Alliance of the Force - Jedi Thread

200 ABY
Tatooine, Outer Rim - Under Imperial occupation

The sun burned down out of a cloudless blue sky washing the vast desert wastes of the planet in brilliant white light. Far through the dunes and wastelands of Tatooine, the winds grew strong enough to shake the tents and carts of the empty markets in Mos Espa. A sand storm was coming, dangerous enough that the three Jedi operatives hiding on the world had retreated back to their ship on the outskirts of the city. The grey-blue, heavily modified ZH-25 light freighter stirred the growing waves of dust with it's idling engines as two figures waited on the lowered ramp, both of their faces hidden beneath faded brown hoods blocking the encircling sands.

The only shapes in the horizon were the mountains marked with rough cliff edges, sandstone ravines barely visible in the wasteland, and the mighty dunes now raising into the air with the passing wind. The world was quiet, dry, and silent. One of the figures looked down at his chrono, before looking one more time at the comlink to verify its illuminated power light.

"If we don’t leave soon, we won’t be leaving at all." The first voice came from a thin-lipped Zabrak. "Master Jun'takk was very clear about the conditions of these engine drives." The Zabrak was taller than the other figure, his pale white horns adding another five or six inches.

"He'll arrive before the storm. He always does.” The other's voice was quiet and modulated, a Kel'dor woman speaking through her atmosphere mask. "Just keep the engines going." The Zabrak opened his mouth to speak, but kept quiet. In the distance, there was a wild swirl and rumble from the storm. Both Jedi turned back inside the ship and the sounds of the oncoming storm gave way to the stirring murmurs and muffled beeps of their transport. Inside the hull, a red-orange heavy droid floated towards the cockpit, the rust stained engines of JN-66 hummed between small sparks from its ports. Out from the cockpit door, a lanky blue skinned Pantoran stretched to one side to let the hefty droid by.

“I don’t sense him.” The creature’s voice was strained, raspy, and tired. The Jedi were deep in Imperial territory and far out in the Outer Rim which could be a very dangerous place for Force users. Prejudices and resentments were one of the few things easily grown on a barren world like this. The Empire had not issued formal orders against the Jedi for over a decade, though the Grandmaster was dubious of their current intentions. The three of them might have been able to travel to this world on their own and be lost. Though many of the criminally minded citizens might look to score one of the large bounties still offered for Force users. But having the Jedi Grandmaster this close to the Imperial capital on Geonosis made most of the Council more than a little uncomfortable. As a new, official Jedi Order made their presence known in the galaxy, many of them knew the Empire was a very real threat.

“Be mindful.” The Kel’dor said as she walked into the main hold. “Do not let fear cloud your judgement.”

“Yes, master.” The Pantoran approached the other Jedi.

“The Force has guided Master Isolder here.” The woman said. “It will guide him back.”

On the southern side of Mos Espa, beneath the four crossing shadows of huge twin red-rocked peaks, Cain Isolder looked out onto the desert. It had been over a decade since he had been on this world, ten years that had changed so much of the galaxy...him most of all. He stood in the wreckage of long abandoned ruins and moved past stone walls from destroyed homes overtaken by the desert sea. Moisture vaperators jut out from the sand like strange crystals and the Jedi stood in front of single, sandstone pillar leaning to its side catching his reflection on a small plaque. The Grandmaster was Corellian, broad shouldered, green eyed and had wild dark brown hair overgrowing on his head and beard, though both were turning grey along the edges. He wore a thin, shimmering tan tunic underneath blue-black robe with red letters and embroidery. Cain could feel the native presence of the Force here, the whispers of life echoing to him from all around the ghost town. He looked up to the pillar and stared at a small metal plaque aged with turquoise oxidation.

We forge this city in the heat of twin suns, in memory of our forefathers, in honor of our living clans, and in hope for our children yet unborn.

The Grandmaster placed a hand on the pillar and felt the metal warm from the twin suns. The Jedi Order that had been in power before the Inquisition had looked to perseve ancient traditions and the history of the Jedi. Decades before his last great battle, Grandmaster Varen had even began the process of rebuilding the ancient Jedi library on Ossus. Isolder now carried the weight of the Jedi Order and bore the same mantle of responsibility as their new Grandmaster and protector of the Order. So, he had come to this planet to seek answers. There was a mystery on this world, one that hid a long undiscovered secret for the Jedi. Long ago, while Cain had hid in the galaxy, he had been given access to and recovered a number of files from the old Rebel Alliance Command and personal data entries from Princess Leia Organa Solo. These entries were many of the most crucial reports that accounted for that time in the history of the Jedi and the startlingly convergence of the Skywalker bloodline, but there was still a piece to the puzzle that the Grandmaster sought. Far away on this planet, in the simplest and most tragic roles, Shimi Skywalker had lived with a mystical pregnancy that altered the course of the Force and had died carrying the first known use of the Skywalker name. Nearly everything else was a mystery.

The old Slave Quarters of Mos Espa had long since deteriorated and nothing still remained that could provide clues to the Jedi Master. He had spent enough time here, risked far more than enough by creeping this close to the Empire, at least for now. Cain reminded himself that he was not a soldier, no longer simply a survivor, and he had responsibilities to far more than just himself. He looked over towards his speeder, catching another glance through the shimmering heat of desert across its endless sea. He had once considering coming to this world like the old Jedi Kenobi, who had taught and watched over Darth Vader’s child. Like many Jedi before him, there were worlds that someone like Cain could get lost in, though having gone through it now he would rather died in the Inquisition. The Imperial presence on the world had bunkered in for the storm, allowing him respite from the carefully disguised movements and careful maneuvers he had become used to using the past few decades. Cain closed his eyes trying to quiet himself to feel through the Force, but his mind only buzzed with a strange, stirring pulse of anger emanating in the air. Even from this distance, light years and planets away, he could feel them like the ripples of distant crashing waves. The Sith Empire was near, the Dark Lord radiating his presence far out and wide in this corner of the galaxy. Cain turned away to his speeder, barely registering his hands growing to tight fists. His own darkness was not cruelty and giving in to anger; the Dark Side did not stir a craving for power. His temptation was turning on the galaxy that had persecuted him and hunted him like an animal and even here he felt the wild call of the Sith world. He had traveled there once, soon after signing the peace treaty with the Emperor. He tried to remind himself of Zian instead.

The wind picked up harder, another blast of sand skirting through the long abandoned streets. As Cain approached the speeder bike, he pressed a series of buttons along the side that activated a red shimmer glowing around the speeder like a radiating bubble and the sand sparked off it as he entered and set off into the endless landscape. When the Grandmaster had arrived to the ship, the Jedi each expressed their own concerns before resolving to focus on the mission. The Zabrak had moved into the pilot seat with Cain next to him, both expertly moving with military precision as they got the ship shuttering to life. As they began to ascend, Cain looked down to see the huge, swirling storm move across the entire desert, ready to consume everything in its path.

“Transmission coming through.” The pilot said. Cain looked at the screen, feeling a small sensation creeping up into his chest. The Force was speaking to him, like a whisper behind his back. He quickly activated the communication relay. A small, fuzzy blue image blinked to life at the base of the pilot station and morphed into a tall, slender woman in Jedi robes standing on a snowbank.

“Qul’dor,” Cain said, his voice was gravelly, but comforting and kind. “we’ve just made it off world. We should arrive...”

“Grandmaster.” The woman’s voice came through the speakers, buzzing with static and fear. “We have a distress signal from Baron Do. There was an attack and Mistress Tisturia has request the Jedi’s aid.”

“An attack?” Isolder’s hand gripped tighter to the control rod. He opened his mouth, then put a finger to it in quick contemplation. He quieted his mind, feeling the presence of the Dark Side still fogging his emotions. He needed information before emotions. “By who?”

“The Empire.” Her voice was a grim as the words. Cain had to fight snapping the control rod off the ship. He had struggled for months, meditating nearly every day, to decide to let the galaxy be aware of the Jedi haven in the Outer Rim. Ultimately, with the Sith’s return, he knew it was inevitable for the Jedi to resurge in the galaxy and so he choose to create an alliance with their Emperor. He would do whatever was necessary to protect the Jedi, to stop the apprentices from fighting the same wars he had fought. But now, if the Empire was reigniting the Inquisition once more, then the Jedi needed to be ready.

“Send me the report.” Cain said. “I’ll send a message to the Order and assemble a task force.” He took control of the ship from the Zabrak and could hear the other Jedi in the ship already preparing themselves for the journey. He looked down to the see planet of Ilum circling the navcomputer. “And have the Legion of Light send X-wings escorts. Bring me The Halycon.” The engines roared to life as the ship began rocketing into dark space and Cain began fighting to clear his thoughts.

200 ABY
Zian, Far Outer Rim - Jedi Sanctuary World

There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.

Winds raged outside the stark stone walls of the Jedi Watchtower, an endless tide of frigid blasts that could toss full-grown wookiees around like ragdolls and bring on frostbite within minutes. Deep within the hollow mountain beneath Aalur, the isolated city of the Jedi Sunriders, the Watchtower had been built strong to withstand the elements; such storms, laden with flesh-stripping daggers of ice, often howled into the great cavern inside the mountain, their strength multiplied as they were forced through dozens of narrow crevasses and fissures that eventually led out to the mountainside. It was all a matter of pressure difference, a natural system seeking desperately to equalize.

The noise was deafening, but Master Malinaya Tarven didn't even notice it. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.

Seated cross-legged on the cold stone floor, the loose fabric of her simple robes pooled around her, Mal kept her eyes shut and her focus inward. She didn't feel the chill, didn't notice her pelvic bones grinding against the hard surface beneath her, didn't smell the sweet, mild incense burning in the chamber or see the flickering patterns of light the brazier flames cast against her eyelids. She was deep inside herself, beyond even her own steady breathing. Wherever her body might be sitting was irrelevant; her presence, her true self, was far away. Her awareness floated on the currents of the Living Force, borne across the galaxy to witness whatever it wished to show her today.

In her mind's eye, she found her feet. Snow crunched beneath her boots, and she smelled ice and old stone, but she knew she was far from Zian. Cain Isolder's new Jedi had worked hard to make that isolated world a place of peace and quiet contemplation, a new sanctuary, but here she sensed a far longer history... and an undercurrent of fear. A snowflake landed on her tongue, and it tasted of ash and desperation. Something was very wrong here; Mal could sense sanctity violated. Her awareness was drawn to a tight knot of emotions, radiating from a huddled group of living beings. She let the Force draw her closer, each step not truly a step but a drifting along the river that connected all life.

Where was she? What threatened this place? There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.

She came to the entrance of a stone structure, not dissimilar in design to many of Zian's own buildings. Jedi in origin, surely... that narrowed down the possibilities somewhat. From inside came a flurry of emotions, a heatmap for her eyes, or perhaps a splatter painting. There was fear and despair, but also hope and comfort, all mingled, tangled together and struggling with one another. Mal stepped over the threshold. She saw the beings inside only as radiant energy, their reflections in the Living Force. They sat in meditation on the floor, just as her body did back on Zian, casting their awareness out beyond their physical shells. And then, suddenly, one of them turned toward her.

There was a flash, a brushing of minds against each other. Help us. They are coming. They are coming.

Mal's eyes snapped open, the physical world rushing back in around her. She was aware immediately of the soreness in her legs from hours of sitting, the chill that her robes did little to block, and the grumbling in her stomach that informed her she hadn't yet eaten today. But those physical sensations were immediately replaced by whirling thoughts as her mind went to work deciphering what the Force had shown her. In that instant of contact, she had seen within the fearful being's mind. A Kel Dor, a male, old and strong with the Force. He had pushed an image toward her: two dark presences, filled with cold rage and willfully turned away from the Force, with an army standing behind them.

"Emnine, come here, please," Mal called softly, her voice cutting across the howling wind and the soft crackling of the lit braziers. With a happy little whistle, M9-T9 trundled out of the alcove where he had been patiently waiting and trilled an interrogative. "I need you to run a search for me. Cross-reference ice worlds with planets hosting Jedi ruins, at least three thousand years old." The droid whooped an affirmative, turned its semi-conical head around in a full circle as it processed for a moment, and then projected a holographic list of candidates. Mal frowned as she slowly scanned the names. "Rhen Var?" she murmured. "There are Jedi ruins there. But perhaps it could be..."

M9 beeped an interruption, an incoming message, and Mal listened patiently. "Ilum," she finally murmured. "Of course. On the far side of the galaxy from the Empire, and across the bulk of the Alliance's territory... they are becoming bold indeed. The Baran Do... an odd target. They have never been warriors, only contemplatives. But those two I sensed... Agents of the old Galactic Inquisition, I suspect. Perhaps their hate has blinded them to strategy, or perhaps there is some greater design I cannot yet see..." Pushing herself up to a standing position and stretching widely, letting the movement work the chill out of her bones, the Jedi Master smiled at her droid. "Thank you for the message, Emnine."

With a reflexive gesture, Mal called her lightsaber from where it lay at the entrance to the meditation room. She knew the halls of the Watchtower well; it would not take her long to return to Aalur, and from there she could join in directing the Jedi mission group that would be assembling even now to deal with this matter. A frown crossed her face as she considered the Legion of Light's response. She worried sometimes that they were too eager to do battle with what they saw as dark forces. Although she wore her lightsaber on this mission, she hoped she would not have to use it. The Jedi were not soldiers; it was not their role to overthrow the Empire, only to protect the innocent.

Perhaps there was a peaceful solution. She would strive to find one. "Request me a shuttle, please." Ilum awaited.

EN ROUTE TO ILUM - JEDI TRANSPORT

A Jedi Knight must always follow the will of the Force, even when following orders. Sitting in the back of one of the only freighters the Order had that could transport a squadron of ships between Zian and most of the Rim, Ven felt exhausted. All he wanted was to crawl back into his bunk in the barracks and sleep. The adrenaline from his last scouting assignment in the Core had drained out of him, leaving him hyperaware of the stiffness and soreness of his body. He slumped down in his seat and gazed around the interior of the cruiser that he had been living in for four weeks.

Assignments from the Council for skilled Jedi were becoming more frequent and Ven has joined a task force from the Legion of Light working alongside the Grandmaster in the northern quadrants near Zian for reconnaissance missions and mostly supply runs to deep cover agents. Ven knew there were some contingencies in the Order that did not like the number of Jedi who had learned to operate with military discipline, ideology, and sometimes strategy. But Ven knew that the Jedi were always reflections of the galaxy they lived in. The Old Jedi Order had been molded into warriors by the great war that ended them, but they had already taken on the large, bloated shape of the Old Republic's bureaucracy. If Isolder could make a Jedi Order whose sole intention was to cleanse darkness from the galaxy, then Ven was willing to accept the cruel, cold galaxy all around him for it.

Two other Jedi entered the back room, both having changed into their flight suits and telling Ven they would be in the hanger in twenty minutes. He got up to retrieve his things; a red and white flight suit, a long double-bladed lightsaber hooked his belt, and then he brushed a hand through short golden-brown hair. Ven was Kiffar, the blue-green qukuuf tattoos on his face were in three vertical lines across his eyes.

"In orbit of Ilum." A monotone voice came across the loudspeakers, letting the team know they had dropped from hyperspace. Ven began moving towards the hanger and as he reached out to the Force, he was not met with the calm, cool presence of the world he had visited as a padawan. There was terror on the winds of this world.

The Grandmaster was waiting above the blue orb of Ilum. The world was consumed with a storm, his readouts detailing the intense winds and heavy snowfall covering most of its landmass. He knew he couldn’t go into the world until other Jedi reinforcements arrived or they’d never make contact, but each moment spent waiting felt like an eternity. The world was so permeated with the Force that sensing signatures and presences was as difficult as seeing in it’s snowstorms. He remained kneeled in the cockpit, stretching out his senses to touch the atmosphere and open his presence in the Force to the rest of the system.  

He could feel the spirits of the Jedi onboard growing tense as they searched for any trace of the Empire but the world was a silent swirling mass of snow and ice. A gentle nudge in the Force drew the Grandmaster to outside the system and he felt familiar presences in the Force approaching. The Grandmaster opened a Battle-meld to the Jedi, a welcoming presence to the those onboard and arriving. He poured reassurance and tranquility into the meld, a confidence he was unsure if he felt. His radar indicated a heavy transport ship dropping out of light-speed on the night side of Ilum and Cain opened a tight-beam frequency as he connected to the Jedi Command defense network. On his radar, six star fighters were escorting The Kuat Ace, the ship that his task force had been operating out of the past month, and he sent over coordinates for rendezvous as the Jedi convoy shifted quickly into motion. The Jedi each opened themselves up to the meld, connecting through the Force, welcoming, and reassuring one another. Cain recognized each of their presences.

The Force told the Grandmaster that other Jedi would be approaching shortly. He knew that Master Tarven would not stand idly by while the Baron Do were hunted. He also wouldn’t be surprised if she had known before he did. The Master was powerful in the Force and the Jedi Knights here were strong. Though he feared his Order might not be able to bear the full weight of an Imperial war, he knew that the Jedi were once again standing up for those in need; symbols of the light. The other ship began drawing closer, a dull grey freighter soared in the center of six X-wings with sleek grey and blue-black hulls.

“Grandmaster, you are cleared for the hanger.” Jedi Knight Vunnent’s level voice came across the speaker.

“Thank you.” He said before starting the approach to towards the open dock. As he moved in, each of the X-wing pilots did a fly-by, each dropping him some type of signal. He had flown with each of them now for some time, though only a few of them had encountered battle yet. One presence, however, was guarded and knew too well what might await on this world. The Kiffar Jedi Ven’s X-wing came up by him and Cain opened up a comm.

“Good to see you, Ven.” He was one of the first to arrive to Zian, following the call of the Force and seeking training. “I’ll send out orders through Seeo. Go ahead and deploy your ships.” Cain reached out and touched Ven’s presence in the force, deep wells that were etched with deep pain and sorrow, and it wounded Cain each time the Grandmaster saw the Knight. The galaxy had been cruel to many like Ven, like many of his Jedi students and exiles, and they had suffered a life on the run that still haunted Cain. He reminded himself at night that the Jedi had never deserved any of that, even if there were times he wondered if the Order might have. The Sith had always drawn the Jedi into their schemes and wars that had cost so many lives, but the Jedi were never faultless and many of their own Order had been the ones who had fallen to that dark path. “We’ll form up on The Halcyon.” The Jedi in Cain’s transport readied their lightsabers and piloting interfaces. As soon as they touched down, they’d be moving into patrols across the system’s perimeter while Cain transferred to his own ship.

Passing through iridescent blue shields, a landing spot was cleared in the hanger while several Jedi were quickly jumping into ships or preparing small shuttles to begin a sweep of the planet. There was a distinct note in the Force that let him know that most of the present Jedi were members or students of the Legion of Light, a fierce fire burning in them to protect the Sages. The ship landed and Cain was quickly moving towards the back of the hanger where his sleek black X-wing was being readied.

A small disc with a large blue-black eye rested on top of the ship, the rest of the SE-00 droid was tucked away carefully in the rest of ship. It chirped mechanical sounds like sneezes, a blue metal model that crossed the Serv-O-Droid with their pit and gatekeeper lines.

Cain relaxed into the cockpit. Most of his life had been spent in an X-wing and for the past eight years, he spent his restless nights slowly crafting his own ship. The familiar engines came to life as he heard Seeo beeping through the ship.

“You were getting recharged.” Cain clipped his crash harness. “You didn’t even know I was gone.”

“Glad you’re back, Grandmaster.” A voice came into his cockpit, heavy with a Courscanti accent. Jedi Kane was a young man speaking from the makeshift command center of the freighter. A brilliant pilot, he served as a Warden for the Legion in Unknown Regions.

“No sign of Imperial presence.” As Cain’s ship started to lift, he could feel Kane molding into the Battle-meld.

“Nothing on our sensors either.” Kane replied. The Halcyon rocketed out into the deep cold of space. “Any contact with Elder Voon?” Baron Do Elder Dar Voon, the leader of the Sages, should have been clearly recognizable in the Force. The aged Kel Dor was a beacon of the light side, staunchly opposed to any lenience to the Dark Side. His presence should have been a lighthouse in the worlds maelstrom, but Isolder didn’t sense anything that resembled him. The Halcyon shifted out into the empty space in front of the Jedi forces.

“Stay in orbit. Send in Jedi forces as they arrive.” Other ships were starting to lift off in the hanger, small teams of Jedi forming up to scan the planet prepared to move once the Grandmaster began.

Hyperspace was a peaceful place for Mal. In hyperspace, in the vast distances between stars, she could be alone.

It wasn't that the Jedi Master didn't like people. Far from it. She had devoted her life to helping others, healing and teaching, and did not regret that decision for an instant. But even after years of learning to shield her mind, being around others could be exhausting. Her ability to pick up on thoughts and emotions had always been particularly sensitive, to the point that it had been overwhelming and terrifying when she was a young girl. She had been unable to function, crushed beneath the weight of seeing into so many people's lives. Until the Jedi had found her. Until her first mentor had taught her to filter that raging torrent down to a calm, manageable stream.

Even almost thirty years later, however, it still took effort to walk her mind through the exercises that protected it, keeping out the rush of sentient hopes and fears that always brushed up against her senses. So she treasured these moments when she was far from all living things, just her and M9-T9, who was more than capable of putting the small personal transport through its paces and navigating across the Outer Rim to Ilum on his own. That was just as well. Mal's gift lay in connecting with living things; she'd never been much of a pilot. She knew her limitations, accepted that no one could learn to be good at everything, and relied fully on her cheerful little astromech in times like these.

Speaking of M9, Mal thought with a smile, as the droid's bright little trill from the cockpit signaled that they were about to drop out of hyperspace. The Jedi Master drew in a deep breath, then slowly released it as the bright blue tunnel beyond the viewport slowly collapsed into an endless field of stars. Ilum shot up before her, a round canvas of whites and blues, roiling with stormclouds. Immediately Mal sensed others - she was far from the first Jedi to arrive. More than the individual presence of fellow members of the order, however, she felt a presence spreading out to link them all, at once a warm blanket of reassurance and a sharp, focusing presence, like a shot of caf.

She smiled. The meld could only be Cain Isolder, trying as always to tie his disparate Jedi together.

"Grandmaster," she acknowledged, using the comm channel the Jedi were employing to coordinate. Behind her ship, several other transports dropped out of hyperspace. She had not come alone because she enjoyed solitude, though that had been a perk; the task force assembled on Zian had taken far more transports than were necessary for their numbers because they hoped to fill them with rescued Baran Do sages on the way back. Hopefully there would be enough survivors to make that decision worthwhile. Mal couldn't see any sign of an Imperial presence yet, so perhaps the Force had guided them here in enough time to avoid conflict. But she had an uneasy feeling that wouldn't last.

"Our transports are ready, and medical teams are standing by. We'll deploy on your order."

Sooner was better. Mal let her hand fall to her lightsaber, clipped on her belt. She had taken limbs with it, and even lives, more than once. She remembered every one, every shocked face, the maelstrom of emotions that overcame each of them as she caused them suffering in order to protect someone else. And she remembered the wisdom of the ancient Jedi Master Odan-Urr: if you draw your lightsaber, you must be prepared to take a life. Mal was prepared. She knew what she stood for, knew that it mattered, knew that it was sometimes necessary to end a threat forever. But every time she stood here, on the verge of what might become a battle, she sought out every alternative first.

If inquisitors were truly involved here, though, she doubted they would permit her any alternative. She remembered them all too well, remembered the long years when she and others like her had been hunted to the ends of the galaxy. Fanatical hate and fear, even without the Force, made a being unstable and dangerous, and she could not imagine an inquisitor who did not feel both toward Jedi, Sith, and all those in between. With another deep, steadying breath, she reached out for the thermal mantle that would go over her robes, protecting her from Ilum's howling chill. M9 maneuvered the transport into position behind the Halcyon. At the Grandmaster's word, they would move.

Cain felt the Jedi forming into the battle-meld. He began to input a series of coordinates into his tactical display. His droid unit beeped as it transmitted the codes and briefing over secure channels to the mismatched task force of Jedi starfighters moving into formation around him.

“This is Grandmaster Isolder.” He began transmitting. “Thank you for heeding the call. Distress signals were sent by Elder Voon, but we’ve been able to locate his clan of the Baron Do. I’m sending squad assignments and sectors of the planet. Each squad to sweep the planet, looking for any sign of the Baron Do or Imperial forces. Be extremely careful if you encounter hostile forces and only engage when necessary. If the Command network and comms don’t work, then use the battle meld. Keep yourself open to the Force.” He paused. “May the Force be with you.”

He felt the familiar presence of Master Tarven moving next to him like a cool, calming wind rising from the world. Activating his readout, he adjusted his own squadron to include both Ven and Mal and designated them as Guardian Squad. Mal might have recognized the name given Guardian Squad’s reputation during the years of the Galactic Triumvirate. In the days of the Old Order, they were ace Jedi pilots key to a number of vital missions and a point of legend that increased morale throughout the ranks. Originally, they served the Republic during it’s decline in the Clone Wars. Each member with it’s own set of skills that made them an unstoppable force on any type of specialized, clandestine, or dangerous mission. Since the last battle of Bakura, The Halycon had been the final remnant of the squadron. He designated Mal as Guardian Two and Ven as Guardian Three.

He looked back out the viewport, wrestling to keep his mind in the present. The world made it difficult though. He hadn’t been to Ilum in almost thirty years. The world had been tranquil back then and where a young Jedi Knight had brought his first apprentice. Now the Jedi Order had returned to world once more. Tanya would have been proud. A beep from Seeo finally snapped Cain back to the present as each Jedi called in status reports.

“Guardian One,” Cain said. “Standing by.” He began slowly moving his ship into position far out from the freighter and switched to his squad frequency. On each squad leader’s command, the Jedi would descend. “Thank you both for coming.” He said, his deep sincerity creeping into his voice as he watched the first Jedi ships begin diving down towards Ilum.

"Guardian Two," Mal calmly confirmed, "standing by."

It was well known that Master Tarven was not a military historian; her knowledge of Force traditions, languages, and cultures was vast indeed, built up over years of both travel and study, but she did not seek out knowledge of tactics or great battles. Still, she was aware of the reputation of Guardian Squad, of the role it had played in the various conflicts that the Jedi Order had intervened in. She recognized the value of symbols, and of continuity, as Cain Isolder worked to reestablish the reputation of the Jedi in a galaxy that had not so long ago hated and feared them, hunting them almost to extinction. Still, she hoped that operating as a military unit could ultimately be avoided that day.

It was during the Clone Wars, when the Council had authorized Jedi to act as soldiers, generals, and even assassins, that the Order had badly lost its way. In a drive for victory and a desperation to preserve the political establishment of the Republic, to which the Jedi had tied their fate, they had forgotten their own guiding principles. As a result, they had become blind and vulnerable to the rising threat of the Sith. Grandmaster Isolder showed few signs of going that route; his Jedi were not linked to the Galactic Alliance, standing alone, but every time they intervened against the new Empire they risked politicizing themselves. It was the kind of move that Mal was famous for debating with members of the Legion of Light.

But today was a lifesaving mission first and foremost, and to Master Tarven that was always a goal worthy of the Jedi. She would voice no objection. M9 guided her shuttle in close behind the Grandmaster's fighter, and she watched through the viewport as other Jedi ships dove toward Ilum, conducting their search pattern for allies to rescue and potential threats to face down. Her fingers brushed the hilt of her lightsaber, built from the wreckage of her first teacher's weapon, and she reflected for a moment on the meaning of sacrifice. If it came to it today, she would die to save the Baran Do sages. No matter her gifts, her life was not any more valuable than any one of theirs.

The Living Force would guide her, and she would rise or fall on the currents of its will.

"Emnine," she began, pulling gloves tight over her hands and shrouding her face and hair in the thermal gaiter, "continue life form scans, and prepare the landing sequence, please. Once we're down, keep the engines hot. I'd like us to be ready to leave in a hurry." This particular shuttle could probably hold ten passengers, twenty in a real pinch, and there were more behind it. However many there were to be rescued, Mal was determined to find a way to ensure that none were left behind. She smiled at Isolder's thanks. "Of course, Grandmaster," she replied. "You and I both know all too well how it feels to be persecuted. Neither of us could abandon the sages to suffer the same fate."

The small cockpit of the X-wing smelled like fuel and stale water, it's engines sent out a spark every few hundred meters, and Ven tried not to stare at the hairline fracture in the canopy keeping him safe from vacuum. The astromech unit assigned to him for this mission continued to send him reassuring beeps and squeals confirming the ship was running properly, but he gripped tighter onto the yoke.

"I've flown worse." He muttered, only half speaking to the droid.

The X-wing soared passed the first squad of starfighters slowing forming up, Ven could feel the Jedi inside them through their meld. Their minds were quiet, focused and reaching out to the Grandmaster. It was a new Jedi Order, the feeling of their connection was something he thought was lost forever. Now, it fully embraced him as he could feel their care for one another and fervor for their mission.

His display screen lit up as the familiar face of Grandmaster Cain began transmitting orders and his voice across their network. They had been stationed on the same Legion freighter for weeks until he took off to the Outer Rim. Ven wasn't sure what he had been after, or if he had found it, but the Legion of Light freighter had been patrolling old Imperial Space. As the war between the GA and Empire grew worse, Cain feared that Imperial forces might begin to appear in their old fortresses. However, it seemed they were being contained between the Corellian Run and the Hydian Way.

He tried to center himself, reminding himself that so much alone time in starfighters had given him time to meditate. If Imperial forces were targeting Force-sensitives again, he knew the Jedi would have to pick a side soon. Pressure was mounting in the galaxy. The Grandmaster had refused any call back into the Alliance, and though Ven understood his reasons, he wasn't sure if neutrality suited him well.

"Thanks for the invite, Grandmaster." He said as his ship settled next to Cain and Master Tarven. "Guardian Three. Standing by and ready. Good to see you as well, Master Tarven. Hope you've brought some blankets from Zian." His astromech chirped as he stopped the engines. He had never been to Ilum, but he had traveled with Cain to meet with the Baron Do on a few occasions. It took quite an effort to keep his fear from creeping into his light tone and from his presence in the Force. He knew very well what the Inquisitors were capable of.

“We’ll find them in time.” The Grandmaster said. “Form up on my tail. We’ll spread into survey formation once we clear atmo.” The ship began to accelerate, Cain could feel the drop in his stomach as he sharply began soaring towards the planet. The Jedi spread across the world like a shield as Guardian Squad traveled towards the southern pole of Ilum. “Seeo has pinpointed most likely locations for the Sages. We’re headed towards the southern caves. Still no other ships in orbit.”

Of all the duties now on his shoulders as Grandmaster, the most overbearing on most days was the constant need to speak. On a good day, he could simply listen, that was what he was good at, and let the Force and those around him guide the path. Good days were hard to find in a cold galaxy. Many of his Jedi had lived in a galaxy afraid or hateful of them, no one to offer guidance or discipline. It was a mantle he bore not out of want or desire, but necessity.

The swirling blue horizon of the planet filled his canopy as he began to see sparks at the tip of the ship’s nose suggesting atmospheric entry. The X3-wing shook under the pressure, but each Jedi ship was quickly consumed by the raging clouds. Even through the ship, he could feel the rumbling strikes of the storm lighting up the swarm of clouds. Seeo beeped out high-pitch squeals as Cain kept his approach in a straight descent and let his connection to the Force broaden.

“We’ll be coming out at the main cave.” Cain was unsure if the other Jedi had been here, but it had been a commonplace for Jedi Knights of the old Order and many Padawans traveled here to collect their first crystal. Cain could sense his own crystals, their pulse in the Force matching his own. One of the gems had come from these caves, as had his apprentice's. “I haven’t been able to sense any presences in the Force. Keep in contact and fly low."

As they finally broke through the colds, the bleak winter storm-struck landscape of Ilum disappeared beyond the colossal blossom of bright colors beneath them. An immense sinkhole buried in self deep into the world, with hundreds of catacombs with brightly colored crystals shining in spikes of blue, yellow, green, and purple. Cain began leveling out his ship, making a wide pass of the area. Visibility was alright, but the heavy sheets of snow fall did pose a challenge. The Force was still quiet, stirred only by the storm around him. The Jedi each called out to the Sages as Cain felt them through the meld.

"Reach out." Cain said to each of them.