Chapter 3

"…Dwoo?"

In a dusty cavern beneath the ground, a nearly-black giant room sat untouched for decades. The room was a virtual cornucopia, if one needed an abundance of outdated equipment. Several old droid models lay there, inactivated for well over a century, and several disassembled. Several wires stuck out around the derelict droids, who age was reflected in the YVH 1 droid leaning next to the part of a disassembled Trade Federation Battle Droid.

Several starfighters also laid scattered in the room, ranging from fighters as recent as the century old Hunter-class TIE fighter, in its time aptly nicknamed "voidwalkers" for the feet-like wings that accompanied the fighter, to the ancient T-65 X-Wing that, from the look of it, hadn't seen action since Palpatine was still alive…the first time.

Several wires and spare parts that may have once belonged to who knows what were spread nonsensically along the large room. And in one dusty corner of the room, under a mess of wires, a red, circular light shone in the darkness. Beneath the red circle, a metal claw arm began to retract and pull away the mass of spare parts amassed in the corner as, next to the arm, a fusion cutter began to tear through some of the heavier junk.

After a couple of moments, the pile of refuse had been fully cleared away to reveal a small cylindrical droid. Seemingly determined, the little droid moved, with some rusty scratching noises prevalent, to the center of the room where a large console which, although also covered in scrap, was largely intact. From the droid's body came a scomp link which proceeded to plug into the console. Physically moving around, the link searched for what it was looking for. After several moments, the droid seemed to find what it was looking for. Slowly, the droid backed out of the terminal and turned around. The droid domed head swiveled around, seemingly searching for something in particular when it rested on a single sport. The droid wheeled to this spot and stopped at a spotty, deep bronze colored humanoid chassis. The droid plugged his scomp link into a rather uncomfortable place had the humanoid droid been human and began uploading something.

The humanoid droid's sensors, shaped like human eyes, turned on a fluorescent white color. The white color bounced of the two droids causing a dim light to shine on them both.

The bronze droid, now fully activated, began to speak. "Hello, I am See-Threepio, Human-Cyborg relations and-oh!" the droid seemed to be aware of where it was. "Good heavens me, just where am I?"

The small droid, now illuminated to reveal it was a small cylindrical R-series unit with white and blue markings, tweetled before the humanoid droid.

"Artoo-Detoo? Wherever are we?"

R2-D2, as he was called, moved his head around and responded, "Tweele-dwoo-aroo."

The protocol droid, C-3PO, asked "What do you mean you don't know?"

"Darorooo."

"You received a message that activated you?"

"Twiddle-roo-roodoo."

"What do you mean my body? Oh my! What happened to my golden chassis? You've transferred me into another body, you stupid droid! Where are my real droid parts?"

The blue droid chirped once again in droid-speak and began to wheel away.

"Oh, come back here you blasted droid! Where do you think you are going?" cried Threepio.

The cylindrical droid kept moving forward while Threepio cried, "A door?"

Just as Threepio said it, a rusty door opened to reveal a dimly lit atrium. The two droids slowly walked, and wheeled, into the atrium. The atrium was entirely made of stone. Steps, carved out of stone began right where the doors to the chamber ended. Beyond the stairs, to either side, was a long underground lake. The water shimmered and reflected and caused dim light to flood the atrium, coming from seemingly nothing. Above, the stairs seemed to wind in an unidentifiable pattern that could merely be described as "up." The top of the stairs could not be seen.

"Oh, dear. I don't suppose there is another way out of here? I think I will just go back and see if I can find another way to—oh! Let go of me you stupid—ah!"

While Threepio was speaking, Artoo had taken the liberty of extending of firing cable gun from his cylindrical body and wrapping it around Threepio's entire metal body. Finding him securely fastened in the cable, Artoo activated his rocket thrusters and blasted off of the atrium and, bypassing the stairs, went up.

"Let me down!" the droids voice began to droid out in the wind of acceleration. "Artoooooo!"

Scorpio Grottl roamed the grounds of the Academy of Knowledge and History. It was a calming spot where many Jedi did not roam regularly. It was a good place to think, if one did not mind risking the chance of running into a tourist.

He hadn't forgotten the tremor in the Force from the week before. From the look on Jogrum's face, it seemed that Katarn had felt it the most, but Grottl had felt it more than he cared to let on. He suspected many of the other Masters in the council felt it as strong as he did as well, but if they did, they were not telling.

Grottl wanted to know what it meant. He had considered consulting Wori-Ky, the Order's Miraluka seer, but he knew that, unless consulted in the privacy of the Jedi Council, Wori-Ky's prophecies often became common knowledge. He would remember to suggest consulting the seer at the next Council meeting.

So Grottl was left to his own musings. Unlike some premonitions, the feeling of dread and pain was not accompanied by an actual vision. This stuck Grottl as odd. He was no stranger to the mysteries of the Force. In the past, strong premonitions of future were usually accompanied by a vision. The fact that this deep feeling, stronger than any other premonition Grottl had ever experienced, did not involve a vision was extremely troubling.

"Excuse me, Master Jedi?"

Grottl didn't bother turning around. Rather, he felt the small male presence behind him. Still not turning to face the speaker, Grottl responded, "I am extremely busy right now."

"Please, not to bother you, but I am Professor Yamta of the Obroan Institute, I'm sure you've heard of me."

Grottl continued to walk forward. "No, I don't believe I have."

Grottl felt the professor's surprise, "Really now? Oh, no matter. I am here representing the—"

"That is really quite wonderful," Grottl said, his voice dripping in sarcasm. "but I really cannot help you.

"Please, I am here representing the Imperial Studies division of the Obroan Institute."

Grottl stopped in his tracks. He turned his head slightly to look at the professor and raised an eyebrow. "Imperial Studies? And what are you doing here?"

The professor, who Grottl now saw to be a short balding man with limbs that were slightly shaking, seemed relieved to finally be getting a response. "Research of the Order of the Imperial Knights. I would like to know if you might have any records on the subject and where I might find them?"

"The Imperial Knights were nothing more than heretics founded by their insane leader, Fel." Sensing the professor's anxiousness, and thinking it might get rid of him, Scorpio turned his head back away from the professor and said, "However, if you are set on finding these records, check the Academy of Knowledge and History. Ask for Master Avogadro."

"Thank you, Master—oh. Hello there, my friend."

Scorpio turned his entire body around. Leaning up against the professor's leg was a small astromech droid.

"Well, well. What have we here?" murmured Grottl.

The professor got down on his knees, slightly shorter now than the droid, and began to exam it. "Hm, let's see. Looks like Bornaryn Trading droid, R2 series. But…oh! Look at this. The pattern on this droid is not like the current R2 models. Those marks seem to be the same type of marks that the R2 series had back when it was produced by Industrial Automaton."

Grottl got on his knees to inspect the droid as well. "Industrial Automaton? But they were bought out by Bornaryn Trading nearly three hundred years ago." Grottl rubbed his gloved hands along the blue dome of the droid; a layer of filth coated it. The marks were worn down, many wipe away by something Grottl could only guess, but it seemed grossly out of place with the modern Jedi buildings.

"Tell me professor, when was the last time R2 droids were painted with these particular design?"

"After Industrial Automaton? Maybe thirty years, so about two hundred fifty years ago, give or take a decade."

"So, just how old is this droid?" Grottl was starting to feel fear creeping up on him. The fact that something was out of the ordinary right after receiving that vision…

"I don't know; let me see…" the professor bent down to look at the droid's legs. "Look at his retractable third leg. It still sports the original legs type, not made since the droid's first appearance on the market. The things this droid might contain in its databanks…I must inspect it!"

Grottl was about to object when a—well, annoying, voice called out, "Artoo, do come back!"

A bronze protocol droid come along from behind the men and droid. Nearly the entire droid's chassis was rusted and dented, however because the rusting metal was the same color as the droid's paint job, it looked as if the droid had been crumpled up in someone's hand and thrown back out.

"Oh, hello." The droid look to the two men, "My name is See-"

The bronze droid was interrupted by a whistle from the short one.

"What do you mean don't tell them?" the rusted droid turned to the two men, "I am sorry; Artoo here has always been a bit of loose cannon. Especially for a droid."

Grottl was now immensely suspicious. The Artoo unit was strange enough, but a rusted droid following the astromech…

"Master Grottl."

Grottl turned to see the speaker of the words. It was an average size human. He seemed to be about sixteen or seventeen and had brown hair that fell to the middle of his neck and in the front to his eyes, often obscuring them; as well, his hair fell to the bottom on his earlobes. His face was clean shaved and rounded, most reminiscent of grav-ball. His eyes were wide set on his face, rather far from his nose. His mouth had thin lips but seemed to form into a wide smile. He wore long necklace around his neck that held a small pendant at the bottom, which extended to his chest. He wore the common brown Jedi robes along with a sand-colored tabard and similarly colored boots. Grottl almost didn't recognize him without his typical rimless spectacles

this particular Jedi often favored but soon realized it was the only son of two of his fellow Masters.

"Jedi Horn." Grottl said, intentionally trying to throw the young Jedi of balance with his piercing eyes. "I understand you passed your trials early, but that is no excuse not to be studying."

The young Jedi seemed unfazed, "I was just bringing these two droids to the Academy of Knowledge and History."

"Than they are your droids?"

The protocol droid moved as if to say something, but before he could the astromech said something in droidspeak that made the taller droid stop.

"Yes, they are mine. Please, R2-T9, CRA-87, come with me."

Grottl was about to object but thought against it. Perhaps he was just looking to assure himself nothing was wrong, but he wanted to have nothing to do with these mysterious droids. "Fine then, Jedi Horn. And take this man with you."

"Thank you, Master." Horn bowed his head and then turned to the professor. "Come with me."

Walking away from Grottl, Horn led the professor towards and through the glass doors of the Academy of Knowledge and History. As they entered the cooled building, Horn extended a hand towards the balding professor and said. "Hello, I'm Kieran Horn."

The professor shook Kieran's hand excitedly. "I'm Professor Yamta of the Obroan Institute, currently representing the Imperial Studies division. You're a Jedi?"

Kieran gave a toothy grin, as if excited for the opportunity to talk, "Yep, just knighted last month."

"Knighted?" the professor scrunched his nose as if trying to remember an old lecture, "So you are longer an apprentice, but a Jedi Knight?"

"That's the way it works."

Kieran turned down the end of a small corridor to enter a large library. The library was built on the same spot as the Jedi Academy of the legendary Luke Skywalker's day. The inverted ziggurat of the old Academy, or what remained of it, was torn down and rebuilt as in a similar style to the other rounded Jedi buildings, with the addition layer domes upon domes. The inside was covered in gold colored holobookcases, extended down a far hall. From the records Kieran had seen, the Academy of History and Knowledge's library, colloquially known as the Jedi Annals, bore a striking resemblance to the Jedi Archives on Coruscant. The blue color of the holobooks reflected off the gold to give off the sensation that one was walking in an ocean of gold.

"So, Professor, what are you here for?"

"The Institute was looking for a liaison to Ossus, and I figured I could take some time off from my lectures, so here I am!"

Kieran nodded. They had reached the center of the library's main hall. Before Kieran and the professor was the main desk and computer terminal of the archives. Looking up from the desk was a young woman with light grey eyes and long silvery hair.

Slightly flustered at first, Kieran said something that sounded vaguely like, "Hiseneyousea?"

The silvery haired woman cocked her head to the side, "I'm sorry, Kieran?"

Kieran was always fascinated by Ismene Ytri. Because they both lacked talent in lightsaber combat, Kieran and Ismene, a couple of months younger than him, had taken many classes focused on honing Force ability in their earlier years. Although over time, their classes had deviated from each other to follow their studies, they had remained fairly good friends, seeing each other now and then and here and there. Kieran maintained, albeit privately, that Ismene was one of the nicest people he had ever met. She was always willing to help him and her classmates and still now always was willing to help. Lately, although they've been seeing each other less and less, Kieran had taken notice to other traits of Ismene. Her silvery hair, almost non-existent in young humans, seemed to glow in almost any light. There were certain curves to her body that Kieran did not remember from when they were children. And her eyes…

Realizing Ismene had a question, Kieran abandoned his train of thought and said, "Hi Ismene. This is Professor Yamta from Obroa-skai."

The professor pushed Kieran slightly to the side and shook Ismene hands rapidly, "Actually from the Obroan Institute, Roonadan branch."

"Nice to meet you, Professor. What can I do for you?"

"I've come looking for information on the Imperial Knights. There are no records remaining from the Empire to tell us much about them, so the Institute sent me here to see what you could find."

Ismene pursed her lips and put a finger to them. "Let me think. You could try the Force sects sections, but the status of the Imperial Knights is still very much in question. I'm not even sure what records we might have. I could bring you to my master, Agrippa Avogadro. She's the head librarian of the Academy."

"I would enjoy that very much."

Ismene hopped over the desk and directed the professor in the direction they were about to walk. "Are you coming, Kieran?"

Kieran glanced to the two droids, "I've business of my own to attend to, Ismene, but I appreciate the offer."

Ismene smiled and began to walk away. Kieran felt an impulse rise up from somewhere deep in him. Before he could stop himself, he cried out, "Ismene!"

Ismene and the professor turned to Kieran, wonderingly. Kieran blushed. He had acted on impulse. It was not the Jedi way. "I am sorry, I forgot."

The silver haired girl squinted her eyes and, seeming to read his mind, asked slyly, "Well, why don't we see if you can remember it over dinner? The Dancing Ronto, in the tourist section, tomorrow night?"

Kieran was shocked by her forwardness. Shocked, but glad. "I—um, yes! Yes, I will see you then Ismene."

Ismene flashed him a smile, and led the similarly grinning professor to speak to her master.

"Ah," reflected the professor, "to be young…"

Kieran felt a surge relief and excitement at the prospect of dinner with the historian. He then refocused, turning to the two droids and saying, "Okay Artoo-Detoo and See-Threepio, let's go."

"My goodness," said the Threepio, "You know our designations?"

Kieran began to walk in the direction of the exit of the Jedi Annals. "Yes, although you, Threepio, don't look anything like your photos. Now be quiet. It's not safe to talk here."

The tall droid did not in fact stay quiet, but given that all he was talking about was something about moisture vaporators, Kieran didn't worry too much about it.

Kieran exited the building and began the trek to the Village.

The Village was a construct of Grand Master Ben Skywalker during his days on Ossus. During the expansion of the New Jedi Order, many families had taken to buying apartments together and commuting to the temples for their daily business. When the Order relocated to Ossus, many Jedi families protested to taking up residence in the Academy's dormitories. Master Skywalker agreed to let any Jedi families who wished to build their own residence to do so.

Several families led by the then-Veila family and the Saar family constructed housing facilities about a klick out from the Temple. Over the centuries, the small settlement expanded and grew to form the Village, though in its size, it resembled more of a small city.

The Village was not the only settlement. Several more private constructions were built in other areas by some families, like the Katarns and the Sebatynes. However, the Village was the busiest. Originally outsiders were barred from the Village but within the last few decades with the arrival of several non-Force sensitive members of resident Jedi families, several off-world merchants had set up their own businesses in the Village. Although still predominately a home for Jedi families, the Village now also boosted the planet only real source of economy, other than the tourist section, and was the only way to get goods other than those belonging to the Jedi Temple.

Much like the Temple, the Village blended together both nature and technology. The roads were well paved, but the ground was dirt, not permacrete. Beyond the roads, the ground was entirely grass, but the buildings and houses were all very modern buildings. The Village seemed rather disorganized. The Jedi's central authority was at the Temple, not the Village. Many Jedi were originally worried that outsiders in the Village would try to establish an authority over the residents, but the merchants preferred not to have anyone to answer to. Because of this, those around the Village seemed to mill around without much direction except out.

Kieran Horn opted not to take the main road to the Horn home. Instead, he silently led the droids around the settlements off to the edge of the low forest. Not getting seen was easy as most of the Jedi were still going about their business around the Temple.

"Nastra?" Kieran walked along the edge of the forest, keeping areas between the buildings in site, and talked into his personal comlink. "I've found the package, and I'm right by the backdoor. Can you open it?"

"I'm opening it now." came a voice over the comlink.

Kieran edged away from the forest and to a rather large, gray colored building.

"Master Kieran, may I ask what we are doing?" asked the bronze droid.

"In a minute Threepio. Now move back, you're standing on the door."

The bronze droid looked to where he was standing and when the round began to move, quickly moved away. A green patch in the ground disappeared and was replaced by a small hole, barely big enough to fit an adult male.

The bronze droid peered over the hole, "This does not seem very safe. Oh, I do hate going underground."

Rather than listen to the protocol droid's complaints, Kieran extended his hands and pushed the droid down the hole.

"Troo-doo!"

Artoo was too round to fit down the hole. Kieran pushed Artoo carefully into the hole, which only sank until the middle of Artoo's rotund body. Kieran began to push down on Artoo. Slowly, inch by inch, Artoo began to sink farther into ground. After several minutes, a loud popping sound was heard and Artoo slipped down into the hole.

Kieran wiped the sweat off his head. Sometimes he really wished he could perform telekinesis. Unlike most Jedi, the Horn family had a deficiency in telekinesis. Many Jedi found this puzzling, as Kieran was involved in Force-focused classes. However, what many didn't realize is that just as a blind man had excellent hearing, Kieran was exceptionally proficient in other areas of the Force. Of course, even that did not help his less-than average lightsaber skills.

Kieran dropped down into the hole. Unlike Threepio's assumption, the drop was only a couple centimeters. Beneath the darkness of the hole were steps. Kieran walked down a couple of steps, not too many, until the ground was about a full meter above his head. Slowly, Kieran eyes adjusted to the darkness.

A voice came out from the darkness, "You might want to close your eyes."

Kieran did and as his eyes were closed, he could see the lights turn on through his eyelids. He reopened his eyes and had to squint because his eyes hurt in the new light.

Yellow-tinted light flooded the room. It was small, but easily accommodated everyone. Towards the far wall stood Nastra Vao, a dark blue colored Twi'lek Jedi Apprentice. He had hick eyebrows and an elongated face that seemed to stretch down and end in a blunt chin. Among other sentient, Nastra was seen as something of an oddity because of his third lekku placed directly between his normal two. Among Twi'leks, this additional head tail denoted a sign of respect. His third lek hung down carelessly, while his far left lek fell down in front of his body and his far right lek draped down his shoulder and across to the opposite shoulder, like a scarf. All three of Nastra's lekku were heavily wrapped in brown leather.

Nastra threw a small handle-like object towards Kieran, which he caught. "Grab a hydrospanner." He grimaced.

"Dooreet?" Artoo asked as Kieran began to open up several parts of Artoo's chassis.

You've been activated during a dangerous time, Artoo. There are many Jedi here who if they knew who you to were, would have you destroyed permanently."

On the other side of the small room, Threepio turned around from having his rusted chassis stripped off by Kieran. He asked nervously "Destroyed?"

"You two represent a time many Jedi don't want others to remember. Besides—" Kieran looked from the two droid to Nastra and back to the droids. "Your arrival means something big is coming. Something big enough to rock the galaxy to its very foundations."