"Koril, go back inside."

"No."

"Koril! This is not the time to be heroic! Go!!"

"I'm not leaving you two!"

The bolt singed Mand's skin as it flashed past her and hit Koril square in the chest behind her. He was propelled backward, landing hard against a wall and sliding limply to the platform floor. But...it wasn't supposed to have hit Koril. It should have hit her.

"Leave him alone! I know it's me you want!"

"Mand, no!"

Beside her, Rech ignited his silver blade and defensively stood in front of her, but the six Dark Jedi before them only formed a tight semi-circle as they stepped closer, each extending an electrified palm towards the two.

"Tzan was my master," the tallest man on the end said first.

"Layna was my sister," said another at the opposite end.

"You will all pay," Anastasia Tarthos said, situated in the middle of the other five.

"Let them go! I'm the reason for your losses!"

Uninterested in her plea, the six responded by unleashing a combined bolt that she thought for sure had killed her. Instantly, her senses registered nothing, obliterated by the sheer power of the merciless Force Lightning. Even her thoughts were destroyed. After the six's single but annihilating strike, what else could be left of her?

In a surreal haze, a woman's unbearable scream echoed about, its origination scattered. It was almost inhuman; no one could survive that much pain, and yet it continued for another agonizing moment before--

"That was just the beginning," a sinister voice called through her consciousness. She heard the pained choking and gasping of someone near her; it wasn't her, was it?

Her vision began to recover from a pure, blind white, finally picking up the slight movement of fuzzy gray shapes. The choking she heard continued until she heard a sickening smack, similar to how bone and skin would sound as it struck a hard surface with great force, and with the sound, everything in her vision immediately stopped moving. She heard another choking sound, but it seemed to be further away from her at first. It slowly became closer, and again, she heard skin make hard contact with something, stopping the choking. Just as her vision was beginning to sharpen, a painful haze suddenly descended upon her, sealing her into the numb blackness of unconsciousness.

White hot, intense pain brought Mand around and nearly reduced her to tears. She whimpered weakly, opening her eyes only after hearing the zapping crackle of some kind of energy source nearby. Her eyes barely focused, but what she could see perplexed her. Metal binders magnetically suspended her by her arms stretched out to the side in a containment field, and looking about the room, she found the containment field's power generator beside her, producing the sound she heard earlier. The walls around her were solid black, except for one in front of her which was transparisteel. Through it she saw what she at first thought was her reflection, but after studying the other, she realized it was Rech, hanging limply in the same manner as she on the opposite side of the transparisteel wall. She tried to move or make some kind of sound, but she hadn't the strength to do either. She could only watch as two of the six Dark Jedi who had attacked them walked over to stand on either side of Rech and began talking to him.

Rech was motionless. With the distance, Mand couldn't even see if he was breathing. She tried desperately to draw on strength from the Force to contact him...but she got no answer. Was she too weak? Was she in some kind of Force-less bubble? What were those two Dark Jedi doing to him?

Without warning, the power generator beside her revved up and sent a torturous current of electricity through her, twisting and contorting her body as she screamed. She felt muscles tear with the strain of their forced contraction, and even though she was once again on the brink of unconsciousness, she didn't even feel herself brewing a Shockwave. With all her training in the past few weeks to suppress the reflex, she had rendered herself defenseless, and soon, she feared she would be lifeless.

As she struggled to breathe again after the current finally stopped, only one thing came to her mind that kept her from completely giving up. Almost like a dream, she saw her infant daughter Cordira, smiling and reaching her little arms towards her. Mand's own arms free of the restraints in her mind, she extended her hand to the girl, their palms meeting with a bright white light that shone from their touching hands. The image quickly dissolved, putting Mand back into her solitary torture room, but she felt almost...calmed by the vision. Had it been a vision, or just a random visualization her mind had somehow put together after enduring all the electricity that had poured through her?

Maybe it didn't matter, she thought. She didn't know how much more of the torture her body could handle. She had already suffered the combined power of six Dark Jedi simultaneously; how close was she from the end of her stamina?

With what little strength she had left, Mand raised her eyes as best she could to look across the room through the transparisteel divider. To her surprise, Rech was standing on his own, no longer suspended by restraints, but his strange, blank expression almost made her shudder. The two Dark Jedi still stood on either side of him, and one was holding a lightsaber out to him as they both spoke to him, though like before, she couldn't hear them at all.

Though she hadn't before been able to sense anything in the Force since she had come around, something seemed to suddenly explode in her mind. It was almost like half of her soul had been violently ripped apart from her, leaving her with next to nothing. The feeling rendered her breathless, wounding her on a deeper level than the physical pain of the torture had ever reached. Seeking some kind of explanation for what had just happened, she looked up to see Rech staring back at her with a dark, angry gaze.

She refused to believe it. Had he just done that to her? Had they still been connected to each other in the Force as they had been since before their marriage, he would've been affected by it, too. But his face reflected nothing but anger as he grabbed the lightsaber from the Dark Jedi and ignited its crimson blade.

Shattered and broken, Mand hardly even noticed the second round of electricity that flowed through her again, draining her of the last shred of hope to which she had been so desperately clinging.


Koril slowly awoke to the soft conversation of Kaydee and Veon Banarecc beside him, comforting voices to hear in his cloudy daze.

"...but of course I was not about to divulge such information -- how rude of them to ask me!"

"I'm sure they were just curious, Kaydee."

"Yes, they most certainly were, but it is against my programming to concern myself with such personal, private information! My Masters' privacy is always my most important responsibility."

To Koril, Veon sounded...different, more distant, though Kaydee had yet to pick up on it. Still, Veon seemed to be humoring the droid more than he would have in the past. "They're probably not as well-versed in securing information as you are."

"Clearly! But I do suppose that they encounter far less people than I do on a daily basis, so perhaps they simply crave interaction. I, however, am most content with my programming..."

As Kaydee droned on, Koril took a few moments to breathe and assess his physical state. In a whirlwind of images, he remembered the confrontation on the platform, but he could only solidly recall the events up until the first bolt struck him. The rest was a blurry haze, almost dreamlike and unreal. Rech and Mand had tried to protect him as the six Dark Jedi descended from their craft, but the Force Lightning burned throughout his whole body and rendered his mind useless in its aftermath.

His muscles were still unbelievably sore, though he knew they would be. With every breath, his chest muscles protested, almost refusing to work after having suffered so much damage. He didn't even want to think how the rest of his body was going to react.

Without moving his head, Koril opened his eyes slowly and looked over at his former king conversing with the Rys'tihn protocol droid Kaydee. Koril's delight at seeing the man he had served loyally for years and come to respect was marred by the man's pallid appearance. Veon was thin, though it showed most noticeably in his face. His once strong, determined features were frail, and even his posture as he stood was weakened, just as Elena had said. Elena...

"Where's Elena?" Koril managed to say, interrupting Kaydee midsentence.

Veon instantly looked down at him and turned to face him more fully. He seemed hesitant to answer, his eyes sad. "She's...out searching for Rech and Mand." After a moment, he continued. "How are you feeling? Do you remember what happened?"

"I feel...like I should be dead." Veon almost responded, but Koril answered his second question. "Those Dark Jedi took Rech and Mand?"

Veon nodded solemnly. "Two of them did. Did you know who any of them were?" Paneau's former king leaned against the bed and looked to the floor as Koril shook his head slightly. No, they were nameless to him, but he recognized them all from his vision.

Koril grimaced as he began to shiver in the cold room, radiating pain throughout his body. Veon turned to a chair behind him and picked up a blanket to lay over him. Without prompting, he spoke quietly, spreading the blanket over Koril carefully.

"You're in the Jedi Temple. A team of Jedi Healers worked on you for the past two days, removing calcifications from your muscles. You should be okay after a few more days' rest." After a brief pause, Veon continued, recounting the events he had witnessed from within the shuttle as the Jedi and Dark Jedi dueled on the platform. He concisely discussed the Jedi's valiant battle, how swiftly they had defeated their opponents, and finally, Veon hesitantly told Koril of Master Noor's sacrificial death.

Koril furrowed his brows but watched Veon a moment longer, as if waiting for him to say that the Jedi Master had been saved somehow. When the former king said nothing more, Koril brought a hand to his forehead, saddened. He hadn't worked with Noor much prior to the Dalon Palace collapse, but he owed the Jedi Master his life after sustaining a serious head injury that would've gone untreated had Noor not healed him himself. He also knew that Noor had been instrumental in rescuing Mand a few months before Koril had met them. Noor had taken to Rech, Mand, and Elena so protectively, and he knew Elena had to be upset at the loss.

"The funeral's tomorrow," Veon finished quietly. Koril nodded and sighed as he began to test his muscles, deciding he would do everything in his power to go. Veon seemed to pick up on his intent and shook his head.

"Koril, you need rest."

Closing his eyes as he mustered the strength to sit up, Koril spoke shortly, frustrated with having wasted so much time recovering from injuries over the past few weeks. "You can't order me around anymore, I outrank you."

"But right now, Elena outranks you, and she's charged me with making sure you don't do anything stupid."

Koril looked up at Veon with a strange expression.

"Of course, she didn't exactly say it like that," Veon corrected lightly. "But I know you. You're not going anywhere right now. You're in no shape."

"I need to see Elena," Koril finally managed to say through gritted teeth. He relaxed a little as he was finally able to sit without propping himself up. "Where is she?"

As Veon remained silent, Koril turned a little to look over at Kaydee who had been quiet in the far corner of the room. "Kaydee, where's Elena?"

Loyally, Kaydee happily answered before Veon could stop her. "Downstairs, Master Koril, in the Records Room."

Veon put a firm hand on Koril's shoulder, making him wince, but he held the older man's gaze unrelentingly. "I need to see her, Sire." Finally understanding Koril's plea, Veon sighed and stepped back.

"I'll take you to her," he said simply, handing Koril a light jacket to stay warm in and a pair of boots to put on his bare feet.


Just as Kaydee had said, Elena was in the Temple's gigantic Records Room, engrossed in a few datapads she was reading over as she sat at a table covered in others that weren't getting as much attention. The wear and strain of the past two days was apparent in her eyes, Koril noticed as he approached her, making the last few steps without Veon's aid. He was standing just inches from her, yet she gave no indication that she had even registered his presence.

"Elena..." he said softly. She instantly turned and looked up at him, standing immediately from her seat when she recognized him.

"What are you doing here! You're not supposed to be up yet..." She seemed to toss a disappointed glance behind Koril towards Veon, but her expression returned to concern as she looked him up and down, assessing his condition.

"I'm fine. No pain, I promise."

Elena searched his eyes, but he ignored her attempt to make him sit down. He instead took her hand in his tightly and with his other hand, he caressed her face, briefly easing her anxiety. Koril continued after a moment, though hesitantly.

"...Veon told me what happened."

At that, Elena released Koril's hand and tensed, quickly returning to her seat at the table and looking over a couple datapads. Her voice was shaky as she avoided discussing Noor.

"We've identified the two that Master Lithess subdued: Astryd Nerezza, and Adrian Tarthos. The one I dueled was possibly a Sordell, judging by his appearance and his connection to the Tarthos, and the other one who..." she trailed off, fighting to keep her expression neutral. Only after she stared hard at the datapad and refused to show any emotion did she continue. "The other was Anastasia Tarthos."

With a heavy heart, Koril sank into the chair beside her, pained to see her suffering so. She wasn't allowing herself to work through her feelings or release them; she was withholding them altogether. Again, he gently took her hand into his and watched her face as she continued to stare down at the table.

"Elena," he began pleadingly. "It's okay to be sad."

Her expression only faltered slightly. "A Jedi knows no emotion," she said blankly.

"I don't believe that." For all Koril knew and had seen of Elena's actions as a Jedi Knight, she had mostly reacted to situations as her emotions had guided her to. He knew she loved her friends, and she loved him. He wondered to himself what kind of a Jedi she would be without her emotions; they seemed to drive her to be the caring, compassionate Jedi he had come to love so much.

After a long quiet moment, she raised her head a little, and Koril could finally hear pain in her whisper.

"He didn't need to protect me."

Before she continued, she released a shaky breath and tightened her grip around Koril's hand. He had to wince a little, but she, thankfully, hadn't seen it, still fixated on the table. "My opponent wasn't any stronger than I was. I was handling him well. He was just going to hit me with Force Lightning, and it wasn't like I couldn't have taken it. I've been hit before. But Noor..." Again she trailed off as her voice caught in her throat. She sounded even more pained after she released another shaky breath and went on. "It's not fair. There was no reason... He shouldn't have died for me."

"He was willing to do that for anyone, Elena," Koril answered softly. "You saw him after the Palace collapse. That's just how he was."

"It was needless," she responded immediately, her voice hard. It caught Koril off guard, but he wasn't completely surprised at the progression. He continued carefully.

"Why do you want so much to believe that he died for nothing? He believed that he needed to save you. Maybe you just don't know the reason yet."

"That's exactly why I'm upset! I can't think of any possible explanation..." Elena had finally turned to look at him, and though her voice was bordering on anger, her eyes were more pain-filled than he had seen before. It was hurting him more to see her so distraught than his physical pain.

"He cared for you," he said softly. "Why do you need more explanation than that?"

Somewhat pacified by his last statement, she turned back to the datapads on the table, biting her lower lip. Her face relaxed a little, as well, as she closed her eyes briefly, taking in a slow breath. A moment later she looked back over the datapads and began again. "This was his thing...finding people, so he could heal them. He was the one who actually found Mand, not us. He told us where to go, and he found out what had been done to her so she could survive." Though still looking at the table, Elena turned her head slightly toward Koril, just enough to allow him to see the pain and fear in her eyes. "...I don't want to be the reason that I lose my three friends."

Even though he was just as afraid, he gently put a hand at Elena's jaw and lifted her face, forcing her gaze to meet his. "You're not," he said strongly as he repeated words she had once said to him. "And I'm not going to let you believe that, understand? We're going to find them. I can feel it."

Elena nodded a little after a moment, her lower lip trembling. He stood and pulled her into a tight embrace, and though he couldn't hear her sobs, he could feel her crying against him softly as he kissed the top of her head.


"The Natiyr girl is missing, too."

Deilia Rys'tihn shook her head at Keor Ordeel, who looked more concerned than the rest as he brought the news to the assembled Ghost Heirs in the Rys'tihn Retreat's lower ballroom.

"We already know that. Every available agent is hunting for them on--"

"No," Keor interrupted, "the infant! The Trislenas' caretakers were attacked, and Cordira Natiyr was taken from them."

Deilia watched as the other six pairs of eyes immediately turned to Jolani Trislena, the Trislena Mistress Ghost Heir. They weren't accusatory glares, Deilia noted, but ones of serious concern. Calm as usual, though, Jolani's wise expression changed little.

"Do we know who attacked them?" she asked quietly. Keor shook his head.

"Only that whoever they were, they were only after Cordira; they left Orun, Namia, Jace, and Dakar completely alone."

"Then they could not have known who the Trislena children were," Jolani responded with an edge. "It's not related, and it's not our concern."

Deilia and Jorro Ot'rio, the only other Tyro Heir present, exchanged incredulous glances as they sat beside each other at the meeting table. Apparently they were the only two who thought better of Jolani, as they were the only ones willing to voice their opposition.

Jorro spoke first. "So what if it's not related? The girl was in our care."

"But the attackers were obviously not sent for the Royalty. It is unfortunate for the girl, yes, but it appears as though they were not even aware of the opportunity they had to cause more problems for us. This is a completely separate matter."

Deilia narrowed her eyes. "Royalty or not, that girl deserves our protection."

"And Ri does not?"

Deilia looked down at the table, her cheeks flushed in frustration. That was the reason the eight of them were gathered: Veon's youngest daughter Annari Banarecc was kidnapped, as well, but more violently.

"Let us not forget that our primary concern at this moment is Ri," Jolani said as her gaze swept over the others. Her voice softened noticeably, though, as she continued. "Had this happened at any other time, we would of course have devoted the resources necessary to help. Once Ri is safe, we will immediately shift our intel to also find Cordira."

Deilia nodded reluctantly, still frustrated with being forced to do nothing. With each of the six families pulling their collective intel agents together to pursue the missing Princess, at least a few of them could be spared to search for a defenseless infant girl.

Deilia sighed. Had she not so adamantly demanded just yesterday that almost all their covert agents be divided between searching for Rech and Mand Natiyr on Coruscant and for Ri on Paneau, pulling them away from their protective surveillance of the Known Heirs on both planets, then maybe Cordira wouldn't have been so vulnerable. She felt responsible for the girl's disappearance, and as the other heirs continued discussing options for dispersing search teams for Ri, she decided she'd have to find the infant herself.

"Even still, the Gedall's Alpha team was responsible for protecting Jec when that bounty hunter attacked in the Dalon Council Hall," Finn Gedall answered another Master Heir. "They weren't able to find the hunter, but they traced him to one of the Governors. That spear was intended for Jec, not Koril, and now that the boy is so well protected, the hunter decided to pursue Ri instead.

"It's a political move," Finn concluded. "Even from prison, the Governors are still trying to destroy the Banareccs."

Cade Rys'tihn spoke for the first time as he glanced at the five other Master Heirs. "Do we go after information from the Governors, then?"

All eyes once again fell on Jolani who sighed lightly before she answered. "No," she said plainly, "we leave the Governors alone. The Royal Guard can deal with them. We are going to track the hunter.

"Prepare your vessels for travel," she said as she swept her soft gaze over the table. "We Ghost Heirs will join the search for the hunter, Kun Asakura, on Coruscant."

The six Master Heirs quickly stood from their seats, each giving various orders into their respective comlinks as they dispersed. Deilia remained seated, watching them leave, but looked over when Jorro put a hand at the base of her neck as he sat beside her.

"It's not your fault, Deilia," he said softly. Deilia hesitantly nodded, leaning into him slightly. Jorro Ot'rio was almost three years younger than she, but he had been a calming, understanding friend through her recent family turmoil, including the loss of her father and seemingly her brother, as well. Unlike his Known Aunt Ariler, who sported a bouncy personality and curly, blond hair to match, Jorro was thankfully more subdued and dark-headed like his father Dran. Deilia had never liked Ariler much.

"If anything," Jorro continued, "it's my fault. My team was supposed to be supporting the Trislenas', but Lalie pulled them last minute at my suggestion."

Deilia nodded, sighing a little. "I can't shake this strange feeling about it all. The Prophecy hasn't made sense since..." she trailed off, closing her eyes as Jorro ran his fingers along her jaw. She slightly turned her head to dismiss his further advances. Though she knew his gesture was meant to be comforting, she didn't want her mind cluttered with other thoughts.

"I know," Jorro said softly, "but that wasn't your fault either, Deil."

"You know I don't like to be called that."

"You can't blame yourself."

Deilia looked Jorro square in the eyes, her voice suddenly hard. "He would still be alive if I hadn't screwed up."

Releasing a long breath, Jorro softened his expression and shook his head. "You took a chance on an informed decision that you made. And I know the personal cost was...hard, but as near as I can tell," he hesitated, "it was necessary."

Deilia nodded after a moment, though she still didn't completely agree with him. It was her message to her father that brought him back to Paneau and landed him in the Dalon Palace just moments before it collapsed, resulting in his death. She had misinterpreted her intel's report, assuming the planned destruction was days away; in effect, she had unwittingly invited her father to the end of his life. She thought she was keeping him away from another danger that would've hurt him elsewhere, because, according to the Prophecy, "the elder of the two remaining must survive to redeem he who was exiled in his place."

The Ghost Heirs all knew the disaster that was to befall the Palace; some of their agents had even been involved in its orchestration. The motive for its destruction was little more than making the public aware of what its government had done to protect its own interests. Merli'il Rys'tihn, Deilia's father, had secretly replaced troublesome Governors with cooperative ones over a period of a few months before the disaster. After some collaboration with Cade and a few other Master Heirs, they all decided that the Prophecy had stated that Merli'il would be the one to redeem Veon after the king was exiled for the Governor Removals, though they were Merli'il's doing, not Veon's.

But Deilia was the only one who contacted Merli'il and brought him home early. Her scouts on Malastare, where her father had traveled to potentially buy some starships for the Royal Navy's use, had voiced to her their concerns that Merli'il was being followed. Unable to identify her father's mysterious shadow and believing that she was saving him as the Prophecy required, she had him urgently return to Paneau.

The Rys'tihns were the Guardians of the Prophecy, and had been for centuries. The other Ghost Heirs knew what was necessary, but it was up to the Guardians to make the preliminary decisions. And on one of the most integral pieces of Paneau's history, Deilia felt as if she had failed. Merli'il hadn't survived to redeem Veon. Intent on saving him, she had actually killed him. And the Prophecy couldn't have meant Koril because Koril had no knowledge of the Removals, so Veon couldn't have been exiled in Koril's place.

But her twin brother had in a way already begun the redemption process. With the recording their father had made before his death that was broadcast for all Paneau to hear, the true mastermind behind the Removals had been revealed. Is that what the Prophecy had meant, that Merli'il had "survived" as a previously-recorded message to absolve Veon of fault? Maybe that's why things hadn't completely fallen apart just yet.

Bringing her thoughts back to the present, Jorro again placed his hand at the base of her neck, inclining his head to look into her eyes. She nodded again for his satisfaction and stood, patting her pockets to find her comlink.

"I'm going to find Cordira," she finally said defiantly. "I don't care what Jolani says, I think the kidnappings are related."

Jorro nodded quickly as he stood with her. "I do, too."

"Really?" she said with a bit of a skeptical edge. "You're not just agreeing with me because you think that's what I want to hear right now?"

"No, I think you're right. They were too close to be coincidences."

Deilia watched Jorro for any flinch in his expression, any sign of uncertainty, but the fellow Tyro Heir matched her firm gaze. She nodded after a moment and clicked her comlink on as she brought it up to her mouth.

"Mazzai, this is Sentinel 2 and Commander 2," she identified herself and Jorro to one of her mechanic agents. "Make sure my ship is ready. We're headed for Coruscant, too."


Though the deep indigo of a sparkling twilight descended peacefully upon the Jedi Temple, its outdoor funeral court, bounded by a burning torch at each of its four corners, lit up the darker side of the night. Jedi and civilians alike crowded the intimate but open platform where a simple stone pyre rose up from its center, and where the body of Jedi Master Aalon Noor lay, delicately wrapped in a sheer white cloth.

Despite standing closest to the pyre with Koril at her left side and Noor's fourteen- and seven-year-old sons on her right, Elena didn't dare look up. She stared at the stone floor in front of her, her dark brown robe's hood pulled over her head, unaware of how tightly she was holding Koril's hand. Only after his gentle protest did she realize her tension, and she released his hand as other Jedi Masters began to process toward the pyre, initiating the ceremony.

Knowing full well she'd most likely regret it, Elena stole a brief glance to her right. Tyler Noor, the oldest of Noor's children, looked truly sorrowful, though he had his father's powerful stance. Elena had never met the two boys until some time had passed since their mother, Noor's ex-wife, had drunkenly assaulted the Jedi Master and had been incarcerated. Rech had filled her in on the two, and she specifically remembered how distant Rech had said that Tyler had been with Noor upon their reunion. The Jedi Master had been forced by his ex-wife to choose his family or the Jedi Academy, and Tyler had seemingly refused to forgive his father for his abandonment. As tough as the teen had wanted to appear outwardly, the pain evident on his face betrayed and destroyed his resentment, leaving only the sadness of loss in its place.

The younger boy, Kyle, was understandably upset, as well. Though only months old when Noor had left, Kyle harbored no ill will towards his father and had been excited as ever to be reunited with him. Kyle's enthusiasm seemed to regenerate Noor, too, even though the aging Jedi Master had yet to face his most difficult challenges. The boy had barely begun to know his father, yet he had been utterly devastated by the news.

In the dim, flickering light from the torches on the perimeter, Elena watched Tyler wrap an arm around Kyle's shoulders, supporting his younger brother as the procession neared its end. Jedi Grand Master Luke Skywalker led the other Jedi Masters in the procession to the center, and Kihara Marelleck, Noor's lover and mother of his two-month-old daughter Danyielle, walked with Master Strone Lithess as they were the last to step towards the pyre.

Elena's heart sank as she looked across the court, noticing that the life and vitality in Kihara's eyes that had defined the headstrong Jedi was no longer visible. Kihara held a surprisingly quiet Dany in her arms, but her gaze never lifted from the stone floor, even as she walked. Rendered blind by a fire in her childhood, the Jedi Knight had grown accustomed to feeling her way through her environment with the Force. During her pregnancy, she had regained her sight, but as Kihara stood beside Master Lithess who was equally as expressionless, Elena felt the warmth of a single tear rolling down her cheek.

She immediately looked away, refusing to let any more fall. Beside her, Koril took her hand again, but she couldn't look at him, either. Thankfully the sound of Master Skywalker's footsteps distracted her thoughts as he slowly made his way to address the crowd.

"It is never easy to say goodbye to a friend," the Jedi Grand Master began softly. "It is even harder when considering what we have all collectively lost: a father, a friend, a mentor...and the galaxy as a whole has lost one of its most selfless servants and defenders. How fitting it was, then, that Aalon died as he lived, sacrificing himself to protect another."

Master Skywalker continued, but Elena heard little of it, and she didn't want to. Though she couldn't help it, her face flushed; she still felt responsible for Noor's death. She was sure Master Skywalker hadn't meant to sound accusatory, and surely he already knew the circumstances surrounding Noor's death and intended to be sensitive to those who had been involved, but the Jedi Grand Master's words had only added to her guilt.

After a few moments of a million thoughts running through her head, Elena felt Koril's hand tighten around hers, and she looked up to see Master Lithess, Noor's longtime friend, stepping up to the pyre with a torch in hand. The Jedi assembled began reciting the Jedi Code as Lithess touched the flame to the cloth, and Elena could only mouth the words as she watched.

"There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no death, there is the Force."

Lithess stepped back, and the rising flames illuminated his stony expression. The Chiss Jedi Master had never expressed emotion that Elena had ever seen, and even though he had lost his closest friend, he looked no different. Again, she had to look elsewhere, feeling a strange mix of anger and resentment flood her senses.

The whole scene on the platform that day ran through her head mercilessly as she stared into the rising flames. Lithess had been rushing to help her, not Noor. Noor's dying opponent whirled around on him and plunged her saber through him, just an instant after Noor had fatally sliced through her chest with his blade. Had Noor not been focused on preventing Elena's opponent from hitting her with a laughable Force Lightning bolt, or had Lithess reached his friend first instead of Elena, things would be so very different right now. Noor would be with her, tirelessly searching for Rech and Mand with her. He would know, better than anyone else, who might have been behind their kidnapping, since a few of the Tarthos, Mand's biological family, had been involved in it. He would know where to start, and he would've already had previous knowledge of the Tarthos' workings since he had fought so hard to find Mand after her disappearance five years ago.

But as far as Elena knew, everything Noor had uncovered hadn't been stored anywhere, except in his own mind. Without any of the information, she was having to start from scratch, and somehow she felt sure that her friends wouldn't have four years to wait for her to find them.

As the fire slowed to a dim glow, a few people began leaving silently, passing Noor's sons with a solemn bow. Elena watched many of the Jedi Masters leave moments later, but Master Amina Kanomin, with her husband Master Kyp Kanomin behind her, stopped in front of Elena and put a hand lightly on her shoulder. Amina said nothing, but Elena nodded as the Jedi Master searched her face.

"Thank you for your help, Master Kanomin," Elena said quietly. Amina nodded, too, and softened her expression.

"Of course." Elena said nothing in response, but always perceptive, Amina furrowed her brows in concern. "Elena..."

"Please," she said as she shook her head. "Don't." Amina had read her lingering guilt and was going to try to comfort her. Beside her, Koril squeezed her hand but she didn't shift her gaze away from the Jedi Master.

"He wouldn't have had it any other way," Amina continued at a whisper. She began another sentence, but Elena interrupted immediately.

"I would."

Though her expression fell, Amina patiently allowed her to continue. Elena was surprised to hear own shaking voice low with pain. "...I don't have three children. I'm not a Jedi Master, and I'm not an instructor at the Academy. No," she paused, "I would have had things much differently."

With a long sigh, Amina glanced at Koril then back at Elena, her eyes warm and sympathetic. She spoke in a low voice, too, her Coruscanti accent making her words seem more comforting. "There was always a reason for everything Aalon did. We might not have always known what it was, but it was always there. And there's one now. He saw your potential, Elena. He knew the great things you would be destined to do, and he was willing to do what was necessary to make sure you still had the chance to go on." Amina smiled wanly, putting a hand on Elena's shoulder again. "You will be a Jedi Master someday. I know it, and he knew it, too. Please, do not blame yourself. You're too valuable to the galaxy to lose sight of your purpose."

Elena nodded silently, though Amina's words had done little to alleviate her guilt. The Kanomins bowed slightly to them after a few moments, leaving just a few others who remained in the court. Elena glanced around to clear her eyes of moisture and saw three uniformed medics conversing with Master Skywalker. She watched them briefly, but she felt her stomach turn to ice when the Jedi Grand Master glanced at her and pointed towards her. After the Kanomins had left, Koril had put his arm around her shoulders, but he removed it and stepped beside her as the three medics made their way to her.

"Miss Lyran?" one of the older medics asked as they neared.

She nodded and found her voice after a moment. "Yes." Koril took her hand again.

"I'm Hal Helcer, and these are my assistants," he said as he indicated the two young men behind him. "We spoke the other day. We think we have a match to one of your descriptions."

Beside her, Koril glanced between the medics and her, confused. "Elena?"

Elena held her gaze on Hal, barely having the strength to answer Koril without looking at him. "These three work in the Laboratory Sector's morgue. I asked them to contact me...if they came across any unidentified persons matching Rech and Mand's descriptions."

Hal waited a moment, recognizing Elena's struggle. "Whenever you're ready."

"I'll go with you now," she answered immediately. "I need to know. I'm not going to wait." She finally turned her head to look at Koril, meeting his saddened gaze.

"I'm coming with you," he said softly. She nodded and took his hand, looking back at the smoldering pyre once more as she followed the three medics away from the remaining mourners and into a small shuttle awaiting them on the moonlit side of the Jedi Temple.