Tor wrenched his rocket launcher out of the fish's skull. This was the third fish to attack him as he made his way along a river to the temple. Much like the others, it was about as big as a Nexu, with two clawed front legs to drag itself around on land, and had almost as much teeth as Tor himself, only theirs were small and thin like needles. He was tempted to try and eat the fish, but he didn't know if it was poisonous, and he a job to do.

The trees were tightly packed together the further Tor went down the river. He glanced at the water; more of those strange fish stared back at him, hunger shining in their beady bulging eyes. With a heavy feeling in his stomach, Tor began to climb the closest tree. He couldn't see if there was anything waiting up there, but with that pack of fish in the water, he didn't have much choice.

He nearly slipped more than once, but not long later, he arrived at the edge of a small lake. In different positions all around the lake, were three crumbling bridges that connected the shore to the temple at the lake's center. The temple itself was one of the strangest Tor had seen, it was built like a bridge itself, with its three segments forming an open archway.

As Tor climbed down, he looked for something to throw. His eyes fell on a decent sized rock on the shore. He picked it up and hurled it into the lake with a splash...nothing came to the surface to try and eat him. Still wary, he poked his head underwater. There was nothing but water and the filth coating the bottom. Tor lunged into the water and sped off towards the temple.

In no time at all, he reached the temple. At the center was a open space with a statue made of the strange black stone. It was in much better condition than the ones at the fort. Tor swam around it, taking in all of its details. It appeared to be wearing a cloak, had two arms with thick sharp claws, and a head of rising spikes or scales. Its reptilian face was curled in a mocking look of murderous superiority. Tor couldn't help but chuckle. On the surface, it might have looked intimidating, but here, underwater and coated in muck, its attempt at looking threatening fell short.

He took out the fang to see if there was anywhere he could put it, and gave a start when saw that it was rapidly pulsing with light. As he swam towards the bottom of the statue, the fang almost became a steady stream of light. He saw a faint symbol of the same fish he saw earlier on the statue's back, with a hole in its center. Relief and success flooded him. He had been worried that he'd have to fight off an entire shoal of those fish. He was glad of being wrong for a change. With an improved mood, Tor swam to the statue, and inserted the fang.

It was as if the water in the lake had been replaced with light, and for a moment, Tor was under the impression he was floating in a blinding white void. He closed his eyes until it seemed the burning light had disappeared. As his vision returned, he gasped as realized where he was.

He was back on Karkaris, in the main temple of the Brotherhood. In order to make it accessible for all who wanted to join the Order, no matter what their species, they had built it on land, but in the ceiling, there were sizable clear pipes with water for Karkarodons to swim through. Various tapestries depicting moments in the Order's history were proudly hung on the walls, and in front of one of them talking to a group of visitors, was the Headmaster, Isurus Byron, with a young Tor by his side.

"And here," exclaimed Isurus, as the short (for his kind) Karkarodon waved at the tapestry, "is a depiction of the Brotherhood creating the first Temple of History, where the Jedi Order allowed us to display certain historical items relating to the Sacred Tide to the public. And to think," he added, as he swelled with pride, "it's been nearly a thousand years since then, and the temple is still standing, with one of the greatest collections of artifacts in the galaxy!"

The visitors politely applauded the Headmaster, as did young Tor, though with more enthusiasm. The actual Tor chuckled embarrassedly; he always was eager to prove himself a devoted member of the Order. "Do the Jedi still come here?" asked one visitor. "I've never even seen one."

"They used to," replied Isurus with a sigh. "But they haven't come here for some time now, these days they've been busy keeping the peace. Though I am proud to say that we still get other important visitors. Chancellor Palpatine himself came to visit during his first year in office."

That got the attention of all the visitors, but before they could pester Isurus with questions, he said, "I'll tell you more later, but for now, let us head to the Great Hall for lunch. I could show every artifact and tapestry in here and the Temple of History, but I still need to eat like everyone else."

As they walked towards the Great Hall, young Tor asked the Headmaster, "Do you think the Jedi will ever come back here?"

Isurus clapped Tor on the back. "Maybe, but remember Tor Nitros, they have the weight of an entire galaxy on their shoulders. If they have to defend peace and justice in favor of visiting an old collection of artifacts, then by the Sacred Tide, I hope they choose the former."

The searing light returned, forcing Tor to avert his gaze again. When he reopened his eyes, he saw that he was outside under a night sky, the main temple in the distance, and the Temple of History in front of him along the shore. The Brotherhood stood outside the Temple, mainly Karkarodons with several other various species, and they pleaded with the Stormtroopers who held them back at gunpoint. "Please!" begged Isurus. "We've already given in to your demands, but please, let us talk sense into our brothers and sisters!"

"You're lucky we don't shoot you now, fish," snapped one trooper.

And then that tall black figure strode up behind them. Even now, Tor could still feel the fear and hatred he felt towards that being that night. "I'm afraid it's too late for them," said Vader, his cape billowing around him in the night breeze. "They were fully aware of the consequences of trying to protect the last traces of the Jedi. And now, they will burn alongside them. Commander, are the flametroopers ready?"

The Commander nodded. "Good. Ensure that no one leaves the Temple."

"Lord Vader, please!" the headmaster sobbed, and he fell to his knees. "Have mercy on them! Many of them are still children, they don't know what they're doing!"

Those blank lifeless eyes stared down at the headmaster. "As Headmaster of the Brotherhood," said Vader softly, "you know should know full well: the Sith have no mercy. It is a delusion of the weak, as pretty and empty as a mirage in the desert."

He raised a hand. At once, flames broke the darkness, and the Temple started to be set ablaze. Tor's fellow brothers and sisters screams grew stronger; Tor could see his younger self among them, and he saw himself fall to his knees in grief, tears streaming down his face. The headmaster lunged at Vader, but the Sith Lord casually ignited a crimson blade, and took off his arm. The headmaster fell back screaming in pain and his fellow brothers and sisters caught him. As if in reply, more howls and screams of pain came out of the temple. "Be thankful the Emperor sees your continued existence to be beneficial," Vader continued, and put away his lightsaber. "Otherwise, I would have you join the fools burning in there. And remember: should your Clan find any other remnants of the Jedi, you will turn them over to the Empire, or I will make you beg me to repeat the events of tonight."

The headmaster glared at Vader with utter hatred, but then his eyes fell on the Temple, where the screams continued to get even louder, and he bowed his head in defeat. Vader turned to the Temple and watched it burn. Only when the screams in the Temple finally stopped, did he speak again. "Commander, escort the Brotherhood back to their homes, and then return here. Once it is done burning, we will wipe what's left of this blight from Karkaris." And then he turned and looked straight at the actual Tor himself. "How did it feel, Tor Nitros, to see the Force do nothing for your Order that night, as they burned with the artifacts they sought to protect?"

Tor stumbled and fell to the ground in shock. Vader walked towards him, and it seemed to Tor that the Sith grew in size with each step, his lightsaber back in hand, eventually igniting into an increasingly bigger and taller pillar of red light. Tor found it hard to breathe as Vader towered over him like a mountain. "Never forget," Vader boomed, "the Force was not with you that night. It was not with your crew when I cut down their loved ones. It was not with Zar when I took her away from him. And it will never be with you!"

The saber swung at him and Tor closed his eyes and let out a bestial roar of anger and fear. When he opened them again, he found he had floated up to the surface of the lake. Vader was gone, and the rain was falling harder than ever, battering Tor and the lake. Tor stayed there as the fear bled out of him and he began to breathe normally again as he shrugged off Vader's words. He didn't believe the Sith Lord. Despite Vader's taunts, he still believed in the Sacred Tide, and that despite what his foe thought, Tor knew that it was indeed with them.

Dendro panted heavily as his cannons finally stopped firing. He had stumbled across a breeding ground of Yucabras, and the jungle floor was now covered with them, as they twitched in their death throes. The ruined temple stood before him, what looked like the skeletons of two giant Yucabras laid across it. He was no archaeologist, but he guessed those two monsters were responsible for destroying the temple. He shuddered as he walked closer to the skeletons; he was really lucky those things were long dead, the swarm of Yucabras had been bad enough…

The Besalisk took out the fang in his pocket. It had been glowing before, and now that he was closer, it glowed in a faster pulse-like beat. As he walked next to what looked like a circular sigil in front of one of the temple's ruined doorways, the fang became a steady stream of light. Dendro darted towards the stone altar and looked around. In the middle of the sigil, was an outline of a Yucabra, with a round hole in its center. He heaved a massive sigh of relief. It looked like smooth sailing from here. With a big grin, he put the fang into the hole.

White light flared in his eyes so brightly, he thought he had gone blind. He stumbled around for a few moments, desperately trying to regain his grip on reality…then finally, his vision began to return. He could make out a sky filled with vehicles, towering skyscrapers, and countless people all around him…with a nasty jolt, Dendro realized he was back on Coruscant.

His whipped out his cannons, ready to take on the Imps that were undoubtedly coming for him…but then he noticed something. The people looked…well, not exactly happier, but at least they looked like they didn't have an Empire watching their every move. And then over the drone of so many different conversations being shared, one familiar voice caught his attention. "Come on, Dendro. We're already late, and you know how your father gets when the universe doesn't follow his schedule."

Dendro charged right through the sea of people towards the voice. In no time at all, he had found her…a female Besalisk, with her son right beside her. "Do you think he got his bonus?" a smaller younger Dendro asked his mother eagerly.

Heqa Argus sighed heavily and her eyes, the same brown ones Dendro had inherited from her, rose heavenward. "You've asked me that the whole way here, Dendro. Like I said, we'll have to wait and hear it from him once we—ah, there he is."

Auratus Argus took up an entire table at the outdoor café by himself. He looked exhausted, annoyed, and satisfied all at once. "We're going out to dinner tomorrow," he announced as they approached. "And we'll still have plenty of the bonus leftover."

Young Dendro and Heqa immediately began to plaster him with praise. Auratus shrugged it all off as he got up and embraced them tightly. "Please, I owe it all to you. Could never have made it without you." As he let them go to breathe again, he added, "Is Ranito with them again?"

"Yes," young Dendro answered, "they finally got the ship to fly!"

Auratus sighed almost as heavily as Heqa had. "Well, we better hurry back then. You know my parents; they're almost as good at fixing ships as they are at crashing them."

The light flashed once more and seared his eyes. The lustrous city of Coruscant was gone, replaced with one of Onderon's wild jungles…only the trees were currently burning. The Imperials had located the refugees Dendro's family had tagged along with, after they had been forced to flee the Empire, and had sent flametroopers and walkers to burn them out. The refugees that remained had taken up position behind what little cover was left, and fired back at the Imps. Dendro's younger self was older now, but he still cried like a child, as he cradled his dying mother in his arms.

"Don't talk like that!" young Dendro choked out. "I can still save you! The ship isn't far away!"

"It's too late for me," breathed Heqa, and she coughed up more blood. She shakily raised a hand to her chest, where several blaster shots had done their work. "Dendro, please…look after your brother and grandparents. You're the oldest, so…you have to be strong…promise me, Dendro…promise…"

And then she fell back, her brown eyes that had once been so full of love and patience, were now dull and lifeless. Dendro joined his younger self in mourning for her, as angry tears fell down his face. No matter how many times he remembered it, it still hurt as much as it did then. But he knew it was about to get worse…much worse.

"Dendro!" roared his father, as he fired his blaster cannon at an unseen target. "Take your mother and go! There's some new Imp, I can't stop—!"

Auratus began to choke and he dropped his cannon. There was a terrible crack and he fell to the ground. As if to mock his father, the breathing began to be heard even above the battle. Vader strode past Dendro's father as if he were an annoying pest he had swatted out of the way. The other refugees panicked and opened fire, but he blocked or dodged all of them. Dendro remembered how he thought he was done for that day, and then a sound drowned out the sounds of battle and Vader's breathing.

Dendro didn't know until afterwards, but his grandparents had stolen an Imperial patrol transport, and they flew straight at Vader. Young Dendro took one last look at his parents, then carefully laid his mother down, and fled to the ship, bitter tears pouring down his face all the while. The actual Dendro watched in horror as he looked at the scene for the second time. Vader batted the ship's bolts back at the guns, incinerating them instantly, and then used both hands to grip the ship with the Force. It trembled and groaned as if it knew what was about to happen. He could see his grandparents through the cockpit window, as they desperately tried to increase power to the ship's engines. Too late they tried firing the ship's torpedoes. Another twist of Vader's hands and the firing ports were crushed together. They brought out their rifles, ready to shoot Vader through the cockpit window if that was what it took. But once again, Vader was a step ahead, and tilted his hands. The ship raised slightly upwards so the front was now pointing at the heavens. Dendro wanted to look away, but he couldn't bring himself to, it felt like abandoning his family all over again.

Vader calmly continued to shift the ship around until he could see the engines, and then he arched his fingers at them, as if they were the throat of one of his countless victims. With a terrifying screech of torn metal and increased pitch, Vader began to crush the engines, until they finally exploded. And then, Vader finally brought the ship crashing to the surface like a meteor, and Dendro screamed as he watched his grandparents die. The ship exploded in a massive fireball, shrapnel flew in all directions, and the shockwaves from the explosion blew Vader's cape behind him, but the monster calmly stood there like this was a common occurrence.

And then he turned around, the eyes of that skull-like mask fixed on Dendro's. "Yes," he hissed, genuine approval tinting his voice. "Your hatred is strong. Let it grow, Dendro Argus." He slowly walked to Dendro, who was rooted to the spot in fear and rage. "Let it feed on your soul. Nurture it. Embrace it. Surrender to it. And perhaps you will see a glimpse of the power of the Dark Side. If only the Force were with you...you would have made an impressive Sith."

Dendro fell to his knees, his eyes locked onto Vader's. They seemed to get bigger, until Dendro was drowning in a red abyss. He already felt his grief and loathing eating him up inside like a cancer. Vader's words made it even worse. He fell forward, his hands on the ground, and it felt like white hot steel. But the more he began to do as Vader said, the more he felt the pain slip away...it felt so good letting his emotions take him away.

And then he looked to the side and saw his mother not far away, her blank eyes piercing his.

The pain rushed back to him and Dendro screamed his defiance at Vader...only to see that his most hated enemy was gone, and that his only company were the temple ruins and jungle.

The Besalisk continued to kneel there for a long time, welcoming the relief the rain brought as it battered him. It felt good being back in reality. With a massive groan, Dendro got to his feet, and he thought to himself that after this nightmare, he'd never set foot on this rotten planet again.

Zar tried his comm again for what must have been the fifth time. "No response," he seethed. He drew his rifle and made for the stairs. "I'm going to go looking for them, something's wrong."

"Easy, Zar," Luke told him. "They have an entire valley to search, plus, they might be trying to avoid some of those animals right now—"

"You know, for a Jedi in training," Zar noted irritably, "you haven't gotten to a good start on those negotiating skills they were hailed for."

Luke glared at him. "Well it's a little hard when there's no Jedi left to teach you these things."

Zar looked away awkwardly. He had taken it a little too far that time. "I still need to do something, can't just stand here taking in the sights all—"

Flocks of birds and other flying creatures burst out from the mountains on the other side of the valley, where a series of buildings took up residence. They saw a cloud of dust and a tower that had sprung up from there, and it quickly rose to the same height as their own tower.

"I'll head over there," said Zar, and ran down the stairs. "Luke, you and your droid stay here with SN. I might need you here in case these two towers are connected somehow," he added as the boy opened his mouth to argue.

Luke still looked uncertain, but nodded all the same. Zar charged out the exit, eager to finally put this expedition to an end.

Locus gripped his chair handles tightly as he saw Zar head towards the new tower. The prize they had sought was now within their grasp, he could feel it…he only had to put up with this game for a little longer now. "Brogan, Anax," he wheezed into his comm. "The Talons' quest seems to be nearing its end. Do not make any move unless I tell you. We can take no chances, not when we're this close."

After a few hours, Zar finally made it to the new tower. It was in the middle of the grounds of a ruined temple. Thankfully, there were no dangerous animals in sight, so he strode right up to the gate. Unlike the one at their fort, this one was still standing, and looked like it was in surprisingly decent shape for what had to be centuries old. There were countless symbols carved into it, and at its center, was what looked like a crystalline trident-like symbol. Zar gave a start when he saw several symbols and markings that belonged to the Jedi Order. It seems that they too had been to Yuca long ago. But why?

Zar took a closer look at the trident again; there were symbols carved along its edges…instructions. Thankfully it wasn't in the Yucari language and he could read it…thanks to all of those lessons from his parents. He shook his head and did what the instructions told him to do. He pushed in the outer forks of the trident first, then a few of the Jedi symbols, and finally, he pushed in the centers of the trident and the main Jedi symbol. The gate shuddered, groaned, and cracked open.

Light poured out, so bright that Zar could barely see. With a deep breath, he made his decision. He had come this far, he wasn't going to be deterred now. He closed his eyes and slipped in through the opening. He took a few steps forward on what felt like a stone path, but then strangely, the solid feeling disappeared, replaced with something softer. Worried he might have stepped in quicksand, Zar opened his eyes.

The sunlight almost blinded him. But even more disconcerting, was the feel of the sun warming his armor and suit, the sound of the waves lapping the shore, and the smell of the fruits, flowers, and other plants. As his sight adjusted, Zar blinked as he realized where was. This couldn't be real. He had to be hallucinating…but here he was, back at Scarif.

A group of children rushed past him, laughing at they played in the tropical paradise. Zar turned around, and behind him, was his old village. It was exactly as he remembered; the natives mostly made their homes out of wood from the local trees, with a few modern buildings here and there. His people loved using traditional boats instead of modern ones to skim along the shore, though they did occasionally have to use modern boats, and there were whole piers of them, gently bobbing along the waves. And on one of those piers, was a very familiar duo…a beautiful tattooed Pantorn girl in diving gear alongside a muscular Quarren in a short sleeved tunic, and a young boy was walking up to them.

Zar rushed towards the group; as he did so, he collided with a fisherman…or rather, he went straight through him. Zar faintly realized this was indeed not real, but he didn't care. He had to see them. He leapt from the beach onto the pier, and just reached them as the boy said, "At last, my favorite pair of offworlders have returned. Any new artifacts? The long lost bones of the dreaded Ranamaros? A pretty sea shell?"

The Quarren, Oshun Kurrin, hoisted a bag over his shoulder, and grunted jovially, "Plenty, Zar. Remind me to thank your parents for convincing the Vadino Clan to allow us to explore the reefs."

Zar stared incredulously at his younger self. It was bizarre seeing himself young again, in the old colorful clothes popular on Scarif, with all of his limbs and both eyes, and beardless. Then he grinned at the Pantoran and said, "And how did you enjoy the reefs, my dear? I doubt any of them compared to you."

Luma Minzaffi rolled her eyes, which were as blue as her skin, but couldn't hold back a smile. Zar felt his heart break. He realized what day this was; he couldn't see it again, he would not see it again…but he didn't know how to escape this illusion. Zar followed the trio to the biggest house on the beach, with an even bigger warehouse next to it. Inside, there were rows of crates and closets overflowing with artifacts, with some even hanging off the doors. As they slipped through the canyons of artifacts, they arrived to a small clearing, where a man and woman were hunched over something on a table.

"I'm telling you," the blonde woman admonished her partner, "it's not safe, they haven't responded well to the new Empire. And remember the last time we were there? Barely avoided the battle with the Separatists, and even before that, we almost got eaten by Anakkonas. Zaram still hasn't gotten over it."

"We could hire some protection," the brown haired man scoffed. "I could even break out my old gear. Besides, Zaram doesn't have to come with us, you know how he feels about these trips of ours."

"Whatever the case," interrupted Oshun, and offered the bag to them, "we won't be accompanying you either."

Xantho and Jendula Atoll looked up, a shocked expression on both of their faces. "Oshun Kurrin," Xantho started, "you cannot be serious. If you think dealing with the locals here was bad, going out into the galaxy as it is now—"

"We know, Xantho," sighed Luma, and ran a hand through her long wavy purple hair. "But we don't really have a choice. We can't stay much longer. Can you imagine what the Empire would do to the village if they found us here?"

The Atolls, including the young Zar, looked troubled. The actual Zar clenched his fist. If only they knew what was going to happen that very day. "When will you be leaving?" asked Jendula hesitantly, as she took the bag from Oshun.

"As soon as our pilot gets back to us," replied Oshun. "But don't worry, Jendula. We'll do our best to keep in touch somehow, we promise."

Something strange happened then. The surroundings grew so bright Zar couldn't see, but a moment later, he was back outside. It was now later that afternoon, and a storm was brewing, with the wind and waves already battering the piers and boats. Young Zar was with the duo under a palm tree as they stared at the clouds. Luma had swapped her diving outfit for a shirt that exposed her shoulders and stomach, and a long skirt with slits over shorts. "Our ship is almost done getting its upgrades over at the city," he told them. "If you want, I can fly you to where you need to go, I've gotten pretty good at it now."

Oshun smiled sadly and laid a hand on his shoulder. "I appreciate the offer, my young friend. But we've already asked too much from you. No, we'll just wait for him to get his lazy rear end over to Scarif, and then we'll quietly disappear. Good thing we didn't burn down all of our bridges."

The young Zar hesitated, but then he spoke again. "I never asked before, but…why did you two decide to leave the Jedi Order?"

Their faces hardened as bitter memories came back to them. "I suppose I'm partially to blame for that," muttered Luma. "Though that commando tin can certainly take some of the credit too."

Oshun waved a firm hand. "It was no fault of yours. It was the Separatists and our all-knowing Council who—" A flicker of guilt flashed across Oshun's face and he sighed. "Forgive me…I shouldn't talk ill of them now, even if I often disagreed with them."

Luma gave a small sad smile. "More like almost always."

"Anyway," Oshun continued, "I wanted to go after Luma after she was shot and captured by Separatist forces. But the Council just presumed she was dead considering the circumstances. They threatened to kick me out of the Order if I disobeyed them. So I snuck behind enemy lines, rescued her, brought her back to the Temple to show she was alive and well, and quit the Order before they could give me one of their lectures."

"Afterwards I tried to fit back into the Order," said Luma, "but I couldn't, not after everything that had happened…the fact that not long later one of our fellow Jedi was cast out and unjustly put on trial didn't help either. Don't worry," she added, as young Zar looked shocked, "thankfully they caught the real culprit and she was cleared…but it was so unfair how they treated her. So I left and joined Oshun on his travels. Thankfully, I can't say I have regretted it."

"Partially thanks to our adventures together, I hope?" young Zar asked hesitantly.

Luma's smile turned somewhat brittle and she hugged him. He hugged her back with some tears in his eyes. Oshun joined in on the hug and they all enjoyed each other's company in that one moment. "More than partially, lad," said Oshun.

Then they noticed that Xantho and Jendula were a few steps away, with bittersweet expressions on their own faces. "And we hope that we can share some of the credit too," said Jendula. "I hope you don't mind, but we packed a few farewell gifts to remember us by."

"We also have your pilot on the comm," added Xantho. "He just dropped out of hyperspace. I don't mean to brag, but I don't think he'll be as pleasurable company as us."

"No one could ever replace you three," said Luma, and the duo shook hands with Zar's parents…and that was when it happened.

The comm bleeped and Xantho answered it. His face quickly furrowed in a frown. "What do you mean, you're turning around? What's happening—?" Xantho and Jendula's faces blanched as they heard the response and he turned back to the duo. "Anything you absolutely need, get it, and we'll get you to the city now."

Oshun and Luma shared a worried look. "Why? What's wrong—?"

Zar's parents didn't bother answering; Xantho ran back to the warehouse, and Jendula hurried over to Zar. "Listen to me," she told him, and put her hands on his shoulders. "Stay with your father. Do exactly as he says, and no matter what happens, stay together."

Young Zar looked scared and confused as he tried to ask what was happening, but Jendula shook her head, and bustled the three towards the warehouse. The actual Zar felt himself shaking. He couldn't go through this again. Who was making him relive this nightmare?

The group eventually hustled out with supplies, but a noise in the sky, even louder than the approaching thunder, grabbed their attention. When they saw what it was, they ran to the speeder behind their house, and sped off. But even if Zar hadn't seen those dark shapes soar towards the city, even if he hadn't seen the wedge-shaped shadow fall over the land and sea, he already knew it was too late.

The Empire had come to Scarif.