When the First Order beset on Takodana, Maz Kanata’s castle took the brunt of the assault. Located on the shore of a lake that was owned by the pirate Maz Kanata, it served as a haven for travelers, smugglers and other unsavory characters. Sensor grids and advanced communication gear secured the castle from unannounced attacks, giving its owner and visitors enough notice to flee the scene.

The area around it is rumored to have been the battleground for the Jedi and Sith, being of strategic value for those willing to seek control over Takodana, and is littered with ancient ruins that resemble the structure of the castle itself. Inside, the castle’s gray exterior vanishes into shades of brown, the color of sandstone. Tables and chairs fill the cluttered spaces where travelers could share tales or pursue their own controversial interests. Unfiltered smoke permeates the air, clogging the senses with a sweet odor. Various criminal groups have at some time or another sought shelter in the castle, their passage evidenced by the many-colored banners outside bearing their insignia.

Now, the castle remains uninhabited. Several of its towers have crumbled under the First Order’s assault. Stonework pillars have toppled over, scorched from turbolasers and blaster fire. Other segments lie in ruin, still too new for the forest to have reclaimed the land around the castle.

“This if your final warning! Surrender the child, and your lives will be spared,” Zara Tam announced over a loudspeaker into the stone remnants of Takodana castle. Behind her stood a near company size element of Technocratic Soldiers. They stood in ranks motionless, waiting for the command from their commanding officer.

From behind a pile of rubble of a broken fallen tower, Odanite Creon Okami and Jon Silvon looked to each other in concern. They were both exhausted, having been on the run from the Collective ever since arriving on Takodana. In his arms, Jon held a small unconscious human infant. The baby girl had been found to be strong with the Force, and it was the duty of the Jedi of Odan-Urr to take her in for training.

“I think they got us,” Jon said, “I don’t know about you, but the lake isn’t an option for me. I can’t swim.” “Like hell they do. What about the transport they landed on?” Jon took a small peak over the side of their cover in the debris at the troop vessel some few meters behind the small army, “Uhh… Artemis may be able to fly it, or at the very least send out an SOS to Kiast.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do. Take my droid too,” Creon replied as the BD Unit slides off his shoulder, “I’ll buy you as much time as I can.”

“Wait, how?”

Creon ignored his question in silence. Any more talking and he feared they would lose the opportunity of having the initiative. These few seconds of reprieve from the Major’s warning was a chance for shock and awe. The Jedi took a deep breath and rose from kneeling to his feet. He focused his awareness on the present moment, and emptied his inner thoughts of all thoughts, concerns, and imagination. He accepted the feeling that came to him in waves without letting them distract his movement. Feelings of stress, fatigue, and fear were natural given his situation. He stood alone, facing the army who took aim at the hand signal of their commander.

“Where is the child?!” the officer called with the last of her patience. Creon’s arm lashed out instinctively to one of the nearby stones with a telekinetic grip and flung it at the formation. After his mind let go of the boulder, he pulled in another big enough to provide him with cover as the blaster bolts fired in reply. The Collective troops broke their formation, some diverted on foot in either direction with others taking to the air with their jetpacks. In response, the Okami Mandalorian activated the shield generator at his belt and used the Force to jump high into the air. At the point in his leap just before he reached zero velocity, Creon ignited his jetpack to shoot him higher and faster than his foes had initially anticipated. He pulled the WESTAR Blaster Rifle from its magnetic holster and released the explosives on those who remained on ground. The few that survived quickly joined their comrades in the air, surrounding the lone Jedi in a swarm. Creon tried to fire at them with his blaster, but his foes were able to dodge and weave around his bolts no matter how well he aimed. Some of the returned fire had missed too, but many had impacted his shield from multiple angles. It wasn’t long until the shield short circuited with a fizzing sound that spewed out sparks, forcing him to draw his lightsaber as his next line of defense. The flying Jedi dove towards one soldier and sliced through his shoulder and the jetpack behind him. He then chased two or three more, carving through them while whirling the blue blade to block bolts the Force warned him of.

The arial onslaught continued for some few minutes until Creon’s jetpack was eventually hit and caused a blow out one of the rocket engines. The Mandalorian quickly activated the repulson on his belt to secure his landing and continued his best to deflect the ongoing fire with his lightsaber. He landed safely just short of where the formation once stood in a crater of desecrated ground from the impact of his earlier explosives. He looked up to see a large force looming over him with weapons drawn. Although there were bodies scattered around the field that proved he had made an impact in the skirmish, Creon felt as though his recent efforts had been in vain by the remaining large numbers that hovered above him. As the cold chill slithered down his spine as a warning of another incoming wave of fire, he reached out with both arms extended and produced a barrier with the Force. “Come on Silvon!” Creon hissed just before the shower of blaster bolts rained down on his shield.

Damn self sacrificing Jedi, Jon thought as he ran. His breathing was ragged and his legs ached, and he held the child as tightly to his chest as he dared. Gentleness had never been something he was good at, and he found himself wishing, not for the first time, that the council had sent Elyon or Sa on this mission, instead of him.

He flinched as he heard a distant explosion, but didn’t dare look back. Some part of him was sure that was the one that had done Creon in.

Damn heroes, he thought again, ducking behind some scorched stonemasonry that may have once been part of a roof for some cover as he ran. Damn their theatrics. Always have to put on a show of how selfless you are.

Artemis and Creon’s BD unit were keeping pace, and the ship was just a few meters away by now, and by some miracle the Collective still hadn’t noticed him. Tam himself wasn’t more than twenty paces from where Jon crouched. His first instinct was to take that opportunity, and one hand reached for the daggers at his belt before the child began fussing, and he remembered what he was here for. Silently, he began creeping.

I’m just a guy with some knives. I didn’t ask for all this galaxy saving, and magic!

Silencing the child as gently, and quietly as he possibly could - and thankfully the roar of the battle was enough to drown out the infant’s cries - he gestured silently for Artemis to go ahead of him, and began creeping towards the transport.

Every step he took, Jon was certain would be the one that tipped off the Collective to his presence. He was close enough now he could’ve reached them with his knife in a few step if he wanted to. Yet they were so focused on the Jedi - the Jedi insane enough to take on an entire army no less - that they dared not take their eyes off of him.

So, one heart pounding step at a time, Jon, Artemis, and BD snuck their way around the transport, and slipped inside.

There was a single Technocratic Soldier in the cockpit. As soon as he noticed them he immediately reached for the console to set an alarm. Jon’s dagger ended the man’s life before he had the chance.

“Alright Artemis,” he said to the astromech. “Time to do your thing.”

As Artemis got to work hacking into the transport’s controls, Jon stared out the window, trying, finally, to see how his friend was doing in his battle.

The answer? Not so great. They had him pinned with a variable ocean of blood red blaster bolts hammering into his shield. Jon was no Jedi, and he knew about as much about the Force as he did love songs, but even he could see the man was weakening, and fast.

Jon looked down to the child in his arms. They’d gone through a lot to get this kid to safety. His family hadn’t made it out. Odan-Urr was this kid’s last hope. Jon had heard rumours about what the Technocrats liked to do with Force-Sensitives they managed to get their scalpels on, and he didn’t believe for one second that they’d be any easier on a kid. It was his responsibility to get this kid to safety but…

Hell, why did Creon get to have all the glory?

“Artemis,” Jon said. “We’re about outta time. Can you fly this piece of scrap or what?”

“Artemis = Can do anythin Fleshling//Jon requires.” she responded. “Interjection = bumpy ride.”

“Specatacular,” he said, setting the child into the pilot seat. The one not occupied by a cyborg corpse.

Jon thought for a moment, then moved said body away from the infant. Even he wasn’t that crass.

“Take the ship, take the kid, and get them both back to Kiast. Send out a priority distress signal straight to Aura’s personal chambers.”

”Query = Fleshling//Jon possesses Fleshling//High Councilor’s personal chamber codes how?”

“...The less Aura knows about that the better,” Jon shrugged before heading for the door. “Don’t wait up honey!”

“Query = Fleshling//Jon intent?”

“Something stupid!” he said, jumping from the ship just as it’s thrusters began to lift it from the ground.

Blaster bolts pelted onto the Jedi's transparent barrier like a hailstorm. Headache after headache hammered continuously in Creon's mind with each passing second, pushing the stress of enacting the Force to the limits of his resolve. He had to endure, for a newly found life sensitive to the Force was at stake. She was an infant, one who's innocence was untainted by the sins of the galaxy's egotistical altruism. This child could potentially become the shining beacon the galaxy needed, one who would bring peace in these times of strife and chaos in war. Creon closed his eyes and dulled out the peripheral awareness of each of his senses. His ears ignored the sound of gunfire, and his body numbed out the wounds and aches it had sustained. All that was left was the pounding in his mind, and the exertion of the Force with every autonomous exhale.

The headaches then suddenly stopped. Like ripples in a pond from the passing of a stone they dissipated into the calm empty waters of his consciousness. Curiosity compelled Creon to open his eyes. His barrier was still projected, but there was no more impact from the enemy. From the skies above the remaining soldiers scattered like flies at the arrival of a new spacecraft with incoming fire. Creon dropped his barrier and took off his helmet to get a better look at the craft. The vessel was TIE in design, but he couldn't identify the specific model. It chased down the remaining soldiers, killing a few in the process until the rest had all abandoned the ruin site. The ship then oriented itself to a nearby technocratic transport vessel lifting off into space.

"No! Jon!" Creon cried out. The TIE then fired upon the vessel, destroying it entirely. The grim cold of death sank Creon's heart into an abyssal depression.

"Oh no..." Jon said with heavy breathing after arriving at the castle in a dead sprint.

"Jon, oh thank the Force you're okay," Creon said. Creon's heart however, wasn't wholly relieved at the sight of his Mandalorian kin. He saw the Mercenaries' look of shock and silent horror at the recent transport's explosion.

"Jon... Where's the kid?" Creon asked with a crack in his voice. Jon's silence and stare into the scattered debris falling from the skies into the nearby lake was enough to give Creon the answer he didn't want to hear.

Fear then crawled down both the Odanite's spine like a deadly spider with cold needle-like legs as the ship docked slowly some meters away from where they stood. The Jedi couldn't sense anything coming from it, or even physically see the pilot from the dome shaped window. Tears welt into his eyes, and his teeth gritted in anger as the cockpit opened from the roof. Jon moved to stand beside Creon with his dagger in hand and a vambrace aimed to fire. But once the platform from the cockpit ceased to elevate, they couldn't see anyone or anything.

"What the hell is this?!" Creon hissed as he approached the TIE with his saber held tightly in frustration until a flash of light burst forth from the top of the ship. Both of the Mandalorians' visions became impaired and caused them to stagger. Creon instinctively called upon the Force to enter a state of active meditation that pulsed out the effects on both Jon and himself. The unseen foe then unveiled herself from a translucent shroud and with a gesture of her hand sent a crimson lightsaber that whirled towards Jon, and another hand to hold Creon in place with the Force. Jon brought up a shield made from his vambraces and deflected off the incoming blade. The impact however caused the vambrace to short itself out, rendering one of them useless. The hold on Creon didn't last long, as his will in the Force enacted him to disjunct the grip along with a surge of speed towards his opponent.

The female kiffar assailant faded once more out of sight at Creon's approach, causing the Jedi to stop in his tracks and use the Force to sense her location. The lightsaber near Jon then flung itself across the air and into the woman's hand where she once stood. She revealed herself once more with a posture of arrogance and a bloodlust smile, "You did well against my initial attack strategy. Not many survive a minute past my traps."

"Care to tell us the name of our reaper so that death will know who sent us?" Jon asked with a whismical tone of voice.

The Sith's lips pursed like a predator's delight on suspecting prey, I am Nushalla Oribel. I have come here in search of my new apprentice. I felt a presence here with strong ties to the Force. If you tell me where I can find this presence, you may live to see tomorrow."

Creon's blade met with hers in almost a split second after her introduction. "YOU KILLED HER!" he roared.

Dammit Creon! Jon cursed to himself. She had just taken the bait of his compliment, to which he could use to charismatically pry out more information from her. This woman could have been under someone's command. If there were other Sith running around looking for Force sensitive children like Odan-Urr was, then encounters like this would only be the beginning to another war they couldn't afford.