The late afternoon’s sun shines through the Archive windows, casting long shadows across the great central hallway. The endless volumes of records and material glow softly against the dimming backdrop, pulsing with light as they continuously update. You follow Jocasta Nu as she strides forward — the master of this archivum, supremely confident surrounded by her element: knowledge.
You pass marble tables, laid out in the center of the hallway, around which Jedi of multitudinous species sit, browsing or researching. At each seat is a small display with which they can interact. A few paces ahead is one such station where an indicator quietly beeps for attention.
A man, draped in the traditional brown robe of the Jedi, stands near the table staring at a bust of a long-gone Master. When Master Nu catches sight of him, she moves toward him with purpose, leaving you to trail behind at a distance.
“Did you call for assistance?” she asks, looking upward at him.
He turns, dragging his gaze away from the bust’s stony stare. “Yes. Yes, I did.”
“Are you having a problem, Master Kenobi?”
Your eyes widen as you recognize that name. You’d heard it a few times before. He was at the Naboo Crisis roughly ten years ago; the Padawan to Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn! Afterwards, he became the master of the Chosen One. Yesterday, Gilt told you that the two of them were charged with protecting Senator Amidala. What is he doing here?
“Yes, um, I’m looking for a planetary system called Kamino. It doesn’t show up on the archive charts.”
“Kamino… It’s not a system I’m familiar with.” Master Nu says.
Surprisingly, she turns to you, as if you might know it. You think back to your own lessons, turning the name about in your mind. There are certainly a lot of systems that start with “K,” but you can’t think of a match, so you silently shake your head.
She turns back to the Jedi Knight, Obi-Wan Kenobi, asking, “Are you sure you have the right coordinates?”
He sits at the workstation tapping away at the controls. He points, saying, “According to my information, it should appear in this quadrant here, just south of the Rishi Maze.”
Master Nu leans over and presses a few keys. The system beeps as it processes the data, performing a perfunctory search, then beeps once more.
Frustratingly, you can’t actually see what’s going on — not with your Force Sight. Damnable screens. Damnable holograms! Alas, these remain the bane of your existence.
You’re about to ask for what’s going on, but then realize that you do have another option: your telepathy! You can just read someone’s mind! You’ll see what they see for a moment. You’ll know what they know!
…
Obi-Wan watches the screen, hoping to see something he’s missed. Unfortunately, even with Master Nu performing the search, nothing pops up.
He’s sure there must be something there. While Dex may be holed up in his diner all day, he’s still somehow able to dig up the information Obi-Wan needs, and he’s never wrong. This system, Kamino, must be there. There must be records of it somewhere.
Master Nu sighs and shakes her head. “I hate to say it, but it looks like the system you’re searching for doesn’t exist.”
“Impossible. Perhaps the archives are incomplete.”
For a moment, Jocasta Nu almost appears offended and he’s afraid he’d said something wrong, but then she sighs again.
“Perhaps that’s true. There was once a time where I would have told you that if it isn’t in our records, it doesn’t exist. However, recent events have… expanded my view. You can thank Xena here for that.”
Master Nu gestures to her side at a small creature. It wears an Initiate’s garb, but its face is completely covered by a combination of an odd mask and a strip of metal where a human’s forehead would be. Just above, at the crown of its bald head, is a pair of tiny horns.
The mask is, disturbingly, blood-red. A series of golden lines break up the otherwise featureless facade, swirling in patterns reminiscent of those of a Temple guardsman’s mask. However, down the center of the mask is a set of vertical lines, interrupted by a large, stylized eye flanked with wings.
Obi-Wan blinks, but the eye doesn’t blink back.
The mask doesn’t have any holes; how can this creature see?
At that moment, the creature reaches up and pulls the mask upward, revealing a small, round face. A girl. A Youngling. At first glance, Obi-Wan guesses that she may be eight or nine years old, but he reevaluates that thought when he notices the saber on her belt. If she’s already built her weapon, she must be almost old enough to be an apprentice.
Her eyes are closed, but as she tilts her head up to look at him, they suddenly blink open.
Two screaming suns of burning blue gaze back at him.
A horror.
A pity.
And then they’re gone, shrouded once more by the one-eyed mask — purpose now understood.
“Ah, err…” he stammers out, then gathers himself once more. First impressions are important! With a bow, he says, “Hello little one. I’m Obi-Wan.”
The girl bows in return. “I’m Xena. It’s nice to meet you, Master Obi-Wan.”
“If you don’t mind me asking, what happened to…” he says, trailing off leadingly.
“I lost them.” she says flippantly. “I left them somewhere and now I can’t find them. Can you help me find them?”
“Uh, I—”
“Xena!” Master Nu cuts in, lightly slapping her on the arm. “Don’t do that!”
“Do what?”
“Don’t tease your elders!”
“Oh, okay. Sorry, Master Obi-Wan,” she says, giving a slight bow. “I had ‘normal’ eyes before, but then a daemon boiled them out of my head and gave me these in return.”
Obi-Wan is certain that Master Nu is about to chastise the girl again, but instead of slapping her, she slaps her palm into her own face and shakes her head.
“Ahhh, Xena. Don’t explain it like that… Nevermind that, Master Kenobi. She had an ‘accident,’ so now she uses Force Sight to see. The mask is to conceal what remains.”
“I… see.”
“I don’t!” the girl chimes in cheerfully.
Master Nu sighs again.
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“Xena, would you like some more time to think about what we spoke of earlier?”
You nod your head. This distraction has been thoroughly entertaining so far, but in return has not allowed you much time to make a decision.
“Alright. Well, Master Kenobi, would you like some ‘help’ with your search?” Master Nu says, foisting baby-sitting duty upon her junior Jedi. “Xena might be able to do… something.”
“Um, yes. That would be most kind of you, Xena. If you would.” he responds, understanding what she’s getting at.
You frown under your mask, then turn that into a grin. You can think later. Speaking with Master Kenobi is surprisingly fun!
“Xena, come find me once you’ve reached a conclusion. I’ll be here as always.”
“Thank you, Master Nu. I’ll be back soon.”
“Take your time.”
With that, she departs, heading back to the front desk. You turn to Master Kenobi, observing him as he sits and thinks. He leans back, relaxing in the stonework chair — rather uncomfortable looking, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He lifts his hand to his short beard, stroking it in thought while staring at the screen before him. Finally, after a few minutes, he seems to make up his mind and stands up, powering off the system.
“Master Obi-Wan?”
“Huh? Oh—” he appears to have forgotten you were still here! “—We’ll be visiting Master Yoda. He’ll know what to do.”
“Stumped, you are?” you ask, mimicking Yoda’s gravely tone and method of speaking.
“Stumped, I am.”
You giggle, then follow him as he moves. Yup, you’ve made the right choice!
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“Master Kenobi?”
“Yes?”
“Why are you looking for ‘Kamino?’”
The two of you are making your way down the arched halls of the Temple, treading softly on broad blue carpets. Master Kenobi’s robe flaps softly with each step, trailing down almost to the floor. A pulse of intrigue emanates from him at your question. A secret! He’s silent, thinking of an answer, so you press on with another question.
“Master, weren’t you assigned to protect the Senator of Naboo?”
“Where’d you hear that?” he responds, distress creeping through him.
“I heard it from a Padawan. It’s not a secret, is it?”
“Apparently not.” Master Kenobi slows, rubbing his eyes with sudden exhaustion. He sighs, then continues on. “Anakin — my Padawan — and I are indeed protecting the Senator.”
“Then why are you here? Where are your Padawan and the Senator?”
“That’s… confidential. Please don’t ask about it.”
“Oh, okay.”
A disappointing answer, but you’ll not pry. You could probably leech it out of his mind, but this does seem important. It doesn’t have anything to do with you anyways.
Branching off of one of the large atriums high up in the Temple is a training room, one you’ve been to many times before. Giant bronze statues stand in the corners of the atrium, depicting masterfully carved, awe-inspiring displays of the Force. Huge stone pillars are dispersed throughout the room, rising up to the high ceiling above you. Dozens of Knights and Masters pass through this area at any minute of the day, their own accomplishments outshining those who inspired the sculptures here.
The training room entrance is flanked by two sets of stairs, leading up to a mezzanine level above. You remember running up and down these stairs, playing after your lessons. You even more clearly remember the time you got punished for sliding down the handrail that one time…
This training room is particularly special to you and most other Younglings in that Master Yoda was often your instructor here. He, as the grandmaster of the entire Order — the very heart of the Order itself, some would say — still finds the time to be a core part of every Youngling’s life, teaching you the fundamentals of the Force and the Jedi.
Today is yet another of those days. Younglings, even younger than you, stand in the room, training sabers out and blinding helmets on. Practice drones buzz through the air around them, drawing an almost imperceptible, involuntary shudder from you.
Stupid droids.
You’re still doing this same kind of practice though. It’s simply too useful to not be done, hence the Initiates training here today.
You and Master Kenobi proceed through the wide doorway, bathing in the harsh sounds of bolts striking lightsabers, and the echoing voice of Master Yoda.
“Reach out. Sense the Force around you. Use your feelings, you must.”
The Younglings are doing rather well. Not one of them misses their swing; every bolt is blocked. They’re going really slow though. You’d definitely do better than them! As you approach, Yoda’s cane strikes the floor, ringing out in the circular room.
“Younglings. Younglings! Visitors we have.” he announces. The Younglings’ sabers shut off one by one and they raise their helmets to peer first at Master Kenobi, then at you. Master Kenobi inclines his head slightly while you give a small wave.
All together, the Younglings intone a greeting to Master Kenobi, but hesitate at what to say to you. Fortunately, Master Kenobi skims over that, simply greeting them back, then addressing Master Yoda.
“I’m sorry to disturb you, Master.”
“What help can I be, Obi-Wan? Hm?”
“I’m looking for a planet described to me by an old friend. I trust him, but the systems don’t show on the archive maps. Neither Master Nu, nor Xena here—” he gestures at you, “—have heard of the system before.”
Yoda nods sagely, then comments with humor, “Mmm. Lost a planet Master Obi-Wan has. How embarrassing.”
The Younglings giggle, but you remain silent.
I’ve lost worst.
Master Kenobi jerks his head toward you, confusion bubbling up within him which only grows when he realizes that only he heard you. You look back up at him, pinning him with your faux eye.
Maybe you can find my eyes there for me?
It is only then, when he’s awkwardly fidgeting at your ridiculous statement that you join the Younglings in their giggling.
“Liam, the shades.” Master Yoda commands, prompting one of the Younglings to push a button on the wall. You all gather around the map reader in the center of the room as Master Kenobi shakes off the confusion and places a small orb on the reader’s pedestal. With a hum, the map reader begins to work and—
Stupid, stupid holograms. Argh! You can’t see!
Heedless of your frustration, Master Yoda continues. “Gather around the map reader. Clear your minds and find Obi-Wan’s wayward planet we will.”
Clear your mind indeed. It’s time for telepathy once again.
…
Obi-Wan feels something, like an itch at the back of his mind. It’s almost like that feeling he gets when he’s being watched — the Force warning him of something intruding. He’d felt this earlier in the Archives, but had ignored it, thinking he must have been imagining it. Now, though, it feels slightly stronger. What is it?
Sorry, Master Obi-Wan. I’m reading your mind right now. I can’t see the hologram on my own, so I’m using your perception of it to see it myself.
Obi-Wan whips his head to the side, spotting the girl, Xena, looking back at him. That voice… he definitely didn’t imagine it. That was her!
Yes. Master, can I have your permission to keep doing this? I can’t tell what’s going on, otherwise.
Though slightly concerned, and more than a little disturbed, Obi-Wan gives her a silent nod. Hopefully she’s not intruding too deeply. It would not be good if she learned that Senator Amidala and Anakin have left the planet.
I can keep a secret.
It takes Obi-Wan all the willpower in the world to not curse at that. Her laughter tickles the back of his mind, almost distracting him as he paces the room, searching for the system, Kamino, among the specks of holographic light.
It’s so… fake. False. It doesn’t reflect the void, not like it truly is. I don’t like it.
Obi-Wan grimaces, ignoring her commentary. Another step and he sees a familiar pattern of stars from his research. Comparing that with the location of the Galactic center and…
“It ought to be… here, but it isn’t.” Obi-Wan says, pointing at the rough location. He waves his hand in a tight circle, indicating the cluster of stars around the missing system. “Gravity is pulling all the stars in the area towards this spot.”
“Hmm. Gravity’s silhouette remains, but the star and all the planets: disappeared, they have. How can this be?” Yoda says.
Maybe somebody declared Exterminatus and just took it all out?
Obi-Wan squints at the girl, trying to make his annoyance known. What does she even mean by “Exterminatus?” Strangely, he gets the sense of brief confusion from her, but it is soon subsumed by calculative thought.
“Master?” Xena’s voice rings out. “I think you’re correct: it must be there. It certainly looks like it should be there. If it’s not, then maybe it wasn’t properly recorded into the Archives, or perhaps an error occurred, resulting in its accidental deletion. Or — if you’re willing to consider all possibilities — its deletion could be purposeful.”
“Truly wonderful the mind of a child is.” Master Yoda chuckles at the girl’s statement. He’s not mocking her, merely acknowledging her statement. “The Youngling is right. Go to the center of gravity’s pull and find your planet you will.”
You break off from Master Kenobi’s mind as he pulls the data-orb back to himself. You trail a few steps behind as he and Master Yoda move away to confer between themselves. Yoda confirms your statement again, telling Master Kenobi that the data must have been erased, and further clarifies to him that only another Jedi could have erased those files.
Who and why anyone would do that is another matter entirely.
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More questions litter your mind now, and finally it’s something unrelated to yourself. There’s something serious afoot, but as an Initiate, you know any help you offer in earnest will be refused. Yes, you did offer a suggestion — a partial answer — to Master Kenobi’s problem, but anything more than that will likely be ignored.
A shame, but you did at least do something productive. Not only that, but you do have an answer for yourself: you will return to the ship, and you will search that room.
That hologram, a pathetic representation of the Galaxy at large, stirred something within you. You are a Navigator. Or, well, you will become a Navigator. Out there is where you belong. Out there is a Galaxy to be explored — an endless void yawning before you, yet just out of reach. That room, the room to which the shadow was pulled, must be crucial to something, and it’s time to find out exactly what.
Master Nu is, of course, right where you expect her to be: back at the front desk in the Archives. You greet her and regale her of your magnificent triumph over Master Kenobi’s problem, then settle back down for meditation.
…
It’s a very large room. Spherical in shape and spanning multiple decks.
It’s yours.
You stand at the entrance of your room. Your room.
Why is this yours? How do you know this?
The room is lined with a series of candles and gaseous lights. The dim light flickers, making your shadow dance. The creature hovers in the centroid of the room, but it’s currently shrouded from sight.
Massive banners of all hues drape down from high above, blocking most of the room from view. You walk between them, brushing them aside when need be, revealing more and more of the sanctum. You take small steps, wary of danger hidden behind the walls of cloth. As you approach the center, where the creature awaits, you push aside yet another layer of cloth and gasp.
You stand on a balcony, halfway up the cavernous room. The balcony, and the ones above and below, are ringed around, forming an empty spot in a spherical shape. A sphere within a sphere. Impeccable carvings are wrought deep into the stone balconies depicting stars and ships and skulls aplenty, and a shimmering glow casts shadows of deep contrast across the reliefs.
But, what makes your jaw drop with undisguised awe is not the beautiful works of art. No. Before you is a map, much like what Master Kenobi had: a map to the Galaxy.
This is not the same Galaxy, though. And this is not the same map.
You recognize these stars. You recognize these constellations — knowledge gained from thousands upon thousands of hours staring at them. You know them intimately.
This map is huge and far more detailed too. You can see each and every star ever cataloged by the Imperium of Man, and far more found by the Navis Nobilite, but not yet known by the Imperium as a whole. The specks of light twinkle, lit and lifted high above the floor below by arcane technology. A heresy perhaps, but one you do not wish to question.
This is a room borne from the Navis Nobilite. This is the room of a Navigator. This is your room.
Far below, directly under the map, is a bed. Even from here, you can tell that it would dwarf your body if you were to lie within its embrace. Like everything else here, it is oh-so-familiar, and yet your memory of it is hazy.
Everything here is familiar other than the shadow staring at you, surrounded by stars. And yet, you don’t remember why. You don’t know why.
It’s just… a memory of a memory, both of which are faded with time and sheared apart by something unknown.
You lean forward, resting on the stonework railing as you struggle to remember, and then suddenly you are falling.
You twist, tumbling with control imparted by your training. A second passes, and you’re only halfway down. You look back upwards, spying the balcony you fell from. The railing is still there, so why did you fall? You look further up, expecting to see the creature above, cackling at your plight, but it’s gone.
Where did it go?
You pivot, ready to land on your feet, but suddenly you’re spinning about again, your feet swept up and away. With an oomph you impact the bed, flat on your back, and bounce up before being captured by its voluminous sheets.
You lie there, watching the stars above.
And you dream.