As the lift breached the floor beneath, they rose up to see banners hung from virtually every wall, all of them depicting the image of a closed eye with a few tears falling. Beneath them were several buildings that, unlike the well-constructed labyrinth levels below, had clearly been designed more for form than function. Calen could see several buildings that were clearly meant to be residents, meant for the super wealthy. Or, at least, what must have passed for super wealthy out this far on a mining colony that had long since stopped being used for that purpose. That being said, however, the buildings were decorated with tempered durasteel and precious gemstones to be as gaudy and ritzy as any of the manor houses of Coruscant.
At the center of it all, however, was a massive complex. It towered over everything, at the exact center of the great chasm that was the Ascended Level. If the other buildings had been gaudy and garish, this was something beyond even that. Calen was convinced that it would draw the eyes of the blind.
“The Grand Cathedral of the Ascended Path.” Ordos announced as they approached.
“Reminds me of Glin’s backroom.” Calen muttered, half-jokingly, and earned a ghost of smile from Ordos and a sound that he could have sworn was a stifled snort. The Cathedral was at least three times the height of the next tallest building, and was uniform in how it was covered with a mosaic of flawless stones, each caught the artificial lights coming from all directions and reflected it in a rather unpleasantly blinding way.
The lift opened up, and the soundproof haven they had been cradled in was suddenly opened to raucous noise that rose from below. Calen could not discern any one thing the gathered crowds moving through the streets toward the Grand Cathedral were saying. There were shouts of praise to the Perceptors, the Grand Perceptor, and to the Waking Eye. Without the context, however, he was simply left confused.
“What does it mean, though?” Calen asked as they left the safety of the lift and moved with the crowds.
“Sentient beings all across the galaxy have always looked for meaning.” Ordos said. “The Philosophy of Te Padka, the Zealots of Psusan, the Unifras...maybe one for every star in the sky for all I know.”
“So...it’s all just...nonsense?” Calen asked.
“I wouldn’t be saying that too loud around the Perceptors, if I were you.” Ordos hissed, elbowing him in the side a bit. “I’ve been across the galaxy, kid, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned in all of it, it’s that there’s always some truth to the stories.”
“Always?”
“Always.” Ordos affirmed. “Even if it's lies. Back during the War-” he was cut off, further, from a group of gray robed individuals coming forward to them, their robes emblazoned with that same symbol of the closed eye weeping. In one hand, they each had a stone slab that also bore the symbol, in the other they had a small container of water.
“Wash the Waking Eye, travelers!” One spoke, and the others echoed. Ordos reached his hand forward into one of their containers, taking some of the liquid in his cupped palm, and then pressing it against the stone. He did not have to look at Calen to get him to do the same. “Peace and Ascension be upon you!”
“And also upon you, that we all may one day see more clearly.” Ordos said, giving a slight nod of his head, after which the group moved away from them to speak to others.
“They really do believe it.” Calen muttered, somewhat awed from the rather surreal experience.
“Belief is sometimes all you have.” Ordos said. “Especially for people like them. Look at them. Most of them have lived here all their lives, they don’t know anything other than their faith. It’s not like back on Coruscant, where I’m sure you had plenty of variety.”
“Not so much.” Calen shook his head. “Dad never cared much for...fairy tales...as he called it. Said it was too fancy free...or seditious, like the Jedi.”
“Didn’t know much about the Jedi, did he?"
“He fought alongside a few of them in the War.” Calen said. “Said they were good people until they turned against the Republic.”
“They never turned against the Republic, kid.” Ordos said. Calen stared at him. “Trust me. I know. In all the years I’ve lived...when the Republic was still around, there wasn’t a person I knew of in the whole galaxy who was willing to live and die for the Republic than the Jedi.” Calen frowned, trying to work that together in his mind. The Jedi? Loyalists to the Republic? It couldn’t be so. Before he could ponder the thought any further, however, they were approached by another group of gray robed individuals.
“Brothers! Glorious is the hour!” The one at the front of the group claimed, pressing a bundle of clothing into Calen’s hands...a set of black robes. He stared in confusion at them. “What’s wrong, Brother? It is a gift! You are here as Initiates, are you not?”
“Of course we are, Brother. Thank you.” Ordos cut in, accepting a similiar set from another gray robed individual. “You must forgive my young friend here, he is quite awestruck.”
“So are we all who have lived to see such times!” The young man in the robes beamed. “The Grand Perceptor, in our city! With news of the coming Ascension! It is most glorious!” Then, much to Calen’s surprise, the man embraced him and slapped his back. “Do not worry, brother! Soon, we shall all be as one on the Path!” Calen, still stunned, said nothing as the man and his group departed, his jaw hanging slack for several seconds.
“You’re going to catch flies. C’mon.” Ordos said, grabbing his arm and pulling him along to a small building that had been set up as a sort of dressing room. “You go in first. Get changed.”
“Wha-What about my-?” Calen started to ask.
“We’ll have to check anything on us at the door, but we’ll get it back, just relax.” Ordos said.
“You really have a lot of familiarity with them…” Calen said, a brow raised suspiciously.
“And you’re really taking too long. Go.” Ordos said, leaving Calen behind a curtain to change. He quickly did so, surprised at how well the black robes actually fit. He stepped back out and Ordos got in and changed, coming out less than a minute later.
“So...we’re...Initiates?” Calen asked.
“Yes. Black robes are Initiates. Gray robes are Brothers and Sisters. White robes are for Perceptors.” Ordos said, making it plain. “I thought you said you’d read about this planet on the Holonet.”
“I skimmed.” Calen admitted sheepishly. Ordos rolled his eyes.
“Just keep your mouth shut, your eyes peeled and your ears open. If Tin has anything to do with the Church, we’ll likely hear something about it at this meeting.”
“You actually trust Beebus on this?”
“About as far as I can throw him, but if we need to see him again we know where he is.” Ordos intoned. “And, if he was lying, I think he’ll be a little more agreeable once he’s sat under a hot light in a cold room at the ISB for a while.” Calen shifted a little uncomfortably at the memory of the beating that the Rodian had taken after being tased. The whole thing, despite Ordos’ instance, still didn’t sit right with him in the least. It was pushed from his mind as they turned a corner, joining up with a great mass of people heading to the Grand Cathedral. More cries of praise and joy were heard as they approached a check in point. Ordos quickly removed his blaster and passed through the scanner, Calen doing the same.
“Pull your hood up.”
“What?”
“Pull your hood up.” Ordos repeated quickly, reaching at the back of his cloak and pulling up a hood. Fit over his face, Ordos’ face was covered to just below his nose almost forming a mask. Pulling up his own, Calen saw that the garment almost completely covered the eyes.
‘They really are taking this eye thing a little too far…’ He thought as he moved alongside Ordos toward the open doors of the Cathedral, doing his best not to step on anyone’s feet within the huddled crowd. It was far more difficult than he would have thought it to be, and the hood over most of his eyes did not help matters.
After several minutes of moving with the crowd, the light that was allowed them by the bottom part of the mask that did not impede the wearer’s vision deemed to disappear. The room they’d entered into was dark, and yet there was a heat in the place.
“BROTHERS AND SISTERS! Cast away the darkness and lift your eyes to the light of the Path!” Calen looked up, pulling back his hood. His eyes were blinded for several seconds before he realized what he was seeing - an open flame. An actual, open flame. Fire in a brazier. It was massive and it dominated the center of the room. Unlike the bright ornamentation of the Church and the buildings outside, it’s insides were very sparsely decorated. Several banners of the closed, weeping eye dominated the walls, but that was it.
The crowd swarmed around the brazier in the center, it’s light giving the only illumination and its heat pulsing throughout the room. The brazier was led up to by four stairways, each set in one of the cardinal directions from it. Two humanoids stood at the top of the flat-topped pyramid this created. The first was a human, so far as he could tell. What was most distinctive about him was that he wore pure white robes, seemingly untouched by the perspiration the man must surely be feeling so close to the flames. Around his head was wrapped a cloth of the same kind, into a stylized turban. His arms were behind his back, and he smiled upon the crowds that had gathered. The other, standing next to him (and looking a great deal more uncomfortable) was Tin Daheel.
Calen started to move forward, only to be caught at the shoulder by Ordos, who shook his head.
“Wait,” was all he said.
“We walk the Path!” The man in white’s voice boomed out across the room, echoing.
“We seek the Light of Perception!” The crowd chanted.
“And we shall Ascend to it!” The man in white called out.
“We shall Ascend to its blinding glow! We shall see all!” The crowd chanted in response. It proved Ordos’ words correct, this was clearly something that had been drilled into them. "We shall see all! We shall see all! We shall see all!" The crowd was worked up into a frenzy, there were many loud chants and yells of praise from them. Soon enough, however, the Man raised his hands...and all was quiet. Surprisingly quickly, in fact.
“My flock! Tidings of joy upon you all! Long have we toiled along the Path to Perception! Our ancestors faced persecution, revolution, and woes plenty. But they endured. They endured for us! They built for us, on this blessed world, the foundation of what we have become! It is because of them that we can bring Perception to the galaxy! We can Ascend beyond what we are!”
“Ascension! Ascension!” The cries came up from the crowds.
“And the time of Ascension is nigh!” The man cried out. More frenzied cries. “Yes! Our time upon this plane is coming to its end! We have outlasted the decadent and rotten Republic and their false, traitor-prophets, the Jedi!” More cries, more praise, more zealotry from the flock. “Yes! And now, the final sign has been made clear to me! We have, all and one, seen the fate of Alderaan. The folly of that world, forever stricken from the Path!”
Calen grimaced, shifting uncomfortably on the spot. No one seemed to care or give him mind either way. The man continued on. “From Pergitor, the World of Bones, we have watched the galaxy in turmoil! They seek Perception, even if they do not know its name, my children! They did not know that the means to bring them what they so sought was here this whole time!” Excited murmuring took the place of the cheers and cries. “Right below our very feet, among the smoke and ash of our world, the Heart of Derriphan awaits!”
That word, Derriphan, made Calen even more ill at ease. He wasn’t sure what it was about it, but he sworn he could feel his skin crawling as though he’d just been dropped into a vat filled with wriggling insects. “Derriphan made his Ascension long ago! But he left behind the means for us to follow him, like the best of our Ascended!” He raised a hand, gesturing to Tin Daheel. “And with our new allies, we shall find it and carry it hence from Pergitor. The time has come, my children!” The din rose up again. “Praise them! Praise the Ancestors! Praise Derriphan in his foresight! Praise our allies, even non-believers though they may be!” Tin Daheel gave a toothy, but clearly uncomfortable smile.
“Through this man, we have the means to carve from the bowels of our world the key to our salvation!” There were cheers, Calen feeling a little bit of satisfaction as Tin was clearly not enjoying the attention. But only a little that remained insignificant next to the discomfort he felt. “Among you now, my children...is one who will aid us as well! Though he does not know it any more than you do!” The room, right then, fell silent. Nervous faces looked around, with whispers to one another.
“Does he mean you?”
“Are you the one?”
“Does he mean him?”
“By the Ancestors, to get to help the Grand Perceptor!”
Calen felt the urge to do something, even if he did not have any idea exactly what it was that he might do.
“I think it is best that he come and introduce himself, don’t you all?” The man in white called out, and the crowd cheered. It was then, in that next moment, that the man up on the stairs said something that made Calen’s blood run cold. “Calen Darkhaven! It’s time for you to step forward!”
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