Chapter 1-

Trouble- "Get here Mal! We only have a set amount of time you know!" Eight-year-old Reven Ferro called out to his best friend.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, I'm coming." Malak Simron replied with a sigh, closing the door of their shared dorm.

"The masters also want us to check up on a family for them." Reven raised his fair eyebrows at his friend's news.

"What kind of a family would live out there? Do you know what they do?" He asked as he fell into step with Malak, who drew his cloak around his body.

"The man is a healer, his wife works with herbs, and their both 30. They have two sons, ones twelve the others thirteen, and there is a youngling as well. The masters want to know if its force sensitive. Healthy is also on the list." Reven shook his head in wonder.

"Alright, but I hope it will not take to long." Malak smiled at his friend's indignation.

"It is on our way. That is why we were asked to see them. There is a tribal war going on and the fiercer side would kill them even if they are the ones that stop them from dieing. The healers help all tribes and those that have become lost. If they die, all the tribes could go to war, instead of just the two that are fighting now. If something did to happen to them, the Jedi would have to bring the peace. And let's face it; we have to look out for our own."

Both boys' jumped over a fallen log, as the trees in the distance loomed closer.

"Now, I see what you mean Mal."

They stoped near the edge of the trees and looked around.

"So which way should we go after we see them?" Malak asked his friend.

"I'm thinking over that way. We have not been that way yet. It looks promising." Malak looked also, to where Reven pointed.

"So it shall be." Malak agreed, wiggling his eyebrows. Reven laughed, just as Malak knew he would. Malak joined his friend's laughter as they went to rest of the way. Both boy's stopped when the familiar smell of smoke assaulted their noses. They looked at each other. Malak nodded sharply, turned around again, and sped away. Reven took a deep breath then went through the trees to the smoke. The house smouldered gently; the only untouched area was the flourishing herb garden a few meters away. Half way between the garden and the building was a bundle of cloth. Reven moved slowly closer to it, feeling a dwindling life force within. As he crouched down next to it, the person hidden in it lifted their head.

"Ah, so the masters felt that something was wrong." The woman said weakly, looking up at Reven. 'And yet, they are too late. I am sorry that one a young such as you came so far to see us. My husband and sons are dead, and only my daughter will live." Reven felt a lump rise in his throat.

"They sent us to check up on you. My friend has gone back to get help." The woman smiled gently.

"Please take my daughter with you. She is only 3 years old." She whispered, moving the cloak away from a smaller, sleeping, form. Reven reached out, and took it from her arms.

"D-does she have a name?" He asked tentatively, folding his own cloak around the golden haired child.

"Her name is Demetra. Demetra Koor." The woman lay down and closed her eyes. "I am sorry."

Simone Koor whispered, and breathed no more. Reven sat there for some time, paying no awareness to the masters, who had finally arrived. It was only when Malak put a hand on his shoulder, did he react.

"She's gone mate. Stand up." Reven looked up at his friend's anxious face. He smiled in reassuringly and stood up. Several of the masters moved to the body, while others surveyed the damage to the remains of the dwelling.

"It is such a waste." One of them sighed sadly.

"Now there is no stopping what could happen." Zhar replied.

"Such nice people. Now there is not a soul left." Someone else replied sadly.

"Not exactly." Reven interrupted softly. Everyone turned to look at him. He shifted his cloak to expose the sleeping child. The masters looked at each other.

"How?" One of the females breathed softly. "She was here with her mother. She was alive just before you got here. She asked me to take Demetra."

"Demetra." The Twi'lek master repeated.

"Demetra Koor." Zhar established. "How old is she?" Another master asked abruptly. "She is 3." Reven replied softly.

"She is beautiful." The Twi'lek spoke again. She gave a glance at the other masters, while running a pale chalk skinned finger along the child's soft cheek. The small girl giggled and opened her slanted eyes. A sudden hush seemed to fall over those in attendance. "I think we should get her back to the enclave. Zhar commented quietly, the other murmuring in agreement. Demetra looked up at Reven, her head tipped to the side, and her lithe hands clasped in front of her. Reven shared a look with Malak. "Lets get you home." The boys turned and followed the masters.