Tysy smiled. "One course for Dantooine, coming up. T3?"
The utility droid happily beeped and whirred into life, setting the hyperspace
coordinates for the rebuilt Jedi Enclave's home planet. The Exile was glad that
in a few hours, she and Canderous would see their old crewmates again. She
wondered how the Mandalore felt about "being dumped in a nest of Jedi" so
suddenly, as Atton Rand had once commented wittily back on Telos.
When the Ebon Hawk touched down upon the lush green surface of
Dantooine, the balmy air of early summer enveloped both Tysy and the
Mandalore in his heavy and completely protective suit of armor. The
Exile felt a sheen of sweat begin to form on her upper lip. The planet
was full of a light and heady suffusion, but almost too much so. Tysy
had learned that even the most joyous and inspiring of situations could
quickly turn to disillusionment at the fall of a hat. Or the Force.
She and Mandalore approached the rebuilt Enclave, draped in ivy and the
native flora of Dantooine. Their steps seemed to echo on its cobblestone
brick pathways, sounding conspicuous and heavy. Presumptuous, like they
were the steps of the kind of intruders Master Atris had once been wary of.
"Atton!" Tysy called, jubilant. "Mira! Visas! Come out here. It's me, Tysy
Dvukh, the Exile, and the Mandalore, name of Canderous. We've come back!"
No one answered except the breeze. Which was odd, considering that the
Masters often meditated outside with their pupils in good weather like this.
Sensing something amiss, the Exile and Mandalore wandered into the interior
of the courts, where something like an electric seizure caught Tysy in its grasp.
"Aagh! It's the echoes of Darth Traya!" she cried. "She killed Master Vrook,
and Kavar, and Master Zez-Kai Ell! I have to get back from here, or else I'll die!"
Rushing to her aid, the Mandalore shoved Tysy back with all of his strength
toward the courtyard wall. Landing with an unceremonious, soft thud,
the Exile rubbed her eyes and saw four large depressions along the ground.
Depressions full of gray ash, and strange Force currents surrounding them.
Overloaded, saturated with pressure, tense and tingling, on the brink of explosion.
"Sith spit," the usually stoic Mandalorian muttered softly. "They're gone.
They have to be dead...all four of them. Nothing else could have happened."
Tysy crawled on all fours toward the ashes, gritting her teeth against the
stinging pain. Her eyes watered with fresh tears, for she knew it was true.