The final chapter of the prologue! The chase is on, as Nizzy must find sanctuary from the Darkness that pursues her and learn new things about the world around her. Also, we find out that her Guardian is more than he seems at first glance . . . On with the story!

Addendum: Sorry if I made some word mistakes in the last chapter, but I stayed up until 12.30 PM to get it finished, with a big mug of coffee in front of me.

Chapter IV – Memories of the Old Gods

Do not judge the Gods . . .

They have painful Secrets.

Jean-Paul Sartre

The inhabitants of Tasuuan, the capital (and only) city of Cyllis had spent an uneventful night. Everything was the same as usual, in this small port-city, which had a population of only 100.000 souls. The morning sun was bathing everything in a fine, gold shroud, as various sentients, both human and alien, were scurrying back and forth, getting ready for a new day. Nothing was out of the ordinary, except for a few strange news reports, that spoke of an unusual sand storm, which had occurred in the Sayr hills, to the East. But no one believed these rumors. A sand storm? Just as the rainy season was ready to start? Impossible! The witnesses were probably only attention-seeking liars. How far from the truth they were . . .

x x x

To the casual observer, there appeared to be nothing wrong with the old, rust-colored speeder which was making its way towards the city, along the Eastern Road. Probably just one of the prospectors working at the excavation site. However, if one were to take a closer look, he would notice several odd details. Firstly, the speeder didn't seem to be able to run in a straight line. Instead it kept swerving abruptly to the left and right, a few time going off the road, as if the driver had spent the night in a bar, on an alcohol drinking binge. Secondly, judging by many fresh dents in the chassis and the cracked windshield, it had encountered several large obstacles on the way. Seeing this, one might think that the driver was too drunk to be able to drive properly. No one would suspect that, behind the steering rod, sat a thirteen year girl, aided by an invisible Guardian.

"This thing is almost as slow as a sloth!" Nizzy grumbled, pulling sharply on the steering rod, avoiding a near-collision with a formation of rocks.

"I agree" the Guardian's voice answered. "However, it was the only available means of transportation and it will have to do for now."

Nizzy mumbled something unintelligible as she avoided another obstacle, only to mow trough a patch of dense vegetation.

"Would you have preferred to walk on foot?"

The girl shook her head, keeping her eyes on the road in front of her.

"The stop complaining. If the landscape is any indication, we should arrive in the city soon."

All around them, the plains were disappearing, making way for large fields, in which the native crops of saubaa plants grew.

"There it is" Nizzy said, pointing straight ahead, where the blocky, tan colored buildings of Tasuuan could be seen. "Are we going to enter inside the city?"

"No, not with the speeder. It will draw too much unwanted attention. Find a spot at the outskirts where you can leave it"

"And then?"

"We'll have to make our way to the spaceport as quickly as possible."

Nizzy nodded, as she turned the vehicle to the right. Advancing a few more meters, she stopped in the shadow of a run-down, derelict building and cut the engine.

"Good. Now let us make haste!"

Nizzy opened the door and exited, but after a few steps, the Guardian's voice interrupted her:

"Aren't you forgetting something?"

Puzzled, Nizzy looked back at the speeder, only to see the metal crate, on the back seat.

"Oh, that" she said, flatly.

"What is the matter? A few hours ago you were very curious to know what was inside it."

"A few hours ago Mr. and Mrs. Wrenn were alive and I wasn't being chased all over the planet by killers!" she retorted, fiercely.

"Nevertheless, you must take it with you. Many answers to your questions lie within."

Sighing, Nizzy dragged the crate out of the speeder.

"What should we do next?"

"Do you remember which way the spaceport is?"

Nizzy flicked through her memories, to the day almost two months ago, when she and the Wrenns arrived here, on a private shuttle from Coruscant.

"To the North" she answered slowly. "Just passed a large plaza and some storage depots."

"Very well. Let's head that way. And remember: move as stealthily as possible and don't stay in an open space for too long!"

Nodding her assent, Nizzy started to walk towards the spaceport, dragging the crate behind her. The first couple of streets didn't pose much of a problem, seeing as very few sentients lived in the dingy district that made up the outskirts. However, as she began to get closer and closer towards the center, Nizzy had to leave the crowded areas and crawl through dark, dirty, narrow alleys.

"It smells awful!" Nizzy huffed, as she passed a few overflowing garbage bins.

"Moments like this make me feel relieved that I am a ghost and therefore have no sense of smell" her Guardian said, smugly.

"Shut up!"

After an agonizing half an hour through the city's filthy bowels, the girl managed to exit the alley and find herself in a large plaza. People were walking in all directions laughing and mingling. Obviously, this was the heart of the city.

"Finally, fresh air!" Nizzy said, inhaling deeply.

"Nisadora, hide! Quick!"

In a second, Nizzy's reflexes kicked in and she threw herself and the crate in a small parting between two buildings.

"What was that about?"

"Be silent!"

After what seemed like a minute, a patrol of uniformed officers passed by the spot where the girl had been standing earlier.

"Those are members of the Security Forces!" she said, recognizing their dark green uniforms. "We could ask them for help."

"No!"

"But why? When someone is out to kill you, the best solution is to turn to the Security Forces!"

"We don't know their intentions. It could be possible that they are in league with those mercenaries."

"No way! They're supposed to protect the civilians!"

"Nisadora, we are not on Alderaan or another such civilized place. This is the Outer Rim. Life is rough out here. It wouldn't have been hard for the mercenaries to bribe the leaders of the local militia. A couple of donations and a recent photo of the target to be eliminated is all that is needed."

"I'm so foolish" she whispered.

"No. Sheltered from the harshness of life is not the same as foolish. If you were truly foolish, now you would be lying in a grave."

The child crossed her arms over her chest, but remained thoughtfully silent.

"They have passed" the Guardian said. "Let us go."

Nizzy grabbed the crate and continued her trek, carefully walking very close to the buildings and hiding swiftly if she saw any suspicious activity.

At last, after four grueling hours, she managed to sneak inside the spaceport, through an old air vent.

"You are learning quickly young one."

Nizzy allowed herself the luxury of a small smile, but it died on her lips when she saw the vast number of ships in the docking bays. There were aircraft of all shapes and sizes: from small, one-man fighters, to two huge, silver cruisers.

"Oh, no! How are going to find out which one of these goes to Coruscant? There are hundreds of them!"

"Do not give in to despair, child. It will gain you nothing."

"Then what shall be do, High and Mighty spirit?"

"Think, girl" the spirit said, ignoring Nizzy's insult. "Use the brain you were born with!"

Nizzy frowned. What does this crazy spirit want me to do? Find a few magic words, chant them and be instantly transported to Coruscant!

"No, Nisadora. Use your mind. Often it will be the only shield between you and certain death."

The girl bit her lip, frustrated.

"Can't you help me in some way?"

"If I do everything for you, this is all pointless. You will stagnate, become dependant on my guidance, unable to fend for yourself. Is that what you wish? To always rely on others, not being able to stand up on your own two feet?"

"No" Nizzy murmured, her eyes set on the tips of her shoes.

"Raise your eyes, child" the Guardian said, in a gentler tone. "You are an innocent, captured in a web of lies and deceit. It is not your fault."

Nizzy raised her gaze, reluctantly and bit her tongue to hold back from screaming. In front of her, a tall, slightly transparent man had appeared. He was clad in simple, dark robes. He looked to be about in his mid-fifties, with short, silver hair, fine wrinkles and deep, blue eyes that looked at the girl with kindness.

"Who . . . who . . . ?"

"Do not worry, young one. I am your Guardian and I would never hurt you."

Nizzy swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat.

"Why didn't you show yourself before?"

"Because I feared it might frighten you" he answered. "I know from experience that the Living can be very panicky when it comes to apparitions of the Dead."

"When did you die?" she asked, unable to refrain from studying the man from head to toe.

"A long time ago" he answered, in a nostalgic tone, his eyes taking on a faraway look. "When the Galaxy was in a deep struggle between the Darkness and Light."

"You fought in that struggle?"

"Yes. In a sense, I was the one who caused it all to happen." he said, in a low whisper that sent chills up Nizzy's spine. She opened her mouth, to ask another question, but was interrupted by a loud, male voice:

"There she is!"

Nizzy and the Guardian both whirled around, only to see five soldiers of the militia, coming at them in full sprint, with blaster carbines in their hands.

"Run!"

The girl didn't waste even a second; she lunged forward, running as fast as her short legs could carry her.

"After her!"

Nizzy ran, focusing straight ahead: her brain kept ordering her to look back, to see her pursuers, but she quickly clamped down on that thought.

"Concentrate" the Guardian's words rang inside her mind. "Focus only on the here and now. Everything else is irrelevant."

I must be strong, she chanted in her head, like a mantra. I must be focused. I must survive!"

Unfortunately, the sprint was taking her toll on her already overworked tiny body. Her muscles were throbbing painfully and each move felt like moving a ton of boulders.

Her breath came in ragged gasps, as her lungs demanded more air. Her head was starting to spin from the effort and she felt her concentration shattering.

"Focus, child!"

Try as she might, Nizzy could not get her body to move with the same swiftness. She clearly heard the clipping of the soldiers' boots on the metal floor. They were gaining on her.

The Force is my ally! Nizzy thought as she reached deep inside within herself, to that hidden spot, there the dormant energy lay. Pulling away the barriers, she let it flow freely through her, charging every cell of her body.

They will not catch me. Not today!

Using the invisible current, the girl accelerated her movements, passing workers technicians and pilots alike, who only saw a band of militia soldiers chasing an indistinguishable blur.

"She's getting away" one of the soldiers yelled. "Shoot her down!"

Nizzy felt the shot coming a split-second earlier and jumped to the right. Then another came. And another. The girl managed to deflect three in total, but a fourth managed to elude her senses and grazed her left thigh.

With a scream, Nizzy collapsed to the floor, her hold over the Force slipping away from her.

"She's down!" a soldier announced. The four of them strode over towards the crumpled form of the girl.

"Is she dead?" one man asked, pointing to the bleeding wound on her leg.

"Not likely" another answered. "That shot wasn't lethal." He raised his carbine and aimed the child's head. "But this one will be!"

"No!" a soldier ordered, pushing the other's weapon down.

"What did you just say?"

"I said no! We do not need to kill her. Alive, she's worth a lot more. Besides, I don't know about you, but I'm not about to kill a defenseless kid!"

"Are you out of your blasted mind! Did you forget how much money were in for if we do this job?"

"No, I haven't forgotten. I just think we've gone too far with this!"

The other soldier's response was a string of curses, in which he proceeded to send his comrade back to his earliest origins.

"Umm, guys?" a third one asked slowly.

"WHAT!" the two yelled in unison, turning towards him.

"We have a problem" he said, pointing at the floor. There, where Nizzy had been, was only a small spill of blood.

The five men gaped at the spot, stunned! Somehow, the child had managed to escape when they were not paying attention.

"You idiots!" one of them growled. "We had her in our hands and now she's gotten away because of your stupid bickering.

The others at least had the decency to look ashamed.

"Stop standing there, you jumma-heads! We have to go find her! Seal all exits and entrances! No one is to leave this port until we have her!"

All the soldiers saluted, spreading in various directions.

"And when you see her, eliminate her! One clear shot to the head and this whole mess will be over!"

"Sir, yes sir!"

x x x

As the soldiers scattered, Nizzy dared to move slightly in the small niche where she had crawled when the men were distracted with their bickering. Wincing, with trembling hands, she finished to tie another strip of cloth to her wounded leg. Gritting her teeth, she leaned her back against the metal wall, trying to ignore the pain.

"That was too close" she struggled to whisper.

"That it was" her Guardian said, materializing alongside her. "I'm sorry, child."

"For what?" she asked, hoarsely.

"I should have been more careful. I was so engrossed in answering your questions, that I didn't feel them until it was almost too late."

"It was not your fault."

"Oh, yes it was! Even after so many years, I still manage to surprise myself with the stupid mistakes I make!"

Nizzy wanted to say something, but the Guardian interrupted her, by placing a shimmering, translucent hand on her shoulder.

"No, child. Not another word. You must conserve your strength."

Nizzy could only nod. She felt odd from the spirit's touch. When she was much younger, she had imagined a ghost' hands to be deathly cold. But his were different: they were warm and soothing. A strange feeling zipped through her as she became aware of a deep connection that she and this spirit-man shared. Somehow, the connection had always existed. She had felt small echoes of it in the cave and when she first touched the silvery metal crate. This, however, was the first time she felt it at its true intensity. Something far more grand than her young mind could comprehend was tying them together. And what ever it was, it could not be undone easily.

The Guardian smiled brightly and Nizzy could see happiness lighting his battle-hardened features.

"Yes, there is a connection between us, young one. It is one of the reasons why I am helping you."

"What is the other reason?"

"You called upon me" he answered simply, not elaborating further.

Nizzy frowned, not comprehending.

Called upon you? When?

Her memories drifted back to the cave and the words she had instinctively shouted:

Jedi-Emperor, give me strength!

And in that moment, it all clicked into place.

"You! You're . . . the Jedi-Emperor!" she said, in a strangled voice.

"Guilty as charged" he answered, with a rueful half-smile.

Nizzy could only stare, all coherent thoughts abandoning her.

"Well, are you going to stare at me all day?" the Guardian asked, impatiently.

Nizzy slapped herself, to make sure this wasn't some freak dream or fantasy. Naturally, she felt a twinge of pain in her cheek. It was true, then. It was true! Before she could stop herself, the words left her lips:

"Are you really a God?"

The spirit looked at her for a moment, then he threw his head back, laughing.

"What's so funny?"

"Me . . . a God?" He said, fighting to stop laughing. "Bless you child, where in stars did you get a preposterous idea like that?"

"My Uncle told me" she answered, feeling her cheeks flush in embarrassment. "So . . . you're not a God?"

"No, young one. Never was and never will be. In fact, I probably am the worst possible candidate for Divinity. With me as a God, this Galaxy would have been blown up in a million pieces by now!"

Nizzy smiled, at her own naïveté. She watched her Guardian, amazed at the change she alone had produced in him in the last few hours. From gloomy and brooding, his disposition had shifted to cheerful and lighthearted. And, somehow, she was the catalyst of this change.

"Now" he said, turning serious once more, "we have a task to finish."

Nizzy nodded assent. Gripping the wall with one hand, she slowly rose to her feet, flinching with every sudden more.

"Good. Now, we need to retrieve the crate."

Struggling to keep her balance, Nizzy walked one small step at a time. As she exited the niche, she looked all around her. Noticing that the corridor was empty, the girl headed back to the docking bays. Surely enough, the crate lay on the metal floor, undisturbed, the spaceport personnel probably misdeeming it for luggage. Grabbing the handle, Nizzy started to tow it after her.

"Any idea as to how we can get out of here?" she asked. "All of the exits have been blocked."

"Not all of them. Standard security protocol states that, in case of an emergency, both ground and aerial traffic are to be interrupted."

"And? What does it have to do with us?"

"That protocol has not been applied here. Only the ground-level exits have been sealed, while the air traffic continues its normal course."

"Why?"

"Because the only thing that sustains this planet and its inhabitants is the commerce with other planets. If the naval traffic was to be shut down, even for a few hours, the consequences would be devastating. The economy, already fragile, would collapse immediately and with it would come all the other things that bring about the demise of a society."

Nizzy listened intently. She wasn't sure if the had understood everything she had been told, but she got the general idea.

"They're not willing to risk the welfare of their homeworld just to catch me" she stated.

"Exactly" acknowledged the Guardian. "Which is why boarding a ship bound towards Coruscant is our best chance at escape."

"But which one?" Nizzy sighed, exhaustedly.

"Let us think . . . what is this planet's economy based upon?"

Nizzy drummed her fingers on the surface of the crate, remembering what Quar Wrenn had told her.

"Mining. They mine ore from underground deposits."

"Good. Do they refine the ore themselves?"

"No. There are no refineries here. They are only suppliers."

"So, the ore is taken off planet" the Guardian said, thoughtful. "Tell me, do you know where the Galaxy's biggest ore refinery is?"

"Everyone knows that" she chimed in, enthusiastically. "It's on Coruscant! Me and my Uncle once flew past it."

The Guardian nodded. "Now, we can presume that the ore is transported to Coruscant to be refined. That is our key to leaving Cyliis."

Nizzy frowned slightly, but then realized the obvious answer:

"An ore-hauler!"

"Exactly. And there is one in Docking Bay 14 getting ready to take off as we speak."

Not wasting any more precious time, Nizzy and the Guardian set out for Docking Bay 14.

x x x

The ore-hauler was swiftly making its way through hyperspace, towards Coruscant, the capital of the New Republic. The small crew took care of their duties, unaware of the fact that they had stowaways on board.

Inside a hidden compartment, Nizzy was fiddling with the silver crate. No matter what she did, the thing wouldn't open.

The Guardian watched her for a few minutes, before he broke the silence.

"I believe I owe you an explanation."

"You can say that again" the girl murmured, absentmindedly.

"To know how to preserve your future, you must see the Past" he stated, placing his hand on her forehead.

"What are you doing . . . "

But she wasn't able to finish the question. A flurry of colors exploded before her eyes. She felt her consciousness merge with that of her Guardian.

You will see the past through my eyes . . . through my memories . . .

Then all went black and Nizzy couldn't feel her own being anymore as she was seeing the Past . . . through the Jedi-Emperor's memories . . .

Author's Note: The prologue is finished. I'll post the next chapter as soon as possible.