As the sound of the message pierced the air, an overwhelmed and exhausted Jido could barely keep his eyes open. The sudden and drastic reconnection to the Living Force had drained his energy and mental alertness. The weight of the message and the stress of what could be happening were not enough to keep the reclusive Jedi awake. On his dirty, uneven bed, Jido slouched over and fell into another uneasy, barely restful sleep. He frequently awoke, hopeful that everything had been a dream, only to be reminded each time by the sight of his transponder that it was, in fact, real. Thoughts of his Masters and friends from the Order filled Jido's mind, causing him to worry about them for the first time. He had always believed they could take care of themselves, but a disturbance like this surely had some kind of loss or ramifications. As the hours wore on and the pain faded, Jido was finally able to get some real sleep. He lay on his back, face up, and even the morning Galdosan sunlight burning through cracks and crannies in his dilapidated home couldn't disturb him. Exhaustion had taken over.

As the sun on Galdosa reached midday, Jido leaped out of bed at that familiar sound once again. After not hearing it for so long, its second echo caused Jido more anxiety than he'd ever felt. He extended his arm cautiously and picked up the transponder. His anxiety was almost extinguished when he saw a familiar face in the hologram. Jido watched as his old youngling classmate and now High Council member, Obi-Wan Kenobi, appeared. This brief relief was quickly dashed as the message filled the room.

"This is Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. I regret to report that both our Jedi Order and the Republic have fallen, with the dark shadow of the Empire rising to take their place. This message is a warning and a reminder for any surviving Jedi: trust in the Force. Do not return to the Temple. That time has passed, and our future is uncertain. Avoid Coruscant. Avoid detection. Be secret... but be strong. We will each be challenged: our trust, our faith, our friendships. But we must persevere and, in time, I believe a new hope will emerge. May the Force be with you, always."

Jido was suddenly unable to control his emotions. Fear and anger filled his mind. What could have happened? Who could have been responsible? Jido was unsure where to go, but his mind filled with the teachings of the Order. He decided his best course of action was to do something he often struggled with—connect with the Force through meditation. Jido was an average at best Force user. He was strong enough to be a Jedi Knight who could maybe use a mind trick in particular circumstances, but that was it. His Padawan phase had been fraught with much debate as several Masters passed him over in favor of younglings who had shown more natural Force abilities. Jido placed himself in a meditative pose and tried to connect with the Force. His eyes squeezed shut as he tried to force it, needing to control his emotions and seek guidance. Jido began to take several deep, yogic breaths. Over time, he felt his heart rate slow as he continued. His fear and anger started to dissolve as his mind cleared. After what felt like hours, his eyes remained closed, but the need to squeeze them shut disappeared. He started to relax and felt a warm, familiar sensation—a calmness as he connected with the Force, his mind able to separate from the disturbance he'd felt. His meditation brought on a vision of his former Master, Cin Drallig.

Drallig had been a perfect match for someone like Jido. Due to his own frustration with his inability to adhere to teachings of Force abilities, Jido's interest lay in combat, particularly lightsaber dueling. Master Drallig was more than capable of offering the teachings and challenges necessary to make Jido a formidable duelist. Upon completing his apprenticeship and being knighted, he was well-versed in all lightsaber combat styles and able to switch between several mid-duel. It seemed likely that he would be able to master all techniques the same as Masters Drallig and Windu.

These skills served him well when he was hastily called upon to partake in an emergency mission as a member of what came to be known as the Geonosis strike team. During the battle, the loss of so many Jedi, including his very close friend Virlila Rowjin, laid the groundwork for Jido's eventual exile.

Jido slipped deeper into meditation. The vision of his master became clearer. "If not the Force you choose to master, then your weapon," Jido heard in the familiar voice of his master. The fatherly tone soothed his emotions. Jido tried to call out to his master, but he kept hearing the same phrase: "If not the Force you choose to master, then your weapon." The vision kept repeating. Overall, Jido's meditation was successful, but long. When he finished, the sun was down, almost at dawn, indicating that it had been some time. Jido now had an idea of what to do. He held out his hand, and suddenly a stack of junk and paper crashed to the ground as a silver tube passed through it and landed in his hand. He pressed the activation button. Instead of the satisfying hum of a stable lightsaber, the weapon crackled and sparked. The blade emitted aggressive noises, varying in length before flashing, turning off, and then activating again. Jido's kyber crystal had been damaged when his ship crash-landed on this godforsaken planet. He knew that if he was going to do anything, he would need to have a weapon that functioned properly, and to do that, Jido would need to find a way off this planet.

Over the next few weeks, all Jido did was hunt, sell, meditate, and sleep. He was either at the market, hunting in the deep, lush forests of Galdosa, or meditating in his shack. Re-establishing a firm connection with the Force, along with collecting enough credits to secure transport out of this place, became Jido's primary focus. As a Jedi, his Force skills, though average, and his combat skills provided Jido with excellent hunting abilities. The game on the planet was bountiful. Nerfs, Barves, Florakeets, and many other creatures thrived on Galdosa, and Jido skillfully hunted, harvested, and sold them. Normally, he would have sold them for drinking money, but now he had a more meaningful purpose.

Jido's only contact with people was at the market. In the days following the sudden and intense disruption in the Force, Jido began to hear rumblings of an Empire replacing the Republic. This wasn't only significant because of how it related to Obi-Wan's message, but because Galdosa was so far on the Outer Rim that it was rarely noticed by the Republic, and news reached it slowly. The fact that word of an Empire was being muttered around so quickly put Jido's senses on high alert.

Late one afternoon as Jido was leaving the market after selling the last of his most recent bounty he walked along the quiet streets and headed off a dirt trail towards his shack. He entered the creaking and shabby building and proceeded to count the amount of credits he had. Believing that he counted a high enough number to get transport off the planet, the only problem was who he had to get it from.

Late one afternoon, as Jido was leaving the market after selling the last of his most recent bounty, he walked along the quiet streets and headed down a dirt trail toward his shack. He entered the creaking, shabby building and proceeded to count the amount of credits he had. Believing that he had enough to secure transport off the planet, he faced only one problem: who he would have to get it from.

Grek Thurl—a green-skinned Rodian with deep scars across his face who owned the Cantina where Jido would often drink. Jido hadn't been back to the Cantina since he sensed the great disturbance in the Force. He had also crossed Grek that night, breaking another glass, and he knew this could make things difficult. Jido collected his currency, grabbed his sputtering lightsaber, and headed to the Cantina, Grek's Oasis.

As Jido cautiously entered the Cantina, he slipped out of view of the familiar regulars. He concealed himself, moving slow but smooth along the wall, avoiding all and any interactions with the patrons. He made his way to a set of stairs that led up to Grek's office. Looking like he belonged, Jido confidently and quietly walked up the stairs. He made his way to Grek's office and placed his hand on the doorknob, but before he could twist it, his senses twitched. The thick, leathery hand of Korrak, a Vardon, distinctly and with purpose, landed on Jido's shoulder and squeezed.

"I thought you had more sense," Jido heard Korrak say in a low, vengeful voice.

"I'm here for business," Jido stated with firmness and vigor as he turned, showing Korrak he was no longer the drunken loner he had been. Korrak cocked his hand back and moved it forward as if to strike, but instead, he opened the door.

The door swung open, and Korrak kicked Jido with the bottom of his foot directly in the chest, causing him to lose his footing and tumble into Grek's office. Korrak aggressively entered. "Boss! Look who's back. He says he's here for business. Looking to sell you some glasses, I'm sure."

Grek, surprised by the entry, stood up with his hand on his blaster. "Korrak! What the… Oh, Cell," Grek said as he realized what was happening. A smirk appeared on his green face as he walked around his desk. He reached down, grabbed Jido's hair, and pulled his face up so he was looking at him.

"So, to what do I owe the pleasure? Come to pay me for the damage you caused?" Grek snarled, referring to the glass Jido had knocked over the last time he was in the Cantina.

"He says he's here for business," Korrak stated as he gripped his stun rod, hoping to lay a beating on Jido for the embarrassment he'd caused him before.

"Hah! What business? A drunk like you?" Grek scoffed.

Jido stood up and pulled out a small bag filled with Galactic credits. He tossed it on Grek's desk. "I need transport, as soon as possible."

Grek grabbed the bag and sat down. He opened it, intrigued. He dumped out the credits and started to laugh. "You'd need to dou—" His sentence was cut off as Jido revealed another bag.

"There's more where that came from," Jido said.

"Hmmm." Grek turned his head and leaned back in thought. "Where are you going?" he asked.

"Ilum," Jido responded.

"What could you possibly want on Ilum?" Grek retorted.

"Our business is the transport; my business is Ilum," Jido said in a cold, firm tone.

"Very well. Two days. Be back here at sunrise," Grek said, looking at Korrak and giving him a nod to indicate he should see Jido out. As he was about to walk away, Jido reached into his pocket, pulled out a credit, and threw it on the table. There was a quiet pause as Grek looked at the credit and then back to Jido.

"For the glass," Jido said before walking out and heading back to his shack, leaving Grek slightly taken aback by the former drunk's boldness.

Jido spent the next two days either in meditation or trying in vain to fix the fractured kyber crystal in his lightsaber, to no avail. As the hours counted down, Jido anxiously waited for it to be close to sunrise and thus be able to travel off of Galdso for the first time since his crash landing. He left everything, taking only the clothes on his back, his finicky lightsaber, the credits required, and his Jedi transponder.

He made his way to the Cantina, where he saw Grek's ship and several of his cronies, including Korrak. Jido approached with caution, but Korrak, and the others for that matter, showed no anger or tension. Jido was guided onto the smallish ship, which included a cockpit, sleeping quarters, a kitchen/dining area, and a lavatory.

Jido was led to the dining area, a small, dark space with a beat-up table and four stools. Grek sat there and motioned for Jido to have a seat. Jido couldn't quite put his finger on it, but something felt off. Why was Grek on the ship? Why were all his muscle men here? Shouldn't they be guarding the Cantina? Grek studied Jido, who he still knew as "Cell." Jido scanned the room, seeing small appliances, tools, and dinnerware. Grek opened his mouth and said, "Payment?" with his fist clenched.

Jido slowly reached to his beltline and pulled out a small bag filled with the remaining credits for the trip. He gently set it down on the table. "Is there something else?" he asked, his senses starting to tingle more.

Grek tilted his head slightly and grimaced. "It's going to cost more than that," he said as he slid a piece of paper across the table. Jido looked at Grek, then down at the notice in front of him. His heart sank.

REWARD: TRAITOR JEDI KNIGHTS WANTED*

Jido kept his cool as he read the notice, describing how to spot a Jedi and that they were wanted dead or alive. Jido looked back up at Grek. "I don't see what this has to do with me," he said, keeping his tone neutral and his voice steady.

"You're a fugitive. It explains everything—how a worthless drunk like you was able to suddenly handle my two best men like they were nothing," Grek scoffed back. "And that!" he added, pointing to Jido's lightsaber handle.

Jido remained calm on the outside. "I assure you, I'm no Jedi, and as far as credits go, that's all I have," he responded, his eyes fixed on Grek. "I know you are many things, Grek, some of which are very unpleasant, but I believed you to be a man of your word," he added, refusing to back down.

As the tension built, there was a sudden swift motion. Jido ducked his head down, barely dodging a stun rod that was swung at him full force. The swing was so aggressive that Korrak, who was wielding it, lost balance with the momentum and fell over, knocking a stool aside. Jido sprang up at the same time as Grek, each of them drawing their weapon of choice—Grek a blaster and Jido his lightsaber, igniting it, the erratic blue blade overwhelming the atmosphere in the room.

To Be Continued… DUN DUN DUUUUUN!*