Part 3 – The Station

 

Raavik had spent his first month awake in fifty years draining the youth from the population of a planet that had not been involved in any major wars that had taken place within that time period. The planet was named Vos Talas. A pleasantly perfect world that the galaxy had deemed unnecessary. A time of peace that stretched from horizon to horizon. 

For every good deed, an evil one of equal measure was done. The planet remained in a perfect balance. Minor scuffles were talked about and forgotten. Raavik Yaan was completely and utterly protected while he slept. Protected by an entity unlike any other in the galaxy. Raavik found this being while he was exploring the far reaches of the unknown regions. 

When Raavik was a young man, a chronologically young man, he was a man that explored deep space searching for new worlds and hyperspace routes. He would then sell his hard work to the Republic. Always new places to be found. He was trained by his father to be an exceptional pilot. Trained by his mother to understand politics and how to work a room. Agility and charisma. He was not exactly trained in the Force, he didn’t have a great connection to it to begin with. Perhaps that is what caught his master’s attention in the first place. 

Raavik stumbled upon a star station on one of his journeys to the unknown regions. He saw the stations and went to explore it in hopes that he would find some unique salvage. But that didn’t even begin to describe what it was that he found. 

The station was two quad pyramids one on top of the other. Eight rings surrounded it, from the tip top to the tip bottom. A strange station indeed. There were many ships dock with it, some appeared more ancient than others. Hundreds of ships, all of different varieties and species.

Raavik dock with the station and carried himself forward. He carried two lanterns on his belt and one more in his hand. He had a small blaster holstered on his back. He entered the station unknowing of what he was seeking. There were books piled high in every direction some scattered on the floor most in book cases. Not only books but also datapads and holocrons. Knowledge from throughout the millenniums was all gathered here for the taking. 

A strange feeling passed through him and it seemed that a presence ran through the station. As he delved deeper, he saw strange people in the dim light. For the light in the station was dark, but not blindingly so. A gray source was far above and provided enough light that one could see around within a twilight. 

As Raavik’s eyes adjusted he could see pale shapes moving throughout the library. Their eyes were empty and hollow, for some of them would read a book cover to cover, put it down, walk over to a dim pad of light, seem to be disappointed with the result then return to their reading of another book.

For there were many of these wraiths and each one was less aware of Raavik than they were of each other. They did not seem to notice anything other than the pads of light and the books that surrounded them. But perhaps that was for the best. As Raavik recalled, all of them looked pale and starved as if they had forgotten what time even was. An abstract concept that drew many into its terrible game.

 Part 3 – The Station History

 

Raavik never reported the space station to the Republic as an odd find. Even though the library’s knowledge and books would have set him up for the rest of his life very easily, a feeling stopped him from writing his latest report. He instead mentioned the planets with tantalum within their core, spice in the rings, topsoil ripe for colonization. 

Everything that would have netted a huge profit with the Republic, he instead took what he needed for fuel and food and placed the rest into a trust. But on his current return flight, he made sure to paint the coordinates across the hull of the ship so that he would never forget where to go to find the station that he discovered. 

Ever he felt drawn back to the station, but he knew not why. He found himself wandering aimlessly. Not toward any star in particular. His flights got longer and longer. He caught himself always staring in one certain direction. As if he could hear a voice calling his name. The voice was as sweet as honey, or as gritty as coal. Always it called for him to come back. No matter how far he ran, the voice found him. At times it was just a whisper, other times it was as if a cymbal crashed above his head. Never did it leave him alone.

Raavik ship was a B34a21-6 Hawthorne Class light transport, named Father’s Yacht. It had been outfitted with a 32AA fixed turbolaser for ship defense. But that was only for a last straw. For the ship’s true defense was the three hyper drives that took up passenger space. At the ship was fast. Super fast. Hyper fast. Very little room was left for any extra cargo that was not expected. The ship had a small complement of J6 astromech droids: J6-A1, J6-A2, J6-A3. The first and last of their line. A special order that was given to Raavik by a senator for giving him a new colony to exploit. A1 was red, A2 was yellow, and A3 was green. Each one was in charge of a different hyperdrive, maintaining it and bringing up any issues that may arise with it. 

But all this pales to helping him get away from the voices that followed Raavik across the galaxy. Into the depths of nebulas he descended, the voice followed. Across the infinite plains of the verdant atmospheric gas that float in the empty void, the voices could still be heard. With all the systems of the Yacht turned off, the voice could still be heard. 

Raavik had never been one to believe in the Force. The Jedi and Sith had embroiled civilizations into wars. Each was a cult of different values. Each collided with the other based upon their values that the other is wrong about. One seeking power the other seeking wisdom. Neither saying that the other was correct in some ways and seeking peace with their enemies. 

Lost in the depths of space he had gone too far that none of his maps even knew where he was. That not even the astro tracking could find the galactic center. He was completely lost. 

“Raavik… Raavik…”

The voice spoke to him once again. This was the sweet voice it was soothing and calming.

“You must come back. I have a purpose for you. A calling that is perfect for you, an exact fit.”

Raavik hung his head in defeat and let the voice tell him where to go. He put in the coordinates from the side of the Yacht. He sped away and let the voice take over.

Part 3 – The Station

 

“Fear me not.” The voice said. It was now both gritty and soothing at the same time. Acceptingly terrifying. “For your presence in the galaxy has been known to me for some time. You are an anomaly in the Force of life. You can be  around people, however, you chose isolation. You keep company of the lifeless, but seek new life in the galaxy.”

Raavik felt like he could see two arms reaching across the void and grabbing his ship and embracing it and pulling it.

“For you are needed to procure and curate the Waypoint. For my knowledge, depth, power, and wisdom can only grow while I have a curator to maintain new incoming knowledge. For though I exist through the Force. Many can still shut themselves off to me. Physical forms of willing participants allow me to spread through the stars more effectively.”

Raavik felt the grip of the force relax a bit, he found the strength to speak once again. “Why me though? I was not good enough to be found by the Force before. Why now?”

Silence once again filled the space, but the presence of the Other did not fade. It seemed to be waiting until the quiet once again took over. It finally spoke again in the honey sweet voice.

“You possess a different strand of the Force. The strand is overlooked or looked down upon by most Force users. Completely neutral. Neither Light nor Dark. Leaning to either side.”

The tone changed to be more harsh and gritty, but no less helpful.

“The light side would claim that you have not enough Force power to survive the training, while the dark would see potential for heinous deeds but would see you as nothing more than a thorn of medocracity for their ever expanding quest for power.”

Quiet once again over took over. Raavik got up from the cockpit console and moved to the kitchen. He needed some water, while he was drinking he figured that he should go ahead and make a sandwich that was proportional to the liquid that he drank. He looked around at his surroundings. He really began to notice that his ship was messy and slightly disorganized, but not so much that he couldn’t find what he was looking for. A balanced could found. 

Though three droids he had, only two were on and one in standby. a balance was struck even there. J6-A1 was more hazardous with its repairs yet its hyperdrive stayed functional longer. J6-A3 was more careful with its repairs, but did them more often. J6-A2 was in standby, but it’s hyperdrive was not in use at the moment. Balance was struck.

Raavik returned to the cockpit feeling satisfied, not overly full nor underwhelmed. Balance was struck once again.

He was quiet for a time, he focused on listening, waiting for the Voice to come back to him.

The hyperdrive hummed with a slight intensity as it powered down. Raavik drifted to sleep as the ship powered down. Within his dreams the Voice came back to speak more.

Part 3 – the Station – the Return

 

Raavik’s dreamscape was that of a bland grey. He was dressed in his everyday wear, but there was the presence of another nearby.

“Did you see the Balance of your own life?” The Voice was spoken honey sweetly through a monstrous form, and a gritty tough through a beautiful maiden. “Balance is what those that use the Force strive to become. For within the Balance peace and chaos is achieved.  A perfection between two natures. You saw the imperfection at least once before, at the Libria Nexus? Those that studied the books? They were both Jedi and Sith, users of the Light and Dark side of the Force. They are unaware of the others being there and they have lost all sense of self while trying to maintain Balance. Since they were not born with a sense of Balance they succumb to teetering off the edge and onto the Light or Dark side of the Force. You are indeed an anomaly. You hold true to yourself and neither side has a pull on you. That is very unique. Perhaps one in a billion. When you see suffering you shrug it off, when you give to charity and care little for the joy it should bring. You unknowingly balance yourself to remain within a perfect balance.”

“You are not part of the Jedi are you?” Raavik asked.

“Those that practice the Force, whether it is bending it to their will or allowing it to move through themselves, know little of my ways. Force users that I choose, work alongside me. I offer advice, I offer my power to the powerless, such as yourself. It is true that you have no strong connection to the Force, barely a weak one. With me you shall create new worlds, connect to new contacts we will work to regain the Balance of the Force.”

“Do you not have the Balance already?” Raavik interjected.

“The Nexus has been quiet for far too long. My power has waned. I can feel the Force moving ahead without me. It says that beings search for truth in Light, or power in Dark. It works with others, but it does not let others influence. Those that are under the influence of the Nexus can never be work with, for they still only seek to gain their own power. That is why I reach out to you. I can work with you, but you will never be under me.”

With the last word spoken, Raavik woke up. Through half open eyes he looked through the cockpit window. He had returned to the Station that he had found earlier.

The Station had not changed except for one new ship that had made dock to the junkyard of derelict ships. Father’s Yacht was directed to another dock point, a hidden docking area. Far below beneath what would have been considered a safe docking space the Yacht was directed to the Apostle’s landing pad.

The lights on the pad were that of a dim gray, bright enough to see but not so much that one would not have to squint. 

Raavik exited his ship. He toted a small bag that had an extra set of clothes. The Voice guided him through the maze of corridors, turns of left and right, up inverts, down lifts. The deeper he went the more it seemed that a spectre appeared in front of him.

“Where are we going?” Raavik asked.

The spectre seemed to turn its head and answered, “We must get to the core of the Nexus. There the contract must be formed and fulfilled. The center is down deep at the absolute center of the Nexus.”

The deeper we when we passed by several libraries. Each was contained at least three different people. All unaware, all reading or viewing holocrons. 

“What do these beings search for?” Raavik asked as he passed the beings. He tapped one on the shoulder and its eyes were empty and hollow. It looked up slowly for a moment, blinked, then went back to what it was doing.

“They are not beings anymore.” The spectre answered guiding him away from that not-being. “That one was a man, strong and pure. Jedi you might say. He came here seeking wisdom from ages past. The Nexus does not give its knowledge without sacrifice. A Balance must be struck. So he was giving what he sought so long as he stayed and fed the Nexus with his own life force.”