The high vaults cradling the deserted Jedi Archives were now bathed in a shallow obscurity. A lone hooded figure paused in the main aisle to gaze at the busts of the most honoured masters of the Force as they caught the bluish glow of endless rows of holobooks. The lamps placed on the reading lounge's tables were shedding meager puddles of light on the paved floor.
Knight Nila Sohal, assistant warden of the Temple's lore, drew her burden of holobooks closer to her chest and resumed her quiet walk toward the sorting terminal. It was way past midnight and she realized with a sigh of relief that she was probably the last person awake in the sanctuary.
She was fond of those late hours when the world outside was lost to the night, when the Archives were hers for a few secret hours. Yet that night, the stillness around seemed to waver between its usual calmness and a slightly more disturbing feeling. As if something was going to happen. She smirked dryly at the thought, slipping the first holobook in the sorting terminal.
Nine years had past since the dire events on Naboo when the Jedi had discovered the apparent rekindling of the Sith Order and lost one of their most recognizedif undisciplinedMasters in the process. The entire Order had been deeply shaken, but routine had not been long to settle back.
Listening to the soft hum of the unit as it classified the data, Nila looked over the stout millenarian pillars framing the main alley. For some reason, she found their cold immutability reassuring. A smile graced her too serious features as she thought there had been a time when she would have never even imagined living in such a place, safe from the bustle of the sleepless megalopolis.
After a while, Nila pulled the folds of her heavy uniform cloak more tightly around her and slid her cold fingertips in its ample sleeves. The massive arches were glacial after sunset and her breath was now coming out in faint puffs of mist as it met the freezing air. Shivering, she returned to the reading lounge where lay the last stack of holobooks, vaguely registering the muffled hum of a computer in the study area as she passed by.
Her hasty strides suddenly faltered as she remembered that the Archives had been closed for over two hours.
The young woman frowned in annoyance at this intrusion into her moment of solitude. Stepping into the main alley, she spotted the bluish glare of a screen at the far end of the research area, but the chair in front of it was empty. She glanced around her.
No one.
Nila automatically probed her surroundings to detect a Force signature without results. If someone was here, he or she had to be tightly shielded but Nila crossed out that possibility almost at once – nobody would do this within the Temple unless there was some immediate threat and such thing had never happened in millennia.
What a notion…
Nila Sohal shrugged and walked up to the unit to disconnect the system and retrieve the holo still inside. As she touched the keyboard, the screensaver disappeared to reveal the irregular lines of an ancient manuscript. Probably Valayn by the look of it, the language of scholars in times of old used for literature or scientific treatises. A large portion of the text was missing at the bottom, possibly torn away or destroyed.
It was really getting late and the young woman reckoned she hardly had any spare time to pore over somebody else's work. Before ending the connection, she noted that the small characters had been scribbled by a hurried hand as though in distress or deep anxiety. Nila pocketed the disk to have it sorted by the terminal and returned to her task.
She was lifting her pile of holobooks when a furtive sensation stopped her. Just a subtle change of atmosphere, the air felt suddenly tighter—a mere flutter around her and it was gone.
A presence. Someone else was in here.
Nila set her burden on the desk and quickly put a hand on the metal chair. Still faintly warm—someone had sat there but a few minutes before. She instinctively went defensive and shielded her mind to inspect the area carefully. The size of Archives hall, the largest chamber of the Temple, was working against her. Yet, she guessed a relentless attention focused on her somewhere in the obscurity that made her keenly aware of the absence of her light sabre against her hip. Her status made it merely decorative and she had not worn it since her knighthood ceremony three years ago.
Her fists clenched and relaxed at her sides and she absently sensed a slight moisture gather in her palms.
Nothing moved, not a sound, everything was perfectly quiet save her now quickened breathing. Nila raised her eyes to the two balconies of the upper level running on each side of the room. The shadow of the cornice fringing the high openings seemed to curl menacingly in the cold and dim light as it cast strange silhouettes on the ground.
Suddenly, a faint noise somewhere amidst the shelves had her rushing into the small side alleys, drawing her away from the lights of the main aisle. She was isolated and unarmed. The hushed sound of her cloak brushing the tiles on the ground echoed quietly. Could they have finally managed to track her down here after those four years? A few grim names and faces sprung to life in her head…
It was ridiculous. She was being ridiculous. Nobody could break into this fortress.
Out of a habit, she started to chant the Code under her breath:
'There is no emotion; there is peace.
There is no ignorance; there is knowledge.
There is no passion; there is serenity.
There is no death; there is…
"FORCE!"
Her startled shout bounced off the wall inhumanely as a form swiftly dodged to the right. Nila barely had time make out a shape, assuming by the size it was a man or at least a male and he was quick! She feinted left to corner him but he boldly charged her, making her lose her balance and fall backward.
Nila cursed furiously and ran after him.
She started as she suddenly felt the odd flutter again, this time following her close as though miming her every move like a shadow in the sun…A quick look over her shoulder only revealed the empty aisle. Just as she decided she had imagined the sensation, something brushed past her shoulder and the sound of the hasty footfalls in front of her seemed to have divided in two…
Two different persons were running away from her.
But the noise a minute ago had been unmistakable! Yet, after a few seconds, her startled mind brushed through the Force something unknown… cold and slick… like seaweed…
Her concentration snapped. Ahead, the footfalls, which were those of a single person, accelerated and faded as though swallowed by the darkness.
She found herself standing like an idiot in the middle of an aisle, catching her breath, a bit disoriented.
The entrance door was wide open…they if there had ever been two of them had escaped. Nila Sohal shook her head in disbelief. Nobody could pick an electronic lock that fast she had quite an extensive knowledge on the matter. A few chosen expressions crossed her mind to send those wretched sons of a…
How odd though, her mind replayed what had just happened as she took cautious steps toward the door. The rules of the Archives were strict: none other than the Jedi was allowed to browse the documents inside the Archives. The civilians were only allowed in the morning, twice a week, in a separated reading lounge where they were brought the holovids they needed. And let's face it, how likely was it that somebody had broken unnoticed into a place full of Force sensitive people? Unlikely, yet not impossible if someone was coming from inside the Temple… she stopped none of it made sense.
The knight irritably rearranged her hood and spotted a bag beneath the desk of the computer she had switched off. It was a basic pouch made of tough canvas. Nila cautiously lifted the flap…
Nothing blew up in her face. So far so good. She sneaked a glimpse inside.
Suddenly, the flap snapped closed and the bag executed a backward movement. The young woman just had time to feel her eyes widen in surprise before she was shoved away by an invisible strength. She crashed violently against a shelf, the side of her face hitting a corner and slid to the floor with a breathless groan. Blocking the pain radiating in her back and cheekbone, she scrambled to her feet. Her opponent was still undetectable.
The knight was securing her hood over her face when she felt it coming. She anticipated the movement of an arm snatching from behind to seize her, grabbing it. Nila felt oddly reassured when her fingers closed on warm skin contrasting sharply with the strange…thing she had detected before. She gave a solid pull forward and threw the shadow on the floor. In a flash, her opponent was on his feet and flipping nimbly over her head.
Before he could make contact with the ground, she caught him behind his knees with her leg and swept his feet from beneath him. Taken off-guard, he waltzed across a desk, knocking off both the screen and the lamp in the process and fell out of view. A smug smile tugging at her lips, Nila leaned over the desk.
Possibly not a wise move…
Two hands shot out from the semi-obscurity and grasped her roughly by the edges of her robes. The young woman was pulled forward and thrown again to the floor. She blocked the fist aimed at her solar plexus and twisted it sharply, causing her adversary to lose his balance.
If sparring had always been Nila Sohal's element, this time she had miscalculated the distance between her and the desk's legs and found it impossible to dodge him when he fell flat on her. The bridge of her nose crashed against his shoulder. Her vision blurred as her breath was crushed out of her. The man froze for a second above her, allowing her to smash her elbow hard in his ribs which sent him rolling off her with a growl of pain.
Then, Nila groped in her utility belt for her small knife and stabbed swiftly albeit weakly. The blade tore the cloak and plunged into the skin beneath but as soon as it did, a burning sensation of pain saturated her senses. Both hissed sharply some sort of temporary connection had been established between them. Every blow she would land would be returned via the link… Above her, the man wasted no time to take advantage of her hesitation as he violently pushed his left forearm against her throat.
The knife fell on the ground as spots of dazzling light started to cloud her vision. Panic rose as she realized that she could not relieve the pressure on her neck. She thrashed around, arching her back desperately but his hold on her did not loosen and her strength started to slip away. Slowly her surroundings faded behind a thick black veil and she heard the sound of bell ringing more and more stridently in her head. As she lost her grip on reality, she remembered the fallen Master of Naboo confronting a Sith Lord. Her aggressor was obviously trained to use the Force, could that mean…
In a last effort, she managed to free her arm and sent a backhanded blow across the hood. The very characteristic snap of a light sabre inches from her face was the instant answer. She felt the scorching halo of the blade graze her cheek, shedding a menacing light on her face. Her limbs felt like lead, strangely passive, she awaited the blow.
A muffled exclamation escaped the hooded face and in a heartbeat, the sabre was deactivated, the dense mass was gone from her body and throat. Her eyes opened wide as tears started to trickle down in reaction to the choking. She drew a ragged breath that was immediately broken by a coughing fit. Then she was pulled to her feet.
"I'm so sorry… Are you well enough to stand on your own?" an unfamiliar voice with a melodic lilt inquired worriedly. Nila could not answer but her legs trembled badly and she would have collapsed if it had not been for his grip. "I don't understand what happened… I'm sure I felt something…"
Unknown hands brushed against her damp cheeks, wiping away the tears and the blood oozing from her nose. They felt a bit rough and awkward yet they were careful and warm. Nila let the strong fingers frame her face for a moment, let them calm her…Breathing in and out, slowly.
"It's not broken," he said, referring to her nose.
The slight daze cleared and Nila wrenched away from the man.
"Wait!" she hissed, forgetting herself. "What the hell was this for, you twisted bastard—"
Nila, though well on her way to shout herself hoarse, stopped dead as they reached the lighted area. The rude words echoed oddly in the solemn chamber. Her mouth closed with faint click when the light fell on his face. He was not the Enemy. No. But it was not exactly good news either. She mentally groaned as she realized that she had attacked a fellow Jedi.
A master to be precise.
And a rather famous one.
Oh, yes, had she not just insulted him too?
Mortified was not the word…
Apparently unconcerned by the breach of etiquette, the master's eyes were strained to study the woman standing in front of him in the dim light. Average size with dark hair and eyes to match and above all, a low, husky voice that did not seem to belong to her. It was not exactly unpleasant but he almost frowned at the impression of discordance it created.
The silence started to stretch uncomfortably as both realized they had no real idea of the proper thing to do and say.
Nila started to rub absently the dull remnant of pain in her neck, a move which in fact increased the Master's uneasiness.
"I'm genuinely sorry about that… incident," he started, brushing a hand in his tousled blond hair. "I was just doing the routine research after completing a mission. In such moments I seldom realize how late it is and I"
"Make a habit of molesting people in the dark?" Nila croaked wryly. "A personal technique to get rid of the stress, I suppose."
"Well. You were shielded too and fought back," he pointed out.
"What was I supposed to do? You attacked me."
"You stabbed me!"
"You choked me," Nila answered, matter-of-fact.
He had the decency to look embarrassed she had the decency to smile a little. "It evens the score, doesn't it?"
They smirked at each other then simultaneously winced and clamped a hand on the bruise they had inflicted on each other's cheekbone.
"Well. Another bright day for the Keepers of the Peace…" Nila remarked with a pained grimace.
He laughed at this and noticed she was talking quickly, darting her eyes toward him and smiling a bit hesitantly like someone who had not done it in a long time. As for Nila, she was a bit startled to hear his unrestrained, fully relaxed chuckle. A good, rich sound which made her lose some of her reserve.
"I have to apologize too for beating you to a pulp," she said sincerely.
"To a pulp?" A derisive smile formed on the master's face. "But it was quite a fight, I admit. I particularly liked the hidden knife part… very dramatic." He smirked again as he reached a hand inside his blood stained tunic to press the slash. Nila noticed his pallor and hurriedly fished in her pocket to hand him a handkerchief with a self-conscious glance.
"What was a young librarian doing up stabbing people this late after curfew?" he asked casually, accepting the piece of fabric.
"I'm Madame Nu's assistant," she corrected, not overly surprised that he did not seem to recall her although she had served every day in the Archives for a few years now. They had also attended a few classes together as Padawans but since he was a few years older and trained in the diplomatic corps while she had joined the Unit, they had parted ways early. And, well…since she had been knighted, she had tried to blend in the scenery as much as possible.
"Should I take you to the healers, Master?" she said, gesturing toward his wounded shoulder.
"No need. It's superficial. Do I know you?" he asked, having noted the use of his title. "Perhaps, a proper introduction is in order."
"I'm Obi-wan Kenobi, lurking threat and Jedi master," he declared straight-faced, extending his free hand.
Nila stared at his proffered hand, hesitated. 'Ah, blast it. He will find out anyway,' she mused.
"Nila Sohal, obscure Jedi knight with mild psychotic tendencies."
She watched his face closely, bracing herself for a potential spark of recognition. None came and his eyes were sparkling with humour. Relieved, Nila grasped his hand and they were exchanging an earnest handshake when the Force around them suddenly buzzed quietly.
The two Jedi froze and exchanged a look. Someone had stepped into the hall and was coming their way.
"What is going on here?"
They whirled in the direction of the demanding voice coming from afar.
Madame Nu…
Nila had again an odd sense of relief. A relief immediately doused when she caught a glimpse of the master and herself – there was little chance that their post rough-and-tumble in a seedy bar look strike the Archives Warden as anything remotely amusing.
"She'll have my head…" she groaned, rolling her eyes.
"Why? There's no reason " He looked down at the young woman who stared at him, an eyebrow raised. "What? We have a perfectly sensible explanation."
"Pardon me, but as it looks, the only plausible explanation we have is a hasty roll in the hay, Master," she replied bluntly, glancing down the aisle.
Kenobi remained stoic. "Thank you for that edifying comment, however, the blood smeared on my tunic and your bruised face will tell her otherwise."
Nila had a suggestive snigger which only earned her an emphatic eye roll.
"Nila?"
"Yes, Madame! Over here," she called out as she pushed him back in the shadows.
"Shield yourself, you're not supposed to be here," she whispered before he could protest. He gave her an odd look but gave in when she dismissed him with a nervous wave of her hand.
Nila grabbed a holobook at random on a nearby shelf before Jocasta Nu made a beeline to her. The dignified elderly lady prided herself on being the most efficient archivist of the galaxy Nila often sported the idle thought that she had run all the others through and ruled over an ocean of data with a strong sense of authority and an outstanding absence of any sense of humour.
The heavy folds of her dress pooled handsomely at her feet as she arched an eyebrow at her assistant who was standing in the middle of the alley, a holobook under her arm apparently an outdated treatise about star fighters' stabilizer system nobody ever consulted.
"What are you doing up at this hour, young one?" she inquired.
The pointed look on the very unlikely holo was not lost on Nila who shifted uncomfortably. Although she had turned twenty-eight, the warden had her on her toes just as in her padawan years.
"I was finishing storing, my lady and getting ready to call it a night…" she said simply, for indeed, it was what she had intended to do before Kenobi was unleashed in the hall.
"And then the holobooks decided to attack you…" the warden concluded evenly, her eyes locked on the stains Kenobi's blood had left on her tunics.
Nila thought mournfully about how the night had started so peacefully.
Madame Nu pursed her lips slightly, a gesture which emphasized subtly the thin stern lines of the lower part of her face and called out. "I trust you found what you were looking for, Master Kenobi."
It was not a question but a confident statement.
Nila blanched a bit but remained dignified when the young master walked out of the aisle, a glimmer of mirth dancing in his eyes. His composure did not slip when he answered with a perfect natural: "Not quite yet, Madame, but I have the feeling that I'm getting closer."
"The entrance door was wide open," the caretaker carried on with a glance at the red smear on Kenobi's outfit. "I do hope that it is not what I suspect, Nila."
The knight's expression suddenly darkened.
Kenobi glanced at them curiously before explaining with a benign smile: "It was my fault. Knight Sohal didn't know I had your permission to work here past curfew and I startled her. I have just come back from a difficult mission on Yavin. I did not realize I was shielded."
Although it was clear that Madame Nu was not buying it one second, she nodded graciously as Nila shot him a sidelong glimpse. Yavin?
"I'm sorry for the trouble it caused," he said to Nila, interrupting her train of thought.
"It is quite all right, Master Kenobi. Did you just say you were "
"Nila. I do believe those holobooks still need to be sorted," Madame Nu cut in firmly.
Nila straightened up stiffly at the curt dismissal and managed a subdued "Yes, Madame" before retreating toward the abandoned stack of holobooks in the study area.
She made her way past the caretaker and the master absorbed in a quiet conversation trying to focus on the task at hand instead of the unworthy yet entertaining thought of feeding the Warden the holos she was holding.
The young woman was half way to the terminal when she felt the high stack becoming unstable. Her two arms were trapped under the pile and she was in plain view of the caretaker. Tricky. She tried various angles to balance it but the sleek cover increased the motion and the holo on the top slid perilously. Cursing under her breath, Nila eventually opted for levitating it back in place when she heard Madame Nu calling her. Her attention snapped for a mere second, enough for the holo to slip and crash down.
Nila flinched when the electronic book hit the floor, the sound echoing outrageously in the frozen silence off the archives' vaults. Closing her eyes a second, she turned to face the two other Jedi only to find them staring at something at her feet. Intrigued, Nila looked down.
The shock had activated the system. On the floor, a beam of light gushed from the translucent envelop. The walls all around them were suddenly covered with ancient characters, cabalistic signs and unfamiliar designs. A hushed voice started to chant with an odd lilt in what seemed to be an old dialect intertwined with a louder one singing in Basic:
The Queen's Archives, City of Almorch, 96th equinox of the Renewal Era.—
To whoever reads these forgotten lines, mark me: from them shall the prophecy unravel…
At the beginning was Ossus, beautiful and blue, white and green, and untouched. Then came Mankind, small, fangless and clawless, without venom or strength, but with their faculty to tell good from evil or what they considered as such. Their desire for learning was great and soon their knowledge of Universe challenged all imaginations. One of them who went by the name of Sky Walker eventually discovered the Fundamental Energy, the essence of life the Force.
But Mankind is weak, Mankind is fickle
All their knowledge good or dark, they poured in Seven Scrolls of wisdom and power. Seven Scrolls that could create or destroy. Seven Scrolls defying Nature itself.
Their Vanity had a price and Harmony did not last. Their thirst for power seemed unquenchable and it eventually split them up. Soon, grief, strife, treachery and terror spread over the known world like an unstoppable plague. Fathers fought against their own sons, brothers against their own brothers until the world was ultimately consumed, swallowed by the sands of the Great Cataclysm.
The Seventh Scroll was lost and Ossus was no more. The survivors fled the ruins of the Ancient World to build another, but their knowledge was incomplete and they wandered for ages under the now unfathomable signs of the celestial vault. Their soul will forever bear the scar of the shattered balance between light and darkness.
Sorrow is upon us, our enemies are watchful and swift. Few are those who dare now to hope that the Horsemen will spring to life again to guide the Three appointed by the Runes of the prophecy. Only they can find the missing Scroll, only they can restore balance. Mark my words and beware!
O Children of Almorch, how unwise have you been…
As the whispers went on, Nila could only watch transfixed on the dark patterns the hologram was projecting on her. The greenish shadow of a crescent was painted on her left breast. A wave of nausea hit her and her head felt fuzzy. Through her haze, she saw Kenobi reaching an arm toward the Holo. A crescent similar to the one she bore on her chest was etched on his right forearm and a strangely formed 'Y' marked his forehead.
The master snapped the book shut and the beam of light disappeared as the voices faded away. Nila snapped out of her stupor when she felt her arms buckle under the weight of the volumes she was still carrying. But before she could repeat the earlier feat, she was relieved from her charge. Kenobi was at her side rearranging the stack in his arms.
"Lead the way. I will take care of it," he said, nodding toward the Main Terminal. As soon as they had walked out of Madame Nu's earshot, he leaned slightly toward her and whispered:
"What was that?"
Nila seemed to ponder an answer as she pushed the data in the sorting system.
"Apparently a copy of a Holocron," she eventually murmured. "Certainly belongs to the Royal Archives – the old ones, long before Ossus' destruction and the advent of the Republic…But it's strange, the Holocrons are not accessible their content has been judged too dangerous to be copied and consulted by –"
The young woman suddenly broke off and straightened up. She addressed a polite smile to the master and hastily walked away. Obi-Wan Kenobi looked above his shoulder to find Madame Nu watching him impassively.