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Borleias


Tarrian Skywalker

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The pale-green eyes turned inwards and her lips formed silent words as Armiena walked herself through one of the calming exercises that her mother had taught her. Her panic--this attack--was not rational. Even without stretching her senses outward, the Alderaanian could feel that she was surrounded by Force-Sensitives, many of whom were familiar to her. Even if she couldn’t see their faces or identify their Force-presence, her mother worked with some of the best trackers and operatives in the galaxy; if the old Miraluka trusted a location to be secure… then it was secure. This all flew in the face of criss-crossed neural circuitry, unfortunately, and as Darex brought the shaking woman back to her feet, she continued the exercises to focus her mind on the present and concrete.

 

”Borleias--Blackmoon--Jedi Dojo--tropics--beaches--trained here--Knighted here…” was the sequence that Armiena repeated to herself several times, the words only discernible through lip-reading. The drill helped somewhat--helped to focus her mind on the present pains and joys, rather than hypothetical anxieties and disastrous what ifs that kept springing to mind. Even if focusing on everything she knew of this beloved world did nothing for the cold, clammy sweats breaking out over her entire body, her heart rate slowed, the pulsing darkness around the edges of her vision faded and the sense of imminent disaster diminished. She was able to focus, at least, on Darex’s concerned expression and she hesitated.

 

For a moment, it seemed, he was worried, perhaps even afraid for her or of her. He still remembered how she had left the Jedi. But that didn’t seem to matter. He was still her friend--one of the very few friends that was still alive and unbroken by the war.

 

She grabbed Darex and enveloped her friend into a fierce, almost percussive hug. Her shoulders, reduced almost to the bone by the years of forced hibernation and time being experimented on, tensed up immediately as pain erupted along her back. It didn’t matter. Armiena knew pain; she understood it, could withstand it. Darex was still her friend. It didn’t matter that the cold sweat had permeated the thin, sterilized operation gown that the younger Draygo had been dressed into and trickling down her back--at least, she hoped it was just cold sweat. Darex was still her friend. It didn’t matter that the shaking from her panic attack had degenerated into the trembling of ugly, undignified tears that poured down her cheeks. Even if Armiena was filling the shoulder of a set of clean robes with tears and snot, he was still her friend.

 

“I’m sorry. F-Force, I’m sorry. No, not about the mess.” She tried to laugh, but her back and stomach protested vociferously against the exercise. “That was kriffing stupid of me, shouldn’t’ve run off on my own and gone after Faust on my own.”

 

Her mother noisily blew her nose in the background. Looking up from Darex’s sodden shoulder, Armiena held out her right hand and caught sight of her skeletal fingers for the first time. She flexed, feeling a degree of reluctance in her forearm and stiffness in her fingers. That didn’t matter; she could rebuild from that.

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A brief transmission from the Galactic Alliance arrived for Grandmaster Trevelian on an encrypted channel.

 

“Grandmaster, this is Admiral Slaughter of the Galactic Alliance. Our government is coming back for her citizens and we urgently require the assistance of the Jedi Order. The fleet will rendezvous at the following coordinates. We hope to see you there. Slaughter out.”

 

A set of heavily-encrypted files were attached to the transmission including a thorough briefing, hyperspace vectors, and tactical simulation package.

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All the concern Darex was feeling for Armiena evaporated as she hugged him fiercely. No matter what hell she had been through, she was still the Armiena he knew. He hugged her back, although his embrace was gentler as he tried not to put any extra pressure on the maze of still-healing wounds that covered her back and shoulders. As she apologized, he smiled. "Well, I wasn't exactly surprised that I couldn't talk you out of it. You were always stubborn." He shifted a little to the side so that he could see her face. "And I ended up getting him in the end anyway." Not that he stayed dead for long, he thought with a touch of unease. His peace was restored a moment later, though, at the next thought that came through his head. Of course, I didn't either. He hadn't gotten any update from Skye recently, which meant that Faust was apparently keeping his head down for now. That boded ill, but at the same time, any reprieve, however momentary, would be welcome to the citizens of the galaxy.

 

"Speaking of stubborn," he said, lightly changing the topic, "I don't doubt this might be hard for you, but your friend has an order for you: take all the time you need to get back to full health, physically and mentally. Once Master Gloth says you're healthy enough to travel again, we'll move you to a Jedi Temple. You'll be more secure there, and we won't have to rely on the generosity of our allies in the GA." His face grew more stern. "I don't want to hear anything about you running off to seek revenge." His face softened again. "At least until you're fully healed," he added quietly. Armiena was probably the best friend he had left, and he didn't want to see the result of this being her lost to darkness and chaos. That said, he also didn't know if she even considered herself a Jedi anymore. A lot of things potentially changed when you had been held and repeatedly tortured for several years. She would have to do a lot of thinking. He only hoped she understood that he wanted whatever was best for her.

 

His comlink buzzed in his pocket. He fished it out one-handedly, his other arm still around Armiena, and checked who it was from. Slaughter. That meant that the Onderon Initiative was happening. He shook his head and repocketed the comlink. "I wish I could stay longer, but I'm going to have to head out soon. The war calls."

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It took some time for the tears to dry up. Eventually, the overwhelming rush of emotion at the reunion subsided and crying into an increasingly sodden shoulder lost its novelty. She allowed Darex to pull away from the embarrassingly tight embrace and took a few deep breaths to steady herself. Armiena was all too aware that she was a ghastly sight. Despite her reputation amongst the Jedi for strenuous physical training, she was now little more than an emaciated corpse; the color had completely faded from her face; her hair had been scalped and her forehead was covered in bandages to protect the tender remnants of the healing surgical wounds. But she was alive, alert, and if the fact that she continued to lean on her friend for support was evidence, in a significant degree of pain from the fading effects of the analgesics.

 

Armiena gave a little snort of satisfaction at the news of Faust’s newfound mortality. Faust, dead, and judging from Darex’s’ tone, it was the genuine last rest, not a brief dirt nap that would end in him waking up in pseudoamniotic fluid somewhere. Even if the cost had been dire--and it had to have been--Faust’s end meant that one less nightmare would be haunting her days, even if his influence continued to provide fuel for the occasional night terror. “Good riddance. Funny, I always suspected that it probably would have been someone else to finally put him down, even if… it would have been rather cathartic to be able to confirm it.”

 

Truth be told, Armiena would have been quite content to have called down an orbital bombardment on his head--though in her experience, taking a pulse from a cold corpse was the only way to be absolutely, positively certain that someone was dead. She was spared from the burden of having to explain herself when a comlink buzzed and a muffled, vaguely familiar voice called her friend off to duty.

 

“I understand, it’s the job. Don’t worry, I’m not going to do anything dumb and self-destructive, and… training is clearly going to take a while.” Armiena pulled back a bit and sighed at her atrophied state. Then she had an opportunity to reflect on Darex’s statement that the war was calling him away to some offworld location. Her hand closed around Darex’s arm and immediately loosened as a stabbing pain shot up from her wrist. “Wait, what war? What war?” She demanded.

 

The galaxy had been at relative peace when she was taken. Certainly, the Galactic Alliance was struggling to contain the havoc that Faust’s rampage was inflicting; Black Sun and the remains of the Sith Order were continually nibbling at the less guarded flanks of the galaxy; there was always the occasional sordid scandal and shocking corruption in the Galactic Senate to outrage the masses and entertain sludgenews viewers. Barring some unforeseen catastrophe or aggression from the Unknown Regions, however, the Galactic Alliance’s leadership of the galaxy was uncontested. The Empire was dead and its surviving leaders were forced into leading insignificant bands of mercenaries or a final few holdouts who had refused the armistice. The Sith Order had been reduced to plotting in Outer Rim hideaways and was destined to obscurity for the next few decades. The war was over, and Armiena had won.

 

Behind her, Master Gloth quietly prepared a hypospray with a mild sedative.

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He was just turning away when Armiena's words--and her hand around his arm--drew him back. He winced inwardly at his poor choice of words. Echoes of her previous panic began to build again, and he immediately put a calming hand on her shoulder lightly. "The Sith," he said simply, "are on the rise again. They killed Master Kirlocca and have amassed a fleet, attacking multiple planets, led by a new Dark Lord. Many of the old Sith Masters have come out of obscurity once more and joined forces under his banner. They say he intends to reform a Sith Empire." He sighed. "This has forced us once again into a more militant role. I've built a fleet to counter theirs and protect as many worlds as I can. The Galactic Alliance is allied with us, and so is the newly independent Imperial Remnant and their order of Imperial Knights." For a moment, his guard was down, and his face showed his discouragement at the fractures in the Order and the galaxy as a whole. And deeper than that, there was a weariness, a nagging doubt that the Jedi would be able to protect the galaxy in light of the Sith aggression. At his core, he was still the same Jedi he had always been--a Jedi who never gave up trying to do the right thing, trying to protect the galaxy, trying to save as many as he could.

 

But in that moment, he let her see just how alone he felt.

 

A few seconds later, he found his center again, and straightened up. "Anyway, that's why it'd be better for you to work on your physical therapy at the Jedi Temple. Master Gloth has the coordinates and access codes, and I'll get you set back up in the system. In the meantime," he hesitated, then hugged her again, "don't hesitate to call me about anything, okay?"

 

He drew back. "Misal," he nodded at her. Then he performed the same action with the Gotal. "Master Gloth."

 

With that, he turned and headed out of the room. As soon as the door slid shut behind him, he pulled out his comlink. There were calls to make, fleet movements to order, and a Jedi to give a new assignment to. On top of that, Armiena's comments had sparked a new thought in him, something he'd think about on his journey to Coruscant. He made the arrangements as he walked to the public spaceport, where he booked public transport to Triple Zero.

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  • 2 weeks later...

After some degree of coaxing, Misal and the Master Healer finally convinced Armiena to consent to a healing trance while the remainder of the harm that had been inflicted upon her was repaired. She had been a nervous, strung-out wreck during the few minutes she had regained consciousness and some of the micro-stitches had torn from the fall out of her bed. Besides, as Master Gloth described it, she really had no desire to be conscious while his treatments replenished the dangerous loss of bone marrow and blood. Armiena finally relented as the Gotal described in vivid detail--and slightly exaggerated--the symptoms that she was likely to enjoy.

 

“Imagine the worst flu that you have experienced. Food poisoning from bad mynock? Please. You'll have shivers all over your body and you will constantly be both hungry and nauseous. You'll have a constant craving for iron-heavy foods, but you will likely expel most of your food within minutes. You may experience seizures as your neurotransmitter levels equilibrate. Almost certainly, you'll experience severe cramping and… outside the seizures, the symptoms are remarkably similar to that of a difficult pregnancy.”

 

That last comparison was an complete fabrication, but Armiena promptly ceased her protestations with a obscene dismissal of ever having to experience those symptoms again.

 

A few days later, Master Gloth pronounced Armiena healthy enough to complete the rest of her therapy without the assistance of a healing trance. Most of the surgical scars had been obliterated by his interventions and Armiena wouldn't be forced to endure the symptoms of regenerating a dangerous amount of blood and bone marrow, but there was little that he could do for the muscular atrophy. That would have to be recovered through old-fashioned methods, and the old Gotal promised to put her in touch with a physical therapist who could speed her physical recovery… as well as a counselor if the iterant Jedi ever felt any desire for the ear of a professional who had worked with veterans. A transport was summoned to transfer them to Felucia, but Misal intervened, explaining that it was absolutely essential that they remain for one more night.

 

That night, having misappropriated an airspeeder from the Jedi, Armiena and the surviving disciples found themselves on an abandoned beach not far from the Dojo. The sun had sunk under the horizon more than an hour ago and the faint haze of Blackmoon began to provide the only illumination to the tropical shore. Misal carried a small, steel cylinder in the crook of her left arm. Armiena, feeling as though she was intruding on a private moment, took shelter under the lengthening shadows from a patch of palms some hundred meters away. She couldn't make out any of what was said, but the black-clad operatives were speaking quietly amongst themselves. Finally, her mother and her comrades strode into the subsiding wash, unclasped the lid of the steel urn that they bore, and scattered their fallen comrade’s remains into the surf.

 

They lingered for about an hour. The humongous Togorian leaned into the comparatively diminutive Miraluka--Armiena couldn't make it out clearly in the deepening night, but her mother appeared to attempt to pat the enormous felinoid on her back.

 

They eventually left so that Armiena and her mother could speak privately. As the surviving three commandos walked away, following the line of the seaweed-strewn shore as they polished off a bottle of rare Alderaanian whiskey that Armiena had stashed away in the Dojo, the veteran Jedi limped down the beach and sat next to her mother on the damp sand of the subsiding tide. She shivered as a gust came in from the ocean and zipped up a jacket that had been looted from the Dojo.

 

Mother and daughter simply watched the stars for some time, enjoying the periodic streak of a shooting star and admiring the view as the speckled haze of the spiral arm of the galaxy became visible. The older Miraluka had no desire to disturb her daughters thoughts, and Armiena was… troubled. Despite everything that she had given to the galaxy over the course of the war, it appeared that nothing had changed. The Empire, despite her best efforts, still existed. The Sith had clawed their way back from the brink of irrelevance and had secured a beachhead into the galactic core. The Jedi had returned to their stodgy, semi-mystical traditions. The Galactic Alliance… had succumbed to the temptation of a good crisis and had plunged unreservedly into a path that led towards authoritarianism. And Faust was still alive. That last stung worst of all.

 

Eventually, however, the silence had to be broken and reality had to be confronted.

 

“How are you holding up?” Armiena ventured.

 

“Well enough, I suppose. I'll have a good cry later, once I know that my team will make it through this. For now though, I need to look after them. But enough about my state; I'm worried about you.”

 

Armiena sighed and clenched her hands around a fistful of damp sand. “I'm disappointed. I thought that after the war ended, that was it. Sure, there was still going to be work to do, battles to fight, but the galaxy was back on the right course. But from what you've told me… it's been nothing but wasted opportunity. After everything that I've been through, I can't help but wonder what it was all for. It wasn’t this.”

 

Misal nodded gravely. “There's been a lot of disappointment in the galaxy. These Imperial Knights that Trevelian alluded to are nothing more than Jedi who were disappointed with the leadership of the Jedi Council. I… “

 

“What…?”

 

“Your son is a very disillusioned young man. I ran into him on Kashyyyk a few weeks ago. He was working with the Imperial Knights.”

 

There was no audible response from the younger Draygo. Her bald head inclined towards the sand, and her emaciated shoulders began to heave in silent sobs. “I’m sorry,” she said miserably, wiping away tears. “Moment of weakness. Of all the things that I’d hoped for, it was that Aidan would have had a chance to live a normal life. MIght not have been much of a mother, but at least I could have given him that much.

 

“That prison… thing that that worthless kriff stuck me in… gave me time to think. Far too much. Or it made me a captive audience to whatever nerf that Faust wanted me to see. For all of the destruction in the civil war, I never managed to address any of the root problems of the galaxy. Billions dead but no significant change. I can’t save the galaxy. I probably never could. But maybe I can save a few people that I care about, make a few changes that might continue beyond my own life.

 

“I need to put my life back together, get back into training, get back into decent physical shape. Next, find Aidan, at least make sure that he’s alright, that the people he’s working with won’t lead him down a destructive path. Keep an eye on these iconoclasts, try to stop them from ruining their relationship with the Jedi. And Darex…

 

“I’m worried about Darex. I think that he has intentionally isolated himself. He probably blames himself for the split in the Jedi Order, probably blames himself for the invasion by the Sith.” Armiena sighed. “Darex was a lousy pick for Grandmaster. He never wanted to be anything more than a good Jedi, didn’t want to get involved in the politics that the job inevitably requires, definitely didn’t want to be responsible for the bloody calculations that military force calls for. Though only a psychopath wants to have anything to do with that part of the job. After that business with Faust, he deserved a good, long break, take some time to reorient himself, raise his kids…” Armiena glanced towards her mother and a smirk snuck out of her tear-stricken face. “See his wife for a change--”

 

“--Darla left him. And their children.”

 

“What a--” Armiena cut short the obscenity that she was sorely tempted to spit out. “Not going to say it. So he is completely isolated, then. Probably doesn’t have anyone looking out for him, he might not have even been able to choose his own council. He was always a little bit too polite for his own good.”

 

“Armiena, dear? If I may offer some advice… ttake some time for yourself, at least a few months. Try to not make any major life decisions--certainly, don’t go looking for trouble or take part in the war until you’re able to have some time to reflect and decide what you believe. Just… make sure that Aidan and Aryian know that you’re alive and well, and look after the people that you care about. No complications, none of these ambitious political maneuvers that you’re so fond of… just allow yourself to be selfish and look after your own kin. The war can wait.

 

“Take some time, look after yourself and your kin--idon’t worry about political ideology or these philosophical doctrines. Ultimately, all that you really have, all that will keep you healthy and sane is your attachments to your friends and family. For all of Trevelian’s doctrines and treatises on the nature of the Force, the Force can’t give you a hug. One cannot find a comforting embrace in a philosophical doctrine, nor make love to a political ideology. For all of their posturing about following the will of the Force and serving an altruistic doctrine, the only thing that will keep the Jedi Order intact and its adherents healthy is its attachments to each other.”

 

Misal yawned and turned her sightless gaze towards her daughter. “Speaking of health, you badly need to get some sleep. Actual bed-rest, not one of these Force-assisted trances that Master Gloth keeps relying on.”

 

“Just a little longer, mum?” An uncharacteristic, playful whine entered into Armiena’s voice. “I've been asleep for the last five years.”

 

The Miraluka’s jaw worked for a few seconds in outrage at the blase response from her daughter. She could hear the emotional strain in her voice, and upon seeing the emaciated woman pull a cloth cap out of the pockets of her jacket and place it over her head, she knew that Armiena had to be positively freezing even on this balmy night. However, this was a rare moment of quiet and calm under the stars, even if she could vaguely make out the tune of a Chandrilan drinking song that one of her operatives was now starting to bellow. Her team--her adoptive family--would survive, even if difficult times lay ahead for them. It was Armiena that she was worried about: quick to wrath, slow to forgive, prone to thoughtlessly rushing off on a righteous crusade and absolutely determined to escalate a conflict, her daughter did few favors for her mental health. Unfortunately, the galaxy and the Jedi needed someone like her, a frightfully stubborn nexu of a woman who was willing to wage war on all fronts, whether political, diplomatic, philosophical, or mortial. Armiena couldn’t stop herself--her daughter was inherently a competitor and lived to fight, even if that character fault isolated her from the rest of the Jedi.

 

It had been that stubborn streak that had nearly led her to self-destruction.

 

Misal snorted. “Very well, I’ll let you be bad. Just this once, alright?”

 

The war could wait. Moments like this would become increasingly rare as the war raged on and the Sith incursion reached deeper into the heart of the galaxy. For now, these sanctuaries, almost completely unmarred by the traumas of the civil war, still existed and needed to be enjoyed before they were transformed into warzones and unfortunate memories.

 

For her part, Armiena simply didn’t want to think about the coming weeks. Eventually, she was going to have to face her ex-husband and provide some accounting of her atrocious behavior towards him over the years… and she couldn’t even think of what she was going to say to Aidan when they finally reunited. It was likely that the wounds of her neglectful parentage simply reached too deep and it would be impossible for them to have any meaningful relationship. And then there was the minor matter of the Jedi--and the Imperial Knights--and the Sith--of complete strangers who would want to use the strength of her name to further their agendas, or simply remove her from the picture and discarding her broken body along the advance of their little empires. In these final few hours, simply watching the stars, she was just Armiena--not a Jedi, not a Force-User, just a profoundly wounded woman who was taking advantage of a rare moment of peace at the end of a difficult campaign.

 

As midnight passed and the obscenely late hour became disastrously early, the night grew chilly and Armiena found herself leaning into her mother for warmth. She eventually nodded off into the smaller woman’s shoulder.

 

When Misal shrugged and jostled her daughter awake, the first rays of daylight were beginning to tease at the horizon and the tide was beginning to come in. This rare moment of shelter was over and the Jedi--and the war--awaited. Groggily limping across the sand, the two made their way to the Jedi Dojo and picked out a shuttle for their transit to Felucia.

 

First, however, Misal had a surprise waiting for her daughter at their destination.

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  • 6 months later...

"Patience isn't a strong suite of the young, youth described as brash and impatient, most elders describing it as being lost upon the young. But in truth, it's just as it should be. Because wisdom in one's youth would be alot less fun and there wouldnt be any room for growth. But in truth, sometimes, it wouldnt help to know things before hand rather than being oblivious." - Genesis Stormhelm

 

The next few hours felt like an eternity for me. Time waned as if every second last a minute, and every minute lasted an hour, the exhaustion slowly creeping upon me now that my adrenaline began to dissipate and my mindset began to slow. After being released from the medical technicians, the few cuts and bruises I had bandaged and wrapped, as well as being given to muscle relaxant, I was escorted the surgery waiting area as I awaited word on Master Armiena.

 

By now my sight had returned fully, but given the exhaustion I had endured at Coruscant, my vision was still slightly blurred as I fought back my sleep against the relaxant I had been given. In truth, I likely loomed pathetic to some of those who came and went as I waited word, but at that moment, as well as in general, I could have cared less. My face still covered in the muck and soot that rained upon us, I looked rather rough, my Auburn hair shooting out in every direction like a wired spice fiend. Looking into a outward viewport into the vortex of blurred stars, I chuckled at my own sight, causing me to wince as pain shot through my ribs.

 

And then I saw it. As we shifted out of hyperspace and into the surrounding space of Borleias, I gazed upon the planet from the viewport jist before the ship turned toward it. It was beautiful, almost reminiscent of Dantooine, yet richer in color and lush even from space. Not like Coruscant was now, a image of raging inferno still etched into my mind as buildings collapsed and fires erupted from beneath its underbelly. And for that moment, I felt a sense of peace wash over my form as I realized we had finally reached safety.

 

I dont know how long I had drifted off for, nor how long I had remained unbothered by anyone. But as I lifted my head from its backbreaking arch upon the chair I had dozed off in, I heard the noises of people walking and talking. Realizing I had dozed off, I shifted and stretched my form, blinking my eyes to awaken myself before I stood and began walking toward the commotion. It was a corridor or two down from where I was at, but the realization I caught when I turned toward where many had gathered was one I would not forget.

 

Some people were embraced, tears of joy encompassing their facial features as they were reunited. Others were sobbing uncontrollably as members informed them of lost loved ones. And it hit me that, despite me lightly taking what I had faced this day, that so many had faced what I had long moved on from. And my heart ached and reach out for them, memories of Dantooine and my parents tugging at me. I once stood where they stood, yet only on a smaller scale as back then, I was the only one. But here, there were hundreds of affected families, some related by blood, others alone just as I was. It was a sight I would never forget, and tears flowed from my face as I turned away, my exhaustion replaced with a feeling of sorrow and worthlessness as I remembered me being unable to do anything upon the cliffside. As much as the one who started this all, that Faust that Armiena had mentioned, I was just as much to blame for not being able toaid in stopping or advert it.

 

I sat back down, wiping the tears from my face, returning my thoughts back to Armiena and her ongoing surgery in a meager attempt to not dwell on my part of Coruscant and in the pain of those affected.

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A dozen ships of the Jedi fleet reverted from hyperspace over Borleias. In an abundance of caution, they emerged an hour sublight speed away from the planet to avoid any traffic coming in from Coruscant. The normally fairly quiet planet was bustling with refugee ships, damaged crafts, and those trying to get off Coruscant. It was a mess, one rapidly growing to the level of catastrophe. In the chaos, there didn't seem to be much in the way of a command structure here yet, so people were doing whatever they could.

 

Adenna, on board the giant cruiser Adi-Wan shook her head. It saddened her to see this, especially in a defeat against the Mandalorians. She had never really considered them a threat until now, and it was worrying to have to deal with them on top of the Sith and Black Sun empires. This wasn't a Jedi world, so the Jedi here had little authority to take charge. Still, Admiral Antilles and the other captains of the Jedi fleet tried to offer whatever help they could. Medical supplies and food were distributed to the bases and rapidly forming refugee camps below while Jedi fighters offered escorts and helped with traffic. Some ships stayed only long enough to orient themselves, then jumped to other planets better suited to deal with refugees. Those ships that were damaged or had nowhere else to go stayed until someone stepped forward to lead. After sending a message to any Jedi leadership here, Adenna sent out several messages to anyone among the Galactic Alliance that might have some authority to take charge of this mess and waited impatiently for a response.

Adenna Sig

 

Send PM's to Travis.

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The Sanare had come out of hyperspace at the head of a column of evacuees. So desperate was the emergency on Coruscant that the Victory-class Star Destroyer was not even one of the largest ships in the formation; there were multiple civilian starliners and converted barges within the cluster of fleeing ships that even the medical cruiser was only a modestly large ship in comparison. The majority of the ships within the tangle dispersed to ports all over the jungle world, whether granted permission to land by the local authorities or otherwise; the angular ship took up an orbit that placed the ship directly over the Juanthir Peninsula some hundred kilometers from the Jedi Dojo, the location of the largest of the refugee camps on the planet. Even this single camp contained nearly half a million sapient souls, the tent city of temporary habitats rivalling many of the permanent cities on Borleias.

 

The Pyrian system had already taken upon fifteen million sapients, a number that continued to climb with every passing hour.

 

Shuttles and freighters began to flit from the surface and the Sanare, an endless stream of sublight engines that ferried supplies from the converted warship as it began to drift over the planet.

 

____

 

Within the bowels of the vessel, in a sector of the ship that was reserved for the most sensitive operations and research, a cell of meditechs and Jedi Healers crowded over the sedated body of Armiena Draygo. This was a routine familiar to the Jedi--the veteran Master was infamous amongst the Order as a miserable and a headstrong patient, but prone to surviving (and perhaps even inviting) grievous injuries. The Master Healer Pannor Gloth took leadership of this operation, murmuring instructions to the surgeons and medtechs as he and the Healers stood vigil over the fallen Jedi with their palms stretched out, solemn as priests. The burned hand was a complete loss--the blackened flesh was unsalvageable and was cut away from the elbow, the hilt of the ruined lightsaber still clenched within. The remainder of the burns, however, merely called for bacta infusions and skin grafts--that could be completed by the novices. The real concern was that of the ruined nerve junctions that had been ravaged by what was reported to be multiple lightning strikes (Gloth had merely closed his eyes in dismay upon reading that report)--without their repair, there was a significant risk that Draygo’s performance would be permanently impaired, even with the best of prosthetics.

 

The result was an unlikely collaboration of medical science and mysticism, with the Jedi Healers soothing frayed nerve endings with their powers and surgeons tracing the ravaged nerves with nanocannulae that would deliver growth factors to encourage their healing--and where the tissue was unsalvageable, microimplants would have to substitute for flesh. Once the eighteen hours of operating were complete, the Jedi Master was transferred to the bacta tanks with a pair of Healers standing vigil beside the tank.

 

“Well, that wasn’t too bad.” The lead surgeon had remarked as the Jedi Master was carted away on a repulsorlift gurney, the Bothan stretching away the tension of eighteen hours of continuous operation.

 

“She was sedated,” was the only retort that Gloth had to offer. “We will see in… six hours?”

____

 

Five hours later, the Jedi Master woke up in the lukewarm slurry within a bacta tank. Her hands--just her left hand, she saw with some disappointment--shot forward to feel the featureless walls of the transparisteel cylinder. Her form contorted as she took in her surroundings. Everything had adopted the pinkish tinge of the bacta solution, but what little she could see was obviously that of a permanently medical bay, and the cramped steel construction suggested that it was on board a starship. Pain immediately wracked her sides from the twists and turns, and she resolved to simply examine the environment with the Force.

 

There was a knock on the side of the tank. Draygo twisted to find a grey-haired Gotal with a disappointed expression on his ancient features. Healer Gotal.

 

Draygo ripped the breath mask from her mouth and formed exaggerated syllables with her lips . her left hand and scraping the claustrophobic walls of the tank to make a gesture at her ear. The unctuous texture and bitter musk of the bacta filled her mouth and nose.

 

Comlink.

 

The Gotal pointed upwards. Draygo twisted to see that a chrome-and-steel apparatus was suspended from the inside of the bacta tank, a device shaped vaguely along the lines of a helmet, if humans possessed antennae and compound eyes. She glanced back at her healer and mouthed more syllables, bubbles frothing from her lips.

 

Ge-ne-sis? Judging from the Gotal’s quizzical expression, the name was unreadable through the bacta slurry. Her lungs beginning to burn in protest, she continued on. ’prent-ice? Pad-a-wan? Pad-a-wan! The only response was a nod--her apprentice was at least still alive.

 

Draygo pushed off and her face bobbed above the surface of the bacta, her hand groping for the helmet above her. She fixed the contraption to her face, gaskets sealing around her chin and cheeks, and allowed herself to sink beneath the level of the regenerative slurry. A heads-up-display bloomed to life around her eyes, and she instantly recognized the holographic icons--this was a tactical display that was installed into certain officers’ medical bays. Though the device was unfamiliar, Draygo had spent enough time around military hardware to navigate the interface and dispatch a signal to the Jedi Dojo, and hopefully to whatever Jedi leadership still remained.

 

Her voice was hoarse and dry, the veteran Jedi having just recovered from anesthesia; bubbles continued to rise around her face as she spoke “This is Jedi Master Armiena Draygo, aboard… Survivor’s Foundation ship Sanare in orbit above Borleias. Disaster has struck Coruscant. Faust has caused its moon to strike the surface. Hundreds of billions are dead, and hundreds of billions are now refugees. I don’t know what is going to happen to the Galactic Alliance. I will remain at Borleias to help with the refugee operations, but the Jedi Council must meet to coordinate a response to this attack.”

 

While she spoke, a Foundation officer in a feldgrau uniform arrived to check on the condition of their patient. Gloth instead dispatched him to locate Stormhelm and inform him that his teacher was alive and conscious.

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As Armiena accessed her comlink via the tank's interface, she would be notified of at least one message that had been sent about an hour ago. If she accessed it, she'd hear the weary voice of her friend Darex.

 

Friends, Coruscant remains in ruins. It is my intention to stay here as long as I can and help the planet recover. But I have come to realize something. I had faith that we wouldn't fail to save the planet. I trusted that the Force had sent me here to stop Faust's plans. My arrogance was unjustified, and my faith has been shaken. Until I can come to terms with this, I believe it is best that I step down as Grand Master of the Order. I need time and space to figure this out, and I know clearly that the will of the Force is that I no longer lead the Order during this time. Besides, with the Sith on the rise, the Order needs a stronger leader than I to keep it from falling to their darkness. It has been my privilege to serve, and I know we will see each other again soon. Until then, may the Force be ever with you.

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After tending to those that they could, Adenna was relieved to see the large shape of the Sanare appear on scanners. She wasn't sure if any other of the GA ships had managed to escape, but at least one got out. More importantly, she could sense the presence of other Jedi on the ship. After the Victory class star destroyer settled into orbit, she requested and obtained permission to come on board. During the shuttle ride, she wondered what was going to happen to the Jedi Order and how they were going to come up with a way to stop the onslaught. Something needed to be done. There was almost nothing worse than what was happening now, and if the Sith or Mandalorians continued their advance, things would only get worse.

 

She arrived upon the Sanare and was greeted by some ship officers and a Padawan. The Padawan quickly informed her of Master Draygo's condition on the way to the medical bays where she was healing. Adenna's brows were furrowed as they entered the room where one of the Jedi's leaders was in a bacta tank. There was a Gotal whom Adenna could only vaguely recall was one of the Order's best healers, and then the battered and beaten body of Master Draygo. It didn't take anyone with medical experience to see how badly she had been injured, including missing a good portion of her arm. Adenna consulted with the Gotal who introduced himself as Master Gloth, and got the rundown of his patient's condition. The body would heal of its abrasions and internal bruising, but what had Adenna most concerned was the nerve damage. Bacta was good at a lot of things, but it wasn't nearly as good at nerve damage as someone using the Force. Even then, that amount of energy would drain many people and take a great deal of time. Fortunately, Adenna had something a little better that could greatly help Master Draygo.

 

Adenna approached the bacta tank and, using the comms, said, "Master Draygo, I am Adenna Alluyen. Your doctor tells me you have some residual nerve damage that will take a great deal of time to heal on your own. With your permission, I would like to offer my own assistance. Several years ago, I engaged the Sith Jidai Geki on Coruscant, and later had some interactions with him before he was locked away for eternity. He infected me with some of the nanites that helped control his degenerative madness during that time. After some learning, I too have learned how to use them to heal and repair damage, even nerve damage. If you would permit me, I would like to introduce them into your body to repair the damage. When that damage is done, they will become inert and break down, so there will be no residual affects."

 

When the Jedi Master nodded her consent, Adenna began to prepare. Even though she was more or less able to use the nanites in her body, to repurpose them to be introduced into another person required some focus and meditation. While she did this, she remained sitting in front of the bacta tank with her legs crossed. After half an hour or so, her eyes opened and she silently climbed up to the top of the tank and opened the hatch. After rolling up one sleeve, she carefully reached into the bacta and placed her hand on Master Draygo's head. Despite the bacta consuming some of them, through this contact, she was able to transfer nanites drawn to her skin and, with a bit of the Force, guide them in through the pores on her patient's head and eventually into the bloodstream.

 

With that task complete, Adenna removed her hand, carefully allowed as much bacta to drip back into the tank, and then went to wash off the rest. "It will take some days to fully repair your nerves, but you should begin to feel the affects in an hour or two. You may feel a slight buzz in the back of your mind if you focus the Force into your body. Ignore it, for that is just the nanites communicating with themselves through your neural network. It will fade away when they are finished and should provide no more distraction to you than a fan in the background of a room."

 

With that task complete, there really wasn't much for her to do at this point. She inclined her head in deference to the two masters and left the medical ward to head to the bridge. She wanted to know whatever information could be gathered from the officers there.

Adenna Sig

 

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"I do not know, whether through exhaustion or the Force, but something beckoned me. It pulled at my soul, aching for my arrival, pulling me to a forgotten planet in the Mid Rim. And in my youthfulness, I thought it but a mere dream, a dream of my own creation. So I ignored it, at least for a time, and slept the hours away." - Genesis Stormhelm

 

 

There I stood, upon the precipice of a cliff side, overlooking a lush mountainous jungle with a sea to the east. Beneath me, built upon the cliffside were ancient homes, overgrown by fauna and growth. Yet, this place felt dark, like a opened wound constantly picked at, not a singular soul of life present upon its surface. It felt almost as if it ached to free its self from the dark seeds that had been planted within its soil, the screams of billions of souls tearing at my mind. Yet, there was nothing I could do.

 

My head ached with the echoing screams, my form falling to my knees as I tried to cover my ears, but to no avail. My head still pounded, my vision crossed as my stomach began to churn. Then I felt a calming hand touch upon my shoulder, and in that moment, silence as a veiled figure stood over me and gazed down upon me, a smile across her violet lips. But then her gaze shifted outward to the previous view along with my own, both of us watching in horror as the lush planet slowly faded into a barren wasteland, revealing billions of corpses that laid buried beneath its soil, all seemingly have laid down where they once stood and perished. Yet, there was nothing neither of us could do.

 

Then she turned her gaze back to me, and I to her, as if I was trying to understand what it was that i was seeing. Yet she only smiled, her gloved hand stroking my face as a tear streamed down her cheek. And beside her, a figure stepped from behind her, a figure i knew better than anyone. It was my mother, her gaze hidden behind her own whitened veil, a veil she had worn since the day she married my father. And together we three shifted our gaze back toward the sea and watched as the lush fauna began to regrow, covering the bodies once again and returning the unknown planet to the previous visage I had gazed at, hiding the darkness that once tainted its surface. And still, there was nothing we three could do.

 

And yet, as the voices began to return as my mother and the veiled woman began to disappear, the voices screamed my name, begging for my help, as if there was something that I could do. Was there something I could do?

 

 

I jumped as a gloved hand awoke me from my slumber, the crick in my neck and ache in my hip and shoulder causing my form to wince from the still recovering muscle aches that ravaged my youthful yet sore body. He looked similar to the medical techs that had taken care of me after Master Armiena was taken into surgery. Yet his uniform was different. It was reminiscent of the ones the group that took her, and I quickly jumped up asking nearly a thousand questions and ignoring the pain that struck through my quick reaction.

 

The man only smiled, and informed me that Master Draygo was alive and recovering, currently suspended in a bacta tank and that he was there to escort me to her side. A wave of relief washed over me, and after shaking his hand with a gracious thank you, I chuckled in slight embarrassment. Quickly gathering my things from the chair I had formed into a makeshift cot, I offered my hand to his lead and was quickly on his rear as he turned and began to lead me toward the recovering area, my usual hopeful grin crept upon my face.

 

Just as we turned to head into the Medbay, I noticed an older woman (Adenna) leaving, but paid little heed to her exit. Master Armiena was a Jedi, so another leaving the Medbay wasn't much of a noticable event, even for a rare Miraluka Hybrid such as myself. I simply bowed my head as I passed before entering myself, my auburn hair bouncing in the weight of my step revealing the socketless eye hidden beneath the black patch. Carrying on inside however, the sight I saw, though heartshattering as it was, was what i needed to see.

 

As i made my approach to Armiena, my gaze inspecting her mangled arm at first brought some sorrow into my heart. I felt that part of blame laid within myself. But as my gaze shifted toward her's, my hand finding it's way to the glass as our eyes met, I could only find myself overjoyed that at least she was alive and that i now saw it for myself and the worry i had felt finally washed away. I didnt know if she could hear me at that moment, but i felt compelled to speak anyways.

 

"I'm grateful to see you're still alive Master." I spoke through my extended grin, fighting back the tears that choked up within my throat and forcing a chuckle so well as a joke. "I wouldn't want you to be that easily rid of me." I went silent for a moment, remembering Coruscant, those who I had saw just a few hours earlier, both overcome with joy and sorrow, as well as the feeling of helplessness I carried with me knowing I failed in my duty. "I heard that a group of Mandalorians have overtook what remains of Coruscant, but many were able to escape both before and after their arrival. The devastation, however, is more than i could have imagined. So many now walk the path i once did, and my heart breaks for them. Now, more than ever, I stand by my choice to follow you and become a Jedi. I dont want to ever see another day like yesterday."

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(Continued from Felucia)

 

As Mjan climbed aboard the shuttle and the doors closed behind them, he took a seat next to the viewport, gazing upon the lush planet as they took to space. It was beautiful, truly, to see such peace and tranquility in even the harshest of terrain. And even as he gazed upon its descending atmosphere, he took it in, knowing that despite the chaos he saw upon its surface that its beauty would soothe even the most torn of souls. Even one such as he, a descendant of darkness. The Jedi here had looked past his exterior and saw the light of his soul, and he got the strangest of feelings that the planet its self was of similar sentiment. Shifting his gaze, he looked toward the oncoming ships above. Today was the beginning of the rest of his life.

 

Feeling the ship touch down, Mjan gathered his things and went to stand, feeling the floor beneath him shift as it entered hyperspace. He would never get used to it, or so he thought to himself, as he firmly stood against the shift. Following Aira, the two exited the craft and was quickly met by an Officer who spoke to her and poised as to whom he was. Mjan was about to introduce himself when his Master stepped in and spoke for him. Mjan smiled to himself despite not knowing the inner workings of her life as a Soldier and a Jedi, and he found himself intrigued.

 

He watched his Master take command, it's natural affinity rippling from the stone that she was. And it made him think of himself in a similar aspect. He had joined the Jedi to better understand the unity of the Force in hopes to hinder the ties to the darkside that dwell in his species. But he hadn't really thought about what kind of Jedi he would become. And as his Master showed him about, he could see her calm and serene nature meshed with the affirmation of soldier's heart. This made him wonder what he would become as a Jedi.

 

As he was introduced again having arrived upon the ship's bridge, Mjan nodded, his mind taking in the sights and sounds and the different types of soldiers and Jedi that they had encountered. There were so many possibilities that it seemed endless and almost overbearing. What could and would he be after his training? He knew training would only last so long. And then when it came time, he would have to forge his own path, alone. Would he leave that decision to fate? Or would he grasp it now and steer himself in the direction he wanted. He did not quite know yet.

 

"Understood Master." He spoke as she relieved herself to her duties, leaving him to his own devices. Lifting his bag, he tossed it over his shoulders and headed in the direction of his quarters, taking her ending words to heart and rolling them in his thoughts as he pondered on his own. And in truth, he thought so hard that by the time he reached his room and unloaded his things, his head had begun to ache.

 

After brewing some tea, Mjan sat down upon his bed and began his meditations, stopping his focusing here and there to take a sip and calm himself. His stunt earlier had frightened him pretty badly, and the thought of his future as a Jedi had begun to affect his focus. So instead, while finishing his tea, he began some light reading through the texts and information Aira had suggested, most notably the Jedi Code. He knew that it was a major part of their philosophy, just as the Sith held their own just as strongly. But with the Sith, the fallen Dark Jedi of old were the ones who made that addition.

 

Closing the reading material, Mjan sat there and took out the small marble and closed his eyes. He did not know why, but he began reciting the Jedi Code over and over in his head as he focused upon lifting the marble again. "There is no emotion, there is peace... there is no ignorance, there is knowledge....there is no passion, there is serenity.... there is no chaos, there is harmony....there is no death, there is the Force."

 

Mjan began to wonder on its words as he opened his eyes and saw the marble still there floating before him, and a sense of understanding each of the mantras began to flow into him.

 

Emotion and Peace. This would speak true to him as his kin and forefathers had long followed emotions, delving into the darkness that corrupted their very existence and nearly destroyed themselves.

 

Ignorance and Knowledge. This would also speak true to him, but on another level, despite his former association to the Sorcerers of Tund. This is the very reason he sought out the Jedi and brought him to Felucia, to hinder the ignorance of refraining yet having knowledge of the darkside only to forbid the knowledge of the lightside. In the light, he was beginning to understand the true unity of the Force.

 

Passion and Serenity. This was a lesson he was beginning to learn the hard way. For Mjan had always held a high passion for what he wished to study, as was evident in his leaving his former Order to seek out the Jedi. But just as he saw earlier today, passion can quickly cause one to fall, his brushing graze with his inner darkness so easily touched.

 

But what of Chaos and Harmony? Death and the Force? His understanding and knowledge of the previous three were from experience. But the last two, he could not grasp completely, especially the last. He could grasp the explanation that the reading material gave. But he held no personal experience with them. Letting the marble fall into his hand, he figured he would question Master Aira about her experience with them later. For now, he would practice levitating the marble and focusing his touching the Force.

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Sanare was no longer a warship, and there was no need for any of the bustle and organized mayhem that was the constant status of any military vessel. There were no public announcements directing personnel to their divisions or summoning officers to compartments. As the VicStar was primarily a medical vessel, Armiena supposed that the crew of the ship primarily used datapads or some other form of communication. What this meant for her was that, aside from the occasional murmured word from the Gotal Healer beside her and admonishment in a soothing tone to rest, the wounded Jedi was left in almost complete silence when the Healer sank into his healing trances.

 

The lack of stimulus was the worst.

 

Wearing a helmet that obscured most of her face with a steel and plastoid frame, Draygo was able to see through the Sanare’s sensors and observe the procession of the refugee ships that continually arrived above Borleias. She was able to converse with the Jedi Dojo on the planet’s surface and was reinducted, at least administratively, back into the Jedi Order. Somehow, Armiena had expected that this event would have involved a great deal more solemnity--perhaps even a ceremony. The helmet’s display even lit up with messages that scrolled up the holographic display, only one of which she actually cared to respond to. One of her few friends--perhaps her only surviving friend--was suffering horribly on the ruins of Coruscant, and she had not been able to offer any comfort in this moment of emergency. A pit opening in her stomach, Draygo attempted to route a message to Coruscant even though there was no way to determine what the destruction of Hesperidium had wrought upon the Holonet.

 

“You are the best Jedi that I have ever served with, and one of the best human beings that I have ever met. Don’t let anyone take that from you.” The defiant tone of her voice softened. “Please, take care of yourself. We’ll keep the fires burning, but… this isn’t going to be easy without you.” Her mouth hung open for a second. What she wanted to say--what she needed to admit to herself--was on the tip of her tongue, but it would have been profoundly selfish of her to force her private tragedy on the Darex in a moment of personal anguish. She closed the connection.

 

Armiena busied herself as best she could in the silence. There were still a number of hidden stockpiles of supplies that could be drawn upon--there were a few Jedi outposts and Rebel bases that had never been exploited, even if their stocks were dwarfed by the magnitude of the emergency. A number of corporations and industrialists were still in her debt--or could be blackmailed or intimidated into an uncharacteristic act of charity. A mechanical roar reverberated from the bacta tank when she contacted the droids of Phu to mobilize their reserves ("WE SHALL ENGAGE IN GLORIOUS BATTLE AGAINST THE RIDERS OF PESTILENCE!" was the only sensible phrase in the multitude of war cries). The Gotal Healer beside her occasionally mumbled an incoherent phrase through the fugue of a healer's trance, but none of the ramblings were of use to her.

 

Draygo was about to contact a certain unethical biotechnology firm and inform an unfortunate intern of her survival when an unknown Jedi Knight entered the clinic. She stared. Alluyen was shockingly young to her eyes--she couldn't possibly be past her twenties--but that was immaterial. Armiena hadn't been any older when she joined the Jedi. She nodded her consent to her plan, the helmet tugging uncomfortably on her scalp.

 

"I'm familiar with the technology. Go ahead." An edge of nervousness entered Draygo's voice that even the buzz of the speakers couldn't diminish. "I ran into Geki a couple of times, once at Csilla. For a man without a heart, he certainly had a lot of blood. Never had a chance to engineer out the metastasis. Gave me a some good ideas on a new application for the tech--and there it is." She sensed a prickling on her scalp and a faint humming in the background. Psychosomatic or not, a dull headache accompanied the sensation.

 

At least she didn't need to be anesthetized for this implantation.

 

Silence came again, but for only a few minutes. Her apprentice soon arrived--mercifully unharmed, though clearly shaken. Draygo tried to smile, but a scar tissue pulled painfully across the com link mask.

 

"Then we train. Genesis, take a seat." A vague shape within the pink slurry waved to indicate the medtech's station beside her. "Meditate with me.""Genesis, take a seat." A vague shape within the pink slurry waved to indicate the medtech's station beside her. "Meditate with me."

 

Floating idly in a man-sized vial of warm, viscous liquid, Draygo found that an unexpected benefit of being confined to a bacta tank was that it was actually easier to enter a meditative state and open up to the Force. The lukewarm slurry provided little physical stimulus; the only sensations were that of the suction of the airtight around her face and the occasional touch of her toes on the steel floor of the transparisteel prison. The lack of sensation contributed to a maddening sense of disembodiment that eliminated the distractions of the conscious world.

 

"The Force is connected to all physical phenomena." The speakers issued with a buzz, but the harsh, mechanical accent couldn't completely obliterate the warmth in her voice. "Action, reaction; kinetics, thermodynamics, electromagnetism... she plays a role in all of these and they can be influenced with the right techniques or a bit of... inspiration." Her voice trailed off. There was no better way to describe what she had pulled off at Coruscant. All Armiena remembered was howling something into the storm and offering herself up as a lightning rod. Her capabilities with tutaminis[/] were average at best, and she had certainly never influenced a continental weather formation. "More importantly, she reflects the emotional context of sapient beings. Kindness, camaraderie, cruelty... all of these are reflected in the Force and form and break connections between sapients. If you are very still and quiet your own conscious thoughts, you can sometimes sense the years imprinted upon places and people, like a tangible object.

 

"Now turn your attention to the ship and the planet below us. What do you feel?"

 

_______

 

At the bridge of the Sanare, a Mon Calamari officer explained the tactical situation to Alluyen, one eye focused on the Jedi Knight and other on a sensor readout from the crew pits. Dark circles hung around her eyes and her left eye lazily closed from time to time--it had been nearly a month since Captain Cilghal had enjoyed a full night's sleep.

 

"Master Jedi, Borleias is currently host to fifteen million refugees and we expect another two million, if more are able to escape those Mandalorian butchers. Best estimates are that Eight billion are scattered throughout this sector alone and... galaxy-wide? Anywhere from one hundred to five hundred billion. We'll never know. We've never seen anything like it." Her salmon-hued face snapped to the sensor readouts, as though expecting a new arrival any second. "We're Senth-Forn, not a warship. The we saw of the Galactic Alliance was that their entire fleet was scattered to help as many ships flee from Coruscant as possible. Steadfast was on a vector to Anaxes."

 

Alarms blared and activity buzzed in the crew pits as a formation of ships reverted from hyperspace.

 

A kilometer-long MC90 cruiser raced out of hyperspace, its hull bearing myriad scorch markings from the catastrophe above Coruscant. Esperanza, the flagship of the Survivor's Foundation and the nerve center of its operations, had arrived to render assistance. A slew of smaller vessels, their sizes ranging from single-compartment shuttles to tramp freighters and even a pair of cargo barges, clung to the shelter of her hull like a school of remoras.

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"The ebb and flow of the Force oddly reflects that of an ocean's current, constantly traversing the same path it's taken since the beginning of time. For the most part, most notably the Jedi, one can simply place themselves upon its stream and simply ride it weightlessly and its guidance take you where it wills. But for some, such as the Sith whom attempt to control it, they become like boulders, rippling its flow and causing an imbalance upon its natural ecosystem." - Genesis Stormhelm

 

"As you wish Master. I spoke with a chipper tone upon my voice having now saw with my own eyes that she was doing much better, finding a nearby medical crate to perch upon, crossing my legs and remembering her words from before as I focused my mind, Armiena's words echoing as my mind focused upon her tone.

 

I focused on quieting my mind, my thoughts beginning to linger solely upon the rhythm of my heart beat and the slow breaths I inhaled and exhaled, letting go of all other thought. Within moments, I could feel a subtle pull, it grasping at my form and mind like a gentle breeze, a sense of peace and clarity washing over my like a small wave had I been laying at the water's edge upon a beach. It felt relaxing, calming, peaceful. Armiena's words continued to reach me, my mind subtly wondering about upon the meanings, the connection we shared with everything, and everything with us, and that the Force flowed through it all as I searched for it all around me. And that was when I felt it for the first time.

 

It came as natural as the sight in right eye. At first it was but a whisper, a conversation taking place a good bit of distance down the hall way even though we were alone in a sealed room with only a few healers monitoring my Master's condition. But the voices grew louder in my thoughts, as if they were outside the doorway, muttering something about the arrival of the last few refugees arriving from Coruscant. But as I turned my attention to the rest of the ship, that feeling before became a wave that nearly took me, thoughts, emotions, conversations, intent, all invading my mind in droves as my mind wondered the halls and into the very souls of the people aboard. And then I turned toward the planet below, unaware of what awaited me.

 

My gaze shot open as my form began to convulse, the dream from before encompassing my very mind and the crystals that Armiena and I shared beginning to glow brightly amongst our belongings. I stood once again upon the precipice of the unknown cliffside, gazing upon the jungle world as the screams of billions threatened to shatter my mind and their grasps clawing at my form. The vision was so strong that it began to pour into Armiena's mind as well, able to feel and see what I saw, but able to control it unlike myself. And before our shared gaze stood the veiled woman once again, the frown upon her face echoing the sadness in her heart as she uttered a singular word, unheard but read.

 

"Katarr"

 

And with that, the vision ended and my form slumped to the floor as the convulsions began to wither and my mind went dark along with the crystals that Armiena and I shared, one of the healers rushing quickly to my aid. Moments would pass, which for some would feel like an eternity. But for me, the next moment I remembered was awakening with someone kneeling over me, calling my name. Opening my eye fully, I questioned visually what had happened, where I was, and shot my gaze around to fully realize that I laid at the base of the medical crate I had sat upon, Armiena just a few feet away. As the healer shined a bright light into my eye, I brushed his hand aside and briefly stood up as vertigo swept through my head and caused me to sit upon the crate, my head pounding with the tone of a thousand drums. Aching, but regaining my consciousness, my gaze shot back toward Armiena with an inquisitive look of partial wonderment and horror. "Wha...What was that?"

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Space was chaotic over Borleias. Not only had most of the Jedi fleet jumped in, but we were met by another fleet. Squinting out the viewport, I felt relief wash over me as I recognized the device of the Survivor's Foundation emblazoned across their hulls. Now it really felt like I was back in the middle of the war.

 

I glanced down at the terminal I was seated behind and winced. If I had thought the refugee situation on Felucia was bad, it was much worse here. Being more Core-ward, Borleias had clearly become a massive destination for those fleeing Coruscant. There was no way the planet could handle such a massive influx. I quickly realized that one of our roles here would be transporting refugees to other destinations. But not many worlds had opened their arms wide to embrace the refugees. In fact, many had studiously looked the other way. The Galactic Alliance government was in shambles, it's fleet mostly crippled hulks drifting in space, and there was no one to force planetary governments to accept refugees. There was no one to even begin to attempt to organize something on this massive of a scale. My head hurt just thinking about it. But I knew that would have to be where we came in, too. Jedi had a voice, and the time had come to use it.

 

Though we were having leadership struggles of our own. No one had seen or heard from Grandmaster Trevelian since Hesperidium had hit. And as for the Jedi Council--Master Skywalker was missing in action over Onderon, presumed dead; Master Illioni had vanished from the galaxy several months ago; Master Organa hadn't been seen for a while either, and messages to her had gone unanswered. We were scattered, and I wasn't quite sure who to look for for orders.

 

That's the soldier talking, I chastised myself. You're a Jedi. You don't need to wait for orders to act. That's one of the things that makes us who we are. It also meant that the burden of dealing with all this had to fall on someone's shoulders, and it might as well be mine until I heard otherwise.

 

But where to start? It was a massive problem. The sheer scope of it threatened to overwhelm me. But then I took a deep breath, calmed myself, and focused. Start where you can. After a moment, I rose from my terminal. There were other Jedi in the system. It would be good to coordinate with them. Perhaps together we could spread out and talk some planetary governments in other systems into accepting some of the refugees before Borleias grew critically overpopulated. Once we started getting some other planets, our fleet could work with the Survivor's Foundation to begin shuttling refugees to those systems.

 

And as for credits...well, I bet that my old friend the Empress of the Imperial Remnant would be willing to help out. That would be a good first place to go. For planets, too, I mused, making my way through the ship's corridors, although any GA forces left wouldn't be too happy shuttling their civilians over to Remnant worlds, no matter the current peace between the two governments.

 

My train of thought didn't cease until I arrived at my apprentice's quarters. For a moment, I felt sorry for him. What a mess of a time to try to learn to become a Jedi on top of everything else, I thought. But I knew that going through these trying times would only serve to make him a better Jedi in the end, even if it was hard to see in the moment. I rapped on the door. "Mjan? It's Aira. Can I come in?"

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Captain of the Galactic Alliance & Jedi Knight

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Sandy sat, waiting for Adenna to return, twisting a small metal device absentmindedly in her hand. The comm link spun from finger to finger, her thumb hesitating over the activation switch, then failing to activating it, turning the comm again over in her hand to juggle it back and forth as she tried to figure out how to best make the call, or text to her friends in the Empire. Well not just friends, but someone she not only looked up to, someone she wanted badly. Even though she barely knew him, barely even thought he would spare her a second glance, that black hair boy, now imperial knight, haunted her thoughts.

 

It was love. She knew it was, but it was love that was born from loneliness and a crush left to fester in her heart for too long. She was desperately in love with him. No not him, the idea of him. The idea of someone to love her, someone who would softly touch her face and say something, anything nice. She wanted that so badly that her heart had latched onto the first person who had been nice to her on Gala. She stopped her twirling and flipped out the keyboard function on the commlink. She clicked out a swift message, deleted it, typed it again, deleted it, then finally sent it. Then she gasped at her own embarrassment. Shut the comm off and placed it back in the magnetic holster on her belt. She flushed deeply, so that the scars on her face stayed white amongst the swath of red. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and stood.

 

She adjusted her armour, adjusted the underweave and glanced towards the window in the bridge. She could barely see her reflection but she liked what she saw, she wasn't some gangly little girl anymore, though she was still thin and did not have some of the assets men liked, she still considered for a moment that she could be beautiful. Then she glanced the scars on her hands and she spun around cutting out her reflection and her eyes instead found her old master. She stayed where she was, and leaned against the window portal, her long legs crossed at the ankles the where the grey armoured greaves broke into shards that covered her boots. There was business that needed to be done, but she knew Adenna would talk to her when she was able.

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Calix Meus Inebrians

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Mjan had sat upon the bed for awhile now, not only levitating the orb above the palm of his hand, but beginning the feel the power flowing through his hands growing, the task requiring less focus and becoming almost second nature. A part of him could not wait to show his Master, the excitement and pride within himself nearly boiling over within the cauldron of self worth that was beginning to form within his psyche. He couldn't believe what he was feeling, the Force swirling through his form and out his hands as easy as breeze flows through the leaves upon a branch, the pebble upon his hand no more than a pedal at this point.

 

But the other half was cautious of his position, the ever worry wort that was Mjan not wanting to display too much of himself. He was Tsis, the species upon which began the Order that has forever fought their kind, fully embracing the very cause of their plight. To understand Mjan was to understand one who has made the first step in closing a feud between generations. He knew he had to be careful, to tred lightly, or perhaps he ever thought things way too much. He shook his head, trying to curb his worries. Master Aira seemed to care less of the age old feud between his kind and her Order, and more about who he was as a being. Still, after the display upon Felucia, he slightly worried even himself. He was young, inexperienced, and despite the generations of his Order, he was fighting the very nature than ran through his blood.

 

Setting aside his self doubt, Mjan began to focus upon the marble again, levitating the small object before his golden gaze, wondering if he could distract himself with another object. Still holding his thoughts upon the marble, feeling the Force swirling around his arm at a constant rate, he turned his gaze toward the foot of his bunk. There upon the lockbox sat the porcelain cup of tea he had let grow cold next to its pot with some steam still managing to rise from its curved spout. Reaching out with his hand, he felt the Force begin to swirl about it and reach toward the small cup. To his surprise, it lifted as easily as the marble, though some tea did manage to spill over its rim. A chuckle erupted from Mjan's amazement.

 

Just as he let the cup back down, a small knock came upon his door, Master Aira's voice offered her presence, and as he went to rise up from his position, the door opened with little more than a singular thought coming from him, causing him to pause mid rise as the marble still hovered before him between his gaze and Aira. With a smiling, yet shocked upon his face as he realized he had opened the door with a simple thought, all he was able to muster was a youthful "Um...".

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The situation on Coruscant was tragic, but at the moment, Adenna didn't know if there was anything that could be done. Part of her considered rallying and retaking the planet, but she didn't have the authority and wasn't sure that there were enough ships to properly do so. Many of the Jedi ships she brought weren't warships, but would possibly only get in the way if they were taken, and the incoming ships were damaged and their crews stressed already. Besides, she didn't fully know the situation over the capital planet. Mandalorian ships might be more numerous than those that could be brought against them. Alas, as Captain Cilghal mentioned, the ships here weren't warships and she understood that.

 

There were too many things that could be done, but weren't. The Jedi were in sorry shape, and so was the Galactic Alliance, it seemed. There would need to be a lot of work done in order to get them back into fighting shape, but that was only if they had the right leadership. She hadn't heard from Grandmaster Trevelian hadn't been heard from in a while and that greatly concerned Adenna. How were they to stay together if they didn't have leadership. "Something needs to be done," she said mostly to herself, but also to Captain Cilghal. Though she didn't think running off to help the Imperial Remnant was the answer like Sandy wanted to do, she had to admit that they were the most militarily organized of their allies. Despite that, they had been crushed at Kuat. Even then, there had to be some Imperial officers and leaders who escaped. With them, perhaps the Jedi and the GA allies could use their expertise to rebuild their fleets and make them more organized and capable of standing their own.

 

There were some reports that, rather than being killed, the Imperial leader had been captured. If so, perhaps she could be rescued and offer help. After all, the Remnant had come to the Jedi once before with an offer of an alliance. The Jedi at the time, including herself, had been too leery of the past to accept. Perhaps now with the situation they were in, it was time to reconsider. Their alliances needed leadership, and so far, Empress Raven had offered it. They also needed a victory, something to boost morale after their string of defeats.

 

Adenna pulled out her commlink and sent a message to her former apprentice. "Sandy, after considering our options, I think you might have been onto something. We could benefit from helping the Imperials, but we aren't going to go in unprepared. I am going to send out a request to see what sort of support we can get to go on a rescue mission to free Empress Zinthos. I figure you would want to join, but I didn't want to volunteer you."

 

After sending that, she worked with Captain Cilghal and formed a new message and sent it to all of the Jedi, Survivor's Foundation, Imperial Remnant, and Galactic Alliance contacts they could come up with.

 

"This is Jedi Knight Adenna Alluyen to all who value the Light and who resist the rapidly encroaching Darkness that is threatening our Galaxy. We have stood by too long and allowed evil in our Galaxy to fester and grow, but no more. I aim to stop its expansion and drive the Sith, the Black Sun, and the Mandalorians back. The Imperial Remnant has suffered a grievous defeat over Kuat and the Galactic Alliance has lost Coruscant. We can't do anything about that at this moment, but we can rally to strike back at Evil. Rumor has it that Empress Zinthos has been captured by the Sith and Black Sun forces over Kuat. I aim to form a task force of all who are willing to fight back with the purpose of rescuing her and dealing whatever blow we can against those who are holding her captive.

 

"I know many of you have no allegiance to the Imperial Remnant and may question why I would wish to risk my life to free their leader. To those, I say this: we need to work together as allies and build our strength as one rather than separately. Already, we have tried to fight alone and failed. We need each other, and that includes all who might take up the cause: Jedi, Republic, or Empire. Rescuing the Empress is but the first step, and it will return to us a strong leader while denying our enemy a trophy.

 

"I know I have no true authority or right of command over any of you, so I cannot make anyone join me. Any who do wish to stand up against our enemies should do so of their own volition because they want to fight this Evil. If anyone who has authority wishes to actually take the fight to our enemy, I will happily follow them, but until then, I will not sit still or idle as Darkness overruns our homes and kills the innocent people of this Galaxy. Any who wish to join me should come to Borleias where I will be waiting. Anyone with the will to fight and a love of the Light is welcome, but I warn you: this will not be easy. If nobody answers my call, I will go alone and fight to free her, but I have faith that there are still some who will stand up and answer my call. We could very well lose our lives, but I would rather die fighting than cower waiting to be executed."

 

When the message was sent out, all that was left was to see if anyone would answer the call. She hoped the Jedi fleet here would join her, but she would let them make up their own minds and join or not. Hopefully, this would stir someone with authority from somewhere who could really rally the people because she doubted anyone would follow her. Maybe she should have brought Tobias: he was a man who knew how to get things done. She really hoped that some of the Jedi Masters would heed her call and come to take charge, that or some of the Galactic Alliance admiralty. She meant what she said, though: if nobody answered, she would head out alone to do what she could to stop this evil. It was time to stand up and fight.

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Despite my heavy thoughts, Mjan's almost sheepish response elicited a smile from me as I entered and took in the scene. "Looks like you're making excellent progress," I joked. "Perhaps now is the time to exhort you not to use the Force too lightly. It's a great power, and as we master it, it becomes easier and easier to access, but it's not to be used trivially, or because one was too lazy to stand up and open the door physically." My tone took on a more serious timbre. "It's good to test your limits, to challenge yourself as you grow in ability. For now though, I want to fill you in on what's been going on."

 

The door slid shut behind me. The lighting in the room was too dim for my tastes. "Lights up by 20%," I said aloud, and the room readjusted accordingly. I took a seat at the small table. "I'm not sure what you know about the state of the galaxy right now," I began. "My impressions are that you have been fairly cut off from galactic news. But Jedi are almost always at the center of everything going on, and this will affect you directly, so let me give you a run down."

 

Noticing the tea, I rose and grabbed a fresh cup from the tiny kitchenette, then returned to the table and poured myself some of the tea as I spoke. I started with the end of the last war, with the formation of the Galactic Alliance and my role in it. I spoke about the few years of tentative, hopeful peace, until eventually the treaty failed and systems began breaking away to form the Imperial Remnant as a response to not feeling secure in GA hands. "Maybe in retrospect, the dissolution of the fleet was not the right choice, but at the time, it seemed like the only way to maintain order," I mused, taking a sip of the tea.

 

I continued, telling him about my conversations with the empress, and her offers to ally with the Jedi Order. Opening up, I hinted about how I wanted to trust my friend, but I couldn't shake my concerns about how quickly she had taken power and all the benefits it offered her. "Anyway, despite the fracture, I still had hope for a peaceful galaxy, these two governments co-existing. But then the Sith reawakened." I shook my head. "They had been quiet for a long time. Who knows what they were up to, keeping their heads down and working behind the scenes. But the Imperial Remnant's drive to snuff out all darkness caused them to respond violently, and it was as if they exploded onto the galactic stage again at full force, ready to burn and slaughter their way through the galaxy again."

 

I explained how the rest of the galaxy had tried to fight back, informing him about the death of Kirlocca and the battle of Onderon and the reemergence of Vladimir Faust. "Our current Grandmaster, Master Trevelian, is no coward, but he is adamant that Jedi should not take the offensive and act as soldiers." I shrugged. "You've seen by now that I'm just as much a soldier as a Jedi, so you know that I don't quite see things the way he does. But I appreciate where he's coming from: in war, it's very easy to justify horrible actions. In the end, civilians are going to be killed. And it's up to the Jedi to stand in the gap for that as much as we can. We're protectors, shields. And it's hard to balance that with the knowledge that sometimes sacrifices have to be made for the greater good." My lips quirked wryly. "See, even as I say that, I'm not sure that's something a Jedi should ever say. I'm sure most of the Jedi Council would disagree with me. They'd say that as Jedi, it's our job to find another way. And maybe that's possible. But...well, my old master used to say, 'There's no good in war, but there is good in why we fight them.'"

 

As if to punctuate my point, our comms pinged simultaneously, and I played the message from Knight Alluyen aloud. Clearly the Force was working, for she and I had been thinking along the same lines. However, I hadn't heard about Raven's capture. The news saddened me, and hardened my resolve. Still, something in Adenna's words set off a warning bell in my mind. It was probably nothing, but her words were so...staunch, so full of zealous righteousness. I glanced at Mjan and slowly put away my comlink. "There's another risk we as Jedi face," I said, lowering my voice. "As Jedi, the ends can never justify the means, or we'll be serving the very darkness we wish to push back against. Darkness can never truly be defeated--it will always be there, lingering in the shadows. And it's clever. It can take the most zealous heart and corrupt it. The most corrupted people I've ever met are not those who are mad with darkness and drunk on power and just want to watch the galaxy burn; it's those who do wrong for what they think are the right reasons."

 

I had leaned forward in my chair, and now I drew back and spoke with a lighter tone. "I'm not saying that Knight Alluyen is doing that. I happen to think this is the right course of action, and I want to join her. I just say that as a warning--we need to constantly examine our motives and our actions."

 

I downed the rest of the tea. "Now, I've talked enough. What do you think? Do you think we should join in and help rescue the empress?" A spark of humor rekindled itself in my eyes. "Are you completely overwhelmed with all of this yet?"

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Captain of the Galactic Alliance & Jedi Knight

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"It was more of a reactive thought." Mjan spoke in reply, a somewhat soft chuckle in his words as he scooted toward the end of the bed, his attentive gaze falling upon Aira as she came in. He could see the seriousness of her face, and heard it in her tone as she began to speak, causing Mjan to wonder what exactly happened after they went their seperate ways. As the lights brightened up the room, she would see the concern written upon his crimson face and golden gaze staring back at her, nodding in acknowledgment that he had indeed been starved of current events outside the Tsis Empire.

 

As she gathered her own cup of tea, Mjan poured another for himself, bringing the cup up to his nostrils and breathing in deep the sent of jasmine and mint, taking a singular sip slowly as to not burn his tongue as she began her tale in an attempt to catch him up. She may have been a soldier during it all, but as she spoke, Mjan could tell that the Jedi part of her echoed in her voice. Not a single hint of hate or vengeance loosed from her tongue. Only that of hope, sadness, and empathy flowed forth. And behind his concern, Mjan smiled at the notion. She was truly a kind and gentle soul to have faced all of this and came out unchanged in that aspect at least. He knew all too well, even for his former Order, how war could change a person.

 

Yet as she spoke of the Sith, their secrets and reemergance known well to him, Mjan's gaze shifted in sorrow. It was true that he was Tsis despite being a Sorcerer of Tund, and they had played a part in the Order's power upon their return. It was a part his Order had played well actually, training those of Kissai in their ways to keep hidden from the Sith Order. Some of those Mjan knew personally had joined the Order upon completion of their training. Even now, it continues, and Mjan hated that it did, even if it was done out of the need for survival. There was shame in his heart over this as she continued.

 

"I understand Master." He spoke as the comm ended and she poised him a question. "I will leave the decision up to you Aira. But I happen to agree with you. As one of the Tsis, I know of the Sith Order's power. It is my kin that fill the numbers of their rank, even some those whom I grew up in the Sorcerer's of Tund and those of the Kissai and Massassi that were trained by my former Order. And as a former member, I feel that I should stand against the tide that was created by it."

 

Mjan sighed for a brief moment, taking in what he was feeling and letting his mind process everything before he too finished the now cooled tea. Her words earlier that day say in his mind, her offer for him to join the Fleet, and now, her tale of what his kin and their Masters had done flowed through his thoughts as well. He needed to redeem himself, not only as a Tsis, but now as a Jedi whom worked willingly to aid the Sith Order's rise back to power. It may not have been directly, but he chose to look the other way as his father and the other Elders trained Kissai and Massassi alike in order to hide themselves. He knew they had joined the Order, but he never knew of their plans, and in that part, he played right into their hands. Now he had the chance to do something about it, and he would not let it pass by. "I would also like to follow your path as a soldier and stand beside you in the the war that is likely to follow. Would you permit me to, Master?

 

((Forgive me if it got confusing. Got a bit of a sinus headache with it being cold and wet from all this rain and the cold frosts that have followed here lately.))

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The comm chirp made Sandy Senya jump, her pale face flushing dark as she pawed at her belt to pull the comm off of its magnetic holster and stared at its flashing holo display. It was her old master’s comm number with its GA prefix, and not the one she was hoping and dreading it would be. She let her eyes flutter closed and breathed a heavy sigh of both relief and happiness. She uncrossed her long thin legs and straightened her grey armour before beginning her walk towards her old master. She made sure she was immaculate, her armour polished to a shine, save where it had been broken and chipped from her fight with the Massassi. She hooked her lightsabre on its loop, and made sure the purified vibro-bayonet, and purified long glass knife were secured in their place. The knife tied alongside the armour on her right thigh, and the glass knife right behind it. The imperial blaster pistol stood in its grey duraloid drop holster on her left side.

 

She tied her hair behind her ears, braiding its long locks to a platinum blonde braid, which she coiled and pinned. Leaving the decorated padawans braid tucked behind her ear and dangling over her chest armour next to the burned Imperial crest. She pulled on her gloves and flexed her fingers in them before she came to Adenna’s side. She clicked her heels, grinned, then gave her old master a brief but loving hug before she held her at arm's length with a sloppy grin on her face.

“I am to visit the Empire?”

 

She could barely keep the excitement from her voice.

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Calix Meus Inebrians

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I nodded once. "It's decided then." Rising to my feet, I held out my hand for his teacup, and once he handed it to me, I took both of our cups over to the sink. "We'll head over and meet up with Knight Alluyen. On the way, I'll get you started on the enlistment paperwork. You'll have to learn on the go, just as I did, but I think you'll be a valuable member of the fleet, as well as a Jedi padawan."

 

Once the dishes were rinsed, I dried my hands on a towel. Pulling out my comlink, I sent a text query through it, and a response pinged in a moment later with Alluyen's location. "Right, she's on the Sanare," I said. "Ready to go? We can catch a transport over."

 

Together, we headed to the hangar, while I filled Mjan in on the military structure of the Jedi fleet. They used the same general ranking structure as the GA fleet, but Jedi were always considered officers. Mjan would start as a lieutenant.

 

The flight over was short, and we were soon making our way to the bridge. I saluted the Mon Cal captain, then let my gaze fall to Knight Alluyen. She looked familiar, and after a moment, I placed her. We had met a few times over the years. The last time I had seen her, we had attempted to heal Geki's fractured mind, with no success. I inclined my head to her. "Knight Alluyen? I'm Knight Cadan, and this is my apprentice, Mjan. We're here to volunteer to be part of the rescue mission for Empress Zinthos."

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Captain of the Galactic Alliance & Jedi Knight

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Adenna smiled as Sandy came in. As she suspected, the younger woman was excited to return to the Remnant. As slightly concerning as that fact was, she was willing to work with it as long as the Empire remained allies and hoped that Sandy would remember she was a Jedi, not an Imperial soldier. For now, she wouldn't press the issue and prayed that Sandy would never be forced to choose between the two.

 

"Yes, I aim to go and find their Empress and free her, or if she has been killed, to mete out justice to her murderers. I never wanted to ignore them or cause you to do the same: it was always my intention to help any who would fight the Sith's evil. I just wanted to make sure you were able to more properly assist them instead of just showing up alone."

 

As other responses and offers flowed in from around the assembled Jedi fleet and in other places, she was kept busy answering and coordinating. So far, nobody from the Remnant had responded, but that was likely because they were dealing with their own issues or simply didn't know or trust her. She didn't blame them after the cautious reception she and the Jedi Council had given them the first time they approached with an offer of alliance. Hopefully, saving their Empress would prove to them her sincerity in helping.

 

She was also glad to sense the somewhat familiar presence of Knight Cadan. It had been some time since she had met the other Jedi and she was truly glad when she too offered to join in. Maybe now with three Knights supporting the cause, the Council would be more willing to support them and offer even more resources to make this really happen. Adenna bowed in return and answered warmly, "Welcome to the team, both of you. I hope we manage to get official support for this mission, but even if we don't, I feel that it is the right thing to do. The Jedi and myself have not always agreed with the Empire in the past, I have even fought against them. However, if they are truly willing to stand with us against the greater evil of the Sith, then we should accept their help. I can't think of a better way to show support than rallying to free their leader.

 

"I am still waiting to see what sorts of resources we may have and to hear back from the Council and the Grandmaster. With their support, we can start gathering intelligence and hopefully find where she is being held. Once we know, we can start figuring on a rescue plan. If my memory is correct, you also served closely with the Galactic Alliance. Do you think you can use any of your contacts to gather support from them?"

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Mjan smiled as he handed his tea cup over and stood up to meet his Master. It was all moving so fast for him, yet in his heart, he felt that it was the best for him. Mjan had always been one of patience, stuck inside the Temple on Krayiss II day in and day out with very little to do except mantras and training. But now that he had came into the open galaxy, he felt the need to experience it as it came to him. So this new pace stood to be a welcomed one. "Thank you Master Aira. I welcome this challenge.

 

As the two headed out, Mjan grabbed his things and, as before, was quickly on the heels of Aira, his form somewhat towering her own. As they headed toward the hangar, Mjan took in the information she offered, questions beginning to gather about the GA and Jedi fleets, and what stood to be the difference between the two as a Jedi among them would be concerned. Yet, he remained silent, even after they arrived aboard the Sanare. In truth, Mjan was slightly distracted by the ongoings around him and what it meant to be a Soldier and a Jedi that he never beheld a chance to even poise his questions.

 

As the two came to the Bridge of the Sanare, Mjan's gaze shifted about the massive command center in amazement. The previous ship they had visited was similar, but this one felt more alive and structured as it prepared its self. Nodding as Aira introduced herself and him, the red skin and barbed facial features of his Tsis heritage still standing out despite him growing more use to their acceptance, Mjan simply stood aside as a bystander of the moment. His Master was his lead.

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I was intrigued by Adenna's insistence on getting the support of the full Council. Wasn't that why the Grandmaster had appointed masters for each of us to report to? So that we wouldn't have to wait until the Council was in session to take official action? Besides, as I had just finished telling Mjan, one of the strengths of the Jedi Order was that we were able to operate with some level of independence. Still, I supposed Adenna was thinking of some major, public action. It wasn't how I would go about it, but if she was planning that, she was right to wait for Council permission. But I was sure they'd agree, so there was no harm in starting preparations while we waited.

 

I frowned as she continued. "We don't even know where she is being held? That is indeed a major setback." I thought through our options. "The GA would likely be willing to help, but they were hit hard after Coruscant fell. They're honestly in shambles right now, and I'm not sure what's going to happen. Much of the leadership is dead, and with them, a lot of their resources. I would guess that they're pretty busy worrying about themselves right now. No, our own people might be better at finding her. But I can call in a few favors with some other contacts. Maybe one of them will know something." I paused. "Just how much are you willing to risk to rescue her? What if, say, she's on Onderon? There's no way we can stand against the Sith fleet. We were slaughtered last time we tried, and that was when the GA fleet was strong."

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Adenna had thought of that situation, as had some of the captains she had spoken to during some hypothetical scenarios during their trip to Borleias. She kept her comments about the previous Onderon expedition to herself. "If she is on Onderon, then we aren't going in with a fleet, but rather with a stealth team. Generally, I suspect that it would be best not to try to use a fleet to force our way into the rescue. The Sith would quickly kill her if they knew we were trying to rescue her. Instead, I think a team going in and freeing her would be more likely to succeed. Then, the fleet could be used to offer a cover and help pick them up if need be. I do hope she isn't on Onderon, but even if she is, we will try to get her out either by stealth or subterfuge.

 

"As for finding her, I am hoping that the Imperials would also have something. They are likely even more determined to find her than we might be."

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Relaxing one’s senses and allowing them to drift towards their surroundings was one of the first techniques that every Jedi learned, and also one of the most counterintuitive. A sapient being couldn’t “reach out” with their feelings any more than could they will their skin to split and their bones to fuse into their surroundings. It required a surrender to the present that ran contrary to nature of virtually every sapient species, to relinquish the ever-present internal monologue and thoughts of the past and future that jabbered incessantly within the mind, and to simply… exist and appreciate the turning of the galaxy.

 

Beyond their medical suite and the Gotal Healer and the accompanying medical droid lay the ship. Draygo was initially perplexed; the purposeful heartbeat of the ship suggested a hospital ship with an experienced crew, but the heads-up display within the bacta tank was strictly a military innovation--perhaps they were aboard a Survivor’s Foundation ship? Several other Jedi were nearby, including the prematurely-aged Alluyen. Armiena spent a moment to touch upon her mind with a light graze and was pleased with what she found--there was no idleness in this critical moment. When the chain of command was unclear, the young woman had simply assumed that she was in command until relieved.

 

Then her mind drifted towards the planet and she was both transfixed and horrified by what she found. Anger. True, there was shock and horror and confusion at the ravaging of Coruscant, but an undercurrent of seething, striving anger ran beneat those surface impressions. Draygo knew that rage well enough--it was the dangerous, wrathful resentment that many refugees carried with them. When properly harnessed, genuine, righteous outrage was one of the most productive emotions imaginable--and it was also one of the most destructive.

 

That simmering outrage must have been perceived by her apprentice, for he swooned and fell to the floor in shock. Draygo glanced upward towards the mouth of the bacta tank. Concentric with the top of the man-sized cylinder was a ring of handholds from which patients who had completed their therapy could keep their balance while the tank was drained. She pushed off of the grating floor and grasped the handholds, gesturing forcibly with her stump of a right arm towards the Gotal Healer.

 

“Let me out or I'm breaking out.” Her voice rasped through the speakers. The veteran Jedi had had enough of bobbing in the slurry while the galaxy continued to turn. Whatever wounds she had suffered, her instincts informed her that the bacta regimen was no longer necessary; what was necessary was her presence outside. As though to put promise to her threat, a transpariplast glass on the tank’s controls crumpled and twisted under the will of the stir-crazy Jedi, spilling water onto the control panel. That was too much for the Healer to tolerate; the bacta drained around her body and she was permitted to leave the tank within a minute.

 

When Genesis came to, he would find his teacher kneeling before him, her brow riven with concern. Armiena paid no mind to the fact that she and the plain tunic were completely soaked, nor to the medtech that was painstakenly suctioning away every drop of the precious bacta with a hose--not even when the hose passed over her scalp and tugged painfully at a shock of black hair. Her stump of a right limb of little concern, and she had yet to see the half-healed fractal pattern of scars that began at her wrist and coursed down her back like the currents of a river delta. Scars could be useful and limbs could be replaced--but every day, it seemed that there were fewer people important to her that still lived.

 

“Katarr was a Miraluka colony.” Her lips twitched when the suction snagged on a tangle of black hair. “Thousands of years ago. You’ll have to ask my mother for a precise date. It's nothing now, just barren rock. What happened to that world wasn't natural--even the Force is muted there… no, drowned out by white noise.

 

“There are other places like that in the galaxy. Invariably, terrible things happened there--massacres, battles--and they left imprints on the Force. Craters is a better way to describe it, I suppose. I don't know if you've ever been to the site of an old battlefield, but it can take a very long time for the grounds to truly heal. Long after the vegetation returns, there are often unspent munitions left behind. Chemical spills. Hazardous waste. It can take decades or centuries before they become safe again. So is the same with the Force.”

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Mjan sat in silence as the two discussed details of a mission to rescue an Empress, his knowledge of the Imperial Remnant limited to only what Aira had told him. As was the same with the Galactic Alliance and Jedi Order. But the Sith he did know. One of the few perks of being a member of their species, even if he knew most of it to false propaganda released by the Order whom took up the name and titles of our forefathers.

 

"Forgive me, Masters." Mjan interrupted, his golden eyes shifting eye contact between the two. "Before we can even plan a rescue mission, we'll need to figure out her location. And the best bet there is to contact the Imperial Remnant... is that what you called them Master Aira? Then we can plan our strategy out from there and act accordingly. If the Sith Order do have her, then they will be expecting something either way."

 

Mjan felt slightly embarrassed by stepping up and interrupting like he did. But he also felt the need to place his input in the discussions, especially if he was going to follow his Master's own tutelage. After all, three viewpoints were always better than two, and with his knowledge as a member of the Tsis species, his input would be valuable if only to aid their own. A life was at stake here, and her importance seemed to outweigh the risk. They needed to tread carefully in the decisions, including Mjan.

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Adenna nodded in response to Mjan's comment. "I agree, and have already sent messages to them. Unfortunately, with the fall of Kuat, it seems that much of their leadership has been put into disarray. I haven't received any response. I was planning on sending Knight Sarna in person there to find someone in charge and link them with us." She didn't think Sandy would mind, and in truth, figured the woman would relish the opportunity to do what she had already wanted to do. "We also really need to get in touch with someone in GA leadership. Knight Cadan, do you know anyone whom you can get in touch with that can speak with any authority for the GA's forces?"

Adenna Sig

 

Send PM's to Travis.

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