You see so much now — far, far more than before your accident.

You lie awake, once again gazing at the Galaxy beyond. It’s a familiar sight now. Every night, you spend a few minutes staring out into the void. It’s relaxing — a great help for falling asleep.

Your Sight has grown in so many ways. Depth, breath, distance, and clarity. What can you not see?

Flat images for a start. Holograms. A disappointment, but something to work on for the future. It’s a good thing your warp-eye sees more than just warp — more than just void. You at least have something to fill that needful gap until you improve.

The warp lies within, and beyond sight. Beyond Force Sight. Beyond warp-sight; at least until you find a way to breach into the Immaterium. But, why would you ever want to do that? Why would you ever want to subject yourself, or this Galaxy, to what dwells there? You do not know.

Your reply to Tera’s question was rather… tepid. A half-answer, as you still do not know what you truly wish to be. You’d told her you wanted to be some sort of explorer, perhaps a navigator of uncharted space. A semi-truth, for it is not a navigator you yearn to be, but a Navigator instead.

But, what is a Navigator? Why is this your goal? This is what you’ve been pondering for the past couple weeks. From what you’ve seen — what you remember? — a Navigator plots a course through the Empyrean. How can you do that without access to that treacherous realm?

And so you lie and think, watching the stellar sights far far away.

Questions upon questions upon questions, and not an answer in Sight. No answers lie beyond, but perhaps an answer lies within?

Maybe, but you resolved yourself not to look. Not until you’ve grown stronger, but when will that be?

≡][≡ ⬦⬦⬦ ≡][≡

A surge of frenzied thought ripples through the Temple. You almost don’t notice, so intent on your possible futures, but the sound of familiar voices draws your attention back to the world around you.

The minds of hundreds buzz with energy — an oddity in a cloistered land of seemingly muted thought. The peace of the Jedi minds around you is, not shattered, but vibrating in an alarming way. Something has happened. Something has set everyone off.

You look across the bustling cafeteria and spy two Padawans: one large and bulky, the other crowned with horns. They sit close to one another, speaking excitedly about something — something urgent — but what?

Your friends are not currently around for you to ask. You’re taking a late meal, having spent longer with Master Corr than usual, simply speaking of fun nothings and trivialities. A waste of time, but enjoyable nonetheless. It served as a nice break from the tribulations clouding your mind, yet it seems you have missed out on something important.

Your food can wait. You have some investigating to do.

You stand up, pull your mask back on, and make your way over, dumping your tray of food into the receptacle on the way. As you approach, neither of them, Gilt nor Lana, seem to notice you, so engrossed in their own conversation. Silently, you slip into the seat across from them and wait for them to notice you.

It doesn’t take long.

“— she’s definitely still on Coruscant. There’s no way— Ah! Who the hell are you?” Gilt swings her attention over, twisting her head to look at you at an unhealthy speed. “When did you get here?”

“It’s me, Xena. I just got here.”

“Who?”

Lana leans over and whispers loudly into Gilt’s ear, “That’s the girl who was with the other girl that one time.”

Gilt turns to her, eyes rolling in exasperation. “Verrry helpful. I totally understand what you mean.”

You smile under your mask. The two of them are as amusing as ever. Last time you’d met them, you’d been a bit distracted by Lana’s antics with Tera. Now that you’re not so outraged by the pseudo-kidnapping, you can take some pleasure out of their antics.

“I’m the one that Lana didn’t kidnap.”

“Ah.”

You giggle as mortifying memories rush through Gilt’s mind, freezing her in place as she tries to process her guilt (ha!). Lana, on the other hand, feels nothing but satisfaction at a prank almost well played, evidently not remembering the harsh scolding Gilt gave her afterward.

Considering how distracted Gilt now is, you turn to Lana instead to ask your question. “Something happened recently and everyone’s talking, or thinking, about it. I missed it though, so can you tell me about it?”

“You talk weird.”

You pause at her non-sequitur. “What?”

But instead of answering you, Lana turns to Gilt and nudges her, saying, “She talks funny, doesn’t she?”

Gilt jerks out of her reverie, then narrows her eyes as she considers Lana’s words. After a moment, she shakes her head. “I don’t know. Kid, say something.”

“Uh, something?”

“More.”

“More.”

“Don’t just repeat me! Come on, say something longer.”

“... I just wanted to know what everyone’s so worked up about. Are you gonna tell me or not?”

She turns back to Lana. “Yeah, she does! Hey, kid. How are you doing that? And, what’s up with the mask?”

“Doing what?”

“That! That double-talk!”

“Huh?”

“It’s like, whenever you speak to me, I hear you twice. Your voice is muffled by that mask, but I hear you again, at the same time, but clearer.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Bah. Whatever. Keep your secrets. Just tell me what that mask is for.”

What are these two on about? You just wanted to ask one simple question… Argh! You sweep the room with Force Sight, checking for anybody who might see. Fortunately, everyone’s either too engrossed in their food or in their own conversations to pay attention to you. And so, you reach up and pull off your mask.

“Sithspit! What the hell happened to you?”

“Accident.” You put the mask back on. “Lost my eyes somewhere, but I found some replacements.”

She’s about to speak, clearly annoyed by your flippant tone, but Lana cuts her off before she can get a word out.

“Hey! You don’t sound weird when you talk to Gilt! Why’s that?”

“Gah! Lana! Butt out!”

You shake your head, still confused. This conversation was doomed to failure the moment you sat down. You’re tempted to just leave, but that’d be a bit rude — not that they’d even notice your absence now that they’ve started arguing with each other. Kind of.

The two of them don’t exactly trade insults. It’s mostly just Gilt hurling childish “abuse” at Lana who shrugs it off with barely an acknowledgement. It seems she’s used to this already. You do want to stop this before it gets too far, though. You’ll never get any answers then.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“Hey, could you stop fighting? You haven’t answered my question yet.”

“We’re not fighting!” Gilt spits out, glaring at you.

“Oh, really?”

“Yes! Does this look like a fight?”

You turn to Lana, who’s now staring off into the distance, dreaming of eating dinner while still finishing her lunch. Well, having realistic dreams is good. You’ve been having quite a lot of trouble with your own, incredibly abstract, one.

“I guess not.”

“Good. I guess your eyes still work.”

“Well, not really. But, sure.”

She stares at you for a moment, trying to take a measure of you. She’s certainly finding it difficult, though, as your mask renders you immune to such things. The eye in the center of your mask catches hers.

Unnerving. A soulless gaze.

“Ahem.” you cough out, drawing her back to the present.

“Wha-? Right, right. Fine, I’ll answer.” She takes a breath, eyes wandering to the ceiling as she thinks. “Earlier today, there was an assassination attempt on one of the Senators: Senator Amidala. She’s the one from Naboo — I think? Yeah. Naboo. A whole bunch of her guards, and a body-double got killed. She’s still alive though, and she’s been put under the protection of Knight Kenobi and the Chosen One.”

Huh. You’ve heard of this Chosen One thing before. It stems from some sort of prophecy. Sounds like a load of groxshit to you, but it seems a lot of Masters take it seriously.

How did that prophecy go?

A Chosen One shall come, born of no father, and through him will ultimate balance in the Force be restored.

He’ll bring balance to the Force, huh? That’s a bit ominous isn’t it? Sure, maybe the Force is unbalanced, but isn’t the scale tipped all the way toward the Light Side? It’s not as if there’s anymore Sith out there. Hmm…

That’s a dark thought for another time. You think back to what else Gilt said. Assassination? Who wants her dead? What motive?

“Why? Who’s after her?”

“She’s here to vote on the Army of the Republic thing. A lot of people think it’s the work of the Separatists, but I think otherwise. She’s famously against the creation of an Army. Why would they try to kill someone who’s gonna vote for something that benefits them? I think it’s probably one of the war hawks in the Senate. No idea who, though.”

You’d completely forgotten about that vote, having been so absorbed in your own training. The looming threat of war has been hanging over the Republic, and subsequently the Temple, for so long that you’d almost gotten used to nothing really happening.

That’s not really true though — plenty of things have been happening. Thousands of systems have broken away from the Republic, or declared their intention to leave, to join the Separatists. This is a huge crisis! And yet, you’ve been so sheltered here in the Temple, you’d lost sight of it. This is the biggest news you’ve gotten in a while.

This upcoming vote may very well be the turning point. The future of the Republic teeters on a knife edge. Will there be war? Will the breakaway systems really be allowed to leave?

Who knows?

“Thanks, Gilt.”

“‘Welcome. Anyways, I’m still curious about that double-talk. Since I answered your question, how about you answer mine?” she says, leaning forward.

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Come oooon. You can tell me!”

“I don’t know! Nobody’s noticed it before, and I can’t hear it!”

She tilts her head, listening to your retort. When you finish, she nods her head, then says softly, “Well, I don’t really hear it per se… It’s like a whisper in the back — no, the front — of my mind, clarifying what you say. You kinda mumble sometimes, but your double-talk makes it easier to understand. It’s always clear.”

That’s… interesting. Is that—

Wait! Is that your telepathy? How long has this been going on? How long have you been using it?

You whisper quietly behind your mask; so quiet even you can’t hear yourself, “Can you hear me?”

She doesn’t respond.

Why? Isn’t this exactly what she just explained?

Gilt stares at you, wondering at what in the world you’re doing. To her, you appear to be just sitting there in silence.

“I’m experimenting. Can you wait for a minute?”

“Uhhh. Sure?”

Great! She’s willing to help. Now, what’s wrong with it? Maybe it’s not your telepathy? No, no. That wouldn’t make any sense. This is the only thing that does.

So, what’s the key?

Huh, you’ve been asked that question before, not too long ago. The key…

Intent?

You whisper again. This time, you don’t whisper to the back of your mask, but instead to her.

“Can you hear me?”

“Yeah. Hey, wait. Was that just your other voice?”

“Yes! It worked!”

You jump up, pumping your fist in victory. A few people around you stare at your celebrations, Gilt included, but you keep going anyway. You deserve this!

You pat yourself on the back with the Force while you’re at it, then sit back down.

“So, what did you do?” Gilt asks.

“I used my telepathy!”

“What?! Telepathy? Isn’t that a really advanced technique?”

“I… Maybe?”

Wait, is your telepathy of the Force or not? You’d not really considered that before.

You remember your choice though. You remember that dream. What was that thing? Who was it? You were gifted this ability. It’s not the Force. Certainly not. So then, what is it? A question for later…

“Whatever. I’m just glad I finally got it to work!” you say.

“Well, congratulations, I guess.” Gilt politely claps, but you sense… something. Unease? No, she’s slightly disgruntled. Well, maybe you would be too, if an Initiate somehow showed an amazing ability when you couldn’t do the same. Oh well.

Then, she brings up another good question. “What’s the range? And, can you read my thoughts?”

“I don’t know! Let’s try!”

You scramble out of your seat then start power walking to the other side of the cafeteria. Once there, you turn back toward her and try again. This time, however, you don’t bother even whispering, instead trying to send purely your thoughts.

Can you hear me?

You open your mind to the world around you, listening for Gilt’s reply. What greets you instead is a storm of voices, hollering, unheeded by most, but almost debilitating to someone like you — someone who can finally hear.

It hurts! Such a cacophony — a riot of voiced and unvoiced thought! It assaults your now-open mind, threatening to shatter you to pieces. Just a single room of people produces this?

You suck in your breath and hold it for a second, then let it out in a gigantic sigh. You sense a couple people looking at you, wondering at what you’re doing, but you ignore them. You must focus. Raising your hands in front of you, you start to pull on the Force. You need just a strand, just the smallest bit of power; and you get it.

The Force rises to your call, feeding into a ball of energy cupped gingerly between your palms. Slowly, ever so slowly as not to disturb the nascent flow, you lift your hands up, bringing it just before your face.

And you push your head in.

The Force is sponged up into your brain, and works quickly: swiftly evicting all the minds from your temple and shutting the door. All the minds, but one: Gilt.

Her voice pulses in the darkness. A lonely call, but now clear — no longer drowned out by a depthless sea. She’s saying something. A reply. The reply you seek!

Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Is this going through?

Along with the words comes a flash of light. Sensation. Emotion. A string of decipherable information that tells you so, so much — an aggregate of all your senses, but primarily funneled through a telepathic link.

Is this what you’ve been doing recently? You’re now noticing something that you’d taken for granted. You’ve been… sensing other people — their feelings and emotions telling you so much. But, that wasn’t just your witchsight was it? Nor your true-sight, borne by your warp-eye. No, that was this, right? Your telepathy?

Images and sensations and words — you sense all this at the forefront of Gilt’s mind. This is it! This is what you’ve been seeing in those around you!

I HEAR YOU!

Her mind hitches at your mental response, bucking in surprise and not a little pain. She clutches her head, reeling at the volume of your mental yell.

Owww. Why?

You whisper a frantic Sorry! then make your way back over. Fortunately, it seems you weren’t too loud; by the time you’re back, she has recovered and fixes you with an angry glare.

“What the hell was that?”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to. That was my first time!”

You try to make yourself as small and nonthreatening as possible, hoping for a speck of mercy. Thankfully, with a roll of her eyes, she grants it to you, grudgingly saying “... Alright, but don’t do that again.”

You shift your mask up just enough to flash her a grin, then settle back into the seat. Great! Now that that’s settled, what else can you do? Lana said something about not “hearing” you when you speak to Gilt. Perhaps you should try and figure out what that means? And, maybe you should try speaking to someone further away? The question for that would be: who?