Training under Yoda was unlike anything Kai had ever experienced. The small master demanded patience, humility, and adaptability—but never in rigid ways. Yoda seemed far more interested in Kai discovering himself through the Force than adhering to ancient dogma.
One afternoon, after a long session of movement and meditation, Kai found himself sitting cross-legged in the clearing, his saber across his lap. Sweat slicked his brow, but his mind was sharper than ever.
"There's something else," Kai said, looking thoughtfully at the ground. "When I focus... when I reach out through objects... I can see their pasts. Their histories. It's easier for me than most things. Like it's... natural."
"Psychometry," Yoda said, his ears perking with interest. "Rare, that gift is. Dangerous too, if untrained."
Kai nodded. "It helped me uncover parts of who I am. I feel like it's tied to what I'm meant to do."
Yoda leaned on his cane, considering him. "Guide you, it can. Deceive you, it can too. But if balanced you stay... powerful ally, it becomes."
Kai smiled faintly, grateful for the acknowledgment. "In combat too... I've been thinking. Soresu feels like wearing armor too heavy for me. Defensive, but... not alive."
"Hmm," Yoda mused, nodding. "Not rigid, your spirit is. Quick it moves, flowing with the Force."
Kai continued, excitement building. "Ataru—the way it moves, leaps, flows—that seems closer to what I feel. But Niman too... the balance between saber and Force... it feels right for me. Less about perfection in one form. More... adaptable."
Yoda's eyes gleamed with approval. "Yes. Ataru—agile, kinetic. Draws from strength and speed. But Niman—harmony between disciplines. Flow, not force."
The old master slowly circled him as he spoke. "No straight line your path is. Adaptable you must be. Both forms, you will learn. And more."
He raised his hand, and a stone nearby lifted gently into the air without so much as a ripple in the Force.
"Telekinesis... Sense... Influence. These, teach you, I will. Essential, they are."
Kai watched the stone float, feeling the Force swirling around it, shaping it like unseen hands.
"But know this," Yoda added, voice growing serious. "Jedi... tradition... hmmm. Difficult for you, it would be."
Kai lowered his head slightly. He had known this deep down. Discipline and rules were not the natural flow of his spirit.
"And that... matters not," Yoda finished, surprising him.
Kai looked up, meeting Yoda's gaze.
"The galaxy... changed, it has. Jedi, as they were... no more. New way, perhaps, needed it is." Yoda gave a tiny, almost sad smile. "Be who you are, you must. With wisdom. With heart. Not by rote."
The weight of expectation lifted from Kai's shoulders again—another invisible burden he hadn't realized he carried.
"I'll do my best," Kai said, voice quiet but sure.
"More than enough, that is," Yoda replied, tapping his cane on the ground.
The days that followed were grueling but exhilarating.
Yoda drilled him in Ataru's movements: the acrobatics, the speed, the power of swift, decisive strikes. He taught Kai to enhance his agility through the Force, to leap higher, strike faster, and endure longer.
In the evenings, they practiced Niman—blending saber and Force seamlessly, learning to transition mid-combat between telekinesis, influence, and the blade.
Kai's affinity for psychometry became a meditation tool as well; Yoda encouraged him to refine it, to seek clarity rather than just raw impressions.
Through it all, the small green master never asked him to deny who he was.
Instead, he helped Kai build something entirely his own.
A month passed on Dagobah, the days blending into one another in the endless mist, the quiet drip of water, and the calls of unseen creatures in the thick swamp beyond. Yet for Kai, each day carved something new into him—strength, understanding, purpose.
He and Yoda had developed a strange bond, built not on tradition, but on a shared understanding of survival, resilience, and something almost mischievous beneath the surface. Yoda's humor, dry and unexpected, often disarmed Kai, even in the middle of grueling exercises. Kai, to his own annoyance, caught himself slipping into Yoda's odd speech patterns when he thought too quickly—an unconscious mimicry he was trying desperately to shake.
Still, the progress was undeniable.
His connection to the Force was stronger, more fluid. He no longer had to reach for it—it moved with him, through him. His lightsaber skills with Ataru and Niman grew sharper, the blade becoming less a tool and more an extension of himself. Psychometry, once an occasional, jarring experience, had become something he could ease into with controlled meditation.
And Yoda, watching all this, knew it was time.
One misty morning, as Kai finished balancing atop a narrow, twisting root while juggling three stones with the Force, Yoda sat quietly by the fire, his eyes half-closed in thought.
As Kai leapt lightly down, wiping sweat from his brow, Yoda spoke without looking up.
"Prepared, you have become. Stronger, yes. Wiser, perhaps."
Kai cocked an eyebrow, catching the tone. "But?"
A small, toothy smile crept over Yoda's face. "A test, there is."
Kai's shoulders straightened instinctively. He had been expecting this, dreading it even.
Yoda finally opened his eyes fully, pinning him with a gaze that felt heavy despite the old master's diminutive size.
"Face yourself, you must. Your fear, your anger, your hope. In the Force, shown to you, it will be."
Kai nodded slowly, sensing the gravity of the moment. This was no sparring match, no simple feat of strength or agility. This was something deeper—something that would demand everything he had gained and challenge everything he still hid.
"Where?" he asked simply.
Yoda pointed with his gnarled cane, out into the mist-shrouded jungle. "There. A place strong with the dark side, it is. Natural, it became. Not evil itself... but a mirror, hmmm. Show you, it will."
Kai felt a faint chill brush over his skin.
He glanced toward where Yoda pointed, mist curling and twisting unnaturally among the trees.
A place of power.
A place of trial.
And deep down, Kai knew—if he was ever to truly step forward, to truly shape his own path through the Force—he had to walk into that mist and face whatever waited for him there.
He turned back to Yoda, who simply nodded once, slowly.
"Ready or not... ready you must become."
Kai exhaled slowly, steadying himself.
Without another word, he clipped his lightsaber to his belt and started forward, into the twisting shadows.