Prologue

Yoda knew that concentrating on the task at hand would keep his emotions at bay. Emotions were a luxury, an indulgence of the weak minded. After a morning spent listening to Jedi masters telling him not to dwell on loss, he was glad to be outside doing something. He made sure to feel the warm sand under his feet and the wood of the rake in his hands as he wove the rake's spikes through the tiny grains. Circle after circle he drew, careful that each was uniform in size and shape. After five hundred perfectly drawn circles were drawn, the small green padawan carefully turned the rake around and smoothed over the surface, erasing all of his work. A soft wind blew easily through the padawan's dark moss colored hair and afforded him a small respite from the Coruscant sun. The open courtyard lay at the rear of the massive Jedi Temple grounds, far removed from any garden life or decoration, exposing anyone to the all the elements at this height. The pit, barely noticeable most of the time, had been filled with sand earlier that day.

"Yoda," a large Ithorian girl called out. She approached with a thousand kilogram bundle of wood perched atop her immense shoulders. With an ease afforded to the most powerful, she gently placed the bundle on the ground, and stretched out her muscular back, her curved head reaching for the sky.

"That was fast, Kiki."

"The masters sent me to the right merchants, and they were pretty eager to sell. I think Jedi are the only ones allowed to burn wood on this planet."

Kikifu began to separate the largest planks, bluewood from the forests of Endor, from the smaller pieces.

"Did you spend all this time just smoothing over the surface?" Kikifu asked.

"More complicated the process is," Yoda countered.

Yoda sat in the middle of the sand and looked up to empty blue. Speeders and ships were forbidden from flying over the temple.

"Have you ever been to a beach, Kiki? I don't think I've ever seen this much sand in my life."

"I haven't been anywhere but here." Kiki paused as she thought about that.

"Sit down and relax for a bit. Nice to feel the grains between your toes."

Kikifu walked over and plopped herself down next to her friend in the white sand. They both laid back and tried to find clouds. Kikifu reminded Yoda of the Mon Calamari who tried to teach them swimming techniques. Soon, the giant Kikifu started simulating the swimming strokes in the sand. With her bulky torso and long thin arms, she looked like a giant crab digging to nowhere. Yoda rolled over, laughing, as if his best friend had never made him laugh before. Kikifu lifted her head up and joined in with her deep husky chuckling.

"Are you two serious? Let's get started. I got better things do," chimed in a voice from above.

The young human, Yamnove, stared at both Yoda and Kikifu in disgust. He had just carted a load of various grasses from different parts of the known universe to the pit.

"What have you to do that's so important?" Yoda asked.

"My lightsaber training," Yamnove stated with impatience.

Yoda stood and walked to the younger Yamnove. Five years Yamnove's senior, and Yoda did not even reach his waist. Yamnove was the universe's ideal image of a Jedi: tall, lithely muscular, and strikingly handsome.

"I'll make you a deal. Grab a stick. If you can land one blow, you won't have to help us."

"Don't patronize me. I just want to get this over with," the teenager moaned.

"You're right," Yoda stated plainly. "Distrust, there has always been between us. If you help us and honor Master Ido today, I promise to help you train for one hour a day until I take my trials."

"You'd actually take the time to help me?" Yamnove asked, never taking his eyes off of Yoda.

"I train every night after last meal. Join me in practice, and I'll help you, much as I can."

Yamnove extended his had to Yoda. Yoda reach back to shake it, but before he could Yamnove swung at Yoda with a stick he already had. Yoda ducked and flipped backwards. Yamnove aggressively thrust forward, but having no experience dueling in sand lost momentum. Yoda lept at Yanmove with the quickness of a cat, grabbed his arm, used his momentum to wrap the arm around the human's back, tapped the back of his knee, dropping him, and jumped on his back as the human fell forward. Yoda pulled the wood from Yamnove's hand, but held onto the young human's wrist.

"Help you, I can. Today, and each day after, I choose to trust you."

With that, Yoda let go of Yamnove's arm. The teenager stood up, turned to Yoda, and gave him the slightest of bows. Yoda grabbed his rake and smoothed over the surface of the sand one more time. The three padawans then went to their task of building a pyre fit for a Jedi. Yoda knew that he would not have been able to finish so quickly without having an Ithorian's great strength and a human's nimble and dexterous hands.

As dusk approached, a group of Jedi healers carried the body of Master Mustali Ido, the former Chief Librarian of the Jedi Archives, from the Jedi temple to the pyre. Yoda stood solemnly and watched the healers place Master Ido on the platform he and his fellow padawan's had built on an ephemeral foundation. The healers removed the linen Master Ido was wrapped in, and laid it across the platform. They positioned his hands over his stomach, and crossed his long tentacles across his chest.

Soon many Jedi joined Yoda, standing in peaceful respect as the sky turned slowly to purple. Before the healers lit the torches, an older human, dressed in expensive black garments, strode to the back of the crowd. The man walked with the confident gait of royalty, but dressed like a member of the criminal underworld. As he joined the crowd, many felt a slight shift in the Force, but everyone's attention remained on the pyre.

The torches were lit and placed on the four corners of the pyre. The flames quickly engulfed the body of the frail old Twi'Lek, whom Yoda loved like no other teacher. Ash and heat surged through the night air. No Jedi spoke, but tears flowed down the stranger's wrinkled cheeks. He swallowed back sobs several times, making certain to remain silent.

More than an hour past, and the fire began to die out. Jedi slowly returned to the temple in silence. The only work left was for the healers; no audience was appropriate for what remained. As Master Granit left towards the temple, the older stranger with a powerful walk followed him. Master Granit had almost reached the entrance to the temple when the man finally spoke.

"Master Granit. Could I get a word with you, please," the gentleman begged.

"Not tonight," Master Granit replied brusquely. The man was a full head taller that Master Granit.

"I mean no disrespect." There was pleading in the man's eyes.

"I know who you are. I can guess what you want. If you honor Master Ido's memory, you'll understand this is not the appropriate time. You may return tomorrow, if you wish."

"I shall."

Master Granit turned and walked away without responding.

Yoda did not notice his master speaking with the man who dressed like a criminal. He stood rigidly, the pale auburn light of glowing embers reflected in his eyes. He watched the soft radiance turn to black and crumble into the sand below.