Setting: Coruscant – Jedi Temple | Hidden Tython Sanctuary | Mandalorian Outpost
Date: 24 BBY – Two Years Before the Clone Wars
The Jedi shuttle returned to the Temple under quiet skies. The Council had registered the mission as "Force pilgrimage and attunement." They welcomed Cain's group back with nods of approval and veiled interest.
But none of them knew what had truly transpired.
Cain felt it the moment he stepped onto Temple grounds—the buzz of politics, dogma, and slow decay. The very air of the Temple was stale compared to Tython's wild, living breath.
But he said nothing.
Not yet.
Months passed.
Outwardly, Cain, Seris, Anakin, and Derran reintegrated into Temple life:
Daily classes with combat instructors. Temple duty rotations and galactic history lectures. Public meditations in the great halls. Off/ On planet missions (Used to also build connections and gather intel on galactic unrest)
But in truth, their days were split.
By day: Padawans.
By night: Builders.
Each evening, Cain and his circle gathered in a long-forgotten chamber beneath the archives, once used by early archivists for scroll preservation. Now it held four holocrons, a circle of meditation mats, and an encrypted holotable connected to Mandalorian allies.
Bo-Katan had already sent engineers, scouts, and advisors to Tython. They constructed the first hidden sanctuary:
A training circle built into the natural stone.A library carved into a cliffside with open-sky lighting.A modest hall where Jedi and Mandalorians could speak in peace.
One by one, the holocrons activated in quiet harmony.
Bastila Shan appeared often, guiding them through the discipline of Battle Meditation and the importance of clarity before conflict.
Satele Shan taught Anakin and Cain to see conflict as a test of soul, not just blade—reminding them of the cost of unity earned through violence.
Barriss and Seris favored Nomi Sunrider's holocron, learning to balance duty and emotion—finally beginning to understand Cain's view on love, compassion, and freedom and the techniques she shared .
Anakin and Derren gravitated toward Revan—who challenged him directly, always asking: "What do you fight for, and what are you willing to become?"
Cain watched as each of them grew—and as the Force between them sang in harmony.
Cain knew they needed more.
He began quiet conversations, asking questions others were too afraid to speak aloud.
To Jedi Knights who served in the Outer Rim and had seen the Republic's rot.
To Temple archivists who quietly disagreed with memory restrictions.
To Guardians who whispered of the Battle of Galidraan with shame, not pride.
He offered no rebellion.
Only truth.
He told them of Tython, of the vision, of the sanctuary.
Some politely declined.
But a few… leaned closer.
Among them:
Master Renz Kiral, a battlefield healer tired of the Temple's passivity. Knight Taliya Vorn, a Jedi Guardian who'd seen too many soldiers die and questioned the Council's silence .Archivist Erid Masan, who had begun decoding old Je'daii texts.
One night, Cain approached Master Plo Koon alone during evening meditations in the Temple's upper halls.
"Master," Cain said, bowing respectfully, "may I ask something… that may be dangerous?"
Plo turned his calm, mask-hidden gaze toward him. "If it is dangerous, you are wise to ask."
"I've heard rumors," Cain continued. "That you developed a technique. One… that combines elemental Force energy with martial control. A technique others say you shouldn't have made."
Plo was silent for a moment.
Then: "They called it Electric Judgment."
Cain nodded. "Can you teach it—to me, Seris, and Anakin?"
Plo folded his arms, studying the boy.
"Electric Judgment is not lightning," he said. "It is born of will, of purpose. It does not thrive on rage—it demands clarity, and truth in action. But… it is dangerous for those who don't understand themselves."
Cain stood firm. "We want to understand."
Plo looked toward the Temple spires.
"…Then come tomorrow at the east training terrace. Before sunrise. Bring the others."
Scene 6: Codex Entry 014 – The Rising Flame
The cracks are widening. And through them… I see the sky.
The holocrons are no longer teachers—they're companions. Whispering things I needed to hear… and warnings I dare not ignore.
Tython is growing. Our sanctuary now shelters over thirty—Mandalorian builders, Jedi sentinels, archivists, and even two clones who escaped early conditioning.
We do not call it a new Order yet. That would be too bold.
But in our circle… we no longer kneel to tradition. We kneel to the Force.
One year. That's what I asked for.
Now the countdown has begun.