Prologue
Rhen Var
15 Years Earlier
To any ordinary being trudging through the harsh, unwelcoming climate of Imperial Village 34467 on Rhen Var, Sen Gran'do was a simple tourist visiting with his wife and two children. He was a handsome middle-aged Human male with emerald eyes, a rugged-looking face and a full head of brown, straight-combed hair that was just beginning to show signs of graying. His height was above average, and in his thick-heeled snow boots, Sen stood at roughly six and a half feet tall; his build was not discernable, for he was attired in thick, unassuming winter clothing. The stunning woman walking beside him wore the same outfit, though with ostensibly smaller proportions than her counterpart, with whom she distinctly juxtaposed. She had shimmering gold hair that hung undeterred down to her slender waist, lucid blue eyes and a soft, kind face. The two boys that accompanied them shared a seemingly random combination of these features, one—the older one, by his looks—having dusty blonde hair, and the other a deep, solid brown head of hair.
"Dad, where are we going?" inquired the older boy, just a hint of annoyance in his voice.
"I told you, Kendrick, we're out enjoying the scenery. We don't always need to have a pre-determined destination. It keeps life interesting," replied Sen. He was holding hands with the woman now, his fingers inter-laced with hers. She was huddled close to him now. "Are you cold, Anya?"
"No, I'm fine for now, honey," Anya said warmly. "But if I do get cold, you'll be sure to give me your coat, won't you?" She smiled at him, pressing even more firmly against him. He smiled back. Kendrick rolled his eyes in response.
"Get a room, will you? Geez. This is lame." He kicked a raised portion of snow, at which point his boot made a thumping sound as it connecting with something solid. Kendrick frowned, turning his attention to the spot he had just kicked. The other boy, the brown-haired one, stopped and looked at the spot as well.
"What was that, Ken?" he asked, his voice of a noticeably higher pitch than that of the elder Kendrick. He didn't get any audible reply, but Kendrick shrugged and kneeled down, digging his gloved hands into the ground. Sen and Anya turned around now, urging the two boys to keep walking. "Wait up! I think Kendrick found something."
"What is it, Logan?" asked Anya. She exchanged worried glances with Sen. "Do you feel that, too?" she whispered. Sen nodded, and reached into the inside of his coat. He removed something metallic and cylindrical, and held it loosely in his left hand. Anya noticed this, and removed something of similar texture and shape from her coat, keeping it held in her right hand. They walked slowly over to the two boys, watching as Kendrick—now aided by Logan—uncovered what they had been searching for: a charred, blaster bolt-riddled Republic-issue breastplate. The name etched into the left breast of the armor could still be clearly read: "LIEUTENANT VRTISAM". Though only a portion of the breastplate had been uncovered, it was obvious that there was nothing left of the soldier that had once occupied it: a Mon Calamari, judging by the name.
"Logan, Kendrick, on your feet," ordered Sen, his tone shifting from blissful to grave. They exchanged a quick glance, and removed items from their coat that were nearly identical to that of Sen and Anya. "Look out!" he shouted. The group dove away from the seared armor simultaneously, and the air was very suddenly filled with snow and debris. They stood up almost as soon as they had hit the ground, the cylindrical items they had been holding—recognizable now as lightsabers—emitting brilliantly glowing colored beams. Sen and Kendrick held their respective purple and yellow blades in a high guard, while Anya and Logan held their respective blue and green blades in a lower, more relaxed guard.
"So much for our family walk, Master," said Kendrick, traces of a smirk forming on his face. His eyes were darting from left to right, obviously searching for someone or something in the distance. The area around them was sparsely populated with nostalgic wooden cabins on one side, a solidly frozen lake in the center, and an oddly placed landing pad on the other side; the entire area itself was surrounded by high cliffs.
"Don't worry, Kendrick, we'll have plenty of time…" Sen began, before letting his sentence trail off. Something wasn't right. If there was one thing that Sen had learned in his decades as a Jedi, it was to trust in the Force. To many, the Force was just a myth formulated by a hokey old cult. Sen knew better than that, but he didn't blame the non-believers. It isn't really something that one believes in unless he really experiences it… really feels it. The Force may bind all things, but the ability to manipulate and feel this mystical, omniscient energy is an honor bestowed to a small percentage of the universe's beings. Right now, the Force was telling Sen that things were about to get a lot more complicated. Turning around to come face-to-face with an all-too-familiar figure confirmed that the Force was, as usual, all too right.
"Sen, it has been far too long," greeted the figure. His voice was deep and rich, and he was clad in a midnight black cloak, the connected hood draped over most of his face. "Tell me, brother, how many of these Jedi I will have to kill before you come with me where you belong?" The figure produced a lightsaber hilt from the sleeve of his robe, and from it emitted a brilliant white blade, almost indistinguishable from the snow-covered terrain.
"Hawk, don't do thi—" started Sen.
"Don't lecture me, brother," Hawk interrupted. "But if you decide at any point that you'll join me, don't hesitate to say so… it'll save the Jedi Order quite a few Jedi in the long run." He laughed as he threw off his cloak and leapt without hesitation at the four Jedi.