A few hours had passed since the battle with the droids and night had fallen once again on the Fire Plains. Back near the entrance of the Ipo’s cavern, the Jedi and clones had set up camp and were resting from the day’s excitement. Gabrall, Mathan, and Gadina were resting near a small fire and were conversing with each other about what do next with their situation. As they spoke, P24 rolled up next to Gadina and gently nudged her in the back.

“Hey P24. What’s up?” she asked the small droid. P24 whistled quietly and then turned his dome in the direction of a large hill. There atop the hill was Melandi. She stood alone as she stared out into the distance towards the remains of Dastra.

Night had fallen upon the plains of Ilo. Above, the usually starlit sky was now colored black from the smoke rising from the burning city. Gathered around a small fire were the five Jedi, Hisoler, and P24. The rest of the clones had been sent down into the cave to assist the Ipo. Standing nearest the fire was Gabrall. He was facing the others as he explained the predicament of the Ipo.

“We have to help them,” he said softly, “I made a promise.” Gabrall turned to stare into the orange flame.

Gabrall stood in awe at the grandeur of the cavern before him. It was a gigantic room that extended at least 5 miles back with a ceiling that rose 50 feet into the air. Strange glowing crystals grew down from the ceiling in all directions and filled the room with a soft, warm light. On the ground, there were hundreds of small huts from which the hiding Ipo were now emerging. From a group of Ipo near the entrance of the cave, an older looking man began to approach the Jedi. The Ipo looked older in years, but the Jedi could sense an incredibly strong presence from him. As the man neared, Gabrall could see the exhaustion in his face. His eyes were sunken and dark and their fabled blue glow was faded and dull. Gabrall bowed his head slightly and went to meet the man.

The sun was now setting behind Dastra. Boz Elysa stood proud on the balcony of the small base as she stared out into the distance. The once clear sky was now thick with smoke. Below, the city of Dastra no longer shone blue, but now glowed orange from the flames that engulfed the city. It seemed to now blend into the Fire Plains to form a brilliant orange firestorm amidst the backdrop of the setting sun. The great city of art was now gone. Its ashes flew in the howling winds. The Hall of the Seven Winds seemed to scream in agony as they blew through the fallen structure. It sounded as if Inspiration itself was no longer whispering, but crying with the entire might of its voice.

A loud boom sounded through the Ilo sky. A Jedi medical cruiser was now descending upon the remains of the crashed Halbert. On the ground, clone troopers were setting up camp and scanning the horizon for any sign of oncoming attack. The wind on the ground began to pickup as the ship grew closer to the ground. Upon hearing the noise, Gabrall, Hisoler, and Mathan emerged from the wreckage and were now looking at the descending ship.

The CIS base was chaos as it prepared for the return of Boz Elysa. All round, droids scattered and hid to avoid the wrath of the Neimoidian. Three green painted tactical droids stood in the center of the command room arguing about which should face Boz. “Whose idea was it to tell the Mistress that there was a Republic shuttle heading towards this planet,” cried GEE-C43. “I think it was that droid,” said GEE-C45 as he pointed to a battle droid standing near the counsel. The battle droid looked up and pointed at himself, “What? No . . . I didn’t tell her . . . I don’t even know what . . . ahhhhh!” The battle droid raised both his arms into the air and ran towards the doors.

The sun began to rise over Dastra. The Great Fire Plains ignited in a brilliant orange glow as the silver stalks caught the morning light. Normally, the sounds of music coming from the city could be heard amongst the hills, but on this day, only the sound of metal clanking could be heard.
On the plains, the Separatist force lay in wait. Their hundreds of droids walked the field. A dozen tanks hovered around the perimeter of their camp. In the center, a small base stood to house their leader and high above, three assault ships flew towards the city. On board, Boz Elysa prepared to inspect her new prize.

At the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, the Council Chambers were dark. A faint blue light filled the room and the shadows of the twelve masters flickered on the walls. They were gathered in a large circle, with their faces poised and intent. In the center of the room stood the image of Elder Mallis Kuul. The Council had received the distress call from Ilo and was listening to the Elder’s plea for help.

Night had fallen on the planet’s surface. The air was cool and Dastra glowed a soft blue as the moon reflected off the buildings. Unaware of the approaching invasion, the Ipo, having evolved past the need for sleep, continued on with their nightly rituals within the city. The streets of Dastra were filled with people, their eyes glowing like brilliant sapphire stars. All around, the sounds of writers and poets musing about their latest works could be heard. To the east, the air was filled with the melodies and lyrics of musicians practicing and sharing their gift. In the center of the city, the Hall of Inspiration was filled with young students meditating in silence amongst the crystal gardens, all waiting for Inspiration to find them and reveal to them the path by which they would express and translate the it’s whispers. In the most northern part of the city, a large crowd had gathered in the Hall of Seven Winds, a grand white stone building that was built in such a way that it sung whenever the winds blew. The Hall had served as a grand stage for the best of Ilo’s artists. There they could reveal what Inspiration had whispered to them in a magnificent display of beauty. On this night, two of Ilo’s greatest were about to premiere their latest masterpiece.

On the Great Fire Plains of Ilo, all was peaceful. The sun’s light shone bright in the sky and its rays reflected on the silvery grass making the expanse appear as if on fire. A light breeze swept the ground and fanned the flames. All around the sounds of nature were all that could be heard, a beautiful day by any standard.

Nearby, the city of Dastra could be seen with its odd twisting buildings rising into the skyline, their sapphire colored walls glowing in the sun. Built in a unique architectural style, the city lacked and corners or straight lines for all its streets and walkways curved and twisted in beautiful patterns. At the center of Dastra stood the Hall of Inspiration, a magnificent domed building with brilliant crystal structures that twisted and reached into the sky. Truly a site to behold.

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away. . .

Following the devastation of the Clone Wars, the Jedi Order was all but extinct. All that remained of their legacy were the tales told of their great exploits throughout the galaxy. On the small planet of Ilo, the Elder gathers his village at the Temple of Five to share one such tale.

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