Obi Wan was deathly silent as he eyed the large corridor that his Delta 7 now resided in. It was dark, so dark that he wouldn’t be able to see were it not for the lights coming off of his ship. Several pieces of the walls and ceiling had fallen off after a millennium of no use, revealing the aged wiring beneath which ran throughout the entirety of the ship. The Jedi licked his lips as he looked down at the console in front of him, which contained summary information about the environment around the Delta 7.

ATMOSPHERE: BREATHABLE

TEMPERATURE: 3°C

BIOME: UNAVAILABLE

He chewed on the inside of his mouth as he lifted his gaze back up to the lifeless hallway, particularly behind him where the grey wall of mist lay between Obi Wan and the vacuum of space, “R4, are you sure that the scans are correct?”

A series of affirmative, if equally sceptical, beeps was the response, prompting a sigh of resignation from the experienced Jedi. Well, wasn’t like he could fly out of here. With a simple press of a button the canopy of the Delta opened with a hiss, allowing the cold air from outside to fill the cockpit. Obi Wan shivered at the sudden change in temperature, however some of the tension left him. He wasn’t dead and suffocating after all.

Pulling himself up and out of the cockpit his boots made contact with the solid metal ground of the corridor. He double checked that his lightsaber was still attached securely to his side before turning back to the ship and R4, “Watch the ship while I’m gone, try to contact the Jedi as well.”

When the affirming beep came Obi Wan turned and started his cautious exploration down the corridor. It was truly so quiet, the only sound being the resounding clank of his boots upon the metal floor and the shaky breaths he took. As the corridor got darker the farther, he got from the ship before finally turning to pitch black completely once he turned the first corner, he ignited his lightsaber, illuminating the area around him in a pleasant blue.

Taking deep breaths to control the anxiety that threatened to fill him, Obi Wan continued on, eyeing every crevice and corner he could. And yet, nothing happened. Nothing leapt out at him, nothing made any sound, and nothing moved. Yet, the lack of anything happening did nothing to soothe Obi Wan’s thoughts.

When he reached the first split in the path a peculiar sight greeted him. To the right was simply more of the dark corridor, bathed in eternal darkness. To his left however, was a wall of mist, one similar to the one which he had seen before.

Cautiously Obi Wan began to reach out towards it, this time not using the Force – he had learnt his lesson from that. He was surprised as such, when his hand was stopped dead in its tracks, the wall as solid as the steel surrounding it. He frowned and tried to put a little more strength into the push, yet it remained unbudging. With a frustrated sigh Obi Wan turned and began to walk down the open corridor.

Whatever this mist, cloud, fog, or whatever it was wanted, Obi Wan had no choice but to follow its directions. As the corridor stretched onwards, still continuously empty apart from some panels which had fallen off. And then he turned the corner to find a body.

Well, body was a pretty far stretch. Lying against the wall in a scattered fashion was a pile of armour, the material faded and deteriorated to a large degree. Obi Wan froze in his tracks before he knelt down to inspect the armour. Even despite the large wear which was present, he could still identify the white and red markings of the Republic. Licking his lips he picked up the helmet carefully, turning it over in his hand. Bringing his lightsaber closer confirmed his suspicions.

Throughout the Republic’s military history, it has used relatively similar designs for its troop armours, and if one looked at a clone’s armour today to a trooper from thousands of years ago you would be able to easily spot similarities. And that was what was happening right now. Obi Wan recognised the helmet as a standard issue Republic Trooper helmet used by the Old Republic, courtesy of the many history lessons he had taken on the Republic during his tenure at the Jedi Temple.

Obi Wan gently set the helmet back down. The lack of a body was a problem, but one that could be explained via two reasons. One; it had been thousands of years at this point, any body would have been dust in the air by now. Or two; whatever was keeping him here had… disposed of the body. At the very least he now knew that this was indeed what it was; a flagship from the days of the Old Republic.

With nothing more to do Obi Wan stood up and continued on the path set before him, his face set in a grim determination. The corridor seemed to go on forever though, and yet the fog walls at the intersections continued to direct him, as though herding a sheep. There were a few more piles of armour around, some laying against the wall like the first one, others scattered across the entire floor. There were no marks on the armour that was not caused by the tests of time, so they clearly had not been killed via something like a boarding party.

Finally, after what seemed like miles of corridors, he reached something that wasn’t more corridor or a mist wall blocking his way. A large door was in front of him, with said door seeming to have been forcefully pried open, with the right panel of it slightly askew and dented, leaving a gap about the size of a man open. Setting his jaw Obi Wan squeezed through the gap, his eyes widening as he looked around where he was.

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In front of him was numerous amounts of consoles, all centred and based around one large console below. Past them, the walls had been replaced by glass leading to a view of the space outside. He was at the bridge. Obi Wan was positively thrilled at this. Being here meant the possibility of answers. Every Republic vessel, even those from thousands of years ago like this one, always had a Blackbox, a device which was separate from all power supplies and systems but which recorded everything. The purpose was so that in the event a missing ship was recovered people could tell exactly what happened to it.

With excited yet cautious steps he descended the steps towards the captain’s area, a large circular console and chair standing alone while every other console on the bridge surrounded it from an elevated position. Getting to the console Obi Wan tapped the ON button hopefully before sighing in disappointment. He shouldn’t have been too hopeful that the captain’s console would at least work, after all power would have run out thousands of years ago.

Shaking his head to refocus he lay down beneath the console, brushing his hands and gaze over the bottom for what he was looking for. One of his fingers pressed down, bringing a smile to his face as a panel clicked open, revealing the Blackbox, looking like nothing more than another hard drive, were it not for the blue markings which differentiated it from the other hard drives.

Taking it out, he got back to his feet and eagerly started to begin the journey back to the ship so that R4 could start the decryption process. He paused however as something on the captain’s chair caught his attention. A golden mask with human features was set gently against the back of the seat, its features mimicking that of what one would most associate with a handsome human male, however the effect was somewhat reduced due to how dulled the gold had become, losing much of its lustre. What really interested him however was the small device which sat in front of it.

“A… recorder?” Came Obi Wan’s confused voice.

Pocketing the Blackbox in one of his pouches Obi Wan reached out to tentatively grab the small device. Looking it over, the device appeared to be in a much better condition than the rest of the ship, although that was a pretty low bar to pass. Finding the play button, Obi Wan did not expect much when he pressed it.

Only for a small hologram to fizzle into existence above the recorder, almost causing the Jedi to drop it. The hologram depicted a man cloaked in Jedi robes, with little to identify him apart from the mask he wore. A mask which exactly matched the golden one in the chair. Before Obi Wan could begin to process this however the hologram began to speak.

“This is Jedi Master Coval of the Jedi Order. These are my last rites, but also a warning to all who find this.” The newly named Coval turned his head to something unseen to the side briefly before looking back at the recorder, “The crew are dead, or soon to be dead. I am to join them upon the completion of this recording. In fact, that is the only reason I yet draw breath.

“Simply put, we were not prepared. Not in the slightest. And no one ever will be for what lies in this force forsaken planet. The entire might of the Sith and Republic could be brought against Kavir, and they would all die. In short, my ship, the Shield of Aaloth, lasted 2 minutes against the Storm. 2 minutes. This was only because it tried to warn us away for the first minute and a half. And while I would like to say that my intentions were pure and that my goal was only good, I would be lying, and when death is at your doorstep you should try to be honest.

“This war is terrible, more terrible than any that ever has, and ever will happen. I thought that I could end it, use the Storm or whatever caused it to defeat the Sith once and for all. My rival, Ominit, also had the same goals yet died before he could achieve them. What I would give to switch places with him right now…

“The Storm… it’s something else. It cannot be rivalled by any other being in the entire galaxy. If it wanted it could kill everything.” He glanced off to the side again and seemed to flinch away at something, “However, it doesn’t want to, as it is so kindly pointing out.” He looked back to the recorder again, his tone more graven than before, “I don’t know who you are or why you are here. But the Storm has complete control over this recording and who sees it. And if it wanted to show you this, it wants to tell you the same thing it told me. Stay away. You can’t, and never will understand it. Leave Kavir and its people alone. This is your only warning.”

Coval looked off to the side before he visibly relaxed, a quick and whispered ‘thank you’ to whoever was off to the side before he looked back, “To the person who holds this recording, whether it be Jedi, Sith, or something else entirely. It doesn’t matter if this recording is only needed tens of thousands of years in the future. Please, find out what happened to Kandria. She was in my charge, and under my arrogance of believing I could singlehandedly end the war she disappeared, likely dead. I understand if you can’t but… please. I would truly be put to rest.”

He straightened his back and looked off to the side, “Alright, get it on with then.”

The recording began to fizzle out as a thick fog twirled around him, snapping his neck to kill him instantly before completely obscuring him from sight, the recording finally ending. Obi Wan was frozen. Frozen in shock from what he had just witnessed. Frozen in confusion at all the new questions that this had brought up. But there was one particular thing which kept him frozen, one thing which the other Masters would chastise him for.

Fear.

Fear, because he felt something. Something soft snaking along his neck, like a light breeze on a summer’s day. Sweat dripping down his face, Obi Wan slowly turned his hid to look behind him. Leaning in close enough to almost touch him was the feminine figure he had seen out side the ship, its hands held behind its back as it leaned forward.

“W̵̢̘̤̤̠̑̈́̓͂̈́͘͜͝ë̴̮͕̬̆͗̈́̊̅͗̈́̀̾͗̎̚͝͝l̴̨̧̟͚̜̠̟̯̒̌l̸̦̟̹̖̖̰̼͖̤̣͐̔͝ͅ ̸̱͑̑̽̃̓̐̅̅͘͘w̴̨͕͓̬͖̥̙̠̌͂̈̍̈́̑̕͠h̸̬͓̝͚̖̥͎̺̾͆̄͒̈͒̓ä̷̡̟̺̩̯̤̰̠̱̟̻́̍͒͛͋̓̌͌͒̀̎̕ẗ̷̬̤̞̪̱͕̹̩̫̮̥́̓̇̐̉͑̈́̊̈́̋̐̕͘͜͠ ̵̡̢̛̞̖̥͉̺̳̫̘̹̤̝̞̟͋͊̈́́́͐͑a̵̡̨͕̭͙̱̪̱͕̝̪̱͒̈̈́͑̅̍͛̑̾̄͋͠ŗ̸̛̩̟͍̬̮̹͎̹̦͚̥̽̌͐̊̅̇͂̆̋̑̏̈́̔͐e̷̯̹̺͔̤̿̿̀͊͆̽̅́̏̕͝ ̵̮͈̖̺̻̯͓̻̱͖̹̳̙̉̽̽͑̐̉̅͐̌̚͘͘͝͝͠y̷͚̠͖̺̗̺̞͔̟̫͎̰͌ǫ̵̖̻͈̝̲̬͉̖̳̼̥̀́͛̕ǘ̶̧͍̤͈͖͇̖̙̙̥̮̫͔̯͆̆̀̾̆̈̉̇̈́̈̌͘͘͠ ̸͙̬͔̰̹̲͎͑͗̔̀̀͘͠w̵͈͎̘̗̌̂̒͒͌̅͒͒͝â̶̫̘͍̩̫̑̔́̔͗̓͂̌̕ͅí̶̤̺͈̇̂̈́̋̇́͜͠t̵̛̜̙̤̹̳̳͈̬͍̼̅͋̑̃͒̈́̄͐͋͂̾̈́̍͜i̴̢͖̪̒̒͊̚͜͝n̸̡͈͚̟͙͚̼̫͈͐̓̄̐̀̈́̽͘͜g̸̪͎̼̹͑̒͋̅̃̀̔͌̔͝ ̸̨̛̙̲͑̏́̎̃̿͋̈́̇̕͠͠f̷̨̬̱̬̒̿̋̋̑͊͘̚͝ő̸̭͍̠̮̤̯̪̙̭̣̱̠̬̈̒͗͑̂̚ͅṙ̵͚̳͉̞̩͉̰̩̉̇̑̉̈͜?̵̧̛̪͉͚̦̰̑͊̽̍̒̀̌̉̽̓̂͌͘͝” Came a thousand voices all at once, all around him, as the tendril of air teasingly crawled around his neck, “R̴̰͛͗̍͌͂̊̂̃͛̂̏̈̒̏͋ứ̵̧̪̰̻̭̤̒͊͗̅̈́̈́̆̅̀͘͘n̷͍͔͙͓̝̫͚̥̆͂̌̔̈.̵̨̻͎͈̝̹͇̝̺̩͇̫̗̘̝̓͆̄̓̉͠.̶͈̗̻͎̖̻̤̙͔̝̲̥̼̤̈́̃͊́̑̾̿̔̒͂̽͘̚.̴͔͖̣̤͕͈̘̀̂̓̍”

Obi Wan had never ran so fast in his life.