CORUSCANT – from Old Galactic COR, CORDIS (n), heart, and CANTUS (m), ring – a sector in the Core region of the galaxy OR the central star system of the sector OR Coruscant Secunda, the second planet of the system, the current seat of the Galactic Senate and the Jedi order.

Index Stellarum Inhabitatarum

The Jedi were an odd folk. Everywhere they went, they inspired hope, awe, and envy. Despite their best efforts, us ordinary people could never understand the world as it was seen through their eyes. The almost manic joy they talked about, whenever they emerged from the deepest trance, made one resent the fate that deprived them of ever experiencing the true reality unburdened by one's bodily limitations.

Saido Anehi

Growing Up During Clone Wars

II HERE AND NOW

OBI-WAN Kenobi, a Padawan of the Jedi Order, the youngest of Master Yoda's line, closed his eyes and exhaled.

The cool hard floor pressed into his knees and shins. He was alone in his room. The rhythmic sounds of his breath. His fingertips touched the rough woven fabric of his robes. The deafening beat of his heart. He was alone in his room but not in the Temple. Breathe in, breathe out. At that very moment he was in the training hall with Quinlan. With Luminara in the Room of Thousand fountains. With Siri and Master Nu in the Archives. He was in the Creche listening to younglings' laughter. He sat next to Master Yoda in his dark, swamp-like room. He watched Master Windu and Master Plo argue in the hangar. Breathe in, breathe out.

There is no emotion, there is peace.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

And peace there was. He left his body behind and wandered in the vast corridors of the ancient Temple. Light poured in through the windows. Shadows lurked in the corners. Obi-Wan was everywhere. He stretched himself further beyond the walls, beyond the outskirts of the Temple. He reached to the pulsating heartbeat of Coruscant, trillion souls swarming, hungry and sated, happy and grieving, raging and apathetic. The baroque cacophony filled his senses, so loud and bright he almost missed a dark deaf speck glimmering in the fringes of his consciousness.

But the Force lead him elsewhere. He was a fish captured in a stream, in a wide river flowing down a hill, opening to a vast ocean.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Bright suns burning afterimages into his retina. Sun-like eyes staring into his. Pain.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Time carved wrinkles into his hands. He held a small japor snippet. It meant something dear to him, cutting deep into his heart. He cried.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

A small child cast large shadows and then the night swallowed him. Obi-Wan opened his mouth to call him by his name, but the boy was not there anymore.

A girl in black danced around a bonfire surrounded by mourners. Flames licked the night sky, as cries and songs and prayers burned in the pyre. Grief crashed into him like ocean waves hit rocks. His lips tingled with something wet, and he stepped forwards.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

The sound of tray hitting the floor tore Obi-Wan out of his trance.

He blinked, confused, at his master who had just nested himself on the floor opposite to him. Two cups and a kettle full of steaming tea stood between them.

"I did not sense you coming." He straightened his back, trying to rein in his disturbed face. His heart pounded wildly against his ribcage, as if he run around the block instead of meditating in his small bedroom.

"That's good, since I was sneaking." Qui-Gon smiled, the crow's feet fanning around his eyes. "How far did you go?"

"I think I reached the temporal stage before someone interrupted my meditation, jeopardizing my training as a Jedi."

"Such strong words from a mere Padawan." Qui-Gon gestured towards the cups. "Would this humble offering soothe his agitated nerves?"

"Depends on the brew." He took a sip. "Hm. I do feel suddenly very placated. What is it?"

"Alderaanian Grey, semi-fermented." Qui-Gon brought his cup to his lips. "Master Yan sends his regards, by the way."

"Master Dooku? He's in Coruscant?"

"He has already left. He didn't tell me he was supposed to visit the Senate. We met only this morning before his departure."

"Pity. I wish you'd introduce us one day." The tea tasted of earth and smoke. "Sometimes I wonder whether Master Dooku isn't a figment of your imagination, Master."

"That's interesting. He said the same about you."

"At least you have been informed about how suspicious it is that we keep missing each other."

They settled into comfortable silence, savouring the tea. Minutes passed by lazily in the light grey haze, as Qui-Gon filled in their cups. There was something peculiar on his Master's mind, Obi-Wan sensed, but he did not wish to share his thoughts yet.

"I've glimpsed something when I meditated, Master." He paused, waiting for his acknowledging grunt. "Some human youngling, a boy around ten years of age."

"From the Creche?" Qui-Gon laughed. "Look at you. I haven't cut your braid yet and you're already searching for Padawans in the Force."

"Who said I saw my Padawan?" Obi-Wan said. "Well, I have no idea I saw any Padawan. I didn't notice our djenna. None I'd recognize, at least."

"Well, in that case there is no point in wondering about the boy's identity. If you're to meet him, one day you will."

"I know, Master." Obi-Wan looked down at his hands holding the cup. "But there was… something about him. About the visions I had throughout the session." He paused, unable to put into words the sense of heart-wrenching longing that followed him vision after vision. "It felt too personal. As if I knew him. Or the others I saw."

"That doesn't change anything. When the time comes, you'll meet them. Without the necessary context you can spend your life pondering on the images in the Force, missing the opportunities to truly experience them. Here and now, Padawan, and I mean it."

"I understand, Master," Obi-Wan said. "But I can't deny it rather startled me."

"I don't expect anything else from you, Padawan." Qui-Gon smiled gently. "You're made for an adventurous life. I'd be more worried if your visions bored you."

"Great. I ought to let you know that may you live in interesting times is a Mirialan curse."

"A pessimistic folk, those Mirialans." Qui-Gon moved to refill his cup, when he stopped. "Hmm. Seems we've run out of tea. Remind me to ask Yan to send more."

"I'm not surprised you're the sole Jedi who celebrates your Master leaving the Order. More tea suppliers for you."

"Of course. If you ever happen to leave, I expect you to send me the rarest tea you can get your hands on."

"You shouldn't get your hopes up, Master. I fully intend to stay in the Order."

"And let your old master buy his own tea?"

"That's the price I'm willing to pay."

"Brat." Qui-Gon reached into the folds of his robe, pulling out a small datapad. "Tea wasn't the only thing Yan brought. Look at this." The device lighted up as the Jedi turned it on, revealing a wall of small rune-like letters. "Do you recognize the script?"

Obi-Wan was not a protocol droid, but he had earned several credits in the language classes. The script did not resemble any writing system he had come across. But there was some familiarity in the shapes. He was dead sure he had seen them somewhere. When he told Qui-Gon, the man grinned.

"I'll give you a clue. Kittât."

"Wait." Obi-Wan frowned. "You mean Master Dooku gave you the access to some Sithic text? I thought all that material was to be restricted to the Council!"

"Just because it's in the alphabet that was used by the Sith, doesn't mean this particular text was written by the Sith. They weren't the only culture using Kittât system. And according to Yan, it doesn't seem like it refers to any restricted practices."

"How can you be so sure?"

Qui-Gon pressed the button in the lower corner of the datapad.

"Because Yan transliterated the text." The Kittât symbols were replaced by Auberesh, and the direction switched from up-down to left-right. And although the language was still unfamiliar, there were some words that caught Obi-Wan's attention. Thuchuru. Thuheva.

"Isn't that in Old Jedha? One-entire and All-one?"

"You noticed. No, the text itself isn't in Old Jedha, but those two terms appear to be inherited from the language. If you ever talk Master Nu into showing you ancient Jedi texts, you'll discover that we used to use those terms as well." Qui-Gon turned his attention back to the datapad. "In most of our records both thuchuru and thuheva denote the state of one being in harmony. But in the older texts, thuheva was exclusively used to describe someone encompassing everything."

"And you think that the text is from the older period?"

"Yes. Kittât fell out of general use long before the formation of the Jedi order. My theory is that what we have here is one of the first records of the prophecy of the Chosen One."