It was ideal, in a way, that the amplification site known as the Temple of Pomojema was deep in the jungles of Mimban, rather than anywhere else more comfortable. The humidity could wear down all but the most determined of individuals, preventing camping out for overly long, but he was one such determined man.
Yet, this was not his first trek out to the location. Master Jannik did not stop by often, but when he did, it was most times a matter of wanting for a ‘view’ of the galactic landscape entire, that even he couldn’t manage, great as his strength was. Other times, far rarer times such as this day, he followed an unmistakable beckoning that was impossible to speculate on. Not that answering the call had ever pulled him here, before, but a good many other places.
As he ascended the steps, Jan pulled a Kaiburr shard bound by a strengthened cord from a pocket of his robes and wrapped the cord around his hand, closing his fingers around the shard of crystal. He had been feeling the progressive increase in its power the closer he got to the temple, to the entrance, and to the statue of the deity for whom the temple was named. It was only here that the Kaiburr had power as a focus of this place.
Once within, he placed his folded cloak before the statue of Pomojema and knelt upon it, with his palms up, hands resting upon his thighs, and opened himself up to the Force in full. With a faint invocation in the local tongue, his eyes slipped shut and he sank into the flows of the all-encompassing, of its will and time, with an ease born of decades… nay, millenia of this ritualistic practice, neither seeking, nor waiting, nor wondering, but giving himself over to it fully.
Soon enough, his temperature dropped to a significant chill, all he could perceive beyond the fade of his physical senses, oppressive humidity traded for cool dampness, his only warning before a potent vision took him:
Jan was released into the humid jungle air, shivering despite it, arms wrapping around himself as his heart thumped and he turned frantically to view… empty space beside him, while all that he had seen continued to fade from sight.
“What? How--”
He had sensed a presence from within the vision. He was sure of it.
“--No. It can’t be her.” He uttered, his breaths slowing as humid warmth seeped in and he turned a narrow glance up at the deity’s statue. “I’d have noti--” Realization struck as he could sense no remnant of another presence in the chamber, stopping him cold in his verbal tracks. They’d been in the vision with him, not outside of it. “--but who then? Why?”
Whoever they were. The seer ambled to his feet, pocketed the crystal shard, and retrieved his cloak from the floor of volcanic rock to make the trip back to his ship and draw up a record.
“And what rift on Tython?”
More questions than answers.
