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"Their fleet is stuck here, they're toast! Come on!" --Poe Dameron at the Battle of Exegol

***

The barren surface of Jakku shines below.

In low orbit, the First Order Star Destroyer Silencer.

A series of explosions rupture the hull along one side as turbolaser turrets detonate.

On the bridge, personnel rush to and fro, an organised chaos, wide-eyed nervous faces suppressing panic.

"Starboard batteries are detonated, Admiral. Main hangar confirms wave one evacuation complete." Says a petty officer from the pits, her voice cracking with emotion, tears glistening on her cheeks.

Admiral Avarik's eyes are dry, face stern, where she stands staring out across the hull.

"Good. Open all hyperfuel valves and initiate data purge." She says.

Turning away from the viewport, the Admiral notices the petty officer's tears.

"Do not cry." She says, firm but not unkind.

Then she addresses the whole bridge.

"This is the turning point in our crusade. The point where we stop repeating the mistakes of the past.

"The Sith anarchists have betrayed us again, and the Galaxy has united against our battle cruisers."

Admiral Avarik paces the gleaming black floor. She was unfazed because she had expected as much. Her father had been a Scout Trooper at the Battle of Endor. He'd witnessed the Emperor's neglect of the Empire, the obsession with the Dark Side. Sith were only interested in sewing chaos.

"We will skuttle the Silencer and disappear. Not into the Unknown Regions but into the Colonies, the Core Worlds, the Inner Rim. We will infiltrate and we will convert humanity to our cause from the inside.

"The future of the High Human is not in Star Destroyers. It's in schools, in board rooms, it's on the Holos. This will be the true 'Final Order'."

Avarik Senior enters the bridge, smartly dressed in a travel suit. He nods to his daughter as if saying Time to go.

The Admiral smiles to her crew. Proud, confident.

"You've all been instructed on the link-up protocol. We will see each other again.

"Now, set the ship to impact the surface in the Graveyard of Giants. Uncontrolled descent. She'll lie with her forebears. Then all of you, get to your shuttles."

The crew salute their commander then hustle to carry out her orders. The Admiral falls in with her father as they exit the bridge.

"Our command shuttle is ready." He says, passing her a backpack.

"So am I." Admiral Avarik says, unfastening the black tunic of her uniform and tossing it aside.

"This time we'll do things my way."

The six-year old scav boy runs through the interior of the wrecked CR90, Starlight Wanderer.

He shouts in glee, encouraging the other scavengers to brave the harsh Jakku sun.

The old leather-faced Nikto woman that Jix helped shoos the boy away but the wily Arconan trader, Torani, drops the crate he's carrying (on top of his pit droids) and tries to keep up.

The boy runs the length of the ship, passing the two space-cakes that 2BB-2 helped fix the turbolaser turret. They're still spaced out when the boy and other kids in tow, stampede through... knocking over their bong.

Out into the blazing sun. Vontoba appears from the garage, the stern Zabrak has her arm splinted from the fight with the Strus Clan. She looks annoyed by the commotion.

"What is it, boy!?" She yells after the scav boy as he scrambles up the ladder to the lookout post.

He shouts back, "It's raining!"

In the lookout post a scruffy Rodian stands craddling an old Stormtrooper blaster, captivated by the spectacle on the horizon.

Jakku. Clear blue sky and desert wastes. There, the Graveyard of Giants where the immense, broken hull of an Imperial Star Destroyer lies.

In the sky above, a First Order Star Destroyer plummets through the lower atmosphere, stern-first and wracked with explosions.

The scav boy pumps his arms in the air. The Rodian jibber-laughs. The Varactyls holler in excitement in the pens nearby.

"It's raining junk!"

***

Dokar Venas's scabby, grilled helmet stares up at the plummeting Star Destroyer, breath rattling in the ribbed tubes.

"Take it off," says Fira Bon as she stomps by, "you look like a moof-milker in a pod race."

Tiras takes the helmet off and shrugs, tossing it away. "You're the boss, hey."

The dead Strus leader's helmet thunks in the sand. Abandoned in the Goazon Badlands like his corpse.

Tiras has a Bacta patch stuck to his cheek and Fira Bon's armour is scarred with blaster fire. Evidence of their fierce fight with the Strus Clan.

The scout gets back to work, and Fira Bon pauses next to the old Abednedo, Bormo, who leans on his shock stave admiring the spectacle. A priest of the Church of the Force, Bormo sighs.

"The people of Tuanul can finally rest in peace." He says, praying silently.

"And the First Order can rest in pieces." Says Fira Bon, trudging on to their Quadjumper, the Sunstrider.

Parked on the flats not far from Niima Outpost, the Quadjumper is undergoing an upgrade.

Mhar-li straightens up, wincing. Her face is badly bruised from her interrogation and her back still twinges.

"How's it looking, Mhar-li?" Fira Bon asks, dumping a carryall inside the rear hatch.

"Me, like hell. But the ship's looking real nice." Mhar-li says, slapping the hull. "SubPro made the modules for these things interchangeable. So easy. The hyperdrive's in and just shaking hands with the dash. We'll have astrogation from the co-pilot's seat."

(Unkar Plutt has had plenty of Quadjumper spare parts for sale since his own was destroyed by TIE Fighters during BB-8's escape.)

There's a flash on the horizon as the Star Destroyer impacts but it will take minutes for the boom to reach them, assuming the shockwave isn't swallowed by Kelvin Ravine.

"You think they made it? Winta and the others." Asks Mhar-li doubtfully, squinting.

Fira Bon shields her eyes with her hand and watches the destruction with grim satisfaction.

She glances sideways at her pilot.

"Let's go find out." She says, breathing in, "It's a new galaxy out there."

Deep space. Admiral Avarik pilots her own command shuttle, a sinister black Upsilon-class with a red-lit cockpit.

She skirts the event horizon of the Endor Gate at sublight speed, not risking hyperdrive near the infamous black hole.

Her father, Avarik Senior monitors comms beside her.

"Sounds like they're ready for us in the Nubus System. I think you'll enjoy executive management." He says.

The Admiral smirks, "You'll enjoy it, you mean, Father."

Senior chuckles, not arguing. "Well, the First Order always was so... austere. Back in my day an Imperial commander was expected to enjoy the finer things in life."

Shaking her head at her old man's nostalgia, she still has a predatory stare.

Then, bleeping from the cockpit instruments. Ahead of them a ship drops out of hyperspace.

A bare metal shuttle similar in design to theirs.

"Xi-class, one of ours." Says Avarik Senior, bewildered.

Admiral Avarik checks a readout and grins, recognising the comms code.

"Talkar." She says aloud, hailing him and commenting, "He has a nose like a boar-wolf."

"Group Captain Talkar, you made it." She says.

A pause then Talkar's voice over the comlink.

«We lost.»

The Admiral frowns, replying:

"No. The Sith have lost. Belief in the High Human will endure as it always has, and will triumph as long as each of us does our part."

Silence. Silence. Silence. What is Talkar thinking?

Ahead, the Xi-class shuttle starts to accelerate towards the Avariks' Upsilon-class.

"What is he doing? He's coming straight at us." Asks Avarik Senior, alarmed.

The Admiral's eyes go wide as she realises Talkar's intention.

Talkar does his part.

GM

Above the jungle of Ajan Kloss, the sun sets behind the gas giant Ajara in an indigo sky.

The Resistance camp has had a facelift since the team last saw it.

No longer hidden under the jungle canopy, it's now a parking lot of fighters, freighters, patrol craft and cruisers from across the Western Reaches. They all look battle damaged but none are burning. Over a hundred ships with their landing lights strobing the air and underlit by coloured inspection and loading lights. The darkness between ships is interspersed with the warm glow of firepits and fusion furnaces.

It looks like one heck of a jamboree.

With permission to land received from the controller, the Bargon Flit swings in to touchdown next to Caracara Squadron.

Your Corellian freighter looks even uglier parked next to the mercenary outfit's starfighters, but they'll come off worse if there's a scramble to take-off.

Even from the cockpit, you can see Sentients of all species and droids milling about, socialising, celebrating. Handheld glowrods and status lights look like Wisties in the deeping shade beneath the trees.

The undergrowth is thick but so much foot traffic has created trails where before there were none.

You should be able to find your way to the hard-standings and caves that are utilised for the Resistance base.

As soon as the cargo ramp cracks open, the sound of Kanjiklub pop fills the air. You Should Die By Blaster-bolts drifting from Zulay Ulor's U-Wing fighter nearby where her mercenaries have gathered. Caracara Squadron aren't Resistance but their presence tells you they answered the call and joined the Citizens' Fleet. They and others like them wouldn't be here if you hadn't accomplished your mission.

Excited talking, laughter, more music farther away, all drowns the sound of the jungle. But even the smell of camp-cooking and hyperfuel can't overwhelm the loamy smell of the dusky jungle.

You see figures hurrying through the trees to greet you, khaki Resistance uniforms. Even from a distance you recognise Rose Tico, Lieutenant and the one who discovered Ghidrah. Behind her is Captain Beaumont Kin. They're both intelligence officers, ex-civilians not military-types, both a lot of fun and easy to talk too. Others are behind them. They must've heard the Flit had returned from its top secret mission.

You have a moment to yourselves before they arrive; Bek and Bastian stand with you.

GM

Lieutenant Bek straightens the brown tunic of his uniform.

He was a logistics officer who knew how to plan a complex operation at short notice. Based on Rose Tico's ideas, he'd organised the acquisition of the Bargon Flit and the rendezvous with Fira Bon on Jakku. But for now his duty is done.

Bek addresses the team, showing 2BB-2's head unit.

"I'll take good care of this." He says, solemn but hopeful, "And I will ask around... there might be other droidsmiths at this party!"

He salutes the team with a rubbery-fingered hand.

"It has been an privelege to serve with you."

Lieutenant Bastian nods in agreement. His flight helmet is under one arm and the Nannarium root seems to have worn off.

"Hey, I wanna thank you again." The starfighter pilot says to the team, "I know you risked the mission to save me. I'm glad you did and I won't ever forget it."

Amos

He seemed distracted as he limped off of the ship. His body was battered from their adventures and his heart was hurting at the mental sight of his son who was so far away and in desperate trouble. If only he had gotten some idea of where the lad was he would move Heaven and Earth to get there.

"It was an honor to fly with you all."

Sirra:

She looks at Bastian.

“There really wasn’t any other choice. Leaving you there wasn’t an option.”

She also looks over at Amos

“The honor is all mine. You are a defender. Many things I am not. If I perhaps had a father more like you, perhaps I would have turned out different.”

She gives a crooked smile.

“Still, one does what they can with what they have.”

Winta

"Thank you, Lt. Bek, it was a privilege to have you with us."

She acknowledged Bek's salute with a formal nod.



"Having found you," she responded to Bastian, "There was no way we could leave you. I would hope others would do the same for any of us if the situation was reversed."

Jeleasi'Beni

There was a stillness about the lethan Twi'lek. She walked off the ship quietly and stood solemnly as she seemed to look past or through the revelers. Her thoughts went unshared. She didn't feel as though a celebration was something she could embrace just yet. Maybe never. So much lost, too much.

Although, seeing the Purgill Calf free, not only from the shackles of Imperial and First Order confinement, but also from the the horror of the life it was forced to endure, gave her a sense of peace, and renewed purpose. She knew could could master her abilities and keep the balance between the Light and the Dark. Maybe not today, but one day.

Her journey was not done though. She could not, would not, rest until she had done everything she could to find the man who gave life to a broken and embittered heart. No matter how short that fire burned, it was still the first time since she was a small child she was happy and felt loved. Then again, knowing what she knows now, how much of her childhood was actually built on love? Maybe her mother. But it was her father who had given her over to the slavers, who in turn sold her to a Hutt on Nar Shaddaa. All her life was built upon anger and hate and distrust... Fear.

But Maljean Reynard, a First Order Officer, found drifting in space changed all of that for her. Despite her instincts and better judgment at the time she rescued him from his evac pod. He was infuriating and arrogant, and served a racist ideology... and yet, she fell in love with him, even though she tried desperately to resist. He too found his prejudices shattered and his heart awakened.

Nubus system. What had they done to him. Would he remember her? She had to find out. How would she tell the others. She couldn't ask them to join her. She couldn't ask them to risk their lives again after all they already been through. This was a Resistance fight for the very fate of the Galaxy. It was a JB mission, for the fate of her heart and for love. She held onto that emotion, that feeling, that hope by a thread for four years now. She couldn't expect anyone else to chase after her dreams when they had their own lives to resume.

Jeleasi'Beni wanted to leave immediately. She had done her part. She had fulfilled the bargain she made with Maz Kanata. She spent four years training to master the fledgling talents in the Force, harnessing them, and expanding them. That training came to purpose in this mission. That was the deal. And when it was done, if she survived, she would be given leave and the means to find Maljean.

Nothing else mattered to her. She looked upward into the sky and knew that she couldn't rest until she had found him and looked into his eyes and his soul again. She was a thousand parsecs away right now.

Sirra looked over towards JB, and if possible caught her eye and gave her a nod? A nod meaning what?

[Ghosted for Pandemonium]

Preach

He regarded Lieutenant Bastian with a wry smile.

"Young man, I'm glad we saved you too," he said earnestly, his throat also feeling much better, "otherwise it might've been me operating that turbolaser in the base and things might've turned out quite differently."

Preach bowed his head to Bek in thanks and respect. With all these ships gathered from the Citizen Fleet, Preach felt sure they'd see the Mon Cal logistics officer again soon.

His first instinct was to see Jix's mortal remains taken care of.

Preach was learned in the beliefs and religions of the Galaxy's varied species. If he remembered correctly, the Verpine jettisoned their dead into space. Although some space-faring species might consider this a waste, the Verpine took a better safe than sorry approach. Recycling the dead into organic matter risked spreading dangerous diseases in the population, not easily monitored even by Verpine technology.

Being buried in the rich soil of Ajan Kloss, teaming with insect life, would likely be considered a rare privilege by the Verpine.

Preach looked out for a medic.

[Hmm, I like this subtext between J.B. and Sirra. Tell us more! Oh, and Winta and Amos have some Corellian whisky in their future, no?]

GM

Bastian nods gratefully.

"Well if any of you ever need anything of me. Just ask." He says sincerely.

As soon as Rose and Kin see you standing on the cargo ramp, lit by the loading lights, they rush over in excitement. Their exuberant cries are heard over even the Zulay Ulor's sound system.

Both officers go straight for big hugs, unrestrained joy and a bit of liquor too. (Kin is carrying a half empty bottle of glowing Spotchka.)

"I knew you could do it!" Yells Rose, "We were already in sub-hyperspace when Ghidrah went down so the first thing we knew about it was when Lando showed up. It was awesome!"

Kin uncorks the Spotcha and passes it around, laughing:

"The Final Order didn't see it coming either. They thought the Emperor's message was still flooding all channels."

Behind Rose and Kin is Twylope Nur. A diminutive Mohsenian with white, wire hair, he's one of the most experienced medics that the Resistance has left. His nose could smell illness and infection, and the dead.

He blinks with sad, black eyes.

"Who have we lost?" He asks, tilting his head quizzically.

[Ghosted for Pandemonium]

Preach

The old man didn't want to ruin the celebration. Jix wouldn't have wanted that either. On the contrary, Preach was sure that Jix would want the defeat of the First Order to be celebrated abundantly.

But Jix had friends in the Resistance besides his team-mates on the Bargon Flit.

He stepped forward to speak to Twylope. Being a medic, the kind little Mohsenian might have known Jix better than most.

"Jix. At the last, he sacrified himself to save his friends. And that is a story I am sure they will tell." Preach said.

He sighed but was not downhearted for the sake of the fallen.

"I think Jix would've liked to be buried here in the jungle."

Sirra

“Jix saved me a long time ago. I wish I could say for certain I deserved it. But that one is to be honored nonetheless

Winta

She stepped back from the onrush, her arms held out to keep them at a distance. "No hugs!" she exhorted Rose and Kin as they rushed towards the ship.

"I am feeling delicate," she added indicating her blasted armour, and clothing with clear light sabre slashes through it.

GM

Twylope sniffs Winta with his sensitive Mohsenian nose. He doesn't seem to smell a medical emergency but does unpack a pressure spray.

"Pure Bacta---" He says but Captain Kin butts in with the bottle of glowing liquor.

"Don't you know Twylope, Winta here's a Sorgan gal. All she needs is Spotchka!*" Kin says, proffering the bottle.

Twylope backs down, chuckling.

Rose squeezes Sirra's shoulder and nods to Preach.

"We lost a lot of good people over Exegol... in this war." She says, soberly.

Rose has become a capable staff officer since D'Qar though and knows what needs to be done.

"Vazzet, Wizzich, please take Jix to the stasis pods. He can rest there until the burial."

Two dwarfish Cycclorrians waddle forward with a hover-stretcher. Insectoid like the Verpine but half as tall, they board the ship and load Jix's body bag onto the stretcher.

Bek cradles 2BB-2's head unit and makes to follow the Cycclorrians until Kin sees him.

"Hey Bek, you want that droid repaired? Chewie was just telling me about this droidsmith they brought back from Kijimi. Anzellen called Babu Frik. Restored Threepio from a backup or something...."

Swapping stories, Kin and Bek light glowrods and walk off along the jungle trail, passing Kaydel Connix.

The young ops officer's blonde hair is tied into buns as always but they're somewhat loose and wild tonight.

She taps on a datapad, checking in the Bargon Flit but is surprised to see Bastian.

"Bastian!? Shouldn't you be with Task Force Andor?" She asks.

Bastian shrugs awkwardly, "I was. But we got separated in the Unknown Regions."

Connix perks up; she has good news for him.

"Well now Ghidrah's offline we were able to establish comms with Tsano Brana. The task force located the First Order base on Yashuvhu but they need transports. They found thousands of abandoned kids, stolen by the First Order for their Stormtrooper Programme...

Bastian snarls, "Hell yeah, sign me up!"

That might rouse Amos's interest too, though Rose adds some bad news.

"We're also tracking the Sith Eternal cruiser that destroyed Kijimi. It's still out there, armed with a planet-killer."

As Connix and Rose update Bastian, you might notice another small figure watching you from the edge of the light.

Her lens goggles gleam in the darkness, and even the mercs of Caracara Squadron seem to defer to her.

But of course it's the pirate queen herself, one of your teachers in the Force, Maz Kanata.

Her face wrinkles with a smile when she sees you see her.

*Spotchka. Famously made on the planet Sorgan by Winta's village in The Mandalorian.

Amos

He walks along beside Preach, sorrow in his heart for the loss of their friend and pain from the many wounds that he had received. The younger people talk excitedly back and forth and he isn't really following their conversations until he heard Connix spoke. It took a few seconds for it to sink in and he turned to her with an intensity in his eyes that is frightening.

"Where?! Yashuvhu you said? I have to get there. To where ever they are taking the youngsters found!"

Winta

She reached out and took the proffered bottle of Spotchka from Kin, "It has wonderful healing properties," she commented.

She took a long slug of Spotchka, and handed the bottle back.

She absent-mindedly wiped her mouth as she listened to the other conversations.

And then she noticed that the was being watched.
Winta reached out with the force and acknowledged her teacher.

Jeleasi'Beni

The child in her had faded away many years ago, a victim of circumstance, and an unnecessary liability to the interests of survival. But a life such as that took a toll on the soul and spirit of a person. She found it very hard to trust people, and harder to make friends with them... and Love? Well, that was always described as a thing rare enough indeed, and finding it for her had been a once in a thousand lifetimes worth of odds against her that she still came up pazaak on. And then it was ripped from her.

She had traded herself and her curse of a gift to Maz Kanata and her resistance movement. And, once again, surviving deep odds against her, she had returned to collect on her end of the bargain. That was the life she knew. Most of her life spent entertaining the Hutts and their interests. No matter how vile and detestable those services became, she had vowed to learn something new every chance she could. The wheel keeps turning...

Four years of training, then to be sent into an uncertain fate on a mission that Maz must have seen in one of her visions, and now it was time to take her life back... whatever there was of it to be scratched out and called her own. She knew that a few of her comrades had made it clear they would help her, but she couldn't ask that of them. When the time came for her to leave, a time drawing ever so near now, they would have to make that choice without invitation from her.

She 'felt' Sirra watching her, and so she looked back down from the sky to meet the woman's eyes with her own. Sirra was another with an uncertain path forward. Her whole life seemed dedicated to repaying some debt that never could be repaid nor was anyone but the ghosts of her past seeking to collect. JB tried to offer a smile, but it was not an expression she could muster at the moment. Instead, the thin lipped expression was followed with a nod of understanding.

Beyond Sirra wasMaz herself, standing at the edge of the light, watching. JB started in that direction. It was time to make this official.

GM

Rose has heard Amos's story, sees his need and nods to Connix. Connix makes some rapid inputs on the datapad as Rose explains to Amos.

"We'll get you and Bastian on a Resistance Transport to Yashuvhu. But we're gonna need the Bargon Flit's speed and mass driver cannon to hunt the missing Star Destroyer."

The Sith Eternal had built the Xyston-class around the axial superlaser. Planet killers but with limited capability beyond that. They needed First Order Star Destroyers, with their banks of turbolasers and squadrons of TIE Fighters, to protect them from other ships.

Even so, a rogue Xyston-class with a crew of religious zealots is far too dangerous to let wander the Galaxy.

This particular Xyston-class, the Derriphan had killed tens of millions of people and every living thing on Kijimi. It has to be stopped, and the Resistance will need fast, hard-hitting ships to catch up with it.

Rose notices Maz Kanata standing nearby and smiles to her, turning back to you.

"Listen, we'll take care of the ship. Go see Maz." She says, adding with a much bigger, heartfelt grin, "And then we better see you at the party!"

You are the Force Awakened.

You were trained by General Leia, the Jedi droid Professor Huyang, and mentored by the famous pirate queen, Maz Kanata.

J.B. is first to approach her. Winta greets Maz using the Force, but perhaps she, Sirra, Amos and Preach also follow J.B.?

Maz pops up her corrective goggles, scrutinising the red-skinned Twi'lek with her natural eyesight. She holds out her small, yellow hands to J.B..

"Child, you have been in my thoughts... You all have.

"Much has happened." She says with wonder and sadness. "The last Jedi has passed, the Sith destroyed, bringing an end to a war that has lasted five thousand years.

"The Force is free to grow, and we to grow with it."

Her face wrinkles with the gentle touch of a smile.

"But through all that, at the front of my mind was 'I hope you are surviving, I hope you are supporting each other. I hope I will see you again.'

"You are the children of a new era... but you are my children too."

Sirra walks a bit behind JB, but stays quiet. She still has that edge of turmoil. The feeling that she isn’t able to balance the scales of her past with her present, and never will be able to.

Still. She was closer now than she had been. For the moment, she stays quiet as she is not the one ‘at the center’.

Winta

She saw that JB was walking towards Maz, and followed.

[Ghosted for Pandemonium]

Preach

It was sad to see Jix's mortal remains carried off of the ship but it only served as a reminder to Preach that once life had left it, the body was merely a souvenir. A person's life was told in their story, written across the stars, and the Force was like a light that illuminated it.

"The Force is with us...and we are one with the Force." Preach said quietly, as much to himself as anyone else.

He was pleased to see Maz Kanata. He knew his training with her and Professor Huyang was complete. General Leia had passed on. But Preach still had much to learn about Force use and was mindful that it was a power that had to be controlled for the safety of everyone.

Maz Kanata had the wisdom of over a thousand years, she drifted in the Force, riding its currents more skillfully than anyone, but she was not a Force user.

Preach wanted to help Amos and J.B., but he knew the time was coming that they would have to part ways. Amos to find his son, J.B. to find her man, Sirra perhaps to find herself now that her archnemesis, the First Order had been destroyed. Winta's obligations were surely with the Resistance, aiding in the recovery.

But together they had formed many other friendships; it looked like Amos had already teamed up with Bastian.

"What is your next step, Winta?" Preach asked their team captain, "Will you join Amos or J.B.? I imagine the recovery effort will need officers like you."

Amos

Rose's words helped calm the frantic heartbeat in his chest. At last there was positive action toward recovering his son! He could almost feel his boy in his arms. His son was all that was left to him now and he would save his boy or die in the trying.

He nodded gratefully to Rose at her words, reaching out to touch her shoulder for just a moment as he told her a heartfelt thank you and turned to follow his comrades toward the mysterious Maz.

Winta

She gave Preach a shrug. "I will go where I am told to go. It was ever thus, ever since I started to work for Mon Mothma.
Though General Organa never phrased her instructions as an 'order', you knew that you were going to do what she asked of you."

"I suppose I just need to report in, find out where I now fit in the chain of command, and get some orders."

Jeleasi'Beni

Jelly Bean

"I did not know her very well. I spent most of my four years with you, and some with the Professor. But I can feel the emotions here, the joy and the relief, but also the grief... I am sorry for this loss that affects so many."

Life in the galaxy for many like herself was an unforgiving and often meaningless experience, where the value of living or dying was an equal measure of apathy and cruelty from those claimed they served a greater good, in the guise of self-serving aspirations to power. How many died in the belief that good must not only stand against evil, but must also prevail? How many died serving a belief that despised them as much as it taught them to despise others? How many were caught in the middle of it all? The lives of those whose names would never be uttered nor written in the annals of history would be lost to vagaries of war and the cruelties of noble purpose, a banner carried by both sides. They each tell you that you are important and that they are the side of truth and justice... but they both can't be right, can they? And what if they are both wrong? Leia Organa will be remembered for an eternity. So few would be remembered beyond these brief moments of gathering. Some would have died without ever being known. Faceless, nameless souls deemed collateral damage. What all the people who raised a fist against the dark forces that gathered? What of the countless lives lost who wore sits of battle armor that were seemingly never designed to stop blaster fire? They had names, right? But their name wasn't Leia Organa. The Last Jedi. Or, was that the woman called Rey? Or, were their more Jedi... Weren't Preach and Winta also called Jedi? Yes? No? And wouldn't it be logical to believe that if there were more Jedi to to come, wouldn't there also be those who oppose them? Or is it the Jedi who oppose the others, whatever they are called? A cycle that is doomed to keep repeating itself and, again life is the cheapest expense of the conflict, over and over again.

JB spent her early years on Ryloth, in a remote village that kept itself isolated and avoided modern technologies. From there she was taken, no... she was given to slavers and sold to Tenga the Hutt, forced into prostitution as a child and taught to serve and entertain. The rise of the First order had never been a concern of hers in all those years. If they were to the Hutts and anyone she crossed paths with on the outer rim worlds, they didn't reveal that to her. She had heard of them and had known their cruelties. She wasn't human and that made her something to be hated by them. She never had reason to cross paths with them. That is, until her little stolen craft crossed paths with a wayward escape pod whose transmitter beacon had failed.

That day changed her life...

The first of many changes, good and bad that would come over the next four years, that would eventually see her standing here before Maz Kanata for what she had told herself might be the last time. JB had done as she had promised. She trained her awakened talents at Maz's direction to serve in a seemingly hopeless quest to right wrongs... or something suitably poignant and soul-wrenchingly meaningful? Or whatever it was all meant to achieve. Did that and lost friends along the way. Of all she travelled with, Jix and Babay were the ones to whom she had felt the closest. By the end of it, Sirra, whose own pain and torment kept her very closed off, had opened up to her.... and Amos, a man chasing a demon in his own soul it seemed, had given her a glimpse of what a father of a child should look like. The two Jedi were... just that, Jedi. They kept their lives controlled and help the things that made personal connections real very close to themselves. Contained and controlled. JB was already walled off and making a connection to those who had isolated themselves as a part of their training to control the powers they wielded would be nigh on impossible.

But, somewhere along this journey, she became something. Not a Jedi, for she would never be able to control the emotions, both good and bad... but she found she could find a balance between them.She was awakened for certain... but she was more than a gifted pilot and intuitive mechanic. Maybe Maljean had opened a door that would reveal how deep her giftings truly went.

If Maz knew the next words that were to come out of JBsmouth, she would be the only one. Coming over to tell her she was going to part ways at this time was her intention.

She glanced at Sirra, wondering if unspoken agreement they had would still hold...

"You will need a pilot who knows the Flit. And someone the Flit knows... And I'm the best one you have..."

"I'll take your team in and we'll find the ship you're hunting and we'll take it down... Then the Bargon Flit is mine and I will find him and free him... and the Galaxy will never hear from us again. Do we have a deal?"

[Ghosted for Pandemonium]

Preach

He considered what Winta said, and what J.B. was saying.

"The Guardians of the Whills were formed to protect a way of life, not impose it on others." He said, ruminating aloud.

"My old friend Lor San Tekka believed the future of the Force was as a small but significant role in everyone's lives. No Jedi, no Sith, just people."

Preach's hand patted the lightsaber hilt on his belt.

"Maybe you are where you're meant to be Winta. Instead of Jedi, in the future there will be Force Awakened in all walks of life. In defence forces, yes, but as local marshalls too," Preach said this, looking at Amos, continuing, "as rescue workers, doctors, mechanics...."

As he trailed off, Preach even imagined Force athletics, sports. But for himself, he imagined a future as a student, still with so much to learn about the power of the Force.

"For my part, I would like to continue my journey of discovery."

GM

Maz listens and beams a smile in reply to J.B., deeper yellow and wrinkled than it has been in years.

"You are ready." She says, though you can tell there's one her hallmark Kanata-twists coming.

"Luke Skywalker lost faith in the Jedi Order. In the end, Luke told Rey what she needed to hear to defeat the Sith and finally end the war.

"But the Jedi are gone, Child. You are each what comes after and that is as it always should have been."

Leia had been strong in the Force and learned many Jedi techniques but she was not a Jedi. That path, that rigid code, had brought only ruin for her family.

She had wanted the Force Awakened to learn self-control and of course to be good citizens of the Galaxy, but Leia had avoided teaching dogma. (Lando Calrissian might say she always did keep her cards close to her chest.)

The droid Professor Huyang had been programmed by the Jedi Order but only to teach martial arts.

Maz's role has been as a mentor, a counsellor, someone to talk to, play holochess with. Over a thousand years old and with a keen interest in ancient lore and artefacts, she's also a great storyteller.

Maz pops her goggles back down and looks to Winta and Preach.

"Leia brought you here for a reason. She foresaw a time when healing would be needed more than fighting.

"An old Whippid lives in this jungle. Once a Jedi Knight he turned his back on the Order, choosing to live as one with nature.

"He is a master of Force healing. He will teach you, if that is your wish."

Maz looks to Amos.

"You must find your son, Amos. If you can bring him back from the darkness then there is hope for all the missing sons and daughters of this war.

"I think Rose will go with you too. She is quite fond of you!"

Rose Tico? Fond of Amos romantically? She's ten years his junior and became more withdrawn after the defeats at D'Qar and Crait. But she has a brave heart and can't stand by whilst children suffer. Maz probably meant 'fond' as in respectful, admiring. The pirate queen isn't likely to elaborate!

At that she turns to Sirra and J.B.. A sisterhood has grown between the two. Maz senses it, and so her twist:

"The Resistance might need your ship now, but afterwards I think you should take it and go. And I will be going with you!

"My work here is done. Some day I would like to rebuild my castle but this day... I feel it is time for a little mischief."

Sirra:

She tilts her head to one side, scratches around the edge of the ruined eye socket.

Many things had been going through her mind. Her childhood, her nonexistent childhood, really. Had she ever really taken the time to be a child? Her parents, for whatever value that held. Her real parents had been the First Order. All of her earliest life lessons in passion, dedication, focused hate, intolerance- all of those things which made up the sculpture that comprised ‘Sirra-that-was’. All of the broken pieces that were melted together into Sirra that is. Into ‘Revenant’. Into the instrument that was hunting down the society that birthed her. Who was about to hunt down some of its strangling remnants. Then … then what?


“I will hunt down the remains of the First order and all of the destruction and death we … they … have caused. If you need a copilot, I’ll ride.”

She looks over at Maz, then JB.

“Her, I get. If she is part of what follows in the wake of the Jedi, then the Galaxy is in good hands. Her, Preach, Winta - all of them. On the other hand.”

She gives a crooked half smile.

“If I’m an example of what the universe is inheriting as protectors than that universe is in deep deep trouble. I am no model to be followed.”

Winta

She nodded and quietly mulled over Maz's comment.
Winta knew Maz was right. All her other skills were well and good, but the only reason that Winta was having the conversation was because she had kept herself alive when it was a choice of doing that or death.

She knew she had no skill in healing - that one time it it had just been desperation.

She knew that was the right path to take.

She looked at Maz.

She could see that Maz knew that she now knew and there was nothing that needed to be said.

[Ghosted for Pandemonium]

Preach

"Oh I don't know." He said to Sirra, twitching his dreadlocks, "Self-control and respect for others. I'd say that's a firm bedrock for anyone to build on."

The kanjiklubber music from the parked starfighters, and the sound of revelry from the Resistance camp through the trees reminded Preach that they should be celebrating. He could sense their joy through the Force.

Celebrating to honour the fallen and for the sake of those left behind. The Resistance and the Rebel Alliance before them, had all fought for this moment. Many had died. Yes, a victory celebration was rightly owed.

Preach rocked his old shoulders experimentally. He wasn't feeling the Force, he was feeling the beat!

"But right now, I aim to unleash the Force on the dancefloor."

[Ghosted for Phoenix Prime]

Jeleasi'Beni

Jelly Bean

Her, Sirra and Maz Kanata on the same crew, flying the Bargain Flight wild and free across the Galaxy.

JB was young, she had to remember that before she met Maz, Maz had lived over a thousand years and was fabled as a treasure hunter and pirate queen. There was more to Maz than being a mentor and there could be more to their relationship too.

Friends. Family. A notion that sparked a fountain of ideas in Jeleasi'Beni. And with Maz on board, extracting Maljean from the Nubus System would be a little less difficult.

With a fire in her eye, JB nodded to Maz and to Sirra.

Yes.

[Ghosted for KenSeg]

Amos

He agreed with Preach.

Amos couldn't jump in any old junker and shoot off to the Unknown Regions after his son. That was no way to mount an effective rescue.

Bastian seemed like a good guy and was an ace starfighter pilot. If he could fly wingman for Poe Dameron in the attack on Starkiller Base, Amos couldn't ask for a better partner for his next mission.

If Rose Tico came too, even better.

But right now they needed to celebrate their victory over the First Order and the end of the Jedi-Sith War. Amos wasn't a preacher, but he knew it'd be morally wrong not to celebrate after so many had given their lives to achieve this very end.

"Dang, Preach, reckon Jakku dried out my dance moves but a bottle of that Spotchka might just oil me up." He said.

Amos gestured to the trail that led to the heart of the party.

GM

Maz chuckles and flicks on her glowrod to illuminate the way through the trees.

As she walks, she says over her shoulder to J.B., "Hmm, Child, I know the perfect flight engineer for our crew! Just come available and decades of experience on YT freighters!"

Maz shines the glowrod ahead, the light reflecting off her goggles.

"I do like that Wookiee!" She says to herself.

From the trail, up, up, above the trees.

The canopy of the jungle spreads out between mountainous highlands.

The colourful lights of the party look magical beneath the stars.

The gas giant, luminous in night sky with its two moons, looks dream-like.

Like something from a saga of yore, a story of a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away.

The End