Tok slowly opens his eyes and shakes his head a few times, trying to clear an angry buzzing noise from his ears. Looking around, the discomfort from the incessant white noise takes a backseat to utter confusion.

This makes no sense, he thinks. Did we collide with something in hyperspace? Is this the afterlife?

Seeing the Jedi milling about eliminates that possibility. Then what? He'd heard stories like this from retired Antarian Rangers, but they were just stories, weren't they? And why won't the buzzing stop? He rubs his temples to no effect.

Guided by instinct, he moves toward the buildings, trying to make out their use: commercial, residential, military? As he moves toward them, he watches the ground for signs of tracks and makes a note of how they trees are laid out, ever vigilant for the most defensible position.

The buzzing continues and he tries to push it to the back, but it's stubborn. Tok resigns himself to living with it for now and hopes whatever is causing it ends soon.

Tok doesn't make it far before he is stopped by an invisible, impenetrable barrier of some sort. The barrier extends to separate the massive building in which the seven refugees awoke. It is an impossibly straight and perfect line. Upon closer inspection, the plant life beyond the barrier looks like a bad painting of trees and underbrush painted by someone who had only heard of these things in passing. In contrast, the building, its immediate surroundings, the furniture, people, and vehicles are shown in every single precise detail.

Xaramis' eyes are clenched shut as he regains consciousness, the feeling of blankness following his picking up the holocron uncomfortably similar to what he'd always imagined death to feel like. After he has ascertained that he is not, in fact, dead - or if he is, that the afterlife is at least relatively painless, he gingerly moves his left arm over to the right. He's quite sure he'll feel nothing, or worse, the gory stump where his arm was. The fact that it feels intact is reassuring; the fact that his clothes appear to have changed is not.

He opens his eyes, and has to try very hard not to scream in absolute terror at what surrounds him. Everything seems lit by an unnatural light, indeed it seems formed by it. He is dressed in clothes he has never seen, in a place he has never been, and his very senses seem to have shut down: beyond sight and sound - which itself sounds distorted in the same way as it might be if heard from underwater - he can smell nothing, hear nothing, and feel nothing. He looks around, seeing the others stood nearby, and quivering in a manner that they have certainly never seen from him before, nor that he himself knew he could put on, he whispers. "Where are we? What's going on?"

"We are having a Force vision of sorts. Our minds are...interfacing with the holocron, the spherical artifact we recovered.

Think of it as a lucid dream guided by the Force and the holocron." Kellen tried to reassure Xaramis.

"We shouldn't be in much danger, but we could be tested: our minds, spirits, character, fears, and so forth".

That drink must have been some good stuff.

Garon opened his eyes to see blurs in various shades of blue. Slowly his vision began to focus. As it did so, he began to recognize the figures around him.

Why is everyone so blue?

It took a moment for the humor of his own thought to penetrate the could of numbness left by the alcohol. He chuckled at the sharpness of his own wit. As his surroundings grew clearer he started to recognize more than just the new companions.

I recognize this place. This is the Great Library.

As impressive as the archives were, he had spent most of his childhood avoiding such a place. Garon hated his studies. He was not made to learn things from a sheet of flimsiplast or a holo-recording. He was best suited for learning in the field - from real experience. Even though he knew this to be a vision of some sort, he still expected one of his childhood rivals to sneak up on him at any moment to play some sort of trick.

There were other reasons he avoided this place when possible.

"Oh I'm being tested alright, my capacity to not have a small breakdown is being tested to capacity! Is there an option where I pinch myself, and start again later when things aren't so blue and terrifying? Do you people just get used to this after a while?" Xaramis is speaking at a pace that is nigh-impossible to follow, his terror clearly palpable; he has never seen anything like this, he has no point of reference, so shooting his mouth off to capacity seems the best way to cope with it. He can see the very flows of what he knows deep down to be this 'Force' flowing around him and every object in the room; knowledge of what he's seeing does not, however, make him feel any better.

"You say this is a library? Any chance you could let me know exactly what's going on?"

Smiling at Xaramis, Sonya tries to imitate his speech pattern "Oh yes! That is exactly what is being tested."

"'True to yourself be' Master Dao's advice for visions comes back. She ignores it once again.

"Wandered off Tok has. Check on him I should." She moves closer to speak at a normal volume.

"Tok, adjusting are you?"

"I'm still not used to them. Often you don't know the purpose of these experiences until they are over. Figuring them out is usually part of the test."

Kellen tried to calm Xaramis: "Usually a Jedi apprentice has been prepared for such an experience and even then they are disturbing. You're doing just fine even though you haven't been prepared. I recommend you try to think of it as a dream that will pass."

Running his hand along the invisible barrier, Tok walks back and forth in an attempt to find the edges of the illusion. He's so lost in thought and trying to ignore the buzzing he doesn't notice Sonya approaching until she asks him if he's adjusting. More troubling is that he couldn't sense her coming.

"Adjusting, hmm," he says, the beginnings of a rueful smile tugging at his lips. "Not really, no. I've heard stories about this kind of thing, but never believed they were real."

He squints and grimaces a bit before rubbing his temple again. Besides Xaramis's abject terror, no one else seems to be suffering any ill effects. Odd.

"Can't you hear that? Anyway, if this is some kind of Jedi or force vision, I shouldn't be here. None of this makes any sense."

"Only the normal sounds, I hear. Explain this better, the Jedi Knights can. Fie. New grammar, I will learn. To me none of this makes any sense either. Was that correct?

Sonya looks at the library. The most interesting thing she had found there was an old illustrated tome about the origins of the lightsaber or forcesaber they called them.

"Now my past, like those events on Python, and the moons Aspen and Bothan? forgotten history is.

In the library, what could this vision hold?

Ren-Do's search of one of the computer consoles reveals some strange and disconcerting information, in that almost no information is on it at all. This is a console connecting to the database of the largest compendium of digital information in the known Galaxy. The only sections of the database that appear to be functioning are those concerning hypserspace travel, starships, and the maintenance thereof.

In addition to this information, Ren-Do notices that most of the library is a little...blander than he remembers. This particular console looks fine, but the others look smudged. While the desk looks worn and detailed down to the grain of the ancient wood, the other desks and shelves look like half-rendered holograms.

Sonya, meanwhile, searches through the various tool chest arrayed through the area. As she does, the light grows a little brighter, color fills in a bit, and details become clearer. The tool chest is filled with spare parts and tools specifically meant in the repair of Delta X-1 Starsprite single person spacecraft. The ceiling of the room grows taller the more she rummages through the chest, her robes grow looser, and hair grows back on her skin. "Careful there, youngling," a human man's voice says to her softly, with a hint of amusement. "Those tools are for the padawans in my care."

A phantom hand, in full color - pale, slightly sunburned human skin with oil stains and burn scars on the fingers and palms - reaches down and ruffles the hair on the top of Sonya's head affectionately. The rest of the group see this physical change in Sonya, which doesn't seem to be going away any time soon, at least as long as they're in this "memory".

"Hmmm. Rin, could you take a look at this? If I recall correctly hyperspace travel is more your area of expertise than mine. I feel rather lost in this," Ren-Do says in a quiet voice. He continues browsing, focusing on starship maintenance, specifically looking to see if that section seems complete, or if only parts of it remain.

"Sonya, you look...different," the disembodied arm is almost enough to cause the slowly recovering Xaramis to spiral back down again, while the mysterious voice does little to reassure him. "Oh what now? Are we being haunted by the ghost of mystics past? If I'd known I was going to be dragged along to your cosmic torture palace I'd have taken the first escape pod off that damned ship. Or never boarded at all."

When Rin awoke into another strange world for the second time that day he quite nearly thought he had lost his mind. Blue surrounding him slowly took shape into seemingly solid objects. The hue of everything slowly changed from the single palette that had comprised his entire view, revealing his companions nearby in various states of confusion. [Not again! Where am I this time?]

"Rin, could you take a look at this" Ren-Dos voice interrupted his thoughts from near a data console.

"On my way Renny, maps you say? Yes I think I have had a bit to do with those before, let me have a look"

Ren-Do looks up with an annoyed look. "Renny? I don't think that was my nickname at all. I don't suppose I'm the sort of person to have a nickname, now that I think about it."

For a moment all of Sonya's cynicism drops away and she is the optimistic youngling again.

"Will you teach us?", she asks the Master.

The ghost of a pleased and proud smile appears somewhere above the hand. "Some day, young one. When you are ready to become a padawan but not yet assigned a Master, you will train with a group of other padawans here, should your aptitudes prove themselves for early training under my tutelage. If not then, you will certainly train with me or my successor before you become a Knight. Run along now. I'm sure the youngling master is worried for you."

The man's voice and partial images fade away, darkening to red briefly before vanishing altogether. Details and color fade slightly as well, but Sonya stays in her youngling form.

Garon chewed on his cheek while lost in thought. If he remembered Hakkar's teachings correctly, Force visions were like puzzles. And most of the time, puzzles never had a straight-forward solution. He was going to have to approach things sideways if he was to figure this out.

I'm going to go find the master librarian. He mumbled as he headed in a direction that was only vaguely familiar to him.

A sudden smile appears on youngling Sonya's face.

"Lightsaber colors. Like lightsaber colors, the strange colors here are. Red things, the Sith are like, and blue things Jedi. Purples in between are."

Noticing that world mostly consists of blues, Sonya relaxes completely for the first time in years.

"The nicest Force vision I have had, this is."

All he can think about is clearing his head, but Tok realizes to do so they have to get past whatever test or puzzle they've been thrust into. He closes his eyes and thinks of Morra's laugh. It helps him block out a bit of the discomfort and lets him come up with a plan. If they're looking for a force- based object and the force is what's causing the buzzing, then if he goes to where the buzzing is most intense then he should be able to find something to end this nightmare.

Steeling his nerves he walks around a bit until the buzzing gets worse, then he follows it. He doesn't realize he's been holding his breath until he's standing next to Sonya — she hasn't been a young long this whole time has she? — then he feels an urge to look down and sees a glowing green object. He doesn't know what it is, but it feels like it's important.

"Does anyone know what this is?" he says, pulling it from the tool box. "I feel like we need it."

After thinking about the situation the group has found itself in, and observing the interaction Sonya is having, Ren-Do is fairly certain what is going on. "I belief we are, for a lack of a better word, interfacing with what seems to be a rather unusual holocron. The fact that it has chosen to represent itself by parts of the great library in the Jedi Temple is comforting and might be designed to help us interact.”

The Cerean pauses to make sure most of the beings present follow him so far, but is fairly certain Xaramis and Tok might not. “As we have found out the creator of the holocron had a specialized field of interest, and the holocron seems to be giving us insight into that. By which I mean that the creator of the holocron seems to have been a keen pilot. Perhaps an explorer or a fighter pilot.”

Standing next to Rin he browses the accessible parts of the holocron having to do with hyperspace travel while he talks, not wanting to waste time. He looks specifically for information on planets connected with the Force, for example the planet Ilum. To the others he might seem distracted, but Cereans are able to concentrate fully on two things at once, as most of them might know.

Ren-Do remembers hearing about the ice-planet when he was a youngling, but is uncertain if that is where he went as a padawan to find a crystal for his lightsaber. It makes no sense for the mechanics of the lightsaber to cause the malfunction I’ve seen. The only rational explanation is that the crystal has been damaged somehow. We might need to find a source of kyber-crystals.

As he browses, Ren-Do keeps talking. To those unused to the tall Cerean it might even be described as droning on. “What we might keep in mind is that the holocron might only be showing us part of the actual information it has. The parts it thinks we are ready to see. There might be more information here, but we cannot access that for now. Therefore it seems logical to look for something we need in the information provided.”

Garon did his best to relax. Sonya appeared to be handling the situation just fine, despite how it had been affecting her so far, perhaps this vision is a benevolent one.

He weaved through the stacks only to turn a corner and see something that could be the keeper of the Librarian. Garon strained his memory, but he couldn't recall what the Great Librarian looked like. He supposed this was it.

Uh... Excuse me. I'm looking for the Chief Librarian here. Can ya help me?

The librarian changes, revealing a face bereft of all features. Regardless, the voice of pleasant elderly man emanated from where the mouth should have been "Yes, my child? How may I help you?"

When Tok lifts the green device, it glows brighter for half a second, then the scenery immediately around the tool chests changes, revealing a cluster of green light children no older than twelve, several green light adults, a small arrowhead shaped craft also made of green light, and a young human man in full color, facing the ship with a look of anxiety in his face. The young man sighs and says to himself, "I must not be afraid. Fear is a path to the Dark Side. If I remember my teachings, I will do well."

Each time he mentions a word associated with the Dark Side, his shape fluctuates and becomes red light briefly. With a final deep breath, he steels himself and turns to face the children. "Good morning, younglings," he addresses them. "Good morning, Masters."

The children, as one, respond, "Good morning, Quartermaster Apprentice Micc'm!" The masters acknowledge Micc'm with a nod.

"As many of you younglings are no doubt aware, normally, you would be assigned Masters as their padawan learners at this point in your training. However, given the progress of Galactic events and your particular aptitudes, the Jedi Council has elected you for additional training." He smiles and affectionately pats the hull of the little craft. "And this beautiful lady is my teaching assistant. Allow me to introduce you to the DeltaX-1 'Starsprite'. The Council commissioned Kuat Systems for this craft. You will all learn to know this craft, its systems, and maintenance better than you know yourselves..."

"Ok, so we're in a mind palace right?" Xaramis is at this point barely scraping by, mentally speaking. "I read about it as a theory once. And saw it in a holovid. Whoever made that holocron found a way to upload their memories to it, and created a landscape for them," he pauses to think for a moment, taking deep breaths to avoid rushing, and thus panicking. "So every one of these books is actually a memory trigger for the holocron's information. However, I should point out that right now I'm wrestling with a form of largely magical pseudoscience, so for all I know it could be that the Xerites actually got religion right and we're in their heaven. Or hell," he still sounds distinctly shaky, but the fact that he can at least put a name to what surrounds him is an approximation of reassuring.

Less so is the sudden empathic reaction to mentions of this so-called 'dark side', the pings of angry red light accompanied by a momentary sensation akin to a throbbing headache, that fades before it can really begin to hurt. He leans in to Rin and Ren-Do. "This, uh, dark - " he is cut off as an even sharper pain readies its battering ram for an almighty swing at the gates of his frontal cortex, and he changes. "You know, that thing he mentioned. What is it, and why's it causing the world to feel like death?"