The Holocron
Tersik
1 DBY, 3rd Month
Three months had passed since their return from an archaeological expedition to one of the forgotten planets of the Infinite Empire, and a month since he learned the truth about himself.
During this time, Alex had conducted extensive research, trying to find more information about this Kreia. And what he discovered shocked him to the core.
Kreia was not just a scientist. She was a Jedi Master who lived during the Old Republic era. But the most astonishing thing was that she disappeared under mysterious circumstances during the Mandalorian Wars, and the last mentions of her name linked her to Revan. Perhaps more information was stored in the Jedi archives, but he had no agents with access there.
"Alex?" Verena's voice interrupted his thoughts.
He turned around. His companion stood in the doorway of the study, leaning against the doorframe. Even from a distance, he could feel the tension radiating from her in waves. Usually reserved and calm, the Twi'lek looked disheveled.
"Again?" he asked, needing no explanation.
Verena nodded, entering the study and closing the door behind her.
"In the repair hangar. A droid technician miscalibrated the hyperdrive. I..." she clenched her fists, "I almost smashed it against the wall."
Alex stood up and walked over to her. Verena was a head shorter than him, but now she seemed even smaller – as if shrinking from her own strength, which she couldn't control.
"It happened to me today too," he admitted. "Engineer Kyle made a mistake in the shield calculations. A simple, routine mistake. I got so angry that the tools on his desk started levitating. Good thing he managed to retreat."
"It's not us," Verena whispered. "It's not like us. I was never aggressive. And now... now any little thing makes me furious. But the strangest thing isn't that."
"What is it?"
"Everything else," Verena's voice trembled. "Yesterday, I figured out the navigation system in half an hour that I had been studying for a month. I can sense the intentions of sentient beings from a distance. And also..." she blushed, "when we... when we are together... I feel not only my emotions but yours too."
Alex put his arms around her shoulders. He felt her fear – the fear of losing control.
"I've noticed that too," he said quietly. "I think faster, I see connections I didn't notice before. Yesterday, I designed an engine modification in an hour that I had struggled with for a week. But when I'm happy, it's like euphoria. When I'm angry – I want to kill."
"What's happening to us?"
"You know yourself," he said seriously. "Blood analysis showed a sharp increase in midi-chlorian count. Something in those Rakata ruins changed us."
Verena pulled away and looked him in the eyes.
"And what do we do? There are no more Jedi. The Empire destroyed them. And I don't want to surrender to the Empire either."
Alex nodded slowly, then walked to the safe in the corner of the study. He entered the code, and the massive door opened silently, revealing its contents – several ancient artifacts, among which a small, dark pyramid-shaped crystal with silver veins stood out.
"Remember Dooku's base?" he asked, carefully extracting a container with something. "Remember I asked you about Kreia? This is that holocron."
He showed her the crystal.
"She created it. That very Kreia..."
Verena stared at the holocron with a mixture of fear and curiosity.
"Do you want to activate it?"
"Honestly, not really. It's a huge risk. But I don't know anyone who could help," he noted. "This morning you almost destroyed a droid. I'm also a bit out of sorts. We're losing control. And it's getting worse every day. And I also want to see her."
"But what if she tries to change us? You yourself said that her holocron was with Dooku."
Alex thought. Indeed, the connection was suspicious. Count Dooku was a Jedi who defected to the Separatists. He had heard from Shire that he was a Sith. Maybe. And he had Kreia's holocron...
"I studied holocron theory at the CIT. Remember I told you about Associate Professor Well?" Alex said, checking the interface settings. "She gave me a lecture archive on holocrons back in college. I never had enough time to study everything. Back then, I was more interested in hyperdrives, but now this knowledge has come in handy. Shall we take a look?"
"Kai-Den Mul," Alex read the inscription on the data crystal. " 'Notes of Master Kai-Den Mul, Archivist of the Jedi Temple on Corellia. Subject: Holocron Setup and Unity with Ancient Wisdom...'
The notes are three hundred years old. Alex inserted the crystal into the holoprojector and activated it. A hologram of a sturdy old man with a rather stern but calm gaze appeared.
The holographic figure materialized with a characteristic shimmer, its contours becoming sharp. The Master Archivist – a gray-haired Jedi with piercing eyes – began to speak in a measured, academic tone:
"Greetings, Padawans. Today, we will delve into one of the most complex and revered technologies of the Jedi Order – the art of creating holocrons."
The Master rose from behind the table, his movement unhurried, filled with dignity. Running a hand through his gray beard – a gesture betraying a long-standing habit of deep contemplation – he continued:
"Dismiss romantic notions of 'imprinting the soul into a crystal.' We are dealing with the most precise science of consciousness copying, based on principles that our predecessors developed over millennia. The crystal blanks themselves are works of ancient masters, whose technology is irretrievably lost. Their number is strictly limited, and almost all of them are concentrated here and in the Great Temple on Coruscant."
His voice took on solemn notes:
"If your knowledge reaches the proper level, if you prove your readiness, you will be honored with the creation of your own holocron. But first, let us study the process itself."
With a smooth flick of his finger, the master activated the holoprojector. A complex diagram of a crystalline matrix appeared in the air, its facets shimmering in the bluish light. The archivist's voice became stricter, acquiring academic precision:
"A holocron is a synthetic mind, trained to imitate a specific personality with maximum accuracy. The process of its creation involves six critically important stages, each requiring flawless execution."
The Master began to move around the holographic projector at a measured pace, his hands clasped behind his back in a classic mentor's pose:
"The first stage is the preparation of a quality information source. In our case, the source is the creator of the holocron themselves."
A detailed diagram of the human brain with pulsating neural pathways appeared on the hologram. The Master stopped, thoughtfully rubbing his temple:
"Like any machine learning system, a holocron can only produce results no better than the initial data. The creator's mental preparation is analogous to cleaning and structuring data before the compilation process."
The tone became cautionary, the master raised his index finger:
"Any informational 'noise' – unresolved internal conflicts, suppressed emotions, worldview contradictions – will be accurately reproduced in the holocron. Meditative practices serve to stabilize emotional patterns."
A pause. The Master massaged the bridge of his nose, searching for a suitable analogy:
"Imagine: you are calibrating a crystalline mind based on data that constantly fluctuates. Today, the creator reacts to stress in one way, tomorrow – in a completely different way. The holocron will record both patterns and generate unpredictable, contradictory results."
"The second stage is the activation of a pure crystal and the launch of the synthetic mind's basic architecture."
The hologram showed an empty crystalline structure, which gradually filled with glowing connections. The Master picked up one of the training crystals, turned it in the light, observing the play of refractions:
"Initially, it's a primitive system – capable only of generating questions and cataloging answers. Conceptually, it's a crystalline matrix with elementary logical connections."
A visualization of a simple interviewer program appeared on the diagram. The Master put down the crystal, his tone becoming more serious:
"The interviewer program is a primary data collection algorithm. It generates thousands of systematized questions, methodically mapping the creator's personality. Each answer is subjected to multi-level analysis: semantic content, emotional coloring, physiological reactions, fluctuations in connection with the Force."
The Master stopped, his gaze becoming serious:
"However, to obtain a truly high-quality result after initial calibration, specialized equipment will be required."
A strange circlet materialized on the hologram – an elegant device made of an unknown metal with embedded crystals pulsating with soft light:
"A high-class neuro-interface. Several such devices exist, but only those stored in the Great Temple on Coruscant have a special mode for creating holocrons."
The Master pointed to the device, his voice taking on a special importance:
"This interface must be worn by the creator for at least a year – ideally even longer. It continuously takes readings of your attitude towards everything happening: every thought, every emotion, every reaction to external stimuli."
The diagram showed a complex network of neural connections that the interface tracked in real-time. The Master began to walk, his movements becoming more energetic:
"Imagine: the device records not only your conscious decisions but also micro-reactions, subconscious impulses, emotional fluctuations. This creates an incredibly detailed map of your personality – much more precise than any interviews or tests."
The tone became more trusting:
"Moreover, during the process of wearing the interface, a certain... editing is possible. If you discover undesirable behavioral patterns or reactions, they can be corrected. The device allows you to identify and modify even those aspects of personality that usually remain hidden from the wearer themselves."
The Master stopped, his expression becoming sad:
"Unfortunately, there have been many cases where holocron creators neglected this stage. Either out of impatience, or out of arrogance, or simply due to the unavailability of the interface."
He shook his head:
"The result in such cases is invariably mediocre. The holocron turns out superficial, lacking depth, incapable of truly complex reasoning. It's like building a house on a shaky foundation."
The hologram showed a comparison of two holocrons—one, created using a neuro-interface, shone with complex internal connections; the other looked primitive.
"The third stage is directed learning, which now, thanks to the neuro-interface data, becomes incredibly effective."
The diagram showed an intense exchange of data between the interface and the crystal. The Master spread his hands:
"The system already knows your true reactions to thousands of situations. Now the task is to structure this knowledge and teach the holocron to apply it."
"The morning sessions are dedicated to loading factual knowledge: historical events, scientific theories, technical skills. But now each fact is automatically linked to your emotional attitude towards it, as recorded by the interface."
The Master rubbed his chin thoughtfully:
"The afternoon sessions are for in-depth emotional calibration. The interface provides data on how you truly feel about various concepts, not just what you think about your feelings."
Complex feedback loops appeared on the diagram:
"The evening discussions become a process of fine-tuning. The holocron generates responses based on the interface's deep data, and the creator verifies their accuracy. By the end of this period—three to six months—accuracy reaches 85-90%, which is significantly higher than without the interface."
The Master adopted a serious expression:
"The fourth stage—working with hidden data—is significantly simplified thanks to the neuro-interface."
"The interface has already recorded subconscious patterns over a year of wear. Childhood traumas, irrational fears, secret desires—all of this has already been cataloged and structured."
The hologram showed deep layers of data, neatly organized by the interface:
"This stage, which usually takes a year or two of agonizing work, is reduced to a few months of technical integration. By the end, accuracy reaches 96-98%."
"The fifth stage is transforming the simulation system into an autonomous mind."
The diagram showed the process of "detaching" the system:
"Autonomy tests, fine-tuning, implementation of ethical constraints—all are performed based on the interface's exhaustive data. The system turns out to be significantly more stable and predictable."
"The sixth stage is final compilation. The neuro-interface performs the last synchronization between the creator's consciousness and the crystalline matrix—a process impossible without this unique device."
The Master leaned back in his chair, his tone becoming philosophical:
"What do we get in the end? When using a neuro-interface—a synthetic mind practically indistinguishable from the original, capable of complex reasoning and generating truly new ideas. The accuracy of imitation reaches 99%."
He raised a cautionary finger:
"Without the interface—a mediocre copy, capable only of superficial imitation of the most obvious personality traits. The difference is colossal."
The Master stood up, his movements becoming solemn:
"Creating a holocron is not a mystical ritual, but a complex engineering project. But when you see the result of working with a neuro-interface, when your copy demonstrates true autonomy and depth of thought..."
His voice became quieter, almost reverent:
"At that moment, the line between science and magic truly blurs."
The hologram began to fade. The Master clasped his hands, his tone becoming solemn:
"This technology requires the utmost caution, patience, and—critically—the right tools. Do not neglect the neuro-interface if you want to create something truly worthy. The lecture is over. May the Force be with you... and may you have enough wisdom not to rush."
The holographic projection disappeared, leaving only the quiet hum of the crystals and the feeling that the path to perfection requires not only knowledge but also the right tools.
"So, if we activate Kreia's holocron, we'll meet a copy of her personality?"
"Exactly. For this, the neuro-interface has a special operating mode."
Alex pointed to the settings screen.
"See this mode? 'Special protection when working with holocrons.' I discovered it when I was studying the interface after activating Kreia's program. Maximum psychic protection, constant monitoring of all changes in brain activity. Honestly, I have doubts about its reliability, but we have no other choice right now."
He put on the helmet and felt a sense of security—as if an invisible wall had grown around his mind.
"Ready," he said, taking Kreia's holocron.
"I'll stay here," Verena declared. "If something goes wrong, I'll disconnect you."
"Good."
Alex sat in the chair, made himself comfortable, and focused on the holocron. He remembered Master Maul's words about the necessity of meditation, about allowing the ancient technology to feel a living consciousness...
He closed his eyes and delved within himself. His breathing became even, his heartbeat slowed. The Force—he could feel it now—flowed around him, and he allowed it to flow through the holocron too...
The crystal grew warm in his hands. First, barely noticeably, then stronger and stronger. Sparks of light in its depths began to pulsate in rhythm with his heartbeat.
The world around him began to blur...
Alex awoke in a place that inspired unease. He stood on the edge of a vast necropolis under a black sky dotted with stars. Rows of ancient tombstones stretched to the horizon, their darkened stone covered with inscriptions in long-forgotten languages. Some monuments rose like towers, others were complex sculptural compositions depicting unknown heroes and sages of the past.
"This isn't real," he thought, but the place felt absolutely authentic. A cold wind carried the scent of time and oblivion. Somewhere in the distance, water gurgled softly—perhaps a river.
Narrow paths, paved with dark stone, wound between the tombstones. Alex chose one and moved forward, feeling the smooth surface of the slabs under his feet, polished by millennia.
In the center of the necropolis, on a small elevation, stood a temple. It was built of the same dark stone as the tombstones, but its lines were alive, organic. The columns twisted like plant stems, and the arches resembled intertwined branches. There was no roof—only an open space under the starry sky.
Alex ascended the steps and entered. In the center of the temple, with her back to him, sat a figure in dark robes. A woman. She was motionless, like a statue, her back straight as a taut string.
Her lips moved silently. Long silver hair cascaded down her shoulders, and her posture betrayed a habit of long hours of study and contemplation.
Alex took a step forward. The stone crunched under his boot.
The woman slowly raised her head, without turning. The movement was unhurried, full of dignity.
"It's been a long time since anyone was here," she said, and her voice was like music—low, melodious, captivating.
She turned to him. Her face struck him. Noble, finely chiseled features, high cheekbones, full lips. It was difficult to determine her age—she looked like a middle-aged woman. Her eyes were covered with a blindfold.
Alex felt something weightless touch the boundaries of his mind. The neuro-interface reacted instantly, creating a barrier.
Suddenly, the pressure vanished.
"Interesting," her voice sounded with new notes. "Did you truly navigate my labyrinth?"
She stood up, and Alex saw that she was tall and graceful. The dark robes were simple but fit perfectly.
"I wouldn't have come here," Alex said cautiously, "but I had no choice."
"And that's true," the woman agreed with a faint smile. "Come in, let's talk. My name is Kreia."
"Kreia?" Alex approached, but remained on guard. Something was wrong here. "I was looking for a Jedi Master named Kreia. A scholar and philosopher."
"And you found Darth Traya," she replied with a bitter smile. "Jedi Master Kreia and Darth Traya are one person, my friend. A Jedi who fell. An explorer who learned too much."
Alex felt a chill run down his spine. He had fallen into a trap. Instead of a wise Jedi mentor, he had encountered a fallen Jedi, a Sith Lord.
"You are afraid," Kreia observed, sitting back down among her scrolls and artifacts. "And rightly so. I am indeed dangerous. But not in the way you think. I contain both personalities. Right now, I am more of a Jedi; my dark side is under control. When I created this holocron, I took care of that. You have no idea how lucky you are that it's so."
She gestured to the spot in front of her.
"Sit. Since you're here, let's talk. Tell me, what led you to the holocron of a fallen Jedi?"
Alex hesitated, still standing. His survival instinct screamed at him to run, but he knew that in the virtual space of the holocron, escape was impossible. Besides, the neuro-interface hadn't signaled any alarms yet—the protection was holding.
"You made no mistake coming to me," Kreia said unexpectedly softly. "It was I who guided you, my student. Although I see you for the first time."
"What?" Alex sharply raised his head.
"The program that shaped your consciousness from childhood. The neural bridges in your brain. All of this is my creation."
She stood up and walked over to him.
"Don't be afraid, I won't harm you. In a sense, you are a part of my personality. Your consciousness is partially trained on my cognitive patterns. Otherwise, you were free to form yourself."
Alex slowly sank into the indicated spot, not taking his eyes off her.
"Why? Why did you do this?"
"Because I saw the future," Traya replied, returning to her scrolls. "I saw how the galaxy would plunge into darkness. How the Jedi and Sith would be destroyed, and then civilization would fall. I saw stagnation, degradation, the slow death of civilization."
She picked up one of the holocrons—a dark crystal with red veins.
"Dooku also saw this future, as did many before him. When this holocron was given to him, I showed him the truth about what awaited the galaxy."
"And what happened to him?"
Traya smiled sadly.
"He couldn't bear the truth. Do you know what's the most terrible thing about truth? When you learn it, it turns out to be too horrific to perceive. Dooku fell not because I turned him to the dark side. He fell because the truth shattered his faith in the Jedi, in the Republic, in the very possibility of good."
"And you didn't try to stop him?"
"I showed him an alternative," Traya put down the holocron. "I told him about my plan."
"And he refused?"
"He was afraid. You will be afraid too when you learn."
Traya walked to the edge of the temple, where the starry sky was visible between the columns.
"Recently, the Force revealed itself to you," she said, not turning. "And you don't know how to control it."
"How do you know?"
"Because I can feel. There is Force in holocrons, and Force allows you to feel emotions. Didn't you know?"
She turned to him.
"Tell me, what is happening? What symptoms are you observing?"
Alex described his condition and Verena's. About amplified emotions, new abilities, the fear of losing control.
"Of course, they've intensified," Traya nodded. "The ancient technologies for enhancement turned you into Force-sensitives. For their experiments, they needed test subjects with various levels of abilities. They knew how to artificially increase midi-chlorian concentration and enhance the connection to the Force. Before, the Force was an initiation into the highest caste. The midi-chlorians that enhanced you were collected from hundreds of sentient beings."
She sat down opposite him.
"You needed to be careful with their technologies. Some of their installations are still active and react to the presence of sentient life."
"And what will happen to me?"
"It depends on whether you learn to control your new abilities," Traya replied seriously. "In the best case, you will become a very powerful Force-sensitive. In the worst, amplified emotions will tear your mind apart."
Alex swallowed.
"Is there a way to prevent this?"
"Yes. But it requires understanding the nature of what happened to you. And for that, you need to study the Force itself."
She stood up and walked to one of the glowing artifacts.
"Tell me, what do you know about the nature of the Force?"
"What everyone knows. An energy field created by living beings. The Jedi use the light side, the Sith—the dark side."
"Children's tales," Traya dismissed. "The Force has no sides. It is a quantum field with special properties, permeating the entire galaxy. It reacts to consciousness, to emotions, to intentions. But in itself, it is neutral."
She turned to him.
"The Jedi and the Sith created artificial concepts of 'light' and 'darkness' to justify their philosophies. In reality, there is only the Force and how it is used."
"Then why do the Jedi forbid emotions?"
"Because it's one way not to go mad," bitterness crept into Traya's voice. "It's a way to protect the mind. Not the most effective, but it works."
She returned and sat next to him, closer than before.
"And the Sith?"
"The Sith are something fundamentally different. A special kind of mind."
"And which path is the right one?"
"It depends on your perspective," Traya replied simply. "Emotions are a part of you. They cannot be denied, but they cannot be allowed to control you either. They must be understood, accepted, and directed."
She placed her hand on his shoulder, and he felt warmth emanating from the touch.
"The Rakata technology amplified all your emotions proportionally. If before your anger was a stream, now it's a river. If before joy was a candle, now it's a bonfire. The problem is not the strength of emotions, but that you are not ready for such intensity. Your connection to the Force is growing, and the intensity will also grow. The Force is called the Force because it amplifies everything in you."
"And how do I prepare?"
"Through meditation. But not Jedi meditation of suppression, nor Sith meditation of cultivation. Meditation of observation and acceptance."
Traya stood up and walked to the edge of the temple.
"Close your eyes," she said. "Feel the Force around you."
Alex followed the instruction. Immediately, he felt the familiar flow of energy—powerful, pulsating, ready to be used.
"Do you feel it?"
"Yes."
"And now, do not try to use it or control it. Just observe. How it flows. Where it comes from. Where it goes."
At first, it was difficult. The Force seemed chaotic, uncontrollable. But gradually, Alex began to discern patterns. Energy truly flowed—from all living things and to all living things simultaneously. A complex, multidimensional network of connections, linking all existence.
"Do you see the pattern?" Traya asked quietly.
"Yes. It's... it's like a nervous system. A galactic nervous system."
"An excellent comparison. And now, feel your place in this system."
Alex focused deeper. He could feel himself as a node in a vast network—a point where many energy flows intersected and intertwined. And these flows became much more powerful than they should have been.
"I'm like... an overloaded node. Too much energy is passing through me."
"Precisely," Traya's voice sounded with approval. "Ten times more energy passes through you than through an ordinary sentient being. And therefore, any of your emotions, thoughts, actions have amplified consequences. You need to learn to control this so that you are not noticed."
Alex opened his eyes. Traya stood beside him, and the stars were reflected in her dark eyes.
"Not noticed by whom?"
"Other sensitives. It's dangerous for you. I will teach you to shield yourself."
She extended her hand to him.
"But it also means that you can become incredibly powerful if you learn to control this power."
Alex took her hand and stood up. The touch was warm, human, but through it, he felt immense power—an ocean of energy hidden beneath a calm surface.
"Will you agree to be my teacher?" he asked directly.
"I already have," Kreia replied. "From the moment you activated my holocron. From the moment my program began to shape your consciousness. I have been teaching you for a long time."
"But why? What will this give you?"
Kreia was silent for a long time, looking at the stars.
"The fulfillment of my goal."
"What?"
"The galaxy is rolling into an abyss. It's very large, so the fall is imperceptible, stretched over many millennia. The process of falling is long, but the fall will happen. Kreia wanted to prevent it, and I am her reflection, as are you, in part. I want to try to do something."
She turned to him.
"Besides, you interest me. You seek understanding, as I once did."
"And you think I can succeed?"
"Perhaps," Kreia shrugged. "You have potential. An artificially amplified connection to the Force, an analytical mind, the ability to see the system as a whole. But potential is not yet achievement."
The landscape around them began to slowly fade. The stars dimmed, the temple dissolved into twilight.
"Our time is coming to an end," Kreia said. "The first lesson is over."
"When will we meet again?"
"When you are ready," she replied mysteriously. "Meditate as I taught you. Observe the flows of the Force, study them, but do not try to control them. Understanding must precede control."
The temple vanished. The necropolis dissolved into mist. The last thing Alex saw was the blindfold on Kreia's eyes.
Alex opened his eyes and found himself in the chair in his office. The holocron lay on his lap, inactive. Verena sat beside him, watching him intently.
"How long was I gone?" he asked, removing the neuro-interface.
"About two hours," she replied. "I wanted to wake you several times, but all indicators were normal. What was in there?"
Alex slowly told her about the encounter. Verena listened silently, only occasionally asking clarifying questions. When he reached the explanation of their connection and the nature of their condition, her lekku trembled with emotion.
"Do you trust her?" Verena asked directly.
"No," Alex answered honestly. "She's a fallen Jedi. By definition, dangerous. If meditation helps, I will never activate the holocron again. At least not until I understand all the risks."
Alex took her hand. Through the touch, he felt something new—a weak but distinct connection through the Force. They were truly connected now, not only emotionally but also energetically.
"We'll start meditating tomorrow," he said. "We'll study the flows of the Force, learn to understand them."
"And today?"
Alex looked at the chronometer. It was already late.
"Today we rest. We'll need strength for what lies ahead."