Good Will Always Triumph

A galaxy in turmoil, a beacon of hope extinguished. The Empire's grip tightens, but the Force finds a way. Two years have passed since the fall of the Jedi known as Bode Akuna; a traitor turned by the dark side's allure. His betrayal led to the loss of Eno Cordova, a sage whose wisdom is now but a whisper on the winds of Tanalorr.

Cal Kestis, once a fugitive, now a guardian of legacy, stands firm on this hidden world. The Temple of the New Dawn rises, a testament to resilience. Here, Cal has nurtured a new generation, teaching them the ways of the Force, away from the shadow of the Empire.

But peace is a fragile veil. Whispers of unrest stir in the cosmos, and the specter of the past looms. The Empire hunts relentlessly, seeking to snuff out the embers of rebellion. Yet, in the heart of Tanalorr, hope kindles anew, for the legacy of the Jedi endures through those who believe.

Inside the temple of The Order of the New Dawn, Cal Kestis watched his padawans sparring. He didn't start off with many, but he now had over forty members. A little over twenty of them were padawans.

Next to him, one of his few Jedi Knights, and the second most known in the order, Zane Kryze; a Mandalorian turned Jedi. Zane still boasted his armor, a shiny turquoise that matched the blade of light he wielded.

Zane was not much younger than Cal, only two years. 

They were not bound by blood yet held a brotherhood between one another.

Cal watched the sparring padawans, a hint of pride in his eyes. "They're showing real improvement. Have you given any thought to what we discussed?"

Zane's visor was opaque. Nobody had ever seen under his armor. He was a mystery to many, yet he wasn't at the same time. After all, his last name carried weight on Mandalore. 

Zane, ever the enigma behind his visor, hesitated. "I have, and the answer is no. You know as well as I do that, I'm not cut out to be a master."

"I wouldn't be so certain. Look," he pointed to one of the sparring matches. One, a human boy with blonde hair and blue eyes, stood across from a pale skinned Zambrak girl. Horns gathered around the top of her head, like a crown.

The two were using practice sabers, made of wood.

"You've already been a mentor to them in many ways."

"Only, because of you, master." Zane said, caressing the hilt of his saber, which was unlike anything anybody at the temple had ever seen. For whatever reason, it had a scabbard, and the hole in the hilt was more like a line; the light was thin as opposed to round.

He simply rubbed his fingers across it, continuing, "but if you toss some kid under me, I... just don't see it turning out well."

Cal placed a reassuring hand on Zane's armored shoulder. "Don't sell yourself short. You have the makings of a great master. What if I entrusted both of them to your care?"

"What!?" Zane exclaimed. "Don't be an idiot, Cal. I could barely take care of myself until you picked me up. You think I can make do with two kids? Nuh uh, I do NOT want to be a father this young." He crossed his arms.

Cal's smirk widened. "And what does that make me? The father of a burgeoning order?"

Zane's retort came muffled through his helmet. "At this rate, you're practically a venerable sage."

Cal didn't take offense, though. He simply laughed at it, then glanced back at the two kids, "too late. I've made up my mind. Now, let's go introduce you as their new teacher."

Zane sighed but followed right behind. The two children stopped at the request of a Jedi Guardian, Tarnis Val. She dipped her head slightly, "Master Kestis," she said, looking at Cal then turning her head, "Zane."

The two did the same, returning the favor.

Then, Cal glanced down at the two kids. He crouched down, one hand over the other. "Your name is Ken, correct?" He asked the boy, who looked nervous.

He stuttered, but he managed to reply, "y-yes... Master Kestis."

"And you are Kali?"

The girl nodded her head.

Cal slightly groaned as he pushed off his knees, standing again. "You've both impressed me greatly. I'm proud of your progress." He motioned towards Zane. "This here is Master Kryze."

The two children felt like they should be happy, but the mask was too intimidating. And the way he constantly held a hand over his lightsaber, as if he were waiting for battle.

Cal cut to the heart of the matter. "Master Kryze will be taking you both under his wing as padawans."

The two children quickly exchanged looks. Ken looked exalted whilst Kali's eyes simply widened. "R-really?!" Ken was nearly jumping up and down.

Yes, Zane looked intimidating, but the fact was, they knew he was a good person. 

He was a Jedi Knight and direct student of Cal Kestis. 

Cal reassured them with a gentle jest. "He may seem daunting, but trust me, he's a good man and an exceptional teacher."

He rubbed his hand through Ken's hair, looking at Tarnis, "please, resume their training. Soon, they'll go out on a mission."

"!" Everyone there looked crazy at Cal, except nobody could tell Zane was also screaming, "WTF!?" In his head.

Cal's stride was purposeful as he and Zane departed from the training grounds.

"A mission?" Zane inquired, a hint of curiosity in his tone.

Cal nodded, "yes, and I'll be away as well. Your task will be to support mine."

They navigated the temple's corridors, the hum of activity from students and masters alike filling the air. "I've received a signal from beyond our current reach. It suggests the presence of another Jedi enclave."

Zane's skepticism was evident. "Could that be? We've already gathered an unprecedented number of Force sensitives."

Cal's response was measured, yet firm. "It's extraordinary, indeed. But it also indicates that there may be more of us remaining than we dared hope. I must investigate this."

As they rounded a corner, Zane's frustration surfaced. "And what of my assignment? When do I begin? I've scarcely had time to acquaint myself with the padawans you've entrusted to me."

Cal paused to activate a hidden mechanism; the wall before them trembled and ascended, revealing the bright world outside.

Shielding his eyes from the glare, Cal elaborated, "you have three days. Ensure your holocomm is with you at all times. Your initial mission will likely involve the neighboring planets. I require assistance in pinpointing the signal's origin."

Stepping into the daylight, Cal posed the question, "are you prepared?"

Zane's resignation was palpable. "I am."

Cal's smile was knowing. "Excellent. Though, your participation was never in question."

The two walked further out from the temple, headed for Cal's ship.

*********

Somewhere in the galaxy.

"Hurry!" A man roared, "the Sith are here!"

Everybody in the room full of computers were scattered, grabbing piles of paper from boxes and stacking them in their ships. They were part of a small rebel group, but their time had come.

For Darth Vader knew where they were.

That same man scurried across the room. He was looking for something. He tossed some papers around, threw a table over, but found it on the ground.

"My transceiver." He whispered, nearly kissing it, but reminded himself of the predicament. As he got up, he turned around quickly, bumping into somebody.

"Claire?!" He blurted.

"Blake!?" She replied.

"Why haven't you left!?" He questioned.

"Well, why haven't you?!"

"This!" He said, holding up his transceiver. "We have a lot of information here that we need to get to Iblis! But I also got everything up here!" He pointed at his own head.

"Then what the hell are we still doing here!" She replied, "let's take my ship!" She took Blake's hand and pushed through the crowds of people. Headed into the back of the building, Blake yelled, "where the hell did you land!?"

"In the bac--" they both stopped running. The walls were already rumbling from all the ships taking off, but a new noise invaded. It was a quick, whoosh sound that ended with a thunderous explosion following.

"Go! Go! Go!" Blake said.

Claire tightened her grip around his hand, taking a sharp turn around a corner. The roof begun to tear apart and they busted out from a metal door. "Agh." Blake held his shoulder, getting off the ground with Claire's help.

"There it is." She huffed, out of breath. "The Voyager..."

In the midst of a desolate expanse, the Voyager stood as a silent sentinel, its matte black hull blending seamlessly with the rugged terrain of the alien world. Angular and imposing, it exuded an aura of quiet strength, a testament to its resilience in the face of adversity. Twin laser cannons remained concealed beneath its streamlined exterior, a silent reminder of the vessel's readiness for whatever dangers lurked beyond the horizon.

"Damn." Blake panted, "how the hell did you get th--"

"Just shut up for now and get inside."

They both hurried into the ship. Its inside was small, not much room in the hallways. "Follow me." Claire said, stepping over wires and between them. Eventually, they found themselves at the brain of the ship.

She flicked a red light, then two black ones after that. Blake felt his feet lift from the ground for a split second as he caught himself, "Hell, I thought this thing was nice!" He spoke.

"Oh, shut it and get down to the gunner!"

Blake swiftly went back into the tight hallways, walking down one flight of stairs. He got into the small cockpit. He sat down, muttering to himself, "manual... manual... manual." He wiped the sweat off his forehead, finding a piece of paper in a cubby on the side, "manual!" He rejoiced, flipping the pages open.

He uttered the words out loud as he flipped a few switches. Then, the screens in front of him turned on, their background red. "Yes!"

He looked to the side, noticing some earphones. He tackled them onto his head, brought the mic next to his mouth, and said, "Claire!"

Nothing but static for the first few seconds. Until, "Blake?! Can you hear me?!" A voice resonated.

"Claire!?" Blake almost laughed, "I got both canons on!"

"Great! Now prepare for liftoff!"

The ship rattled, violently, as it was raised from the ground. Blake gripped the turret controls, its grip rough against his skin. Yet, his nervousness died down a little once the ship stopped the abrupt shaking.

It still shook, of course, but on a much smaller level.

He exhaled a breath of relief.

"Don't get comfortable yet, Blake. We still gotta get outta here." Her voice crackled through to Blake, who licked his dry lips, a tick of his when nervous.

As the two of them started their escape, one of the many ships descended, reigning down fire. One thing was obvious though, and that was the fact that it was the biggest ship in the atmosphere.

Inside, tens of men sat across from screens giving out orders.

And in the middle of the corridor, a faint but ominous sound pierced the silence, a rhythmic mechanical exhale that seemed to draw closer with each passing moment, sending a wave of apprehension coursing through every man's vein, its source unseen but undeniably menacing.

"Lord Vader." A man said, kneeling in front of the caped villain.

"What is it?" Vader's voice rumbled, his tone resonating with authority. "I trust you bring tidings of significance, Lieutenant."

"O-of course, haha... of course Lord Vader." His hands were uncontrollable as he held some necklace up. "The fourteenth sister apprehended this... she... she said you'd find much interest in it."

Hmm-pshh.

Using the Force, Vader pulled the necklace to him. It was nothing too special; made of gold with a pendant. Vader's breathing continued to send shivers down the man's fear as he opened the pendant.

"You have served adequately, Lieutenant."

"Thank you... L-Lord Vader."

Vader turned around, giving an order to go lower.

Meanwhile, Blake and Claire were zooming through the air. Tie fighters blew past them, traversing above the vast trees.

"Shoot them down!" Claire warned, gritting her teeth as she maneuvered Voyager through hills of greenery.

"I'm trying!"

Blake saw a Tie in his line of sight. He took the controls, leveled them as best he could. "Come on... come on." He said to himself, a sudden beeping turning into a whistle of death as it read: Locked.

"Leave us the hell alone!" Blake said, slamming his fingers down on the red buttons, lasers propelling out from the turrets as it made impact with the Tie.

The ricochet nearly hit the ship as the dark smoke filled a small pocket of air.

"WOOHOO!" Blake threw his arms up, "Claire, did you see that!?"

She chuckled. "I sure did, space cowboy."

"That's right! I'm not just some cowboy! I'm a god damn space cowboy!"

As the two of them reveled in their brief victory, an ominous rumble reverberated through the ship's hull, disrupting their jubilation. Suddenly, alarms blared, drowning out their banter as the ship was violently jolted from side to side. Blake's hands clenched instinctively around the turret controls, his knuckles whitening with the force of the impact.

"Wh-what's happening?!" Blake yelled over the cacophony of alarms and rattling metal.

Claire's voice crackled through the earphones, barely audible above the din. "We're taking fire! Brace yourself, Blake!"

Before Blake could react, a deafening explosion rocked the ship, sending shockwaves rippling through the cockpit. The once steady ascent turned into a chaotic descent as the ship plummeted toward the surface below. Blake's heart pounded in his chest as adrenaline surged through his veins, his entire world reduced to the chaos unfolding around him.

In a flurry of sparks and smoke, the ship careened downward, crashing through the dense canopy of trees with a deafening roar. The impact was bone-jarring, sending Blake and Claire tumbling in their seats as metal groaned and buckled around them. Through the shattered viewport, the verdant landscape blurred past in a dizzying whirl as the ship skidded and shuddered to a halt, coming to rest amidst the wreckage of its own making.

"Cough! Cough!" Blake's lungs were invaded by smoke. He tried opening his eyes, nothing but that very same smoke up in the air. "Urgh." He moaned, realizing that he was upside down. He tried to use some momentum, falling forward, back onto his stomach. But he let out a pained cry, quickly hovering a hand over his mouth.

They had been shot down, if those same people were coming to investigate, then he knew he couldn't be loud.

But what was that pain he felt?

He glanced down, noticing not one, but two shards of glass sunk into his right thigh. The blood spilled through the pants, trailing all the way down. "U-urgh..."

He so badly wanted to pull them out, but instead chose not to. Not until he found something like a rag.

"!" He jolted, patting his own body down. Then, he felt it, the transceiver. "Thank God." He heaved, but a momentary ambition filled his mind, "Claire..."

His bones felt like they were cracked, the pain colossal with each step like stepping on a thousand nails.

Yet, he continued on. With the stairs being upside down, he simply grabbed onto the rails. With sheer strength, he lifted himself from the ground, tossing himself over onto the main floor. Wires crackled around the room, bursts of orange and blue filling his vision.

But he proceeded onwards, walking over and under them. Some struck him, resulting in a low groan, but he suppressed the pain.

And soon, he was at the main cockpit.

"Claire!" He nearly yelled, rushing to the woman laid out over the 'floor'. 

He placed a hand under her neck, her peachy hair cascading around it. "Are you okay!?" He said, "hey," he placed another hand around her cheek, "Claire, are you there!? Open your eyes!"

He felt her neck.

Ba-Dump!

Once again, he wanted to feel good, but the last few times he reveled in joy didn't go too well. So, he surveyed her body, looking for any injuries.

"You got lucky." He scoffed. "Just some scratches..."

He cranked his neck backwards, staring at the 'ceiling'. 

"We can't just stay in here..." He whispered, "damn it. Damn it. Damn it!"

He looked at his injury again. "Fuck it." He unwrapped the bandana around Claire's forehead, "I can only hope you'll understand. Yeah... you'll understand."

He gripped one of the shards. He breathed, unevenly, then gritted his teeth and tore it out. "ACK!" He bit down on the bandana. As he took it from his mouth, he hovered it over the spot, suddenly hit by how much more disgusting it was than he thought it would be.

Flesh had been torn out, creating layers of different thickness of skin whilst blood poured out, like an overfilled pitcher.

He wrapped it around the wound, tightly. 

However, there was still one more shard in his thigh. He glanced around the room, but the smoke had become too much, his coughs turning violent. 

He grabbed Claire by her neck and tossed her onto his shoulders, despite the pain. The immense pain was a bottomless pit, swallowing every ounce of joy.

But he didn't give up.

With each heavy step, he walked out of the ship, and into the forest of trees. He turned his head to one of his shoulders, Claire in his peripheral vision, "we're going to be okay." He spoke.