"I'm here now, T'ish. What's the plan?"

A hiss escaped from the mask of the Jedi Knight,  sound that was most likely a sigh of relief, but sounded more like a hiss of annoyance. He was glad to see that his Padawan still drew breath, even now sending tendrils of thought out into the Force, seeking that which could not be seen - if the clones had made it into the temple, by whatever means, then he had no doubt that some of them may already be within the Archives; if the sound of blaster fire, and the fact that Jasma had her saber activated, were anything to go by then they already were and time was not on their side.

"What is happening in the Archives, Jasma," he pressed, "make it brief and make it quick. Behind me are tunnels we could use to manoeuver around the temple, but they will not hide us indefinitely."

His own saber burst into life in his hand, ready to defend them both if needs be, and to strike down any that may come for them; there was, however, something much deeper and much darker than mere clones here...he could [i]feel[/i] it. Something, no, more like [i]someone[/i], leading them in their efforts to cleanse the ever peaceful order from their home.

"Did you see any others? Seris, perhaps? We cannot simply leave them."

Inside himself he knew that going on a possibly reckless 'rescue mission' could well lead to both their deaths, but what was he if not a peacekeeper? If not a protector of others? His sense of right and wrong was innate, from his birth he had known which was which, and [b]this[/b] was all wrong. He could not, would not, slip away into the shadows so simply if others could be bought with them.