Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

[The Present – Somewhere in the Outer Rim]

It hurts now and again. Far less than it did years ago, but the stinging feeling rippling across the phantom space struck F’s senses with that same old pain.

With a quiet click, her left prosthetic leg latched onto her person. The Jedi takes a sharp breath right as the surface of her robotic legs begins to blur before her eyes, as if these thin spaces of reality warp. To an outsider’s eyes, it was as if a shower of particles rained over F’s legs until eventually it was like she had her old legs again.

They weren’t, of course, and F has long since grappled and accepted that. These weren’t her old limbs, just as she is not her old self, but she didn’t view these new limbs as any lesser, just as she doesn’t see who she is now as any lesser. She’s changed, adapted, and eventually found a newfound happiness in her new life despite the many forces in this galaxy trying to say otherwise.

Yet, the old pain lingers like a scar, and F wonders at times if she could find true inner peace and the consequences for others if she doesn’t.

“Master!”

A young voice cries from the other side of her chamber door. F rises from her bed, covering her eyes from the morning sunlight beaming through the window of her personal quarters. Made of cobblestone, wood, and tile, her chambers make a humble abode, with as many old scrolls and tools as there are plants and knick-knacks collected from her years of travel.

Shuffling through the room, F starts to truly wake up as she grabs herself warm tea and opens the door. With a squint of her eyes, F finds her student, no older than nine, at the foot of her door.

“Padawan,” F yawned, “you finished your routine already? It’s barely dawn.”

“Yep, and the faeirlas are still fresh. The dew is still on them,” the young Padawan said, holding up a bundle of flowers native to the faeir mountain range, which can only be found in steep portions of the side facing the valley. F smiles as she gently grabs the flowers, which smell as fresh as they looked. Her Padawan is as vigorous as always, especially whenever on a quest to accomplish the latest mission F gives them. Why, even the way they wield the training stick recalls memories of F’s younger years—a more innocent, civilized time.

“Oh,” her Padawan exclaimed, as if they just remembered, “and today’s visitors, master. Tee-two picked up and recognized a friendly signal just now.”

How could she forget, F wondered to herself as she nodded and said, “Thank you, Padawan. If you don’t mind, would you please work with Tee-two to finish preparing our temple for our guests? It’ll be your last task of the day.”

“Okay,” the Padawan said with a nod. “And what will you be doing till then?”

“I already have most of everything ready; I just have my usual personal matters to attend to.”

Her Padawan peeked inside before it dawned on them what F meant. “Oooh. Wait, does that mean I get to read them soon!”

“Maaaybe,” F said with a chuckle.

“Don’t let me slow you down then, master,” the Padawan said, their feet tapping with enthusiasm. “Tee-two and I will have the temple spotless when you arrive. I promise,” they said before jubilantly rushing away on the cobble path, towards the distant hill where F and her Padawan’s personal temple resides.

“So proud,” F said to herself, watching her student, happy and safe here and away from the eyes of the dark. Her eyes looked down at her reflection in the tea, a distant look in her blue eyes as she whispered, “You must’ve thought the same, too. Right, master?”

F steps back, closing the red door behind her as her gaze is drawn to the stone staircase at the back of her quarters. Finishing her tea, F grabs her cloak before ascending the steps of a small tower, about a few feet higher than her personal chambers.

At the top was a simple oval-shaped observation space, where one could see the misty mountains and hear the echoes of the jungles below. Underneath the dozen windows were neatly organized stacks of writings, and at the center of the room was a small, old wooden table with a fresh block of stone and blocks on top.

F saw the luminescent ink to her left was full, and the brush right before her, waiting for its user. Kneeling on a red pillow, F uses the blocks to brush the smooth stone’s surface before grabbing the brush, the tip of which has a fresh coat of ink.

Her brush hovers over the stone in hesitation; she’s been up all night trying to find the right words. It’s just one of many nights she’s had ever since she began. She was so close to finishing, yet the beginning of it all remains ever challenging to approach.

Yet, amid this self-doubt, she feels she must gather the bravery to write. Otherwise nobody else will, and this story MUST be told.

So, for this crucial task infront of her, F lets the Force guide her hand.

Glowing text began to appear on the slab. It read:

It was the last years of the grand republic, when peace should’ve been more cherished and when the hope of a bright future still seemed possible.

In a distant world, I was born a nameless child. No guardian to give me one, and no home sheltered me. My name was a name only the abandoned could have, from a child who couldn’t write it, couldn’t read it, but was given the minor miracle to speak it. My name is F, and for years, it seemed my story was already over before it could begin. A lost, wandering speck doomed to be alone in a universe built by the power of forces that bonded everyone together.

My story truly began only when this imperceptible Force of our universe bonded me to another. My master. My teacher. My guardian angel, Shad-Rah Varcanella.

The unfathomable cruelty of the Purge made it so that you will find no record of him if you search for this name. Those who knew him can only piece together so much of his story. Shad-Rah rarely told anyone, even me, much of his life. It’s a puzzle I’ve yet to solve or fully accept as unsolvable. Was he simply just quiet about it? Figuring his life story to be uninteresting to a young, reckless padawan like me? Was he afraid of it? Or, perhaps, Ashamed?

It’s with this precedent that I hope to explain why I begin where I begin. Why this tale is but another upon an endless line of dangling strands at the corners of the grand tapestry that is the galaxy. It is another valuable lesson on the preciousness and power of memories, history, and stories.

How, sometimes, why we do anything in the first place is because of the paths opened by those before us.

It began a long, long time ago at the capital of the galaxy. Deep inside the grand halls of the great temple, a Jedi Master was on his way to an important mission….”

Thank you for reading! Hope you all enjoyed.

Chapter Text

[32 BBY – Jedi Grand Temple, Courscant]

Another sleepless night of dreams and nightmares. The line between them blurs the more they occur. In these times, something out there is ready to trouble one’s mind.

For an age of galactic peace, there is no shortage of small and big troubles for the Jedi to sort out.

Senatorial mishandling, corporations, outbreaks, border disputes, food shortages, and even kidnappings were one thing. The rise of underworld violence, slavery, the spice crisis, corruption, and even local wars were other issues.

Even for a seasoned Knight, conducting and completing numerous challenging missions over a short period of time can be exhausting to the body and mind. Nonetheless, these adventures and crucial missions are a vital component of a young Jedi’s growth, and a key method for a Master to present unique challenges for their Padawan.

For Jedi Master Shar-Rah, he’s at the point in his long life where adventure seems more tiring than exciting.

The days of the High Republic are long since over, especially since the peaceful passing of Master Vernestra Rwoh. Since then, Shad-Rah feels a tinge of melancholy at times, not helped by all the reports coming in. Things in the galaxy are growing darker with rising violence, while those with power are becoming more hostile toward any desire for change. The Republic is riddled with so much controversy that keeping track of it makes even a Jedi like him dizzy.

Even the Order, which he loves to his very core, feels like its spirit is diminishing. Perhaps it’s partially why he’s devoted these past several years to managing and improving the Jedi academy. To such a degree that even his fellow Jedi suggests he gets some fresh air from time to time.

Shad-Rah supposes he sees their point. He’s gone on only a handful of missions in the past few years, either on peace or diplomatic missions. A part of him does miss those days when he was a knight, when it seemed like every day presented some new adventure. A Jedi should fully put their heart into any task in front of them. Shad-Rah, unfortunately, feels as if his own heart just isn’t as strong as it once was.

In any case, Shad-Rah is too busy burying himself with new, more important responsibilities. Why, even now as he crossed through the long corridor of the temple’s brightly colored veranda, the calm and collected Shad-Rah is quite literally surrounded by many responsibilities.

“Master Varcanella,” a Pantoran youngling said. He and his Rodian friend are trying to keep up with Shad-Rah’s brisk pace.

“Shad-Rah is fine, young ones,” he muttered, staring at the datapad in his arms.

“Whatever. Can Shu & I start our trials next week?”

“No,” he swiftly said. Right as they were gonna ask why, Shad-Rah swiped through his datapad and showed the younglings their recent academy records. Their last training mission on Valo ended… not ideally, to say the least.

The younglings run past Shad-Rah, who was walking at a brisk pace, and cupped their cheeks as they pleaded with their adorable eyes. “Pleeease?”

Shad-Rah responded by flipping through his datapad and showing their clan schedule. They were already late for their next lessons. The younglings gasped and scurried off to their class.

A moment later, Shad-Rah is approached by a Wookie Padawan. “Master Varcanella,” she roared in Shyriiwook, bowing her head.

“Shad-Rah is fine, padawan,” he growled in Shyriiwook, a language he learned in his first year. Shad-Rah viewed that a proper Jedi of the Order must grow to have a tongue of a thousand languages.

“I just need some advice on a Delta-12 skysprite. I need to upgrade it for a mission my master gave me, but I can’t find the parts no matter who I—"

“A zeta-class stabilizer and the A-20 motivator, right?” Shar-Rah growled. “Search up a mechanic named Elo Shatori. Their shop is in the Bindai district. They have everything you need.”

“You’re a lifesaver, Master!” the wookie sighed with relief and dashed away towards the hangars.

Two seconds later, a Togruta padawan with stained robes ran up to him. “Master Varcanella,” she said, gasping for breath.

“Shad-Rah is fine,” he sighed.

“We have a situation in the Dining Hall. Quie got into an argument again, then suddenly food started to fly—”

 Shad-Rah tapped his datapad a few times. “Master Gera is already on her way,” he said, “she’ll make those responsible consult about their issues before assigning them clean-up duties. Now, young one, go to the Temple’s Linen stores and request fresh robes for you and your companions.

“Right away, master.”

Suddenly, in a nice change of pace, the next Jedi who approached Shad-Rah was a Tholothian knight. “Master Varcanella,” he said.

“Yes, fine,” he sighed.

“I’m in the middle of documenting the diet of this new species of Krakavora. If I may access the Archive’s section on—"

“You may. I suggest asking Nu for Master Lyssa Votz’s research papers on Aeos Prime’s wildlife.”

“Can always count on you, Master,” he smiled, hurrying towards the library.

To an outsider, this seems like an overwhelming job to deal with every day. Shad-Rah believes a Jedi can make a routine out of anything, even if it’s taxing. He’s also become a bit of an expert on forming bonds with many Jedi; it helps in pinpointing the heart of any dilemma they’re facing, and how to help resolve it. On top of all that, Shad-Rah didn’t mind because he liked to be dependable.

So dependable in fact that he couldn’t say no to a sudden request from members of the High Council, which he was on his way to now. Just as Shad-Rah was approaching his destination, the south-west corner of the temple, he was approached by a Mon Calamari Master. “Shad-Rah,” he said.

“That’s different,” Shad-Rah said to himself.

“Thongla Jur and I are arranging a meeting with senators from the committee for education next month. They’re re-evaluating their strategy on junior education programs in the mid-rim, and have also heard of your reputation—”

“I’ll be there on time,” Shad-Rah promised, recording the date into his datapad. “I also request a caf for my drink. Sparian, with light cream.”

“I foresee you’re going to need it,” the Jedi chuckled before leaving Shad-Rah be.

After this stream of duties was tossed onto him and swiftly dealt with, the Jedi Master approached the doors of the meeting chamber and caught his breath. ‘A Jedi’s duty is never done,’ he thought, ‘And helping each other is what the galaxy needs more of.’ He inhales sharply before entering the chamber. Unsurprisingly, he’s met with a few familiar faces.

“You’re early,” the wise, diligent Mace Windu said. He sat with Master Yaddle, whose eyes were closed as she was deep in thought, and Master Plo Koon, who was looking out the window.

“A Jedi always is,” Shad-Rah replied, putting on his usual warm smile. He’s quietly surprised to find that whatever matter this is about has the attention of three council members. He was anticipating Plo Koon or perhaps Adi Gallia, but Mace and Yaddle being here changes the mood. This goes even further upon the first question asked of him by Plo Koon.

"How are you these days?" Shad-Rah's head flinched at the question, and while he kept his smile, he preferred to answer with just a nod. "Master Luminara noted you been more silent again. In your chambers more often. If you wish to share-"

"I'm..." Shad-Rah spoke, the bangs of his silver white hair covering his eyes as he put his hands behind him. "Counting the days, getting by, keeping busy." He looks up, giving them the same content, warm expression he tries to give to every Jedi he meets. He hides his quivering right hand and gazes at the room. “Only three? And here I was worrying about a big audience.”

“The blockade of Naboo,” Mace mentioned, “like half of the Republic, it’s demanding our attention.”

“For us, it’s been days of speeches to the public and meetings with political figures,” Plo Koon explained, “calling for the end of this meaningless cruelty. At the very least, a request for an open lane to address the threat of hunger.”

Shad-Rah nods, sharing his concern. “Have Qui-gon and his padawan reached the planet yet?”

“They should be coming out of hyperspace soon,” Plo Koon answered.

“I trust the Force will help them end this by tomorrow,” Shad-Rah said optimistically. “I saw them studiously researching the dilemma in the library before they left. Valorum couldn’t have picked a better pair.”

Shad-Rah’s smile and words were genuine, but his attitude hid a quiet worry. Shad-Rah believed that, even in the best circumstances, a Jedi must be prepared for any unforeseen forces, especially if those forces are scheming in the shadows.

“After these past few days, your optimism is welcomed, Shad-Rah.” All eyes in the chamber turned towards Master Yaddle; her voice, which had already carried confidence, now possessed an air of curiosity and worry. “However, this isn’t about them or Naboo,” she said, her eyes wide open and locked on Shad-Rah.

She nods towards Plo Koon, who, through his deep ties with the Force, closes all the window shutters. The chamber is blanketed in darkness until a giant blue, glowing hologram of the galaxy manifests before Shad-Rah. He steps through it, the blue hues brushing over his white robes, gazing at its complexity and all the countless stars it shows.

“This is…” he whispered. His assumption is correct when thousands of green dots glow across the galactic map, each marking the location of a known force-sensitive. The future of the Jedi, of their force sect kin, and of the whole galaxy. Shad-Rah knows this because it is his and his council’s duty to ensure this never falls into the wrong hands.

“We’ve captured an anomaly,” Mace reveals. “Jocasta Nu brought forward this fragment of memory she stumbled upon just yesterday, deep within the holocron chambers.”

“Yes,” Shad-Rah murmured, stroking his chin. “Kelleran Beq and I confirmed a child in Taanab just a week ago.” He shrugged his shoulders, unsure of where this anomaly was.

With a wave of his hand, Plo Koon switched the hologram to another memory fragment. Everything was the same, Shad-Rah figured, until he caught something in the corner of his eye. He glances up and sees a single red dot at the fringes of the western reaches, a dot that shouldn’t be there.

“Caretaker Shad-Rah,” Yaddle said, “have you, or anyone in your council, altered the memory crystal at all to cause this?”

Plo Koon further asked, “Is it possible that what we're seeing is merely a glitch?”

Despite this inquiry into alternative explanations for this anomaly, the expert himself, Shad-Rah, can only shake his head. Stunned, he whispered, “What’s the meaning of this?”

The High Council members share a look, with Mace saying, “We’ve hoped you’d help shine some light on this matter.”

Shad-Rah shuts his eyes, rubbing his forehead as he tries to recall any information related to this. “The crystal,” he muttered, “last time this occurred was back in the old republic. When we were only a few, and our future was at risk of vanishing.”

“I don’t recall this event,” Plo Koon commented.

“That’s because it’s a legend," he clarified. "A story of hope and perseverance that knights would share with kids." The more Shad-Rah ruminated on this, the further his confusion turned to intrigue. He always was a scholar at heart, and the council sees this. His ruby eyes widen as he hovers his hand under the red dot. "What we’re seeing, my friends, is something right out of legend: the Force guiding us to a force-sensitive we could never have found ourselves.”

“And you are certain of this?” Mace posited.

“Indeed, my friends. In the many cycles since I've held this position, I've never seen this happen." Indeed, his deep voice carried an immense certainty as he spoke. The only piece of this new puzzle he finds missing is the why. This is a peculiar phenomenon, one that caught highly inquisitive Jedi masters off guard. What is this truly a sign of? Where is this path leading towards? Why here, of all places in the galaxy?

For now, the last question stuck with Shad-Rah. In fact, as he looked closer at the uncharted sector the dots are located in, he finds something familiar about it. The council asks him what he's looking at just as Shad-Rah pulls out his datapad to access and scroll through specific files in the archives. "Look closer at where this is.” The council members’ eyes fix on the spot Shad-Rah pointed to, not on the dot itself but on the area around it. Shad-Rah stops at a specific record, an old one, and holds it up next to the hologram.

"Those are the same constellations," Plo Koon observed.

“The same ones recorded from the High Republic era," Shad-Rah said. "This isn’t just some empty pocket of space. This is the Ophuchi system.”

Mace leaned his chin on his knuckles, asking, “Why does this name ring familiar?”

Shad-Rah proceeds to explain, “because my friend, this is a system that’s remained lost for centuries. Encountered only a few times since their first meeting with the Republic around four hundred and fifty years ago.” Shad-Rah recalls that the Ophuchi system may have ties dating back even further. Theoretically, they could be part of the Old Republic, but he's trying to stick to more grounded facts to keep the council's attention.

Mace follows up with another question. “I understand many crises occurred since then, but how did this whole system end up lost then?”

“Well, this is mainly conjecture and dead-end theories," Shad-Rah emphasized, "but it's suspected this was once a thriving world, a rarity at the time to find in the Western Reaches. It was this close to joining the Republic until one day, poof, all communications vanished. Even the best republic prospectors, explorers, and so forth couldn't reach them again. There are theories as to why, but none are particularly substantial. Some theorize the Nihil crisis, natural disaster, and internal conflicts. Anyone’s guess, in the end.”

Showing this side of his deep knowledge of galactic history, even the more obscure subjects slowly build confidence in the Council that they picked the right Jedi for this. "Sounds like you have all the knowledge needed for this predicament, Shad-Rah," Plo Koon acknowledged. 

Shad-Rah, however, shakes his head. "I'd say I have most of the knowledge, but not all. If you want a true expert on the esoteric side of exploration, you should try old Valco Vaan."

"Your old partner?" Yaddle said. "Been a good while since you brought him up, Shad-Rah."

Mace asked, "Do you believe his findings can be reliable?"

"For the most part. He can be eccentric, even at his current age, but he's rarely been wrong." Valco Vaan. At times, one of the smartest men Shad-Rah has ever met, and other times the craziest. The two became acquainted when Valco was charting out his first dangerous expedition, not what you usually see from a fresh academy graduate. Valco knew how to sweet-talk because he somehow convinced this fresh, new Jedi Master to join. Shad-Rah tried to tell himself it was to make sure the poor man would die in some damned-fool idealistic quest to a new world. By the end, Valco never forgot the look on Shad-Rah's face when all his charts and theories proved true.

The two have been close ever since. There were previous good men before, but Valco was Shad-Rah's first real test on attachments.

With a soft smile, Shad-Rah said, "He's explored more worlds and star systems over the past decade than any other explorer I know of. He's vowed to rediscover worlds that sound like they're out of legend: Tanaloor, Had Abbadon, At Attin, and such. The Ophuchi system is one of them, a bit of an obsession, you can say." 

Yaddle sat back in her seat. “And only now, by pure circumstance, we’re suddenly shown a force-sensitive on this once lost system.” She sighed, marveling at the situation. “The Force works in strange ways indeed.”

Mace tests his fellow Jedi words, asking, "How much do you trust Valco with this information? On finding a way to this anomaly."

"Speaking truthfully," Shad-Rah whispered, his eyes glued to this red dot and all that surrounded it. "I trust him deeply, Master Windu."

The council shares a look with this answer and quietly sees the path presented to them more clearly. Mace leans forward, “How long till you can accurately locate Ophuchi with this data?”

Shad-Rah takes a sharp breath, going through it in his head before giving a deflated sigh. "Zoom closer.” The council did and is shown not a precise red dot but a wide, vague red circle. “There are tens of thousands of star systems. Even with all the resources, charts, and the Force to help guide me, it'd take several weeks.”

Yaddle's green brow furrows with worry. “Essentially, we know only a flicker of light exists somewhere in the void of darkness,” Yaddle assessed.

Shad-Rah sensed this, a sharp rise in concern for this new force-sensitive. “What troubles the Council?"

“If this, Ophuchi, and this force-sensitive, is true…then we may not have much time,” Yaddle shared.

Shad-Rah squints in confusion. “Forgive me, but why not?”

With a wave of his hand, Mace changed the hologram by overlaying a new layer of data, showing increasing criminal activity in the region. “Because it would appear we aren’t the only ones on the verge of contacting this individual and their world.”

From just a glance, Shad-Rah recognized these skull-like emblems across these systems. “Basham.”

“How familiar are you with them?”

“Basham are mercenary thugs," he responded with disgust in his tone. "An agent for my council linked evidence of them behind Mita's civil war two years ago. We've tried sharing it with the Senate, but-"

"They buried it," Mace said. "Basham has become more than mere thugs. They're a rising underworld power. Expanding operations. Getting into senators’ pockets. Even snatching whole worlds in the outer rim into their clutches.” Shad-Rah looked more closely at the map and noticed that Basham's sphere of influence was expanding toward the supposed location of Ophuchi.

“We’ve hoped this wouldn’t concern,” Yaddle said, “but with your confirming the validity of this, then this anomaly may be in the midst of greater trouble.”

“Then alert the Repub—” Shad-Rah said before stopping himself. What a foolish thought! Any word that spreads of this means only a greater chance of Basham agents discovering Ophuchi, and the Jedi Order’s interest in it. “Gather a team of Jedi. Immediately get them to start working on…” Once again, the Jedi Master calls himself a fool. Patience, he tells himself. Shad-Rah shuts his eyes, reaching out with his feelings to see the truth before him. This is a matter involving the memory crystal. One of the most confidential artifacts in the Order. While it is widely known among Jedi, under no circumstances does any Jedi get direct access to it. This is all to avoid unforeseen consequences and to protect the Force-sensitives' future until they're ready to choose their paths.

“Shad-Rah,” Mace said, sensing that Shad-Rah's thoughts were concluding on the same thoughts that the rest of the council had already reached. “Given the circumstances we find ourselves in, and the urgency of this matter, the only one who can do anything about this is you.”

Shad-Rah knew this to be true. He can now feel this is what the Force is guiding him towards. All his senses tell him so, the Force tells him so, but his heart is almost frozen with self-doubt. 

“We know you don’t willingly do these kinds of missions," Yaddle said. "Not since you'd…”

"Yaddle," he stopped her, his crimson eyes open to reveal a new determination within them. "If it's the will of the Force, then I understand what's required of me. As a caretaker, I will do anything for the children and their future." This Jedi gave his final answer, and the Council sees in Shad-Rah a plea for the discussion to end here. They respect this and deactivate the hologram, along with the room's security.

“We’ll wipe away this data and notify Master Nu," Mace said. He rose from his seat and handed Shad-Rah the only data disk containing all this information. "If there are any resources you require, ask.”

“Thank you, all of you," Shad-Rah said. "However, I believe I know where to start with my search. I’ll find the equipment needed and gather the people I trust on my own.” He spoke efficiently, directly, and with total professionalism. To him, this was only a new Jedi mission—one of the utmost importance for the Order. He bows to the council, promising he won't fail them nor the force-sensitive in Basham's sights. Swiftly, he walked out and stopped only when Yaddle spoke up.

“Shad-Rah," she said with an encouraging smile. "May the Force be with you.”

He didn't look back, only nodded his head and responded, “And you.”

With that, the Jedi Master takes his leave, not yet knowing why the Force is leading him down this path nor why this mission feels oddly familiar. Those sleepless nights have plagued his mind, cloaking his senses with visions of the past. Sometimes, however, he'd be shown mirrors not to the past, but to the future. "Why show me this," his whispered to himself, traversing towards the Jedi hangars. "Why this anomaly? What is truly awaiting me in Ophuchi?"

A/N: Hope you all have a lovely New Year!!!