"There is no emotion, there is peace.

There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.

There is no passion, there is serenity.

There is no chaos, there is harmony.

There is no death, there is the Force."

- The Jedi Code, from Collected Wisdom of the Jedi Masters

Patrick Stump stepped through the doors of the Jedi Temple, his lightsaber at the ready. He looked around, gazing at the grand columns and the wide hallways, but he wasn't here to admire the architecture. The Force was strong here, running through the building, through his fellow Jedi, through every living thing in the whole galaxy. Patrick let it guide him as he entered the Main Hall.

His assignment was simple. He was supposed to help the Younglings with defensive tactics in lightsaber combat. Normally, this would have been a task for Patrick's master, but with the Clone Wars in full swing, Master Mundi had sent his apprentice instead.

Patrick took a deep breath as he opened the door to the Training Rooms. He knew he wasn't prepared for this: it had only been a few years since he'd been a Youngling himself. He'd learned a lot fighting alongside Master Mundi, but surely, he wasn't ready to teach yet.

As soon as he opened the door, a tiny girl ran up to him. "Master Stump?" she said.

Patrick laughed. "You don't have to call me that," he said. "I'm still a Padawan."

"Master Stump, my finger hurts," the girl said.

Patrick bent down and inspected the girl's finger. There didn't appear to be anything wrong, but he said, "I'm going to go get you a bandage, but it's going to be okay. Just give me one second, and I'll be back."

"You promise?"

"I promise," Patrick said. He got up and headed upstairs to find a bandage for the girl, but as he ascended the staircase, he ran into Pete Wentz.

"What are you doing here?" Patrick asked Pete as he looked him over. He'd met Pete a few times before - they'd been in the same Youngling clan once or twice - but they'd gone their separate ways after the Initiate Trials. Patrick remembered him as an unruly, obnoxious kid who couldn't go to class without looking like a raccoon. It was a small miracle that Pete was still on track to become a Jedi Knight. Of course, he'd changed quite a bit in the time since they'd last seen each other. Back then, he was an awkward, acne-ridden thirteen year old, but he'd since grown into a shockingly handsome young man.

"I'm looking for a book," Pete said. "My master wants a copy of Collected Wisdom of the Jedi Masters, and she sent me to find it in the Ancient Texts Library. What are you doing here? I feel like I haven't seen you in forever."

"Teaching Younglings," Patrick said in a small, nervous voice. He tried to fight back the butterflies in his stomach, knowing that he couldn't let Pete make him feel this way, but it was no use.

"Wow, they're letting you do that?"

"Master Mundi had to be on Mygeeto."

"That's still really neat." Patrick was about to walk away when Pete asked, "Hey Patrick, do you happen to know where the Ancient Texts Library is? I haven't been in the temple in a while."

"It's upstairs," Patrick said. "I'll...I'll take you there."

Patrick was sure that it would be a quick detour. It couldn't take that long to find a book, and then he could return to the Training Rooms. Besides, he'd get to spend a little bit more time with Pete.

Patrick climbed upstairs, and Pete followed him, talking incessantly. "So Master Dystrala, Master Khras, and I fought some battle droids out in the Corporate Sector..."

"Dystrala's one of the New Wavers, isn't she?" Patrick said.

Pete nodded. "She's my master, but don't hold it against me," he said. "I know Ki-Adi-Mundi and the rest of the council aren't huge fans of the New Wave."

There were a lot of New Wave Jedi nowadays, a fact that Patrick's master blamed on Mace Windu, although even he distanced himself from the movement. They were dangerous: getting attached to others, giving in to their emotions, dabbling in the dark side of the Force. They claimed that they were still Jedi above all, that they were still loyal to the Republic and to the Force, but Patrick wasn't so sure.

Patrick and Pete finally reached the Ancient Texts Library, which turned out to be a tiny room stacked floor to ceiling with old books. There was barely room for both Padawans in there, but Pete and Patrick squeezed in.

"Are you okay?" Pete asked. "You look a little red."

"I'm fine," Patrick insisted. He tried his best to keep his distance from Pete, if only to keep his heart from exploding. "Which book were you looking for again?"

"Collected Wisdom of the Jedi Masters," Pete said.

Patrick looked up at the bookshelves, and he spotted an ancient, leather-bound book on the top shelf. "I think it's that one," he said, pointing up at the thick volume.

Pete reached for it, but he was too short. He jumped, and his fingertips grazed the shelf below the book, but it still wasn't enough. The book was out of reach. "Maybe you can reach it," Pete suggested.

"I'm even shorter than you," Patrick said.

"Maybe I can lift you up."

Patrick rolled his eyes. "Or you could use the Force."

Pete reached his hand in front of him, but nothing happened. "It's not working," he complained.

"Try harder," Patrick said.

Pete tried again, but the book didn't budge. "Can you do it?" he whined.

"Fine," Patrick said. He reached his hand out in front of him, took a deep breath, and let the Force flow through him. All of a sudden, the book fell off of the shelf and right into Patrick's hands.

"Whoa, that was amazing, Patrick," Pete said.

"Thanks," Patrick said, blushing again as he handed the book to Pete. He didn't think that getting the book was anything impressive - pulling objects with the Force was a basic skill - but Pete's praise made him feel like he had done something truly special.

That was when Patrick felt something, something that he could hardly describe. There was a deep, sudden sadness in his heart as he realized what this meant, these strange fluctuations, all of these souls rejoining the Living Force simultaneously.

"There's been a disturbance in the Force," he said. "It's...it's like a thousand fires, all going out at once. Do...do you feel it too?"

"Uhh...yeah, I think so," Pete said.

"Holy smokes," Patrick said quietly. "I wonder what happened."

"We're in the middle of a war, Patrick," Pete said. "There was probably just a battle or something."

"No, it's more than that," Patrick said. "I wouldn't feel it so strongly if it was just a battle. I think...I think Master Mundi might be dead."

He hated to say it, but he knew in his heart that it was true. As Patrick thought about what had happened to his master, a gray fog descended over his mind. Ki-Adi-Mundi had been a mentor, a friend, a father figure to him. Patrick had spent the last three years by Master Mundi's side, learning the ways of the Jedi, and now, he was dead. He knew that Mundi wasn't truly gone, that he was one with the Force now, but that didn't make Patrick miss him any less.

Patrick tried to remain calm, tried to find comfort in the Force, but nothing seemed to work. He leaned against a bookshelf, tears falling from his face.

All of a sudden, Pete gave him a hug. "I'm so sorry about your master, Patrick," he said. "I'm sure it's going to be okay though."

"I hope so," Patrick said, wondering what would happen now. The Jedi Council would most likely let him finish his training under a new master, but he couldn't imagine any other Jedi living up to Mundi's example.

Pete let go of Patrick, and for a few seconds, they were both silent. Then, Patrick heard the hum of a lightsaber, followed by a high-pitched scream.

"What's happening?" Pete asked nervously.

"I don't know," Patrick answered. "Maybe we should go outside and see. At the very least, we should make sure that the Younglings are okay."

"No way," Pete said. "If there's an intruder in the temple, we're safest here."

Patrick frantically locked the door as the screams continued. His heart was racing, and he hid in a corner as he heard wailing, loud gunshots, and again, the hum of a lightsaber.

"I bet it's Fun Ghoul," Pete speculated. "There was a rumor going around that he was going to rob the Jedi Temple."

"Common criminals don't wield lightsabers," Patrick said.

Pete and Patrick stayed silent for a while, afraid of whatever was going on outside. It seemed like the intruders were nowhere near the Ancient Texts Library, but that worried Patrick even more. What if there were other Jedi in trouble? What if the intruders had found the Younglings? Patrick wanted to help, but Pete had insisted that they should save themselves first, so he stayed in the Ancient Texts Library, panicking over the fate of the others in the temple.

Patrick heard footsteps, and then a voice. "The door's locked," someone said.

"Blast it open," a familiar voice replied.

Pete was about to say something, but Patrick gestured for him to remain quiet. They both ducked, and a blaster fired just over their heads. Pete clung to his book, and Patrick tried to breathe slowly to keep his heart from pounding out of his chest.

The intruder peeked through the hole in the door, and Pete and Patrick stayed low, hoping that they wouldn't be seen. The intruder looked into the library for a while and then said, "There's nobody in there."

As the intruders walked away, Pete and Patrick stayed silent. They heard another ear-piercing scream, but by that point, Patrick was just glad to be alive. Pete was right: for now, they just had to survive.

After what felt like forever, the noises died down. When everything went silent, Patrick waited for a while and then asked, "Do you think it's safe yet?"

"Yeah, I think so," Pete said.

Patrick stood up and unlocked the door, desperately hoping that Pete was right. The door swung open, and he and Pete left the room. Pete was still holding onto his book as the two of them went downstairs.

That was when they found the first body.

The boy was sprawled out on the staircase, his eyes fixated on the ceiling. There was a gaping hole through his middle, as if he'd been stabbed in the stomach with a lightsaber. He looked to be ten, maybe eleven years old.

They killed the Younglings too, Patrick realized as he stumbled away from the body in shock. Those children were innocent, defenseless, and the intruders had slaughtered them all. Pete carefully tiptoed around the body, and Patrick reluctantly followed him, even though all he wanted to do was break down and cry.

They headed into the Training Rooms, but when Patrick opened the door, the first thing he found was a tiny severed hand, covered in blood. He looked up, and there were dozens of small bodies scattered across the room, hacked to bits. The girl he had talked to earlier was in six pieces.

You can't see something like that without breaking down. You can't see something like that without losing your faith in the world. You can't see something like that without it changing you forever.

Patrick turned away and kept on running, with Pete following close behind. "Is there anyone out there?!" Pete screamed, but nobody answered.

"I think we're the only ones left here," Patrick said quietly. "We have to find Master Yoda and tell him what happened."

"Honestly, if Ki-Adi-Mundi's gone, we might be better off assuming that the other Jedi are dead too," Pete said. "We...we might be the only ones left."

Patrick thought about that for a while. Everything he knew, everything he loved, everything he'd built his life upon was gone in an instant. His friends, his mentors, everyone he knew was dead. It was just him and Pete against the rest of the galaxy.

"So what are we going to do now?" Patrick asked.

"Let's get out of the temple, and then we'll figure it out," Pete said. They ran through the halls, trying to avoid the corpses, and eventually, the two of them made it outside. Patrick took a few deep breaths of fresh air, but everything still felt wrong. It was as if the whole galaxy had suddenly been turned upside down.

That was when Patrick spotted a way out. Outside of the temple, there was an escape pod. It was small, but it could launch him and Pete into the upper atmosphere. If there was another living Jedi out there, or even a Jedi sympathizer, the two of them could get picked up and transported to another planet. They could escape whoever had killed Ki-Adi-Mundi, whoever had massacred all those Younglings in the temple. They could start over.

Patrick ran into the escape pod, and Pete followed him. It was tight, but they both managed to squeeze in. "Can you pilot this?" Patrick asked. "I can't reach the controls from this angle."

"Not without my astromech droid," Pete said.

"What happened to your droid?" Patrick asked.

"I left her on Tython," Pete said. "Can you please launch the pod?"

Patrick rolled his eyes. "Fine," he said. Pete moved over, and Patrick reached for the controls. He let the Force guide him, and soon, the pod began to rise into the air. As he piloted the escape pod upwards, he looked out the window, and he saw layers of clouds below them.

Pete and Patrick had already lost too much that day. Their fellow Jedi, their order, their whole way of life was gone forever. They didn't know who had done it, or why they had done it, or if they would find Pete and Patrick and exterminate the Jedi Order once and for all, but as Patrick steered the escape pod into the sky, he had a feeling that they would make it out alive.