Ren-Do is halfway across the floor, headed for the computer, when the gatekeeper speaks. As the others seem to be crowding him at the moment, the Cerean continues towards the computer terminal. Earlier the computer gave some hints on the topics likely covered, so this might be the same. As he arrives he sees Xaramis ineffectually poking at buttons, trying to operate the computer.

"No, not like that, you have to traverse to the index before... no, not there, try reversing. Going back. No, back. Eh, perhaps I should just try to see if I can operate this infernal machine," he says, sliding in next to Xaramis and taking over the computer controls. He really isn't that clever, that one. Street smarts, perhaps. No book smarts in him I think.

Hitting a few keys he finally gets the computer terminal open and displaying the index. "There, that wasn't so hard after all," he murmurs.

As he works the computer he uses one part of his binary brain to focus on what the gatekeeper is saying, as he intends to take part in the conversation once he's seen what information the computer holds.

"I've never had any problems operating my ePad," Xaramis sulks. "I know what I'm doing, and tech's moved on a lot since you went into the deep freeze," he flips through multiple screens at Ren-Do's suggestion. "Look, let's go back to the home screen," a map of an obscure quadrant appears. "Maybe it's this one?" archive footage of an ancient space battle. "No, no, it's got to be this one - what's the Ebon Hawk, and why do I need its schematics?" he shouts, standing up and rendering the chair to his more intelligent companion.

"The interface was outdated anyway. Modern stuff is way more ergonomic," he grumbles, as Ren-Do opens up the computer index.

The screen of the computer has four directories on a complex rotating interface now. Ships, Charts, Hangars, and Private.

"Thanks. Just hold that panel in place, Kellen," the lightly glowing man says. He wrenches the spanner, locking the panel into place with a grunt of effort. "There we go."

The man slides out from under the DeltaX-1 and stands. Again, like the previous vision, he is fully in color, but unlike before, he appears at least fifteen years older. Short cropped auburn hair is flecked with grey, smudges of engine grease intermingle with a dark tan on his skin. Laugh lines and crows feet spread from around his dark green eyes, and a messy goatee frames his grinning mouth. He is clothed in loose fitting tans and browns.

"Welcome to my memories, beings. I am Jedi Master Micc'm Altonis, former quartermaster of the Great Library on Ossus and commander of the Nexu Squadron."

Once Xaramis seems to be on top of the computer-related issues Ren-Do turns to Micc'm. "Master Micc'm, a pleasure to make your acquaintance. My name is Ren-Do Uvara, and until recently I was a Jedi Knight fighting a seemingly lost war against the Sith Empire. My companions and I,” he says, indicating the beings present, except Tok and Xaramis, “Were frozen in time, so to speak. That is to say, we have just recently awoken after nearly four millennia in cryogenic sleep.”

The tall Cerean approaches the apparition. “We have found, after being revived, apparently by accident, that our connection with the Force is not what it used to be. Even tasks I would previously have considered trivial are now beyond me. What is more, I have lost a large part of my memories. I remember being a youngling in the Jedi Temple, but only bits and pieces after that. Some things have been coming back to me, but at the rate that is happening I will never fully recover what I’ve lost.”

Seeing the rather bored-looking faces of the other beings present Ren-Do realizes he’s been rambling on when he should, perhaps, have been brief. Is that a thing I do? Ramble? “Eh, not that any of that is of paramount concern at the moment. I believe that it is the will of the Force that the five of us find ourselves here at this time. If it is the will of the Force that I lose my connection and memories, that is my burden to bear, and I do so gladly.”

I had better wrap this up. That Besalisk fellow seems just about ready to tear my arms off. “At any rate. We gather that we are in some sort of a holocron-device. We found the device hidden in the cryo-tube of a Jedi Master. I don’t know if that was you or not though I suspect as much, time had not been kind to the body post-mortem. Perhaps you can tell us what the purpose of this place is, and what you know of the situation we find ourselves in?”

Kellen gives a respectful bow to Master Altonis.

"As Ren-do said, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Kellen Venn, also a Jedi Knight. Most of us are Jedi, and all of us stand in need of the help of Jedi Master. As Ren-do said, our connection to the Force has weakened. And while it's thousands of years after our time it appears the galaxy is again facing the same evil we fought against."

Sonya moves to join the others giving a bow to Micc'm.

"Greetings Master Altonis. I am padawan Sonya Damascene."

She steps back a step after her introduction to observe everything more clearly.

Xaramis steps away from the terminal. Time enough for that later, not that it seems as useful as I'd hoped. Instead he approaches the others to face Micc'm.

"Master Jedi, my name is Xaramis, of the noble Falleen House of Herbray. Unlike these others - except for Tok here, my comrade in confusion - I am not a Jedi, nor am I a recently defrosted Wampa-pop; instead I come from the modern galaxy, where our mental palaces have much friendlier interfaces. The only thing I do have in common with the others is that apparently I have a connection the same 'Force' that they claim to - perhaps you in your wisdom could clarify the truth of that?"

Tok gives Sonya a slow nod to answer her question and remains silent, intent on listening to the newly thawed Jedi tell their tales. The information will come in handy down the road.

He feigns boredom, making a show of stifling a yawn and itching his right horn with Janna's barrel.

"Hey, whoa. Calm down everyone. Questions one at a time," Micc'm raises his hands in protest. "I'm only one dead guy with six living people...seven if the big guy is with you."

He sighs heavily and drags his fingers through his hair. "Right, so first things first. I'm dead, physically. What you see before you is my soul and mind made manifest through the power of the Living Force. As you've correctly deduced, you are trapped in a Holocron, the same as I."

He turns to address one of Xaramis's statements. "A Jedi Holocron, dear boy, is not a 'mind palace', whatever that is. It is a priceless artifact of great personal significance. It is the sum of one Jedi's knowledge and experience for future generations to learn from. Unfortunately...I was neither prepared nor skilled enough to make a Holocron when I began contruction on this one, as you could probably tell from its physical appearance. I was young when I began to construct it. You've probably already seen the memory..."

He sighed again, pausing for a few moments. "When you activated the Holocron, I brought you here, as a test of sorts. Four parts there are to this test, and they must be passed at all cost. I can only assume you've passed the first test already by your presence here. Before you continue, have you more questions? I'll tell you what I can."

"I have one," Xaramis steps forward, a look of determination on his face. "Well, two actually. The first is what in the stars do you think you're playing at? We were dragged in here against our will, subjected to the most horrific of emotional strains, and for what? So that you could present us with even more challenges? Do you know what its like to be dragged into someone else's pet project? And what about our physical forms - did you ever consider that?" Xaramis pauses for breath.

"The second question I have, is a simple one - is it all true? Your Jedi Order, which I was raised to believe were stories the same as the Knights of the Tetrahedral Hall, the Sith, who I've never heard of until today, the Force, even your dark whatsit that I can't mention or I get the sort of hangover I associate with a Nar Shaddaa bender - is it really true? They aren't just a lot of stories, are they?"

For the first time since being thawed out Ren-Do laughs. It‘s not a long laugh or an obnoxious one, more like a chuckle which he tried to restrain but couldn‘t. “You are an impudent one,” he murmurs. “No fear, I give you that.”

Clearing his throat he addresses Micc’m. “I’d like to add my query to that of my new friend, the impatient Xaramis. My question is in two parts. Firstly, what happens if we pass the three remaining tests? And secondly, should we fail, what will happen to us? And to add to the latter, should a being die in here, what will the effect be to his or her's body and mind outside this holocron?”

Micc'm took Xaramis's outburst with all the reaction of a cliff face. "To answer your second question: yes, the stories are true. Well...most of them at any rate. As far as I'm aware, but my time may as well be myth to those from your time. The Jedi and Sith of your time may not even exist in the same way as they did in my time. A word to those seeking wisdom: one cannot view the Jedi and Sith as good and evil or white and black respectively. A Jedi may perform an act of 'evil' in service to the greater good, just as a Sith may perform an act of virtue to further evil plans. While both orders are extremes and opposite of one another, the true path of the Living Force is more or less grey."

He scratched his chin, thinking a moment. "Your first question is more problematic. This is not some twisted game I am playing with you. I am in dire need of your help. I have been trapped in my own Holocron for, as you've stated, nearly four thousand years. This Holocron was not complete when we went into cryogenic storage. Four Ilum crystals went into its construction. The first was my lightsaber crystal, but since I never did excel in forms of melee combat, I utilized it for another purpose. When we fled Ossus and subsequently entered cryo, I had not yet attuned to the fourth crystal. When I...died...all my fear and pain and anger from those final moments filled the crystal and corrupted the Holocron itself. It took root in three of the four crystals. My essence filled this one and replaced the knowledge I had placed in it. I fully admit that bringing you all here was not a virtuous act, but my bargain with you all is this: finish the test and I will show you to places you could only dream of. Your bodies are fine and will not be harmed while you are in here."

"If you fail," he continued after some thought, "I do not know...In the two tests following this, I will do what I can to assist you..."

A major concern hits Tok like a punch in the gut and he interjects before anyone else can ask another question.

"How does time flow in here?" he asks. "If we're stuck in this fantasy land and the ship falls out of hyperspace, we're kriffed."

When Micc'm doesn't answer quickly enough for Tok's liking he strides angrily toward the...whatever it was.

"You know what, never mind. I'm not sure you'd give us a straight answer anyway. Let's just get on with it so we can get out of this thing!"

Desperation to see his family claws at his insides and he wheels around to address the others.

"I'm NOT going to be trapped in this thing. I have a job to do and once that's done, a family to get home to."

He turns back to Micc'm.

"I said, let's get on with it," he growls.

Micc'm tilts his head and watches Tok carefully. "Another bargain made, have you?" he whispers just loud enough for the angry Gotal to hear, no one else. "Love for one's family is one thing, but this desperation seems to be more than that...Keep your secrets if you must, but think on this: do you trust the one who holds your leash?"

The buzzing intensifies, causing Tok's vision to blur, and he gets a metallic taste on the back of his tongue. How could this phantom know...

"I said," Tok whispers back, through gritted teeth, "Let's. Get. On. With. It."

Ren-Do puts his hand on Tok's shoulder and says in an almost fatherly, calm tone. "Calm yourself. Your anxiety is understandable, but not needed. We still have a long way to travel in hyperspace. I trust Rin and if he programmed our jump we will be fine. I don't expect time moves any differently for us while we're in here. And we will get out. Think of this as an exciting dream and we will all be just fine when we wake up. Have faith."

To himself more than anyone else, he says: "I wonder what the second part of the test will entail," as he looks around. "Eh, perhaps you would be so kind as to tell us that at least," he says, raising his voice slightly and looking at Micc'm. "That is, what the test we must face here entails?"

Micc'm continued looking at Tok. "The second test is one of memory. For the 'womp-pops'. Study the DeltaX-1s here. See what memories you can conjure. I will be here should any further questions arise."

Taking his cue from the holocron's guardian, Ren-Do finds a starfighter he likes the look of and starts by running his hands along the hull, examine the engines and the laser cannons, before climbing into the cockpit. "I don't think I ever flew one of those, to be honest," he admits. "Or perhaps I did," he says as his hand grasps the controls, turning on the systems without thinking about what he's doing. "I might have flown one but somehow I don't think I was very good at it."

As he flips the switch to activate the targeting computer he experiences a memory from his past, forgotten during his long stay in the cryo-tube.

“Blast it, T2, try to boost the power to the deflector shields,” a slightly younger Ren-Do says to the astromech droid behind him as he switches on his targeting computer. The Cerean is in the cockpit of a borrowed DeltaX-1 starfighter. Master Eliose's starfighter. As he looks around he sees a squadron of Republic fighters in formation behind him. Then he looks to the front, and sees scores of incoming enemy fighters. Sith fighters.

“There sure is a lot of them,” he says to the droid. “I suspect we are outnumbered at least three to one. And unlike us, they will surely have reinforcements. Did I tell you already? I really don’t like flying. This should be Master Elios out here, not me. So many good Jedi have fallen in this damned war."

He opens up a channel to the squadron, one of three that are apparently protecting a convoy of freighters as they evacuate a space station orbiting a barren, grey planet. “Eh, this is it men. Trust in the Force but remember what is at stake. We cannot win the day. But we can keep those bombers and fighters off our transports long enough for them to get away. Every minute we delay them will save lives.”

As the enemy fighters fill the screen of his targeting computers he opens up a channel to his squadron again. “Follow my lead, we have to break through the fighter screen and target the bombers. Form up tight and protect your wing-man. Force be with us all.”

And then the enemy fighters are upon them. There are laser blasts everywhere and Ren-Do finds himself jerking the controls of the fighter to avoid impacting with an enemy fighter as he narrowly misses him with the dual blaster cannons. “Blast it, I hate flying,” he murmurs to himself. He allows the Force to guide his actions, knowing that his coordination and meager flying skills alone will not keep him alive for long.

He sees both Republic and Sith fighters exploding around him, but most of his fighters make it through to attack the slower, less maneuverable bombers which the Sith fighters are trying to protect. Several of them are destroyed in the first pass, but over half of his squadron is gone. “On me, make another pass,” he calmly orders his remaining fighters, but before he can continue his ship shudders. His astromech droid lets out a sad bleep as he is shredded along with most of the port engine.

“Not good, not good,” Ren-Do murmurs, trying his best to stay calm. His controls seem terribly sluggish, but he manages to point his ship towards the planet. The Sith fighters do not pursue the nearly destroyed Jedi Fighter, and somehow he manages to get the craft on a sustainable approach vector to the planet. Only then does he notice the warning sign. The front of the fighter has sustained damage as well, making entry into the atmosphere dangerous.

“Oh no,” he murmurs as the ship starts to heat up on entering the planet’s atmosphere. Parts of the fighter fall off, but he manages to steer the ship towards a promising spot to make an emergency landing. “Let’s hope this ship is as tough as it looks,” he says to himself as he hits the ground. The fighter skids on the ground for several kilometers, tearing the landing gear right off and sliding on the belly, completely out of control. As the small fighter finally comes to a halt Ren-Do pops open the canopy. “It will take a miracle to get this wreck flying again,” he says to himself. “Hopefully someone will come get me.”

Ren-Do shakes his head. He’s back in the cockpit of the fighter inside the holocron. Thankfully. “Well, I know I’ve flown one of these. I also know I’ve crashed and nearly died. I just don’t remember if I was able to repair it properly, or if I got rescued.”

Kellen folds his arms listening to Micc'm and taking in words.

"A Master has the right to his own prerogative. I'm intrigued by your offer. Will passing these tests help to purge these crystals of the dark side energy corrupting them?"

Garon stood by in silence as he watched the exchange between the Holocron's gatekeeper and the rest of his companions. When Xaramis had his outburst, the Besalisk couldn't help but sympathize.

Overall, something didn't feel quite right about Micc'm's story. But he was quickly loosing patience with the entire situation, entirely.

Riddles and tests. Is there some sort of course for this kind of poodoo after you become a Knight? I swear, all Jedi Masters are the same.

At the ghost's advice, Garon took a moment to consider the Starfighter.

Study the ship for memories? What the blast does that mean?

The ships certainly weren't new. He could see small dents and dimples were debris had struck it. Underneath, there were clear scorch marks where the ship had entered and left atmosphere. But certainly nothing that would contain a memory.

Finally, there was the designation symbols emblazoned on each model. He had known some of the regular troopers to put such works of art on their bombers, but Jedi tended to frown on such demonstrations of individuality within their own ranks.

Cleansing lightsabre crystals are we? Most interesting, that explains what happened when I tried to pick the green one. What is a "womp-pop," I wonder.

Sonya moves to a ship and begins looking at it.

This looks like some kind of fighter, I guess...What memories could I have? Pilot or mechanic I was not. Wait!

She stops and looks at the ship again, then moves back as far as she can.

Ossus, yesterday. These were defending us at Ossus. They were distant, shooting the Sith ships and getting shot in turn, their pilots giving their lives to give us a chance to escape.

She moves back to the ship and rests a hand on it, whispering "Thank you."

Sitting and leaning her back on the ship, Sonya closes her eyes. A long two days, this has been.

As Ren-Do re-familiarizes himself with the fighter’s systems he goes over the status of the vehicle. Although the computer shows the fighter is ready for action, a small notification also indicates that it hasn’t been serviced in a long time.

The tall Cerean awkwardly gets out of the cockpit, leaving the essential systems on. “This thing appears to need some work,” he says, as he collects tools, filters and other things he’ll need. For the next minutes he busies himself doing routine maintenance on the small craft. At first the going is slow, as the Jedi Knight tries to recall just exactly what he’s supposed to be doing, but after a while he settles into a steady rhythm, checking the wear and tear on the engine, aligning properly the reentry panels, oiling up the landing gear and going over the vacuum seals to make sure a pilot would be safe flying the ship in outer space. His final task includes going over the dual blaster cannons and the small shield generator.

As he works on the fighter he gets a feeling he’s done something like this before, but no memories from his past are triggered.

Satisfied that the ship is now in good shape he takes a little time to check out the markings on the ship. It was not uncommon for fighter pilots to adorn their ships with some personal inscription, a picture or similar. He notices a stylized black symbol that looks like a Nexu on the side of the ship, under the canopy.

While he looks he chats to Micc’m. “So, this was your squadron? Could you tell us anything about it? where you fought or what the other pilots were like?”

Nexu squadron... nexu, nexus, is that the plural form. Recall hearing something about nexu or nexus of power, I do

Sonya struggled for the context, but she could not place it on either Devaron or Ossus.

Probably the name of some swoop gang.

She stood and began looking the ship over for anything that might jar a memory.

Kellen walks back over to the ship Micc'm was working on and begins to go through a basic maintenance check.

He examines the weapons load out and the weapons charge then goes over the status of the various ship systems.

Kellen stand back and admires the ship.

"One more thing..." Kellen reaches down into the toolbox and pulls out some small colored tubes. He climbs up onto the craft and uses the tubes to put a white and black insignia on the ship: a Krayt Dragon.

Satisfied that things are in order he climbs into the cock-pit and begins his pre-flight check. Kellen takes a moment to center himself in the cockpit then clicks the engine ignition switch.

"Lets see if this thing can actually fire up."