The concussion bow Rayf carried felt as familiar as the right hand he held it in. He tensed slightly, feeling each rough surface for reassurance. Every one was unique, built by a skilled craftsman, and the combination of wood and stone was rich with artistic carvings which had smoothed under his impulsive touches. It smelled like home, as the stone that had been used in its manufacture was taken from the caves that his people had inhabited for centuries, if not longer.

All the other members of his scouting team were older than he was, but that was to his advantage. He climbed nimbly up the ragged path that led to the surface, the narrow confines illuminated by the large projectorlamp that Frembi carried. There was no sign of motion—every few generations they had to go through each tunnel and clear out the digger moles, lest the tunnels lose integrity and collapse, and every member of the Ysanna knew the signs to look for.

But for weeks, the scouts had reported catching glimpses of motion in the dark, and finally Chief Okko had ordered them to begin a full-scale survey of the entire cave network. A digger mole infestation could be disastrous if it was allowed to spread—it threatened both their food sources as well as their access to the surface—and there were still stories told of the trade party that had been killed generations before when the entire cave network collapsed in a series of cascading shocks, the story carried to the Ysanna by one of Rayf's own great-great-grandmothers.

Worse still were the quiet whispers, the wonders about the other communities which had vanished without even so much as a trace.

They were nearing the surface now, the passageway widening and leveling out. Rayf jogged ahead as he finished climbing over the last ascent. At the end of the passage was the well-hidden and carefully maintained exit that his ancestors had constructed, keeping the dangers of Ossus out and the people of the Ysanna inside and safe. He did not begin the laborious process of opening the door. It had been nearly two years since he and his sister Jem had been brought to the surface, to the ruins of the ancient civilizations above, and lashed to the tree at the center of Ascension, to truly awaken the gifts of their blood. He could still feel the power that had come to him after the Ritual, the magic that enhanced his senses.

Magic that spoke to him in the back of his mind, in his instincts, in the quiet between thoughts. He could feel it there, between his memories, in the dark of the network of caves that he knew so well. His people used it to be talented hunters, tracking and exterminating digger mole infestations, their animal minds bright enough to be revealed in the dark. He closed his eyes, blotting out the illumination from the projectorlamp as Frembi finally caught up with him. Sandals's mind was bright in the dark, as were the minds of the rest of their company. Far beneath, he could even feel the rest of his tribe, the flickerlights of his sister and the Chief.

But there was no digger mole. Not a one.

And yet…

He moved without thought. His concussion bow snapped into his hand. In the same motion that brought the bow into his hand he nudged the charge into place, his left hand gripping the end of weapon, aiming into the dark. Frembi made a surprised sound, stumbling, the projectorlamp pointed into the ground as he stumbled, but Rayf's eyes were still closed even as he fired.

With his magic he gripped the charge that erupted from the weapon. His grip slackened with each passing fraction of a second as the distance between him and the charge grew, but he had not taken the time to aim the concussion bow properly, which meant he had to guide the charge to its target. He strained in the single heartbeat, forcing the charge to curve, not knowing even what he was aiming the weapon at as he followed his instincts—

There was a screech. It was not a human sound, or an animal one, but a shrill electronic wailing.

Sandals stumbled up beside him, the projectorlamp swinging in the direction of the sound. He and Rayf stared at their quarry.

It was metal, clearly made by sentient hands, not nature. It had a head that almost looked alive, oblong and circular, with large circular shapes implanted upon it like large eyes, which was attached to a slightly-larger short cylinder, which itself was attached to grasping limbs that dangled beneath it. Rayf's charge had struck it dead center, and was lodged deep in one of those large, artificial eyes. The wound sent out sparks of illumination as the creature flailed.

It did not have any legs that Rayf could see—it did not look like it could walk upon its grasping limbs—but even as he watched it struggled upwards, making plaintive electronic sounds.

Rayf pointed his concussion bow at it, sharing a quick glance with Frembi.

"[It's not a digger mole.]"

"[What is it?]"

That was a rhetorical question only. He had no idea what it was, and he knew Frembi didn't either.

"[What are we going to do with it?]"

"You've been to Ossus before?"

Kam didn't know what he'd really been expecting. Asking Tionne questions had variable responses, ranging from an excess of information that could spout for hours, to a distracted summary that only amounted to a few words (often set to music).

"Yeah," she mused, thrumming on her double-viol. "Not that long ago, really, back when I still had Lore Seeker." She sighed, the music suddenly somber. "Damn Imps."

That much Kam had already known. Cray and Nichos' project to find ancient Jedi artifacts had been inspired by a similar offhand comment Tionne had made, some months after the Battle of Corellia. Luke had been all for it—if only, Kam thought, to give Cray and Nichos a project to work on that would make them happy—but none of them had ever had any expectations about what they might find. By Tionne's account, it had been millennia since the Jedi had evacuated the world, and the Empire had certainly known of its existence. When Kam had been an Inquisitor, it would have been the kind of place he would have been deployed to destroy anything of value.

"How dangerous is the surface?"

"It's okay if you're not there for too long," Tionne said, still distractedly plucking the strings of her double-viol. "There are plenty of things living on the surface, but the radiation levels are still high enough that an extended stay on the surface without precautions will boil your cells inside out… at least in places."

That, Kam thought, was probably artistic license. Probably. But it wasn't all artistic license, and the inhospitality of the surface was the only reason it was plausible that there might still be something on Ossus to be found.

"Plenty of huge lightning storms too… I remember when I was landing, I had to wait for storms to stop. The whole sky was full of lightning. Those storms are nasty, and will spit acid over the surface too. Those droids Cray built must be tough to live down there." She looked over, her distant expression coming close once again. "Hard to believe someone human is living down there."

"The droid was underground when it sent its last transmission," Kam pointed out.

"I wonder how long they've been there," Tionne said thoughtfully. "Have they been there for a decade? A century? Longer?" She tilted her head at him. "Maybe they've been there all along and they're descendents of the Jedi who lived on Ossus before the catastrophe."

"That seems unlikely."

"Mmmm… true." Tionne's excitement at the possibility had not dissipated in the face of his skepticism. "It would be pretty great though. Imagine all they could tell us!"

Kam smiled. Tionne's enthusiasm was endlessly infectious. "I'm going to set us down near where the droid went missing," he said. "And I'm going to make lots of noise while doing so. I want anyone down there to know we're coming."

"Surprises aren't always fun," Tionne agreed cheerfully.

Rayf and Frembi peered out from the cave entrance.

They knew what starships were, of course. Their ancient myths: how their ancestors had first come to Ossus in such vehicles, forging a beautiful and prosperous civilization which had been destroyed in a single cataclysmic day. The only survivors had hidden underground, creating a new civilization, smaller and less grand but nonetheless persisting, hiding from the threats that still plagued the surface: lightning storms, invisible poisons, dangerous creatures, and the enemies from the sky.

They came to the surface rarely, to visit the place of Ascension. There the magic was strongest, and the mighty tree—a single living tree in an otherwise desolate land, as old as their civilization if not older—was said to speak to the open-minded, helping them unlock their magicks. Rayf and his sister Jem had visited it themselves, some years ago.

The experience had been… enlightening. He had used his magic to try to speak to the tree, as he and his sister sometimes were able to exchange thoughts. There had been no words in response, merely the sense of presence and energy and wisdom. It had been welcoming, accepting Rayf as a peer, and guiding his mind to be able to see and feel even more. He and his sister had returned to their caves stronger, awakened to the potential in their magic.

Potential to see and know and reveal… and potential to fight. Since then, Rayf had rarely missed with his concussion bow, his projectiles eerily accurate.

He clutched that concussion bow now, as he and Frembi debated what to do. The ship had passed overhead three times, making no effort to hide its presence, and was now descending towards the ground, slowly… directly over the place of Ascension.

He grabbed Frembi's arm. "Go get the others!" he ordered harshly. Then he was sprinting across the ground, a dismayed Frembi crying out angrily behind him.

The tree had to be protected!

The Lambda-class shuttle Syrena—which Mara Jade had borrowed from Chimaera when she departed from Carida and never given back—coasted in a circular path as Kam looked for a good landing location.

"We're not far from where Cray's droids reported finding ancient ruins," Tionne suggested. "When I came here to look around, it was…" she paused, looking both at the map and out the shuttle's viewports, "about thirty kilometers in that direction," she pointed ahead. "There were a lot of ruins. Statues and pillars from fallen structures, and a bunch of lizard-like creatures skittering about." She frowned. "The radiation levels over there were higher than they are here, so I didn't stay long."

"Well, there don't seem to be any serious electrical storms right now. We should land before that changes," Kam decided. "I think we've circled enough times that anyone down there will know we're here." He asked the computer to select a good landing location, and it promptly provided one.

The land beneath was flat, with mountains in the distance and small circular plants appearing intermittently across the landscape. Enormous ruins were visible, with the largest ruins present in the direction Tionne had pointed. Buildings had long since fallen to rubble, and while erosion had whittled away at them their craftsmanship was still obvious.

Kam brought Syrena's wings up for the landing, slowly bringing it down towards the ground. It settled with a soft bump as the shuttle's landing gear flexed.

They walked down the shuttle's ramp, an awkward pair. Kam wore his full Jedi robes: a brown cloak, fluttering with each step, covering trimmer, close-fitting but comfortable white robes, finished with a brown belt. But unlike Luke, Kam, and some of the other Jedi, Tionne had not adopted the outfit. She still preferred her own more casual travel wear, silvery pants and a matching tunic with a light armored brown cuirass.

Both of them carried similar blue lightsabers—both weapons were currently unlit and hanging from their belts—though Tionne rarely actually used hers.

The air of Ossus was dry and tasted faintly of ozone. Even standing there he could sense the electricity in the air, and far above he could see flashes of lightning in the sky. Far above, lightyears away and yet still an imposing presence, was the incandescent gas of the Cron Drift.

Kam shaded his eyes with his hand, peering in every direction. "The ruins of the city are close?"

"Relatively," Tionne agreed. "But if we wanted to go there, we should take the shuttle. It would be a long walk."

Kam checked his datapad. "Cray and Nichos' droids reported finding what appeared to be buried ruins in this area, and something metallic. And the one that went missing went missing…" he paused, letting the datapad confirm their location and overlay the information with the map they'd made while landing. "About two klicks that way," he pointed.

"Let's find that landmark the droids noticed," Tionne suggested. "The tree? I don't remember seeing anything like that tree when I visited the area before."

Together, they walked across the dry ground, following the datapad's guidance. The ground was dry but not completely infertile; they passed numerous gourds growing in the dirt, and Kam caught sight of numerous quick-moving lizard-like creatures in his peripheral vision, darting between the shadows cast by large stones.

It was subtle, almost sneaking up on him. Tionne said something first. "Do you feel that?" she whispered.

The Force swelled ahead of them. Kam could feel it, increasingly intense with each step he took. A sense of presence and … welcome? Anticipation?

"It's strongest in the ground," Tionne murmured conspiratorially.

He frowned and looked down, concentrating. She was right… in the ground beneath his feet he could feel enormous tendrils pulsing in the force, radiating outward from a center point, almost like pathways he could follow to the source. He quickened his pace, Tionne keeping up with a light jog behind him.

At the top of a distant, small hill, was a tree. It curled up in a spiraling shape, without the long, extended branches that would be typical to most trees, but unmistakably a tree nonetheless. "That's the tree?"

Tionne nodded.

There was no doubt. The presence that Kam felt in the Force was radiating outwards from the tree. The intensity of that presence in the ground beneath his feet was probably the tree's root system, extending in every direction for multiple kilometers.

"Hafta cha rakunto!"

Kam spun, his hand dropping to his lightsaber.

It was a boy. At best eighteen seasons, he wore a bandanna around his forehead, spiky black hair swept to the side in something that might be fashion—or might just be the product of the local weather. His outfit was light, easy to wear for travel, with items festooned around it attached to belts and straps.

In his hand, he held a weapon Kam didn't recognize. It wasn't pointed at the two Jedi—not yet—but the wary, slightly-fearful expression in the boy's face told Kam that could change in an instant.

"Sheff svabas nurra, tontallan?"

"Can you understand him?" Tionne asked nervously.

"Nope," Kam replied. "Do you speak basic?" he called, not really hopeful.

"Sheff tlottoon!" The youth's hand twitched, the weapon he carried swinging a half-centimeter more towards Kam. In turn, Kam's fingers flexed, his lightsaber swinging on his belt towards his palm. "Te fonn gavw bvais!"

"He's not alone," Tionne warned.

Kam was about to ask what she meant, but then he could feel it too. More presences, like the boy's, advancing in their direction from the distant mountains. About a dozen in total, and mounted on some kind of pack animal, moving fast. Kam relaxed, letting his lightsaber go slack on his belt, and raised both hands. "We mean you no harm," he called, trying to make his tone reassuring. He wasn't sure if it worked or not—he had a lot more experience being intimidating than being reassuring, after all.

Beside him, Tionne waved a hand cheerfully. "Hi! We're here looking for Jedi stuff!"

The boy's head tilted to the side, confused. "Jedi?"

"Do you know that word?" Tionne said. "Jedi?" She gestured at herself and Kam. "We're Jedi. Jedi."

The rumble of beasts over dirt presaged the arrival of the boy's people by a few seconds. Massive creatures, four-legged with armor and saddles, each one with a rider armed with a projectile weapon or a spear. They were all dressed much like the boy, but unlike the boy they also wore massive tan-and-yellow masks. Multilayered to appear like some kind of carapace, they had yellow eyes, a stylized mouth, and extended ear-like protrusions on the top.

They reminded Kam a bit of his own Jensaarai helm, which he had left on Coruscant.

The leader's mount came to a stop. The boy they'd been… negotiating with… turned and ran towards the riders. "Okko fnabbu!" he called. "Knee burona fenta cha trukvo!"

The leader did not turn towards him. He lifted his left arm high into the sky. "Poonta krova slyptudd knuuto!"

Weapons snapped up in the hands of the riders on either side of the leader. The stocks of their weapons braced against their shoulders to deal with recoil, Kam had just enough time to sweep Tionne into protection behind him before he snapped his blue lightsaber to life.

She ducked down, fumbling with her lightsaber as Kam casually disintegrated incoming projectiles with the plasma of his lightsaber blade. "Projectiles are always superior to blaster weapons for fighting Jedi," he recalled an Inquisitor saying in early training. "If only because they cannot be deflected back."

"Nekouda!" the chief called, and the weapons fire subsided.

ENOUGH.

The word pounded against Kam's skull, almost driving him off his feet. Before him, each beast's rider clutched at his head, the boy who had arrived first collapsing to his knees with a pained cry.

The Force swelled around them, pulsing through the ground, and the tree shifted. Roots twisted and untwisted as it swelled upwards, growing taller. Kam turned towards it and his mouth dropped open in astonishment.

The tree had eyes. A pair of them, like so many sentient species, two-thirds up its massive bark frame, staring down at him and the others, swirling blue arranged into something that was almost a face. Roots swung around, moving like free limbs.

ENOUGH.

The repetition was not as trying as the tree's introduction had been. The riders and boy had recovered and were staring, open-mouthed, at the tree. Clearly, they were just as surprised as Kam was at this sudden revelation.

But there was one amongst them who was not. "Oh! Master Ood!" Tionne said cheerfully. "You're still alive!"

Kam was turning to stare at her, when—

It has been a long time since I sensed the presence of another Jedi! I am Ood Bnar. A bit older and wiser. I was only a thousand when I recorded my prophecies in the Holocron. The tree was still uncoiling, still reaching its full height, but now it loomed over them, clearly looking down at them. Kam could feel it probing gently at him in the Force, though the tree's—Ood Bnar's—attention was locked upon Tionne.

That was well and good, because Kam was still trying to get past his confusion. A Jedi Master? Here? Now? Alive?

Tionne's composure was typically unbroken. "We had a Holocron for a time," Tionne said sadly. "But Exar Kun damaged it and it never recovered."

Kam had never seen a tree look surprised before. Exar Kun?

All around them, the riders were sliding off their beasts. Rayf collapsed to his knees next to Kam, staring up at the tree. Beside him, the leader stared at the tree and then at Kam. "Tsan mch sonta Jedi!" Before Kam knew what was happening, he found himself wrapped in a bear hug. "Sonta Jedi! Jedi!"

"I was right!" Tionne told Kam smugly. "I told you they'd be here!" She sniffed smugly. "And to think you were worried about surprises. Surprises are always fun!"

"Are you sure I cannot be of help to you, Mistress Jade? I have been programmed with child-rearing techniques derived from over three hundred manuals. The oldest is over three thousand years old, and the most recent was just published last month. According to the programming manual, it is the foremost—"

Mara Jade reached around Threepio's back, curled two fingers, and pulled. The droid went limp, the light going out of his eyes.

Artoo made a burbling, mournful sound.

"He's fine," Mara muttered, shifting her posture so that the sleeping Betrys could stay comfortable against her chest, and carefully keeping her voice low. "But you would think that one of those manuals would include a clear instruction to be quiet when a baby is sleeping."

Artoo's response came in a whistle, the translated words scrolling across Tempered Mettle's controls. HIS CHILD-REARING PROTOCOLS ARE ONLY ACTIVE IF REQUESTED.

"Who made that decision? The developer?"

THREEPIO'S SERVICE LOG INDICATES THAT THE CHANGE WAS MADE BY CAPTAIN SOLO.

"I suppose Solo didn't want Threepio doing his job," Mara said with a shrug. She looked back when she heard the slide of metal against metal.

Luke approached out of the ship's galley with a smile, sliding into the co-pilot's seat next to her. He leaned over, pressed a fleeting kiss to Betrys' head, then a second one to Mara's cheek. "I've been reviewing the data from Kam and Tionne. The atmospheric conditions on that part of Ossus are suitable for human life, if somewhat unpleasant. The treatment Cilghal devised will eliminate any negative effects, even for Betrys."

Fiery overprotectiveness swelled in Mara's gut. She trusted Cilghal—the healer's expertise, both with and without the Force was proven—but this was her daughter they were talking about. Betrys was tiny, and vulnerable…

Her husband's lips pressed at the corner of her mouth lightly. She could feel his reassurance through the Force.

"And from what Kam said, Master Ood—" Luke used the title, but there was a slight hesitation when he uttered the word that Mara caught, even distracted as she was "—indicated that he wanted to meet the new Jedi."

"She's not a Jedi," Mara mumbled. "She's a baby."

"But we're Jedi," Luke countered. "And she's our family."

She eyed him skeptically. "I can feel your uncertainty, you know. What are you going to do if Master Ood declares that by seniority he's the new leader of the Jedi Order, and that Jedi aren't allowed to have spouses or children?"

His hand slipped into hers. "I'm not sure," he admitted. "When Ben left, before we met, he told me that I was the first of the new Jedi. Master Ood is an old Jedi, in every way imaginable. According to Tionne he was made a Master of the Order four thousand years ago. Their practices would be different not just from ours, but from the Jedi of Ben's generation, too." He shrugged. "But I don't think he would make that kind of power grab, and even if he did I don't think any of our Order would be interested in following him if he tried."

"Optimistic of you." She turned towards him, her eyes levied on him. "If I am made to choose between the Jedi and us," she said flatly, "I will choose us every single time."

Luke smiled sadly. "Me too," he admitted. "Does that make us bad Jedi?"

"I told you before. What it means to be a Jedi is whatever you think it should mean." She turned his hand over in hers. "Tell me honestly. Reach out into the Force. Listen to it. Let it guide your thoughts, and then you tell me—does her existence feel wrong to you?"

Luke swallowed. "No. But—"

"No buts, Skywalker. Remember what Master Vodo told us on Yavin. All we need is the Force."

But even as Luke accepted that declaration, Mara's own worries needled away at her gut. She remembered standing before Roganda with her lightsaber in hand, unable to fight the way she needed to fight because she was too terrified for her then-unborn child. She remembered that her best friend had lost her arm to save them both from that moment of paralysis.

For most of her life, Mara had always been sure. Sure of herself, of her cause, of her righteousness. Doubts ruthlessly stamped out, regrets replaced with future objectives.

There were times she missed that.

The party that descended Tempered Mettle's forward landing ramp consisted of four people and two droids.

Luke and Mara went first, with Betrys held in a carrier against Luke's chest. He inhaled deeply, feeling Betrys' distaste at the scent of ozone. The sky above them flashed with lightning, coursing through the sky above, clouds gleaming. Farther above, the multicolored gaseous Cron Drift was dimly illuminated, even with Ossus' sun casting light.

Behind them, Artoo wheeled down, whistling an insult at his companion while his tiny sensor dish extended and began to twirl.

"Well I never!" objected Threepio. "I'm sure I'll be able to translate, I am fluent in over six million forms of communication, including many languages that date back to the Old Republic."

Half a step beside them, her form hidden in a voluminous robe and barely taller than Artoo, was Glimarkh. In the Force, Luke could feel the intensity of the Noghri's attentiveness, but it would have been obvious even absent the Force. The Noghri's gaze swept over the desolate landscape.

"It would be better if we had additional security," she hissed softly. "Snipers could be hidden on the ridgeline."

"Kam and Tionne assure me that there are no threats here."

The Noghri's assent was unhappy but deferential. "As you wish."

"I have the ship's beckon call," Mara reminded Glimarakh. "And I'll leave its engines warm, just in case."

"That would be wise." Glimarakh stepped around to put herself between Luke and the distant ridge.

Like Leia, Luke wasn't comfortable with a Noghri bodyguard, but while the Noghri had listened to his objections, ultimately she had ignored them. Technically, Glimarakh had been assigned to protect Betrys, not Luke or Mara, which made the idea more palatable to Luke, but he still didn't like it.

Mara had been much more pragmatic, pointing out that they had a choice: let the Noghri guard them, or forbid it… in which case Glimarakh would do it anyway, but less effectively and with less personal comfort.

"Oh my, I do believe that is Master Kam," Threepio said, raising his arm into the air to wave stiffly. "Master Kam! Over here!"

The airpseeder coming towards them kicked up some dirt as it glided in the air towards them. It came to a stop, and the Jedi-robe clad Kam jumped down, towering over the rest of them. "You got here quick," he said with a small smile.

"Negotiator is on its way," Luke replied, "but Tyria and Captain Rogriss had to finish their mission on Toprawa first."

"Get in, I'll take you to see Master Ood."

They climbed into the airspeeder. It was uncomfortably tight with all of them, and Artoo whistled something rather than getting in. "Good idea," Mara told the droid. "Return to the ship. You can keep up the scanners, just in case a storm kicks up."

Artoo whooped his assent, planted his wheels down, and started rolling back towards Tempered Mettle.

"Don't get lost without me!" called Threepio.

That elicited a rude blatt, a spin of Artoo's dome, a side to side shuffle and a series of unintelligible whistles before Artoo resumed his trip back to the ship.

"Why I never," Threepio grumbled. "You know he always gets lost without me, Master Luke" he said to Luke.

"Of course, Threepio," Luke agreed good-naturedly.

"You'll have plenty to do in a few minutes," Kam said, looking back at Threepio. "Assuming you can translate with the locals. Tionne is making progress, but it's slow."

"Oh yes, Master Kam," Threepio said enthusiastically. "I am fluent in over six million forms of communication, and I can assure you that even if I have not been programmed with the one used by the people of this planet, I will be able to decipher it in only a few days. First contact is not my primary expertise, but I do have experience…"

Luke let Threepio's explanation and assurances fade out, concentrating instead on Ossus. The world had been devastated, but it remained strong in the Force, and Luke could feel it in the ground beneath him. There was history here. This had been the home to the Jedi once, and it was as if he could feel echoes of their presence. Monastics and knights, horticulturalists and astronavigators… the Jedi of Ossus had been a diverse bunch, united by their creed and their shared devotion to the Force.

"Cray's droids found a cache of old lightsabers," Kam said. "They were buried beneath Master Ood." He shook his head. "They're thousands of years old, Luke, but some of them still ignited. It was like they were waiting for us."

"And Master Ood?" Mara asked. "Was he waiting for us, too?"

"He has said as much," Kam said cautiously. "Though I don't think he knew what he was waiting for precisely. Just that the time was right for him to awake, and that he was needed now."

"He was… hibernating?" At Kam's nod, Mara frowned. "Needed for what?"

Kam shrugged. "That's a question for him—or for the Force, maybe."

Many questions. Luke took a nervous breath. "For years I was hoping to find a Jedi who could tell me more about the ways of the old Order. I wanted guidance before I started my own. But now, after we have started our own, with its own practices and expectations… now we find the Jedi I was looking for." Luke looked at Kam. "Do you think…"

"He seems curious about us. I don't think it's with the intent to be judgmental. Luke, he's a Jedi. We are Jedi too. We're all in service to the Will of the Force. How much could we really disagree?"

Luke could feel Mara's skepticism, and though his sister wasn't present, he could feel Leia's too. "Just because two people both have good intentions doesn't mean they'll agree," she had told him, right before the negotiations with Grand Moff Ferrouz had begun in earnest. "It doesn't mean they won't fight."

There had been minor disagreements among the new Jedi. Corran often had perspectives that clashed with the others, for instance. Even when they didn't disagree, they would view problems differently—Tionne always brought a unique perspective. Those kinds of differences could be good, bringing a diversity of opinion and view—Leia often opined about why the diversity of the New Republic Senate was an inherent advantage over the uniformity of the old Imperial Moffs, almost all of whom were educated at the same schools, from the same planets, and were all human—because it made the Senate less prone to miss things that might be obvious from another perspective. But those differences could fracture into deeper divisions, too.

Even the Jedi Order of old had splintered, on occasion.

Mara rested her hand on his knee, and repeated to him something else Leia had told him, this more recently. "But if we go in looking for conflict we're more likely to find it," she reminded him.

The words were not Mara's. Her job was to be the suspicious one. She was just reminding him of Leia's words, providing him reassurance… so that he would go in hopeful.

It worked, too. He smiled at her, that smile slowly grinning as his worries faded and were replaced with a budding exuberance. They were going to meet a Jedi Master.

Mara patted his knee again, a small, amused smile on her lips. That's better, he heard her think.

It wasn't long before Kam was throttling the engine on the speeder back. The tree in the distance was prominent, but not particularly tall—it did not tower in the sky like trees on Kashyyyk did, for instance. But it gleamed in the Force, and as they got nearer, Luke became even more aware of the way its Force presence laced through the ground underneath them, stretching outwards erratically, permeating the soil.

Luke blinked in surprise, but his eyes were not deceiving him. As they approached the tree twisted, seeming to turn towards them. An intense feeling if curiosity came to Luke through the Force—curiosity and joyful welcome.

Luke exhaled, his fears starting to subside, replaced by a much preferred feeling: his own curiosity. How long had he sought a Jedi? How disappointed had he been by the reality of C'baoth, and revelation of hidden Jedi after hidden Jedi, each slain by the Inquisitors? Here was a Master, on par with Ben and Yoda, an ancient, knowledgeable one, alive and eager.

Against his chest, Betrys made a small sound, her head twisting around, big green eyes peering out, wide with echoing curiosity.

Welcome, they heard together, the message echoing through the Force, a word that Luke could almost taste on the wind. I am afraid I can no longer travel to meet others, and am grateful to have my kin come to me.

They approached as a trio, with Kam standing behind, beside a smiling Tionne. The tree had eyes that peered down at them, its leaf-less limbs arching some to cast a bit of comforting shade. Above them, the sky still shimmered with flashes of lightning—on Ossus, Luke knew that lightning never ended.

There were others around too, the natives that Kam had called "Ysanna." They clustered on mounts, talking excitedly, showing each other lightsabers and pointing at the tree and Luke and Mara. But Luke's attention was, for the moment, entirely locked on the Jedi Master before him.

"I am Luke Skywalker," he introduced himself. "This is my wife, Mara Jade, and our daughter Betrys. Mara and I are Jedi Knights."

Welcome to Ossus, Jedi Knight Luke Skywalker and Jedi Knight Mara Jade, Ood Bnar's voice sang through the force, melodic and deep. I am Ood Bnar, Jedi Master of the Order, Librarian of the Great Jedi Library. The tree twisted some, limbs extending as if to point at the horizon on either side. This was the home of the Jedi Order, long ago, before Exar Kun destroyed it. Much is gone, but I protect what remains.

Luke found himself unsure what to say. He had spent years looking for the remains of the Jedi, searching and finding nothing but destroyed temple after destroyed temple, corpse after corpse. Ossus was both, with all the Jedi who had fallen here millenia ago, and all the ruins of the temples laid to dust in the ground beneath their feet. And yet… here it was. Everything he had been searching for.

Emotion tightened his throat, a sudden welling of near-tears. "I have been looking for you," he managed to say.

And I have been waiting for you, Jedi Skywalker… first of the new. Come and sit beneath my shade, and let me tell you stories of what was, and you tell me your vision of what is to be.

Slowly, the three of them approached. A sense of stillness descended as they did—Luke could hear the sudden quiet as, all around them, the Ysanna and Jedi who had been working with Threepio to establish communications all turned to look, leaving Threepio's confused commentary the only thing audible. The wind still tasted of electricity, with occasional flashes of lightning in the sky above, coursing from cloud to cloud.

Once, long ago, Ossus was the center of the Jedi Order, Luke heard Master Ood's voice in his head, the tree's strange eyes peering down at him as he carefully descended to sit among the tree's roots. Artists and farmers, scientists and knights.

"We don't know as much about the past of the Jedi as I would like," Luke said. He handed Betrys off to Mara. She gingerly found a place to lean her back against, then settled Betrys down on her lap, looking awkward all the while. Clearly, sitting with her back to a sentient, Jedi Master tree was as odd to her as it was for him.

Tionne has told me of the tragedies of the Jedi. There was a long pause, a sense of sorrow that permeated outwards, an ancient longing for the restoration of something long lost. It saddens me that the tragedies of my era were not the end of suffering, but it does not surprise me. The Dark Side is a powerful lure. It will ever attract the weak of conscience or imagination.

"It's our responsibility to guard against it," Luke said. His tone was certain, but in his chest there was still a hint of uncertainty. What did guarding against the Dark Side mean exactly? Did it mean relinquishing everything … and everyone?

What the Jedi are and what the Jedi Order is has always been in motion, Master Bnar told him. Every generation has its own idea. Every Jedi has their own way of following the Force. But there was a sense of amusement in his words… an amusement tempered with seriousness. You have a specific question, Jedi Skywalker. I can hear it, swirling in your thoughts just beneath your words. Anxious you are to ask it, because you fear what I might say, but that anxiety will become fear if it is left unaddressed for too long.

Luke glanced at Mara. She shrugged at him, but he could see in her expression the seriousness and commitment of the words she had told him earlier. "I will choose us every single time."

"The Jedi Order of my father's generation had rules," Luke said carefully. "Rules specifically against marriage and children."

Rules you have broken. There was no condemnation in Ood Bnar's voice. I cannot speak for the Jedi who lived millennia after my time. A Jedi Master I may be, but I was a Master of an Old Order, from another time. All I can offer you is my knowledge of an Order long gone.

"I would be grateful if you would share that wisdom with me," Luke said, his hand snaking to rest atop Mara's. She turned her palm over surreptitiously. It was unlikely the Ysanna or Jedi would see the gesture of affection from so far away, after all.

There have been Jedi who believed they could better serve the Force without those kinds of relationships, Master Bnar said. That they are distractions. But there have been other Jedi who believed that the Force is produced by life, and that there is no greater way to honor and serve the Force than to help bring and nurture new life. The tree paused, shifting to follow the light, to keep the sun from shining too brightly on Luke, Mara, and Betrys. Such disagreements about doctrine are common in the history of the Order.

"But eventually the Jedi Order concluded that relationships were incompatible with being a Jedi," Luke said.

And yet both you and Jedi Solusar are sons of Jedi of that order, Ood Bnar said, the words quietly amused. The disagreements may have been more quietly spoken, but they remained. The only constant is change, and that is as true for the Jedi Order itself as it is for anything else that exists in this galaxy. The tree could not smile, as such, but Luke could feel the emotion of one, carried across the Force. Be mindful of the living Force. When you are worried for the future, be mindful of the living Force. When you are worried about the past, be mindful of the living Force. Whether you are worried about the Republic, or the people of Nar Shaddaa, or your daughter, be mindful of the living Force. The Will of the Force is ever present, Jedi Skywalker. Sometimes your worldly concerns will make it harder to hear, but it is there, always.

Luke could feel the Force. He could feel its energy permeating through Ossus: through the soil and the microscopic creatures that inhabited it, through the sky and its intermittent snarls of lightning, through the galaxy beyond. Ten thousand lights, all merged into a singular tapestry that bound Luke, and Mara, and Betrys, and Master Ood, and the Ysanna and Kam and Tionne and the skittering lizards… and the long-fallen Jedi who had inhabited these ruins, and the specter of a future yet unformed.

The decision to listen and heed is not one that can be made for you. It is a choice, one you must make every day. A choice made by every Jedi. It must never be made selfishly.

Mara squeezed his hand. A choice we must make every day.

Four days later, Negotiator arrived with Tyria and Cray. The Jedi, with the aid of the Ysanna—Threepio had been as good as his word, and providing translations between them within thirty-six hours of his arrival—had begun a true archaeological effort, mapping out the ruins that had been discovered by the droids and were known by the Ysanna, with Ood Bnar's memories of what had once stood to help guide them. Ossus had once been home to a flourishing center of the Jedi arts, with as many as fifty-thousand Jedi present at any given time, mostly with non-combat specialties. Ossus had been not just a Jedi compound, but a center of Jedi civilization.

To Luke's knowledge—and to Tionne's—nothing quite like it had existed during Ben's era. There had been the temple on Coruscant, yes, and the Jedi service orders which existed throughout the galaxy, but Ossus and the Jedi of their era had been qualitatively different.

It, and the Jedi Master who still lived amongst the ruins, were a window into another time, a distant past that even the Jedi of Ben's era had forgotten. It, and the Jedi Master who still lived amongst the ruins, would now help inspire the rebirth of the Jedi Order of a new era.

Jedi of course must be wary of attachment. To be a Jedi is to be aware that all things change, and that nothing is permanent. Life and death are both of the Force. Excess fear of death—both your own and others—is ever a lure to the unnatural, a lure to the Dark. There are many others.

Luke and Mara sat with Ood Bnar, conversing. They had spent days in consultation with the old Jedi, sometimes in the company of Kam and Tionne, sometimes not. At that moment Tionne sat with them, taking notes on a datapad, lessons that would someday benefit others.

This lesson, though, was one Luke already knew. Many years had passed between Ood Bnar and Yoda, but in Ood Bnar's telepathic communication, Luke could feel the echo of Yoda's presence.

"Would you be willing to help teach new Jedi?" asked Mara.

I have been aiding the Ysanna in the exploration of their own Force abilities ever since the disasters of Ossus, although only instinctively. But I was always a better librarian than teacher.

"Then what do you offer?" Mara challenged.

Fellowship.

"Wisdom?" probed Luke.

There was a sense of rolling laughter. That is not for me to say. But certainly I can offer perspective.

"You cannot leave this place?"

I cannot. When I made the decision to stay and protect the legacy of the ancient Jedi and transformed, I made myself one with this world. Ossus and I will never again be separated.

"Then this will be a place that Jedi will always return to," Luke said. The two were in their fourth straight day of dialogue. "Perhaps it should be the host to the first Jedi temple."

"That's a conversation we'll have to have with the Ysanna," Mara pointed out. "This is their holy site."

Luke cradled Betrys in one arm and offered Mara his hand. "You sound like my sister. She's the one constantly aware of political sensitivities."

Mara placed her hand in his. "Maybe we should invite her to be part of the negotiations then."

Consulars were the heart of the Order, once. Diplomats who could see past the surface to the deep core of disagreements. Their skills are invaluable. A sense of wry amusement. And I would like to meet her.

"I think she would like to meet you as well," Luke said. "But in her absence, let's go try to be diplomats."

Author's Note: This is going to be the last missing moment. We had aspirations to write a few others, including one with the Hand of Justice, but ultimately nothing ever came of it. Unfortunately, inspiration has been hard to come by the last year (and I've been very busy and distracted), so it's likely to be a long time before Interregnum 4 ever comes out (I'd guess a minimum of another year before we start posting). Sorry about that! But at least, we left the story in a nice stopping point for the moment. We'll be updating Interregnum III one more time: with the preview of Interregnum IV, shortly before we start posting.