Jedi Enclave

The battered Carrack-class light cruiser descends to the ruins of the Jedi Enclave. Looking at it, it had obviously been repaired several times throughout the years, although it had just as obviously been neglected for many years. The battered cruiser settles on what had once been the front lawns, it's worn dark blue paint scheme seeming to fit in perfectly with dusk over the ruins. The gangplank lowers, and twenty soldiers wearing the livery of the 501st Legion exit. They click tactical lights to their helmets and blasters, and enter the ruins, in search of usable barracks space. Calin leads his men down into the lower levels, as twenty more soldiers, these wearing black armor with crimson trim descend, and head to the upper levels. In the lower levels, Calin and his men pass the ancient carapaces of long-dead laigreks. Calin inspects the corpse, while the rest of the group set up a perimeter.
"Hmm. This was killed by a lightsaber, long ago. Let's keep moving." Calin stands up, and leads his squad further into the Enclave's basement. Eventually, they come out back where they had entered.

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Salvo leads his men into the upper levels of the Jedi Enclave. Salvo looks around at the open air gardens, which have become overgrown in the absence of caretakers, and the main council chamber, which the roof has caved in on, crushing many of the once custom made seats. Underneath a roof girder, a crushed human skeleton is visible, testament to the violence that took place there. Salvo and his patrol continue, finding the room that their maps had labeled as the training room sealed. The patrol moves on to the guest rooms. The first two doors are open and completely charred, the first room appearing to have sustained a direct turbo-laser strike. The third door is closed. The patrol takes up a defensive position, and Salvo keys the door. It opens, revealing a small mountain of rubble.
"Fierfek. I guess we'd need to get this cleaned up if we want to use this..."
Salvo leads his patrol back to the entrance to finish securing the level. Once the level is fully secure, he leads his team back to the training room. He inspects the door, noticing that the controls have been destroyed.
"Shab... Get some charges on the door. I want to see what's inside."
Lieutenant Spike places a detonation charge on the door.
"Charges set. Let's blow this so I can go get a drink."
"Right... Great motivation Spike. CLEAR!!!" Salvo thumbs the detonator as the other troopers brace themselves. The center of the door explodes, causing the shattered remains to retract into their housings. As the smoke clears, the room is revealed to be empty, save for wreckage that was once training equipment. Weapons litter the floor, evidently dropped by fleeing personnel, or knocked off of their racks by the long-forgotten bombardment.
"About what I expected.... I guess we had better go report our findings." Salvo and his men exit the level, and regroup with Calin and Wulf's groups.
"Well, the basement is clear. All of the cloth stuff is long rotted away, but there is a fair bit of barracks space down there, once we clear out all of the dead laigreks. What did you find up top Salvo?"
"Upper levels are clear, although extremely damaged. We found a small armory in the old training room though. There were a couple of weapons I didn't recognize, but for the most part they were from our era."
Calin sets rotating shifts to ensure that the ruins remain secure, and the troopers not on duty board the ship for the night.

The ruins had an odd air to them. A preserved sense of grandeur demolished, home shattered, safety annihilated. In its time this place had been a secret haven for the jetiise, a refuge and safe harbor in times of storm, somewhere that those distressed could hide and gather strength. The siit had come, as they were wont to do in their unending war with the jetiise over whose side of the spinning coin was prettier. They had come in their way to bring fire and death. Trull had read some files on that attack; the siit had launched a bombardment from orbit before they had set feet on the ground to attack the Praxeum. This was standard war practice, and had been for as long as sentients had traveled between stars and waged war between planets. The theory was nothing new either: launch a ranged attack on the enemy's defenses to break their cohesion before the fighting closed. The verde used it as often as any other armed force.

Yet here, Trull could not help but feel that it had been a cowardly act. There was a wrongness in the air around the rubble; this had not been simply a military action against a stronghold. This had been an attack against a home. Squatting in the grass on a hill overlooking the ruins, he let a handful of soil run through his fingers, dusting the tips of his gloves. A bittersweet smile twisted his lips. They were his enemy, the jetiise, but that did not make them into less than persons. Trull knew the pain of a home destroyed; after all, if he did not, would he have ever entered Kad's service? Who but Kad'Harangir could give the strength necessary to overcome the brokenness of a home destroyed? For that shared knowledge, that shared pain, Trull sympathized with the jetiise who had been here, who had died trying to save a home already broken.

"For you who died in a warrior's spirit," the priest whispered, kneeling in the grass and bowing his head in prayer, "I pray peace to your souls, wherever they lie, and may you know that this warrior knows your pain and does not rejoice in your needless deaths. You who fought in defense of your home, I honor you." He remained bowed a moment longer, making his traditional prayers to his master, then rose and collected his helm, sliding it onto his head and activating the seal as the HUD booted up. Taking his spear from where it stood in the dirt, Trull turned to the men waiting behind him. A handful of brave warriors who had distinguished themselves, who had taken up shields like his own and fallen into step behind him. Not of his Priesthood, no, but simply brothers in arms. Conspicuous among them was the towering shape of Trull's cousin Corvo, the titan in his white armor. Though he kept a shield slung across his back now, it was more symbolic for him: he denied needing any weapon beyond the massive sword in his hands.

"Alright, let's go down and give it a once-over," Trull called. His men, his Shields, formed a double column and followed after him, trotting down the hill towards the ruins. As they approached, they slowed their pace and fanned out into a wide arc, shields raised and weapons raised, standard practice being to keep a carbine or heavy pistol in the main hand. Trull carried his Ripper for now, spear hung on the magnetic hardpoint on his back.

Abandoned though it seemed, the reason the Shields had come here was on rumors of jetiise haunting these ruins. They were creatures of tradition, after all, and it was not unreasonable to think that they would attempt to revive this base. The reports had been very tenuous, however. Trull had volunteered to take his Shields and explore the truth - so far, it seemed the reports were unfounded. Trull expected to be lifting off and returning to the fleet shortly, but duty insisted that he investigate thoroughly.

When they found the first tracks, Trull felt his pulse race. A medium-sized boot print, made for a humanoid foot. Jetiise were here? The Shields were immediately on alert, sweeping the rest of the Praxeum in mere minutes. What they found was less than exciting. Some animal tracks, and a handful of humanoid tracks, but nothing indicating an actually noteworthy presence. Nothing that said there were any efforts to rebuild or restore. Maybe a few vagrants trying to squat there. All the same, there had been activity here, and recently. That meant there would need to be a search. The Shields vacated the Praxeum and returned to their waiting dropship. The engines hummed as the Shields boarded and were carried skyward. The craft maintained a reasonable altitude, beginning a spiral search pattern.

The LAAT/abn "Black Death" cruises in to land at the abandoned Enclave. It lands near the freighter, and the eleven soldiers disembark. The gunship takes off again, and goes to provide air cover. Major Calin and his men spread out to examine the landed ship. Once they establish that no one is on board, they place a shaped charge on the hull, in such a manner as to be immediately visible to anyone desiring to board the ship. Calin then and his men begin to follow the trail left by the unknown visitors to the planet. "Fan out and keep alert. Given this location, it's entirely possible our 'guests' are Jedi."

A response comes back from the command center of the Imperial Outpost. "This is Lieutenant Erik, of the 505th Specialized Infantry Battalion. We have military control of the planet. First of all, you're kriffing right it won't end well. We don't take unauthorized landings kindly. Secondly, who or what the kriff is the CUF, and why should we care?"

"BoB, any luck with the lights? What happened to the Jedi we left stationed here anyway?"

Arden walks further into the enclave, remembering his way even through the darkest parts as though it were fully lit by proper lighting. he leads the group to the council chambers where he sits on his seat and opens all of his secret tunnels at the same time.

"I found many secret passages in this place when we first came here, and have used that knowledge to construct these, however I do not recall the one you mentioned so perhaps we should follow you memory now instead of mine."

"Perhaps this will help."

Arden activates a 3d holo image of the current enclave along with images of each incarnation that he oversaw as well as the original and then, once everyone had been given ample time to study the changes, he moves them into an overlay so they become one image.

"Does this help?