16 GRS, Coruscant
18 Hours after the Execution of Order 66

All they could hear were the grunts. The screams. The yells.

But that wasn't the bad part.

Wasn't the part that terrified the young children, crowded around in the dark room. The part that scared them, the part that would haunt their dreams, was the disgusting aroma of burnt flesh from the blaster bolts that had rained down like fire, ending each fighting Jedi they had come across. They weren't skilled enough to notice the difference, but some of the bodies reeked too of lightsaber wounds. It was something that might have disturbed the children even more, had they known.

The room they were in was one that had belonged to the members of the Jedi Council.

If even one of their number had been here, they could have stopped this madness. Perhaps the great Master Yoda, or Master Windu, or even the hero, the Chosen One, Master Skywalker. It was said that he was destined to bring balance to the force, to destroy the Sith. Surely a hero as great as he could destroy this entire legion of soldiers? They didn't understand why these soldiers that had once fought alongside the Masters of the Council had now turned against them. They weren't confused, they just did not understand.

All they knew was that they were terrified, and it was up to Sors Bandeam, the oldest of them by less than a year, to keep the group together and sane.

He was terrified as well, but he knew nothing would be solved by crying. He would be brave, just as Master Yoda had taught him to be. Only eight years old, he already felt the need to lead his brethren. Master Windu had told him once that he had great potential, and might end up on the Council on day in the future.

Right now, those words were the only thing keeping him stable.

He didn't quite understand the dynamic yet, but Yoda had begun teaching, teaching all of them the dichotomy. Fear led to the dark side. So, by Sors reckoning, that meant they must be fearless. He certainly didn't feel fearless, and he was sure that his brothers and sisters gathered here agreed. Still, he put on the facade of bravery in the face of adversity. One of these days he would truly overcome fear, and then he would become a great Jedi.

But, as the door opened, letting a harsh blue light into the room, he realized that today was not that day.

Because it was Master Skywalker and he was here.

He ran up to him, like a child to his father, or a disciple to his messiah. He hugged his leg, his resolve finally cracking. It was a show of fear, but he did not care.

He was simply too young to handle this situation. Had he kept it together, he might have asked a more strategic question, but in his current cracked state, all that came out was - "Master Skywalker, you've come to save us!"

Thereby officially relieving himself of the burden of duty, he looked up at the tall, dark young man, tears in his eyes.

He was still too young and inexperienced to read people, but he did notice Skywalker's face contort in pain, and then relax once more, becoming fatherlike withsomething close to affection. What he didn't notice was the calculating look in the dark yellow eyes, or the hand slowly drifting away from the lightsaber at his belt. The hand which a moment ago might have slain innocent children, and that now moved forward with a strange tenderness and caressed the blonde hair of the child's head.

"Yes, youngling. I've come to rescue you," Skywalker said.

And with that, he led the ten of them out of the council room. They were the only survivors of the temple massacre.

They were the lucky ones.