Hyperspace receded in a flash of white as the Negotiator emerged above Coruscant. The gleaming planet stretched below like a sea of metal and light, its endless cityscape glittering under the glow of a thousand skylanes. Kaelen stood beside Obi-Wan on the observation deck, watching the familiar world drift nearer.
"You did well during the Malevolence campaign," Obi-Wan said quietly, hands folded behind his back. "But what you accomplished… that ability you displayed—"
Kaelen swallowed. "Battle meditation."
"Perhaps," Obi-Wan replied, though his tone held more caution than certainty. "Or perhaps something similar. Either way, we need clarity."
Kaelen nodded, though unease prickled at him. "I didn't try to do it. It just happened."
"That's what concerns me. Uncontrolled power can be more dangerous than a controlled weapon." Obi-Wan exhaled. "We'll consult the Archives. If there's anything to learn, it will be there."
But as Kaelen watched Coruscant swell larger in the viewport, the feeling gripping him wasn't excitement — it was dread.Like the calm before a storm from a forgotten age.
The Archives
The Jedi Temple smelled of ancient stone and polished metal, its quiet halls echoing with the faint hum of repulsors lifting holocrons and data crystals. Kaelen followed Obi-Wan into the Archives, where Jocasta Nu greeted them with her customary warm-but-sharp gaze.
"Looking for something specific, Master Kenobi?" she asked.
"We're searching for any references to 'battle meditation,' 'mass Force influence,' or similar abilities," Obi-Wan explained.
Her brows rose. "A rare inquiry. I don't recall such techniques being used in… well, in any documented modern era."
Kaelen's heart thudded. Of course. The Jedi had scrubbed their own history clean during the old purges and reforms. That much Yoda had hinted.
They sifted through row after row of data. Obi-Wan accessed encrypted historical logs — fragmented chronologies of the Jedi Order, the Republic, and the wars it survived.
Kaelen opened a thousand-year-old tactical treatise. Nothing.
He searched early Republic archives. Nothing.
He accessed pre-Ruusan scrolls. Nothing but half-erased myths.
Hours passed. Obi-Wan's calm demeanor slowly melted into frustration.
Jocasta Nu returned, concern creeping into her voice for the first time in decades. "Master Kenobi… young one… I'm sorry, but there's simply nothing here. Whatever you seek… the Order erased those records long ago."
Kaelen exhaled hard. "Why? Why erase knowledge that could help Jedi bring peace?"
"Because," Jocasta said quietly, "there were times in our past where the Jedi sought to control entire armies with the Force. Times of… questionable judgment."
Obi-Wan exchanged a look with her — an unspoken acknowledgment of their Order's hidden shadows.
And that was when Kaelen felt it.
The Force surged — not a whisper, not an echo, but a tidal wave of memory slamming into him.
His vision blurred. The Temple dissolved.
The Vision — Dantooine
Kaelen stood on a grassy plain beneath lavender skies. Wind rushed through tall savanna grass, carrying the scent of wildflowers and distant stone.
Ahead of him rose a complex of ancient architecture — circular, weathered, and quiet.The Dantooine Enclave.Centuries old.Destroyed.Forgotten.
Yet in the vision, it stood unbroken.
Figures in brown and gray robes moved inside, their faces blurred. He felt echoes of teaching halls, meditation chambers, the hum of lightsabers igniting in training.A thousand voices — Jedi, Padawans, Masters — whispering through time.
Knowledge buried.Secrets sealed.A legacy waiting.
Then the sky darkened.A masked figure turned toward him — the same red-and-black mask from his earliest visions.Its presence hit like a hammer.
"History repeats. And the Force remembers."
A shock ran through him.
He gasped——and collapsed onto the Archive floor.
Obi-Wan knelt beside him instantly. "Kaelen! Are you hurt?"
Kaelen blinked, sweat cold on his skin. "Dantooine," he whispered. "An enclave. Whole. Alive. Like it was in the Old Republic."
Jocasta Nu's breath caught. "Dantooine? The old Enclave? It was destroyed long before our time, young one. There's nothing left but ruins."
Kaelen shook his head. "The Force showed me something there. Something important. Something… waiting."
Obi-Wan placed a steadying hand on his shoulder. "Then we go."
Departure
Their cruiser streaked through hyperspace, engines humming like distant thunder. Kaelen sat in meditation but found no peace. The vision replayed over and over — the shifting grass, the ancient halls, the masked figure at the end.
Obi-Wan watched him quietly from across the cabin. "You're certain this wasn't just another dream?"
"It felt older," Kaelen whispered. "Like the Force wasn't showing me the past. Or the future. But… a place between."
Obi-Wan nodded slowly. "I trust your instincts. But I want you to remember something: visions can be manipulated. The Sith are masters of bending perception."
Kaelen swallowed. "This didn't feel like the Dark Side. It felt… calling."
Before Obi-Wan could reply, the console beeped."Exiting hyperspace," came the pilot's voice.
The stars snapped back into existence — and Dantooine loomed ahead, green and gold beneath a gentle sun.
Kaelen inhaled sharply. "It looks exactly like the vision."
"Maybe," Obi-Wan murmured. "Or maybe the Force is simply showing you what you need to see."
The Enclave Ruins
The ship touched down on a grassy field near the crumbling stone foundations of the old Enclave. Wind swept across the plains in wide waves.
Kaelen stepped forward, boots sinking softly into soil. His heart hammered.
Obi-Wan examined a broken pillar. "These stones haven't stood in centuries. Whatever your vision showed you… it wasn't this."
"I know." Kaelen pressed a hand to the weathered stone. "But the Force brought us here for a reason."
The wind shifted.A low hum vibrated beneath the earth — soft, rhythmic, like a heartbeat hidden in stone.
Obi-Wan froze. "Did you feel that?"
Kaelen nodded. "Something's beneath us."
They followed the vibration to an unmarked spot between two shattered columns. Kaelen knelt, brushing away dirt and grass until metal glinted beneath.
A circular hatch.Ancient.Buried.
Obi-Wan stepped beside him. "There's no record of any sub-levels here."
"Maybe they erased those too," Kaelen whispered.
Obi-Wan ignited his lightsaber and traced a perfect circle. The metal hissed and fell inward with a clang.
A thin stairway descended into darkness.
A cold wind rose up from below — carrying with it the faint scent of dust…
…and something else.
Something alive.
Kaelen stepped toward the opening.
Obi-Wan held out an arm. "Careful. We don't know what's down there."
Kaelen swallowed. "No… but the Force does."
He took a breath—
—and descended into the darkness.
Obi-Wan followed.
The air grew colder, heavier, the kind of silence that smothered sound. Their sabers ignited, casting blue and purple light down the narrow passage.
At the bottom, the hall opened into a vast underground chamber — untouched by time.
Kaelen froze.
Obi-Wan whispered, "By the Force…"
In the center of the room…
A holocron floated.Black metal.Crimson lines.A design neither Jedi nor Sith…
…but something older.
The air trembled.
Kaelen took a step—
—and the holocron snapped open on its own.
A voice filled the chamber, layered and echoing, as if spoken by more than one person.
"At last. A descendant returns."
Kaelen's heart stopped.
Obi-Wan's eyes widened.
The holocron's red light swelled—
And the chamber doors slammed shut behind them.