it back. He, too, had struggled to learn the importance of patience. He was once naive and eager to please. That all changed when many of his friends were laid to waste and smothered beneath the bloodied fist of Lord Pravus.

The younglings depended on him then, on the streets of Nar Shaddaa, and they depended on him now. The Rollmaster was more than a teenage Jedi. He was a presence, a teacher, and a friend to those who felt alone in the Galaxy. To those trying to let their light shimmer like the stars.

"I won't give up on you, Tassk. This is for your own good." The Kiffar also made a promise to protect, to serve, to never abandon.

Tassk huffed and puffed in frustration, failing to see the ripples of his actions. There was no hope or glory in his conquest. No victory. The beast caught his breath and seethed with anger as he stood to his feet.

The peacekeeper's hilt was vibrating with energy in the gutter, trembling in the presence of the Force.

"IT'S MINE!" Tassk roared as he once again went airborne. His leap wasn't as powerful as before. He landed short and wildly swung his clawed hand towards Gui's soft flesh. The Kiffar ducked the attack, then another, and another. The missed strikes made Tassk burn with rage as it bubbled up from his belly. His emotions were raw and untamed in that moment. Like a predator attempting to snatch its elusive prey, Tassk chased his nimble target. But even as Gui twisted and spun, rotated behind and to the side of Tassk, he was able to strike at any moment. He chose not to. His fists had done enough.

Gui allowed his opponent’s emotions to char his soul, to stain his mind. He would need to control his anger or suffer the consequences.

The hilt continued to shutter.

Tassk snarled as his anger reached its peak and with an outstretched hand, the Force manifested and crackled from his fingertips like an electric web. Gui slipped to the right as the current met with a large neon light. Overcharged by the fury, it burst into a shower of fluorescent sparks that rained down into the gritty street.

As Adroc unleashed his anger into his channeled onslaught, Gui rolled away, finally the hilt of his saber slipped from the gutter and ignited. Like the conductor of an orchestra, Gui waved his hand and flexed his wrist, causing his blade to rotate. It fanned towards Tassk and clipped him behind his left knee as it passed by, nestling into Gui's awaiting palm at last.

The Togorian roared and leaned to the side while in one fluid motion Gui spun, whipping his blade overhead to misdirect and as Tassk called his own weapon back to his hand it fell short. Gui's blade was quicker than Tassk's reflexes as his golden beam sliced shallow, into his upper right thigh, felling the beast. All concentration had been broken as Tassk's hilt flipped and rolled against duracrete, never reaching its now kneeling and writhing master.

Gui's blade hissed as it slithered back into its cylindrical home. He was disappointed. Adopted into the order, Gui viewed the members of Odan-Urr as family. Emotion often carried betrayal. He wasn't angry.

"Your physical wounds are gonna heal," Gui spoke softly. "But what about your mental wounds?" Gui flashed his trademarked smile once more. "Go ahead, take the artifact, take what you desired more than kinship."

Tassk's seething began to subside as he looked to the vendor who was still holding the trinket.

"Besides," Gui continued, "It's not even real."

Gui looked on, his emerald eyes flicked to and fro and his disengaged hilt was held off to the side; ready to spring into action in a moment's notice.

“Not real. It’s not real.” Tassk’s brow was knitted, as Gui’s words rattled around his head. Nothing made sense now, what was he even doing here? Would Gui forgive him? Would he forgive himself?

“Gui, when. When did you know?” Tassk asked, his face forlorn. He looked deep into Gui’s green eyes, wondering, pleading for an answer.

“From the beginning. All that has happened here was brought about by your choice, your choice to pursue nothing.” Gui looked down at Tassk, a miserable figure in the clutches of despair, but at his words Tassk’s back straightened and a fire returned to his eyes.

“My choice? I was hunting this artifact long before you even knew it existed! I thought I was doing something useful, then you showed up ready to take it! I didn’t want to fight you, you wanted to fight me!” Tassk rose up his fists clenched as he hurled his accusations at Gui, his words ringing with painful truth for the Kiffar.

“You’re the one who let me believe it was real, you’re the one who goaded me on, you’re the one who wanted me to fight until I couldn’t think straight!” As Tassk’s anger kept rising, so did he. He was at his full height and in Gui’s face, almost a foot and a half taller. He restrained himself physically, but he wasn’t going to let this slide, let Gui put him through this for no reason.

“I was there first, then you came in ready to take it. You snooze, you lose, Tassk. Besides, it would be safer in my hands,” Gui said. The Togorian couldn’t let this go, couldn’t just leave this wreck be.

“Safe, right. Because trusting people is beyond you. Do you Rollmasters usually challenge your recruits to lethal duels? Is that just a part of the initiation I forgot about?” Tassk asked, angered at Gui’s ignorance of his mistakes. Angered at his tunnel vision only on Tassk’s failures.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t fought people before, Tassk. If I recall you don’t exactly shy away from combat training on Praxeum. Were you really upset to put that to use?” Gui asked, unable to not mess with the menacing Togorian. Tassk needed a reality check, and Gui was there to provide it.

“That’s different. I prepare for the worst, so I am ready when I’m needed. I’m not training so I can fight my clanmates! I’m not training to almost kill you! I’m training to protect, not hurt, but that doesn’t make a difference to you when all you want is a fight.” Tassk wasn’t letting Gui demean him like this, to twist things until he was the white knight, the perfect leader, role model, and teacher.

“Protecting what, your dignity? I don’t recall lightning being a defensive ability, Tassk. Look, it’s best we move on, put this behind us. You’re upset, give your wounds time to heal. Just leave it, Tassk.” Gui’s voice was flat, serious, and truthful. It was time for Tassk to let these things be, he clearly could argue all day, but they didn’t need an argument. They needed time, space.

“I’ll leave it. I’ll leave all of it,” Turning away, Tassk began walking away, having had enough for one day. “Don’t talk to me until you can see both sides of the argument, not just your perfection and my shortcomings.”

Tassk strode off through the crowds of Faron City, leaving Gui standing in the middle of the clearing they had created, alone and being gawked at by their spectators, with Tassk’s words fresh in his mind. Sighing, Gui walked his own way, wondering what he could have done to prevent that. As they left, life returned to normal in Faron City, with the bustling streets full once more. All was normal, except for the bond of two people, shattered on the unforgiving streets.