The halls of the Archives are unusually empty at the moment and you can’t think of why. Master Nu wasn’t at her usual desk either. When you looked, a member of the EduCorps stood there, answering questions and providing guidance to visitors in her stead. It’s alright though, you’re not here for your lesson at the moment. Right now, you’re looking for something else.

You stroll along the corridors of knowledge, reveling in the gleaming blue light of information and data, processed and stored by the Temple for hundreds of years. Even though the Archives have been shown to be lacking certain, rather niche, areas, you know for a fact that Master Nu’s pride in her library is by no means unwarranted. This place holds what you want; you just need to find it.

You continue to browse, slowly searching for what you seek. The workstations could have told you where it should be, but you’re in no rush at the moment. You just want to enjoy the moment of peace and quiet.

What Master Corr said rings true: you have plenty of time. Your origins have been a mystery for over a decade; what does a few months or even years matter? Perhaps you’ll properly explore the ship later. Perhaps you’ll submerge yourself in those memories with purpose. It doesn’t matter yet, so you’ll just wait for now and learn more when you feel like it.

Or, perhaps you’ll learn more naturally as you grow. You dreamt more last night, even though you didn’t mean to.

You’d decided to sleep on Master Corr’s suggestions, resolving to make a decision the next day — today — but then you dreamed anyway! If you’re just going to learn more whether you want to or not, what’s the point in wearing yourself out by diving into it headlong?

No sense in that. None at all.

It was certainly interesting though, and it’s part of why you’re here. That dream…

≡][≡ ⬦⬦⬦ ≡][≡

A disturbance in the Warp wakes you, like a spider whose web has caught a fly. You sit up, yawning and stretching out, feeling a satisfying series of pops and cracks relieve the tension in your back. You rub your eyes — all three of them — then sit back to watch the show.

Far out at the edge of the system, at the second closest Mandeville point, a ship wreathed in anger and derision rips its way into the system — a straggler, delayed by the ever unpredictable warp. It is vomited forth by a great maw, a tear in the veil between the abstract and the concrete.

Behind it, thousands of teeth gnash, disappointed in the loss of their potential meal.

A second later, a kiloton shell smashes through them.

The ship’s thrusters blaze in the darkness of space, pushing it just barely out of the way of the next two projectiles — the first one having been dodged with mere meters to spare. The ship lurches forward, attempting to avoid the next, but its previous maneuvers have put it in exactly the wrong place to do so.

The ship’s momentum is too great. It cannot be counteracted in time, even with all torches burning and consuming fuel at a disastrous rate. Even so, they try.

And they fail.

The fourth shell ricochets off the shield, its trajectory having been nudged just slightly off course by a shifting mascon in the last planet it flew by. How could you have known the fauna were that large there, and so prone to annual migrations at this very moment? You’re a Navigator, not some dirt-caked biomancer, dammit! It’s an annoyance, but the deviation was not too significant this time.

The remaining shells, however, are exactly where they should be.

The fifth shatters the ship’s shields, overloading the beleaguered generators and robbing the ship of its precious protection.

The sixth and seventh crack the hull like the carapace of lowly shellfish and tanks, practically cosmetic damage compared to their true potential. Unfortunately, the trajectories of these shells necessitated significant bleed off of momentum to get them here at this exact second.

Even so, the eighth and ninth finish the job, crippling the ship beyond repair and consigning it to a slow death among the stars.

You smile with satisfaction. You’re not unfamiliar with the close-range knife-fights that most captains prefer, but you certainly have a much greater appreciation for the games of gravity and space-time. You could have used smart weaponry — homing weapons that utilize onboard cogitators to lock onto a target, but that’s just so avant-garde. And lasers? Lances and beams? Much too boring. Point and shoot, with such limited range. Traditional arms can never be beat. They are simplicity itself — firing projectiles that fly true. And, after all, a thousand tons of steel tend to have a certain weight to it.

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Only now do you look at your servo-skull. It hovers nearby with its amber eye flashing and an actuated jaw clapping — its teeth clacking together in a rapid rhythm. You’ve overslept by quite a bit. How many days has it been?

Doesn’t matter. You didn’t miss the spectacle.

You reach over and make a fist, then bring it down on the top of the skull.

“Five more minutes.”

≡][≡ ⬦⬦⬦ ≡][≡

A problem foreseen before it came to light and solved in an expedient manner. A violent conclusion to the previous dream.

It’s odd how you’re able to remember these dreams so well, even hours after you dreamt them.

You shake yourself out of reverie and look around. Ah, perfect. You’re in the right place. You reach out and pull the tome from the shelf. The holobook is thicker than your forearm, not that that’s saying much. Even so, it’ll be a lot of delicious knowledge to digest.

The next book and the book after that and even more after that are similar repositories of knowledge: treatises on naval history and tactics used throughout millenia. These dreams of yours exhibit ridiculous tactics, not even remotely possible without a Navigator’s abilities. Even so, your curiosity has been piqued and you’re here to sate it.

The Republic Navy has existed for thousands of years. It has a rich history, filled with exciting tales of major victories and major defeats and a million minor skirmishes in between. It has changed in size and composition over its existence, and the most recent significant change occurred at the Ruusan reformation, roughly a thousand years past.

The Republic military was massively scaled back, along with the involvement of the Jedi. Now that the Republic has no conquering warlords or dastardly Sith to put down, there is no need for more force than what a system defense fleet can provide. Therefore, why waste money in upkeep for an ancient fleet? Why retain something obsolete and useless?

The Republic Navy has been heavily neutered, but with the Separatist Crisis, perhaps it will be needed once again.

These holobooks don’t merely contain knowledge on the Republic’s Navy. They also hold a lively discussion on tactics and ships used by the Republic’s historic enemies. Whether they be marauding corsairs or the navies of enemy empires, these books preserve treatises of how they were dealt with.

There’s much to learn. Almost too much.

Where do you start?

≡][≡ ⬦⬦⬦ ≡][≡

Cho’an stands in the center of the ring, surrounded by a fleet of disabled droids. She lifts her helmet and looks at her lightsaber, expression inscrutable. Her emotions, however, are clear as day to you.

She’s elated and impressed with herself and you. You’ve finally done it. Cho’an has done it.

You’ve finally mastered the first stage of Battle Meditation, and Cho’an has also completed the training goal she set so long ago. Yes, you certainly assisted her with today’s victory, but it would not have been possible if she didn’t also have the skills to back it up.

Battle Meditation doesn’t magically gift your target your skills. It’s a means of coordination and augmentation, not a fix to a fault.

“Well done, the both of you.”

Cho’an looks up, flashing a wide smile at Master Lasah. You too turn to face her, smiling behind the mask, knowing she’ll have no trouble seeing that either.

“Thanks, Master!” the two of you say, bowing to her together. Master Lasah glides forward, lifting the droids with a wave of her hand and gently setting them to the side in a neat row. She stops in front of you and kneels down.

“Xena, you have completed the basics of Battle Meditation, but there is still much for you to learn. Your use of it is overt, force-feeding Cho’an the information she needs. There is nothing wrong with this; it is merely a part of a larger whole. What do you think you are missing?”

You know the obvious answer so you blurt it out. “Cho’an is only one person. I should be able to use it on many more people!”

“That is partially correct.” Master Lasah stands up and spreads her hands. The droids now float over and hover above her, circling once again but lifted only by the Force.

“Yes, you will be able to work with many more people in time. You have learned depth in this first stage of training — being able to guide a single person through complex actions — but you have yet to learn breadth. There will be a sacrifice of detail as you do so. The majority of minds cannot handle so many inputs or outputs at once. I cannot do it. Do not take this the wrong way, but I doubt you will either. It is simply a biological limitation on our brains.”

Master Lasah weaves the droids through random patterns, seemingly playing with them as she continues to speak.

“While you can certainly tell Cho’an where to put her foot or where to put her blade, you will not be able to do so for a thousand people at once. At that stage, other factors come into play. Perhaps you will move ships as readily as a saber, cutting through you a pirate fleet with coordinated strikes. Perhaps you will whisper encouragement to your men, reminding them of the righteousness of their actions, dealing justice upon the enemies of the innocent. Battle Meditation is a tool — one that can be expanded with the right training. If you wish to continue formally training with me, I can offer a few more sessions; enough for you to be able to train on your own in the future. I will not withhold this knowledge from you. However, I will be able to provide formal and more regular lessons only if you become my Padawan.”

“I understand. Thank you, Master Lasah.”

“You are welcome, Xena.” She smiles at you in acknowledgement, then turns away. It’s Cho’an’s turn for feedback now.

You’ll certainly take advantage of the lessons while she continues to offer them and it makes sense for her to only give more advanced lessons to her own Padawan. It’s just one more thing to consider for when you finally make your decision. Before that though, you still need to prove yourself to the Council. Speaking of which, they haven’t sent anyone to see you in a long while. Maybe they’ve just forgotten about you?

Nah, surely not. For now, you’ll wait for the time Master Lasah calls on you for help. You’ll prove yourself then, and then you’ll find a Master. You just need to be patient for a little bit longer.