Chapter 3
Jedi Peril
As much as Sylvia understood the importance of the Economic Oversight Committee, she still found it horribly boring. The various politicians had nothing to do except argue. Which worlds had suffered more during the war? Which systems had contributed the most to the Republic? Which systems deserved aid more? Which systems were more prestigious? Ugh. It made her want to bang her head on the table.
She didn't. As mediator, it was her job to settle disputes and give advice. Advice these childish morons probably wouldn't even bother acknowledging. This was, to Sylvia, why the Jedi were better suited for handling military matters and should only work with the military. Despite the layers of command and protocol, the various branches of the military were straight forward and to the point. You had your orders, you followed them. Here, each Senator thought he or she was in charge and attempted to assert dominance over the proceedings. It was quite fortunate that under the structures of the Republic government, career politicians were strictly forbidden and term limits enforced. This at least gave other people a chance to govern and a chance to clean out the idiots who thought politics was a good thing.
Somehow they had gone a full hour without anyone being Force-strangled.
As another Senator took the floor to bring up yet another argument, no doubt rehashing points already discussed a dozen times over, Sylvia barely suppressed a gasp. Her vision spun and she nearly blacked out. Dizziness and nausea slammed into her like a freight train. Her stomach churned. She gasped for breath.
After a moment her vision returned and the dizziness faded. To her embarrassment, she had managed to attract the attention of most of the committee.
"Master Jedi?" Senator Orn Taa, the Senator of Ryloth, asked as he placed a gentle hand on her arm. "Are you alright?"
Sylvia pondered the question. Was she? What had happened? She ignored the blush creeping up her cheeks and focused. Her stomach settled. "Yes. I'm fine."
"Are you sure?"
She shot him a look. "I'm fine, Senator. We may continue."
Slowly, Senator Orn Taa resumed his speech, speaking of the value of Ryloth to the Republic. The exceptionally large Twi'Lek was rather wordy. His speech was so bloated one could fight an entire war and he would still be talking.
"Sylvia." Initially, the voice surprised her. She had not sensed her husband walk in. Then she realized that the voice had come from within her own head. From the powerful bond she and Matthew shared.
"I'm ok Matt, I promise," she said in her head. She layered the words with her thoughts and her analysis of herself, sending a trace of her physical presence to him. She felt his senses probing it almost like eyes and sighed. She loved Matthew, but he could be overprotective at times. "Matt."
"Sorry. Just checking."
"Trust me, I'm ok. I'd tell you if I wasn't."
"Sorry."
"It's ok. I'm going to finish the meeting and head to the Praxeum to find out what happened." She glanced around the room. Telepathic communication required the communicators to go into an almost trance-like state due to the concentration needed. Distance especially affected the amount of concentration. They were close enough that Sylvia wasn't too distracted. But she really hadn't taken in a single word that was being said. All she knew was that another Senator had taken the floor.
Matthew's senses spiked, a note of urgency. "We need you here. Now. This...whatever this is. It happened to all the Jedi at the Praxeum."
"When you say all...?" Sylvia's thoughts trailed off.
He read what she was not asking instantly. "Yes. Even the Younglings."
Sylvia was instantly on her feet. Once again all eyes were on her. This time, however, she did not care. "Senators, an urgent matter has come up at the Praxeum. I'm afraid it requires my immediate attention." She pushed back from the table and stood as regally as she could muster. Apparently her limbs were still somewhat shaky.
"Master White, do you require medical assistance?"
Sylvia shot the Rodian woman standing at the right side of Senator Kalanus from Bespin a look. "Thank you. But I'm fine. I'll be at the Praxeum if anyone requires me." Her gaze swept the Senators, daring any of them to speak up next. When none did she swept her robes about her and strode out the door without a backwards glance.
She instantly wished that she had remained. If her family did not need her she would have been quite content to remain in the meeting. The politicians sucked, but at the very least the room was air-conditioned. Out here in the open hallways was a different story. Controls must have malfunctioned. The heat was way to high. Sweat beaded her forehead within minutes.
The landing pad had never been a more welcome sight. New Coruscant was a beautiful place, with buildings jutting up into the clouds, sandwiched together and connected by sub trains. Speeders and ships of all sizes wove through traffic lanes in the skies, most lanes merely connecting a few buildings but some connected cities together.
Cool air on her face felt amazing. It reminded her of her birthplace. The region formerly known as Michigan, where she had spent her early childhood before being recruited into the Jedi. She smiled to herself as she got into her speeder. Joining the Jedi was one of the best decisions in her life. Arguably the best. If she hadn't, would have never met Matthew or had Jack and Erica. And she might've ended up in a meaningless career that would mean nothing in the grand scheme.
Speaking of making a difference. Sylvia's smile faded as she gunned the engine to her speeder. As she lifted off, the canopy slid into place over her, shielding her from the rain. She took off, easing into the nearest traffic lane.
When Sylvia reached the Praxeum, the atmosphere felt different. Subdued. Jedi bustled about quicker than usual. The Force itself felt wrong. Like a cold, clear river full of sparkling water that had been tainted by poison. It seemed to drag her down physically and mentally, sapping her energy and seeming to bring back the worst memories and fears she had long since defeated. Still, she soldiered on, finding Matthew in the Medical Center.
This was the busiest hub of activity. The circular room was lined with beds. It was lit with glowing white lights and the walls were of a light grey color. Decorations of various culture's artworks and of Jedi emblems were placed in strategic viewing places to allow for a sense of home. It seemed to help Younglings feel more at peace when being treated.
Speaking of the Younglings. Sylvia let out a gasp of horror when a young Jedi nurse moved aside, allowing her a glimpse of the problem Matthew had needed her for. Several dozen children of varying species, all unconscious, were laid to rest on the beds. Others were on the floor, covered by blankets. Their young faces seemed to be little masks of fear and sickness.
Someone accidentally brushed against her shoulder. Sylvia jumped and scooted to the side to allow them to pass. She watched as two Jedi carried a young Rodian, one she recognized as a Padawan and friend of Jack's, and set him down next to a Twi'Lek Youngling that could have been no older than five Earth years old. Her heart sank.
"Sylvia." A warm hand closed on her shoulder. "Hey."
She turned and met Matthew's eye. "What happened?"
"That's what I need your help to find out, love." His Force aura blazed with so many different emotions. Fear. Worry. Determination. His face was impassive, calm. It was only because Sylvia knew him so well that she could sense what was underneath. "Can you go to my vault?"
"The...?" She blinked in confusion.
"My vault. The Grand Master's Vault."
Sylvia tilted her head. "But I'm not the Grand Master."
One. One. Zero. Four. One. Four. Two. Zero. Two. Zero. The numbers rose, unbidden, uncalled into her mind. It took her a second to guess what it was. The code to the vault that Matthew spoke of.
"Go. Get me two Holocrons. You will know which ones."
"Do you have to be so mysterious?"
Matthew smirked despite the situation. "Yes." He kissed her forehead. "Meet me in the Room of a Thousand Fountains, please. I love you."
"I love you to." She gave him a small smile and left. As the door hissed shut behind her, Matthew allowed himself a moment to wonder how he had been lucky enough to marry the most beautiful, most loving, most caring, strongest woman in the galaxy.
A cough at his shoulder jerked him from his thoughts and Raymond spoke. "Matt. They are still finding more children."
"It appears this happened throughout the entire Praxeum. Take a team, search the place from top to bottom. Search every crack and crevice. Find me every single one of our children." His voice was firm and left no room for argument, indicating his switch from loving husband to calm collected leader.
Raymond, also calm, nodded curtly, turning on his heel and marching away. "Arden! Barrett! With me. Now."
The two Jedi he had spoken to dropped what they were doing and hurried after him. Matthew knew the first thing Raymond would do. Find more Jedi and coordinate search teams from there. He couldn't help but wonder why this had happened. What had happened in the Force? Had it betrayed them? Deemed them somehow unworthy to wield its power? No, that could not be it. The Jedi were the bastions of the Light, the champions of balance. Whatever had happened to the Force was something much more sinister.
Matthew turned to the nearest Youngling, a young girl of about ten. Komaree. A talented young Jedi, already with several Knights lining up to be her prospective Master when she became old enough to be a Padawan. He shot a glance at his own son on the floor next to her. He had been found near his class.
"Master White?" the Jedi nurse asked tentatively. "We are running out of room."
"Take them to the Room of a Thousand Fountains if you have to. The Force is strong there. It may assist with recovery."
"Yes, Master."
Matthew knelt beside his own son. "Jack...please be ok." He stretched forth a hand to the boy's forehead. He looked so much like his mother, and yet so much like his father it was strange in a way. "Come back to me." He allowed the Force to build within him, coursing through his body and down his arm. His fingertips seemed to glow as the energy currents traversed his fingertips to the boy beside him.
And yet, nothing changed. Shocked, Matthew removed his hand. What had gone wrong? It was a technique that was supposed to analyze the body and mind of a subject and enable the user of the technique to diagnose them quicker. Maybe his skill was rusty? He sighed. His healing skills had never been on par with the likes of Jedi like Ayrin Beals, Yaddoa or others. Physical injuries were, for the most part no problem for him. But this was a matter of the mind and of the Force itself.
He glanced up at Komaree. Maybe the bond between father and son had somehow dampened the effect of the technique? No. Not possible. It should have increased the effect. "Maybe if I try again?" He did the same thing to the girl, this time experiencing some success. It was almost as if her mind was in a trance-like state. Matthew thought back to his own experience. It had almost rendered him unconscious. Maybe something in the nature of children made them more vulnerable to whatever had happened.
"Qel," he barked.
A head popped up from where the Kuati had been overseeing another Youngling. "Master?" Matthew turned to face him. The head physician made his way towards the Grand Master. "What do you require?"
"Start analyzing these children. And some Knights as well. This girl." Matthew gestured to Komaree as he spoke. "Her mind appears to be in a trance. It is possible that the rest of the children will be the same."
"If their minds are in a trance, how are we to bring them out of it?"
Matthew considered this for a long moment before speaking. "Use every method of communication and treatment both Force-based and otherwise you can think of. If something starts to work, prioritize the use of that method." With that, he left. His feet guided him to the Room of a Thousand Fountains by instinct alone, his mind was wrapped up in thoughts. Fears. Emotions. All coursing through his mind threatening to destabilize his sanity.
The strange symptoms that had befallen the Jedi on Earth had indeed struck everywhere. Every Jedi across the galaxy, no matter of location or activity, suddenly collapsed under the weight of overwhelming dizziness and nausea. The strike team aboard Integrity was no different. They had just sat down for breakfast when all of a sudden food was no longer the most pressing of matters.
Jeremy reacted the calmest, merely laying his head down on the table and waiting it out with the occasional moan. Fal leaned back in his chair. His Mirialan Padawan Shia passed out, falling out of her seat and sprawling on the floor. Ayrin Force-grabbed a bag and threw up. Maya groaned and turned her head away. The Twi'Lek duo of Taria and Eelya put their plates down and curled up in their seats, heads resting on their knees. Eelya's body went limp after a second and she blacked out.
Unsurprising for any who knew the Temple brothers, Caleb's reaction was the most drastic. He had just been about to sit down when it hit. His plate slid from his fingers, clattering to the floor and spilling its contents as he attempted to grab the chair. In desperation for something, anything to grab onto, the Jedi Master fumbled. His footing destabilized. He fell, toppling to the side. The chair his fingers had latched onto flipped, rolling in the air to land atop his head. "OW!"
After a moment, Maya blinked. "Everyone ok?" Her voice came out shaky as she attempted to stand. Her eyes scanned the room. All of them were present. Accounted for, in varying conditions. Except for...
"Caleb?" Maya looked around in confusion.
Caleb lifted an arm, a few fingers poking up over the edge of the table. "Over here."
Maya and Jeremy leaned over to see the Jedi sprawled on his stomach, a chair atop his head and the shattered plate beside him. He moved and groaned in pain. "How did you...?" Maya sighed and got up.
Her intent had been to help him get up. It apparently was not needed. Caleb pushed himself off the floor. The chair tumbled away, prompting a contented sigh. "That hurt."
"What even was it?" Jeremy asked. He had tentatively taken a bite of his breakfast, only to drop his fork and back away with a distasteful look.
Caleb and Maya exchanged glances. It was obvious that whatever had happened had been in the Force. It felt off. Tainted. It was hard to access. All that was untainted was, just as in the case of Matthew and Sylvia, their love and the bond that had forged. Though of course the two had no way of knowing that their friends back on Earth shared the same circumstances. "I don't know." Maya's whisper was just loud enough for Caleb to hear.
"Shia! Shia!" Their thoughts were interrupted by Fal, who was attempting to revive his Padawan. The girl did not awaken at once. But eventually she did, sitting up and smiling groggily at her master. "Are you alright?"
She nodded. "I...I think so. I'm sorry."
"Don't be. I almost passed out as well."
The girl nodded, looking reassured. Fal handed her a glass of water and she took small sips.
Taria did the same, though in a much more gentle manner. Almost like a mother to a daughter. Eventually the older Padawan regained consciousness, though her skin was still paler than it was supposed to be.
"Caleb?" Jeremy prompted his brother. "What was it?"
He shrugged. "I don't know. Jeremy. Fal. One of you contact the Praxeum. Tell them what happened to us."
"Do you think Matthew will know what this is?" Ayrin asked. Her face had regained its color and she had disposed of the bag.
Jeremy shrugged and pointedly ignored Fal's irritated sigh. During their adventures over the course of the Mandalorian War, Matthew, Caleb, Sylvia, Maya, Jeremy, Ayrin and several other Jedi had formed a close-knit team. Though the strike unit had been dissolved following the resolution of the conflict and the reformation of both the Jedi Order and the Galactic Republic, Matthew still insisted those close friends address him by name rather than rank. "No idea," the young Master told her. "But even if he doesn't, he should be aware of our condition."
"The Grand Master cannot recall us to the Praxeum now. We are committed to the course," Fal reminded them politely.
Caleb nodded, conceding the point. "True. But he still needs to know."
Fal inclined his head in a gesture of agreement. Before he could say anything, however, the door hissed open. Captain Yates strode in. Her uniform was crisp and clean. The epitome of military precision. Her eyes blazed and her rank epaulettes seemed to shine.
"Captain." Caleb inclined his head respectfully. "May we help you?"
The woman's eyes snapped onto his. She had been surveying the fallen chair, the broken plate. Her nose wrinkled at the faint smell of vomit. "I don't want to know what has been going on in here." She held up a hand to prevent Ayrin or Jeremy, who had both opened their mouths, from answering. "But I have news."
"What has happened?" Caleb asked softly.
"We've lost all contact with Antares. Something appears to be blocking their communications."
Each Jedi exchanged subtle glances full of worry. One lone ship was not enough to disrupt the transmissions of a colony that size. Perhaps a storm had temporarily disabled the antenna. But Caleb didn't like it. And judging from his wife's Force aura and the expression on Jeremy's face, they didn't like it either. It was too much of a coincidence.
"Do you require us on the bridge?" Jeremy asked as urgently as he dared.
Yates nodded. "One will be enough. The rest of you, I'd suggest preparing yourself for a fight. I don't like this at all. We're several days away from Antares at most. But I like to be prepared." It was a quality Caleb could not help but admire. Her calm demeanor. The way she casually integrated the Jedi into her crew, treated them with the same respect she gave to her first officer. Or the other captains in her squadron.
"Ayrin, please accompany Captain Yates to the bridge," Caleb told the younger Knight. "The rest of us, to the cargo bay."
"Cargo bay?" Yates tilted her head. "Why?"
Caleb strode past her, a mysterious smile on his face. "To practice, Captain." Then he was gone. His robes billowed after him and the door hissed shut.
As anticipated, Sylvia was waiting for him. She sat on a rock overlooking a pond. Water from fountains suspended in the air with the Force rained into the pond, causing ripples and mist. Rivers and streams all branched out from the pond, flowing forth to meet with other, smaller ponds and fountains. The most peaceful place in the galaxy. The flow of the water was almost enough to lull one to sleep. Its surfaces were said to reflect more than the mere physical. Ripples emanated from the melding of fountains and ponds, disrupting those reflections, making it hard to see the physical. But that did not matter. A Jedi did not see with just his or her eyes. A true Jedi saw with the Force as well, looked past the ripples to see what was beneath the cold waves.
She looked up and saw him. Without saying a word, he could tell she had what he had asked for. His heart leapt. He would have answers. With a heart of gratitude, he smiled at her.
Matthew quickened his pace, reaching her and sitting beside her. "Hello love. Fancy meeting you here." He smiled at her exasperated expression. "I'm teasing."
"Is this really the time?"
Matthew shrugged. She had a point. But sometimes he could not resist the urge to annoy her. "Well, let's get on with it then." He sat upon the soft stone, his body melding with the rock, melding with the peace of the Force. He crossed his legs. Sylvia set the Holocrons in front of him and turned so her body was facing him, sitting across from him, her back to the water, her eyes closed. She could not access the Holocrons, Only Matthew could. The Force swirled around him and through him. Sylvia watched in the Force, feeling what he felt, a beacon of love and strength.
He placed a hand above the two small objects in front of his knees. He could feel the power of the Holocrons, two beacons in the current of power building. So small, yet powerful. An object few could comprehend.
But Matthew did not need to comprehend. Not now. He needed access. He needed answers. Open. The will of the Jedi, the Grand Master, flowed through his fingertips, becoming a calm command to the Holocrons. Open. He did not notice that he had spoken aloud. A tiny figure clad in Jedi robes appeared before him, generated from the matrix powering the Holocron. A simple-looking device to match the Jedi who had created it. Another figure appeared. This was a tad more resplendent, an echo of the prosperity of the Terran Empire that had ruled in ages long past.
"We have come." The voice of the first figure to appear was calm. His hands were folded in front of him, eyes staring up into Matthew's.
"Masters," the newest Grand Master said, inclining his head respectfully. It felt surreal. Being in the presence of two long-gone Jedi who had guided the Order through crises that had been consigned to the history books, yet had chosen to leave a part of themselves behind to guide future generations. It was enough to make him want to pay a visit to the history section of the Archives as soon as he was done. "I thank you for appearing."
"It is custom," the figure of the second Holocron replied. "We come when the reigning Grand Master requires our help. What do you require?"
Matthew paused to give himself time to think. He knew what his crisis was. What he needed. But why these two Holocrons? Master Zym Ductavis, the first ever Grand Master. Appointed over two thousand years ago when the Jedi had joined forces with the Earth Colonies. The other, dressed in more elegant robes, Luke Coven, had been the reigning Grand Master during what was undoubtedly the worst period in the history of the galaxy.
Realizing the two holographic images were expecting an answer and were staring at him expectantly, he suppressed a blush and a feeling of embarrassment. "Masters, the Order has experienced a turmoil the likes of which I have never seen."
Ductavis seemed to suppress a sigh and even exchanged a look with Coven. "Many say this. Especially those new to the responsibilities of leading the Jedi." Shock temporarily disrupted Matthew's line of thought, his focus on the waiting answer. Despite his vast knowledge of the Force and of how Holocrons functioned, it still managed to amaze him how powerful the mere essences could be. How aware they were. Ductavis continued. "The problem you face. Describe it, if you would, Master Jedi."
"All our Younglings, and possibly a multitude of Padawans are in a coma. A coma caused by a change in the Force." If the Holocrons had been truly sentient, Matthew was certain that he would have felt shock boiling off them in the Force. Instead, he felt a shift in the signatures that could possibly be translated as surprise. In front of him, he knew Sylvia was suppressing the images of their children, sound asleep in the Medical Center. He did as well. When control over the feelings had been established, Matthew continued. "Something has tainted the Force..."
"Something dark..." Coven's stern voice cut across his. "Then your problem is greater than we had initially suspected."
"You suspected?" Sylvia murmured.
The miniature apparition that was the long-dead Grand Master turned, meeting Sylvia's eye with an amused smile. "Yes, Master White. Our Holocrons never truly deactivate. We sensed a problem boiling within you the moment you picked up our vessels and carried us here."
Ductavis snorted. "Since when do Jedi marry?"
Matthew could not suppress a reproachful glare. "With respect, times do change. If Jedi can pass certain, ah, tests, then there is little problem with uniting in marriage. In becoming one."
The First Grand Master rolled his eyes. His tone was disdainful. "A true Jedi does not seek possession. Or attachment. Only compassion."
Coven gave Sylvia a long, appraising look. "No, Master. They are a perfect fit. A match made by the Force. They will play a pivotal role in the coming conflict and their love will be essential to see them through." Could Holocrons have the power to see into the future?
Matthew and Sylvia both blushed, both feeling like teenagers who had just begun dating and were being tested by their parents to determine if their relationship was healthy. Coven seemed to sense this, for he smirked and returned his gaze back to Matthew. "Now, Master, allow me to shed some light on the questions burning in your young mind."
The present Grand Master internally bristled. He was NOT young. Well, ok, he wasn't that old. But nor was he so young either. Whatever. He stifled his irritation and maintained his calm Jedi demeanor. "Thank you. What must I do to awaken our Younglings? They are the future of the Jedi. I cannot simply stand by while they slumber for who knows how long." His tone had lost some of its calm and a note of panic had entered. In the Force, his aura crackled with energy, suppressed by decades of training but still present. A boiling storm beneath the surface.
Each of the miniature projections took a long moment to consider their reply. Matthew and Sylvia both wondered what they would have sensed if they had been alive. The thought of having two Grand Masters spring to life from the Holocrons was a very intriguing thought. What were the Jedi of old like? Many records of the past had been destroyed. What remained was fragmented. It saddened many Jedi, particularly Caleb to know. At times, Matthew wished it was possible to restore their knowledge of history.
With the Holocrons in his grasp however, he had that chance. The Grand Masters would undoubtedly know much. Not just of Jedi history, but of the history of the old Terran Empire, the Orion Alliance and much more.
"A darkness has been unleashed upon the Force. A darkness of such power that I think you do not fully comprehend what you face." It was Coven who spoke. Ductavis looked at him impassively. If he had been sentient, Matthew had no doubt he would have sensed curiosity and confusion underneath his calm exterior. It was after all, what blazed beneath the surface, pushing the fear and worry to the side and taking precedence. It was in Sylvia's Force aura as well.
"What problem do I face?"
"Darkness capable of this has not been seen or sensed since the time of the Hundred Years of Darkness."
Air left his lungs in a whoosh. His blood ran cold. Shock pulsed through him, freezing him, paralyzing. He could not look up to meet his wife's eye. His body would not do as he commanded. Move. Look up. Do something other than sit here like an idiot. Shaking fingers brushed the lightsaber by his side. The cutlass-styled hilt he had designed during the war. A blue crystal powered its blade. That same crystal seemed to revitalize his functions, give him some form of strength to look up.
Sylvia's face had drained of color. Her Force aura went through a various cycle of emotions. Surprise. Shock. Fear. Horror. He reached for her, touching her mind with the Force, letting her love wash over him and his love do the same for her. In the back of his mind, Matthew hoped that the Holocrons could not sense what flowed between them.
When he had recovered control of his voice, the younger Master spoke. "The Hundred Years of Darkness was a time when great peril tore the galaxy apart. Dark Siders created chaos and came very near to destroying the Force itself as we know it."
"And what were those Dark Siders called?"
It was a simple word. So simple. Only four letters in the English language. But that one word took all of Matthew's will to say. "Sith."
Coven nodded.
"But the Sith have been extinct for a over a thousand years. Since before the beginnings of the Republic."
Coven shook his head. "And yet here you are. Confronted with a problem only a Sith Lord could have caused. Or possibly many."
"If the Sith have indeed returned, then the galaxy is in greater danger than we first thought."
Ductavis smiled sadly. "I may never have encountered the Sith, but I know many things of the Force. I believe I may be of some use to you, Master White."
Matthew fixed his attention on the first Grand Master. "How do I awaken our children?"
"Their minds seem to have shut down. Almost like a coma."
Instead of answering, Ductavis turned his piercing eyes onto Coven. "Master Coven. What effect does the Dark Side have on an individual? Could it be described, perhaps, as a form of mental trauma?"
Coven nodded slowly. "Jedi are often trained to resist external effects, changes in the currents of the Force. But Younglings, children who are not even fully fledged Jedi, are often vulnerable to shifts. They may be untrained, but in many ways this is precisely their downfall. They do not have the control and training of a master. They cannot ride the currents of the Force. And their minds become overwhelmed, retreating from the physical realm."
"And because of this darkness, this trauma," Ductavis said in a slow measured voice. "Their minds simply go to sleep."
"Like a deep trance," Matthew whispered.
"Precisely."
"Their minds are lost. Deep within themselves. In order to awaken them, you must help then find their way back to the surface."
Matthew leaned in, anticipation rising within him. An uncontrollable force that made his breathing pick up and his mind race a mile a minute. So close. "There are several healing techniques that come to mind. Techniques even I know."
Coven regarded him gravely. "Jedi healing techniques may work. But if you truly wish to succeed, you must do more." He held up a hand to stop the impatient living Jedi from speaking. "You must see the Light through the Darkness. And help the Younglings to do that as well."
It was not Matthew who spoke, but Sylvia. Her voice was filled with determination and her eyes blazed. "Then we will find a way to do just that."