"It's easy to hate. It's easy to blame others for your problems. I fall into that trap too easily myself. But in the end, you can find heroes and villains on any side of a conflict. There are men in the Empire who truly believe they're making the galaxy a safer place for everyone. There are Jedi who protect weak and love selflessly, with all their hearts. And, well, your brothers would be the first to tell you that there are some true chakaarewearing Mando armor."
She'd never laid eyes on it before, but the sight of Belsavis filled Callista Masana with a strange nostalgia. The world in front of her had very little in common with her homeworld. Chad had been covered in salty blue oceans while Belsavis was white with snow; humans on her world had lived in scattered sunny islands, while here they lived instead in scattered valleys and canyons carved by the movement of tectonic plates and warmed by the heat of the ice world's active core.
Perhaps that was the key to it; another world unfriendly to large-scale habitation, where sentients had to eke out life wherever they could and would never be able to subject it to wholesale technological conquest and bury every inch of it under duracrete and steel like Coruscant, Metellos, or Nar Shadaa. It was a world where a being had no choice but to subject herself to nature, surrender her ego, and learn to live by its own rules. In learning the will of nature, a being learned the will of the Force as well; at least, that was what Master Altis had taught her.
So in one sense, at least, Belsavis and Chad were very much alike.
"Hey, Callie," a hand fell on her shoulder and shook her lightly from her reverie, "Are you ready to transmit the code?"
She looked up at Geith Eris, took in his familiar face: broad cheekbones, dark eyes, pale skin, all framed by a rust-red beard. Through the Force she could feel his earnest concern for her as well. He'd sensed that some-thing had disturbed her, and Geith, being Geith, wanted to fix a problem whenever he saw it. It was something that could be very aggravating about him, especially since she couldn't hide her emotions from a fellow Jedi, but it was also why she loved him. He never stopped caring.
"I'm all right," she assured him and turned her attention to the communications console. "Let's see if anyone's listening."
"I hope so." Geith sat down in the copilot's seat beside her and leaned forward anxiously to stare at the white sphere ahead of them.
"They'll be there," Callista did her best to project confidence through the Force.
"You heard what Skirata told Djinn. I also just checked the HoloNet. Imps are saying they've just destroyed a secret Jedi outpost at Arkinnea."
Callista felt her throat go dry. "Could just be propaganda. That's all the 'Net is nowadays. I've never heard of Arkinnea, have you?"
"No, but I never heard of Belsavis until a few days ago."
"Have a little faith," she muttered and punched the encryption code into the communications array.
Geith went silent, but she could still feel his anxiety. For years he'd complained about the Jedi Order, about its strictures and rules, about the way it attached itself to the Republic's hip and made itself into a tool of a corrupt state. Then the Republic had become an Empire and the Jedi a hunted people, and suddenly Geith had found fraternity with a group he'd previously despised. Every day he scoured the HoloNet and whatever encrypted systems Master Altis had the codes for, trying to scrounge up some information about any surviving Jedi.
It was ironic that it had been someone from Belsavis who'd contacted them. Callista just hoped she was still around.
She fired up the communications array, set it to the assigned frequency, and said, "This is Wookiee Gunner requesting entry. Repeat, this is Wookiee Gunner. Please respond."
She waited. Geith's right leg twitched anxiously up and down.
Then a voice, female, marred by static, said: "How was your flight, Wookiee Gunner?"
She thought she recognized the voice, but she had to be sure. "Not bad. We just came from high tea with the Senex Lords."
There was a slight pause. Then the voice said, "Did they give you sugar?"
"Nope, just honey." Callista smiled as she completed the code-phrase.
She could hear her relief echoed in Margolis' voice. "Is that you, Callie?"
"It's been a long time. It's good to hear from you."
"It's good to hear from anyone nowadays. I'll give you the coordinates now."
"Thanks. We'll see you soon," Callista said, and killed the comlink. She looked at her nav computer and saw ground control's location pop up. She set the course then looked at Geith, still clinging to the arms of his chair. At least his leg had stopped twitching.
"See? Nothing to worry about."
"I'm glad." His voice was brittle.
Callista fought a smirk as their freighter dove into the ice world's atmosphere. Upper-level wind currents buffeted their ship and knocked them about in their crash webbing, but it only lasted for a minute before their inertial compensator adjusted and the flight became smooth again.
"Are we finally there?" a voice chimed from behind him.
"It's getting bumpy!" said another child.
Callista and Geith looked behind them to see two small black-haired children crowded in the cockpit entrance. Roganda and Lagan Ismaren were five and six years old, respectively, both energetic and handsome like their mother had been. Istar had died holding back a flight of Imperial pursuit vessels chasing down Master Altis's Chu'unthor, and the sight of her children always made Callista'a heart sink.
The siblings hid the pain of loss well. Lagan, always the more confident one, shouldered past his sister and hopped into the passenger seat behind Geith.
"Well, is this it?" he said, "Is this Belsavis?"
"That it is," Geith favored the boy with a smile; he was good with children, better than Callista.
"Is this really going to be our new home?" Roganda asked, still lingering in the doorway.
"Well, you're going to check it out and see how you like it. Then we'll decide," Geith said. "Come on, Roganda, take a seat behind Callie."
The girl nodded and hopped into the chair. Callista was grateful to turn her attention away from Istar's children and back to Wookiee Gunner's controls.
The world rising up to meet them was a massive sprawl of ice. A few low ridges trailed blue shadows but for the most part the world seemed as blank as a painter's unused canvas. Callista was reminded of Chad again; it had felt soothing to fly over so much featureless ocean, and it felt much the same as the endless snowfields rolled beneath them.
"There," Geith called, stabbing a finger at the horizon.
"I see it!" cried Lagan.
Callista saw it too. There was a ridge of mountains higher than the others they'd seen. A few white peaks stabbed upward into drifts of low clouds. Callista pulled the freighter up slightly so they skimmed over the tops of the ridges. Once they climbed the white walls everything changed. Snow melted away to reveal steep cliffs and broad slopes of bare rock, smooth and black and volcanic. Obsidian chasms fell toward the planet's distant core, creating vents for thermal energy to rise and in turn for life to survive in scattered islands.
As they dropped into the valley everything changed. Winds buffeted their shuttle and Callista struggled to keep from being thrown into a wall of volcanic rock. Roganda let out a sharp yelp as an air gust nearly wrenched them into the side of a canyon before Callista got control back. The outside temperature shot up and they were suddenly surrounded by life: trees shot up from rich soil and spread out fat palm fronds. Vines and creepers formed green webs over black stone, and beautiful flowers added punctuations of red and gold.
Their sensors spotted artificial structures within one of the valleys, protected from storms by a broad transpari-steel dome. One squat tower, some four storeys high, rose from a walled compound, and just beyond the edge of the dome was a small landing pad just big enough for a single shuttle or freighter. As she maneuvered Wookiee Gunner onto the platform, Callista felt a spike of surprising disap-pointment. This settlement looked positively tiny, and certainly couldn't fit what they needed. At the same time, she knew its small size was probably what had kept it safe from the Empire's prying eyes.
One look at the sensors told them they wouldn't need jackets outside. Callista and Geith took a moment to gather their bags while Roganda and Ismaren trotted down to the cargo hold. When everyone was ready, they lowered the landing ramp, and walked out onto the platform.
The atmosphere inside the valley had a strange quality; it was warm and windy but also humid. It smelled like jungles Callista had visited in the past, full of decay and growing things all mixed together, but beneath that was a whiff of brimstone from deep within the planet. High above the dome, drier cooler air howled through crevasses and around eroded peaks of jagged rock, creating a harrowing background scream behind the hiss of Gunner's cooling engines. The collision of cold air from above and cool from below had to create plentiful thunderstorms: good for the enclosed jungle biome but bad for beings trying to land ships inside. Wookiee Gunner had lucky timing.
Callista took her attention off the air and focused on the woman in front of her. Margolis Ming was as tall, blonde, and lovely as she remembered, and she wrapped the other woman in a firm hug before Margolis stepped back an exchanged a more formal handshake with Geith.
"It's good to see both of you again," Margolis smiled. "I'm so glad you're still all right."
"We could say the same." Geith put his hands on his hips. "You remember Lagan and Roganda, don't you?"
Margolis's eyes went wide when she saw the children. "Oh, goodness! I barely recognized you, you've grown so much."
Lagan puffed his chest out and looked proud, but Roganda frowned. "Did you use to be on Master Altis's ship?"
"That's right. I knew your mother," Margolis smiled a little sadly.
"You've been here, what, three years?" Geith asked.
"It's been almost four, actually." She didn't have to say it was right after the war started. Margolis, unsure of her Force abilities but definitely not a soldier, had left Chu'unthor for a more peaceful life, and Callista didn't begrudge her that.
"Master Altis is all right," Geith told her; she already knew about Istar. "So's Ash."
"I'm glad. I hope I get to see them soon." Margolis gestured to the high durasteel gate behind her. "Come in. I'm sure Master Plett would like to meet you."
The gate swung open without Margolis having to ask. As Callista and Geith followed her into the compound, they were greeted by a garden of lush plants, green and blue and red, some local and others transplanted from different planets from across the galaxy and made to grow in the black volcanic soil of Belsavis's rift valleys.
A pair of beings stood behind the gate's hinged doors, their hands on the huge metal handles they'd used the drag them over. Each was a head taller than even Geith. They had gray-blue skin and long arms that dangled all the way to their knees.
"There are Kos and Jebu," Margolis gave them little bows, which they returned. "The Mluki are the native sentients of this planet. They've helped Master Plett in his research for decades."
"I'm surprised a planet with this kind of ecosystem evolved intelligent life," Geith said.
"The planet wasn't always this cold. We believe they evolved on the plains first, then took shelter in the rift valleys when temperatures started to plunge. There's been remarkable divergent evolution between populations in different valleys, much like the plants and fungi that grow here. From a biological perspective the whole thing is fascinating. But come, you can ask Master Plett about all that. He's the expert."
As they walked to the base of the tower, Callista noticed something scampering between a patch of palm fronds and a shock of red-petalled flowers as tall as she was. She stopped and looked closer to see a small human boy peeking shyly out from between thick stalks.
A tall female Ho'din suddenly appeared behind the boy. He looked like he was going to jump and run but she planted green four-fingered hands on his shoulders; he squirmed awkwardly in her grip.
"That's Nichos," Margolis smiled and waved at the boy. "And this is Ustu, one of the other caretakers."
"It is a pleasure to meet you," the Ho'din bowed her long neck. "I see you've brought us some more guests."
"These are Roganda and Lagan," Geith looked at the children. "Would you two like to say hello to Nichos?"
Lagan gave a friendly wave; Roganda seemed to blush a little.
"I can show the children around if you'd like," Ustu said.
"We'd appreciate that," said Callista. "We have to have a talk with Master Plett. Lagan, Roganda, how about you spent some time with Ustu and Nichos?"
"There are plenty of other children here for you to meet," Ustu said.
Roganda glanced at Lagan, like she was waiting for direction. Her brother gave a nod and led her over to Nichos and Ustu. The other boy looked at the newcomers warily but didn't try to run again.
"We'll trust them to your care," said Geith.
"Don't worry, Ustu is wonderful with children," Margolis said. "Lagan, Roganda, make some new friends, okay?"
Lagan nodded bravely as Margolis led Geith and Callista away, down another leafy garden path.
"Is he from the Temple on Coruscant?" Callista asked.
Margolis nodded. "There was a ship-full of younglings off-planet during... the attack. Master Plett brought them here. We already had a few other orphans he'd picked up, non-Force-sensitives."
"How many younglings from the Temple?" Geith asked. A year ago he'd spoken of those children, taken from their families as babies and raised among strangers, with pity and a touch of scorn, but now he just sounded curious.
"We have fifteen," Margolis said. She clearly had a question for them but left it unasked. Instead she led them into the base of the tower.
The building was simple, almost primitive. It was built from wood and stone, and the door swung open on simple hinges. Inside there were no fancy holo-emitters or computers. Potted plants hung from the ceiling and basked in the blue-white light of glow-globes tuned to mimic the sunlight of foreign worlds. Standing amidst his plants was a reedy green-skinned Ho'din, probably two heads taller than even Geith. The stalks on his head had gone white and he looked down at them with large black eyes and a patient smile on his lipless mouth.
"Welcome to Belsavis," the Ho'din said. "I am Master So Plett."
"It is an honor, Master," Geith gave a slight bow, and Callista followed his lead. "My name is Geith Eris, and this is Callista Masana. We are apprenticed to Master Djinn Altis."
The old Jedi waved one green hand. "There's no need for formalities. I know Djinn didn't teach them to you. It is simply good to see new faces. We do not have many of those here."
"We understood that's how you like it, Master Plett," Geith straightened.
He bobbed his head in a nod. "I have been here for almost seventy years. Studying, experimenting. Tending to my garden." His mouth flexed into a smile again. "I did not wish to be drawn into the drama of the galaxy outside, but in times like these a being has to do anything he can to help those in need. And there as so many poor beings in need right now, so I try to do what I can."
He reminded Callista of Master Altis already. She said, "I understand you're already sheltering a number of younglings from the Jedi Temple."
"Young Margolis has been very good with them, better than an old man like me," the Ho'din gestured to the human woman, who almost blushed at the compliment.
"It was very brave of you, Master Plett," Geith said. "You took a lot of risk, bringing Jedi here when the Empire is hunting for them."
"I am a Jedi as well, as are you. The Empire hunts for us all. Thankfully, it is a large galaxy, and there are many places to hide."
"It's also a big Empire, and they've found hiding places already," Geith said gravely. "That's why Master Altis keeps us moving."
"Ah, yes, that ship of his. He calls it Chu'unthor, doesn't he, after the ancient academy vessel?"
"That's right," Callista said. "Do you know him well?"
"Djinn was the one who recommended I seek out Master Plett," Margolis said. "He said it would help me find a quieter, simpler life."
"I did what I could, while I could," Plett said.
The Ho'din's flat green face lacked the expressiveness of a human's, but Callista could feel his regret and humility in the Force. It seemed to be something universal among Force-users nowadays.
Plett jerked abruptly, like he was shaking off a gloomy burden, and said, "What manner of help does Djinn need right now?"
Geith cleared his throat; this was what they'd come for. "As you probably know, Jedi who follow Master Altis live differently than those in the Temple. We train later, marry, and have families." He paused, like he was waiting for a censure, but got none. "We have about a dozen children in our party. Some are children of the Jedi, some not."
"Yes, I could feel two of them with you when you arrived."
"We didn't mean to intrude, Master Plett, but we wanted the children to explore your settlement themselves and decide if this would be good for them."
"And you would like to add more to my orphanage?"
"They're not orphans, not all of them," Callista said. "But it's very dangerous right now. The Empire hasn't found us yet but we've had some close calls, and we've lost good people already. Master Altis feels that it would be better if we hide the children somewhere safe."
Plett nodded. "Tell me, are any of these children yours?"
Callista and Geith looked at each other in shock. The old Ho'din chuckled and said, "Just because I've lived alone for so long does not mean I can't read people. Especially other Jedi."
"We don't have any children," Geith said simply. They had talked about it, very tentatively, during the short weeks when it seemed like the war was burning itself out in the Outer Rim and hope made a brief return to their lives.
"I understand everything," Plett said, and Callista didn't doubt that. "I must give Djinn credit. He's made an offer no being of good conscience can refuse."
"Then you'll shelter the children?"
"And any others who wish to come here."
Geith looked uncharacteristically uncomfortable. "Master Plett, we also came to warn you. Some of Master Altis's sources indicate that the Empire is looking for you, specifically."
"And how is that?" the Ho'din's flat face betrayed no anxiety, but Callista couldn't read anything in the Force either.
"We've been told the Empire is looking for a place called 'Plett's Well.' We assumed it had something to do with you."
Plett didn't say anything. Margolis asked, "Where did you hear about that?"
"We have many contacts," Callista said simply. How those contacts, a gruff Mandalorian training sergeant and his family of clone deserters, learned of it, she didn't know and didn't want to.
"Master Plett, this isn't good," Margolis frowned.
But the Ho'din shook his head. "They must have heard something about the younglings we've already sheltered. But they do not know our location, do they?"
"We don't think so, Master," Callista said, "But they're clearly looking. If you'd like, we can transport you and the children to a new location entirely, somewhere better defended."
Geith said, "If you want to relocate to Chu'unthor until we find you a better hiding place, that is an option."
Plett shook his head again. "That has always been a fear of danger for us, but I am old. I don't fear death as I used to."
"You have many young beings in your care," Callista pointed out. "Don't you fear for them?"
"Of course I do. Believe me, we take proper precautions. There is much more to this place than there seems at first glance."
"We're not helpless," Margolis added. "We have several Y-wings and a blastboat in cave hangars, and this location is very hard to find and very easy to defend."
"Y-wings?" Callista had to admit she was impressed. "They must be well hidden."
"I was wondering about that," Geith said. "You said you have about twenty people here already, and now you're willing to take at least a dozen more. There doesn't seem enough room for them all."
Plett chuckled and, to their surprise, Margolis did too. The woman smiled and said, "This isn't our home, Geith. This is the doorway."
Callista frowned. "We don't understand."
Plett walked over to the farthest wall and pressed a green hand against the brick. A section of the wall, as large as a doorframe but camouflaged against black rock, slid back to reveal a stairwell curving downward into a black-bottomed shaft.
"Margolis, would you like you give your friends a tour?" the Ho'din asked.
"Gladly." The blonde woman picked up a glow-lamp and switched it on. "Come on. I can show you everything. We call it Plett's Well."