A slender, dagger-shaped craft emerged from hyperspace, flanked by a quartet of slender fighters with broad, angular wings, angling to approach the distant, massive form of Graveyard Station. A moment later the comm waves were filled with, "Graveyard Station to unidentified approaching vessels. State your intended course and identify yourselves."

"This is shuttle Mortrax on approach. Transmitting identification codes now."
"Shuttle Mortrax, you are cleared for docking bay seven."

All around similar events were taking place, Jedi in single-man fighters and representatives in diplomatic corvettes alike trickling to the station, one after another. The station itself was titanic, a titanic spar eight kilometers long holding hundreds of docking bays, with a massive, wheel-shaped habitat capping it. In sheer mass Graveyard Station was the size of a large battle fleet. Over a million beings called it home, and hundreds of thousands more passed through in the massive refugee fleets from the wartorn territories. It was a city, a hospital, a refuge, a sanctuary in space, nestled among the ruins of the world that had once been much the same.

A melancholy pervaded the place, and from the small cabin he had in the main structure of the station Jedi Master Aldoran Kell stood, he could feel it. A thousand years ago a world had been here, billions of lives snuffed out in an instant by the dark side. The wound in the Force from that tragedy had healed, but it was still a fragile spot in the Force, suffused with all the lost potential from the untimely deaths of billions.

It was a peculiar choice for a conclave of Jedi, but not one he had made without cause. The spectre of the Dark in this place would, he prayed, gather the minds of his fellows to a singular cause, and allow them to ignore their divisions until the greater threat was dealt with. At that thought he clutched the datapad in his pocket, the crucial shards of intelligence needed to sway the Jedi to action.

One by one, the Jedi continued trickling aboard. The Conclave had begun.

There was a soft cracking noise, which echoed through the cockpit of the Silver Galaxy, as Elona stretched her body and bones for the last time on this journey. She has been sat in the pilot's seat for the better part of eight hours, making course corrections whenever necessary, but for the most part simply trying to bide her time. This conclave was all she could think about, even if she tried she couldn't remove it from her mind. Not that was necessarily a bad thing, it allowed her more than enough time to prepare for the onslaught of questions she would no doubt receive if someone were to recognise her.

She may call herself a Jedi, a watchman by trade and she may follow their ways. But she wasn't exactly on speaking terms with her fellows, which very much complicated things for her. And try as she might, she couldn't think of a damn thing to say to anyone if they asked. She'd met only a handful of Jedi in her lifetime, and out of that handful, only one of them remembered what they were. The others were ... 'different' to say the least. She liked to rationalize the actions they'd taken by having them fear her, but that didn't exactly help. Since painting yourself as the enemy isn't good for ones self esteem. At the end of the day, they called themselves Jedi, and if they had even the smallest hint of sense remaining, they'd know whatever threat remains out there is much more important than a mindless witch hunt,

Then with the flicking of a switch, her small little dainty craft transitions from Hyperspace and into the real world, in that moment she could feel the presence of every Jedi here, as if they were broadcasting their presence. She looked up through the screen which protected her from the barrenness of space and saw as hundreds of ships slipped into being, and in that moment she realised a few things.

Whoever this Jedi Master was, the one who called together this conclave he was big, not in the physical sense that was. But he had managed to do what no other Jedi had done in quite sometime, and that was bring them all together. While a Jedi may be strong with their blade, or even the force it wasn't that what made them a force to be reckoned with. It was their unified voice, Elona had read about a time when the Jedi were not broken sects all of different ideals, but of a single unified order that stood against the darkness in the galaxy. If even some of that could be restored here ...

Then whatever evil that remains hidden wouldn't stand a chance.

As everything came to her, and she slowly realised what was truly afoot, she could only muster what she needed to say. "Shit." Those four letters easily expressed her thoughts upon this revelation. The Jedi were a force of nature, and one didn't simply call upon a force of nature unless there was something of a truly terrible nature happening.

Cassandra stood aboard the Pax Victorem, a 550 meter long medium-heavy cruiser that was the most technologically advanced ship Kuati Drive Yards had designed yet. It was sleek and very obviously armed, at once a show of force, wealth, and being just small enough to not be a direct threat to any of the other delegations. Cassandra stood against the wall of the bridge, watching over her charge and the man who was technically her superior officer. A son of the head of Kuati drive yards, he was an intelligent moron in her estimation. Not worthy of being regarded by his name, as his professionalism when it came to her was practically non-existent. He had slung his arm over her shoulders and called her Cass to the point where either thing simply made her want to hit whoever had the nerve to do so, and in some cases she did. Today seemed to be no exception as she was called to his side while they came out of hyperspace.

"Time to make our grand entrance Cass." He said as the station came into view.

"Please sir, call me Cassandra or Colonel Alaric, even simply Colonel will suffice." She replied, the line well practiced to hide her annoyance.

"Nonsense Cass, Cass is a better name for you anyway. You should lighten up more." He replied, Cassandra's eye twitching lightly at the repeated usage, but she remained dutiful and said nothing. The com came alive as the station hailed them.

Military vessel, state your purpose in this part of space immediately.

Obviously the attempt to impress had instead been interpreted as a threat. Considering they sat right on the verge of what would be deemed unacceptable it was no surprise.

"Why we are here for the Conclave of course." He replied as they sent the proper codes along with the required information on their ship, and nothing more. A sigh could be heard as they confirmed the ship was in fact beneath regulation for what was allowed, arguably. With the com now off the fool turned to her to begin grousing.

"He sighed at me, how dare he sigh at me. He understands nothing of the nature of these things. You must show your best self to your peers or else you look like a fool."

Too late. She though as she replied with a simple yes sir. The location of their docking being sent to them as the ship began to move to the destination. Her hand momentarily clenching into a fist as he continued to whine at her the entire time. She forced her hand to unclench as part of her wanted nothing more than to strangle the thing in front of her. Were it not for some of the others on this ship and in the drive yards itself sharing her opinions behind closed doors, she may seriously have considered going AWOL. Cassandra would never do it, but she would have come close.

Zeven had pulled together all of his resources so he could try to make the local government see that coming to this conclave would be beneficial. After a short passage of time they agreed, and sent him along. Zeven sat next to a handful of talkative delegates on board a transport ship that his home systems government had provided. The ship was narrow, and grey with two red stripes that ran down the middle of it. It was a small transport ship. Not exactly made to transport large numbers, but more to show off a small group. Zeven didn't exactly enjoy the flashy ride, but at least it was comfortable. The delegates were only interested in how much money and trade could be made at the conclave. Zeven found that talk boring quite fast. He ended up on the small bridge making small talk with the captain and his crew. The Captain didn't exactly like the idea of bringing delegates to the conclave, but didn't mind taking him. Zeven couldn't figure out if it was out of distrust with the delegates or something else.

Zeven had actually only ever been around two other jedi besides his master, and even then he didn't even try to talk to them. He had in a way hid himself from them by focusing on training. The thought of being around an entire spaceport of jedi was a little unnerving. He sigh and mumbled, "No training to hide in now."

A voice announced that we were approaching graveyard station. The feeling of so many beings intuned with force made him a bit nauseous. The delegate next to him put his hand on his shoulder and gave him an empathetic smile. A moment later Zeven stood and moved towards the exit ramp as the ship landed on the station. The delegates were going to stay in place for a moment so they can plan. With a shrug he stepped off the ship.

"Look I'm just saying it does nothing for the property value," Ozrick offered apologetically as he began powering down the diplomatic corvette of the Jedi Guides.

"It has nothing to do with that, the name is a remembrance to the billions that died that die that day, so that people remember that when they come here for succor asylum, or healing at the hospital, or a conclave of Jedi's," Master Kernden irritably retorted to, beginning to tire of his apprentices lack of decorum.

"Hold the fuck up, this place is a hospital to? This place, the place named, Graveyard Station, is a hospital... So at some point a paramedic told a dying man 'don't worry we're going to get you to Graveyard as soon as possible,' your are saying no one thought that would be a terrible idea to name a medical station after the place you put dead people." Energetically interjected Ozrcik.

"Ok, first, things first, it's not just a hospital, it's also a city-" Kernden started to explain before, "WAIT! so on top of that someone also thought 'Honey I think I kids will have a bright future here in Graveyard," Ozrick interrupted.

"AND SECOND," Yelled Kernden now fuming, " Could you show a just an iota of decorum, I know being a upitty arrogant bitch seems to be vital to your life functions given how dearly you seem stick to that no matter the situation, but given that this conclave has the potential to change the galactic order, just maybe the force will grant you the strength to act like the Jedi you are for one day!"

A period of silence fell between them, in that time Kernden centered himself, doing so reminded Korick to do the same. As he focused he could not rid himself of the gnawing despair in his stomach that had stuck with him since they first entered Alderon's debris field.

"Sorry, Chief, I'm just nervous, I mean can't you feel it? This place is just, I can't name it, but somethings not right." Ozrick apologized.

"I feel it too, but it's to be expected given what happened here, when an entire world was destroyed in an instant, it ripped a wound in the force that has only begun to heal. Remember your connection to the force lets you feel events that have passed as well as those yet to come my apprentice. Though I am interested to see why this place was chosen. And one last thing, call me Master, not Chief, it'll help if we're seen using the same customs as everyone else. Common ground and all that." Kernden replied understandingly, as he got out of the co-pilot's seat. " I need to go make sure everyone we brought is accommodated, I will call you when I need you, in the mean time explore the station, get an idea for what it is exactly your feeling, I will have questions later."

With that Master Kernden left the cock-pit and gathered the rest of the delegation to find whoever was organizing the more mundane aspects of the conclave, leaving Korick to start wandering the docks.

Zeven had begun to wonder around the docks. Trying his best to not draw attention, or crate any trouble. the name for the station hardly fit how it actually acted. Graveyard Station felt just as alive as any planet. Though underneath all of this life, He could feel the pain of many sudden deaths. From what he could tell many of the other Jedi around him had felt it also. some seemed to speek of it amongst themselves.

Zeven walked about for a little while until he found a corner that was without a group of robes filling it. Turning around to look back he could see his governments group of delegates had finally gotten off of the ship and were heading his way. As they pasted one approached me handing me a comm and stating that they were going to their assigned rooms. Zeven nodded and took the comm in hand then set it into a pocket in his robe.

Sitting on a small cargo box he felt a little lonesome. Most of the Jedi had at least come with someone with their order that they were apart of. At least coming here he could figure out if he wanted to join any of them. Zeven sighed then pulled out his master's lightsaber. He was sure that his master would of wanted to be here, but he had no idea what his master would of wanted to do here. With a sigh Zeven put his master's lightsaber back on his belt, and decided he would try to people watch.

Fully armed and armored now, Cassandra dutifully followed as the group walked through the hangar. The diplomatic attaches and security force was once again as large as allowed. This time though, she was glad for his arrogance, it allowed her to actually adequately protect the poor bastard for once. However she very quickly had to resist the urge to stab him herself as the man snaked an arm around her waist.

"You really should reconsider becoming my Telbun, I'm sure I could convince my father to allow it. Your family would be set for life." Every muscle screamed to strangle the shit for his suggestion and presuming she would do it for a big enough check. However she managed to hold back.

"Thank you sir, but it would be unprofessional and unseemly. You must present yourself in a manner appropriate for your station sir." She said, her voice emotionless while she thanked every god in the galaxy for the tinted visor on her helmet. If one could see inside the helmet they would see gritted teeth and eyes promising a very painful death. She was thankful as their path brought them by some Jedi on the docks. She managed to extricated herself in the name of establishing the standard distance required between them and her charge.

"Well, then." she spoke out loud, feeling confident. "Let's do this." The Silver Galaxy's engines roared to life, and began pushing the ship towards the rather imposing structure that was known as Graveyard Station. She understood why the station was named as such, but it didn't really ring well with her. Nor did it really roll off the tongue that much. She dismissed those thoughts, she wasn’t here to criticise the naming of a station, no she was here for the Conclave. While she doubted her attendance would change much of anything, the call asked for all Jedi to come here, so naturally she did.

"Graveyard Station to unidentified approaching vessels. State your intended course and identify yourselves."

Formality was a must at this point, just because the person on the other end was just a dock worker meant nothing. She needed to treat them with respect, the Jedi didn't need more bad press. "This is the vessel Silver Galaxy, requesting docking permission." As she said that, her hands moved across the console in front of her, transmitting the necessary data.

The sheer amount of traffic coming through the station at this point made an instantaneous response impossible, and she was okay with that. It’s not like she was a diplomatic vessel, or anyone important for that matter. After a moment she received a response in the form of a flight path, and a docking location.

She manouvered the Galaxy in it’s flight path, and after a small wait docked on the station.

With landing procedures completed, Ozrick stepped out of the corvette and out into the whirlwind of activity that was the landing bay. Crafts of every size landed all around him, dozens of delegations scrambled in every direction in varying states of organization. Station crew members ran left and right, scrambling to deal with influx and hundreds of protocol violations at once. The thin air carried the smell of ozone and the sound of dozens of arguments. And that was simply the scene from his physical senses, through the force he could feel the presence of hundreds of Jedi starkly against the background of the great wound in the force.

As he made his way out of the landing bay he began performing an exercise Kernden had taught him to isolate what the force was making him feel. It began with him taking inventory of everything he was feeling. The pressure on the soles of his feet as he walked, the cold air on his skin, the tug of his clothing, that itch on the back of his head, an ache in his left elbow from and old injury. Next he moved onto more emotional sensations; irritability from tabac withdrawal Maybe I can sneak a cigarra while Kenden is away; fear from being around this many Jedi's for the first time Kernden's right I barely act like a Jedi, how can I expect these guys to buy it; anxiety from sensing the wound in the force I felt this sometime on Taris in Memorial District, such an unnatural amount of death; and finally grief from now where what am I grieving? Was it the people of Alderaan killed long ago with out a chance of resisting? No this felt closer to him some recent like the loss of a family member. But he couldn't remember what or who it was.

This was what the force was making him feel, if he knew if he followed it he would discover something, he just didn't know what. He snapped out of his meditation just in time avoid running into another delegation. Not Jedi by the look of them, a merchant prince judging by the size of his security detail. For a brief moment he looked into the visor of one of the troopers, something told him that they looked back but it the tinted visor made it impossible to be sure. For a split second the grief he was feeling lessened. It wasn't much but it sent his inspector's intuition into overdrive. So he took a few quick steps and caught up the commando and began walking along side her. After a moment he thought of something to say to Cassandra, "Don't suppose you would mind telling me who that is," he asked, pointing to Kuati heir.

Her visor trained on the boy, an assassin generally didn't walk up to a bodyguard and ask who their target was, so she didn't send him away. Part of her was also glad for the fact that this Jedi gave her superior a reason to stay away. With him being so absentminded though she made sure to keep him far enough away she could react if she needed to. The comm kicked on as she spoke, her voice unfiltered in any way as was standard, with a response that was rote with no attempt made to try and hide it.

"He is Giddean Kuat, heir to Kuat Drive Yards and Chosen Successor to lead the Republic of Kuat. Son of the patriarch of the Kuat family, all glory to them and the Republic." She regarded him further, he obviously wasn't a master by any stretch of the imagination. Hopefully this kid didn't try anything stupid with his distinct lack of diplomatic skills. Last thing that was needed was an incident caused by a minor Jedi.

"And who are you? Which delegation are you with kid?" Her voice was much less formal now, and the lack of concern involving a force sensitive evident in her voice and body language now.

"Kuat Drive Yards?" The mere mention of them sent the pilot on a rambling series of questions, and caused him to ignore the fact she had just refered to him as a kid. " No way! hey is it true what they're saying about the inertial dampeners on their new line of star fighters? Do they really produce more tonnage than every other shipyard combine? What about the-" Ozrick cut himself off when he remembered why he had started talking to her in the first place.

"Uh never mind that, I used to be a fighter pilot, still can't resist talking shop," He mentioned, trying to hide his embarrassment at his outburst, " I'm Ozrick Telgan, I'm with the Jedi Guide's delegation, but I'm not really a delegate, really my master just brought me along because they needed someone to fly the ship. Who are you?"

Waiting to actually land somewhere, had been a first for Elona. She had been to Coruscant before, even in it's current less than stellar state, the planet still expected over a million vessels to be coming and going every hour. Even then, she could land on the planet as soon as she was able, or wanted to. This experience had been a little more different, but it was to be expected, the Jedi weren't the only ones who had came to the conclave. Representatives from all the powers that be had no doubt sent their self-absorbed diplomats, who simply demanded that they be granted the right to land on the station first. Graveyard might of been big, but it wasn't big enough for all those ego's landing at once.

Recognising the familiar thud made from the landing struts making contact with the ground, reminded her that she actually needed to get them seen to, something about the hydraulics was just 'off', With that done, she began making her final preparations, such as making it look like she had some sleep in the past seventy-six hours, and that her clothing was 'adequate' for the situation. The world was nothing, if not driven by first impressions.

The fact that at the moment she looked like a farmer who had been working the fields for the past week with no sleep, was definitely not the impression she wanted to give. "I suppose this is a good a reason, as any, to brush off my Jedi robes." she thought outloud. A quick hydro-shower later, a change of attire and she was more or less ready. For the first time in quite a while, she actually looked like a Jedi. It was a look she had tried her best to avoid. Looking at herself in the mirror she realised that wearing the cloak just made her look stupid, and opted more for the simple Jedi regalia.

With all her preparations finally finished, Elona stood by the exit of her ship. She looked down, and noticed his right hand latched on to her lightsabre, "uh." unhooking the weapon, she placed it on a near by bench, then finally exited her ship for the first time in far too many days.

She tuned out as the Jedi started to talk shop. To her piloting was part of the job, not a particular passion of hers.

"I'm sure one of the diplomat's would be more capable of answering your questions about the facility and its products." She said, actually coming back when for the first time in a long time somebody asked who she was.

"I am Colonel Cassandra Alaric, Commando and bodyguard for him." She thumbed to her boss at that. The slight sneer held back.

"I'll make a note of that, see if I can't corner one of them with my questions." Ozick muttered absent mindedly, thinking more about Cassandra herself now. He didn't need the force to see that this sort of bodyguard detail was beneath someone of her rank, let alone a commando. He did still need to force to pick her out of the crowd, even if she was an elite soldier he was still having trouble understanding what the force was drawing him to her.

"So, Colonel what do you think of Graveyard Station? Pretty inauspicious spot for a summit right?" He probed.

One by one the Jedi boarded the station, the Masters leaving their students behind and heading for the primary conference room, a titanic amphitheater that rivaled the Senate of old in sheer scale, leaving dozens of milling Jedi. This was typical, the Masters would sequester for a time to debate the issue at hand, without the influence of the lower-ranking members of their Orders. There would be time for a more general discussion later.

Even to those without sensitivity to the Force the air around Graveyard felt tight and strained, like a band stretched to the point of snapping. There was a tension in the air that had nothing to do with overtaxed atmospheric maintenance or any of a thousand other shipboard issues. To the eyes of a Force-Wielder the air seemed to flow and crackle with the energy of so many Jedi, mingled with the raw and tragic power of the Wound of Alderaan. There was such power here, and in a brief lull in their conversation that power touched the mind of Ozrick Telgan, his natural talents for intuition awakening and for a moment everything was crystal clear, a horrible twisting in his gut. A blinding flash, flame rushing through the corridors, a terrible wasting away for those pitiful few who survived, the heart of the station gutted in fire.

And a moment later the vision was over, leaving only nausea and the faint after effects of an insidious burn in his skin. Two words echoed through his mind, the last imprint of the warning of the Force: Red Sector, corresponding with one of the many regions on the titanic station, only a short turbolift ride away, and directly adjacent to the sector the Masters were holding their meeting in.

"Red Sector," Ozrick found himself saying aloud unconsciously. Suddenly he snapped back, his nervousness threatening to turn into full blown panic. He grabbed Cassandra's shoulder and pleaded, "Listen, something terrible is about to happen on this station, everyone is at risk, I need your help, we need to get Red Sector and stop it." He didn't even know if he could stop it, assuming Red Sector was the place but he had to act.

Ozrick didn't wait for Cassandra's answer, every second counted, he needed to contact his master. He pulled out his Commlink and tried a broadcast to all of the Jedi Guide Master at the station. Something block it, the master's sequester must have extended to their comm-links as well. However the call didn't completly fail, quite the contrary he could see it connected to two commlinks on the station, he didn't recognize them but at this point he needed all the help he could get. Elona and Zeven's commlinks recieved a message, a short request from Ozrick:

"Listen, I need your help, I am Ozrick Telgan, Jedi Guide, someone is trying to destroy Graveyard Station, you have to come to Red Sector as soon as possible. Hurry and may the force be with you."

Zeven jumped at the sound of Ozrick's message coming through his commlink. He had been listening to an argument that had started close by. Two young jedi not much older than him had begun to argue about jedi influence in governments. Zeven believed that one was of the jedi leaders. He couldn't figure out what the other was, but that didn't matter now.

Zeven looked at his commlink, " Destroy Graveyard station?" Then replying to this Ozrick person, "What are you talking about, and where and what is this red sector?" Zeven stood and began to cautiously but quickly move towards the corridor that lead to an elevator. As he moved into the corridor," And who would be dumb enough to attack a station full of jedi?" Zeven stopped after that. He could see the elevator down the corridor, but he didn't want to move until he heard something.