| abstract
| - Nebulax gripped the handles of the bed as tightly as he could, staring at the blank white wall across the room. His teeth were gritted in pain as the medical droid poked at his chest, plucking out shrapnel fragments from his body. An oxygen mask was clasped over his face, helping him breathe after suffering brief periods of hypoxia when the explosions had ripped through the hangar. He had managed to escape out of the observation lounge into an adjacent corridor, but the explosion had still shattered a console, leaving them with a dozen pieces of metal and plastine embedded in his chest and momentary decompression. Fortunately, he had managed to scramble free and call for help. As a result, he was sitting here in the examination chair while the droid pulled shrapnel from him instead of lying in a coffin. He winced as the droid removed another metal sliver. Glaring over at the entrance to the infirmary, he saw Convarion standing at ease, doing his best not to look while the captain was treated. Nebulax assumed a sour expression on his face and beckoned Convarion inside. The lieutenant entered, a subdued countenance on his face for once, walking over to Nebulax and coming to attention. “Report, Lieutenant,” he said through a clenched jaw. “How is my ship?” Convarion stiffened, no doubt ill-pleased with having to bear bad news. “Hangar turbolaser turrets are completely destroyed,” he said. “Tractor beams are badly damaged but repairable. We also lost seven of our starfighters, which blocked the hangar entrance. We’re working on restoring flight operations.” “Timetable?” Nebulax asked, gasping as the droid inserted its probe a bit deeper. “Estimate flight ops within the next four hours,” Convarion reported. “Make it three,” Nebulax bit out harshly. “Sir, I—,” Convarion started. “Three,” Nebulax repeated, glaring fiercely at his executive officer. “Yes, sir,” Convarion answered, swallowing heavily. “Casualties?” Nebulax asked. “Lieutenant Albers is dead. We lost the scanning crew, the squad of stormtroopers, and another eleven personnel in the hangar. Another twenty-nine were wounded, counting yourself, sir.” “And Ajaur?” “Sir, he survived,” Convarion informed him, casting a glance over to the surgical ward. “At least most of him did. He is in surgery now.” “I want to be informed when he awakes,” Nebulax said as the droid applied the last bandage to his chest. “I’ll be on the bridge.” Rising from the chair, he pulled on a fresh shirt and uniform tunic, clasping it closed. “Shouldn’t you rest, sir?” Convarion asked. “Did we destroy that ship, Lieutenant?” Nebulax demanded. “Uh . . . no, sir,” Convarion answered. “Did we capture that ship?” “No, sir,” Convarion admitted. “Then don’t talk to me of rest, Convarion,” Nebulax snapped. “Listen closely if you ever want a command of your own. In the Imperial Navy, if somebody attacks your ship or your crew, you don’t rest. You hunt them down with the full power and justice of the Empire. Is that clear?” “Understood, sir,” Convarion answered. “Good,” Nebulax rasped, heading for the door. “Lieutenant, I want all available information on that ship and its crew. Make sure the entire Empire is looking for them.” “Yes, sir,” Convarion replied dutifully. With that, Nebulax stormed off to the bridge. He spent the next eleven hours overseeing repair operations as the Star Destroyer nursed the wound in its underside and limped back to Zhar. As flight operations were restored and damage control crews swarmed around the hangar, returning it to its pristine state, Nebulax finally allowed himself to relax momentarily. His temporarily lapse in tension was immediately dispelled as he saw Convarion approaching with an ashen look on his face. “What is it, Lieutenant?” Nebulax asked. “Ajaur is awake and headed this way, sir,” Convarion reported. “He’s quite angry.” Nebulax’s stomach soured at the thought of dealing with Ajaur, recalling that the last time they had met, the Inquisitor had somehow strangled him from across the room. Within minutes, Ajaur entered the bridge. His rage was almost palpable, exuding from him like a black storm cloud. He stalked up to Nebulax with fury written across his face, teeth clenched in seething anger. Fresh scars covered his face in revolting white blotches and streaks where the hot gases and shrapnel had marked him, adding to his previous scar. One of his eyes was also gone, replaced by an implant that now glowed a malevolent red. “You and your men failed, Captain,” he said menacingly. “You allowed that ship to get away.” “Ours was not the only failure, Inquisitor,” Nebulax replied stiffly. “You likewise failed to prevent a ragtag group of spacers from escaping your grasp.” Ajaur’s remaining eye burned with anger. He jabbed a finger threateningly at Nebulax. “Do not cross me, Captain. Your incompetence will be noted in my report, if you even survive that long.” Nebulax glared back, unwilling to back down in front of the entire bridge crew. If Ajaur wanted to pull his shenanigans here, in front of all the crew, then he would accept the consequences rather than have his authority brooked. The Inquisitor and the officer stared balefully at each other for several seconds before Convarion suddenly interrupted. “Sir, communique from Imperial Center for Inquisitor Ajaur. They’ll be online in ten minutes.” “I’ll take it in my chambers,” Ajaur growled, turning to Nebulax for a parting shot. “ “Use this reprieve well, Captain,” Ajaur said. “Or I will have you replaced.” With that, he stormed off to his chambers. Before he answered the message, he needed to calm himself. He needed to use his remaining minutes to clear himself for whatever orders would come. For he knew the peril of the person who wanted to speak with him, and he would need every bit of strength he could summon for the conversation. The petulant captain and his incompetent crew could wait. Ajaur sat cross-legged inside his dimly lit, spartan quarters onboard the Corrupter, meditating as he let the burning fire of the dark side of the Force fill his being, empowering him. He had much to learn of its mysteries and had yet to truly harness its power. While he had been trained in the arts of lightsaber combat, both as a Jedi and after he had joined the Emperor’s service, and in other aspects of the Force, Ajaur had yet to attain full mastery of the dark side. Anger was the key, he had concluded some time ago, and had focused his efforts on truly summoning the rage needed to draw more deeply on the dark side’s power. Breathing deeply, he brought to mind dark deeds and memories of his past. The injustice which had stung him when no Master chose him as a Padawan. The resentment of serving in the Agricultural Corps. The anger he had felt upon the slaughter of his comrades by the white-armored clones. Ajaur remembered that day well; it had changed his life forever. He had fought, along with a hundred other workers, against the troopers, wielding lightsabers dropped by fallen Jedi, scavenged blasters from clone corpses, or whatever farm implements or vehicles they had had available. They had fallen by the dozen, but the clones had suffered also. Ajaur had led the charge against their faceless attackers, burning with anger and wielding a lightsaber taken from an overseer riddled with blaster burns. He had called on the dark side for the first time that day, cutting down clone after clone as the mindless hate had overwhelmed him. However, it had all been in vain once he had arrived. Darth Vader, the Dark Lord of the Sith, and a fearsome harbinger of doom. Ajaur had dueled Vader briefly, but he was no match for the Sith. His weapon destroyed, he had received from Vader the horrific scar on his face, humiliating and disfiguring him. On his knees before Vader’s humming blade, he had begged for mercy, and Vader had let him live after he swore allegiance to Darth Sidious. The Sith must have sensed the dark side in him and seen his potential. However, potential and hatred were not enough for Ajaur. He burned to become increasingly more powerful. One day, he would seek his revenge against Vader and avenge himself against the foe that had bested him and turned him into a servile creature. Still, he had rather enjoyed much of his service. No friend of the Jedi after their rejection, he relished the screams of those who still blindly followed their teachings, and had personally cut down several fugitive Padawans, too weak to pose a serious threat and too stupid to hide or join the Empire. The pleasure that those memories brought him threatened to spoil his cloud of anger, so Ajaur dispelled them, focusing on the injustices done to him. Then he knew his time was up. Rising out of his cross-legged position and whirling to his feet, Ajaur headed just as a red light began blinking and a tone sounding from his private holocomm. Immediately, Ajaur walked over and activated the console to receive the transmission. A life-size hologram of the black armored humanoid figure of Darth Vader shimmered into existence. Upon the sight of his lord, Ajaur immediately dropped to one knee in obeisance, careful to conceal his resentment and hatred of Vader. The armored Sith Lord was still easily more than a match for him, and one of the few things in the galaxy that could truly frighten Ajaur. “My lord, what do you command?” “Ajaur, you are to immediately head for the Suarbi system,” rumbled Vader, not bothering with pleasantries in the slightest. “My lord, this ship was just attacked by a Jedi hiding within a freighter crew.” Vader was nonplussed. “And you are only now reporting this?” “I was incapacitated in the battle,” Ajaur was forced to admit. “Was the Jedi destroyed?” Vader asked. “No,” Ajaur confessed. “He escaped into hyperspace.” “That was most . . . unwise of you,” Vader warned him ominously. “The Emperor does not tolerate failure.” “Of course, my lord,” Ajaur replied. “I shall hunt him down and destroy him.” “No,” Vader said. “I have another mission for you in the Suarbi system. One last chance for you to redeem yourself.” “As you wish, my lord. What is your desire?” inquired Ajaur tentatively. “There is a small enclave of Jedi and sympathizers hiding on a moon of that world. You will seize the system for the Empire and neutralize them, Inquisitor,” Vader ordered, the rasp of his respirator evident even through the holocomm. “It shall be as you command,” Ajaur answered. “I should expect so,” said Vader. “Report back to me when you have finished dealing with the Jedi traitors.” “Understood, my lord,” Ajaur replied. “Do not fail me again, Ajaur,” Vader warned him. “Or you will wish that Jedi had finished you.” With that, Vader’s image winked out, leaving Ajaur to stand for a moment as he shuddered appreciatively and processed his new instructions. The Inquisitor was temporarily deprived of his usual menacing aura, or perhaps his own air of lethality had been overshadowed by the grim specter of Vader. Whatever the case, he needed to speak with Captain Nebulax immediately. Ajaur quickly reassumed his characteristically grim and frightening demeanor and strode out to the bridge, exuding peril. It was time for some new orders. “Captain Nebulax,” Ajaur called as he suddenly entered the bridge. Alarmed at the sudden and unwarned appearance of the Inquisitor, Nebulax whirled the chair to face the Inquisitor, who looked even more pale and sour of mood than usual. “Yes, Inquisitor?” Nebulax forced as much pleasantness into his voice as possible. “You will immediately set your course for the Suarbi system, Captain. And have this ship prepared for combat upon our reversion.” Ajaur turned and began walking off. Incensed, Nebulax was not about to let him get away that easily. “This ship goes nowhere unless I have clear orders as to the nature of the mission.” The Inquisitor, obviously irked at having his instructions challenged, stopped in mid-stride, redirecting his attention and ire back towards Nebulax. “Your instructions, Captain, are to do as I say. We are to journey to the Suarbi system. Immediately.” Though he was internally terrified of crossing Ajaur after the man’s earlier threats, Nebulax knew that every eye on the bridge was focused on him. Were he to back down so easily, every crew member would know within the day that the Inquisitor had him cowed too. “This ship does not simply alter its mission based on the personal whim of anyone but the Emperor,” said Nebulax stiffly. “Is that so?” asked Ajaur, regarding Nebulax with a twisted smile. “True enough. My orders are not from the Emperor, in this you are correct, but they do come from Lord Darth Vader. If you doubt my veracity, perhaps I can arrange for you to contact his Lordship.” Nebulax paled. If Ajaur had managed to instill a level of unpleasantness about the ship, Darth Vader was reputed to be a hundred times worse. Just mentioning Vader evoked unpleasant tales in the mind of any officer who had heard of him. Vader was said to have little patience for incompetence, and even less for failure. Scuttlebutt among the fleet circles had Vader as some sort of mysterious high-ranking enforcer, but no one actually dared to find out what his true nature was. “I see,” Nebulax finally managed. “Surely Lord Vader provided some mission details? If you have them, they would be most useful to myself and the senior officers as we plan for arrival in the system.” “Very well, Captain,” said Ajaur, half-mockingly. “You are to prepare this ship for the immediate occupation of the Suarbi system. Anticipated resistance is unknown, but will likely not exceed the combat capabilities of this vessel. I will provide any further instruction that is needed.” “Well, keep me posted, Inquisitor,” said Nebulax. “The more information I have, the better this ship will accomplish its mission.” “There is one other thing, Captain Nebulax. Prepare your ground troops for a surface engagement. Tell them to expect Jedi.” With that, Ajaur turned and strode off of the bridge, his black boots clacking on the metal deck as his cloak swirled around him. Nebulax watched him go, his right eye twitching with a trace of resentment, and then he was back to business as usual, issuing orders to the navigator and pilot. Nebulax quickly instructed the chief staff officer to schedule a senior officer meeting in three hours to discuss preparations for the journey to Suarbi, then retired to his quarters to contemplate his new orders and to calm down from his confrontation with Ajaur. Deep space Spectre slowly eased the Hawk-bat in through the ionized gases of the nebula, throttling back as he searched the terrain-following sensors for a suitable place to set the battered freighter down on the rocky world they had found. Traveling at only a quarter of the Hawk-bat’s typical cruising speed, the ship soared over dark, craggy mountain ranges jutting into the sky, deep crevasses, and frozen methane ice plains, as alien and inhospitable a landscape as Spectre had ever seen. The sheer number of amber and red lights on his display indicated the urgent need to land and make repairs to the freighter. Trimming the throttle, he switched over to repulsor engines, noting with displeasure the rumbling motion the ship made as he did so. Finally, finding a fairly flat and somewhat sheltered area inside a large crater several kilometers across, Spectre extended the landing gear and gently set the Hawk-bat down inside the rocky basin. “What does the atmosphere consist of?” asked Sarth, who was grabbing a tool kit. “Not much atmosphere here, just a little methane, nitrogen, and hydrogen. Let’s go with full enviro-suits,” replied Spectre. “Agreed,” Sarth replied. Sarth and Milya quickly donned the bulky, fully enclosed environment suits before stepping into the Hawk-bat’s main personnel airlock and lowering the ramp. Spectre made do with fully-sealed katarn-class clone commando armor that they had salvaged years earlier from a pair of Mistryl attackers. Then they ventured out onto the surface of the planet. “Wow,” Sarth said as he took in the sky. Spectre agreed with the sentiment. The view of the nebula was breathtaking, the brilliant hues of the ionized gas particles forming a breathtaking view against the glittering dust of the starfield behind it. Tendrils of azure and golden gas coalesced into luminescent clouds of white, cyan, and crimson matter, lighting up the sky. Closer stars appeared as shining orbs of white fire. It was magnificent to behold and each of them took a moment to survey the stellar wonder before them. “I’ll get a good recording of that,” said Sarth softly. “That alone almost makes it worth it setting down on this rock.” The group took a quick walk around the ship, surveying the area for signs of trouble. There was no sense in staying on a planet filled with hostile aliens or vicious predators. On a world with such a thin atmosphere and so often bathed by radiation from the nebula, Spectre doubted that anything could survive here, but he wanted to be sure. The ground here was mostly igneous rock of a blackish nature, fire-hardened and likely formed from meteor impacts or ancient volcanoes, long extinct. Around them, the sharp, jagged walls of the crater loomed about half a kilometer upwards, leading to a foreboding atmosphere around their landing zone. The sharp peaks of the crater wall indicated a fairly recent impact, Sarth informed them. Their steps were lighter here, a sign of weaker gravity than on most habitable worlds. After a quick sweep yielded nothing, he and Spectre went to work effecting repairs on the Hawk-bat’s damaged engines, laboring as best as they could inside the awkward gloves and bulk of the enviro-suits, while Cassi provided input from inside the ship via a comlink. It was long and laborious work. Sarth and Spectre had to negotiate not only with making repairs in their suits, but also dealing with tools that weren’t designed to work in such thin atmosphere, as well as scrounging spare parts from their limited store. Several hours passed before they were finally able to reroute and replace the ship’s damaged control circuitry. Sarth shook his head to clear it from the dizziness he was beginning to feel. Spectre saw his discomfort. “Maybe we should take a break,” he said. “Get you some food and recharge the air in that thing.” “Not a bad idea,” Sarth admitted. “The port engine manifold will still be there when we get back.” He, Spectre, and Milya headed back into the ship, where Cassi pulled together some sandwiches and fruit along with bottles of water. “How’s Selu?” Sarth asked. “Still resting,” Cassi replied. “I gave him something to help him sleep.” Four hours into disassembling and replacing parts on the port engine manifold, Milya walked over to where Spectre was helping Sarth weld a new power relay for the repulsorlifts into place. “Hey guys, there’s something I think you should see,” she said. “Is it important?” asked Sarth distractedly, his mind focused on the arc welder in his hands. “It might be,” Milya replied. “There’s something glowing about a quarter kilometer across the crater. It’s like some kind of border.” “I see,” Sarth replied, finishing up the weld in a shower of sparks. “Wait, what?” Rather than explain herself again, Milya simply pointed across the landscape to where a faint glow could be seen emanating from the ground. “What in space?” muttered Sarth as he extricated himself from under the engine to take a look for himself. Spectre followed suit and the three of them carefully approached it. A tingling sensation ran down Spectre’s back as they drew closer to the ring. Traces of light were emanating from what appeared to be a faint fissure in the rock that traced a crooked perimeter around a narrow area of the crater floor, as if the glow was leaking from a container whose lid wasn’t fully fastened. Sarth consulted his handheld scanner. “Doesn’t appear to be artificial. Or the result of any living thing,” he said. “And it’s not radioactive aside from the visible frequencies. At least, not in a way I can detect.” “This place is weird,” Milya remarked. “Gives me the chills.” “Don’t get too close,” Spectre warned. “We don’t know what it is.” “You think it might be worth telling Selu about?” Sarth asked. Milya stared at the eerie luminescence for several seconds, considering the question. Finally, she slowly nodded. “I’ll be back,” she said, heading for the Hawk-bat. She made her way back into the ship and headed aft to the crew compartments. Knocking on the door that led to Selu’s quarters, she waited until the door slid open. Selu was in his bed, lying on his back, eyes closed, a blanket covering him from the waist down. His head was wrapped and there was a large bacta patch on his ribs. Angry bruises covered his face and torso, but if the wounds bothered her, she didn’t let it show. Milya Tayrce had seen a lot of violence in her young life. “Yes?” he asked as she entered. “How are you feeling?” she inquired. Selu opened his eyes fractionally, arching one eyebrow. “Better,” he answered hoarsely. Selu did not elaborate on his condition. He did not want her pity, nor did he deem it necessary to give her a complete evaluation. He was capable enough, and if she had something more serious to tell him, then he would find the necessary strength to handle the situation. “What is it?” Now that she was here, Milya was at a loss for how to explain what the rest of the crew had found. “We found something,” she said at last. “Something?” he asked quizzically. “A glow,” Milya said. “Coming from the ground near the ship around a piece of ground. Sarth says it’s not a living thing or artificially generated—but that means we have no idea how it exists.” Selu sat up slightly. “Is it affecting our ability to make repairs?” he asked. “Well, no,” Milya told him. “But I thought you should at least know. It’s . . . unsettling.” “In what way?” Selu asked. Milya shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “I don’t know,” she replied evasively. “It’s strange, but that’s not all of it. Whenever I get closer, I feel like there’s something inviting me to it. It’s not quite a voice in my head, but . . . there’s definitely a draw to approach it that I can’t explain.” Selu sat up fully. “All right, I’ll check it out,” he said. “Let me get dressed.” Milya nodded and left the room. A few minutes later, he emerged in his normal ship’s attire and headed for the locker where they stored the enviro-suits. Once properly suited up, he made his way towards the main hatch. Milya noted that he was walking with a stiff gait, his steps tentative and abbreviated. “Are you sure you’re up to this?” she asked him. Selu stopped. “You should have thought of that before you mentioned the glowing rocks. I’ll be fine.” She scowled, biting back a snide reply. The insinuation that she was inconsiderate cut deeply, eroding at any sympathy she might have felt for him otherwise. Selu started forward again. “Do you want your lightsaber?” Milya asked. “When I want it, I’ll bring it,” Selu answered sharply, not even wanting to mention the emblematic weapon of the heritage he had turned his back on. He exited the hatch onto the crater floor, Milya following a minute later. Drawing near the uneven perimeter of the glowing stone, he slowly knelt down to study it, stretching a hand out over the glow. “Interesting,” he murmured. “What’s interesting?” Spectre asked. “The Force is very strong here,” Selu answered. “This light . . . appears to be caused by it.” “I can’t sense anything,” Cassi told him. “But it feels inviting.” She took a tentative step forward and suddenly plunged through the rock face as her foot sank through the ground, disappearing into darkness with a terrified shriek cut short as soon as she vanished. Sarth tried to catch her, but tumbled forward as well. Instead of falling onto solid ground, he slipped through and was lost to the others’ sight. Without hesitation, Selu leaped after them. As soon as he passed through the ‘surface,’ he realized he was falling down a chasm. Craggy black rock walls surrounded him, only faintly illuminated by the ambient glow. The dim twinkle of lights ahead revealed that Sarth and Cassi were still falling as well. Streamlining his body, he accelerated himself downwards toward them. He could hear Sarth and Cassi screaming again as they fell—apparently the surface they had fallen through blocked transmissions as well. Their descent wasn’t as quick as he would have expected due to the weaker gravity, but it was still fast enough to lead to a lethal impact. “I’m coming,” he called reassuringly. Hurtling downward, he was almost even with Sarth when the chasm narrowed. Sarth and Cassi tumbled through the gap with minimal contact while Selu was smashed into a protruding shelf. Selu sensed urgent danger and tried to catch up, plummeting ever faster by shoving at his back with the Force. Finally reaching Sarth, he grabbed at his brother’s leg and hauled him upward, slamming his back into the wall. Selu braced his feet against the opposite wall, sliding down it as he tried to arrest their momentum through friction. Far below them, he could see the lights on the back of Cassi’s enviro-suit fading into the inky blackness. “Get Cassi!” Sarth shouted. “You first!” Selu replied. “She might not have the time!” Sarth insisted frantically. “Selu, please!” Selu gave no reply. Instead, he drew a vibroblade from his belt sheath, thumbed it on, stabbed it deep into the rock face until it was secure, then jerked it to the side and switched it off so the hilt protruded. Simultaneously, he grabbed Sarth and swung him across the chasm. “Grab the blade!” Selu called as they were finally slowed to near a stop. “Hang on!” Sarth complied, grabbing the handle and gripping it. Selu immediately released him and plunged down into the darkness again after Cassi. The chasm narrowed again, bashing him around painfully inside his suit, but soon he could see her suit lights once more. Selu tried to arrest her momentum with the Force, but she was plummeting too fast. Cursing under his breath, he redoubled his efforts to keep up with her. After several more agonizing seconds of free-falling through a dark chasm, he finally pulled even with her. “Cassi!” he shouted, but there was no reply. However, there was no time for further conversation if he wanted to save her life. He grabbed her from behind and she screamed in terror, flailing as he gripped her tightly. Selu released her after she nearly kicked him off and plunged deeper until he was below her. Bracing himself, he spread-eagled himself across the cavern wall to pull himself to a stop, and then as Cassi darted by, shot out one hand to grab hers. The jerk on his shoulder was immense as he had to fully arrest her momentum with that one arm. Yet somehow, Selu managed it, despite the pain shooting through his arm and shoulder. He would not let her go. To her credit, she tried to swing her other arm up to catch his, which helped secure her grip, but did nothing to alleviate the strain on his shoulder. Now that he had caught her, he would have to find a way to get her to the wall, and then a way back up. The thought alone caused fresh beads of sweat to form on his face as his shoulder trembled at trying to carry her weight and the enviro-suit on a single arm extended below him. His other arm was likewise having difficulty, being forced to brace more than its fair share on the opposite wall. Moreover, he couldn’t talk to her without his comlink working, though since Cassi’s screaming had stopped, he realized that he could at least hear her. They hung like that for several tense seconds as Selu wracked his mind thinking of a plan. “Selu, wait,” she said with surprising calm. “Let me go.” Selu shook his head. “I’m serious,” she replied. “Release me. It’s not that far down. See?” With his back to the presumed chasm floor, Selu couldn’t bring his neck around in the bulky environment suit to see, but the certainty in her voice convinced him. He released his grip on the wall and they both fell. Like Cassi had said, it was a fairly short drop, only a few meters, and they hit the bottom of the cave floor with a loud thud, side by side. “Oh my,” Cassi said as she picked herself up. Selu heard the faint hissing sound too. Her suit was compromised. Rolling over to face her, he saw the faint puff of air emerging from her suit’s left knee. Grabbing the emergency patch kit that was fitted to all of their suits, he extracted a patch and strapped it around the leak, sealing the tear. “Thanks,” Cassi said. “No problem,” Selu answered, looking up. “Well, what are we going to do now?” she asked him. Selu pointed upward. “Climb,” he said. “I can’t climb that high,” she replied. “Even if I could, I don’t think the suit patch would hold.” “That’s why you’re staying here,” he told her as he checked the chasm face above him for handholds and then began climbing upward. It was a long and agonizing climb up the rough surface of the rock face, particularly in the bulky enviro-suit. Thankfully, the lighter gravity meant that it was easier going than it would have been otherwise. Without his vibroblade or other climbing tools, Selu often had to skirt around the entire circumference of the narrow abyss just to find the next handhold, which was exhausting work. His entire body ached and throbbed with exertion as he pulled himself up, meter by meter. Selu knew that if he had been more comfortable with using the Force, he could have simply leaped upward with Force-augmented strength to gain several dozen meters at once. However, he was trying to avoid its use, eschewing the use of power that he had seen firsthand could easily be used for evil. Instead, he relied on his own strength. His still sore and bruised body protested the strenuous climb, but he gritted his teeth and endured. Sweat soaked his clothes and he could see his breath beginning to fog up the visor. Selu managed to reach where Sarth was hanging on for dear life, clutching the hilt of the vibroblade. “She’s fine, right?” Sarth asked, no doubt having heard them over the comlinks. “She’s fine,” Selu said as he perched on the rock face. Hearing a scraping sound from above, he looked up to see two more sets of lights descending. “Can anyone hear us?” Milya asked. “We’re all right!” Sarth replied. “Down here!” “Good to hear from you too,” Selu answered dryly. “The surface must block transmissions.” “We’re on our way down,” Spectre told them. “Had to dig some climbing gear out of the ship.” Several minutes later, Spectre and Milya rappelled down to where Sarth and Selu were hanging. “Let’s get you on the rope,” Milya said, handing him the carbon-fiber cord she had been using to descend to their position. She clipped Sarth’s suit onto the line with a carabiner. Spectre shifted over towards Selu to do likewise. “Grab hold,” Spectre instructed Selu. Selu reached out to grab hold of the cord, but his fingers slipped. He overextended to grasp it, but in the process lost his footing. Tumbling down through the chasm, he slammed into the walls several times as he fell uncontrollably. Shock at his failure to grab the cord had temporarily overwhelmed his ability to think rationally, and thus arrest his fall. Only as he plunged closer and closer towards the bottom of the shaft did he realize the urgency of the scenario. There was only one option left. Reorienting himself to land feet first, he called on the Force to slow his descent, just as he had done a hundred times as a Jedi Knight. He landed on both feet, knees bent to absorb the impact, with enough force to stir up a cloud of dust when he landed, but not enough to leave him with permanent harm. “Selu!” Milya called after him. “He’s fine,” Cassi reported as Selu straightened up and began trying to shake the tension out of his limbs. “I think.” “I’m fine,” he answered, though he was a little shaken. “We’re on our way down,” Spectre reported. “We’ll get you out of there in no time.” Selu had no objection with that, preferring to catch his breath and wait alongside Cassi while the others slowly rappelled down. About halfway down, they had to switch to using a single line in order to pull the other cord down as it wasn’t long enough. Finally, Sarth, Spectre, and Milya reached the bottom of the chasm. They shone their glowrods around the small chamber, but found nothing but sheer rock walls climbing for hundreds of meters in every direction. The faint glow still gave the chasm more illumination than the pitch black they would normally expect in such a deep chasm, but it was still dark, with nothing but dry darkened stone surrounding them. With all five of them in the cave, it was uncomfortably crowded, particularly in bulky enviro-suits. “Well, that was exciting,” Sarth remarked. “Everyone okay?” Milya asked. The others more or less nodded, including Selu, even if that wasn’t the entire truth in his case. “Now for the bigger question,” Spectre said. “How did we all fall through what looks like solid rock and blocks comlink transmissions and scans?” “It’s not a hologram,” Sarth answered. “I would have detected it.” “Some kind of mist?” Cassi suggested. “Maybe it reflects its surroundings and makes it look solid.” “That’s a pretty solid mist then,” Sarth replied skeptically. “And the scans should have detected that as well. It looked like solid ground.” “Good think we didn’t land the ship on it,” Milya remarked. “But what is it?” Spectre insisted. “I think it’s a Force illusion,” Selu suddenly cut in. “What is that?” Milya inquired. “Some of the Jedi Masters used to be able to create images in people’s minds, make them see them things,” Selu answered. “I never had much talent for it.” “But there’s no Jedi Master around,” Spectre argued. “Is there?” Selu looked around, stretching out with his senses. The entire planetoid was suffused with the Force, its ambient aura far stronger than most other planets he had visited. “Not that I can sense,” he said doubtfully. “If there was a Jedi Master, why would he or she try to lead us to fall down a crevice to our deaths?” Milya pointed out. “The Jedi are not the only ones who can use the Force,” Selu replied evasively. “Whatever the case, this illusion was left here for a reason.” “What reason?” Cassi inquired. “The Force is very strong down here,” Selu told her. “I’m not sure why.” “But there’s nothing here,” Cassi replied. “No, there’s something here all right,” Sarth countered, consulting his handheld scanner. “Why not?” she replied. “There is a denser atmosphere down here, of a slightly different composition. If this shaft had been here for even a few days, the atmospheric gases would have equalized with the atmosphere and the composition would be a lot more similar to the surface atmosphere. The only explanation is that this chamber leads somewhere,” Sarth explained. “I think you’re right,” said Selu. “Perhaps it’s hidden as a test, or a safeguard.” “And you can find it?” Spectre asked. Selu shrugged. “Probably,” he said. “But if our cords will get us back up to the surface, then there’s no reason to even look.” “Maybe it leads to an easier way out,” Milya suggested. “Might as well try.” “All right,” Selu answered doubtfully. Selu closed his eyes and reluctantly let the Force flow through him, blocking out his own senses. In its amplified state, the rush of energy was sharper, more vibrant than he usually felt, and he marveled at the pure power running through him. His mind focused the Force into something resembling a mental glow rod as he searched the chamber for something hidden. Relying on his instincts, he let his legs carry him where they would, unconscious of the movement as the Force guided him. He imagined himself as a leaf, floating on a current of the Force, to be taken in its flow wherever it willed, and was surprised at what he found. Milya had been correct; there was something hidden here, a carefully placed illusion concealing another passage from their eyes. What they had thought was just a large nook at the bottom of the chasm was actually the mouth of a tunnel. “What’s he doing?” Cassi asked. “I don’t know, but he’s about to walk into that rock wall. If he does, I might have to laugh at him,” Milya said. Then Selu, slowly taking one step at a time with his eyes still closed, reached the wall and stepped into it. First his leg, then his whole body disappeared into the solid wall. Milya and Sarth gasped in surprise while Spectre just stood there impassively, though he was as stunned as they were. “It’s all right,” Selu told them as he re-emerged from the wall. “It’s a Force illusion. There’s another passage beyond it.” “Is it stable?” Sarth inquired. “Seems to be,” Selu answered. “Rock walls, just like this cavern, but more horizontal so you can walk instead of climb. But it leads downward.” “Then maybe we should head back to the ship,” Spectre suggested. “There’s nothing we want down here.” “Agreed,” Selu said. “Wherever that goes, it’s not back up to the ship.” “Don’t you feel that?” Milya asked. “That sensation that draws you farther into this place, like an invitation?” “Yes,” Selu admitted. “I’m not sure what caused it, but it seems to be Force-related. And I don’t like it.” He turned around to gaze at the wall, regarding for several minutes, then pivoted back to face his companions. “I’m not a Jedi anymore, and this kind of thing is something better fit for someone who is. We’re out here alone with a damaged ship—that’s plenty to worry about without adding risky cave exploration. Let’s head back to the ship.” Just as he spoke, there was a rumble from above. All five crewmembers steadied themselves as the ground and walls shook. Selu looked upward and saw that the mouth of chasm was suddenly darkened. He shone his glowlamps in that direction and realized with horror that a deluge of boulders and rocks were plunging down towards them. “Into the tunnel!” Selu ordered the others. “Now!” He threw his hands upward, focusing the Force through them to telekinetically slow the avalanche. There was no way to fully stave off their lethal descent—their combined momentum certainly outweighed his telekinetic abilities. The rocks tumbled and bounced down the chasm walls ominously, blotting out of the chasm’s mouth. Selu waited until Milya was safely inside the mouth of the tunnel before releasing his telekinesis and diving into the tunnel. Behind him, the deluge of stone crashed into the chasm’s floor with a cacophonous roar. A thick cloud of dust erupted from the pile as rocks continued to rain down for several seconds. Finally, after several seconds, the downpour ceased. Selu looked back and his heart sank with dismay. What had once been a chasm was now completely filled with scree, piled higher than the mouth of the tunnel. Even worse, some of the stones were twice the size of a human—and thus wouldn’t fit through the tunnel, even assuming that they could use it as a drain. There was just enough room between the rock pile and the second illusion for them to fit—but just barely. “Kriff,” Selu swore. “What was that?” Cassi asked. “Rockslide, apparently,” Sarth said, shining his glowlamp on the formidable stone barrier that had cut them off from the ship. “I didn’t think that planetoids could be tectonically active,” Spectre remarked. “There’s nothing active inside them to shift the rock, and there’s no wind or water on the surface.” “Except a freighter landing on the surface and possibly shifting that slag pile just enough to bury us,” Milya remarked. “Enough,” Selu said, curtailing the discussion. “We can talk geology when we get out of here.” “What do we do?” Sarth replied. Selu shook his head. “We either try or dig our way out, hoping that the chasm isn’t completely blocked, or we follow the tunnel.” Sarth examined the rock barrier. “It’s hard to tell how high it is,” he said doubtfully. “And some of these rocks are quite large. We might be able to blast them into smaller pieces and drain the stones into the tunnel.” “Those are my thoughts,” Selu replied. “Let’s get to it.” “What about the tunnel?” Milya asked. “Cutting through the rocks could take hours—we don’t have that much air.” “And a tunnel that leads downward is going to do better?” Selu answered acidly. “Have you considered the possibility that this place is trying to lead us into the tunnel?” Milya asked him. Selu scowled. “Don’t be ridiculous.” She laid a hand on his arm. “I can’t touch the Force, and I can still feel this place calling to me,” she said. “I can’t imagine what it’s like for you. Is it possible we’re being drawn deeper on purpose?” Selu knew she spoke truly. He could almost hear voices whispering to him, urging him deeper into this strange place. The Force seemed to be guiding him to explore further, to venture deeper into the tunnel. It took all of his willpower to resist its call, yet he did. He had already seen what terrible destruction his misuse of power could cause—and for that reason, he knew he was no longer fit to bear it. That was why he avoided using the Force more than he had to. That was why he no longer carried his lightsaber. The safe way out was for them to dig through the rocks and climb up to the surface. “All the more reason to dig our way out,” Selu responded thickly. “Listen to me, Selu,” Milya said urgently. “Maybe the tunnel does lead somewhere.” “’Maybe’ doesn’t cut it,” Selu replied. “We only have so much air and some of us have family we’d like to see again—so this isn’t a good time for spelunking.” “How dare you bring that up” Milya snarled, clearly hurt and angry by his reference to her lost parents. “At least I can move on past a loss instead of letting it rot me from the inside.” “That’s enough, Milya,” Selu cut her off sharply, turning to the others. “What about the rest of you? Anyone else have an objection to digging our way out of here?” There was a hesitant silence, as none of them wanted to further provoke their captain, or elevate tensions between Selu and Milya further. Finally, Cassi mustered up the courage to ask a simple question. “What does the Force tell you?” Selu bit back a heated reply before it could escape his lips. Why did it always have to be about the kriffing Force? “There’s an allure here,” he admitted. “Nothing more specific. Nothing evil.” Sarth took him aside, setting his comlink so he had a direct private line with Selu. “Selu, you relied on the Force to get us to this planet,” Sarth pointed out. “It led us here. What are the odds of that? And then the odds of us landing right next to the concealed chasm, stumbling into it by accident, and then having our entrance path cut off by a chance rockslide? A million to one? A billion to one? I’m not big on mystical stuff, but those are remarkably unlikely coincidences to happen in such a short a window. Maybe we’re being led a little farther, and you just need to accept that.” Selu sighed. “Are each of you going to have this conversation with me in turn until I fold?” he asked. “I don’t know,” Sarth answered. “But I do feel that . . . tugging that Milya described as well. I think we should at least look down the tunnel, a little.” Selu thought the matter over. His brother and crewmates were telling him the very thing he had been trying to deny ever since falling into the chasm—that there was something here, and they were meant to find it. Reluctantly, he acquiesced. “All right,” he said. “We’ll check it out. Just for a bit.” “There’s something else you need to do first,” Sarth told him, jerking his head towards Milya indicatively. Her back was turned and she was clearly stewing in her own juices. Selu grimaced, but he knew his brother was right. “Yeah,” he admitted. “There is.” He approached Milya, setting his comlink so only she could hear him. “Milya,” he said. She half-turned. “Yes?” she asked guardedly, not sure if he was about to chastise her further. “I was wrong earlier,” Selu told her. “I took a cheap shot.” She scowled at him. “The hell you did,” she started, but Selu interrupted her. “And I’m sorry,” Selu finished. Milya gave him a hard evaluative stare for several seconds, then she finally broke eye contact, shaking her head ruefully. “You weren’t the only one who dished out the low blows,” she said. “I pushed you too hard.” Selu offered her his hand and she shook it. “We were both stubborn,” he remarked. “But I want you to know that I’m grateful for you.” She gave him a slight smile. “Me too.” “Sarth talked me into at least checking out the tunnel for a bit,” he told her. Her smile widened. “It’s worth a shot,” she said agreeably. “Though you might want these.” She produced his lightsaber and shorter-blades shoto from a pouch on her enviro-suit. Selu shook his head, but, after deciding that starting another argument after just resolving one a minute earlier wasn’t prudent, accepted the weapons. “Just for safe-keeping,” he replied. Selu reset his comlink back so the entire group could hear him. “Well, seems like everyone’s curious, so let’s get this over with,” he said. “Who wants to come first? It could be dangerous.” “I’ll go,” said Milya, stepping forward. Selu took her gloved hand in his and led her forward into the wall. Milya saw the wall rush towards her as she stepped towards it, then it rippled and her vision was distorted as she walked into and through the rock. “Oooh—,” she said, then was amazed to find herself in another passage that gently sloped downward. This one was not just rough-hewn rock, though. While the walls were the same dark rock that had lined the shaft they had descended, the floor grew increasingly covered with a slippery-smooth grey stone that had obviously been artificially placed here. As she stood there marveling, Selu released her hand and returned to conduct the others across. To Milya, it seemed that there was no barrier separating her from them, but she knew they couldn’t see her. One by one, Selu brought Cassi, Sarth, and Spectre through the Force illusion until all five of them were beyond it. “That’s strange,” Spectre noted. “From this side, there doesn’t even appear to be a barrier.” “I know,” said Selu. “And that confirms part of what I suspected—this place is artificial. That illusion couldn’t be a natural phenomenon. When we passed through it, I sensed that it had been placed there by its creator.” “You know what else,” said Cassi. “I think there’s breathable air here.” “She’s right,” said Spectre, looking at the readouts on his suit. “I’m reading seventy percent nitrogen, twenty-eight percent oxygen, two percent carbon dioxide atmospheric concentration.” “That wall isn’t just a hidden door,” said Selu. “It’s an airlock.” “That will at least save our air supply in case digging is our way out of here,” Sarth remarked. “One potential cause of death eliminated, three hundred and eight to go,” Selu muttered to himself, but if any of the others heard him, they didn’t reply. They all took off their helmets gratefully, conserving their air supply in case they might need it later, and found that the air was quite breathable, though it smelled a bit musty. At the very least, they had air and enough emergency supplies on them to last a couple days down here. “I wonder where the passage leads,” Sarth said. “Let’s find out,” said Milya, stepping forward. As she stepped forward onto the slick gray stone, though, she lost her balance and slid forward down the smooth slope. Spectre darted forward to catch her, but he, too, had his feet slip out from under him and the two went flying down the passageway, sliding along the nearly frictionless surface, despite all their attempts to stop. “Blast,” said Selu, jumping after them, though he slid on his feet like a skater on ice. Sarth and Cassi followed but, looking over his shoulder, Selu saw that they had also lost their footing and were now sliding along. He was also having difficulty standing upright, but had managed to keep his—suddenly, his feet flew out from under him in his moment of distraction, and he found himself sliding down the steep passageway in the same fashion as his companions. Ruefully, Selu considered that his latest exercise in humility was the price to pay for letting his Jedi skills lapse. As he wound his way down through the dark and winding tunnel, the only sounds the scrape of his envirosuit against whatever material on which he was riding, Selu could see little but the glistening of the rock against his headlamps and, ahead of him, Milya and Spectre, who had stopped attempting to arrest their motion and were now sliding freely also. The smooth, shiny rock had little friction and few bumps or irregularities in its surface. Combined with the steepening slope of the winding tunnel, had led to a rather high velocity for the travelers. Unfortunately, there would be little warning or opportunity for them to halt if a danger presented itself. That thought concerned Selu, as there was a distinct possibility that whoever created the Force illusion had not relied upon it as the only defense to whatever was down here. However, this time Selu’s fear was unfounded. After what seemed like an eternity, the passage widened and light could be seen coming from what looked a mouth of the tunnel. As they slid down the final few meters of the passage, a sudden drop deposited them at the exit of the tunnel in a heap on the ground of a much wider chamber, emerging onto the floor of a huge crater. Thankfully, the rock they found beneath them as they landed, though different from the slick stone they had been sliding on, was not jagged and their suits cushioned most of the impact. Selu rose quickly, on guard for a trap. His body protested—he was sore and bruised after the hasty fall through the chasm, and still hadn’t fully recovered from the beating a day ago. Every movement was painful, but for the others’ sake, he didn’t let it show. “Is anyone hurt?” he asked. “No, we’re fine,” said Cassi distractedly, looking past Selu and pointing. “Look at that, though!” Selu turned and looked in the direction she indicated and was surprised to see a massive stone tower carved out of the rock about two kilometers away, at least a hundred meters around, rising to jut at least a half a kilometer in the sky, and obviously not a natural formation. From where they were standing, they could see a paved path leading down to the edge of a large expanse. They were at the edge of a massive stone bowl that resembled the crater that the Hawk-bat had been landed in, except not quite as large, but much deeper, judging by the height of the walls. It was composed of the same black, craggy volcanic rock as the rest of the planetoid, but they glowed with that same unnatural glow as the crevice’s rim, a mixture of blues, greens, and purples. To Selu, it seemed like the Force was singing, the very stone infused with its presence. It was like walking into a concert hall to hear a full orchestra playing a symphony; the feeling wasn’t dark or ominous in the least bit. “I can see the sky,” noted Sarth, looking up to see the magnificent starfield of the nebula far overhead. “What?” said Milya. “But we should have seen this formation from the ship as we came in to land.” “Remember the Force illusions,” Selu reminded them. “I think this chamber is enclosed by another one, because we still have air in here.” “That’s true,” Spectre noted. “Is this tower what you have been sensing, Selu?” Selu breathed deeply. “Yes,” he said. “This is it. We can stop at any time.” “Do you sense danger?” Milya asked. “No,” Selu admitted. “It almost feels like an invitation.” “Let’s at least go a little further,” Cassi said. “If nothing else, maybe we can climb up the crater walls to reach the ship instead of digging through tons of rock.” Selu scowled. Whatever the allure of this place was, it had certainly seized his companions, who weren’t even Force-sensitive. He didn’t like that it was possible that this place had an effect similar to a Jedi mind trick on them, luring them closer imperceptibly. He didn’t like that just being closer to it made him fall back on his Jedi abilities more. Most of all, he didn’t like being here, outside of the comfortable environs of his ship, doing what normal people did. However, the rest of the crew seemed determined to at least reach the temple, so Selu sighed and acquiesced. With that, they set out across the expanse between them and the tower. However, while the walls of the crater were jagged black rock, they were walking on paved material that Sarth could have sworn was permacrete. Dotting the landscape were what appeared to be sculptures. Some of them Cassi thought resembled birds or people, but many were abstract, indefinable shapes of stone rising from the ground. As they passed close by some of the sculptures, they noted the intricate details and tiny sigils carved into the stone. Some of them had crystals set in certain parts of the carving, but even if Selu hadn’t warned them not to touch anything, none of the crew would have done so anyway. It would have been like desecrating a memorial or museum. The area was deserted, with no trace of recent habitation, but as they drew nearer to the tower, the power of the Force steadily increased until Selu felt like he was walking into the heart of the Force itself. Finally, they reached the base of the tower. There was a massive stone doorway at its base that towered seven or eight meters above them and was at least four meters wide, the frame covered with the same style of ornate carvings as some of the sculptures had contained. The two stone doors were featureless, aside from a single glowing crystal set about head height on each door. Cassi thought she saw an avian motif in the carvings on the doorway, but she couldn’t be sure. As they approached, they could see that the tower rose for hundreds of meters above them. This close, it seemed more foreboding and threatening than it had before, the sheer size of it detracting from the elegance of its design. “Who could have built such a thing?” asked Cassi. “Good question,” Selu replied, easing himself forward gingerly. Then, as they were about five meters away from the doorway, one of the massive doors creaked and swung open with a sighing groan, revealing a glowing blue interior. Every weapon they had was instantly out and pointed in that direction. Spectre’s was the first up, his blaster pistol trained on the doorway. Cassi and Sarth had smaller blaster pistols in hand that they had acquired on their travels, while Milya had her vibroblade unsheathed and gripped firmly in front of her in a fraction of a second. Selu’s lightsaber and shoto flew to his hands, but he kept them extinguished for the moment. “Please tell me that you did that without telling us, Selu,” Milya said quietly. “Okay. If it makes you feel better, that was me using telekinesis without telling you,” Selu answered. “Do you feel better now?” “Was it?” Sarth asked. “No,” admitted Selu. “I didn’t think so,” Milya replied. Suddenly, a bluish apparition materialized in front of them, a tall human with long graying brown hair tied behind his head, and clad in ancient-looking Jedi robes from head to foot. Selu jumped back in surprise. Then, another apparition appeared, this one a woman in a less-flowing jumpsuit, but still styled after Jedi robes. One after another, ghostly translucent spirits appeared in front of them, including a Cathar, a Zabrak, a Miraluka, an Echani, and five more humans, for a total of eleven spirits standing around them, quiet as a grave. Some of them wore Jedi robes of various colors and cuts, while others wore more conventional tunics and pants. None of them seemed to bear any weapons, but they all resonated within the Force. “What in space . . .?” Sarth muttered. The Hawk-bat crew except for Selu all took a collective step back as the apparitions emerged. The spirits regarded him gravely, and Selu was unsure of what to do. Such phenomena had been recorded in the Jedi archives and in the holocrons that Selu had brought with him from the wreck of the Jedi Temple, but he had never personally experienced one of them, nor were they frequently talked about often by Jedi. They were often dismissed as an ancient occurrence that had been lost to modern Jedi, and Selu had never researched the topic. “Selu, what’s going on?” Cassi asked. “I think . . .” he said slowly, “these are Force ghosts, spirits of ancient Jedi who lingered on after death.” “Ghosts?” Sarth exclaimed skeptically. “You’re joking.” “I wish I was,” Selu replied quickly. Finally, the first apparition spoke. “Welcome, young Jedi,” he said. “We have been waiting for you.” Selu shook his head. “I am no Jedi.” “Nonsense!” spoke up another apparition, an elderly-looking man wearing Jedi robes and with dark brown skin and scarcely any hair on his head. “Even a dead man can tell when he’s looking at a Jedi. I can sense it within you.” “That was a long time ago,” Selu countered. “I once felt the same way,” the old man said. “I was wrong.” “Who are you?” Selu asked them. “We are Jedi like yourself,” replied the first speaker, then he continued after a pause. “My name is Revan.” “Revan?!” Selu gasped in surprise. “Uh . . . should that mean something?” Milya asked. Selu half-turned to address her. “Revan was one of the greatest Jedi three thousand years ago,” Selu replied. “He stopped the Mandalorian invasion, but fell to the dark side, only to be redeemed and defeat the Sith Lord Malak in the Jedi Civil War. The records say he also helped fight against the Sith Emperor three hundred years later after being taken prisoner.” “I’m glad history has been kind to my name,” Revan answered drily. “Perhaps I should also introduce my companions.” One by one, Revan pointed them out, each heroes of an era long past, Jedi Knights and Masters, champions of the Force in their time. Bastila Shan, the Jedi who had turned Revan back from the dark side and had nearly single-handedly stemmed the tide of the Jedi Civil War, was the woman in the jumpsuit. The old dark-skinned Jedi was Jolee Bindo, one of Revan’s companions. The Cathar was Juhani, a famed Jedi warrior, and one whose teachings Selu had studied when learning how to camouflage himself with the Force as a Padawan. Meetra Surik, the exiled Jedi who had fought in the Mandalorian Wars and later defeated a trio of Sith and resurrected the order was there, as was Master Mical, a Jedi Council member three millennia earlier. Rounding out the group of spirits was the Echani Jedi, Brianna, the Miraluka Visas Marr, the Zabrak Jedi Bao-Dur, and the humans Mira and Atton Rand. Each one of them had been a luminary of the Jedi many years ago. Selu was shocked, first that he was seeing spirits at all, but particularly these spirits. They were but memories, legendary figures he had learned of when he was a Jedi Padawan. “How is this even possible?” Sarth asked Selu. “The Force does many strange things,” he answered glibly. “And you’re familiar with these people?” Spectre inquired. “These are ancient Jedi Masters,” Selu explained. “I learned about many of them when I was younger. Should be safe enough for the moment.” “Maybe,” said Milya cautiously, “But I don’t like this ‘visited by spirits’ thing.” “What does ‘safe enough’ mean?” Spectre added. “It means,” Selu added in a hushed voice. “That we’re seeing the lingering ghosts of ancient Jedi, and they weren’t hanging around for the fun of it.” The apparition of Revan floated forward. “You must have many questions, and we have yet to meet all of you,” he said. “Come in, and we will explain.” Selu looked at the yawning door looming ahead of them, then back at his companions. “Well?” he asked sarcastically. “Do you still want to keep going now that you’ve been visited by the dead? Or can we do the sensible thing and head back to the ship?” “The Force fated this day, young Jedi,” Revan encouraged him. “You were destined for this.” Selu ignored him. “We can leave any time,” he said to his companions, whispering after. “As long as they can’t interfere.” “Can they?” Spectre asked in the same hushed voice. Selu shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know,” he said. “It’s possible they were the ones who drew us here and made sure we’d end up at this temple.” “Let’s at least hear them out,” Cassi spoke up suddenly. The others gaped at her in surprise. “You said they were Jedi Masters—and legends at that. What harm could there be in at least listening to them?” Selu regarded her seriously. “They’re dead people, Cassi,” he said. “You’re seeing ghosts, and somehow you’re okay with that?” “I’m surprised you’re not,” she replied. “You said you’ve heard of such things before, and that these were people you studied in school, heroes of old. Don’t you want to hear what they have to say?” “Be very careful when answering that,” he said. He looked at the others, but though they seemed unsettled by the thought of apparitions, they didn’t look as unnerved as he felt. “Milya, Sarth, Spectre . . . you can’t seriously tell me you’re not ready to leave now, right?” Selu asked. “Unless you want to go into the haunted tower.” “Is it safe?” Spectre asked. Selu scowled. “Considering that we have likely been lured hundreds of meters away from our ship through a steep chasm by the spirits of dead Jedi, I’m going to go with no,” Selu replied acerbically. “Maybe they could help,” Milya suggested. “Maybe that’s why we were drawn here.” Selu’s scowl deepened. “I highly doubt the spirits of dead Jedi lingered here to help us find our way back to the ship,” he said. “Let’s go.” “Fine,” Milya said. “We’ll leave if you can look me in the eyes and tell me honestly that you’re not at all interested in what they have to say and you can turn your back on the opportunity to find out why they’re here after all those years.” That argument defeated Selu. He started to utter those words, but faltered halfway through. Deep inside, he did want to know, and he was interested—but simultaneously, he was terrified of what he might find. He sighed, turned around and walked through the cavernous door of the tower. His companions followed.
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