Erk stumbled into his meeting room, urgently making a meeting with his master. He had received word, from someone he worked with, that "an unknown source" was trying to contact him on his personal channel.

He nearly fumbled many times, but made the call in time. The dark room lit only by a fire. A holographic image of his master appeared, but he was still. Erk kneeled down so quickly, he hurt his knee when it collided with the ground. He could sense the anger and disappointment emanating from the hologram alone.

Erk wanted to say nothing, under fear he would further agitate his master; but he couldn't remain silent if he was summoned. "I-" he started without thinking things through, "I, um-"

"As the Jedi grow closer to uncovering our plan, you cower from the people you were sent to kill." The Master's voice was calm, but nerve-wrecking; he spoke slowly, emphasizing every word on his tongue.

Erk composed his thoughts, swallowed his fear, then reported, "The Jedi team is split." He managed without fail, "and I know where the others are."

His master's eyes bored holes into Erk's spirit, and bored holes into those holes. "Should you return to me again, empty handed, I will personally see to it your companions are dis-char-ged." He drew out and emphasized the word "discharged" with amplified aggressiveness, making his threat clear.

Erk understood the command, because he thought about Kaiyah; and the thought of losing her supercharged his anger. The Master sensed everything playing out as he foresaw, and his scowl lightened up, just barely.

The Master inhaled deeply. "The dark side hasn't been this powerful in many generations. Keep the Jedi off our trail, and your friend may survive a terrible fate."

Erk said no more; he stood up and left. The Master turned off the hologram on his end.


The Master had another conversation going on his end, with one of his top leaders. "The Sith Erk intends to betray us." He said, to the mysterious leader's surprise. "I sense your distress. I still have use for him; my order to you is to act as though you know nothing I've told you."

Although displeased, the leader agreed. "Yes sir." He bowed.

"Your patience and loyalty will be strongly rewarded." The Master confirmed. "But for now, focus on the Coruscant attack; bring your father from the shadows."

"Yes, sir." The leader said, his burden relieved a little bit.


Exar felt an amazing cold in the Force. He cleared his mind and tried meditating; but he wasn't able to connect as easily as others were, which angered him often.

"Aaagh!" He growled, slapping his face into his hands.

"Hey, what's going on? Use your words!" Rye said, holding his hand out. In Rye's experience, when Exar got frustrated over seemingly nothing, it got messy.

Exar looked up at Rye, then Erickson, his frustration suddenly replaced with confusion. "None of you felt that?"

Rye looked at Erickson then back at Exar. "N- W-We didn't feel anything." He stuttered at first.

Exar leaned back in his seat. "I can't connect again."

"Oh another block." Erickson mumbled again.

"You know, I've been able to find a more effective solution. I've had guidance from other Jedi, and their advice made sense." Rye said.

"The point? Please."

"The best way to effectively connect, reconnect, to the Force is, not only keeping your mind clear, but to keep yourself calm, composed, and not angry."

That answer didn't change anything in Exar; in fact, it seemed to frustrate him further. "Easier said than done. I'm just an angry guy."

Rye looked into Exar for a moment. Underneath the anger and frustration, he sensed guilt, sadness, and regret. All normal things for anyone to feel, but Rye thought there was another story behind those feelings connected to Exar's anger. "You need closure." He said.

"What? What for? There's nothing for me to 'close' anymore." Exar said confidently.

Rye hummed. "We'll see."

Exar furrowed his brow at Rye's sentence. 'What does that mean?' Thinking nothing of it, he rolled his eyes and dismissed it. He unbuckled himself and climbed up to the cockpit to scout out the path.

"How much further do you calculate?" Exar asked the pilots.

"Just a few parsecs, according to the ship." The main pilot answered.

"You know that nebulae mess with technology, right?"

"Any pilot knows that."

"Yes, but this particular one has been infected. You think you're on track one moment; but the next, you'll find yourself either spiraling into a sun ray or exiting the nebula the way you came."

"What's your point?" The annoyed co pilot asked, swiveling around.

"I know this area." Exar said. "Turn the ship around."

"The ship says it's this way." The pilot said, pointing the way the ship was heading.

Exar just looked at him, expressionless. He held his hand up, using the Force to turn the steering handles, forcing the ship around. Once the ship had turned, they beheld the giant cluster of red light and exploded star.

"I'll be!" The pilot said, amazed. "I wonder where we would've ended up if we followed the ship."

"In circles." Exar said. "Now we'll have to make our way, first, into the abyss, slowly." He explained.

"If the nebula messes up technology, how will the relief supplies be able to track our ship's movements?"

Exar tapped the comm system and contacted the other two ships. "Someone talk to me. What's the status on the relief supplies?"

Calista's voice came through from the other end. "They're following closely behind. Under my emergency code's protocol, they're always ready to have the quickest delivery time."

"What's the ETA?" Exar asked.

"I believe they're here."

The pilot turned the ship back around; and out from hyperspace came one big Republic cargo ship, twice the size of an Imperial freighter.

Help was coming to his people, Exar knew; however, he didn't feel like a hero or a good guy. Justice was being done, but he felt. . . he didn't know what to feel.

From there on, Exar took the reigns of the ship he was in, and the other ships followed. For no more than a minute and a half, they maneuvered around and through the nebula and the obstacles inside. Some were reminded of the discovery of the confirmed, formerly fabled, discovery of Lira San, especially when the ships came to a full halt and beheld the planet and the multi-colored atmosphere around it.

"Do you see it?" Exar contacted the other ships. He heard no response, but he took that as a good thing. 'Who couldn't behold this in awe?' He thought. "Let's make our way down there."


On the surface of Dathomir II, Heceowa and another mad Zabrak were caught in a savage wrestling match; not one that would be considered sporty. No, these two were particularly hungry; they were even biting each other. Heceowa emerged dominant when he outright bit the other's finger off.

Heceowa was crawling around his victim on all fours, chewing off the skin of the finger in his mouth, and chuckling. He perked his head up when he heard the distinct ship humming; he spit the finger out of his mouth, swallowing what he had left, and told the other Zabrak, "Alert the men! We're about to feast."

The other Zabrak simply got up to follow Heceowa's orders, not paying any mind to the surging pain in his hand.

"Indeed you are." Exar spoke suddenly, appearing beside Heceowa.

Heceowa jumped out of his skin, poising his hands defensively.

"I warned them that you guys were more, fitting, of their stereotypes of you, so I went on ahead to secure a peaceful landing."

Heceowa remained defensive and still, but was confused. "Why did you agree with what I said? About us feasting?"

"Well," Exar started, but turned to wave down the ships, "Seeing the state my people were in, I couldn't leave you that way."

Heceowa's expression darkened. "What're you really here for?"

"Huh?"

"Come on, huh? Why bring them? You have an ulterior motive, don't you? Didn't take enough from the library?"

"Hey! I had no ulterior motive then, and I don't have one now! And second off- second off, I didn't take anything from the library! I may not be a part of you guys, but that is one rule I respect to this day." He said, raising his voice as the ships began lowering to the ground

Heceowa couldn't reply, but remembered one question went unanswered. "Why are they here?"

"I can't do all this on my own. Now when your guys get here, you'll have to call them off."

The ships landed, and the ramps lowered down.

"Those don't look like Republic ships." Heceowa said.

"We stole them from some bad guys. Speaking of which, Erk, their leader, is on his way back to finish you guys off."

"Heh?" He asked dumbly.

"We kinda provoked him, but overwhelmed him. If we catch him here, we can finish him. But for now, we're preparing this." Exar said as the team brought the supply crates from the relief ship down onto the surface.

"I hope you're right." Heceowa said. Normally, he'd be acting more hostile; but the sights and smells he was experiencing threw his stomach for a loop. He slowly approached the food station. The Republic team set up tables and set up the food that was already prepared on the way to the planet.

Exar just folded his arms, burying his hands inside his cloak, letting out a breath. He looked on as Heceowa indulged himself in the food. The other Zabraks came outside, prepared for a fight, but followed suit behind Heceowa.

All of a sudden, the feelings of savagery and hostility that filled Exar's senses when he was on the planet were replaced with feelings of happiness, satisfaction, and relief. And in that moment, that moment of brief vulnerability, Exar didn't feel so stressed out; a matter of fact, he felt the same as the other Zabraks did. Was it even the emotions of the Zabraks he was feeling?

For what felt like the thousandth time in a day, Rye went to talk to Exar again. Exar didn't want any more sentimental speeches, so he cut to the point. "Erk is going to be here soon. Let them eat, heal them up a little bit, but keep them at bay. He's going to finish them off, and we need to be ready."

Rye could sense the clear opposite of anticipation emanating from Exar, so he went with Exar's flow. "Will he have any sort of advantage on this territory?"

Exar faked a single chuckle. "Nah. Nah he won't."

Rye could sense the optimism in the way he replied, and felt at ease.

In that sudden moment, Rye felt strange. He'd never sensed Exar this way. Matter of fact, now that he thought about it, Exar seemed different ever since they arrived at the planet. 'Not even in a bad way.' He thought, too. And Exar's being optimistic fueled Rye's thoughts even more. Considering all circumstances, Rye put two and two together and thought he figured something out; but now wasn't the time to talk about it.

Erickson stepped up to speak to the Zabraks. "My name is Erickson Follnor. I am a neutral voice between the Jedi and the Republic." The Zabraks looked up to pay attention, but continued stuffing their malnourished faces. "We come with food, but also medical supplies. Whenever any of you are done, you can lead us to those who need medical attention, and they will get it. The healing process will begin."

Again, Rye sensed a spark of something else inside Exar. 'A healing process, indeed.' He thought.


-Two Days Later-

Exar walked through the great halls of his former home, just inside the doors. It had been made into a medical facility. There were all sorts of medicine being supplied: healing stim canisters, bacta tanks, even some lesser-known -but effective- healing tactics provided by Jo when he joined the Republic. Those that were mentally damaged were quickly healing; and those with missing limbs and fingers had their digits properly replaced with metallic ones.

"What's the status?" Exar asked Calista's medical professional.

"We're a little behind schedule."

"How's that?"

"We haven't been able to upgrade our material from 'treatment' to 'cure.' On top of that, some of these guys are nearly beyond help; in that they're taking a lot longer to heal. A couple days longer and they would've just become rabid animals."

Exar leaned on a table and exhaled. "All because I left." He mumbled.

The medic heard the trembling guilt in his voice, stopped his work and thought about Exar's words. He too exhaled, put down his tools and turned to Exar. "Look, I don't know much about all this; but I do know this: if you hadn't been around, these guys would've been toast. Sure you caused a temporary downfall, but you brought about their ultimate renaissance. They're going to be better than ever before."

"This organization was meant to be separate from the Republic and any opposing sides. I don't think they'll be too happy if they're forcibly thrown into the conflict."

"On the contrary," Heceowa spoke up. "I was just about to find you to talk about that."

Exar looked back at Heceowa with a displeased expression, troubled at the implication; the medic went back to his work. "Heceowa, that's against everything we were raised for." Exar said.

"Yet here you are. Exar, we were in hell, and you brought us out of it. With all we have, all we know; if we help each other, we could be unstoppable against the growing evil."

That reminded Exar of Erk's threat. 'Where is he, anyway?' He thought. He then decided to step back outside to think.


Rye caught wind of Exar's recent conversation and went to talk to him outside. "I sense a great fog beginning to clear."

"But why should they take the cure from the one who gave them the sickness?"

"I thought you were convinced that it was the other guy who left first. You call him 'Erk?' "

"I. . . did lie about that."

Rye hummed inquisitively, crossing his arms inside his robes.

"I guess, I. . . I wanted to cover my guilt." He paused for a moment more to think about how. "And I guess I projected that onto him and the team."

"Does he know that?" Rye asked, thinking Exar was referring to Heceowa.

Exar realized he wasn't specific. "I projected it onto Erk. I think that's why he's after me, and all of these guys."

"Where is he anyway?" Rye asked. "Isn't it odd he threatened your kind and doesn't show up for two days?"

"I've been trying to use the Force to tap into that, but I haven't been able to see anything." Exar said with a hint of frustration.

"Conflicted emotions and guilt will cloud your senses. You need to let it go."

"Easier said than done, Master! I did this to them-"

Rye slapped a hand on Exar's shoulder and interrupted him. "And you saved them, too. By the will of the Force, something better happened to them than anything else that would've happened otherwise. You, are, a hero." Rye said, emphasizing each word, then pulling Exar into a hug.

Exar tensed up, clenching his fists; but several new things were happening at once. His Master called him a hero; he'd never been credited as such, because he always stayed away from spotlights. And he'd especially never received a hug before; he'd been raised to be hard as Kyber. He wouldn't feel any emotional burden, but now he felt very weak.

And as the fog in his mind cleared, the fog in his eyes broke through like a train. He'd never really cried before, and especially not in public.

As a cherry on top, Rye soothingly told him in his most sincere tone, "I'm proud of you, Exar."

And now, where there used to be a thick fog, there was a tunnel with a light at its end; the light was one of many bright stars. A cosmos where there used to be a swamp.

Exar collapsed to his knees, embracing his Master without thinking. The both of them stayed that way until Exar finished letting out a decade's worth of stress.

"In hindsight, I guess it's good that you weren't a good leader to your team." Rye emphasized the past tense.

. . .

'My team? . . . My people- my team! Aang and Jo!' Exar realized the puzzle. "It was a misdirection!" He shouted.

"Huh?"

"He's going after 'my people!' " He repeated Erk. "Jedi!" He said, gesturing to himself. "He's going after Aang and Jo, because he knows he can take advantage of the division among us."

Rye sighed. "It's a sure way to win. Where are the others?"

"Tatooine. They're looking for clues at my other home."

"So we start there."

Exar took this moment to be sure. He stood up and faced the planet's horizon; he closed his eyes and did his breathing exercises. He focused his thoughts on Aang and Jo. The Force flowed through him much more easily now; Exar felt as though his entire soul was cleansed. Then he was able to sense that Aang and Jo were indeed in danger.

He turned around to Rye and said, "I need to go."

"You don't need to go alone. Erickson and I are their masters, too."


"Do you feel the growing power of the dark side?" Jo asked. Aang, the Rodian, and he were all thrown in a cell in the Tusken camp.

Aang swiftly turned his head towards Jo. Jo never talked about the dark side, and the easy tone Jo used gave Aang the worst feeling for the moment. "Jo?"

The Rodian also perked his head up in interest.

"The feeling. It builds up inside you-" Jo continued.

"Resist it, Jo!" Aang said, shaking Jo by his shoulders.

"Should I be concerned?" The Rodian asked.

Jo continued, "And it overwhelms you, until it takes you over, and it unleashes itself."

And then a certain sound emitted from Jo that froze everyone in their place.

"And then it's gone." Jo finished.

Aang let go of Jo's shoulders, stood straight up, looking down at him judgmentally.

"What just happened?" The Rodian asked.

"Another poorly-timed joke. That's what happened." Aang replied, taking a seat on the prison floor near the Rodian.

"Oh come on!" Jo brushed it aside. "We need a little humor to lighten the mood."

"The dark side is nothing to joke about, Jo! And the timing is insensitive."

"Just trying to lighten the mood." Jo mumbled with a disgruntled attitude.

"Well you need to think before you say, Jo!" Aang told him sternly. Jo sighed and turned away. Aang turned his attention to the Rodian and asked him, "How are you familiar with the son of Galen Marek?"

"Only as a Tusken leader. I encountered him on some archaeological ventures, I may have messed some things of his up; I only escaped with my life and a threat upon it, should he see my face again."

"Nothing too deep, okay. So why are you still alive?"

"He's the type that likes to be, entertained, by this sort of thing."

"So, what? A gladiator?" Jo asked.

"From what I've heard, he's not that merciful."


Viran and Ephraim arrived at the Senate Building to await Corellian Senator Garm Bel Iblis. Quia immediately contacted him; and it turned out that he was already there, in a meeting. They walked through the empty halls, listening to the commencing meeting.

"How come you're not involved in the meeting?" Ephraim asked.

"Probably not a Jedi matter." Viran said.

"Shouldn't Republic matters be Jedi matters?"

"The last time that happened, the Jedi were wiped out, and they were framed for the downfall of the Republic."

"Then, what is it the Follnors do? Why are they involved?"

"The Jedi agreed not to have any political voice, only to serve."

Ephraim hummed in understanding. "Are you okay with that?"

"It's very reasonable in retrospect."

"I mean: not having a voice. I mean, what if they ask you to do something you think is wrong?"

"That unlikely scenario would make us our enemies." Viran said. He thought about Ephraim's strangely loud, vocal concerns and wondered how he seemed to know so much about these matters. Like he knew from personal experience. "However," Viran said, "should you ever find yourself in that position, never fear to make your voice known."

Even though Viran was giving him direct advice, Ephraim felt the message hit much deeper than it was meant to. "How long has this meeting been going on?" Ephraim asked, subverting the subject.

"Patience, Ephraim. We're on time."


The Senate meeting eventually let out; and from the closest door, Garm Bel Iblis emerged. "Senator Iblis!" Viran shouted. Sitting down, leaning against the wall, Ephraim was shot awake; he immediately stood alert. "We need a word with you."

"I noticed; I received a notification from the Secretary of Defense. What can I do for you?"

"How many old Republic ships can be functional soon?"

"Only a handful were kept from the scrap yards. Considering, well, history, it was deemed in the best interest that we kept a small fleet available for the occasion that some new enemy would decide to throw his cards in."

"It will be soon." Ephraim said. "Our mole says there will be an attack on Coruscant, very soon."

Garm scoffed. "Who would dare launch an assault on Coruscant?"

"The son of Kylo Ren." Ephraim answered. "He's apparently built a fleet."

"And what did Solo have to say about it?" Garm asked.

"He believes his son would attack Coruscant just to bring him back into the spotlight. To exact some kind of vengeance, maybe." Viran said.

"Wait, how do we know the son is involved?" Garm interrupted, putting his hand up.

Ephraim looked at Viran, then back at him. "The operative team of Jedi I work with encountered a Sith. That Sith carried Ren's blade, thought to have been long gone."

"So this Sith is Ren's son?" Garm asked.

"No. The Jedi fought someone completely different." Ephraim said.

"That Sith has his own saber; he used Ren's to make a statement." Viran added.

"So the son is going to attack, in hopes to bring his father into the spotlight. But he's not alone is he?"

"They never are." Viran agreed.

Ephraim knew of a certain rule. "There are always two."