Star Wars: Retaliation (IC)

[Laiakia]

Space Above Coruscaunt, Anonymous Freighter

Tuka sat upon a small crate, fickling with his lighsaber. The aftershock of what had happened finally sat in. Why were the clones trying to kill him? Was it just him who was experiencing this? "Surely not?", he thought. If what caused the aggression of the Clones was widespread over the entire Republic.. He quickly shook those thoughts of out his head as he decided to check out a holonet computer attached to the freighter wall. Logging into the live news feed through an anonymous account, he found live footage of the Jedi Temple being ravaged by fighting. His worst fears were now confirmed as he rested himself on a nearby crate. He had to find out what had happened. A sudden shake of the ship indicated that Hyperspace had been initiated, perhaps he would find his answers at Naboo.

[The Imperial Republic]

Jedi Masters Obi-Wan Kenobi & Yoda
Formal Entrance to the Jedi Temple, Temple Precinct, Senate District, Coruscant
22 hours after Operation: Knightfall

---

The air pulsed around the hundreds of blaster bolts as they were flung from multiple contact points around the pillars of the formal entrance to the Temple. Blades, blue and green, slung them aside, either harmlessly splattering into a pillar with monumental heat or returning to their sender. The Jedi Masters were proving too much for the small garrison of clones left to secure the massive palace. Barely one hundred were left to contest the legendary Jedi warriors as they launched their counter-attack into the Temple. By all accounts, the Jedi were gone. The entirety of the 501st detachment scoured the Temple for hours after the last groups of Jedi and Temple Security were found and slaughtered. All avenues of escape were blocked off and fires engulfed sections of the upper sections, allowed to burn through the night and produce large plumes of smoke and ash in the morning hours after the siege. Clone forces counted on the Beacon bringing Jedi back home, those that didn't question, those that were actually relieved. They didn't count on two of the Order's most hyper lethal members to respond and even if they did, they didn't have the numbers. One by one, two by two, the troopers fell and within minutes, the entrance was back in Jedi custody, if only for a few moments. With sabers retracted, the two made their way up the steps, passing by destroyed pillars, chunks of stone littering the ground, resting there after blown from their places by thermal detonators. Climbing the steps, Master Yoda noticed him, his body lying on the ground, head pressed up against a wall, contorting it in an unnatural fashion. Charred flesh surrounding a circular hole in his head, just above the nose. Gate Master Jurokk. "Began here, this did." Thought Yoda as his face sank in sadness. Obi-Wan had barely noticed, too concerned with the carnage and destruction that lie ahead. Dozens of bodies littered the grounds of the foyer, Jedi and Clone alike. It was nearly impossible to find a spot on the walls and familiar pillars that weren't scarred with blaster fire or explosives damage. Yoda pieced the scenes together as best as he could as they marched through the Main Hall. No words were spoken between the two. This was a moment they both needed to see and focus on. Elevator access was on the second floor of the Main Hall and from a set of stairs, they looked on in quiet contemplation.

They stopped at a group of bodies, young bodies. An assortment of four younglings and a padawan, streaks of burnt fabric and cauterized slashes across their chests, a few bearing a circular burn in their stomachs or chests, their lightsabers a few feet from their bodies. Sadness washed over Kenobi as he examined them. "Not even the younglings survived.." Obi-Wan muttered.

"Killed not by clones...this Padawan...by a lightsaber, he was." Yoda spoke. Obi-Wan knelt down to the closest body. He examined the wounds closely and it brought nothing but more pain and questions. He felt anger within himself, anger, sadness, and confusion.

"Who? Who could have done this?" Asked Obi-Wan inquisitively to the Grand Master, leader of his Order. Yoda gave him no reply, only a few more moments of observing the carnage. Yoda grunted quietly and moved on, leaving Kenobi with nothing.

Jedi Archives

---

As the elevator's familiar hum grew lower and lower, the repulsors switched off, relying on the magnetic locks located on both sides to activate, giving the elevator a slight tug. The door parted, sliding to the side and revealing a place barely recognizable to the two Jedi. The large mainframes were shattered, torn to pieces and strewn across the ground. Tables were blown apart and the mantles of various Jedi icons were dumped from their pedestals and sent to the ground, shattering into dozens of chunks. In the center of all this destruction was a squad of clones, conversing about the siege. They'd barely noticed them as Obi-Wan ignited his blade and approached them. It took immense control to keep himself composed but he did so, even as he deflected bolts, moved his blade through clone body parts with ease and using the Force to send the others to their graves. Yoda remained back, slowing his pace as his eyes wandered across the ruined Archives. Just as the hallowed halls of the Archives grew quiet once more, Clone assassins descended down from the balconies and between ruined shelves, watching and waiting for the Jedi Master to let his guard down. They underestimated him. With a strong push, Master Kenobi sent an assassin flying into a thick stone pillar, his body making a nasty crackling sound as it smashed up it. A vibro-blade was swung at Kenobi's head and quickly rewarded with a sideways slash. A blaster bolt sailed past Obi-Wan's head, shot from a sniper rifle owned by an assassin furthest away, awaiting in a hallway leading to Communication Control for the Jedi Council. Kenobi dispatched an overzealous assassin that believed a single lunge of his wrist-mounted vibro-blade would be sufficient. He was sadly mistaken as his body fell harmlessly to the ground, in two pieces. A pull of the Force yanked the rifle from the Assassin's hands and flew across the room, clattering to the ground. The last assassin drew his blaster pistols and relentlessly dumped them into the Jedi. Obi-Wan blocked the bolts with his lightsaber and quickly side-stepped to find cover against a section of ruined pillar. A green blade met with the assassin's legs and as he fell uncontrollably to the ground, the blade met him again at his neck. "To the Beacon, we must go." Spoke Yoda as he disengaged his lightsaber, clipping it back to his robes. "Yes, Master." Said Obi-Wan as he did the same.

Beacon Mainframe, Communications Control

---

Despite the amount of destruction that was brought to the Temple, the Beacon was left relatively untouched. Not a body nor blaster scorch mark adorned the floor or walls. Obi-Wan interfaced with the Beacon, inputting his access codes into the system and gaining entry. As the Beacon's auditory and visual receptors activated, prepared to record the new message, Obi-Wan paused and looked down. A few moments later, his head rose once more as he placed his hands in front of him, intertwining his fingers.

"This is Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. I regret to report that both our Jedi Order and the Republic...have fallen, with the dark shadow of the Empire rising to take their place. This message is a warning and a reminder for any surviving Jedi: Trust in the Force. Do not return to the Temple, that time has passed, and our future is uncertain. Avoid Coruscant. Avoid detection. Be secret, but be strong. We will each be challenged: Our trust, our faith, our friendships. But we must persevere and, in time, a new hope will emerge. May the Force be with you always."

A few command requests later and the Beacon's message was reconfigured as Yoda stood by, staring off into the distance, thinking. At the acceptance of the code's redesign, Obi-Wan turned to Master Yoda. "I've re-calibrated the code, warning all surviving Jedi to stay away."

"For the clones to discover the re-calibration, a long time, it will take." replied the Grand Master. Obi-Wan nodded and closed the interface module, the hologram displays closing inward as the slot receded back into the mainframe. Yoda marched on, entering a small security station once used by the Temple Security Force to monitor video traffic from inside the Temple. With their mission accomplished, the two Jedi prepared to depart the Temple for the last time.

To any Jedi communicators and holocrons, the message was transmitted. Obi-Wan halted, a feeling coming over him as he eyed a security terminal.

[Dentali]

Berethon Horn
Deep Space



Berethon had used 3 separate fake identities on 3 separate planets to sell the stolen transport, buy a new one, travel to another system sell that transport only to buy another and repeat the process. He sold them on alternating black market and legitimate markets, this lost him some money but made it almost impossible to track him.

His lightsaber was concealed, all identifying marks of the Republic abandoned or destroy, his beard shaven and hair darkened he was dressed as a civilian pilot and heading to another destination somewhere in the outer rim. Once again in hyperspace he finally checked a message he was dreading to open.

"This is Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. I regret to report that both our Jedi Order and the Republic...have fallen, with the dark shadow of the Empire rising to take their place. This message is a warning and a reminder for any surviving Jedi: Trust in the Force. Do not return to the Temple, that time has passed, and our future is uncertain. Avoid Coruscant. Avoid detection. Be secret, but be strong. We will each be challenged: Our trust, our faith, our friendships. But we must persevere and, in time, a new hope will emerge. May the Force be with you always."

"Be Secret, but be strong" Berethon thought on that for some time until finally deciding that meant he could still blow things up.

[Revlona]

Jedi Knight Nardrashtasch


Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering.

Nard had been lucky, he had escaped the temple just before the clones had reached the exit he had used. He watched them from the shadows of a nearby building as they set themselves out of site, sitting in ambush for any Jedi unlucky enough to use the exit now. Nard would have done something to free the exit, but he felt fear, their were almost 40 of the clones sitting in wait, to many for him to take alone. He might come through on top but it was a roll of the dice that the wookie was unwilling to make.

Nard had left his shadowed observation point , leaving his robes in a trash bin nearby, and set off deeper into the city away from the temple. Across his back was a satchel he had managed to obtain from a merchant and in the satchel was his saber staff, something he could no longer wear in public. He walked through the streets, catching the looks thrown at him from the human heavy world, most had never seen a wookie before and were curious about it.

It was later in the day when Nard found himself at a space port, he had managed to barter his way aboard a ship using a nearby protocol droid to translate for him. The pilot was a kind soul, making it easier for Nard to influence his mind with the force. He had heard what was going on in Kashyyyk and even though he longed to return home in this time of crisis he knew it to be near suicidal. So he would decide wear to go once off planet.

[The Imperial Republic]

Kijimi

---

Darkness shrouded him. An unnatural darkness, a darkness that brought fear to him, brought anger, sadness, anxiety. The shades moved across his vision like oily shadows and in the distance, he saw red rising over the horizon. Screams echoed on the horizon, death that grew closer and closer to him. Vrudun looked down to see his hands, covered in blood. So much blood that it coated the sleeves of his robes, robes that were ripped and grimy. At his feet lay his lightsaber hilt, split in two, the blue kyber crystal laying between the broken hilt, it's glow growing dimmer and dimmer until it shattered into dozens of pieces. His head snapped up just as a lightsaber ignited right by his left ear, a dark crimson blade flickering it's dark messages to him. In a bout of anger, he slung his left arm back, hoping to strike the holder of the Sith weapon. No one was there. His eyes darted in the darkness just as the blade ignited once more. But there was no other user, there was only him. He looked down in dread to see the black colored, jagged hilt resting firmly in his own hand. His breathing became raspy and pained as he allowed the lightsaber to roll from his hand and onto the ground, deactivating as it hit the ground. The Jedi Knight looked up to see his home, the Jedi Temple, painted in the red of the unnatural glow of the horizon. It looked different, no longer the center of power he recognized it as. Red and black banners unfurled across the exterior, bearing an odd symbol he'd never known before and a deep and sinister cackling that echoed from within. He began to panic as his mind raced to what it could have meant, begging to understand what he was seeing. Nothing could rationally explain it and his breathing grew fast and heavy. His mind flushed the panic as he raced forward, his legs un-moving but still slung past the Temple and into the halls of a Venator-Class Star Destroyer. More specifically, the Bridge of one, where his former Master, Jenassa Artine was standing, her legs planted firmly close and her arms behind her back. He was relieved as he saw what looked to be the planet Atzerri in the windows of the Bridge.

"Master Artine..." He said in a comforted tone. He took a few steps but was quickly stopped in his tracks by Clone Troopers bearing the familiar gray and blue armor of the 404th Battle Corps as they walked past him, unaware of his presence. Dread washed over him. "Master Artine! Master! Jenassa!" He screamed just as she turned around, revealing her lovely, if worried, face to him as her eyes darted back and forth from trooper to trooper. All six of them raised their blasters, Jenassa igniting her blade as they did and opened fire. Many of the shots darted past her, smashing into the grey paneling under the windows while others were deflected back, downing two troopers. She raised her hand and sent another flying past Vrudun, but it wasn't enough. The other three troopers breached her defense, riddling her with bolts, many to her chest and stomach. Vrudun erupted with rage. He opened his mouth, closed his eyes, and screamed, raising both hands and unleashing a powerful Force push, breaking clone trooper bones as they were flung through the windows and out into the void of space but also sucking Vrudun out, as well. In the cold void of space, he felt his life drain from his body as the clones stopped flailing and accepted their fates. Alongside him was his Master, whom he'd had feelings for for many years. He meditated and wished for those certain feelings to go away, but they never did. As his body began to freeze and shut down, he reached over and caressed her lifeless face, immortally frozen in a panicked expression. In that moment, he was at peace.

He gasped and inhaled a large cold breath of air as his eyes witnessed some kind of leather roofing, crudely sown together as the wind rippled through the material. His eyes darted around, noticing a strange woman coming closer to him, her arms raised in a surrendering fashion, tables, chairs, and then, an exit, a part in two pieces of leather that he at least could be an exit. He rose from the bedding and his eyes witnessed his lightsaber, laying on some kind of dresser made from bone. With a pull, the hilt, it landed in his hand and he ignited it. He swung it around to rest near the woman's neck, whom he believed was an Arkanian, draped in the same fur and leather that this hut was made from. "Whoa, whoa, whoa...easy, Jedi. Be easy." Her breathing was shallow and her speech was shuddering, either from the cold or the fear or both. "Who are you? Where am I? Answer me!" Shouted Vrudun as he was still in a state of confusion. He should have been dead. Or maybe he already was. "My name is Beli Galan...you're in my home on Kijimi. Damn, I didn't think Jedi were this...friendly?" She said as her eyes darted back and forth from Vrudun to the deep blue blade that reflected off of her white skin. "Why am I here, Beli? Where's my ship?" He said, slightly moving the blade away from her face and down to her shoulder.

"That Republic shuttle? About two miles east of here. I was checking on my traps when I saw the shuttle come down. It was worse for wear and you were in even worse condition. I dragged you out, brought you here, cleaned and disinfected your wounds." She said, just as Vrudun looked down to notice the white bandages covering his torso and arm, the top portion of his robe was missing and his utility belt was off. "Blaster wounds, stab wounds. What the hell happened to you, Jedi?" He pondered for a moment without answering her, determining whether she was a threat or not. She carried no weapon nor any armor. She was relatively young, her white hair pulled back tight into a bun. She was attractive, examining her slender jawline and feminine facial features. He deactivated his lightsaber and lowered his arm. "My name is Vrudun. Vrudun Tumara. Thank you for helping me. I would have, I should have died out there. You saved me and I'm thankful for it, but I must leave." He said as he moved away from her, spotting his utility belt and robes, washed and cleaned. He paused to examine them. "You even washed my robes.." he said, looking back to her as she shrugged. "My family has lived here for three generations. It's lawless in some parts, but the few farming communities stick together and help those in need." He was touched and nodded in a sign of thanks and respect. He returned to his tasks of wrapping his utility belt around his waist and relayering his Jedi robes, a twinge of pain was felt under the wrappings, enough to make his eyes squint.

"You didn't answer my question. What happened to you? Why are you banged up? And where are your clones? I thought Jedi had their own army of clone soldiers wherever they went?" Vrudun simply shook his head. He opened his mouth, preparing to acknowledge her questions with whatever he could muster. He himself was still confused by the events of what occurred on Metalorn. He stopped right before speaking, noticing a green light flashing on his communicator, the one issued to him by the Jedi Council, as most Jedi were given. His eyes opened wide and he grabbed the communicator, pressing the button.

"This is Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. I regret to report that both our Jedi Order and the Republic...have fallen, with the dark shadow of the Empire rising to take their place. This message is a warning and a reminder for any surviving Jedi: Trust in the Force. Do not return to the Temple, that time has passed, and our future is uncertain. Avoid Coruscant. Avoid detection. Be secret, but be strong. We will each be challenged: Our trust, our faith, our friendships. But we must persevere and, in time, a new hope will emerge. May the Force be with you always."

Vrudun was left speechless. He was left in ruins. He stumbled back and plopped down on the bed, lowering his head to rest in his hands as he tossed the communicator onto the fur bed. All he cared about, all the memories he made back on Coruscant, now reduced to ashes. The Jedi Order was gone, his Master was gone, his loyal troops now turned against him. He was well and truly alone now. "What was that? The...Empire? The Galaxy really has gone crazy..." Said Beli as she moved to the dresser Vrudun was just at, leaning against it. Vrudun picked the communicator back up and replayed the message, listening closely to Master Kenobi's voice. Vrudun looked up at Beli, who seemed just as confused by all of this as he was. "That was Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, one of the members of the Jedi Council, informing me that everything we've fought for was for nothing. Whatever caused this, whoever caused this, they belong to this...Empire...and the Empire has won. Master Kenobi says to stay hidden...to hide." Said Vrudun as he fumbled the communicator around in his hand. "But I cannot. I cannot stand by while this new threat exterminates my kind. I may be the last Jedi in the Galaxy. But I will fight. Somehow. Do you have any transport? Anything I can use to get to Kijimi City?" Said Vrudun as he stood up, finishing up re-dressing. "I've got a snowspeeder, but nothing else. Now might not be a good time to leave, though." She said as she moved close to the exit flaps, pulling them up and revealing a fierce howl and thick sheets of snow coming down so hard that nothing could be seen beyond. She closed the flaps and tied them together. Vrudun sat back down, massaging the wraps on his torso under his fresh Jedi robes. "So your Order is no more? Neither is the Republic?" She said as she took a seat nearby in a rough wooden chair.

Vrudun sighed. "As Master Kenobi has stated, yes." She looked down, shaking her head in disappointment. "That's a shame. My brother served in the Judicial Forces on Coruscant for a while. He retired after he saw that new Army of the Republic. All those clones. He told me it would lead to nothing good. Seems like he was right. As soon as this stems off, I'll take you to Kijimi City." She said, raising up from her seat and moving to a small kitchenette on the far side of the hut. "Until then, maybe this tea will help with the stress."

[Castriarta]

Jedi Knight Ra Ada Viab Aenir
Jedi Temple
Meditation Chambers

The room was dark, but Jedi Knight Ra Ada Vian Aenir's mind glowed like a torch. The Jedi felt in him the wisdom of generations of practitioners, and their connection to him, flowing through him as the Force -- and he was part of the flow, the Keeper of Tradition. Ethereal lights and symbols, words of the Unspoken Language, were born and died in the Anzat's mind.

The Anzat Force-user knew the truth of this eternal language: Only when he began to see the words written here as his own, would he find the strength necessary to make his journey. This journey was ancient, belonging to none -- and to all. It was the journey of Truth, the journey to what they called the Force.

He breathed in. The Anzat was deep in the Jedi Temple, kneeling in the middle of a meditation chamber he himself had helped design. Nearly a generation ago, Ra Ada and his former master Beo Za Grathalt had undertaken the creation of a special meditation chamber designed specifically for Jedi of the Anzat species. The Anzat were a naturally predatory species, and all of them had an unquenchable hunger -- a thirst for the life of others, for the Essence of other beings. This was a particular challenge to an Anzat Jedi, but one that Ra Ada's master believed was not insurmountable. The two Anzati had worked on creating an alternative method of feeding -- one that did not drain the life force of other beings, but could potentially feed it as well. A mutualistic connection in the Force whereby an Anzat could feed without killing, could tap into their natural bond with Life without becoming midwives of Death.

Ra Ada was unsure about how tenable and realistic these efforts were, but he carried on his master's work nonetheless, and continued to use the chamber. It was a place full of life. Plants filled the room, growing in an unkempt and lush affirmation of vitality. Wild vines and strange flora surrounded the Anzat Jedi as he meditated. With his deep breath in, he felt a swelling hum of connection with every living entity in the room. It was if his soul was joined by each living being in some great song. The Anzat often felt this Song of Life. The Force was a hidden orchestra; Ra knew not what instruments, what flutes and harps, drums and trumpets it sounded within itself. All he heard was the symphony.

Ra had been in this chamber for close to thirteen hours. He had to confront something -- though he knew not what. A fear. A darkness. The Anzat wanted to meditate on his premonitions, to clarify the meaning of his anxious instincts. But his thoughts obeyed no calming law. On the contrary, they buzzed feverishly, like a swarm of bees.

Exhaling, the Jedi Knight allowed the Force to pass through him. The River must flow. And I will follow it.

Ra Ada was kneeling in front of a small stone pool. The water in this pool glowed with a phosphorous light, something resembling bio-luminescence. At the bottom of the shallow pool, golden strands seemed to swim through the water, flicking and twisting one way and then another like playful fish. This water was the true project of the meditation chamber. A living pool, the site of the accumulation of hundreds of years of life energy. Every time an Anzat Jedi meditated in this chamber, the Essence they pulled from the fauna in the chamber accumulated itself in this water, creating a replica of the "soup" that Anzati so desperately craved. However, this soup had never been drunk.

As Ra Ada meditated, his awareness of the Force grew. The River must flow. And I will follow it. He became aware of every little stream that joined the main channel. He became aware of all the thoughts, feelings, and sensations that arose in him -- their birth, duration, and disappearance. Do you see?, he asked himself. The River is flowing, but no longer in darkness. It is now flowing in the sunlight of awareness. To keep this sun always shining within, illuminating each rivulet, each pebble, each bend in the river, is the practice of a Jedi. To be a Jedi is, first of all, to observe and to follow the Force.

At the moment of awareness the Jedi felt in control, even though the river was still there, still flowing. He was not a Sith; for him, control was not to make Life come and go as he pleased. The Jedi felt himself at peace in the Force, but this peace isn't the "peace" of death, or of a mindless machine. Being at peace is not the same as being anesthetized. True mastery of the Force is not to learn how to suppress it when you wish and activate it when you wish. True dedication to the Force is never a practice of suppression or repression. Ra knew that as soon as there was repression, there would be rebellion; repression brought about rebellion. All things were one. To deny any other being was to deny himself. Suppressing another being was suppressing himself. Ra knew the Force must be treated with respect, with gentleness, and absolutely without violence. It was wiser than he -- more real than he. The only thing he could do was to let the sunlight of awareness shine on Life and en-lighten it, so he could look at it directly.

Just as flowers and leaves are only part of a plant, and just as waves are only part of an ocean, perceptions, feelings, and thoughts are only part of the self. Blossoms and leaves are a natural manifestation of plants, and waves are a natural expression of oceans. It is useless to try to repress or stifle them. I can only observe them. Because they exist, I can find their source, which is the same as my own. All things are One in the Force.

The light of awareness originates in the heart of the Force. It lights all thoughts and feelings present and enables Life to illuminate itself as well.

But Ra felt a darkness. There was... an absence. Like some Truth removed. The Force had broken through to Ra and Ra had broken through to the Force, Ra had found in himself a depth where the Force abides and out of which it can rush forth, but there was a problem. Ra was aware of the Force, he stood before the Force, worshiped the Force, spoke to the Force. But there was a problem: some part of this Truth was absent. Obviously Ra knew it was not a real absence -- the Force is never really absent -- but it was the sense of absence which troubled him. Something was being shielded from him, kept away from his awareness -- and, he intuited, from that of all other Jedi, even the Council. He felt as if the Jedi were standing before the Force and shouting into an empty sky, out of which there was no reply. They turned in all directions and the truth was not to be found. What could be done about this?

The Force and its mysteries, which are known to none, were beginning to reveal themselves to the Galaxy and, as it were, communicate their eternal plans. Its holy hand cast the Jedi, its own creation, into indescribable depths, where, stunned and appalled, they were damned to contemplate realities that transcended all understanding. This is what Ra Ada attempted to discern now. From whence came this approaching darkness? To where would this shadow lead?

With the outbreak of war the minds of the Jedi had become clouded. The millions of innocent victims being killed in the conflict placed the Jedi squarely before a vision of tragic reality. It was impossible to come to terms with the fact of vast numbers of young lives being brought to a senseless, cruel end. And the Jedi found themselves among their ranks, with the object of slaughtering or conquering beings they did not know, who in their turn would be trying to annihilate the Jedi as quickly as possible. And if the will of evil powers could create such a state of affairs, what was the sense of the Jedi's presence in this Galaxy? How could they trust themselves? The "noble Jedi", hearts aglow with good intentions, seeking perfection like all mighty beings, aspiring to the light of universal knowledge. Would all this be abandoned? And in what fashion? And abandoned to whom, and why? For what end?

Ra Ada feared that the darkness all Jedi sensed in their hearts was greater than any could know; he feared it was doom, and nothing more. Were they all destined for the black night of non-being? At first the young Anzat mused peacefully but soon the question spread like a mass of molten metal, and a strange feeling took abode in the Anzat's heart -- of the futility of all their training, all their working, all their fighting.

Something was quietly happening in the Force, and the two hundred year old scholar's mind, stripped of all other interests, concentrated its attention within. A gigantic plough crossed and re-crossed the expanses of the stars, tearing up the roots of the past. Everyone felt goaded into action. There was unbearable tension on all sides. Furthermore, the Galaxy over, incidents were occurring which presaged the beginning of a new era in Galactic history. But Ra Ada felt confused. Life was crumbling around him but his personal cataclysm -- the disturbance he felt in the Force -- was more intense for him.

And in his deep meditation, Ra felt confronted by a horrible feeling: all that had formed a part of his consciousness was dying: beings close to him, their suffering and love, the whole historical progress, the universe in general, the suns, the stars, endless space; even the Force itself -- it too, seemed to stand on the brink of extinction. In short, all life was being engulfed in the darkness of oblivion. That was the magnitude of death that the Anzat felt then. The pain that held him in thrall detached him from life and he was cast into a somber realm where time did not exist.

Perpetual oblivion, the extinguishing of the light of consciousness, of the Jedi, filled him with horror. This state of spirit settled in the Anzat, against his will. Everything he sensed happening in the Galaxy -- incalculable slaughter -- screamed at him forcibly of the inevitability of an end to the Jedi and their history. A vision of the abyss consumed him, allowing no peace. The Jedi's ever-increasing consciousness of death attained such force that this reality, the reality which he knew and existed in, seemed like a mirage liable at any moment to vanish into an everlasting void.

Such was the pain brought on by the inner experience of the Great Jedi Purge.

Ra Ada's eyes snapped open. He was not safe. Suddenly brought back to reality, the Anzat was flooded by sensations: the smell of blaster smoke, the hum and clash of lightsabers and blaster fire, the ringing booms of explosives, the screams and yells of combat and death. The Temple was under attack. As a hurricane of emotions hit the Jedi Knight, his usually-hidden tentacle-like proboscises flared angrily around his face.

Stepping into the hall with his saber lit, Ra Ada was immediately met with blaster fire. Casually deflecting these blasts, the Jedi Knight was shocked to see his attackers were... clones?! But the heat of combat left him no time for questions. Lifting his hand with a twist of his wrist, the Jedi Knight sent the three troopers stalking down the hallway hurling through the air, their bodies twisting unnaturally as they crashed into a far wall.

Stepping out from the narrow corridor and into a larger hallway, Ra Ada was greeted by a scene of true chaos -- and despair. Brave and deadly-skilled, Jedi knights, padawans, and masters alike fought against overwhelming Clone forces. Seemingly endless columns of them marched in from the entrances, stepping over the bodies of their fallen bodies to spray death upon the desperate and increasingly dwindling numbers of shocked Jedi defenders. The scene reminded the battle-weary Jedi of Geonosis, but this time, he knew no help was coming.

Blade in hand, Ra joined the fray. Deflecting the rain of deadly blaster bolts, the Anzat Jedi stood back to back with a close friend of his, a Togrutan Jedi Knight named Wsall Yom. Wielding her double-bladed blue saber with deadly efficacy, the Togrutan warrior sent a hail of bolts back at the oncoming troopers.

"What is this madness?!" she cried, rage in her voice.

Pain wracking his heart, Ra watched as an elder master was split off from support, surrounded by troopers, and ruthlessly gunned down. Grief spread through his veins like his blood had turned to ice, and as he opened his mouth to reply to his Togrutan comrade, his eyes widened. A missile, spitting fire from its tail, spiraled angrily toward them, whirring evilly like some maniacal wasp. Reaching out with the Force, the Anzat flung himself and his comrade to safety. The blast rang out forcefully, filling the area with smoke and fire. Rolling to his feet, Ra stood beside Wsall. "We must retreat -- we cannot hope to win victory."

"NEVER!" Came the enraged reply. Her lightsaber spinning in a fearsome blur, the Togrutan dived through the air, hurling herself into a nearby squadron and decimating the clones with her ferocious onslaught. "While there is a Jedi left with breath to defend it, this Temple shall not fall!" She roared, Force pushing two clones into a pillar with such power that it surely must have broken their spines. Tears streaming down her face, the maddened Jedi Knight continued plowing through the Clone ranks, leaving a trail of destruction. But it was a lost cause. Though many troopers died, more only marched forth to meet her.

"WSALL!" Ra called, his blade flashing as he cut down Clones who had begun running in through a side hall. Blasting out with the Force, he sent more troopers scattering across the floor, trying to clear a path of escape for his friend. But she would not listen. Driven made by grief and rage, the Togrutan had fought her way into the center of the Clone forces. Flipping and cartwheeling, the energetic young Knight cut down still more enemies, ignoring wounds as she was slowly hemmed in by the elite professional killers -- killers who were experienced in the Jedi combat arts, who knew their strengths and weaknesses. Eventually, she found herself backed up against a pillar, deflecting a hail of bolts, when a bold Clone closed the distance and dived in from her side, burying a vibroblade deep in her ribs. Gasping, her eyes wide, the Togrutan winced and faltered, mustering great strength to impale the Clone with her saber. But the damage was done. Tottering for a moment, the Jedi blinked in pain and confusion, and then collapsed, sliding backwards down the pillar, falling on top of the Clone she had just slain.

Choking back a sob, Ra Ada, knew that the battle was lost. Driving his blade through a trooper's chest, then neatly decapitating another, the Jedi Knight abandoned the fight, stealing down the hallway from which he came. Racing through the Temple, the Anzat made for one of the lesser known, more secret emergency escapes. The Jedi Temple was an ancient building, and had more than its fair share of hidden components, some lost forever in the memory of long-dead masters. In any case, Ra knew the hope in escaping the Clone rampage lay in one of these secret exits. Using the power of the Force, the Anzat Jedi cloaked his presence, evading large groups of Clones on the hunt for Jedi survivors and remaining pockets of resistance.

Finally, he found himself exiting a narrow hall, entering a small floor that held speeders for transporting Jedi around the planet. Catching his breath, the Anzat stepped forward toward the speeder -- then froze. He was not alone. Looking around, the Anzat lifted his lightsaber handle in a ready stance, but did not activate. Stepping back, he closed his eyes, and -- the lightsaber exploded to life in a flash of light as the Anzat dropped into a low stance, conducting a 180 turn and blocking high. There was a clash of vibro-blade on lightsaber, and Ra Ada grimaced, looking up into the dark visor of a Clone helmet. It was a Clone Assassin, a deadly killer identified by the purple markings on his armor. He had struck at Aenir with a double overhead blow, swinging down with both of his arm-mounted vibroblade weapon attachments. Though he was aware of these trooper's reputation, Ra Ada was still surprised by their speed. Before he could admire this any further, however, he saw movement to his right, and kicked his foot in a wide arc, sweeping the legs of the Clone in front of him and rolling back just in time to avoid the thrust of another Assassin. Getting to his feet, the Jedi watched as four more Clones stalked out from the shadows to join the first two.

Smiling grimly, the Anzat's eyes hardened. Flicking his saber up in a classical salute, he nodded respectfully to his opponents. "En garde."

With that, the Anzat Jedi swept his blade up in a curved arc as he flashed forward in a Makashi fencing stance, deflecting attacks from two of the clones and avoiding the others. Repositioning in a high guard, the Anzat rotated around his foes once again and twisted his blade in a downward slash, dropping one of the clones with a long wound burnt across his torso. Now facing five enemies, the Jedi opened his guard, stepping back and dropping his blade to invite attack. And attack they did. Two clones came in hard, blades whirring through the air, while the other three circled out and hoped to surround the Jedi Knight. Leaping into the air, the Anzat performed a twisting 360 flip over the heads of his two most eager assailants, landing with his back to them, and his right hand extended behind his back, palm open. With a push of the Force, he sent those two hurtling forward into a speeder. One of the clones came in for a strike which the Anzat easily sidestepped, splitting the clone's armored body clean open with a precise cut as he passed. Two more closed in from opposite sides, forcing the Anzat to block one with a diagonal guard and close the distance, grabbing the Assassin by his helmet before lifting him in the air with superhuman strength and flinging him into the other clone. The two he had Force-pushed were up now, and bearing down on him, although the Anzat ruthlessly deflected their blades and cut one straight down the middle of his helmet before driving the other through with a thrust right between his eyes. As he turned the last two Assassins came in with vicious slashes, forcing the Knight back as he blocked their attacks. However, he caught one by the arm as he came in with a stab and, pulling hard with terrible strength, tore the man's arm straight out of its socket before smashing him over the head with his lightsaber hilt and finishing him off with a Force push that sent him slamming into the ceiling and then dropping limply back down. Turning on his heels, the Anzat deflected another series of blows from the last remaining Assassin and drew him into an over-extended high guard before slaying him with a quick stab through the heart.

Deactivating his saber, Ra Ada leapt into a speeder and took off, the entire duel have taken only a couple minutes.

Many hours later, after multiple violent brushes with Clone security forces and many other less intense (but still nerve-wrackingly close) calls, the Jedi sat huddled in the corner of a spaceport, an oversized dark cloak hiding his features and the white robes he wore. Ra was using the Force to draw attention away from himself as he attempted to comprehend the tragedies just experienced, and what could possibly be his plan for the future. As he sat thinking, however, something caught his attention. A Wookie, one of the large, friendly, furry natives of Kashyyk walked by, head held low. But Ra immediately sensed -- this was no ordinary Wookie. His heart leaping, the Anzat Jedi rose to his feet, weaving through the crowd after the great furry being. Eventually the Wookie stopped, and Ra came to a halt beside him. Placing his hand on the Wookie's furry arm, he spoke softly, but with a firm tone the Wookie would be able to catch.

"Brother." There was both relief and despair in the Anzat's voice, nearly catching on the single word. "You are not alone."

[Revlona]

Jedi Knight Nardrashtasch

Failure is the Greatest Teacher

The great gentle giant that was Nardrashtasch had his head down as he walked from vendor to vendor in the space port, his flight off planet wasn't until the next morning so he was forced to wait until then. So as he waited, in order to combat the overwhelming sense of grief and fear that threatened to un do him. His thoughts also went to the day past, of why the clones treachery was so unexpected, why couldn't the Jedi sense what was about to come? Why could they not sense any anger, fear, malice, any emotion at all when the clones readied themselves to pull the trigger. No being could conduct such genocidal actions without feeling anything at all, it was impossible. Or at least that is what Nard had assumed mere a day before, now he was not so sure.

He had a few credits remaining upon his person, they had been in his now discarded robes. With these few credits he had purchased himself a blaster and a holster to hold it in, it was an uncivilized weapon but in such times it was what he must use. He would have to keep his abilities with his sabers secret or risk being caught by the clones.

It was while he was moving away from the vendor that he had purchased the blaster at when he felt the hand on his arm. Nard looked down to his left, a sense of fear shooting through him as he expected to see the white armor of a clone. Instead he heard the calm and almost excited voice telling him that he was not alone. He turned quickly to look, reaching out with the force and his own physical senses. Both confirmed his deepest hopes, this was his kin, a survivor like him.

With a deep howl of pure joy he picked the fellow Jedi up and crushed him in a hug. Those around them quickly went from shocked to amused as they assumed this was a meeting of old friends, they were wrong but only just. After several seconds of the hug, Nard set the other Jedi down and growled low into his throat, a simple question in Shyriiwook, the trade language the wookies used to speak to outsiders. It was an inquiry to the other jedi asking if he could understand him.

[Brusia]

Martius Shan
The Last Resort
Hyperspace

As their ship hurtled towards Nar Shaddaa at lightspeed, Martius worked on establishing a secure communication line to the Jedi Temple to try and contact the Council while ensuring he couldn't be traced. After a few minutes of tinkering with the console, Martius uttered: "There, that ought to do it," speaking more to himself than to Schinata, who was still in the pilot's seat nearby.

"You're certain they won't be able to track us?" Schinata asked, as Martius returned to the co-pilot's seat. "I've quite had my fill of Clone troopers today."

"Don't worry, I'm certain" Martius replied. "Now let's see if we can get some answers..."

Martius activated the comm terminal and attempted to get a message through to the High Council Chamber, but it was rerouted through the Temple's Communication Control and rather than open a channel it played a pre-recorded message: "This is Master Obi-Wan Kenobi..." As the message played, Martius slumped back in his seat, scarcely able to believe what he heard. By the time it ended, he was too taken aback to say anything and simply closed his eyes as his mind tried to comprehend the true magnitude of what had happened.

Schinata broke the silence: "After all these years of fighting, I thought I'd be happy to hear of the downfall of the Republic and the Jedi, but for it to happen like this?" Shaking her head, she continued: "For what it's worth, you Jedi were worthy adversaries; you deserved a better end than that."

"Thank you...I think" Martius replied, then let out a heavy sigh.

"We're coming up on Nar Shaddaa now" Schinata stated. "Hopefully my contact will be able to shed some light on how exactly all this happened."

Martius nodded as the ship dropped out of hyperspace, and the Zygerrian piloted it down through the crowded space-lanes to a landing pad adjacent to one of the planet's many casinos where her contact awaited her. As the ship touched down, Martius and Schinata made their way towards the boarding ramp. As they exited the ship, Martius closed his cloak, making sure to hide his robes, lightsaber, and satchel, then lifted his hood to conceal his identity.

"Oh, and once we reach my contact, it would be better to let me do the talking; Order or no, I suspect a Jedi would make him a little less forthcoming."

"Fair enough" Martius replied. With everything happening at the moment, he had no particular desire to share his identity with anyone on this planet anyway.

Walking through the casino, Martius kept his head down and took care to minimize the chances of anyone seeing his face; fortunately one benefit of being on a planet full of smugglers and outlaws was that there was no shortage of people trying to conceal their identities, so his behavior wasn't exactly out of place. The Jedi followed Schinata to a dimly lit booth in a corner of the casino's restaurant, and the two took a seat across from a shadowy figure.

"Who's your friend?" the man asked.

"Hardly a friend" Schinata replied "Just one of my servants." Even without the Force, she could sense the angry glare Martius shot in her direction, and the Zygerrian grinned a little before continuing: "Now than, what can you tell me about what's happened to the Republic?"

"Republic?" the man scoffed "The Republic's dead. My source in the Senate confirmed that Palpatine 'reorganized' it into a new 'Galactic Empire,' with himself as the Emperor of course."

"And the Senate went along with it?" Schinata asked "I knew they were petty and corrupt, but even I didn't think they'd be stupid enough to hand what power they had left over to the Chancellor."

"Well, old Palps convinced the Senate that the Jedi were attempting to overthrow them, and managed to get them to believe he saved them by quashing a 'Jedi rebellion.' Had them eating out of hands from what I hear."

"That's insane" Martius interjected "The Jedi have defended the Senate and the Republic for over a thousand generations, the Order would never try to overthrow it."

"First off, wasn't asking for your opinion servant" the man replied to Martius in an angry tone, before looking back to Schinata. "Second off, he's right of course; the Jedi's blind loyalty to that bloated, bungling bureaucracy has been painfully obvious since this war started. I have no doubt this was a ploy by the self-styled 'Emperor' to remove the biggest obstacle to his claiming power. Good news for us though is that we at least won't have to deal with those damned Jedi Generals anymore; might actually give us a fighting chance to turn the tables in the Outer Rim Sieges." The man slid a communicator across the table to Schinata and continued: "Speaking of which, I let the higher-ups know you were here; they've dispatched a ship to retrieve you and bring you back to the frontlines." Standing up from the table, the man stated: "Can't say I envy you..."

Once he was gone, Schinata looked to Martius and said: "Well, I suppose it's cold comfort, but at least now you know what happened."

"I'm not sure" Martius replied. "I still feel like we must be missing something, but I just can't put my finger on it..."

"Well, while you work on figuring that out, I don't suppose you'd be up for getting a little revenge in the meantime? With our recent losses we need experienced commanders, and you know the clones' tactics better than nearly any of our strategists; with your help we might be able to turn the tide and stop this new Empire."

Admittedly after the betrayal of the Chancellor, the Senate, and even the clones the offer was tempting, but after thinking it through for a moment Martius shook his head and replied: "Revenge is not the Jedi way."

"The Jedi are dead Martius, I think it's time you found your own way."

"Perhaps" Martius replied "Or perhaps there are still more of us out there than the Chancellor realizes, and if there are than they're going to need help. In time we may be able to help challenge Palpatine, but for now I must focus on enabling the Order to survive."

Schinata sighed and replied: "Very well, but if you change your mind, come and find me; the offer will still be open." Standing up from the table, she grabbed a small datapad and input a few commands before handing it to Martius and saying: "Here, these are the access codes to the Last Resort, seems you'll be needing her more than I will; just think of it as a sign-on bonus should you decide to help."

"Thank you" Martius stated, as he stood up as well "Good luck to you General, and may the Force be with you."

"You too General" Schinata said as she walked away "You're going to need it..."

As the two parted, Martius returned to the ship and made his way to the pilot's seat, where he sat for a few minutes to try and decide his next course of action. Eventually, he decided the first order of business would be to find a safe haven for Jedi survivors, but where? It seemed most everyone in the known Galaxy was out to get them now...

"The known Galaxy..." he thought to himself as an idea suddenly struck him. Grabbing his satchel from under his cloak, he reached past his various supplies and into a hidden pocket where he kept the holocron of Gnost-Dural he had been studying; ever since Bane's theft of a holocron from the Holocron Vault, Martius made sure to keep this holocron on his person at all times. Thinking back to the information the holocron held on the Galactic War, he remembered a planet called Odessen; the headquarters of an Alliance against the Eternal Empire in a long forgotten war.

The planet itself too had long been forgotten, abandoned to an uncertain fate; the only record of its existence sealed within the holocron Martius held in his hand. Bringing up the holocron's data on the planet, he then connected it into the Last Resort's navicomputer and programmed in the coordinates. After taking off, he made his way off of the planet's surface and jumped to several different locations to ensure he couldn't be followed before finally making the jump to Odessen.

Once he arrived in orbit, he scanned the planet, and located a large metallic structure on one of the continents. Making his way down, he spotted what looked to be an abandoned military complex, and found a nice flat area of grass adjacent to it. Setting his ship down there, he exited and made his way across an old metal bridge, well rusted and a little squeakier than he'd care for, but still intact, and approached the ancient base. As he looked for an entrance, he could see the structure was clearly well worn; sections of the roof had caved in, and what looked to have once been turret emplacements had long since collapsed, but it was in remarkably good shape for its age otherwise. Clearly they built things to last back in those days.

He eventually found an entrance embedded into the mountainside, and used the Force to open the door with a quick flick of the wrist. Walking through the base's interior, he was surprised to see that it was in even better shape than the exterior. It appeared that most of the base had been built into the mountainside, and that it had been completely sealed off to the outside world for all these centuries. Why it had been sealed, he could only guess, but the result of that action was a remarkably well preserved interior with equipment that, despite its age, looked like it could easily be made functional again with a little work.

As he continued to explore, he found a research lab, what looked to have been a command center, private quarters, a hanger, a meditation chamber, and even a cantina; what's more, he could feel an extremely strong connection to the Force here, like it thrived on this planet in a state of perfect balance. All in all, it felt like the perfect sanctuary for the surviving Jedi. Now there was only the matter of how to get them here...

Any fellow survivors would undoubtedly be in hiding by now, and finding them individually would undoubtedly prove an extremely difficult task. Thinking as he worked his way through the base, he remembered an old technique, the Force call, that could theoretically solve the problem by calling the survivors directly to Odessen. The only problem was that the technique required a tremendous amount of Force energy; more than he could normally hope to summon on his own. Given the abundant Force energy present on this world however, he wondered if it might be possible to draw the necessary strength from the planet itself.

Figuring it at least couldn't hurt to try, Martius made his way back to the meditation chamber and knelt in the center of the room; clearing his mind and focusing on the task at hand. Feeling the life and abundant energy flowing around him in the Force, he drew from it as much as he could; remaining in meditation for hours to strengthen his connection with it as much as possible. Finally, when he felt his connection to the world was as strong as he could make it, he issued the call; shouting through the very fabric of the Force itself to try and draw the attention of any fellow Jedi to this newfound sanctuary. Once finished, he collapsed to the ground in total exhaustion. Sadly, despite his best effort, he knew the call was still not powerful enough to span the Galaxy in it's entirety, but as he slowly lost consciousness, he hoped at least some Jedi out there could hear him and would heed the call...

[Newrey]

Afon Ekker
Venarator-class Starship Insurmountable over Mestrra

The blue hologram flickered as Afon studied it closely, he counted three Munificent-class star frigate and a singular heavily damaged Providence-class dreadnought, while there had been more ships, Afon's own fleet had been slowly whittling away at their numbers since he first forced them from the skies over Rindar. Afon's own fleet was significantly superior to them, both in numbers and firepower, yet something about how they had come to a stop so suddenly perplexed them. As a caution, he had his ships continuing their attack, but the Seps seemed to be acting only defensively.

"They're planning something" he muttered to himself. There was only one way to get an understanding as to what was happening, he brought his com-link and pressed it "Blinder" he spoke into it.

"Yes General?" came a patchy response after a few moments.

"Prepare a boarding party, we're going to find out what the Separatist's are up to, whether they want us to or not"

"Right away, Sir!" Blinder responded. CT-2604, or 'Blinder as he was typically referred to, was by far Afon's most trusted subordinate, having been by each other's side through every battle the 303rd had taken part in, his own determination matched Afon's perfectly, and they had become well known for their effective partnership, they even considered each other friends, "Will you be joining us?"

"I'm afraid not, Blinder, Admiral Tane has requested my presence on the Acclaimed, so I'm afraid General Zapal will be accompanying you" he responded, feeling slight regret about sending Zapal. Zapal and Blinder rarely saw eye-to-eye on many matters, but as the only other Jedi at hand, he would have to do while Afon was predisposed.

"I see sir, shame, I was hoping to put down more clankers on a raid than you for once."

"You'll get your chance soon enough Blinder, after all, I getting old. Keep this channel active, I want updates on the raid as it's happening" he said, bringing his wrist down from his mouth. As he made his way to his shuttle, he passed by a number of troopers that seemed off to him. Everything was feeling off to him recently, like a deep bubbling feeling of dread that threatened to spill over at any moment. He pushed it down, quietly chuckling to himself at the absurdity of a Jedi, who was meant to be fearless and emotionless, feeling dread of all thing, though he did make a note to speak with Zapal post-raid to see if he was feeling anything similar.

Acclamator-class Acclaimed

The shuttle trip from the Insurmountable to the Acclaimed had gone as smooth as one could expect in the midst of a bombardment, turbulent to say the least, but the shuttle arrived in one piece. As Afon exited the shuttle and entered the maze of corridors that was an Acclamator-class, he felt a chill pass over him, his knees becoming weaker till he fell to the floor.

"General, are you alright?" asked a passing trooper, who'd knelt down and offered him a hand.

"No, something terrible is happening, I need to see the Admiral immediately" Afon said, looking down and shaking his head, he looked up and saw his reflection in the trooper's visor. The armour of the 303rd was plain except for the symbol of the Republic in black etched into their helmets, but Afon felt the same chill emanating from the trooper as he did from the Force.

"Right this way sir, she's in..her...quarters..." The trooper's voice slowly went silent.

"Trooper?"

"Good soldiers follow orders" he replied, his arm quickly reaching down for his sidearm, but Afon was quicker, igniting his saber through the trooper's chest. He grimaced as the trooper cried out, before slowly lowering him.

"I'm sorry" he said remorsefully, releasing the trooper's hand. Something awful was happening, there was no doubt about it now, and he knew Zapal would be aware to. He quickly activated his comm-link to Zapal;

"Zapal, come in, Zapal!" he called, but he only received static in return. He tried to reach out with the Force but felt nothing, confirming his fear. Zapal had been as unprepared as him. He heard the trooper's own comm-link crackled to life.

"Furos, be alert, the traitor Jedi Afon Ekker is aboard the Acclaimed, and must be executed, group at Barracks C with the rest of Hunter Squad to assist in the search" came a clone voice. []Traitor?[/i] Afon thought to himself I've got to find the Admiral. It was too risky running about uninformed of the situation, so he took the slain trooper's comm-link before quickly running through the ship, listening out for any telltale signs of search parties. His knuckles were going white from how hard he clenched the saber in his hand.

Coming to a halt down from the Admiral's quarters, he glanced round. Five troopers stood guard. Not good he thought to himself, looking around for a solution, before smiling to himself. He brought his wrist up "All units, I've got eyes on the Jedi in the cargo hold" he said quietly into the comm-link "Require immediate resistance". Within moments, the troopers began to run down the corridor towards him and he prepared himself. As soon as they turned the corner, he used the his saber to slash one across the chest, while force pushing one against the wall, rendering him unconscious. He brought his saber up to deflect the bolts fired towards him back, hitting one of the troopers square in the chest. He then threw the remaining troopers with the Force with as much strength as he could muster. They came to a grinding halt a metre or so from the cabin door, which Afon swiftly entered. He looked around the sparsely decorated room before settling on hiding in the cupboard. She'd come by eventually, and then he'd have everything explained to him. He hoped.

Admiral Solia Tane

The Jedi...traitors? It couldn't be... Solia thought to herself. She stood at the helm of the bridge, standing at rest as she gazed out towards the vastness of Space, the light of Mestrra illuminating the Separatist ships ahead of them. In the chaos of Order 66 being executed, the threat they posed had become a distant memory as the ship busied itself with hunting down Afon Ekker. She'd already heard confirmation of Inin Zapal's death, she had even heard it through the comm-links and could still hear the betrayal and confusion in his voice.

She hadn't recognised the Chancellor at all when he order the execution of Order 66, his usually friendly, almost mentorly, face had instead been replaced by a cruel and scarred face darkened by a hood, his grandfatherly voice had turned sinister. She could almost feel the malice in his voice run through her bones.

"Admiral, did you hear me?" a voice interrupted her thoughts, she looked over to see the familiar face of a clone.

"I'm afraid not, could you repeat?"

"The Jedi has been spotted in the cargo hold, units are being dispatched immediately"

"Good...good" Solia replied, halfheartedly nodding at the news.

"Admiral, are you alright?" the clone asked, concern in his voice.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine. The news of the Jedi's betrayal just caught me by surprise is all. A betrayal of this calibre is sure to leave many reeling."

"Quite so ma'am" the clone replied, returning to his post. Solia shuffled on her feet for a few moments, before turning swiftly and moving towards her cabin, a moment of silence among the buzzing chatter of the bridge was what she needed.

"Alsin, you have the bridge" she ordered before exiting, not waiting to hear any reply, wanting to be free of the air tainted by the sudden serious of those blasted clones. She marched through the brightly lit corridors of the ship, saluting when necessary whenever she passed a search party, until she came to a halt at the end of her corridor. A scene of carnage lay before it, five troopers laying about, clearly slain with a combination of the Force and lightsaber. Afon! she thought to herself, drawing her blaster pistol and speeding towards her cabin. The door slid openly with a smooth ssss and she entered, her pistol raised, her scanning the room. "I know you're here Afon".

"Always one step ahead" a familiar voice came as her cupboard opened to as Afon stepped out, he usually pristine robes now dishevelled and his usually emotion filled face uncharacteristically restrained, as if he was even unsure of what he was to do.

"You've been branded a traitor, your entire Order has. The Chancellor himself ordered their entire extermination" Solia replied, her grip of her pistol tightening as she said the words. Anger rose in her at the thought of his betrayal of the Republic, after years of fighting for it so doggedly, had he been lying the entire time.

"The Chancellor?" Afon replied, shock creeping into his voice "There must be a mistake, why would the Order betray the Republic?"

"You tell me, I've heard the Council tried to kill the Chancellor to seize power for themselves."

"Assassination? Even you know the Order wouldn't act that underhandedly"

"Underhandedly? So you think the Order would try to seize power much more openly?" Solia shot back, her jaw clenched.

"You know me, Solia, how many years have we spent fighting for the Republic? Why would I risk so much only to betray it? You know I would rather die that betray the Republic" Afon responded, regaining his composure.

"I could kill you, put your words to the test. Would you die for it now, after your Order tried to destroy it?" Solia demanded, her hands shaking as she fought to control herself.

"If you believe I would do what I've been accused of, then do it." He said, his tone one filled with finality. Solia tightened her grip and aimed for him, but couldn't bring herself to fire, despite all that she had heard of what the Jedi had done, she couldn't bring herself to believe it. With a shaky breath, she lowered her pistol.

"No, Afon, no.." she said, collapsing backwards onto her desk "I want answers as much as I'm sure you do" The jedi took a step closer and placed a hand on her shoulder, looking her in the eyes. She'd never realised how grey his were before.

"Everyone will be wanting answers, Solia, but I know that we won't get them here." he said calmly, as if his life weren't so close to ending moments earlier.

"If we want answers, we'll have to get off the ship" she said.

"We?" Afon asked, his head tilting with surprise.

"If you think I'm staying in this Fleet when they found out you've escape, you must be mad. And there's only one way to get this ship empty enough to escape." She said, a smile forming.

5 minutes later

"Alsin!" Solia shouted as she ran into the bridge, her uniform torn at her right sleeve. The bridge came to a halt as heads turned around to see their Admiral come barrelling into the room, almost falling over before catching herself on their holoprojector, her breathing was ragged and heavy.

"Karabast!" Alsin exclaimed at the sight of Solia "The Jedi got through our clutches"

"Evidently, he tried to kill me by my quarters, my troopers fought him off at the expense of their lives" She said, her voice almost breaking.

"Admiral, all the escape pods have been launched!" a cry came out.

"I want as many men as you can on the kriffing planet!" She cried out, slamming her fist on the projector "Find that blasted Jedi!". A series of 'yes ma'ams' followed swiftly after as men rushed to organise the capture the rogue Jedi. She looked towards Alsin "As for you, the Acclaimed is yours. I'll be taking over the Insurmountable effective immediately"

"Err, y-yes ma'am, an honour, thank you" Alsin stuttered. Like her, Alsin was one of the few clones that served in the Republic Navy, and they had become friends because of it. She took a minute to compose herself, before heading to the ship's hanger, seeing off the clones that were to be deployed in the hunt for the traitor Afon, even if it took weeks to tear Mestrra apart in the search. She walked swiftly into her own ship, a simple transport ship that crucially had a hyperdrive. Stepping into the cockpit, she found her two clone pilots.

"Dismissed, I'll be flying this over" She said, authoritatively.

"Are you sure ma'am? The Separatist's are still there and could easily shoot you down without expert training." One of the pilots responded, looking at each other.

"Do you often question your officer's commands?"

"No ma'am, sorry" They replied, getting up and departing quickly. She look to the back of the cockpit and saw A3, her ship's astromech droid.

"I see you managed to get those escape pods off perfectly" she said, with a wave of almost happy sounding beeps following. As if on cue, Afon stepped through the doorway, he grey robes now ruined by several thick grease stains.

"I'm too old to be hiding in ship engineering" he said, taking a seat as the starship exited the much larger Acclamator.

"It was that or die" she said starkly. She saw Afon staring at the planet below, it's turquoise sea's riddled with large sandbars that criss-crossed the planet "It's a pretty planet, almost makes up for being sent on a wild bantha chase"

"I can't imagine they'd be taking in the scenery, but it's a nice thought. How long to you imagine we have?" he said, looking back at her.

"The Acclaimed separated from the main Fleet group, so I'd imagine that they'd be focused on finding you, that they wouldn't even notice this thing disappearing for at least an hour, then the amount of time to re-embark all the men? Three, maybe four, hours, we'd be almost untraceable." she replied, "A2, set coordinates for the furthest neutral planet, I want to be long gone by the time they realise what we've done." a strong chirp came in response. Before long, the cockpit was lit up by the hypnotising blue and white swirling light of hyperspace.

"Solia, can I see the message?" Solia jumped slightly at Afon's voice, he had been so silent and in thought she almost forgot he was there.

"Are you sure?" she asked, taking her holoprojector out of her pocket

"Yes, I want to see what brought an end to my people" he replied, his voice devoid of levity. She handed it to him and studied his face as the recording began. His eyebrows furrowed and his liptightened as the hooded figure flickered to life.

"It is time...Execute Order 66" the almost unrecognisable Chancellor spoke, he voice almost turning the room cold. Solia watched with concern as Afon's jaw clenched and his eyes became filled with anger. But almost as soon as it appeared, it was replaced by sadness, his shoulders sagging in despair. He handed back the holoprojector.

"You know, I almost expected more" he muttered, sinking into his seat "Had you heard of Order 66 before this?"

"No, but the clones? The clones had it memorised, but they seemed different." She replied

"Different? How?"

"It was as if they changed, the people they were just ripped away in an instant, and they kept repeating 'Good soldiers follow orders'...it was like they were trying to convince themselves they had to do this." she answered, looking over to see Afon in deep thought. Solia felt the time pass by slowly, taking the time to walk around the ship to take into account what they had. A handful of blasters and a week's worth of supplies. Hardly the best of circumstances, but not the worst.

"Solia!" Afon called, his voice echoing throughout the ship, and Solia running to find out why she had been called.

"Yes?" she asked, leaning around the corner into the cockpit to see Afon holding his own projector, with the image of a similarly bearded man she recognised but couldn't put a name too.

"... dark shadow of the Empire rising to take their place. This message is a warning and a reminder for any surviving Jedi: Trust in the Force. Do not return to the Temple, that time has passed, and our future is uncertain. Avoid Coruscant. Avoid detection. Be secret, but be strong. We will each be challenged: Our trust, our faith, our friendships. But we must persevere and, in time, a new hope will emerge. May the Force be with you always" the message spoke, his voice alternating between grim remorse and yet a subtle sense of hope tinged his voice. Afon looked over to her;

"Odessen" he was all he said

"Odessen? What in the name of are you saying?" she asked, crossing her arms against her chest.

"It's a planet, I don't know what, but I can feel someone calling, and we need to head there." Afon replied quickly, he quickly shifted and started charting his calculations.

"Have you ever heard of it?" Solia said, moving towards Afon and looking over her shoulder.

"Maybe? I can't say how I know, but I know that someone who can help will be there"

"Well then, Odessen it is then" she said, taking her seat, fighting hard to conceal her excitement from Afon to avoid looking childish.

Soon after the forgotten planet punched into view, Afon nodding;

"This is the place, and there" he said, pointing towards the planet "Is where we've got to be, I can feel it".

[The Imperial Republic]

Kijimi
The Calling

---

Vrudun took one last sip of the Deychin tea Beli made for him before they would head off from this ragged tent-like structure. For an hour, Vrudun sat in complete silence, sipping lightly from the tea as he contemplated what was happening, the message from Master Kenobi and how he would start retaliating against the Empire. His teachings wanted him to stop, calm himself, meditate on what he found, but he couldn't. For the first time in his career, he felt anger towards this new threat that has ripped everything from him. It ripped away his Order, his friends, the Council, and most especially, his master. Everything and everyone he cared about was gone. He'd have his revenge, the Jedi Knight would not let this genocide go unanswered. "Alright, so." Beli said, wiping her hands with a dirty cloth as she walked inside the tent. "Speeder's warmed up and the next storm isn't due for another few hours. You just had to crash here right on the day winter begins, didn't you?" She said rhetorically as she lifted up her bag full of clothing, extra food, and other items.

"You're coming?" Vrudun said as he stood from the wooden chair next to his bed. Beli turned and held out her hands, palms up and an annoyed look on her face. "I'm not just going to let you wander off with my only mode of transportation. You leave it in Kijimi City, I'll never get it back. Cities like those are crawling with scavengers, thieves, cutthroats, and worse. Ten to one, that shuttle you thought was going to be your coffin is probably getting scrapped as we speak. There's drones all over this planet, searching for anything that could make someone a few credits and reporting back what they find. A Republic shuttle is risky business, but very rewarding.

"It's too dangerous, Beli. Look, I am thankful that you've saved my life, I really am. But I can't risk putting an innocent life in danger just for my-" He shut his mouth tight as she swiped her hand across her torso and made a shushing sound. "Just shut it, Jedi. I checked the flight logs on that shuttle of yours, saw where it came from. Metalorn, is it? Apparently that whole planet is crawling with clones and if you think Kijimi isn't next, you're dead wrong. If you came here because it was the closest planet and the most lawless in this sector, you'd be right. Bad thing is, clones know that too. If they suspect you fled here, this planet is gonna be occupied real soon. I don't plan on being here to be interrogated and killed." Beli Galan said as she walked over to the exit flap. "Now, are you coming or not?"

Kijimi City

---

During the long and cold trip to Kijimi City, Vrudun felt it. He felt the Call. It forced him to close his eyes, to feel the ripples of a powerful voice shouting through the Galaxy, aimed at him and others like him. He couldn't imagine the power it took to conjure something like this, but it gave him one purpose, one goal through the Force, from where the Force would guide him. He needed to get to Odessen. As Beli parked the shuttle near a security outpost maintained by a private security corp, hoping it would ward off any potential thieves, Vrudun moved out at a quickened pace, receiving questions from the Arkanian female. His eyes darted back and forth through the streets as he grew closer to the spaceport, eyeing signs that advertised starships. "I need to get a starship." Vrudun said back plainly.

"Oh, a starship! Of course! Let's go ask if we can borrow people's ships! How do you suppose we pay for a ship?! I got a few hundred credits, nothing close to buying even the worst one there! What do you have?" Beli asked, struggling to keep up with the Jedi's fast walk. "I have nothing, but I'm not planning to pay.". Beli's eyebrows raised high as she questioned what the Jedi was planning to do.

They approached a dingy little landing pad, surrounding it were starships of small to medium size. Some were in mint condition, sparkling and fresh out of the factory. While others were heavily used, as evident by the worn color patterns, streaks of dirt across the front and a bit of leakage from underneath.

The salesman, a H'nemthe male approached, holding out his arms in a welcoming fashion. "Greetings, you two! In the market for a premium starship? You've come to the right place! We've got-" the H'nemthe was cut off by Vrudun, who had been eyeing a particular ship already. "Sorry to interrupt, but I want to know how much that 1760 is over there?"

The YT-1760 was by far the worst looking ship on the lot. The once vibrant orange and white paint scheme was, for the most part, gone. So faded that only tiny speckles of orange were visible where the cockpit was. The left flange next to the cockpit had been ripped off and hastily replaced with another that was blue and gold. Dirt was smeared long it's undercarriage. The ship had seen better days, and it was evident that this ship had been through the worst possible days over and over again.

"Well, that....that's...it's still in the process of getting cleaned up. Yeah, my cleaner is home sick right now, so..." Said the salesman in broken Galactic Basic.

"Let me take it for a test drive." Vrudun said as he waved his hand across him. The salesman waited a moment, blinking several times before answering.

"Yeah, yeah, sure. I'll let you take it around the block. Trust me, it's a pretty good-"

"Take the tracker off, too." Vrudun said, once again repeating the gesture.

"I'll take the tracker off. Yeah, yeah. No problem."

After a few minutes of having the salesman scrape the disc like tracker from the bottom of the starship, Vrudun and Beli boarded. Beli reassured the salesman that they would bring it right back, though the Salesman didn't appear to have any care in the world about the two of them or the beat up hunk of junk. Vrudun plopped down into the cockpit seat, which was ripped and torn and very heavily used. He flipped switches and dials, the low hum of the transport getting louder and louder. Beli sat down in the navigator's chair that was on the side of the cockpit, still starring at him as he prepared the ship to take off. "Vrudun, how did you-"

"I'll tell you later. Let's just get this scrap heap in the air first." He said as he primed the engines and tested the maneuvering thrusters. Within moments, the ship sputtered and the internal lights flickered a bit before rising from the ground. The hum growing louder and louder as the engines burned blue. The landing gears climbed into the ship, one of the landing hatches closing slower than the others, most likely due to rust on the parts. Vrudun pivoted the cockpit to the white sky, grabbed the thruster lever and climbed into Kijimi's atmosphere. Multiple warning sensors rang out as the ship rocked for a few seconds before exiting atmosphere, the white sky giving way to the dark abyss of space.

"So where is this Odessen? I've never heard of it." Said Beli as she scanned across the control panels. Vrudun stood from his seat and leaned down to the panels. He breathed deeply and closed his eyes. One by one, his fingers began punching in numbers, moving ever so calm and calculating. He re-opened his eyes to see the coordinates for Odessen. "There." Said Vrudun calmly as he sat back down.

From the depths of hyperspace, a single Venator-Class Star Destroyer emerged, forcing Vrudun to slam on the stick to avoid colliding with the nose of the massive cruiser, pings and wails of emergency sensors and dials going haywire as the transport cut sharply to the right, turning it's belly over and away.

"Unidentified commercial transport, this is the Republic cruiser Edge of Eternity. Shut off your engines and prepare for boarding." Said the familiar clone voice over the comm.

"Punch it, Beli!" Shouted Vrudun. Beli slammed the hyperdrive lever up and the transport hummed louder for a moment before going...nowhere. She repeated the movement. Nothing.

"I repeat, shut down your engines or you will be fired upon!" Ordered the clone voice, more authoritative this time. A third time, she slammed the lever. This time seemed to work, as the transport slung forward into the blue streaks of hyperspace. The Zabrak and Arkanian sighed in relief.

Together, the two made their way to Odessen.

[Dentali]

Berethon Horn
Odessen, Wild Space



It was a beaten up and used HWK-290 that Berethon managed to purchase after almost a dozen planets hops and several rounds of credit laundering. It was an ugly ship but in surprising good condition which had been upgraded consistently.

Aside from his many extensive measures he took to not be followed he was now in deep space in an area no one would ever look for him. Odessen was forgotten, abandoned and generally not anywhere on the list of a place someone would look for him, most starcharts didn't even list it and it was only due to his holocron that he could even find it. This all after the strange Force Call he received beckoning him to the planet.

He didn't trust it but he decided to check it out, he could always jump away if a Venator was in system.

He had arrived at the edge of the system and immediately put his ship into low power mode. Its minimal signature would be very difficult to detect in the vastness of space and he merely drifted with some nearby space junk. He watched the planet quietly, reaching out with the force in meditation and waiting patiently, merely observing to see what would enter the system.

[Newrey]

Orbit around Odessen

"You brought this ship, our only means of escape mind you, to a planet that most have never even heard of, much less seen on a star char, on a [i]feeling[/b]?" Solia asked exasperatedly, her hand following Afon's direction at the lush green planet. She was incensed at how reliant on hope Afon was treating this whole thing, she had betrayed not only the Republic and thrown her career down the drain, but she may very well be wanted with a death sentence because of her actions.

"Solia, I felt something drawing me here, so strong I could not ignore it, what else could cause that other than the Force?" Afon replied.

"A trap, for one! I'm not sure on this Force business, but I know when something feels too good to be true, especially after what just happened..." she trailed of, seeing the pained look in his eye. In all that had happened in only the past few hours, she had almost forgotten what it meant for the Jedi "Alright, fine, I'll have A3 send out a scan for structures and we can go check it out, but if there's nothing there, we'll have to come up with a plan that isn't just run like hell".

"There'll be something there, the Force would not call from here for no reason" Afon said, turning to face the planet "Go lay down, I'll wake you if he finds anything" he added, though Solia could tell he was already too deep in thought to bother responding to, instead she walked down the dimly lit corridors of the ship, wondering to herself whether there was anything down there, and if so, what it wanted with Afon.

She had drifted off for an hour before Afon woke her, though she had spent enough time on ships to know when they were and were not in the atmosphere;

"What happened to waking me when A3 found something?" she said, bringing her legs

"A3 didn't find it, I did" he said, handing her jacket as she rose from the bed.

"The Force?" she asked, somehow already knowing the answer.

"The Force" he replied "A presence I haven't felt since Geonosis" he added, disappearing behind the door frame. She holstered her blaster before following him, reaching him as the passage touched the ground. Stepping out onto the planet's surface, she took a deep breath of the fresh air, a small feeling of joy creeping over her at not having t breath the same recycled air over and over again. One of the few things she missed about being a civilian. Looking around. she found that they had landed in the clearing of a rocky outcrop, the hills themselves bare and exposed.

"Hardly the friendliest planet you've found here" she muttered, buttoning her jacket up further to shield her from the wind.

"I saw a parked ship not far from here and what I sensed was a Jedi temple" Afon said, ignoring her comment and beginning to walk through their grassy clearing.

"Jedi Temple? Here? How can you even tell, you've only just found this place"

"The Force...plus it had an incredible dome when I saw it. Jedi architects really love domes." she could hear the smile on his face, even though he faced away from her. Shaking her head, she followed on in silence, taking in the surroundings. Despite her initial perception, Solia could tell this place was old. From the dark rocks that surrounded them, to the thick trees that sat atop the hills, it was remarkably untouched for a planet that supposedly held a Jedi Temple. "No one's been here for a millennia, if you're wondering"

"Yes, but I'd prefer it you stayed out of my thoughts"

"I apologise, I hadn't meant to intrude, but this planet...this planet is strong with the Force, incredibly strong" he replied, his voice more confused than amazed. After a while they found the ship that Afon had spotted, and to Solia's surprise, it was of Republic origin. It's red and white hull and Consular-class design concerned her.

"Turns out you were right, someone is here...and they got here recently" she said, unholstering her blaster and she noticed a bridge near to them. Crossing it, a miracle considering its aged and the pained noise it gave out as they stepped on it, they followed the winding path upwards, eventually reaching the temple. She had been awed the first time she had seen the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, it's combination of mystique and size had left a lasting impression on her. The Temple in front of them was less so. It was certainly large, but was in much worse state, a roof that had some cave in, emplacements that had long since lost any effective usage, she began to wonder why someone would go through the trouble of calling Afon here if it was in such a state.

"There" Afon spoke suddenly and pointed, interrupting her thoughts. Following his finger, she spotted the entrance and moved towards it. Finding it locked, Afon signalled for her to step back, before motioning with his hand. The door opened quickly after that, the Force still had a way of impressing Solia, despite her extensive experience with it. Stepping into the Temple, the interior was a stark contrast to its exterior, kept in pristine condition, as though it had only recently been cleaned. Walking through it, Solia felt her guard rise and place her on edge. The deeper into the place they got, the more conscious she was of the fact they hadn't found anyone. Coming across a door, Afon stuck his arm out in front of her, causing her to jump.

"There's a presence behind this door...the one I felt on the ship" Afon explained, looking to her "Perhaps you should stay here, your Republic uniform may cause unwanted accidents"

"If you think I'm letting you step into a room alone, you've got another thing coming, besides, I'm standing next to you. I'd be a pretty bad killer if I walked casually with the person I was meant to kill" before giving Afon a chance to answered, she opened the door, seeing a figure laying in the centre of the room.

"Found the ship's owner" she quipped, before they rushed to the figure's side "Recognise him?"

"A Jedi" Afon replied curtly, closing his eyes and kneeling.

"What are you doing?" she asked

"Waking him"

[Laiakia]

Naboo, Spaceport

Tuka was currently wandering the spaceport of Naboo, wondering over what had occured at Coruscaunt. His eyes gazed towards a N-1 Starfighter as he thought about his fellow Jedi. Are they okay? Are they safe? He clenched his fist and decided that he had to take care of himself first. Various aliens mingled in the huge crowds and Tuka could hardly be distinguished from a normal civillian. As he rounded a corner, he felt the Force Call from Oddessen. "This is great! Another Jedi is alive.", he thought. A singular goal entered his mind as he returned to the crowds. He had to find a way to the planet. He continued walking and eventually arrived at the hangar bays where the crowd was almost non-existant. Tuka eyed the various ships that littered the landing pads in the bay and decided that he had to steal a ship somehow. Shrugging his shoulder in sadness, he walked up to a pilot of a YT-1300 light freighter and sighed, closing his and trying his hand at a mind trick. "This is my ship. Give it to me." The pilot seemed annoyed at first and seemed to be resisting the mind trick, but slowly seemed to be more affected by it. Tuka quickly grabbed the pilot's activation cylinder and ran straight towards the freighter, boarding it. He quickly sat down in the pilot's chair, plugged in the cylinder and left the spaceport promptly. The pilot, whomst now had broken free of the weak mind trick, quickly realized his ship was gone and were speaking to security.

Meanwhile, Tuka had already escaped the atmosphere and was setting the hyperdrive course towards Oddessen. With a single button press, the ship had gone into hyperdrive and Tuka hoped that it was not a trap.

[The Imperial Republic]

The Ruined Temple

The ride to Odessen was a quiet one, allowing Vrudun some time to meditate, re-focus and strengthen his connection to the Force. Through Beli's inquisitive nature, they learned the name of the ship they had acquired: the Vigil, previously owned by a Twi'lek woman during the Ryloth insurgency. The two noted a few ships already sitting on the exterior landing pad and clearings. They had found a clearing farther off from the ruined and collapsing building and landed there. The two set off towards the entrance of the building.

[Dentali]

The Ruined Temple


Berethon had landed a few miles away in a small clearing in the otherwise dense forest. It was the best protection he could find on short notice. He made his way on foot towards the ruined temple where several other ships had landed, if he was lucky other Jedi, if he was unlucky.... Either way he utilized his force abilities to conceal himself from detection then approached further.

Reaching the edge of the treeline he watched a young Zabrak and his companion enter the temple. Horn recognized him, a young Jedi by the name of Vrudun. Berethon found it unlikely the young man was some sort of secret Sith Lord and upon looking around noticed no other figures. Continuing to stealth, he followed at a distance.

[Sao Nova Europa]

Yang was in the lower levels of Coruscant. Having barely managed to escape with his life from the Jedi Temple, this seemed to the Jedi as the natural place to hide to. 'I need to lie low and wait for the best moment to strike at the heart of this... Empire.' Walking in the dark alleys of Level 5, one of the lowest levels one could reach, he entered a cantina. Eschewing drinking, Yang was never a patron of such establishments. Yet here he was now, looking for a job. While he hid from the Clones, he needed a way to make some money.

The place was crowded with people drinking, chatting and laughing. A loud jazz music played in the background.

"Heard you are looking for a waiter," Yang said to the barkeeper, a young man in his twenties with brown hair and light beard. "I would be interested in the job."

"You?" the barkeeper chuckled as he sized up the Jedi. "You don't look the type. I would prefer some babe as waitress, she would be bringing a lot more costumers. What's your qualifications?"

Yang waved his arm as he softly said, "You know that I am hard-working individual."

"I know you are a hard-working individual. I... I...I will hire you."

"Thanks."

[The Anarcho-Syndicalist Commune]

Inera Atala
Hoth

Inera watched over the howling tundra as another speeder blasted towards the compound she and her squad had been watching. Nox, kneeling next to her, viewed through infared goggles. Inera's own Arkanian eyes allowed her to make out the speeder rider easily. Nox shifted a bit and said "Two or one riders ma'am?"

Inera breathed "It appears to be one, but looks can be decieving. For all we know it could be two Jawas in a coat." She reached up and touched her comms device "Wampa, you have a better view?"

The commando's voice quickly answered "Looks like a single rider to me. What are your orders commander?"

Inera whispered "Hold, let them lead us to the compound. If they just go back to some mineral mine, then we can finally get off this frozen hunk of rock." Rising to a kneeling position, she watched the speeder disappear beyond the Horizon. Rising to her full height, Inera began to trod off in the direction of the bike. Nox rose shortly after and began to follow her.

After a few hundred meters, Nox chimed up "Forgive me for asking ma'am, but is there something inherently displeasing to you about Hoth? I would figure an Arkanian like yourself would be glad to be on an arctic world."

Inera didn't miss a beat, answering curtly "It's an old and sad story Nox. You don't need to worry yourself about it. Focus on the mission objective."

The clone fell silent after a curt "Yes commander."

Inera and her squad lacked the connection that many Jedi and their close partners had, mostly due to Inera's complete apathy. That, and when the Clones had tried to do some digging into her past, they found more censorships than the genetic code of Jango Fett. In general, the squad kept their distance from their commander, and Inera let them do their own thing. It worked for all parties involved and made things easier, allowing the group to work like a well oiled machine.

As Inera crested a hilltop, she looked down into the small basin in front of her. A small camp was set up within the dip in the landscape, where the speeder bike had come to rest. The ride of the speeder was walking towards a small tent, which was guarded by a pair of battle droids. Dropping to the ground, she was quickly joined by Nox. A bit of happiness leaked through Inera's shell, completely foreign to her. Blocking it out again, she tapped her comm unit "Wampa, Kath, you have eyes on the camp?"

Kath checked in first, the quiet trooper of the bunch whispering back almost like the wind "Just let me know when I need to take the shot."

Wampa checked in after another minute "I'm set up on the opposite ridge from Kath, also ready to take the shot. Just give me the word."

Inera relayed her orders "On my mark, shoot the droid that is closest to you." Both Kath and Wampa had equipped themselves with Sniper Rifles for the job, due to the lack of likely close quarters combat, specifically modified DC-17ms, making them incredibly deadly from a distance, which they proved on Inera's signal. Two blaster bolts rocket across the icey waster and turned both the droids into hunks of molten metal. Inera once more rose to her feet and made off at a brisk pace towards the camp itself, telling Kath and Wampa to shoot anyone who comes out of the tent. Closing the distance, Inera ordered Nox to stand outside in case something went wrong inside the tent itself.

Stepping inside, Inera found a human and a sephi crouching behind a cot with blaster pistols ready. Using the force with ease, Inera quickly disarmed both of them. She sat down on the cot, and began flipping through a datapad on it to see what information it contained. "Now what interest would the CIS have with Hoth? Either of you care to explain?"

The sephi and the human gave each other knowing glares. The Human opened his mouth to say something but before he could, the sephi elbowed him in the gut, and said "We tell you nothing Jedi scum. You'll just have to kill us."

Inera unsheathed her lightsaber and ignited it, holding the point close to the sephi's face. Letting it hum in that stupid pointed ear for a few seconds, Inera never looked up from the datapad as she said "Believe me it is a tempting option. I have everything I need to charge both of you with treason to the Republic and end your miserable lives with this datapad alone. But I won't do that just yet. I still need to know why you did this."

The human wheezed on the floor for a few moments before coughing "New-". The sephi elbowed him in the gut again, causing the man to cough a great deal more. The elfin creature spat and said "I'll never talk. I will die before you get an-" The sephi suddenly felt her throat close. Inera had raised her hand from the datapad and was now using it to choke the sephi.

Inera knelt next to the man as asked calmly "Why did you steal these files? There's a lot here for just a simple case of trying to sell the Seperatists information. Republic troop presence, shipping logs, inhabited and unihabited parts of the landscape, even fauna reports on the movement of wampas. What could drive a man to steal all this data."

The human seemed to recover from having the breath knocked out of him and wheezed out "I'm a professional thief, I do this for a living. Few weeks back, weird guy, looks like one of those trade federation fellahs, approachs me on Tatooine, gives me a rather large sum of credits and a job to steal this information about Hoth. Tells me to take it here to this drop point when I have it. I don't normally ask questions about this sort of thing, but working for the Seperatists in dangerous business, so I inquired about the nature of the job. All he said was something about a survival bunker, whatever that means."

Inera released the Sephi, letting her drop to the floor and catch her breath. Sheathing her lightsaber once more, she gestured to the door of the tent opposite the one she had entered through. Still never looking up from the Datapad, she said simply "Leave this planet, never return, and never speak of what you saw here." The pair looked at each other before scrambling through the door, the Sephi stopping to spit before dashing out after the human. Inera touched her comm piece, speaking to Kath "Shoot the human, purposefully miss the Sephi."

Two shots rang out outside. Wampa's voice answered for Kath over the speakers "Confirmed head shot on the human, good looking miss on the Sephi. Not to judge commander, but was the killing neccesary?"

"Both of them would have eventually told tale of this event. I'd rather a scared seperatist telling it to her friends about how she barely made it out alive than some smuggler bragging about he survived meeting the Ghost of Arkania. Start packing up and hail a transport, our job here is done."

Inera began to do one more little sweep of the tent, making sure she didn't miss anything. Finally, she was going to be able to leave this frozen reject of a hellhole.

---

Inera finished her sweep of the tent. Not much to be found within. It became clear after only a minute that this was intended to be a drop point and nothing more than that. Finishing looking through the last two small packs of food in the tent, Inera stopped as a great sense of dread began to wash over her. It was... a disturbance in the force, a great tremor the likes of which she had never felt before, even during the worst days of the war. Hundreds, if not thousands, of force sensitive beings all crying out at once, a great yell of pain and destruction that shook through the force across the galaxy. Inera clutched her head as she felt it, the pain almost causing a migraine in her. Falling to her knees, she breathed for a moment. Something truely terrible had happened. Had the Seperatists somehow destroyed Coruscant. There was precedent to planet destroying weapons, but the Seperatists were far too weak to truely have anything like that in their arsenal. On top of that there wasn't any other great loss of life, just creatures Inera could only guess were Jedi. Suddenly, a much more ominous feeling from the force that Inera could only interpret as GET DOWN NOW.

Two blaster shots ripped through the top of the tent. Snow began to pour in from outside. It became somewhat clear immediately what had happened to Inera. She had never truely trusted the clone army, perhaps because of her own issues, but it still seemed far too convienient to her for an army to have been already made and prepared for war with the CIS. She had felt it was only a matter of time before they all turned on the Jedi and the Republic. Though she had mostly forgotten those feelings over the past three years, but they all came rushing back now that her own troopers were attacking her. Getting up into a kneeling position, she waited for something to happen. Then, slowly, she heard movement outside. The light crunching of snow. Nox was on the move. She halted her brething as best she could, using meditation techniques she had learned as a youngling to calm down her heart. Slowly, the barrel of Nox's blaster peeked through the flaps of the ten. Inera kept still until the last possible second.

The moment Nox was mostly through the flap, Inera lept into action, using the force to pull Nox fully inside. Igniting her lightsaber she used it to lop the blaster in half before bringing the blade forward to try and stab the Commando. Nox sidestepped and tapped the gauntlet of his armor, causing a small vibroblade to appear out of his wrist, which he brought forward to jab into Inera. She managed to avoid the small wrist-mounted blade and brought her lightsaber around to try and slice off the clone's hand. Nox managed to pull his wrist back but not before Inera turned to face him and gave a force enhanced Sparta kick to the Commando's chest. Nox was sent flying outside of the tent with Inera running out after him. Before Nox got a chance to resituate himself, Inera brought her lightsaber in a slash and cut off the head of the rogue Commando. Her victory was short lived as she was forced to dodge another sniper shot.

Picking up the corpse of Nox to use on her back as a sort of shield, Inera got aboard the speeder bike that had been left by the smuggler, and rocketed off back across the tundra away from the tent. After she had put a few miles between herself and her former troopers, Inera dismounted the bike and got to work. She wouldn't be able to do much until both Kath and Wampa were dead, because if there was one thing that Inera knew they were good at, it was hunting things. She stripped the armor off of Nox's body and donned it. It was a little baggy, but it served it's purpose. She donned her robe over it in a look not dissimilar to one she had seen General Kenobi wear multiple times during the war. Making sure everything was secure, she raised her hood over head and knelt in the snow, reaching out with the force for the Clone's signatures. She felt several tauntauns, a lone wampa, and then, a mile off and closing, the familiar feelings of Kath and Wampa the clone.

Deciding that the speeder would attract too much attention, Inera made off on a path that she would get behind the clones and be able to get the jump on the pair of them. Any other species would be bothered by the growing blizzard around them, including clones, but she was Arkanian. Ice was in her blood. She pushed through, keeping a careful eye on the tundra around her. When another's eyes might be blinded by the snow or unable to pierce the dark of the encroaching night, Inera was able to easily see thanks to her ability to see the infared spectrum. The Commandos, as good as they were, were now hunting on their prey's home ground, and things were not looking good for them. Inera could see them coming from far away, heat leaking from the chinks in their armor. Smiling to herself, she began to curve around behind the clones. Suddenly she caught herself... feeling something. Happiness, or a sick form of it on the thought of... killing her former co-warriors... granted she had never really liked Kath, and Wampa had challenged her authority more times than she had wanted, but it was still a huge shift for her. Marking it up to the massive shift towards the Dark Side she was feeling with the mass death of the Jedi. With that the sick joy she felt was replaced with rage. She began to run after the Clones, who had stopped on a nearby ridge.

The clones watched through goggles at the Speeder that had stopped up ahead. They chattered to themselves, words that Inera could not here both because of distance and the roaring in her ears. These two and their ilk were responsible for the death of everyone, everyone else who was still alive that she had cared about. Her master, those she looked up to on the council, the younglings she had helped teach before the war on Coruscant, many of them now Padawans, all of them were dead or dying. One by one she felt the lights remaining after the initial purge begin to go out. She took a great force enhanced leap, landing on the shoulders of Kath and stomping him into the ground as she ignited her lightsaber. Wampa backpeddaled quickly and begin to shoot at Inera with his DC-17, now switched into blaster mode. Inera easily deflected the shots into the ground, beginning to walk towards the clone, blocking shots with her lightsaber, easily pushing up to Wampa. The clone however was quick and managed to land a kick to Inera's gut. Though the kick was not strong enough to really hurt her in her new armor, it did cause her to recoil a bit and drop her lightsaber a small distance away. The clone brought his blaster up and said "Not so great without your lightsaber are you Jedi?"

Inera spat and said "I can still kill you with an arm behind my back." Just before Wampa opened fire again, Inera leaped into the air, and brought her leg down in a hammer kick onto Wampa's hands, slamming the blaster out of his hands. Using the force to push Wampa back again, Inera unsheathed the wrist blade of the Katarn Armor, and rushed forward. Wampa managed to push himself up and avoid Inera's first jabs with the blade. Unsheathing his own he engaged in hand to hand with the Jedi Knight. It was both scary and thrilling at the same time for Inera. Somehow, whatever had happened at shaken loose the wall Inera had put around her emotions following her "trial". It was dangerous, she was not used to this pure level of feeling. After a few moments of fighting with Wampa, Inera managed to duck under a blow and jab her vibroblade through the chink in the upper leg of the Commando's armor, holding it within the wound for as long as she could. The clone held his head back and roared as sonic waves from the blade ripped through his body, causing signifigant interior damage. Pulling out the blade and jabbing it under Wampa's helmet, the yells turned into gurgles and then fell silent. Pulling the blade out, Inera recoiled as she felt a blaster shot wound the back of her leg.

Turning around she saw that Kath had somewhat recovered and was taking aim with his blaster in sniper mode. Quickly jumping out of the way of the next shot, Inera used the force to grab her lightsaber again before charging at Kath again. As another shot fired at her, Inera raised her blade to block the attack but was sent flying back for her efforts. She briefly considered her options. She could always try to choke out the clone now, but the council... as far as she new the council no longer existed. Rising with a vengeance and dodging the next shot that Kath sent her way, she reached out with the force and took hold of Kath's throat, she lifted the clone after the ground. The Commando dropped his gun and began clawing at his throat. Inera squeezed harder and began to shake him, until with a sickening snap, Kath went limp. Dropping the body, Inera strode over to it, and to ensure that it was dead, she decapitated the corpse. She repeated the process with Wampa's remains.

Getting back aboard the Speeder, Inera decided against returning to the small republic base on the planet, instead opting to ride towards the small spaceport used by mineral prospecters and smugglers in the nearby Jagged Hills. Hopefully she would find either a ship to steal or a sympathetic soul there.

---

Inera's speeder crested the ridge. The glowing spaceport shone below her, casting light out over the tundra. A few ships glided in and out of open hangars. While the Republic run spaceport a few dozen miles to the west of here had far more activity than the smaller settlement before Inera, it would be crawling with a horde of Clone Troopers who would all want her blood. Even if she could fight her way through them, she would need to find a small ship and escape the AA guns on the settlement. Jagged Hills on the other hand was a true backwater cesspit. Back at the start of the war Inera had been sent on a mission to Tatooine, and she honestly thought that this little pile of crap on Hoth could give Mos Eisley a run for it's money as the greatest hive of scum and villainy in the Galaxy. Spitting, she guided the speeder down the hill and into the spaceport.

From the intel she had been given when she landed, Jagged Hills was run by Jorba the Hutt, a nephew or cousin of Marlo the Hutt, a member of the grand council that ran Hutt Space. Though Jorba himself was reportedly not on the best of terms with his far more powerful relative, the Hutt's did not take assasult on family lightly. She would have to be careful not to upset Jorba for the period she was staying in Jagged Hills. Inera pushed past a few men who appeared to be the guards or soldiers of this outpost. It was difficult to tell because the wore no distinct uniform, instead just looking like bounty hunters with some form of badge that they strutted their chest out to display like it was a republic war hero medallion of some kind. Inera had always hated that kind of thing. They had tried to give her one following a particularly useful mission on Dantooine, but she had refused it. It was a wordly attachment and pride she didn't need in her life.

Inera quickly found signs pointing in the direction of the cantina. Best case scenario, she could find someone to smuggle her off this snowball, and worst case, she could at least get a drink. The first win-win she had had all day. That was positive. Hey that was new, she hadn't been positive before. What had those clones done to her. Oh yeah, betray her after three years of camraderie and support. They had tried to snipe her to death, not even fight her with some honor. Stepping into the cantina, she walked to the bar and ordered a drink from the bartender. Reaching out with her mind, she began to read and measure intentions around the bar. Most of the bar-goers were unintrested or passed out, and the ones who weren't were wondering more about her being a woman calmly in a smuggler's bar and not whether or not she was a Jedi. Except for one. A man sat at a table in the corner and sipped his drink, trying to avoid her gaze while he read from a holopad. Picking up her glass, Inera strode over to him and sat down across from him. Setting her glass down, she looked at the man and said "I want to hire you."

The man tapped at the holopad and said "Why does the weird new woman want to hire a simple smuggler like myself? Especially one with such skills as myself? You'd have to be either rich and more experienced than you look or just not very experienced at all."

Inera leaned forward on the table "I want someone who knows what to look for. You've been looking at me funny from behind that datapad since the moment I walked in, which tells me your more observant than 99% of the people in this settlement, and also tells me you know what you're doing when you consider this job. Tell me, what is the holo news saying?"

The man scoffed, placed down the datapad to reveal a face in it's late 20's, scarred from years of fighting and surviving. The man may have been charming or even handsome had he led a different life. He looked Inera in the eyes, unusual for a human to do so in her experience and responded "That the Supreme Chancellor was almost killed by a group of Jedi earlier today and that the entire order have been declared traitors to the Republic. Hence why every single one of them has a pretty decently large bounty on their heads. Luckily for you, I'm the only one who bothers to read proper news out here, so you'll get, I don't know, two, maybe three days of peace before the Republic shows it's face around here and Jorba finds out exactly how much you're pretty little head is worth."

Inera took a sip of her drink before pointing at him "But you won't tell him, for some reason or another. And that means you'll take my job. All you're trying to do is get a better price at this point."

The man grinned as he set down his prospective drink. Wiping his mouth and leaning forward towards Inera, he asked "And what would that job be. I'm not going to the inner world's or deep core for you, and I don't really see where else a fugitive like yourself would be going. So I think you're wa-"

The man was interrupted by Inera sliding a rather large credit chip across the table to him, part of her stipend that she had been saving in case of emergencies like this one. The man shut his mouth mid-sentence. Seeing that she had his attention, Inera said "That's the half of your payment you get now. The other half you get when we get to our location."

The man picked up the chip and began inspecting it closely saying "I had heard rumors that you folks were rich as shit, but damn. All right, name your destination, I'll have us there in no time."

Inera raised her eyebrow and asked "Have you ever heard of a world called Dromund Kaas?"

The man finished his inspection of the chip and said "Rings somewhat of a bell. Old world, old people on it. Used to be occupied by some sort of cult until very, very recently. Way out in the backwater even compared to here. Why do you want to go there? Were those cultists related to your friends or something?"

Inera shook her head before saying "A very good friend of mine is an archaeologist who is well established on the planet and can give me a place to stay. It also has a very strong aura to it that can mask my own in case anyone talented in ways similar to me tries to find me."

The man looked around once more and said "You're very trusting for a person who just had everything they knew come burning down."

Inera finished her drink and said "We can read minds you know. Now that our deal is out of the way, introductions are somewhat needed. Inera Atala." She extended her hand over the table for the man to shake.

The man grabbed it and shook hard but brief. "Norl Hinkath. Most call me Phantom though. We should depart ASAP, the sooner we leave, the less Republic ships scouting the outer rim we'll have to deal with."

Inera watched as Norl gathered his things into his small backpack and stood up. She followed his lead and walked with him out of the Cantina, heading towards the "premium" hangars at the center of the spaceport. Several ships jetted in and out as they approached. While Hoth itself was not a major spot on the galactic charts, the vast mineral deposits were attracting large amount of settlers to the planet, many of whom did not want to pay Republic taxes or risk even being forced to give up their latest haul to support the war effort. That meant that a thriving criminal smuggling business for those who brought their goods to be shipped out of Jagged Hills and not the Republic's sanctioned outposts. Inera watched as various bounty hunters, smugglers, miners, and Hutt guards made their way around the small buzzing hub of activity. While the hangars on the outskirts of town were still active, these were Jorba's personally sanctioned landing pads, used only by Smugglers he favored. As Inera and Norl rounded a corner, the smuggler suddenly pulled the Jedi back around. A harsh whisper, not intended for anyone really, punctured Inera's hearing "Karablast..."

"What, Clones?"

"Worse, Jorba's personal guard. Likes to call them Mandals, give a sense that they're actually Mandalorians. Not even close though. Really, I could go through two of them myself but typically they denote Jorba's presence, and I don't want to ruin my already fragile reputation with him."

Inera was about to respond when she sensed an impending attack. The club knocked her over the head before she could even react.

---

Coming to in a small stone cell, Inera jumped, still reliving the last moments of conciousness. Shaking her head, she found herself looking across at the chained form of Norl. Grimacing, she streched out her muscles, The thugs didn't appear to have searched the pair all too thoroughly, as Inera felt her lightsaber still pushing against her side where she had hidden it in the Katarn armor. Norl chose this moment to speak up "This one is my bad."

Inera spat a bit of blood from her mouth where she had bit her tongue at some point. Licking it off her lips, she replied "I suppose you want me to ask why it's your fault."

"Nah, but it's my bad."

Inera sat herself up crosslegged, reaching out with her mind. Hoth was such a backwater that they couldn't even afford to use proper stun cuffs on her. That or they really didn't know she was a Jedi. Inera reached out with the force, and quickly explored the mechanism behind the lock. Nudging it open, she pulled her wrists from the cuffs, and proceeded to walk over to Norl and release his wrists. Looking around the room and making sure that she didn't see any cameras pointed at the cell, Inera, pulled at the wall behind them with the force, pulling it inwards to make it look like it had been blown in by an outside force. Norl took the hint and jumped out onto the street below. Inera quickly followed and the pair ran off into the town from the small building which they had been detained in.

When they were certain they had lost anyone who might have been have been tailing them, Norl pulled Inera into a dark alley, and sat down to catch his breath. Mist blew from his mouth in heavy waves as he sat panting. Inera watched the street, as snow began to cover the road. Norl finally coughed and said "Right, we gotta get off world, and quickly. We're lucky that wasn't Jorba's crew that put us in that cell."

Inera kept her eyes on the street as she asked "Who did then?"

"Local group. Call themselves the Smuggler's Guild. Really it's just a way too make them look more official. Thugs mostly, half of them haven't even been off world. Jorba hires them to transport any 'excess' mineral from the mines direct to his freighters, such as myself, so he can cut out the Republic entirely on some of his deals. Sadly, because they're among the few who can navigate the ice without a guide, they have quite a bit of pull to them. And since I refused to join their club and have a cool ship, they've had a bone to pick with me for the past three years."

"How serious is our situation then"

"Not too bad. As long as we don't cause a gunfight in the streets, we should be able to get to my ship. Provided one thing."

"Enlighten me."

Norl sighed and said "The Mandals are 'guarding' my ship. In reality, they know that they can rip me off of money without pissing off their boss too much. That or Jorba wants me dead, but I doubt that. If it is the first case I'm going to need more credits to make this job profitable."

Inera did not react. Instead she tucked her lightsaber back into her armor and helped Norl off the ground. Using her armor's vibroblade, she deftly removed the hood from her robe and tied the garment tight so as to conceal her newly found armor. Looking both ways, she stepped out onto the street and gestured for Norl to follow. Explaining as they walked towards the hangars, Inera said calmly "Here's the plan. Walk natural."

"What?"

"You'd be surprised at the average intelligence level of beings in the galaxy. If you keep your head down and walk normally in a crowded area, you are far less likely to be noticed than trying to sneak around it."

Soon enough the pair found themselves in a crowd around the hangars. Everyone was buzzing with some form of news. Inera reached out with the force to try and get a sense of what had people in such a bother.

Traitors...

Jedi...

Peace...

Empire...

The last word in particular had a darkness that seemed to hang around it in everyone in the port's head. Norl pulled Inera through the crowd and in front of the hangar, facing the group of ragged men Norl called the Mandals. One particularly scraggly one saw Norl and laughed saying "Well, look who finally pulled himself out of the cantina. How's it going Norl? You keeping well?"

Norl coughed and said in a more panicky voice than the one he had used with Inera "Not bad Derrick. Just got word of a job further out in the rim. Heading out there while I have some free time."

"Is that so? Well Norl, here's the issue. The boss recieved, shall we call it an anonymous tip, that you were skimming from the pot. Now, I know that you know that in Hutt culture this is a great offense. So, I'm under orders here to clap you in some irons and take you straight to Jorba."

"Why aren't you then?"

"Well, I know the big man better than yourself, and I know what will cool 'im down. If you made the pot right so to speak, and give Jorba some time to cool down, I'm sure he'll be right and ready to hire you for a new job when you get back from wherever it is that you're going."

Norl reached into his pocket and pulled out the credit chip Inera had given him in the Cantina. The Mandal looked at the chip and laughed, saying in his boistrous voice "This really all you got Norl?"

Inera stepped forward, and with a subtle movement of her hand suggested to Derrick "That should be more than enough."

Derrick looked at the robed woman and scrunched his brow. His mind clearly wanted to accept the force suggestion but something was stopping him. "Oi, Norl, who's this then? Some new alien girlfriend of yours. What race is she anyways, never seen any of 'er type before."

Inera answered for Norl. "I'm the one who contacted him about the job. He'll be paid quite handsomely for it and be able to right whatever isn't covered with what he just gave you if that's not enough, though like I said, That should be more than enough."

Derrick's brow scrunched again before it calmed and the large man said "She's right boys, this is more than enough." Some protest came from the other Mandals but Norl shut them down saying in a much harsher voice "Are you lot questioning my orders? I said it's more than enough. Get on your way Norl, before I change my mind."

Inera and Norl pushed past the Mandals into the hangar, where a newer freighter was waiting for them. It wasn't much compared to what Inera was used to, but it would do. Once they were on board, Norl quickly brought them out of orbit and began to punch in the coordinates of Dromund Kaas when Inera suddenly felt something come to her from across the force. Not even true information, just a pure feeling. Inera stopped Norl and punched in a new set of Coordinates that seemed to come to her like something out of a dream. Norl raised an eyebrow and asked "And where the hell are those going to take us."

Inera sat in the co-pilots seat and said "Odessen."

"Never heard have Odessen before."

"Neither have I."

Norl opened his mouth to say something but quickly shut it, just shaking his head and punching the ship into hyperdrive.

[The Cyberiad Council]

Vaulik Nevest
Ajan Kloss, Cademimu sector, Outer Rim

"Come in Nevest."

"Go ahead, Chevy," Vaulik said into his commlink, hauling himself up onto the root of a massive jungle plant, breathing heavy.

"Everything alright?"

"I'm fine, just a little more cardio than I was expecting."

The clone chuckled, "That's what I was going to tell you; we finished the scans, and Devro thinks you'd be better off angling south and following the river. She figures the roots wouldn't be as big thanks to the running water. But, we can see your position, and I don't know it would make much of a difference at this point."

"Probably not," Vaulik sighed. "I already caught a glimpse of the ruins a few trees back. Tell Devro to find me a better route back."

"Roger that."

Vaulik tucked his commlink back into it's pouch on his belt and got back on his feet. Focusing on his breathing, he took a second to center himself before breaking into a sprint. The ground between him and his target was a proverbial minefield of towering roots and massive boulders. Every step brought him closer to the hurdles, but just as he was running out of root, he lept into the air. An invisible upwelling took him higher than his physicality should allow and kept him in the air as if he weighed practically nothing. He sailed for several feet before lighting on another root and leaping again. With every impact he alternated his footing. The repeated jumping carried him closer and closer until he eventually landing at the outskirts of the stone ruins.

His team had found remnants of artificial stone structures stretching for miles beneath the top layer of the planet's biomass. They could be some sort of aqueducts or city boundaries, but regardless of what they were, several of them converged at the location Vaulik was now taking in with his own eyes for the first time. The rest of his detachment of the Service Corps was a few miles away at basecamp, still unloading the ship while he broke away to get the exploration underway. The ruins had been noted in an earlier, but brief Republic survey before the war, but weren't deemed as necessarily important. That was, of course, until Vaulik petitioned to be allowed to study them.

Stepping inside the large circle of stones, Vaulik pulled out a basic scanner equipped with simple telemetry and did a brief sweep, the data being sent back to base camp while he carried on with a visual inspection. The structures were old, with enough weathering over the millennia to strip away any writing or images, but that was sometimes what Vaulik liked best.

Taking off his pack, and setting it to the ground, Vaulik sat in the center of the stone circle, adopting a meditative stance. With a deep breath, he opened himself up to the Force. Whispers of the past started to emanate from the stones, emotions, intentions, memories... They were all a jumble, but Vaulik began the tedious process of calming his mind and focusing on them one at at time.

Time seemed to melt away as Vaulik immersed himself, but suddenly, he felt a searing pain tear through the force. Gasping, his eyes flew open, and he gripped his side. The though for sure something had shot him, but no, it wasn't him...Then he felt it again, more and more. The entire fabric of the Force seemed to shake. Vaulik felt ill, he closed his mind to the force trying to stem the tide of fear, anguish, and pain.

"Come in Nevest."

Vaulik reached for his commlink, "What is it, Chevy?"

"We have an urgent communication from the Service Corps, we need you back here right away."

"What did they say?"

"Best you hear it in person."

"I'll be right there," Vaulik replied, shakily getting to his feet, his head still swimming with whatever he'd sensed.

---

Staggering back to camp, Vaulik looked around to see if any of the others had felt the disturbance, but everything was silent.

"Hello?" Vaulik called out, with a creeping sensation something was wrong.

"Devro? Chevy? ... anyone?"

All the tables and tents were set up, equipment still lying in their crates ready to unpack. Slowly, Vaulik reached for his lightsaber. Hearing movement behind him, the Devaronian ignited the yellow blade just as the first shot rang out. With a short movement, he put the blade in the path of the bolt, causing the burst of laser to fly off harmlessly into the jungle.

More shots leapt towards him. Trying to stay calm, Vaulik reacted: snapping the blade from one space to another, ensuring it was between him and the bolts. Focusing, he leapt again, using the force to carry him up to a high branch as several blaster bolts crossed through the space he'd just been. Looking down, he could see his attackers ... clones?

Their aim snapped back up to him and unleashed another barrage. Vaulik's saber managed to block the shots, but he knew it was only a matter of time before one of them made it through. Extinguishing his saber, Vaulik flipped off the branch, tucking into a roll as he hit the ground and flipped up right in front of Burrow. The clone tried to adjust his aim, but Vaulik shoved his arm forward, a wave of force knocking the trooper back, but not off his feet. Taking advantage of his lack of balance, Vaulik ignited his saber, bringing it down through burrow's rifle.

No time to rest, Vaulik spun round, blocking another two blasts from the remaining clones before jumping into the cover of a bush.

"He's over here!" Burrow shouted, but Vaulik was already moving, trying his best to stay hidden in the brush.

Why were they attacking him? The Corps had assigned his group three troopers, taken from the the front lines due to injuries, since they were going beyond Republic controlled space. He'd worked with Chevy before, but Burrow and Trek were unfamiliar.

Vaulik could hear them rooting through the bushes behind him, but he was distracted, tripping over something. Scrambling back to his feet, he looked to see what it was, and his stomach sank. Devro... his friend and colleague, shot in the side... from behind... With his hand shaking, he reached out, and grabbed her hand, reaching out with the Force even though the clones were closing in.

Devro's last memories hit him like a flood... blaster bolts, screaming, but why? Looking back further, he saw for a moment from Devro's eyes and heard what she heard: he saw Chevy, the distinctive blue chevron on his helmet as he held a holocommunicator... "execute order 66..."

Vaulik pulled back his hand, confusion and fear clouding his mind. He was in no state to fight. He could hear the three clones hunting him getting closer. He'd cut Burow's rifle in half, but the trooper no doubt had a pistol or some kind of backup weapon by now. The Jedi decided to wait, letting them get closer...

When they were right on top of him, he leapt out of the bush, igniting his saber. Trek was in front, a quick slice of his saber severing the man's hand. Chevy and Burrow took aim, forcing Vaulik to block their bolts as he advanced. Another upward swing bisected Chevy's rifle, followed up by a swift headbut, Vaulik's horns proving useful and Chevy staggered back.

Burrow, hefting his pistol, got a shot off, winging Vaulik's shoulder, The Jedi howled in pain, sweeping his arm to the side, his exertion in the Force just enough to deflect Burrow's aim, causing the next shot to miss. The next second was a blur. Vaulik pivoted, the tip of his blade catching Chevy in the waist, downing him in a scream. Then Vaulik lunged, a sloppy move, but it got the job done, his slaber melting point-first into Burrow's chest.

Chevy was still alive, barely, and Trek was cradling the stump where his hand had been. In a panic, Vaulik turned and ran.

Making a break for the ship, Vaulik sprinted up the rear ramp and grabbed the controls. He had a limited experience piloting the shuttle, but it would have to be enough. As quickly as he dared, he fired up the engines and closed the ramps. Slowly, the ship rose into the air and started to climb, looking back, Vaulik caught a glimpse of Trek, gripping a pistol in his remaining hand, firing desperately at the ship as it pulled away...

---

The Outer Rim, Days later...

Vaulik tried meditating, his injured shoulder a painful anchor that kept him from any meaningful connection to the force. He'd been trying to reach out to someone, anyone, but it had been mere hours after he left Ajan Kloss that he'd recieved Master Kenobi's message. Vaulik didn't know where to go.

But, eventually, mercifully, Vaulik felt it; so strong and so clear he needn't even meditate to receive it. A call to Odessen. With nowhere else to go, Vaulik punched the destination to the Nav Computer and jumped to hyperspace.

[Okayanos]

Jedi General Dan Brovil
Allst Prime
Some Clones Are Born

---

THE RUMBLING hum of the LAAT's engine had become a comfort over the course of the Allst Prime Campaign. Orange sunlight filtered through the gunship's door slats, casting stripes across the inhabitants. Motes of dust in the dry air floated slowly through the beams of light, and beads of sweat glinted as they ran trails through the grime caked onto the faces of the passengers inside. 15 men stood inside, clasping the handholds inside. All of them had helmets, but no one was masochistic enough to put their bucket on before it was absolutely necessary. 14 of the passengers had the same face. While they had hairstyles, tattoos, or scars that would tell them apart, the underlying features were all the same. The 15th was the only one with a different appearance, though he at least shared black hair and brown eyes with the others- the Clones. Dan Brovil ran his fingers through the fuzz of a beard he'd let come in after attempting to stay clean-shaven for three years, to little avail. Another Jedi might have had a rousing speech prepared to psyche their troops up for the coming battle. Dan did not. He'd tried during the start of the Allst Prime campaign, when the 411th Expeditionary Force's armor had still been clean and white, and they'd believed that they wouldn't be staying here long. That had been three years ago, and three years is enough time to change a man. The plasteel armor of the clone soldiers had been painted in blacks and grays, face visors changed so that they reflected red-orange in the light. Dan had long since ditched his tan training tunic, swapping it for a simple undersuit that afforded greater ease of motion, along with armored boots and gloves, and a mask of his own that he'd don when the clones went buckets on. Only the short robe and hood on top of everything else and the folded saberstaff at his side gave him away as a Jedi. A light in the cabin changed from green to red, signaling that their merciful, un-helmeted reprieve had come to an end. The passenger compartment became a flurry of motion as faces were covered. Dan held a breath in as he fitted his mask on, finding the seal around his neck. It was only when the visual sensors activated, tinting his vision in a faint green, that he let it out, filtered through the mask.

"Touchdown in 30 seconds." He spoke to the T-visored faceplates facing him. He could see the emotion behind each, sense it like it were needles poking through his gloves. Most of it was coming from his second-in-command, CT-6264, ranked Captain. Dan knew that the clone captain, concealed behind his tooth-painted helm and gripping his DC-15A like it would save his life, preferred the name Brutus. It was very fitting for the man behind the helmet. Dan's focus was on Brutus alone when he next spoke. "Anyone who runs is a Separatist. Anyone that stands still, is a well-trained Separatist. We've nearly taken this world, just need to clean out the mess. Give 'em hell!" The gunship drifted to a halt, and the doors flew open. Allst Prime's forests had been a thing of beauty before the fighting had kicked off, but after the campaign, it was hard to find one that didn't bear blaster scars. Dan leapt down from the ship alongside the Clone Troopers, all of them yelling war cries and threats in Mando'a that he still didn't quite know the meaning of. Surrounding them, more LAATs spewing out footsoldiers- this final push against the Separatist base would be the greatest show of force the 411th could muster, to claim this planet for good. Dan gripped the hilt of his saberstaff, letting it flip out to its full extended length, though he did not yet activate the twin plasma blades. As the last troopers hit the ground, Dan looked towards the south, where Allst Prime's sun was setting. Sunset and nightfall was always the best time for attacking, and switching on his lightsaber would give the Seps a glowing yellow target to aim for.

"Brutus-" Dan found the clone Captain was at his side in an instant. "You're leading group B. While I lead my group around to flank the base, you take the direct route. Anything not wearing clone armor or holding a lightsaber dies." There was a bizarre emotion that was almost predatory from the Captain as he turned, barking an order at one half of the assembled soldiers and motioning for them to make final preparations for a frontal assault. Dan was almost surprised out how easily he gave the order for the Separatists to die, considering that they were against a force composed of more organics than droids. Life was meant to be a sacred thing, and he so easily commanded it to be snuffed out. Dan looked down at a patch of crushed white flowers, a type so common that it was considered a weed by settlers, laying flat in one of Brutus' heavy footprints. "How poetic." The Jedi thought, before raising his gaze to the remaining expectant T-visors.
"Group A, you're with me." He didn't raise his voice overly loud- their helms were all commlinked. "We flank the base to catch them by surprise. Should we successfully gain entry, we take anything that looks like useful intel. If things go sideways, use a green flare to signal the LAATs to come in for pickup, red to call for an aerial strike." More than 50 helmets nodded, understanding him perfectly, just as they were programmed to.
"May-" Dan caught himself before finishing the phrase. "-make it count, men."

---

CT-6264 'Brutus'
Allst Prime
Paint It Black

---

CT-6264 wondered if it was some uncured quirk of his genetic programming that caused him to feel so alive when insurgent movement sprung up on motion scanners. Standard operating procedure drilled into clone trainees was, upon unknown enemy contact, to stop and assess the threat before addressing it with the appropriate tactics. Brutus held a fist up to signal the troopers behind him to stop. He pressed a single button on his wrist comm, sending a low, artificial tone out. Radio silence. Brutus had a very specific idea of what 'appropriate tactics' would be in this situation. With practiced care, he withdrew the DC-15A's grenade launcher attachment from his belt, fixing it to the blaster's long barrel. A hand signal, a single finger making an arcing motion, followed by a number three. Ready grenades, Incendiaries. Brutus stalked forward carefully, until he could turn and put his back to one of the towering pine trees. He stared intently at his helmet HUD's motion detector, fixating on the blips of Separatist activity, picturing them in his mind. The Separatist Insurgents were human, mostly, with a couple aliens scattered among them. They looked like a ragtag group, but they were cunning and determined, and had given a hell of a fight for the three years that the 411th had been deployed on Allst Prime. Brutus supposed that whoever was leading them would be feeling smug, setting up the defensive position they had. They would be used to the more cautious tactics of the early 411th, before the grueling guerrilla campaign had changed them. He toggled the linked scope on for the DC-15A, watching as the automatically moving crosshair flickered into existence in his helmet's display. It took him a moment to cycle through the different modes until he found the grenade launcher sight, designed to measure the arcing distance.

"Burn them all." Brutus thought as he whirled out of his cover. He was the first to fire his incendiary payload outward, followed shortly by the others. A series of projectiles arcing out through the trees, leaving faint trails of smoke. He tracked the progress of the projectiles, out, up, back down... and felt himself grin under his helmet when the flames erupted. Brutus activated his wrist comm once more, signaling that radio silence was no longer necessary.
"Shoot anything that isn't one of us! If it looks dead, shoot again to be certain!" He yelled over his shoulder, before leading the charge forward. Brutus could imagine the terror gripping the heart of the insurgents as the forest around them went up in flames, followed by the yelling of countless Clone Troopers rushing their position. "They'll lose, this time. Every single one of those damned traitors."

---

Brutus set his DC-15A aside when he finally had the Insurgent's leader at his mercy, bound to a chair in the Separatist's makeshift command base. He liked to use something more personal for dealing with stubborn leaders. That was why his hand went to the vibroblade sheathed in his boot.
"A droid would've started talking by now." Brutus said as he carefully and deliberately folded the serrated blade out. "Do you pride yourself on being so resilient?" The Insurgent leader, a Gungan of all species, kept his mouth shut. Brutus frowned under his helmet as he inspected his armor in the reflection of the blade. Blaster scoring and blood dotted the dark-painted surface. It would likely never be clean unless he put in a request for an entirely new set. The Gungan's continued silence provoked a kind of rage in the Clone Captain He quite suddenly flew across the room, knocking the Insurgent's chair backward onto the ground and the Gungan along with it.
"I asked you a question, Sep, and I expect an answer." Brutus hissed, leaning over the alien. "I think I've treated you extremely well, considering how difficult you made our campaign. Was it some kind of sick joke to you, to keep us stuck here fighting against you for THREE YEARS?! Three long kriffing years you kept me waiting here, waiting incessantly for an order to nuke the entire forest into slag, an order that never came. I should torture you for that. I really, really should. Maybe I could cut one of those eyestalks off, hm? Would that loosen up your tongue?" He held the vibroknife's blade close to the gungan's eye, as if to emphasize his point. "What I should do is switch on my vibroknife here, and hold right above your face with the point down, like this." Brutus demonstrated, holding onto the weapon by just the pommel. "And leave it. A grip like this isn't easy to maintain, you know. Even Clones get tired. It would slip, eventually. And then you'd see how a dropped vibroblade almost burrows through flesh. But the most unpleasant part of that kind of torture isn't the stabbing, it's the anticipation. Those beady eyes would have to stay fixated on the knife, wondering if your eyes are tricking you, or if my hold is weakening. You'd have to imagine the pain at some point, and your mind would come up with something far worse than the reality. Thoughts like that can break someone, hard-" Brutus' comlink beeped, interrupting him. He sighed, before drawing one of his DC-17S pistols and blasting the Gungan between the eyestalks. The alien let out a shriek of terror before its brain was fried, and Brutus was proud of himself for finally getting something out of the stubborn creature.

"Yes, General Brovil?" Brutus answered the Jedi's call.

"The orbital factory plans are in Republic hands, and their servers are bein' wiped right now. You get anything important out of their commander?" General Brovil asked.

"Entertainment." Brutus thought.

"Nothing of substance, sir." Brutus said. "He was resilient, if nothing else. I ended up putting him out of his misery."

"That's fine, the important thing is that we can haul jets outta here. Me and the 411th are going to say some goodbyes to the locals before we go, you should be there."

Brutus would have laughed. Him, saying heartfelt goodbyes to the civvies they'd been protecting? No, his purpose was war, violence, and everything that came with it. All Brutus could do would be to prepare himself for the next battle they were thrown into. But he didn't laugh.

"I'll see if I can make it, sir." He was ready to end the call then and there, but General Brovil spoke again before he could.

"Don't us waiting. See you soon, Brutus." The Jedi cut the line first. Brutus grumbled to himself when he realized the Jedi's words meant he would be expected at whatever goodbyes they were having.

---

Order 66

---

Jedi General Dan Brovil
Acclamator-class assault ship 'Triumph', in orbit over Allst Prime

---

The festivities were something Dan would never forget, despite how humble the party had been. The setup was more akin to a barbecue than a grand victory celebration. The local settlers had brought food and drink out, children had laughed as they wove between groups of adults, and someone even set off a few fireworks. Dan remembered shaking hands with the settlement's leader, seeing gratitude in the man's eyes. He could recall stealing a kiss from Kallie, the settler girl- woman, really, regardless of how young he'd felt- that had been making eyes at him each time he was in town, after they'd danced together for a time that felt both too long and too short. Jedi Code be damned, Dan knew a good woman when he met one and he'd taken more than just a liking to Kallie. He'd liked being able to finally spend some time with her during peace, to talk with the settlement's men and the 411th's clones all at once over drinks, to look up at the twinkling stars between the treetops. "By the stars, I'm homesick already." Dan realized as he was boarding the shuttle that would take him back up to the Triumph. He didn't feel the sort of alarm that a Jedi should upon noticing feelings of attachment. He'd long ago accepted that he was no longer fit to be a Jedi, and dreaded the moment when he'd be forced to return to temple life.

The dull gray halls of the Triumph were a stark contrast to Allst Prime's forests, a sight he thought he'd gotten used to. As the massive carrier ship began to pull away from Allst Prime's gravitational field, he couldn't find it in himself to do anything but sit in his quarters, not to meditate but to watch out the viewport as Allst Prime- the home he'd fought for- began to shrink smaller and smaller, until the ship jumped into hyperspace. Dan laid back in his bed, not even changed out of the clothes he'd worn down on the planet. He wasn't expecting that his rest would be interrupted, but he could sense the Clones outside. He did them the favor of opening the door, before either trooper could knock.
"Did I miss a briefing? We finally heading back to Coruscant for some R&R?" Both clones were silent. The soldiers' feelings were... clouded, in a strange way that Dan couldn't quite define. It made him uneasy, and he unclasped his lightsaber from his belt, snapping the hilt out to its complete length. "Something go wrong..?" Dan asked, more cautiously. When he saw the clone trooper's blasters begin to raise towards him, a sense of alarm shot down the Jedi's spine as his senses confirmed the intent of the troopers, though nothing of their reasons. Twin blades of yellow plasma sprung forth, whirling and intercepting the blaster bolts. Dan moved swiftly to defend himself, the force propelling him beyond human speed. He was hesitant to harm either clone, electing instead to put one out with a spinning heel kick to the helmet, while using the force to throw the other back against the hallway outside. His senses were less clouded now, and told him that the entire ship was nothing but danger. Dan fled, sprinting at breakneck speeds and trying his hardest to avoid confronting any more troopers.

Dan eventually made his way to the hangar, stealing one of the ship's Nu-class shuttles to make his escape. He had to run, to put stars between himself and the Triumph, while he still could. The capital ship's laser batteries were charging up, and he could hear an order to scramble fighters on the comms. "Even you, Brutus?" He thought glumly. The Clone Captain might have been one of the few beings crazy enough to resist whatever was driving his troopers mad. Dan searched through the Shuttle's navicomputer, looking for any recent coordinates that would put as much space as possible between him and the turncoat clones. Finally finding one that was suitably far, he punched the hyperdrive in a blur of motion, and prayed that the Triumph wouldn't be able to track him.

---

Space, Exact Location Uncertain

Dan felt a crushing weight in his chest when the message of Master Kenobi reached him. He'd been a fool, to believe- to hope- that the incident on board the Triumph had been only a single occurence. The Order... everyone, would most likely be dead. Dan would most likely be dead, if he dared to make port on any Republic-controlled world. "Allst Prime..." he realized, and the sinking feeling turned into a hollowness. Eventually, like a bell, the call through the force rang sonorously in Dan's mind. It did little to fill the hollow pit of his being, the despair that he could almost feel echoing in the force. This call had to be a trap. Dan answered it all the same- even if it was a trap, the people setting it would be the only ones that would be able to give him answers. He wasn't sure if he would stop them if they tried to kill him, or bring him into custody. Home had been his again, and through his own work, he'd never be able to go back. The Jedi Order wouldn't be friendly to him once they sensed how he'd changed, but the Jedi Order was all that would be waiting for him on this Odessen planet. Numbly, Dan put the coordinates into the shuttle's navicomputer, and it took him more than a couple seconds before he found the strength to make the jump.

[Brusia]

Martius Shan
Odessen
Alliance Base

As Martius was awoken by the newly arrived Afon, he still felt thoroughly exhausted, and reached a hand towards his forehead as that exhaustion was quickly followed by an aching headache. He took a moment to recover before sitting up and turning towards the man who woke him; even in his current state, Martius could sense the Force within him. "Thank the Force" Martius stated to the man "I was beginning to fear I might be the last survivor." Closing his eyes for a moment, Martius reached out through the Force and could feel the presence of more Jedi approaching the base. "Thank you for waking me; I'm afraid introductions will have to wait a moment however, it seems more of our Order have found their way here. There's what looks to be a command center just down the hall from here, we might be able to get some of the old communications systems online and direct the survivors here. I'd appreciate any assistance you and your colleague would be willing to provide." Giving the Admiral a brief glance, Martius was somewhat concerned at the security risk she might pose should she secretly be working for the Empire, though given his own friendship with Admiral Nalora, he could certainly understand why this Jedi would bring her along.

With more pressing matters to attend to at the moment, Martius showed the pair the way to the control room and quickly set about trying to make repairs to one of the ancient communications terminals. Though far from a permanent fix, he jury-rigged his own commlink to temporarily power the terminal and act as a short-range beacon to guide the Jedi survivors to his current location. "There" Martius stated to Afon and Solia after finishing his task "Nothing fancy, but that should at least hopefully help the others to find us..."

[The Imperial Republic]

Vrudun Tumara and Beli

---

As the Jedi Knight and the Arkanian made their way through the entrance of the ancient ruin of a base, Vrudun was surprised at how well the halls were preserved. Despite the obvious strength in the Force this....place....emanated, the Jedi took no chances, his lightsaber hilt gripped tightly in his hand as he stalked through the halls. That was when he felt it. The aura of others, a strong feeling of what could only be perceived as comfort. He wouldn't put any stock into it, but he felt as if another Jedi, a powerful one, was here as well.

"I'm receiving a signal." Beli whispered as she pulled out a small square device that pinged with a blue light and an arrow.

"Sounds like a trap. Be ready for anything." The Jedi whispered back as they continued through the halls of this station. As they grew closer and closer to the source of the signal, Vrudun heard it. The sound of voices. If this was to be a trap, they were doing a terrible job at it. Both Vrudun and Beli hugged the right wall, inching ever closer as he saw a robed figure walk past the door, seemingly unaware of their presence. The robes were familiar, the brown and cream colors of a Jedi, alongside the figure was another, dressed in similar fashion. Vrudun dropped his guard a bit and unlodged himself from the wall. "What are you doing?!" Beli said, barely masking her voice behind a louder whisper.

Vrudun entered and saw the two men, both he could assuredly identify now, as Jedi. The two men stood in silence at the appearance of another of their Order.

"My name is Vrudun Tumara." Beli slowly entered the room.

"And this is Beli."

[San Har Jasta]

Kroawbaesa and Trecort
Aboard the Inglorious

Kroawbaesa was still coming down from the high of the hunt as he punched in the coordinates to Nar Shadaa, the most disgusting hive of scum and villainy the galaxy had to offer. Despite the planets reputation it was also the best place for a bounty hunter to find work, which made it one of his favorite places in the galaxy. On this visit, however, Kroawbaesa wasn't looking for new work, but was instead looking to receive compensation for work completed. Kroawbaesa's unique services had been bought by Skerbo the Hutt, a low time crime lord who was perfectly happy being a big squirrel in a small Wroshyr tree. Skerbo had been "betrayed" by some kid who ran away with his favorite dancer. Poor guy didn't run nearly far enough. Kroawbaesa didn't understand all the fuss over the dancer anyways. She didn't even have fur. Regardless, it had been another successful hunt in the Wookiees eyes, tasked with his favorite type of job; stalking one person in the big wide galaxy and killing them-in this case both the dumb kid and the dancer. The hit jobs always brought Kroawbaesa back to the forests of Kashyyyk, the easy times. These days, he had much more forest to hunt in, and much more challenging hunts. On top of that, Kroawbaesa's new hunting party was stranger than any the Wookiee had led before. He'd found himself in the company of Trecort, another Bounty Hunter. Trecort was an odd, contradictory individual in Kroawbaesa's eyes. The Junker wasn't capable of training his body the way other hunters did, being made of mechanical parts and all. But, he did often trade out old parts for newer, better ones. Kroawbaesa figured that was the same thing, more or less. It was kind of sad, that Trecort had to rely on all that technology instead of hunting like a warrior. Rather than looking down on Trecort, Kroawbaesa felt a sort of pity. Nonetheless, Trecort's results were respectable.

"Strap in, we're jumping to Nar Shadaa shortly." Kroawbaesa growled from the pilot's seat.

"Affirmative," Trecort's vocalizer hummed back as he plugged his Scomp Link into the computer access terminal near his seat.

With a few quick rotations, he made some minor adjustments to the ship, from fuel flow to some other, often overlooked, aspects to the avionics. It should prevent some avoidable maintenance in the near future.

Once everything was humming along, Trecort took some time for self-diagnostics. Kroawbaesa had taken point on the last job, with the Junker serving primarily as support, making sure no one interfered. A wookie, he had learned in the few years he'd been traveling around, was usually enough of a deterrent in if themselves, but there was a rare occasion when someone became emboldened when they had a good blaster in their hands.

All systems seemed nominal, which was expected, but nonetheless required by the cyborg's high standards. Trecort wasn't decided in what upgrade to seek out next, but he was contemplating a vibroblade to compensate for his relative shortcomings with melee combat. Another option was finding an IG unit and scavenging it's corpse for useful parts. Regardless, Trecort pushed that from his mind when he received some feedback from the Scomp Link.

"We will need to take on fuel and supplies soon. I recommend taking advantage of the facilities on Nar Shaddaa."

"Copy, I've been wanting to invest in mines anyways." Kroawbaesa said to his cyborg companion. The Wookiee had never been one to continuously upgrade his ship, or to replace parts unless it was necessary. If it flies it flies. Ever since partnering with Trecort Kroawbaesa felt like he had been spending more credits on his ship than when he hunted solo. But he knew having a more reliable ship was for the better and worth the credits.

The Inglorious jumped out of hyperspace over the infamous city planet Nar Shaddaa. Kroawbaesa hailed the control tower for Skerbo's docking bay.

"The great and generous Skerbo the Hutt welcomes you to Nar Shaddaa." A nasally voice, punctuated by static, came through the comm. "What business do you have with his exuberance, Inglorious?"

"We are the bounty hunters hired by Skerbo, here to claim our payment." Kroawbaesa grumbled back to the little man

"What? Payment- Oh, yes, his immensity has been waiting for you with bated breath! In fact, he wished to contact you personally before landing. Please hold for communication!"

"Aye." The Wookiee growled back. Kroawbaesa decided Trecort should hear this too so he put the transmission over the ships intercomm. "Skerbo has something he wants to tell us. Thought you might want to here."

"That seems a little odd, no? A message from your employer that can't wait until we land?"

"Must be important. Maybe another dancer left him."

"He should invest in locks; cheaper than bounty hunters."

As if summoned forth by Trecort's question, a tiny hologram flickered into reality above the Inglorious' instrument console. Skerbo the Hutt himself, rendered in miniature. The Hutt was an image of opulence, with a luxurious robe draped over his slug-like body. Skerbo's stubby fingers were covered in rings, and, most unusually, he wore a wide-brimmed hat on his broad head, with a long feather stuck in the brim.
"Hoho, the heroes of the hour!" Skerbo rumbled in Huttese, the deepness of his voice coming through even over holocomm. "Tell me, did that scalliwag and his wench pay for betraying my generosity?"

Kroawbaesa growled back "They have been hunted as you asked."

"Transferring proof of termination," Trecort said, broadcasting his brief recording of the incident.

"Wonderful, most fortuitous indeed! I'll be watching this back many a time." Skerbo chuckled, as though he had said something incredibly funny. "But you'll have to accept payment being transferred to your accounts, something of much greater importance has arisen, and I will be making use of your talents once more!"

Kroawbaesa chuckled, it was always a good day if he got work right after finishing a job. A seasoned hunter such as himself didn't need any rest between jobs. "Who do you need dead now?"

"The who is lesser than the what in this case, my good hunter. Allow me to regale you- only a short time ago, the holonet channels were alight with new bounty postings, for the most peculiar kind of quarry: Jedi. Someone at the heart of the galaxy is offering great payment for proof of dead Jedi, and I want to be in their good graces! You hunters shall make this wish a reality. Seek out the Jedi, and bring me their lightsabers, or those braids, or identification, or something! The winds of change have blown across the galaxy, and only the most resourceful may sail upon them! The docking bay shall accept you, should you wish to refuel and acquire weapons, but waste little time in this effort! Others will surely be acting on this information, perhaps even as we speak."

It was times like these that Trecort appreciated his emotionless face.

"How high is the bounty?" He asked, knowing that having a Hutt as a middleman would no doubt eat into whatever profits such a...uniquely dangerous job may bring.

"Hohoho... 50,000 credits for each Jedi proven dead. I shall of course take my cut off the top when this payment comes from the new galactic power, but the rest will go to the both of you."

Trecort gave his Scomp Link a few quick turns, muting them from the Hutt temporarily, "What do you think, Kroawbaesa? Is it worth it?"

"I wouldn't miss a hunt like this for any amount of credits!" Kroawbaesa roared, grinning from the anticipation of the great hunts ahead of him.

Nodding, Trecort unmuted the transmission, letting the Wookie voice his opinion properly.

"We will make you rich Hutt." The Wookiee growled cheerfully at the hologram, "Do you have anything on the location of any Jedi?"

"Nothing concrete as of yet. I presume your skills will be more than sufficient to track down something as unusual as a Jedi! Perhaps start with Coruscant, and plot the most likely course a fleeing target would take? Mayhaps? Regardless, this bounty shall be open indefinitely. Only your competition shall dictate your pace. Now..." Skerbo grinned. "...do make me a wealthy Hutt."

Kroawbaesa had thought for many years a Jedi would make a good hunt. Their power and skill made them extremely dangerous to any non-force user. To hunt one would bring him the greatest thrill he had felt since he was a cub. All Kroawbaesa would need to kill one is a plan and the means to carry the plan out perfectly. "I will bring us down for repairs and equipment. Then let us hunt some Jedi" Kroawbaesa told his partner. "We will need to plan carefully and stalk our prey closely to be able to hunt efficiently."

[United Islands of Polis]

Lieutenant Cornelius Mors [CALLSIGN: Scarbrand]
Ord Radama, New Raido
A Few Weeks Ago

Cornelius crawled on the roof of a building, slowing down eventually, he reached for the a weapon on his back, an NT-242 and set it up. Today's target was a Separatist colonel who was in charge of the city's armored division. Taking him, or her out, would be a blow to the organizational level, effort, and system to the defense of this world. He only had one try at this or else his target would escape. However there was no hiding from him; an anti-tank rifle would go right through an AAT with no problem, albeit he had to hit them directly, there were only so much limitations to the weapon which was mastered in its use for two years.

Looking down the scope, he swept through the streets and rows of neatly parked AATs and other armored vehicles. So far he had seen B1s, B2s, gong droids, ammunition carriers, a Rodian in a uniform. Swiveling back, he focused the sights of his rifle on the Rodian in a Separatist uniform, perhaps this was his target.

"Scarbrand to Command, I have eyes on a potential HVT, linking feed now for confirmation." Cornelius pressed a button on his scope, linking the feed of the scope back to the command unit.

"Command copies... Target confirmed as Colonel Tax Krentom, fire at will."

Cornelius pulled the trigger, kicking up some dust as the blaster bolt left the barrel. In a few seconds the head of the colonel exploded in a fine mist, bewildering the B1 aide he had at his side at the time of his death.

"Kill confirmed, heading back to base."

At this point, Cornelius packed up his things and left for the exit, Westar M-5 rifle at hand after putting the two handed cannon on his back. He had to escape at this point. Having been deployed so far in via orbital insertion meant he could take hours or days in returning back to friendly lines.

One Day Later

Crossing a street after having a harrowing firefight between him and a platoon's worth of B2 Super Battle droids had cost him hours as they were determined to search and kill for him. Was he that high of a priority target? Or perhaps it was purely bad luck? He could always ask the Jedi, if he ever got to meet them that was. Cornelius sprinted form the wreck of a hovercar to a concrete barrier, sweeping his surroundings with the rangefinder on his helmet, he saw nothing for now, except hearing the thudding of a vehicle's movement. Satisfied that there was nothing, he lifts the rangefinder and moves on.

Turning the corner however he sees the best sight so far in his deployment to New Raido. Squads of Clone Troopers and an AT-TE going through the streets. "Hey, boys! Glad to see your colors about!"

An audible groan from a Clone Trooper in the lead was heard. "Lieutenant, glad to see you're fine. Why are you all the way out here?"

"Command wanted enemy armor to be disorganized, so I popped the head of their colonel." Cornelius responded. "You boys heading back to the blue zone?"

"We just started our patrol, sir." a clone from behind spoke.

"Patrol already? You guys don't slack around much huh? Anyway, which way back to base?" Cornelius' stance eased up a bit more.

The clone pointed in the general direction, which after a quick thank you and a good luck dispensation, he headed back to the base. After an hour he finally saw the base, or the beginning of one. Crates and tents were strewn about everywhere, however there was a semblance of order in the place at least. He pulled out a data slate and made his way to the center, presumably the command center, to hand in his report to either the Jedi in charge, or the appropriate officer thus far.

One Day Later

Cornelius was sent out once again to eliminate another HVT, no additional information was given except the fact that his target was armed with a lightsaber and that the order came straight from Coruscant. It was odd, however during the Umbara Campaign this was extremely normal, so not much thought was put into it. Getting onto a BARC speeder, he checked the Dissuader KD-30 on his holster, a slug thrower with an acidic payload, perfect for fighting those Sith thing, people. However the plan was still to engage from a distance. Turning the speeder on, he turned towards the marshes.

A few moments into the trip, the handheld holo-projector began to beep with a priority message, opening it he saw the figure of a hooded man. "What the fuck? Who is this?"

"Execute Order 66."

"Uh... what?" The feed cut out, leaving a bewildered Cornelius jerking the speeder back on course.

Before he could contact base for more information, he heard blaster fire, followed by a sudden silence. Putting his speeder to a stop, he was now wrought with confusion and disorientation. Just what was happening? The next message from his data pad however did not bring more answers. It simply was a file from Republic Intelligence, or rather the Imperial Security Bureau as it's now called, instructing all operatives of Republic Intelligence that they were now under new management and that they were ordered to inform the whereabouts of the Jedi or kill them if possible.

"On what grounds?" Cornelius thought.

"Trooper, what's happening, what's Order 66?" Cornelius blurted out as he saw another speeder patrol incoming.

"The Jedi attempted a coup against the Chancellor, shoot to kill, outsider." the clone and his compatriots sped off.

Weird, the clones were never this hostile before. But the Jedi would never attempt a coup, right?

Lieutenant Cornelius Mors [CALLSIGN: Scarbrand]
Open Space
Present Day

There could be between a hundred to a thousand places the Jedi may retreat. Republic Intelligence files had a file on many planets, some hosting abandoned headquarters there in the Unknown Regions that were well secluded and well hidden. However it was a gamble which he would have to see if it was true or not that they did attempt a coup. The Nu Class Shuttle he had was modified to be somewhat of a personal home, akin to the Consular Class ship they had when there was still six of them.

"Those were the days"

The trackers on the ship were disabled for now and were rigged to activate and send out a distress beacon of he were to be killed. He wanted answers from them, but he was not dumb. He was able to get whatever information he could get on this formation of the Galactic Empire, it seemed too brutal for his taste, however the meeting with the Jedi, if he ever found them, would determine what happens next.


He was able to leave the campaign on Ord Radama on the guise of chasing Jedi Master Martius, which was not entirely wrong nor true. Albeit no one really knew, everyone assumed he was being redeployed somewhere else. While inputting the coordinates for Odessen he realized that these coordinates were an estimate, he could be full grid squares away from the planet, but well within range of any transponders to pick up, or he may even not be in the right place at all.

"Here it goes." Cornelius pushed the throttle an entered hyperspace. Setting an alarm, he went ahead and went down into the cargo bay to catch whatever sleep he could.

The digital sound of the alarm woke him up, indicating he was an hour away from hyperspace exit. Eventually he did leave hyperspace and was confronted with nothing but open space. The fact that the imputed coordinates were no more than a rough estimate, it put him somewhere from 5-25 light years away from Odessen, or whatever he had put into the navigation computer.

Before sending out a message, Cornelius checked for any other active tracking, or recording devices and boosting the power of the transmission, seeing that they were all off, he reminded himself that he had two weeks, after two weeks he will go back to Coruscant and either hand over his resignation, or be integrated into this new Empire, hopefully not the latter. Hopefully his hashed plan would not backfire intensely.

"This is Lieutenant Cornelius Mors from the now defunct Republic Intelligence. I come here as an independent individual. I am here to seek answers. My heart goes to those affected by the genocide carried out, it was not just, if you are hearing this and willing to answer my inquiries please respond, I am willing to land and surrender my fighting capabilities to ensure your safety.

Cornelius leaned back and removed his helmet, the disappearance of the HUD allowed for him to absorb the majesty that is space, he always did find it beautiful. While staring into the star-lit void he thought of a plan. He only had two weeks for his schedule, he needed to find at least one Jedi willing to answer his questions, if the Jedi were truly innocent, he was more than willing to defect from the Empire, he never was sworn in yet anyway.

There was a space station the Jedi did keep with oodles of information, it would be a good place go start and he could be allowed in since as of the moment people with his skills were tasked with hunting down the Jedi Order remnants. He could get in if it is occupied now by the Empire.

"Brighthome." Cornelius said out loud.

He typed the coordinates into the navigational computer, copying it from a data pad that had been updated before he left for the Unknown Regions. One of the new files was on the takeover and the placement of a garrison on the Brighthome station. But before hitting the enter key, he would wait, perhaps there was someone out there willing to answer his hail.

[Laiakia]

Tuka Tisrygian
YT-1300 Freighter, Hyperspace inbound to Odessen

Tuka’s eyes gazed into the blue void that was hyperspace. The rythmic thumping of the vessel traveling through hyperspace was relaxing and listening to it was a nice change of pace from fleeing from Coruscaunt and then stealing the freighter. Stretching, Tuka began tapping and adjusting various components on the dashboard. Despite not having piloted a spacecraft like this before, Tuka thought that everything had gone good so far. Taking a long sigh, Tuka looked on the navigation map and noticed that he was almost at the planet. Grasping a lever that looked important, Tuka sighed again before closing his eyes and shaking his head.

"I have a bad feeling about this..", he said, and pulled the lever, taking the YT-1300 out of hyperspace, which caused the ship to shake slightly.

The hyperspace waves were now replaced by a beautiful, green world with oceans.

"So, this must be it, then.. Let's hope it isn't a trap."

With that, Tuka hesitantly pressed a few buttons, some of which did nothing, and some of which seemed to activate random lights in the cockpit, until he eventually found the autopilot. Taking a hesitant minute, Tuka activated it and set it on a course towards the planet.


Jedi Knight Nardrashtasch
Odessen

The large male Wookie glared up at the beautiful skies of Odessan as freighter soared towards him. He had payed for transit to the system and had had the pilot set him down far from the coordinates supposedly sent out by an unknown party calling Jedi to this place, he had decided to be careful and scout the place out. To best ensure this wasn’t a trap by the newly proclaimed Galactic Empire.

In the few days that he had been watching the area that the coordinates had pointed him to, he had seen no real activity. Imperial or otherwise. He had just decided to get closer and do some deeper recon of the place when the freighter appeared.

He growled deep in his throat as he waited to see what the freighter would do.

Tuka Tisrygian

Shifting awkwardly in his seat while trying to pilot the YT-1300, Tuka looked out of the window and watched as the landscape soared by. So calming, he thought. Almost like Kuat when he was a child. Sadly for Tuka, his reminiscing came to an end as he accidentally tipped the craft too steep, sending it into a dive. Panicking, the Jedi Padawan tried to pull up, but accidentally hit the autopilot button which sent the craft into a spin.

Tuka grunted under his breath as he attempted to correct his flight-path, only looking out of the cockpit again to see the approching ground. Acting quickly, Tuka mashed a load of buttons until the shields were activated, and braced for impact as the ship impacted the ground and skidded along the grass and dirt.

Nard

If wookie could raise an eyebrow in exasperation, Nard would be doing so right now as the ship above him began to spin out of control. This raised eyebrow would then turn into a grunt of surprise as the ship began to angle its downward trajectory directly at him.

“Not good!” Nard growled out in his home tongue, growling it out between his teeth as he dived aside, barely avoiding being crushed by the freighter as it ran itself into the dirt.

After the vessel came to a standstill Nard rushed over, going to the glass of the cockpit, hoping to look in and see if the pilot had survived.

Tuka

"Ow..."

Tuka groaned as he slowly sat up and held his head. It would seem that he had bonked his head on the dashboard. Groaning, Tuka rubbed his eyes and yolted back at the sight something big and hairy outside the cockpit. Unbuckling himself rather quickly, he scuttered back, trying to grasp for his sabers only to realize that they were misplaced in the crash.

"Oh kriff, why does this always happen to me?!"

Nard
With a growl hard plunged his lot saber through the glass of the cockpit. His orange saber making quick work of opening a suitable entrance for him.

“If you can understand me, take my hand and I’ll pull you out of this rust bucket,” Nard growls as he extends his hand out towards the small man, or more likely padawan Nard thought. He could sense the force pulsing off this young man in short waves.

Tuka
Still hesitating slightly, Tuka turned around and looked around the smashed cockpit, spotting his lightsabers rolling on the floor. Groaning, Tuka reached down up to pick them up. He then turned back to the large being that revealed itself to be a wookie. A Jedi too, it would seem. Tuka, still sligthly disoriented by the crash, grasped the wookie's outstretched hand even though he didn't speak Shyriiwook.

"Uhh, i have no idea what you just said, but you seem okay."

Nard

“You are lucky to be alive little one, and you are lucky that you did not land on me, for if you did my patience with this galaxy would have shattered and I would most likely have taken you with me out of spite,” Nard said, knowing the Padawan could not understand him and yet still saying it.

An explosive sigh came next as he set the padawan down beside him outside the wrecked craft. “The coordinates point is this way, if there is more than one of us in the area than I can assume it is not entirely a trap,” He says, motioning with his hand in the direction the coordinates should be.

Tuka

Grunting as the big wookie sat him down outside, Tuka let his head rest on his hands as he listened to the talking wookie.

"What? Uhh.. me no understand you. You understand me?", he said while simultaniously pointing between himself and the wookie.

Seeing the large wookie motioning towards the direction that Tuka was heading in, made him give an elevated exclamation.

"Oh! Your pointing towards the coordinates. Yes i was also heading there too. Doesn't seem like its a trap, but we should still be careful. Uhm, the name's Tuka, by the way. Tuka Tisrygian. I'm a Padawan. Atleast i was, before all this happened.."

Nard

“A padawan with no brains, who would have thought it possible,” the Wookie growled, sarcasm evident in his voice to any who could understand him and knew what to listen for.

Nard then started walking towards the coordinates. To the outside world looking relaxed and uncaring, in actuality he was tense and on edge, waiting for any Imperial presence to show itself.

Tuka

The padawan looked oddly at the wookie before standing up and following the wookie, keeping silent and occasionally rubbing his arms and head where he had smacked them during his crash.

[San Har Jasta]

CT-6264 'Brutus'
Aboard the Triumph
I Ain't No Senator's Son

Dammit dammit DAMMIT! CT-6264 quickly strode through the halls of the Acclamator class assault ship known as the Triumph. Constant thoughts of curses, distaste, and general hate towards his old general Dan Brovil ran through Brutus' head. He let the traitorous cur escape. Brutus swore to himself every Jedi, especially his old general, will die by his hand. The clone captain eventually reached the vessel's bridge. As the ranking officer aboard, their destination was now in his hands.

"Do we continue to Coruscant, sir?" asked CT-2233, better known as Double Trouble or Double for short. Double had stripped away his dirty clone armor to don the grey navy uniform of the Republic- now the Empire. Like most clones, Double was a good soldier who followed orders, but to Brutus, he was as different from the other clones as Rodians were from Sullustans. No matter what outsiders to the war thought of them, each clone was his own person.

"We make for Coruscant. Rendevouz with High Command for new orders, and kill any Jedi in our way." Brutus said to Double, who gave a salute before turning back to his post to ready for lightspeed. Coruscant. The home of the Empire. Brutus had mixed feelings about the city planet. On one hand, he loved the capital of the former Republic and future Empire he had so valiantly defended from Separatist trash. But it's people were somewhat more irritating. The way some of them protested using clones, banning the army that had been bred to fight for them from even visiting a bar. It was sickening to the Clone Captain. After all the blood that had been spilt, they'd never have the welcome home a soldier should have. They wouldn't have anything to go back to. All Brutus had ever known was war. All Brutus would ever know would be war and he wanted to keep on making war until he found something else, or until it killed him.