Star Wars: Rebirth

Chapter 1 – The Hermit

Devin sat at the bar, his mouth dry and face dirty from his boring construction job. He hated the job, but put up with it because he hated it a bit less than anything else he could be doing to earn some credits. And anyway, it gave him an appreciation for a nice cold Corellian ale after a hard day's work. The satisfying plonk of the tall, frosty glass landing on the bar mat at The Coruscanti Arms brought a smile to his face, and he drank thirstily, gulping down half the glass in one hit.

"That'll be 4 creds, Dev." The barman said, and Devin placed a credchip in the rotund man's fat hand.

It was times like these that Devin often wondered whether it was worth having dreams at all, or whether this was all that life had to offer. He'd heard rumours of a long-forgotten race of people who, thousands of years ago, did amazing things to help the people of the galaxy, both on the warfields and in normal everyday life. Devin did what he could to assist anyone who he felt worthy, but he was one man, and Coruscant was a very big place. Never mind the rest of the galaxy. He finished his ale and pondered for a moment about the way the galaxy might have been in the times of those great people, whose name he had never found out.

He decided to have one more ale before heading home for the day, and tossed the barman – whose name he knew was Ternaugh – another credchip.

"Thanks Tern, after this I'm off for the day."

"C'mon buddy," Ternaugh pleaded half-heartedly in his thick, lower Coruscanti accent, "the kegs are still full and the day is still bright. Plus, you haven't met my young friend here." Ternaugh explained, pointing to a pretty girl dressed in what appeared to be not much more than a bikini, about five years older than himself who was sitting a few barstools away from him, chatting to a much older man. She turned around and looked at Devin briefly, before returning to her flirting with the older man, seemingly uninterested in Devin or Ternaugh.

"No thanks, Tern," Devin smiled, knowing full-well that the jolly, fat barman had no idea who the girl was, "I'm pretty tired, so I think I'll just relax at home tonight."

"Have it your way, Dev," Ternaugh laughed, "but you're missing out…"

Devin casually saluted Ternaugh as he turned and walked out the cantina door, then lazily walked down the street towards his apartment.

As he walked down a nearby alley, he thought to himself about that ancient and forgotten race. I wonder what they called themselves. Suddenly, a missile of some description –a bottle, he presumed – came flying straight at him. With casual ease, he waved his left hand as if to bat the missile away, but never touched it. The missile was sent flying into the alley wall and smashed into a thousand pieces, making a hell of a noise.

"Very impressive," came a voice close by, with a mild Sulonian accent, "not bad at all, kid."

"Where are you?" Devin demanded. "You got a problem?"

"No, but you do," the voice replied.

"My only problem, pal, is that some idiot threw a damn bottle at my face. Now come out here and face me like a man."
"My, my," the voice said in a calm, mocking tone. "You're going to have to kerb that anger though. That's not going to help you at all."

Devin grunted and spat in the direction of the voice before continuing his journey home. He only got about 5 more paces before a hand grabbed his left ankle from behind a dumpster, tripping him. Devin pushed instinctively at the ground with his hands, forcing a wave of energy downwards and sending himself back upright again without so much as blinking.

"You're better than I thought." The voice came again, this time it belonged to what looked to be a typical, alcoholic hermit. The man stood up and brushed himself off. He was wearing a dirty, old brown robe with a large hood drawn over his brow-line so his eyes were barely visible. A long, white beard covered the lower half of his face, but betrayed a smug smirk.

"What's your problem, old man? I'm trying to get home, you're throwing stuff at me and tripping me over. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were looking to get your head kicked in," Devin said angrily.

"But you do know better, don't you," the hermit said, the smirk still showing from beneath his white beard.

"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You think I didn't see what you did, Devin?" The hermit's smirk grew wider, into a broad, toothy smile.

"I never told you what my name was." Devin felt a little concerned now, but somehow, the hermit radiated comfort, like he wanted Devin to feel at ease. "Who are you, anyway?"

The hermit's grin faded quickly into a more sombre expression.
"I should probably explain myself. Let's go back to your apartment and I'll tell you everything."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Devin raised his hands and took a step backwards, "what makes you think you can just invite yourself to my apartment?"

"Because if you don't invite me, I'm going to come in anyway," the hermit explained, the toothy grin returning.

Devin sighed defeat, but somehow he felt like he could trust the guy. He didn't quite understand why he felt that way. There was just something about this hermit.

"Come on then, let's go. It's not far." Devin motioned for the hermit to follow. "And bring your drink. You're not getting any of mine."

The hermit bent down and grabbed a full bottle of ale, then followed Devin down the alley.


"Have a seat," Devin went straight to the fridge and grabbed himself another ale. "You need a glass?"
"Corellian ale always tastes better in a glass. Just make sure it's clean." The hermit replied.

"A clean glass? You're pretty picky for a bum, you know that? And what makes you think I'd give you a dirty one anyway?"
"I just like my ale Corellian and un-poisoned," the hermit replied.

"Fair enough, I suppose," Devin said as he returned with the glass and his ale. "So what's your name, anyway?"

"The name's Kyle. Pleased to finally meet you properly. Manners are so rare these days," Kyle the hermit said with a grin.

"You can say that again. The whole galaxy's like that now." Devin took a swig of ale. "So how come you know my name? You never told me."
"I know a lot about you, Devin. I know you better than you know yourself, you might say."
"I might not say," Devin said with a raised eyebrow. "I just met you. Care to explain yourself?"

"Sure thing," Kyle said, shifting himself on Devin's couch, into a comfier position. "You used the Force today."

"The Force?" Devin asked, raising the other eyebrow.

"Yep, you heard me." Kyle smiled at Devin, seemingly enjoying the confusion he was causing him. "See that ale you're holding?" and with that, the ale bottle floated out of Devin's hands and into Kyle's, the hermit then gulping down all of the contents.

"You can do that too?" Devin said, astonished. Too astonished to notice that his ale was now gone. "I thought I was the only one."

Kyle smiled once more. "There's a lot you don't know. Like the name of that long-forgotten race of people you keep daydreaming about."
"How do you…" He was starting to pick up a pattern, here. He stopped speaking and just listened.

"Well, they weren't a race, for starters. It was more of a religious group than a race. People of all species could be a part of it." Kyle floated the empty ale bottle back over the Devin, then took a swig of his own ale from the glass Devin brought him. He continued.

"The Force is the power you used earlier, the one I've been using too. It's an energy; the essence of all life. The power behind the universe, if you will."

For the longest time, Devin had been able to use this 'power' of his to do extraordinary things. But he kept it quiet, as people found it strange and threatening. He'd long suspected that it was a kind of 'life force' that everybody had, but not everyone could use. Now it had a name: The Force.

"That's not too far from the truth, you know," Kyle said, seemingly reading Devin's thoughts. "There's no limit to the kind of strange and wonderful things you can do with the Force. For thousands of years – tens of thousands – people such as myself trained in the use of the Force, trying to uncover its secrets, testing our limits, and helping the people of the galaxy wherever we could. But just like anything in life, there are two sides to the coin."

Kyle's face became serious now.

"So that's why you warned me not to get angry earlier," Devin surmised. Kyle nodded his agreement as he gulped down some more ale.

"Using the Force with passion is what we used to call the 'Dark Side' of the Force. Using it to hurt people, to gain power over others."

"So the good Force users were using the 'Light Side' of the Force?" Devin asked.

"That's right, more or less. There was a lot of debate over the course of history as to what constituted 'light' and 'dark'. I was always of the theory that the Force was not inherently good or evil, it was how it was used that made the user himself light or dark. But other people have had other theories over the millennia. Who knows whether they were right or wrong about it. The Jedi are long gone now."
"The Jedi?" Devin asked, but realised as he spoke that this was the name of that fantastic group of light side Force users.

"Now you're starting to get it." Kyle smiled toothily again, reading Devin's mind and letting the young man answer his own question. "But I can't stick around. I've probably been here too long already." Kyle got up out of the chair and made his way to the door.
"Wait!" Devin yelled, "Can't you stay and, I dunno, teach me? I wanna learn as much as I can about this. I've had this ability my whole life, and now it's just starting to make some sense."

"Sorry, kid," Kyle turned to face Devin. "Like I said, I've probably been here too long already. If you really wanna learn more, there's a cave near the southern magnetic pole of a planet called Ilum. Look for a cube about four inches wide. You'll know what to do with it. Tell 'em Master Katarn sent you."

"Wait! That's all you have to say?" Devin shouted. "What's Ilum? I've never heard of it! How do I get there?!"

"Sorry kid…thanks for the ale, you have good taste…" and with that, Kyle the hermit faded into nothingness. Like he'd never even been there at all.

What the hell just happened?

Devin decided against his better judgment that this was exactly the type of sign he'd been waiting for his whole life. He didn't really care how suddenly it had happened or how crazy the whole thing seemed.

Devin decided the best thing he could do with his time right now was to head to the Coruscant Planetary Library. It was only a short speeder trip from his apartment, and took only a few minutes to get there. Plus he just had to find out where and what this planet Ilum was. He parked his small black speeder in the library's undercover parking area and walked in.

He went straight to the nearest console and opened up the navigation information program. He searched for 'Ilum', but got no results. Frustrated, he searched in the library's main database for anything to do with Ilum at all, but still got no results. Maybe I'm just going mad, he thought. Maybe all this daydreaming is starting to get to my brain.

"Excuse me, young man," came the friendly voice of an old librarian lady from over his left shoulder, "but do you need some assistance?"

"Yes, actually," Devin replied. "I'm looking for the location of a planet called Ilum."

"Ilum…" the old lady drifted off into her thoughts for a moment, "never heard of it," she finished.

"Damn. I wonder if it even exists," Devin said disappointedly.

"Well, where have you tried searching?" the old lady asked politely.

"I checked the navigation program and the library's main database, but there weren't any results."

"Did you include the Unknown Regions in your nav search?" the old lady asked, and with that she changed the search parameters to include planets located within the Unknown Regions of the galaxy, where the Outer Rim would be if it stretched all the way to the north-western-most part of the galaxy.

"There's your planet Ilum," the old lady said with a satisfied smile, as Ilum appeared as a bluish-white planet on the console's monitor.

"Thanks, ma'am." Devin said as the old lady waddled off to her next job.

"Ilum," Devin started reading, "an ice planet on the fringes of known space, said to be the only known planet in the galaxy that still naturally produces Adegan crystals. Ilum has been abandoned for more than two thousand years, shortly after the Republic deemed it too unsafe for exploration or colonisation. Even the Republic Army have been banned from its surface."

So how am I supposed to get there? Thanks for nothing, Kyle.

He was about to give up when he brought up the galaxy map and zoomed in on Ilum's location, and found that there was a long disused shipping route that led right to it. He traced the hyperspace route to the beginning, at Ord Mantell, and found that he could join it at Bilbringi. He smiled to himself, then checked the database once more to see if there was anything about that shipping lane, such as Republic monitoring of any sort. When he found no references to either Ilum nor the shipping lane, he decided to go to back to his apartment and pack. I'll pack for Corellian winter, I should be fine, he thought. But first I gotta erase all my searches. I don't want anyone finding out I'm going to a banned planet.

Back at his apartment, he packed some essentials and as much cold weather clothing as he could find, as well as some digging and climbing equipment, since he was going to look for a cave. He also packed his trusty overpowered blaster pistol. It was based on an archaic design, a DL-44 from centuries past. But thanks to new technology, an old design like that could house some powerful internals. And thanks to the antique look, no one suspected it actually even worked, which came in very handy sometimes. He quickly made a call to his boss at the construction site and said he'd had a family emergency, and he had to go back to Dantooine for a few weeks. That should be enough time to get to Ilum and back, surely. It didn't really matter that he had no family, on Dantooine or anywhere else. His boss didn't know that, and he probably wouldn't care even if he did. Come to think of it, I don't care either. I hate my job. He jumped back in his little speeder and made his way down to the Corellian Sector spaceport.


"Hey Dev, how's it goin'? I got that crank-driven charger fitted to your sublight drives now. Damn that's a fast ol' pile-o-crap. Gives you a swift ol' kick in the back, even with the compensator on full!"

"Thanks heaps, Creo," Devin replied. "I'm actually about to take her for a trip, so great timing."

"You're gonna have a blast gettin' there, that's for sure. I'd take 'er for a run through some asteroid field for some fun, but that's just me I s'pose," Creo laughed.

Devin liked Creo. He was an old Corellian freighter mechanic, about 60 years old, but had a passion for making things really fast, as all Corellian freighter mechanics did. But especially things that weren't meant to go fast, like Devin's starfighter relic. It, like his blaster pistol, was based on an ancient design, and wasn't even meant to work. It was given to him by an old friend when he was just 15 years old, and was actually a working model of an ancient fighter called an X-Wing. Complete with underpowered sublight drives and moving s-foils, but no cannons and no hyperdrive. When he met Creo three years ago he started modifying it bit by bit, until now it was basically a full-blown starfighter, faster and more powerful than the Republic's own fighters. Creo was especially proud of it. "You could take out an entire Republic squadron with this thing," he liked to say. Every credit that Devin earned that didn't pay for food or rent was spent on that fighter, and he had the race trophies to prove it. Devin was a mad speed freak and quite proud of it, even if the Republic interstellar traffic laws sometimes got in the way a bit.

Devin thanked Creo once more, then got in the X-Wing and took off. As soon as he moved the throttle, he felt that new modification kick in hard.

Creo wasn't kidding, he thought to himself as the X-Wing lurched forward powerfully. As soon as he exited Coruscant's stratosphere, he punched it into full throttle and set off towards Bilbringi.


Devin landed the X-Wing as carefully as he could in the raging snowstorm, being buffeted by the powerful winds. As he landed, the fighter skidded on the icy surface of a frozen lake and his trusty navigation droid Rusty - an R20 unit based on the archaic and famous R2 series – squealed a frightened tune in response.

"Relax, it's fine. It's just a lake," he assured the droid. "Now you stay here with the ship. Take off if you see any trouble and just act as if I'm on board. Send me a message on my datapad to let me know."

The little droid uttered an irritated response to his order.

"Yeah I know you know the drill. But it never hurts to make sure, does it?"

Rusty admitted an affirming 'woo', so Devin jumped out of the fighter, using his force powers to land gingerly on the ice.

"I don't know how long I'll be, so just hang tight buddy."

Devin set off towards the exact south pole of Ilum, using a topographic readout he'd obtained from the library to guide him. When he couldn't find anything that resembled a hill close to the exact magnetic south pole, he stopped to think. I hope Kyle wasn't lying about this just to send me on a wild bantha chase. Then it hit him: Kyle said he was a Jedi, and that they were long gone now. He didn't understand how they could be long gone if Kyle was in the room with him, but he also didn't understand how he faded completely into thin air either. But if the Jedi really are long gone, maybe Kyle's information is very old. The poles may have shifted in that time. He'd pre-loaded Rusty's memory with as much information on Ilum as he could find, so perhaps the R20 droid had something that could help out. He pulled out his comlink.

"Rusty, do you have any information on Ilum's magnetic shift over time?"

Devin checked his datapad, waiting for a response from the droid.

OVER THE LAST 3000 YEARS THE MAGNETIC SOUTH POLE OF ILUM HAS MOVED 2 DEGREES NORTH AND 34 DEGREES, 48 MINUTES WEST.

"So where am I at the moment?" he asked the droid, now regretting not doing more research into this before leaving for the frozen wasteland that was Ilum.

YOU ARE CURRENTLY AT 4 SECONDS EAST OF THE MAGNETIC SOUTH POLE. LOOK TO YOUR LEFT.

Devin did as the droid suggested, and couldn't see anything. Confused, he raised the comlink to tell Rusty off for playing another joke on him when the wind suddenly died down momentarily. As the blinding snow slowed its movement, a small cavern appeared a few hundred metres away.

"That was lucky! I hope it's the right cave."

IT WAS NOT LUCK. I EDITED THE SHIP'S READOUT OF THE PLANET AS WE DESCENDED.

Devin shook his head, impressed with the droid and simultaneously upset with himself for such an obvious oversight. It's too damn cold, he told himself.

As he entered the cave, the bone-chilling cold eased up massively. Without the wind and snow cutting through layers of cold weather clothing, he was quite warm now. The cave itself was staggeringly beautiful. All around, he could see beautifully coloured crystal growths, shining in brilliant shades of green, blue, purple and yellow. Suddenly he stopped dead in his tracks; ahead of him was what appeared to be a temple of some sort. Kyle was telling the truth. There really is something here.

He made his way through a stone archway, beautifully carved with an intricate pattern all the way around. The archway was around twenty metres high and at least ten across, with huge statues the same height on either side. The statues depicted a pair of warriors holding a blade in both hands, in a guard position in front of them. They were extremely well preserved. Devin assumed that this place must have been lost for thousands of years, without any sentient contact the whole time. The temple gave him a strange feeling as he entered it – a kind of warm, happy, tranquil feeling. He suddenly felt very comfortable, like he'd been here before.

Ahead of him was another statue, significantly smaller than the others, and with its hands outstretched. As he approached it, Devin noticed the statue held two objects. One appeared to be a strange kind of sword hilt, the other was…

The cube!

He held the cube – which was carved with a stunning and ancient looking design, and felt warm to the touch - in his hands, and immediately he felt a surge of understanding overwhelm him. Without any prior knowledge of what this cube was or what to do with it, he closed his eyes and saw the cube in his mind's eye. Using his feelings alone, he willed the cube to grow warmer and brighter. Devin opened his eyes and discovered that the cube was exactly as he had pictured it in his mind. It glowed a soft, warm orange, and he could feel power emanating from it. He placed the cube back onto the statue's left hand and stood back. Suddenly, a hologram of a bearded man in robes appeared between it and him. He recognised it immediately.

"Welcome to Ilum," it said with a hoarse, friendly voice, "I see you found my holocron. I didn't think anyone would ever find it."

"Kyle?" Devin asked, totally confused, and yet feeling like he should understand more about this already.

"I see we've met already. I don't know how though, seeing as this holocron has been here for almost six thousand years. Care to explain?" Kyle's hologram asked. It appeared to have the same personality as the Kyle who disappeared in his apartment.

"How could this holocron have been here for six thousand years? You were in my apartment just the other day."

"Oh? I guess that Force Ghost stuff Luke taught me must have worked then."

"Force Ghost?"

The Kyle Hologram sighed, putting his hands on his hips and slumping his posture. "I'll start you off slow, kid. I'm not real. I'm a holographic interface recorded by Kyle Katarn for the purpose of being this holocron's gatekeeper. A holocron is an archive of Jedi knowledge, only accessible to people who can use the Force. This holocron was put here by Jedi Masters Kyle Katarn and Luke Skywalker near the end of their lives so that if the Jedi ever ceased to exist in the distant future, a Force-sensitive being of a generally light-sided persuasion could activate it easily and learn about the Jedi."

"You've been dead for how long now?" Devin asked, quite unable to believe that a dead man had been drinking his ale just the other day.

"Nearly six thousand years. If you saw me, I was a Force Ghost. I must have instructed you to come here in order to collect this holocron. Anyway, here's where it gets interesting: there's another one of these around. The Jedi decided to put two holocrons in secret locations. You've found one, but there's another one on a planet called Tython near the galactic core."

"Why didn't you just make one?"

"Because if this knowledge ever fell into the wrong hands, the results could be devastating to the entire universe. We decided to split the information into two halves: one containing knowledge of our combat techniques and weapons, the other containing information on our history and beliefs. The reason you were guided to this one first is because if you're Force-sensitive, you'll need to know how to defend yourself properly. Certain people will always fear the Jedi, and our history has been rocky at best. If you're looking for the other holocron, then you'll almost certainly run into trouble from dark side Force-users, bounty hunters and other types. Once you know how to protect yourself, you'll have no trouble finding the other holocron. But first, before I reveal anything else, I need you to pass a test."

"What kind of test?" Devin asked, not knowing quite what to expect.

"Don't worry, it's just a few questions to gauge whether you're suitable to find out anything more about the Jedi before allowing you to take off into the galaxy with possibly the most important antique in history," Kyle explained unreassuringly. "First of all, how old are you?"

"I'm twenty. What's that got to do with anything?"

"A lot, actually. Historically, Jedi were trained from a very young age so they could better absorb knowledge of the force without being too influenced by the corrupt ways of the rest of the galaxy. I don't believe it's the be all and end all of it though. I was about your age when I first learned about the Force, and Luke Skywalker, one of the greatest Jedi Masters of all time, was only a little younger when he learned. But I'm asking the questions, okay?"

Devin muttered an affirmation and let Kyle continue.

"Alright, so you're not too old. What do you think of politicians?"

"I think they have their place, but I don't like them."

"Why's that?"

"Most use their position for their own benefit, ignoring desperate issues if they stand to lose something, making life difficult for anyone who isn't rich, that sort of thing. Corruption and greed are just two words that both mean 'government' to me."

"Good answer," Kyle nodded. "Now, do you like fighting?"

"I like putting bad people in their place, but I never start a fight. I only finish them."

"So you like defending people, but you didn't answer my question."

Devin thought for a moment about how best to answer. He now knew the Jedi weren't fond of violence, but he didn't want to answer dishonestly. "I like fighting if it's going to stop someone from doing something stupid. But if there's nothing to be gained, then no, I don't like fighting."

"We'll have to work on that," Kyle said, stroking his beard. "Okay, last one. How would you go about making the galaxy a better place?"

Devin folded his arms, thinking long and hard about this last question. Anything he said could give off implications of aggression or ego, so he had to be careful. He desperately wanted to learn more about these Jedi and the Force, so he didn't want to answer in a way that displeased the gatekeeper. "At the moment there's a big stand-off between the Republic and the Chiss Ascendancy. That's the biggest problem with the galaxy at the moment, so I'd try and assist the people of the Republic in changing their opinion of the Chiss and being more understanding of them, and if I could I'd try and reel in the Republic a bit on their stance against them. The whole galaxy is on the verge of killing each other at the moment."

"Sounds a bit like every other conflict in the history of this place," Kyle shook his head. "Well, that was a superb answer. You'll make a great Jedi someday, and to ensure you do, I'm gonna give you access to all the information this holocron has to offer. Use it well. First thing's first though, you're gonna need to grab that hilt just there. Never let it out of your sight. And before you go, take as many of these crystals you see around you as you can carry. You'll need every last one of them, I promise you. I'll tell you more later. But right now you need to get going, so take the crystals, the hilt and this holocron and fly back home. And may the Force be with you, Devin Rokanh."

With that, the holographic image of Kyle Katarn faded and the holocron stopped glowing, returning to its previous state. Kyle was gone once more, vanished into thin air, back to the dead. Devin took the hilt and held it in his right hand, noticing immediately that it was weighty without being too heavy, very sturdy and very beautiful. It was a tubular silver and black design, metal with rubber hand grips in strips running up the length of it, ending in a slanted opening on one end with a thick pommel cap on the other. On one side there was a single black button recessed into the metalwork. He pushed the button, but nothing happened. Must be out of power if it's been here this long, he thought to himself, then put the hilt away into a pocket in his jacket.

After putting the cube into a pocket in his backpack, he pulled out a small vibroknife from his jacket and got to work cutting some crystals free of their formations. As many as I can carry, he reminded himself. He cut about twenty-five of them, an equal amount of different colours: five blue, five green, five yellow, five purple and five white, all ranging in hue from darker to lighter. As he cut the crystals from their base on the formations, he couldn't help but wonder what they were for. Maybe they're supposed to help a Jedi focus the force or something…I better just cut them and get out of here. I can ask Kyle about them later.

When he got back to the X-Wing, he found it encrusted in a thick layer of snow, and Rusty making quick, erratic beeping sounds and seemingly vibrating in the droid-slot.

"Okay, okay, we're leaving. I know it's cold, but we'll be on our way as soon as I heat up the systems a little. Just have some patience, this planet's no more fun for me than it is for you, you know."

Rusty beeped a short, stuttered reply, which Devin knew was a blunt retort.

"Hey, if you freeze, you shut down temporarily until you can be heated up and turned back on. If I freeze, I die here on this ice-ball never to be seen again. Now stop complaining and let's get moving."

Devin opened the canopy and leaped up, climbing in and flopping down into the pilot's seat. Unlike other X-wing fighters of the distant past, Devin's version had a rear-gunner's position as well as the pilot's. Historical records had initially mixed up the cockpit layout of the first X-Wing fighters with that of the Y-Wing, making Devin's working model horribly inaccurate. But he didn't mind, as it meant he could take another person with him on a flight if he chose to. And it was cheaper. Right now he was glad for that extra seat, as it was now occupied by the many crystals he had gathered in the cave.

He activated the engines, allowing them to heat up for a few moments, giving the snubfighter time to warm its other systems as well – including heating. Devin loaded the astrogation and asked Rusty to plot a course back to Coruscant via Bilbringi in order to avoid being noticed by any Republic military craft coming from a banned planet. The flight would take three days, so he settled in and let Rusty do the work. The warmth of the cockpit tired him, and he soon felt his eyelids become heavy, eventually shutting completely.