The city of Pohon was one of the most bustling cities on Arbora. Built against the green and misty heights of the Shahi Mountains, the city was structured as a massive ziggurat whose highest levels rivalled the nearby peaks. Typical of Shumite architecture, each level was a vibrant display of colorful flora, whose foliage warped the otherwise angled shape of each successive level. Flowers and fruits of hundreds of species erupted from every rooftop, painting the city in a collage of color against the otherwise rust-hued stone of the city’s structures. Glistening waterfalls fell from higher stories, with ornate stone bridges arching elegantly over the canals that traversed each level. It was – as many would argue – one of the most beautiful cities in the galaxy.

At least it should have been.

The ongoing blight had brought a decided end to the splendor. Now, the vibrant greens of foliage had dulled into browns and grays, even in the once-mighty forests that surrounded the city. The typically-busy streets were empty of the native Shumi, populated only by a minimal smattering of off-world beings. The canals had been emptied out of concern for the blight’s spread, eliminating the cascading waterfalls. Dry leaves tumbled across the stone. Tiny scavenging animals – most of them non-native vermin — searched for absent scraps of food. Though colorful banners of Shumi designs still rippled in the warm tropical wind, the city felt cold. Dead, really.

“They’re late,” said William Vray, picking something absent-mindedly off his light gray tabard.

The being to his left chuckled and lifted his drink from the café table. Clad in a flowing ochre robe, Master Kho took a deep sip from his glass. The concoction was a dark Titian Brandy and his facial tendrils recoiled a bit at the questionable aftertaste.

“Patience has never been your virtue, Will,” Kho said, baring his teeth in what most species could interpret as a smile. Emotions were difficult for Khi’Hinn to convey to other species. Typically, his people flavored their conversations with releases of pheromones from glands in their necks. Most sentient beings – including humans like Vray – were unable to detect them. Conversely, though, he could easily read the young Knight’s frustrations. It had nothing to do with any pheromones or even Light-driven insight – Vray’s handsome facial muscles were twisted into a scowling pout that betrayed his impatience.

In another time, Kho might have sympathized. Several decades ago, his enthusiastic and overly-driven younger self would have been bothered by the tardiness of his peers. The fact was that he was beginning to feel much older. He was only days away from his one hundred and eighty-fourth birthday. His age was already triple the lifespan of some beings, but for an average Khi’Hinn it meant that he was finally moving into the later years of his life. At the encouragement of some of his colleagues, he was trying to slow down and enjoy his remaining years. Perhaps he would begin to take on fewer active missions – and actually be able to teach an entire semester instead of running off to parts unknown. His daily meditations focused on staying in the present moment – a tall order for a Vindori Master who spent most of his time studying the past. For now, he was content to sit in the warm breeze and sip his drink…

…Even if the breeze was blowing off a dying world and his brandy was downright terrible.

Vray’s communicator began to chirp and his posture perked considerably. He shooed away a small creature that was preening itself atop the device and flipped it open.

“They’re on their way.” The Medicare announced, his facial structure now conceding a smile.

Kho just nodded and pointed at a small craft that was beginning to descend from the hazy blue sky. It was an XR-2 Comet Tail Shuttle used by the Order – two pairs of diagonal wings splaying out from a oblong and bulky hull. The shuttle circled once around the city, its wings slowly folding into its landing configuration as it descended.

The café’s small, wheeled server robot maneuvered toward their table, sensing its patrons’ imminent departure. It reached out a pair of thin mechanical arms to collect their tableware and announced the total of their bill in a cold mechanical voice. Kho nodded and slid the appropriate coins toward the machine before standing up from the table. His bones ached – he was certainly getting older.

“Time to go,” he said, picking up the long, leather scabbard beside him and sliding it over his shoulder. “Just when I was getting comfortable.”

Vray rolled his eyes and took up his own scabbard.

The shuttle hovered loudly over the two Guardians for a moment then moved to land in a wide plaza that had once been a bustling marketplace. It hissed as it settled onto its new landing site, buckling some of the paver stones. Kho and Vray approached the ship as the gangplank slid out and scraped against the pavement. With a final hiss, the ship powered down.

From the shuttle, four figures emerged – successively clothed in blue, green, purple, and red.

The blue-clad figure was the youngest in the collection: Vaesha Cal. A Venefare who had only recently been elevated to the rank of Knight, Vaesha was a meek and unassuming Nara whose cerulean skin complimented the darker blues of her garb. She did not speak, only smiling a bit and nodding at the two beings that waited for her.

The figure in green was the Ouiori Knight Morae Tille, whose hooded cowl bulged and moved as they reached the gathering Guardians. Morae Tille was human, and their wild blue eyes matched a second pair bulging from a gray, scaly head that poked out from the cowl. The creature flicked a tri-forked tongue at its master’s closely-cropped hair. “Good to see you again, Master Kho,” Tille said with a grin.

“Who’s your friend?” Kho attempted the smiling expression again and pointed toward the creature now wrapped around Morae’s neck.

The Ouiore smiled. “This is Hax,” they said, running a hand along the creature’s dorsal crest of fleshy spines. “A Porthian orvo lizard. Very venomous. Very dangerous.”

“Oh.” Kho was intrigued, unfamiliar with the species. “Hax is here to help us, then?”

“No,” Morae countered, walking past the others. “Just looked bored on the ship.” They lifted the lizard to set it on a nearby rostra where influential Shumi once spoke to now-absent crowds. When the beast fully emerged, it was nearly two meters in length with three sets of stubby legs that ended in clawed toes. Its head and torso accounted for less than a quarter of the length, with the rest of the animal existing as a writhing, striped tail. It grumbled a bit but then splayed itself out on the warm tile.

“If we come across something that can’t be beaten down by six crystal sabers, I doubt one of Morae’s pets would be of much use.” The comment came from the purple-clad Rikkan knight who was next to step foot into the plaza. Her head brandished two pairs of bone-white horns that looked deliberately sharpened. “Master Kho,” she nodded. “It’s good to see you again.” She turned to the Medicare. “And you must be Doctor Vray.” She reached out a silver metallic hand that contrasted sharply with the rest of her muscled physique. “Ru Hellan. It’s an absolute honor, Doc.”

“The pleasure is mine,” Vray said shaking the hand but staring curiously at her arm. “Wharrach’s disease?” he said, examining the cybernetic prosthetic and the scars that weaved a pattern up to her neck.

“Since I was born,” she nodded. “Your work saved my life.”

Vray gave a genuine smile – a rare sight, Kho had noticed. “I’m happy to have you with us.”

Last to descend from the shuttle was an elegant figure in a deep crimson cloak. At the end of the gangplank, she pulled back her hood and released an explosion of bright red curls that framed an immaculate face. The human woman was stunningly beautiful, looking far younger than the half-century Kho knew her to be. Her bright emerald eyes were both welcoming and intimidating, and they danced between the other five Guardians before her, ensuring everyone was present.

“Good morning, Master Kho.” She said, her lips subtly curving into a smile. Her voice still clung to notes of the thick Erissian accent she’d spent years trying to break. “And good afternoon, Doctor Vray.”

“Aerynne,” Kho began, nodding in respect of his fellow Master. “A pleasure to see you.”

“Agreed,” Master Cara Aerynne said, beginning to pull her fiery hair into a tail behind her head. “I wish it was under better circumstances.” She pressed a few buttons on a metal bracer wrapped around her wrist and a squat robot slowly rolled from the ship to greet them. She leaned down and began to fidget with the machine’s settings.

Kho looked around at the members of the group. Morae had already drifted from the group to attend to their orvo lizard. Vaesha seemed to be contemplating a dead flower that had grown between two of the plaza’s paver stones. Hellan was chatting to Vray about their recent journey where, from the sounds of things, the imperial quarantine blockade had held them up considerably. They were young, but they were still Knights. They’d complete the mission well.

“Damn machines,” Master Aerynne said, standing suddenly. “Alright, everyone,” she called out. “I need us all to focus.” Her words were quiet and simple, but they carried with them the heavy weight of her abilities in The Light. Almost immediately, the attention of the four Knights was on her alone, and Kho felt a calm, soothing peace wash over him. Undoubtedly the others felt it, too. The group gathered closer together, surrounding the small robot.

Aerynne pressed another button on her wrist and the robot began to project a detailed, three-dimensional map of the city of Pohon. “We can start with the fact that we are here,” she said as she pointed to a small plaza on the city’s third level. “Doctor Vray, would you like to tell us what you know?”

“Absolutely, Master.” Vray said, clearing his throat. “As most of you should be aware, Arbora has been dealing with a serious crisis for the last several years. Based on research from the labs on Khola, we now know that the blight is being caused by a bacterial infection that affects plant-based lifeforms native to the planet. And on Arbora,” he paused, gesturing around them, “That’s everything. Literally every species on this world is the result of plant-based evolution.”

“So basically,” Morae spoke up, the orvo lizard now nestled calmly against their neck. “It’s going to kill everything on Arbora.”

“Including the Shumi,” Hellan completed the obvious conclusion.

Vray nodded solemnly. “Yes. Estimates are that by the end of the next lunar cycle, Pohon alone could have its population reduced by as much as fifty percent.”

Kho gave a heavy sigh. He hadn’t realized the infection was that bad. The Order’s response to the crisis had been lackluster at best, the result of bureaucracy and divided attention.

“What are we looking at with this?” Hellan interjected. “Is this a bio-weapon, or—”

Vray shook his head. “We almost wish it was. It’s entirely natural. Basically, it’s a mutation of a bacteria that typically breaks down plant matter on the forest floor. Reproduces very quickly. This strain just eats anything and everything, and it particularly enjoys the neural systems of the Shumi.”

“Hence the ‘blight madness,’” Morae said, citing the term the news media often used to describe the debilitating neurological conditions prompted by bacteria.

“So,” he continued, nodding and trying to steer the briefing forward. “The Ordo Medicari and Ordo Ouiori have been collectively working on this for some time. We’ve been trying to develop a cure but so far… nothing’s proved particularly effective. At least nothing that wouldn’t also wipe out the entire ecology of the planet.”

“And the Shumi aren’t happy with the Order’s delays.” Morae added.

“They are not.” Vray agreed. “I’ve been stationed here since I was elevated to Knight and… well… I haven’t seen things this bad.”

“No offense, Doc,” Hellan’s muscular arms were folded across her chest. “But I’m not going to be much good working in a lab if that’s why we’re here.” Behind her, Vaesha stood solemn and silent.

Kho finally spoke. “It’s not. The political situation on Arbora has become problematic to the efforts of the Order. The Medicari were able to develop a chemical compound that acts as a deterrent to the bacteria – CanopyGreen – but its distribution has been held up.”

“By what, exactly?” Hellan asked.

Kho continued. “The shipyards that receive the shipments have been taken over by a cartel known as the Harkarr Clan. They’re an off-world syndicate that bought out the docks almost immediately after the crisis began and trade collapsed. They’ve been hording the supplies of Canopy Green and demanding the local governments pay them considerably.”

“Have the local governments responded?” Asked Morae, stroking the lizard’s neck.

“Not in Pohon.”

“Why not?”

Kho stared blankly for a moment. “Because Pohon is a ship without a pilot at the moment. The entire local government has died from the bacteria.”

The group grew silent until Kho spoke once more.

“The Master Council sent me to learn more about the Harkarrs’ actions a few months ago – which is how I was able to meet Doctor Vray.” He gestured to the young guardian beside him. “The cartel is exceedingly well-defended, well-connected, and well-hidden. They’ve been selling amounts of CanopyGreen to their supporters, and occasionally offering it to schools and hospitals as a publicity stunt. It’s working,” he sighed. “The Harkarr Clan is currently more popular with the people of the city than the Order is. They’re presenting themselves as the saviors of the crisis. Locals see more action on their part than they see what the Order’s been up to.”

Vray cut in. “Despite the fact that the Order’s the one trying to develop a cure.”

“Precisely.” Kho nodded.

“Harkarr is a Rikkan name. So who’s in charge?” Hellan cracked her knuckles. “Cut the head off the shavikkar and the rest will die, right?”

Morae winced at the phrase.

“Not so easy,” said Kho. “For one, we have no idea where their leadership is hiding. Secondly, we have no idea just how well-protected they might be. But the biggest problem is who is now leading the cartel.”

Kho gestured to Aerynne, who pressed another button. The city map dissolved. It was quickly replaced with a floating bust of a strange, hooded figure – a Shumi donned in the unmistakable robe and stole of a Guardian Grand Master.

“This is former-Grand Master Lyrryck-To,” Kho introduced the new face. “He was one of the leading Masters from the Ordo Medicari delegation. In the last few years, he grew increasingly frustrated with the Order’s response to the crisis until ten months ago when –”

“He fell into Shadow.”

The tiny voice chirped from Vaesha, who had finally joined the conversation.

“I feel only Shadow around him. Darkness. Cold.” Vaesha’s eyes squinted, as though she saw something the others could not. Her face look pained.

Kho sighed again. “Yes. Master Lyrryck-To has fallen from The Light and – as near as we can tell – usurped the Clan’s leadership. We assume the original Harrack family is dead.”

“That explains the prism,” said Hellan.

A prism was a detachment of Guardians that included a member of every one of the Six Sects. One Guardian was powerful. An entire prism – each bringing their own understanding of The Light to bear – was unstoppable.

“Yes.” Master Aerynne finally resumed control of the briefing. “That’s why we’re all here. Our objectives are two-fold: We need to try and secure the supply of CanopyGreen, but we also need to apprehend and secure Grand Mas—” She paused, self-correcting. “We need to secure Lyrryck-To, and we have reason to think that he won’t go quietly. He’s highly dangerous.”

Hellan cracked her knuckles once more. “So let’s get this guy.”

“Also not easy,” said Kho. “I’ve been investigating the Clan for months, and I still haven’t been able to track down their headquarters.”

“Which is why we brought you a gift,” Aerynne said, pulling a fabric-wrapped object from her robe. She held it out to Kho.

The Khi’Hinn took it gingerly, peeling back the cloth to reveal a shining pistol with a crude leather grip.

“This is lovely, Aerynne, but I prefer my saber.” Facial expressions were difficult, but he could still express sarcasm. In truth, he knew exactly why the weapon mattered.

Master Aerynne suppressed a smile. “This was taken from a Harkarr storehouse on Riik. The leather is relatively new, and was sourced from—”

“Ooooh!” interrupted Morae. “An Arboran red-breasted tree howler! You can tell from that coloration and pattern. It’s very unique.”

Aerynne’s nostrils flared a bit, but she continued. “Yes. A local creature. We think the blaster has been here before. We assumed it was all you needed.”

“It’s possible,” Kho agreed. This was the key he needed. The Khi’Hinn began to turn away toward the rostra. “It’s possible,” he repeated, beginning to ascend the stairs to the top of the platform. The others gave him his space, remaining where they were. His mind was already drifting as his eyes took in every detail of the weapon. A scratch along the barrel. A slight wear on the leather. Some discoloration on the trigger. A spot of rust near the energy chamber. As he reached the top, he knelt to sit on the smooth stone, still holding the pistol in his hands.

“Master, do you—” Began Hellan, but Kho reached out a hand to request silence.

He refocused his attention on the pistol, feeling the cool metal in his warm hands. He closed his eyes and opened his mind, trying to channel The Light that burned inside of him. Psychometry was one of the great arts of the Ordo Vindori. He could reach out with The Light to feel an object’s history – its past and purpose in the grand order of the universe. He concentrated on the warm sun on his face and the breeze on his skin. He heard the sad, distant cry of a pannah bird over the din of the city. Slowly – quietly — he could feel The Light moving within him.

A flurry of sensations began to flood his mind. The sharp clangs of a foundry. The heat of a forge. A pair of loud voices. “Any chance you saw last night’s big match?” “Aw, no… too busy with the kids…” The bright light of a welding torch. This was all too old. He forced his mind to more recent times.

The bright flashes as the gun fired a shot. Then another. Then another. A shooting range. Kho wasn’t there yet.

The gun was in pieces as rough hands cleaned every part. The hot air of Riik blew through a window. The barrel screwed loose as a wire brush–

Still not there.

The barrel being jabbed into the temple of an aged human. More voices. “I’m not telling you again, old man. You owe the Clan a lot of money.” “I know! I know, I swear! Just a little more time!” “Not anymore!” The hot flash of a shot. Kho could feel himself wince at the inevitable. He had to keep going.

The embrace of a leather holster and the hiss of a starship. A blue sky over brown, dying foliage. Arbora. This was it. Laughing. “Welcome to this shit-hole, Shen! Let me show you around.” A tall warehouse. An old bell tower. A thick iron door. Fingers punching a code into a pad: 2-5-3-E-R-D-9. A long corridor. A growl of some beast. Another door. The wheeze of artificial respiration. “Is this him?” “Who the hell are you?” “I’m your new master.”

Kho opened his eyes. The sky was now a mix of purple and orange – it was dusk. The others were scattered about the plaza. Aerynne was staring at a small datapad. Vaesha was meditating. Morae was feeding the lizard. Hellan and Vray were talking – abnormally close to each other.

“I found it.” Kho declared, taking to his feet. The others snapped to attention and moved toward the base of the rostra. Master Aerynne beckoned the robot to her side and the map of the city materialized once more.

“Fifth level!” Kho began. The image of the massive ziggurat pulled apart, dissolving all but the fifth level of the city – a giant, thick square. The outer edges were rough and uneven with the textures of foliage and buildings while the center – the space upon which the fourth level should sit – was a weave of tunnels and elaborate chambers like an insect’s nest – the inner city.

“Northern edge. Exterior.” Kho continued. The others were gathered around him now, watching intently. Again, the hologram adjusted, dissolving away three-quarters of the image and focusing on the level’s northern portion.

“Highlight all warehouses.” Instantly, a hundred blue circles materialized around structures.

Kho grumbled. “Uh, disregard.” He tried again. “Show me all warehouses within line of sight of a religious structure.” This time, only three blue circles.

“Show me the first result.” The hologram grew larger, detailing a city block with tall grain silos near a small and dilapidated temple.

“Second result, please.” Again, the image shifted, this time displaying a tall, imposing warehouse. Beside it was the ruin of a Guardian monastery, likely out of use for centuries. In its center, a tall bell tower emerged from an abandoned cloister.

“There,” Kho said, pointing to the warehouse. “That’s the place.” The other Guardians stared at each other and the map, trying to suppress their disbelief.

Aerynne nodded her approval. “You’re sure that’s it?”

Kho replied enthusiastically. “I’m sure. I can even tell you the code to the front door if you’d like.”

“We may need that before the evening is over.” Aerynne turned to Hellan. “Get the shuttle prepped and ready.” She looked to the group as a whole. “Go in The Light.”

“In the Light,” echoed back the other five. Hellan was already making her way up the gangplank. Morae gathered the orvo lizard as Vray and Vaesha likewise moved toward the ship.

Aerynne moved to board, but Kho caught her arm. “Hold on,” Kho whispered, waiting until the others had disappeared into the ship.

“What is it?” Aerynne said, her eyes catching the bright white of the rising moons. Kho could tell she could sense the concern in his voice.

“It’s Vray,” The old Khi’Hinn said, watching to make sure the young knight didn’t reappear on the gangplank.

Aerynne pinched his brow in confusion. “I don’t understand. He seems fine to me.”

“Which concerns me,” said Kho. “I’m sure he’s a remarkable knight. But I’m worried he might be more of a liability than an asset on this mission.”

“Why’s that?”

Kho sighed. “Because Lyrryck-To is Vray’s old master.”