3300 BBY Ruins of Odessen Michelan Avera drew a slow breath as she studied the holocron resting in her palm. It glimmered with yellow and white streams of light — threaded with a faint current of blue that pulsed like a distant heartbeat. Not Jedi-standard. Not Sith, but something else. She turned it slowly. The air in the chamber felt charged. A shuffle of boots against fractured stone pulled her attention away. Two young men emerged from the shadowed corridor behind her. "Did you find anything interesting, cousin?" the taller one asked, data-pads stacked beneath his arm. Michelan lifted the holocron slightly. "This one feels... different." The second boy stepped closer and reached for it without hesitation. "Ooh..." he exhaled as soon as his fingers brushed its surface. His posture stiffened. "You're right. It's very strong
in the Force. Whoever owned this was not someone to underestimate." Michelan arched a brow at him. "Are you certain, Jano? Your sensitivity isn't exactly consistent." Jano smirked faintly. "It fluctuates. It doesn't lie." The holocron's light flickered brighter in his hands. Michelan shifted her attention to the other boy. "What about you, Elleian? Anything useful?" Elleian tightened his grip on the datapads. Dust flaked from their edges. "Records," he said. "Fragmented. Corrupted in places. But I can make out references to a coalition - 'The Eternal Alliance. And something called the Combini Doctrine." Michelan's expression sharpened. "Combini?" Elleian nodded. "Neutral Force philosophy. Neither Jedi nor Sith. There are references to leaders... but most of the names are redacted." Jano let out a low whistle. "Sounds like heresy." "Or progress," Michelan replied quietly. Silence settled between them.
Wind moved faintly through the collapsed ceiling far above. Jungle growth had claimed most of the structure, but this chamber had remained sealed - untouched. "For how long?" Michelan murmured. Elleian glanced down at the datapads again. "Based on the timestamps I can salvage? Roughly a century since formal disbandment. But the deeper records imply the foundation goes back much further." Michelan studied the holocron again. A century since collapse. Three centuries since legend. The Force around the artifact shifted. Subtle. Intentional. And then The light steadied. Not activated. Just... aware. Jano frowned. "Did you feel that?" Michelan nodded slowly. "Yes." She didn't say what she actually felt. Not power. Not darkness, but judgment. Across the galaxy, something stirred.
Lord Borias Wownomore did not sleep. He had felt the Alliance rise. He had felt it fracture. And now—He felt blood. Not the overwhelming surge of raw power. But recognition. Measured. Curious. Three signatures intertwined. One stable. One fluctuating. One untrained but sharp. He did not appear. He did not speak. At least, not yet. Instead, the holocron in Michelan's hand warmed slightly. As if waiting. Michelan closed her fingers around the holocron. It did not activate. It did not project. It simply hummed faintly — like something breathing in its sleep. Jano watched her carefully. "You're holding it too long," he muttered. "If it's unstable..." "It's not unstable," Michelan replied. "It's restrained." That word lingered
Friday snippets
here’s a new WIP.
part 4 of the Old Republic series.
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