Before - Legends Legends: The Force Wars (Circa 25,000 BBY, Part 1: A Dark Rebellion)

Author's Note: Hello everyone. This is just an idea I've had for a while. This story was inspired after looking at the Dawn of the Jedi comics, which were decent but it did not go into the rise of the Jedi as I wanted. Still, the comics (from what I've seen) are interesting and I thought I try to go into a time period not go into like I've seen.

With that, I like to give you The Force Wars. Enjoy.

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A long, long time ago in a galaxy, far, far away…​

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A thousand generations ago, before the Jedi Order and the Old Republic, the Je’daii gather on the world of Tython to learn and understand the power which became known as the Force.​

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Yet as they seek for knowledge, divisions between light and dark embed into the ranks of the Je’daii. As these divisions grow, each Je’daii will fight among themselves–student against master, brother against sister–in a conflict that will mark the end of the old order and the beginning of the new.​

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These are the Force Wars.​

 

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PART 1: ​

A Dark Rebellion​

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Chapter 1​

Nice and easy, now, Cala told herself.

Her hands gripping the control stick, she moved it to the side. The thin wings titled in suit, and the fighter she piloted, flew past another thick layer of Tython’s gray clouds.

For several hours, Cala had been sitting in the cockpit of the fighter. She expected to feel some form of excitement and joy of flying. Sadly, waiting inside a cramp fighter was unnerving and Cala almost bounced one of her legs just to rid of the stiffness feeling.

“You should relax a little,” a deep and warm voice said from behind. “I can sense your unease from back here.”

Cala glanced over her shoulder to her fellow human sitting behind her. “Sorry,” Cala gave an apologetic stare, though her goggles hid it. “I’m just glad to be healed and away from Mahara Kesh, that’s all.”

“I never thought Master Calleh was a bad healer,” her companion said with a hint of humor and smile under his helm, no doubt.

“There’s nothing wrong her healing. It’s her food I can’t stand,” Cala grumbled, earning a light-hearted laugh.

Cala found her companion to be quite interesting. He was a Je’daii Ranger, a rank higher than her own status as a Je’daii Journeyer. Yet the man had been more relaxed than most Rangers she knew. He even let her pilot his own fighter, a Hunter-class that was designated for Rangers only.

Cala met him while she was healing in Mahara Kesh, one of the many Je’daii Temples spread across Tython. Garon Jard, that was his name, was among the other wounded Je’daii in need of healing. For the past month, the two of them were in bed-ridden with little to do, except to rest and consume the meals provided by Temple Master Calleh. Calleh, being a Selkath, limited her selection to sea foods, and Cala quickly grew tired of them. Only Garon’s company kept her sane, as it did now.

A small beep from the radar caught Cala’s attention. “We’re arriving at Kaleth! I’ll bring us out of the clouds!” she announced, titling the fighter downwards.

The silver lining flew over the fighter while it descended from the clouds. Through the viewport, the green and brown path of the Tythos Ridge’s mountainous path was now visible among the lush forests and valleys. Veering to the side, the Tythos Ridge was gone, and the four square towers of Kaleth stood, nestled right into the slope of the mountain range. Cala soon found she and Garon were not of the only ones as other crafts, fighters and freighters, went to and from the center of the Je’daii Order.

The comm unit buzzed with static, and a woman spoke, “This is Kaleth Control. Please identify yourself.”

Garon answered for Cala. “Control, this is Je’daii Ranger Garon. Requesting permission to land.”

“Acknowledged.” The voice was gone momentarily then came back. “West Tower, landing pad 37 is open. Land safely.”

“Thank you. Garon out,” Garon replied before he cut off the line. “It won’t be long, now. It should be nice seeing Kaleth again. Right, Cala?”

Cala held back a snort. On any other day, she would’ve agreed with Garon. She didn’t mind being back at Kaleth, but today… today was a day she didn’t want to see any old faces.

Cala slowed the fighter’s descent and circled around Kaleth’s four towers in a clockwork order–North, East and South, until she came across the West Tower. The wheels unfolded in time to roll on the runway, eliciting a slight bump for the two passengers as the fighter rolled into the designated landing pad that jutted from the tower.

The moment the fighter’s canopy opened, Cala tore off her helmet and hopped out of the cockpit. Her short, dark brown hair stunk a little with sweat, and her muscles felt a little uncomfortable from sitting in a cockpit for many hours. After all her battles, though, she found it easy to handle.

Cala trailed her eyes up the ancient stone of the West Tower and they squinted from the sun’s sharp glare. The famed “Temple of Knowledge” of the Je’daii, Kaleth stood like a colossus for thousands of years and for that time, it carried a great sense of the Force. Now more so than ever, with the gathering of other Je’daii whom Cala could sense inside the lower levels.

“Don’t forget these!” she heard Garon.

Turning, Cala caught the familiar long, black scabbard in her gloved hand. Sheathed inside of it was her Force-imbued blade, the weapon of a Je’daii. “Thanks,” she said to Garon.

“No problem. Now, come on,” and a helmetless Garon landed on his boots, his twin swords jostling against his left hip when he did.

Cala and Garon left for the lone door, and the guard, donning the Je’daii Ranger’s armored uniform, easily stood aside when he recognized their weapons. The door slid open to a long hall lit with glowing stones embedded into the wall.

As the two Je’daii strode through, the long red floors of the hall led down to a large corridor encased in silver. Many other Je’daii were there, ready to greet their fellows who were ready to enter. One such Je’daii whom Garon easily recognized, was a robed human whose bald head stuck out of his accented, open collar.

“Master Rajivari!” Garon called out.

Cala stared at the older human in surprise. Hero of the Despot War, and regarded as one of the wisest of masters, Rajivari was a name to be respected and revered. He trained many Je’daii through the years, and even when he laid his sword, he returned to lead the Je’daii into many battles.

Rajivari approached Garon with a smile on his face and shook hands with the Ranger. Garon, it’s good to see you! Calleh kept telling me your wounds took a long time to heal. I was wondering if you ever leave Mahara Kesh!”

“Well,” Garon let go of Rajivari’s hand and sheepishly scratched at his fiery hair, “Master Calleh always said I was a little impatient.”

The Ranger and Master shared a laugh before the latter noticed Cala. “Oh, yes!” Garon gestured to her. “Master Rajivari, this Journeyer Cala Brin. She was with me back at Mahara Kesh.”

Rajivari’s gaze fell on the Journeyer. “Cala Brin?”

There was a sense of apprehension, but Cala ignored it. “Yes, master. I’ve heard much about you. I don’t think we’ve had the chance to meet.” She held out her hand for the great master to shake.

Rajivari didn’t take it. “No, but I know your master. He mentioned you once during the war.”

Cala stared at the master in a new light whilst withdrawing her hand. “I see,” she said, cautious in her tone and movement.

Galon placed a hand on either shoulder of Rajivari and Cala. “We should get going,” he told them, “otherwise we might be late.”

Rajivari nodded. “You’re right. The service will start soon.”

He and Garon left with Cala trailing behind and staring on the Je’daii Master’s back.

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As soon as they left the ports, the streets of Kaleth were brimming with large crowds. Kaleth was always known to be crowded; the several towers and complexes built over the centuries turned Kaleth from the central temple of the Je’daii into a bustling a city. Cala caught notice of a few white communication towers from Kaleth’s several complexes, no doubt in a panic to coordinate the number of incoming arrivals for the event.

Several of those arrivals gathered around in the plazas. Humans, Twi’leks, and Zabraks, to name a few, filled every space, so much so Cala found it hard to move around and almost lost herself in the heavy crowd. She avoided that by sticking to the two elder Je’daii, more so with Garon than with Rajivari.

The walk eventually took the trio close to the front of the crowd. It was not as congested, offering plenty of elbow room and allowing Cala to look behind at the thousands of Je’daii. Cala turned forward, and finally noticed a large stone wall erected behind a white dais. The lines engraved on it were almost blurred from the sunlight, but they became familiar in seconds.

Quan-Jang, Xiang, Rori Fenn, Lanoree Brock, Tasha Ryo…

Cala’s heart dropped. Those were names, she recognized, names of Je’daii, her comrades, who fell in battle. Those were the names that brought her and many others to Kaleth.

There were many more, too. Masters, Rangers, and even Journeyers were among the fallen placed on the large tome stone.

“So many names,” Cala muttered, more to herself than anyone.

A hand rested on her shoulder, and Garon softly and sadly spoke, “I know. It has been trying on all of us.” She could hear him wistfully gaze at the monument.

Rajivari joined in, his own voice somber. “It was the same as the Despot War.” A sigh left him.

“Another war has left another tragedy upon us.”

“They have become one with the Force, master,” Garon said. “They are at peace.”

Conversation died down from Rajivari and Garon and from those around them. Eyes moved forward to a small group marching atop the dais, and everyone recognized the great Temple Masters, the leaders and most respected members of the Je’daii Order. Each one in garb of a master’s robe, like Rajivari, which made Je’daii like Cala and Garon seem informal–Cala with her casual dark jacket and trousers, and Garon in his tan tunic with red highlights.

From the few, Master Ketu, Kaleth’s own Temple Master, stepped forward to the podium and grasped it with worn hands. The man’s sparse beard frowned with his mouth in a somber expression similar to Cala and everyone else’s. Inhaling, Ketu began.

“My fellow Je’daii! Thank you all for making it today,” his voice booming through the podium’s speakers. “Millennia ago, our ancestors came here to Tython. They were mystics, scholars, philosophers, who sought to understand the mysterious power that we now call the Force. They traveled from all over the galaxy and gathered here, just as we gather today. They establish the rule of balance between the light of Ashla and the dark of Bogan, a rule which has remained with us for all these millennia. Less than two years, the Rakatan and their Infinite Empire invaded our home and threatened that balance. Many Je’daii–our brothers and sisters in the Force–fell against the Rakatan… and we mourn their loss.”

Again, Ketu paused, letting the emotions to swell inside of him. “But as we mourn, we must remember that they didn’t die in vain! Each of their sacrifices gave us a chance to beat back the invaders! Today, we’re gathered to honor our fallen comrades! Our heroes and family in the Force!”

With that, Ketu gestured to his fellow Temple Masters. Swords were drawn and raised into a salute. “My fellow Je’daii!” Ketu called, unsheathing his own weapon.

Cala heard swords sing as they were drawn from their sheaths. One of them had been one of Garon’s, and Cala drew out her own sword. Every Je’daii Master, Ranger, and Journeyer in the crowd, including Rajivari, joined in and raised their swords in a great wave of metal. Light gleamed off the blades and almost blinded a few Je’daii here and there. There were no complaints, and each one held their weapons firmly in the air.

Cala felt the Force permeated the crowd. She fell into it, into the light and darkness swaying over everyone with neither side overwhelming the other. A code of long past softly whispered into Cala’s mind, and she recited it with everyone else:

There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.

There is no fear, there is power.

I am the heart of the Force.

I am the revealing light of fire.

I am the mystery of darkness.

In balance with chaos and harmony, immortal in the Force…

'Immortal...' Cala repeated to herself, just as she and her fellow Je'daii held their swords, saluting and offering a few prayers for the fallen brethren.