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The Holocron
🕑 Added 2025-02-07 19:51:25 +0000 UTCOnce the bluish lines of hyperspace faded, the vast blackness of space was replaced by a new vision.
“Malachor.” I muttered, watching the dead world from the cockpit.
Even from this distance, the planet looked inhospitable. Its surface was a patchwork of gray and greenish hues, furrowed by colossal crevices and dark valleys that looked like gaping wounds in the planetary crust. There were no oceans or large expanses of water visible, just an arid terrain eroded by the passage of time.
The feeling it gave me, to put it kindly, was unsettling.
But beyond its appearance, what really disturbed me was what I perceived in the Force. Or, rather, what I did not perceive.
Malachor didn't just feel empty. It felt like a chasm in the Force, a hole in the very fabric of its natural flow. It was not simply a lifeless world, it was a place that had been brutally ripped from the Force, leaving behind a latent and perpetual wound.
It must have been caused by the Mass Shadow Generator. I thought, watching the planet grow larger as we approached its atmosphere.
“Hey, PROXY.” I called, averting my gaze to the droid, which turned its head to look at me. “What data does the ship throw up on the planet's atmosphere - is the air breathable?”
“I'm afraid not, Master. According to the ship's analysis, the atmosphere is 95.3% carbon dioxide, 2.7% nitrogen, 1.7%-”
“Ok, I understand, totally toxic and unbreathable. Noted.” I interrupted him before he went on with his endless list of technical data.
The ship continued its descent, gliding through the thick clouds that covered the planet's surface. They were heavy and murky, with an ash to sickly green color that filtered the light from the nearby star in an unnatural way, plunging everything into a constant gloom.
As we descended far enough, the surface revealed itself fully before us.
It was just what I had expected.
Fractured landscapes stretched as far as the eye could see, dotted with giant blackened ruins and time-corroded remains. Crumbling columns emerged from the earth like bones from a planetary corpse, and in the distance, ancient structures could be seen half-buried in rock. There was no sign of life, not even of recent activity.
Just a forgotten world, trapped in its own ruin.
As we searched for a place to land, a barely perceptible sensation brushed the edges of my consciousness. A presence. Small, faint, almost imperceptible... but there it was.
I closed my eyes for a moment, letting the Force guide me, allowing the darkness to flow through me like an invisible current. Slowly, I focused my perception on that distant presence. I felt my hands maneuver the ship with instinctive precision, without the need for conscious commands.
As we got closer, the sensation became sharper. There was darkness in that presence, an echo of murky energy that exuded intense emotions: anger, hatred... but also something else. Something deeper, quieter.
Pain.
Sadness.
I frowned. I hadn't expected that.
That's when I noticed the presence began to move. Fast. Too fast.
'Shit.'
I snapped my eyes open and took control of the craft again, accelerating in the direction of the signal.
I flew over klics and klics of desert terrain, a monotonous landscape of cracked earth and twisted rock formations, until I saw it.
A chasm.
At first glance, it looked like a massive collapse in the planet's surface, a hole several kilometers in diameter that was lost in unfathomable darkness. The drop was abrupt, its rock walls descending in almost vertical lines, marked by deep cracks and jagged edges that suggested an ancient collapse, perhaps caused by the catastrophe that destroyed this world.
And somewhere at the bottom, the presence was still there.
Without hesitation, I steered the ship into the abyss and began the descent.
Darkness immediately enveloped us, swallowing any trace of the surface. I turned on the searchlights, and their beams of light broke through the gloom, revealing walls of rock stretching all around us, but the depth remained indecipherable. The ship's lights were failing to reach the bottom.
'How deep is this?' I thought as I continued to plunge into the abyss.
Minutes passed as we descended. The feeling of emptiness became more oppressive, the silence more dense. For a moment, I wondered if this pit would ever end.
Then, a slight impact shook the ship.
The bow had hit something.
Carefully, I maneuvered the ship and looked for a stable area to land. The landing gear deployed with a slight mechanical screech as we landed on the surface of the abyss.
“PROXY, bring me the protective suit.”
The droid nodded and disappeared for a moment before returning with the only garment that could keep me alive down here.
The suit had come along with the ship, probably installed by Vader in case I had to operate in a hostile environment like this. Wasting no time, I removed the Tarre Vizsla armor and sheathed myself in the suit. I made sure it was fully pressurized before moving toward the ship's hatch.
A metallic hiss echoed as the ramp descended. I took a step forward and the view of the site unfolded before me.
Even with the poor visibility, I could tell that the ground was as barren and rocky as the surface, covered in a layer of fine dust that swirled with my arrival. But what caught my attention most was the fog.
It was dense, hovering in the air like a spectral curtain, obscuring what extended beyond a few meters. Now I understood why I could not see the background from the ship: this fog covered everything, enveloping the place in an almost tangible gloom.
A dead atmosphere. An absolute silence.
“PROXY, stay in the ship. I won't be long. I'll communicate with you over my ear speaker if I find anything.”
The droid nodded with his customary precision.
“Understood, master. I'll keep the ship's communicator active in case you require assistance.”
I gave him one last glance before turning toward the ramp. A slight smile crept across my face.
As soon as I set foot outside the ship, the absolute silence of the abyss enveloped me. The only company was the faint sound of my breathing inside the hull and the subtle crunch of my boots on the barren surface.
The gravity was surprisingly normal, similar to that of Coruscant or Lothal. I felt neither the lightness of low-mass worlds nor the oppression of denser ones. At least it made movement easier.
As I moved away, the light from the ship's searchlights began to fade, swallowed by the thick haze that covered the abyss. I soon switched on the flashlight attached to the suit.
A beam of light cut through the darkness.
The terrain was uneven and eroded, as if ancient lava flows had sculpted it into chaotic shapes. Sharp rocks jutted out like the teeth of an extinct animal, and at certain points, the ground showed deep cracks, gaps that seemed bottomless.
As I moved forward, I sensed something.
It wasn't just the presence I had detected from the ship... it was something else. Something ancient, buried under layers of oblivion and time.
My steps became more cautious.
It was then that I saw it.
Through the haze, I barely made out what appeared to be a structure. At first glance, it looked like just another rock formation, but as I got closer, I noticed the symmetry in its lines, the shape too precise to be natural.
An entrance.
The structure emerged from the stone itself, as if it had been carved directly into the planet. The passage of millennia had worn away its walls, but it still retained an imposing air. The entrance was wide, with an arch of stone blackened by time. On its walls, barely visible under the erosion, there were worn inscriptions, strange symbols that I did not immediately recognize.
I approached, sliding my gloved fingers over the cold surface of the stone. I couldn't help but notice that the Force felt strange in this place. It wasn't simply the absence I had sensed in Malachor as a whole... it was something different. Something more... concentrated.
I couldn't tell if the place was abandoned or if whatever it was that dwelled here still lurked in its shadows.
I exhaled slowly and took a step inside. The temperature dropped immediately.
My boots echoed softly against the stone floor, the echo lingering in the dense air of the enclosure. The interior was vast, a high-ceilinged corridor lost in the gloom. The walls were covered with inscriptions similar to those at the entrance, though here they were sharper, protected from external erosion.
I did not recognize the writing. It was not Aurebesh, nor classic Sith.
I advanced cautiously.
The corridor led into a huge circular chamber. The first thing I noticed was its magnitude: dozens of columns rose up until they were lost in the darkness of the ceiling, like the remains of an ancient temple. In the center, a large, weathered symbol was embedded in the floor.
I bent down, running my hand over its surface.
Suddenly, I saw it, a crimson light began to illuminate the chamber from a corner, as if it had sensed my presence.
I approached this one, little by little, step by step, until I finally got close enough to see it.
'A Sith holocron?' I thought with confusion, as I watched the shape of the small pyramid still exuding that bright crimson light.
Although I felt a presence here, I doubted it had been this, the presence I felt was moving and also exuded very intense emotions, this holocron instead, strangely I could feel almost nothing of it, its imprint on the force could be compared to the haze of the abyss, although I had it in front of me I could not manage to identify it completely, as if the holocron was almost as if disconnected from the Force, which was impossible....
I quickly examined the chamber, making sure there was no one else. The only presence here was mine... or so I thought.
The holocron in my hand glowed with a faint crimson light, its intricately carved lines reflecting the dim lighting in the room. I barely had time to analyze it when a voice tore through the silence.
“Find what you are looking for?”
The unexpected sound caused me to nearly trip over one of the nearby columns. I managed to keep my balance, but my body tensed, and my fingers closed tighter around the holocron.
My eyes scanned the room, searching for the owner of the voice. No one.
My gaze returned to the holocron. It was still glowing. I exhaled slowly and spoke:
“Who are you?” I asked, not hiding the wariness in my tone. “Are you the creator of this holocron?”
“Yes. I tried to reach out to you unconsciously, however, that didn't work. So I had to get your attention in another way.”
The voice was that of a woman, but not just any woman. She sounded older, but not frail, there was a weight to her, a presence that transcended mere age.
“I get it... I guess.” I turned the holocron over in my hands, looking at it more closely. “But that doesn't answer my question. Who are you, are you the creator of this place?”
“No, this place isn't of my making, though I can't say I haven't been here.”
The answer left me at the same point as before.
“Okay. What about you, what's your name?”
There was a pause before the voice answered.
“I am but a mirror whose only purpose is to show you what your own eyes can not yet see.”
I frowned.
“A mirror?” I repeated quietly. “What does that mean?”
“It means that I am nothing but a reflection, an echo of knowledge long past, waiting to be found by those who still seek answers.”
Her tone was leisurely, almost didactic, as if she was assessing my reactions.
“If you are a reflection...” I pondered his words for a moment. “You're just a record, then?”
“In a way.”
I didn't like the evasiveness in her tone.
“If you're just an echo, why can you talk to me? Holocrons are information banks, not living things.”
“Ah, but knowledge is not something lifeless. Wisdom is not simply an accumulation of data, it is the interpretation of it, the understanding of what it means. And that... that requires thought.”
I took a deep breath, trying not to be frustrated by her cryptic tone.
“Okay, so tell me something more tangible - why did you make this holocron?”
“To preserve that which others sought to erase. History is but the battlefield of memory, and the victors decide which fragments remain. But some of us... we refuse to be forgotten.”
That got my attention.
“The Empire? Was it they who tried to erase what you knew?”
“I do not know to which ‘empire’ you refer but by your exclamarion, I can only assume the Empire is but the latest in a long line of would-be conquerors. Ignorance is not just a weapon of conquest... it is the scourge of every age. Jedi, Sith, Republics, Empires... all have silenced that which did not suit them.”
I narrowed my eyes.
“You don't seem to have much appreciation for the Jedi or the Sith.”
“Do you?”
Her response was quick. Too quick.
I didn't respond right away.
“Tell me, boy,” the voice in the holocron continued, with a hint of curiosity, ”do you believe that power is what defines the fate of the galaxy?”
That question made me uncomfortable. It was the kind of question Vader would never have allowed me to consider.
“Power is all that matters.” I said at last, almost instinctively.
There was silence.
“So you were taught. And tell me... have you found peace in that knowledge?”
I didn't answer.
Because the truth was that I didn't know.
“What does it matter? Power is what has kept me alive so far, without power people close to me or myself would have died on several occasions, so I do believe that power defines my destiny and that of the Galaxy.”
“And what will you do when your power is not enough?”
The holocron's voice was serene, but her words struck with the precision of a vibroblade.
I frowned.
“Then I'll have to get stronger.”
“How much longer, how much longer?”
I gritted my teeth.
“As long as it takes.”
“And what happens when you discover that the strength of your muscles or the edge of your saber is not enough? When victory depends not on how strong you are, but on something else you don't yet understand?”
I didn't answer right away.
“Power is not just brute strength.” I replied at last. “Knowledge is power. Cunning, strategy... all of that is power too.”
“Ah, so you understand.” The voice sounded pleased, but not in the way I would have liked. “And tell me, which do you think is more dangerous...the man with the sharper saber...or the one who knows when he doesn't need to draw it?”
I didn't like the direction of this conversation.
“What is your point?”
“My point is that those who seek power for fear of losing it are doomed to be its slaves. You say that power has kept you alive, but...is life what you've been living?”
I couldn't help but tense up.
“What are you trying to say?”
“You have fought. You have survived. You've obeyed.” The voice paused, giving me space to consider its words. “But have you chosen? Have you ever followed a path that wasn't imposed on you by others?”
The shadows of the chamber seemed to lengthen around me.
“I don't have the luxury of choice.” I replied with a hint of harshness in my voice. “The galaxy is not a tale of heroes and villains. It's survive or be destroyed.”
“What if I told you there was another way?”
“Then I'd think you were just like the Jedi with their illusory peace.”
“You think I'm talking about peace?” The voice sounded almost amused. “No, boy. Peace is a delusion, just like conflict. What I seek is not peace, but understanding.”
I frowned.
“Understanding of what?”
“Of the nature of all things.”
There was a moment of silence.
“If you are not Jedi, and you are not Sith... what are you?”
“Someone who saw beyond their dogmas and lived to tell the tale.”
“And this understanding? What good would it do me?” I asked in a more diplomatic tone.
The holocron was silent for a moment, as if measuring my words.
“It depends on what you seek.” She finally replied. “Understanding can set you free... or shackle you further. It can show you paths you didn't see before, but also destroy the certainties on which you've based your existence.”
I frowned.
“You speak as if the truth is a punishment.”
“Because for many it is.” The voice sounded almost... melancholy. “Knowledge without wisdom is a burden. And I have seen many be crushed by its weight.”
I said nothing.
“But tell me...do you have the will to carry it?”
I took a deep breath.
“If knowledge empowers me, then yes.”
The holocron let out what might have been a dry laugh.
“We always come back to power with you, don't we?”
I pursed my lips, but did not respond.
“So tell me, if you seek power... why do you doubt?”
“Doubt what?” I asked, frowning.
“Of what you are. Of what you have done. You feel the shadow of every life you've taken, of every order you've followed without question. You say that power defines your destiny, but... have you ever really decided what to do with it?”
My expression hardened.
How could it know that?
I lightly squeezed the holocron between my fingers, feeling the weight of his words. The possibility that she was simply guessing crossed my mind, but...no, her tone was too certain
“And what choice did I have?” I replied, unable to hide the distrust in my voice.
“There are always choices, boy.”
“That's a lie.” I retorted harshly. “I have experienced firsthand what it means to be trapped in the will of others. The Emperor, Vader, the Jedi... they all think they own the fate of others. They all think they know what's best for the galaxy.”
I eyed the holocron warily.
“But you already knew I would say that, didn't you?”
“It is not difficult to predict the thinking of someone who has lived in chains.”
I gritted my teeth.
“I'm not chained.”
“No?” The voice sounded almost amused. “You say that power has kept you alive. That without it, you would have died. But tell me, what have you really lived for? For whom?”
I opened my mouth to answer... but stopped myself.
“My life is mine.” I replied finally, with less certainty than I wanted to show.
“And what have you done with it that was really your decision?”
My fingers twitched around the holocron. I didn't like where this conversation was going.
“You have a lot of questions, but few answers.” I said, looking to change course.
“Answers don't matter if the right question is never asked.”
I exhaled in frustration.
“And what is the right question?”
“The one you're afraid to ask yourself.”
That last comment hit me harder than I wanted to admit.
I watched the holocron with cold eyes.
I remained silent.
“You seek power so you won't be a tool... but the more you chase it, the more shackled you become.”
I eyed the holocron warily.
“And what do you propose?”
“That you learn to see.”
“See what?”
“What it really means to be free.”
Silence stretched between us as my thoughts whirled around in my mind, tangling with every memory, with every order followed without question, with every path laid out by alien hands.
My whole life had been shaped by the will of others. First, that of Vader, his brutal training and imposed purpose. Then, that of the Jedi, Kanan and Ezra, with their speeches of Rebellion and hope. Even Hera, with her righteous cause, had pushed me in a direction I never fully chose.
And worst of all, I never resisted.
I was a soldier, an assassin, a tool... And every time I thought I had found my own will, it was just another illusion, another road paved by someone else.
I clenched my fists.
“If I've always been in a cage...” I muttered, more to myself than to the voice. “How am I supposed to learn what freedom means?”
“I can't teach you how to be free. That's something only you can discover.”
Her answer was no surprise. But then, why did I feel a pang of frustration?
I took a breath. “But can you show me the way?”
“I can give you the tools. The knowledge. But the path, boy, is yours to walk.”
I looked at the holocron in my hand. Its dim glow barely illuminated my gloved palm, a glimmer of what lay within.
My training with Vader had been pain and discipline. With Kanan and the others, it was sacrifice for a greater purpose. But this... this seemed something else.
A shadow of doubt crossed my mind. What if it was just another deception? Another trap disguised as a revelation?
But deep down, a part of me had already made up my mind.
“Then teach me, master.”
The holocron seemed to glow brighter.
“Very well.”
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Orion Chung
It’s time for Galen to walk the road of Grey Jedi
