2005, England.

  "What did you think of the film?"

  Des turned his head to look at his dad before answering "It was good, I liked it.". He returned his attention back to staring out the window, watching the landscape pass by.

  Curious about the seeming lack of enthusiasm, his father asked "what was wrong with it?"

  Turning back Des thought about it for a second before answering "well, putting aside the whole dying of a broken heart nonsense, I'd say the problem was the ships. they looked awesome, sleek and stylish for sure. But they didn't feel right" Des paused again trying to figure out how to put words to his feelings “take the falcon right, that shi-"

  "You said the falcon was ugly" his dad interrupted with a little chuckle.

  "It is but that's not the point, it felt...real, lived in. The falcon wasn't just a ship it was a home, Han and Chewies home and there wasn't any ship like that in the new movies", Des stopped there seeming to realise he was getting carried away "it just...made the ships feel less real to me" he turned back to the window, this time leaning his head against it feeling the small vibrations of the car.

  "You know work is making me use up my vacation days at the end of the month. Your mum's already got me redecorating the kitchen but. If you give me a hand we could get it finished quicker and get working on the camper van. it doesn't need that much to get it back on the road and we could have it ready for your summer break"

  Des smiled "you do realise that's right in the middle of my exams?"

  "ditch em" his dad quipped

  he burst out laughing "I can't, someone told me they were important" he gave a pointed look at his father to make it clear who that was before resting his head against the glass once more. "besides mum would be mad if we did that"

  "So I can count on your help in the kitchen then? seeing as you're so worried about making your mum mad"

  Des thought about it, it would be nice to get to work on the camper with his dad but the tests this year feel different, more important, he knew his dad wasn't serious about skipping them but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't tempted

  he turned to say just that but the words died in an instant of sheer terror. He could see the car that was about to collide with them but his father was facing the wrong way. A shout to warn him began without any input from Des but it was too late. The last sensation Des felt before all turned to black was a bone shattering impact to his head.

  ***

  Des drifted.

  Pain saturated every inch of his body but he was unaware of this, he was unaware of everything. Conscious thought was a distant star far out of his reach. Existence to Des was a disjointed bundle of sensations crashing against the barely functioning remnants of his mind. Instinct and scar tissue tried its best to process what little made it through but if anything was gained from the attempt none could say.

  Des drifted and time passed.

  Whatever remained of him clung on. With the tenacity of a mindless beast the remnant of Des sunk its teeth into life itself and refused to let go. Year after year passed and he persisted yet none would call it living.

  Des drifted, time passed and the world moved on.

  ***

  Coming back to consciousness was like nothing he had ever experienced before. He did not wake up, instead he realised he was awake. It was as if he was dreaming and in this dream he was running, but in the way of dreams the running was all that existed. There was no landscape, no road and no destination, only the running. Then realising in the middle of a stride that this is not a dream I am actually awake and running.

  Des wasn’t running. When he realised he was awake he seemed to be in the middle of a conversation with someone or something yet he could perceive nothing but blackness. He started to think back trying to recall the conversation only to be brought to his knees by the waterfall of memories cascading through him.

  Images, sounds and sensations slowly formed into semi coherent memories outlining the horrifying knowledge of just what had happened to him. The truth of it was too much. For a time he just didn’t think, to think would be to acknowledge it, to make it real, to make it Final. He held onto his blank state of mind for as long as he could but eventually he had to face it.

  ‘Fifty. Seven. years.’

  That’s how long he was that drooling…pile of meat. Unable to move, to think, to do anything at all. A ghost of a ghost trapped in a still living corpse persisting despite its own best interests. His whole life gone and he didn’t get to do anything, the grief he felt for the life he never lived burned inside him but it was put aside for now as another grief rose within his thoughts

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  ‘Mum, Dad’ his newly remade memories were not clear as to the fates of his parents, he had images of his mother, older than he remembers and clearly beaten down by life but there was nothing of his father. The last memory of him was that last car ride.

  ‘I think he must have died in the crash’ that was the conclusion Des reached while dwelling on his fathers absence. He decided all things considered that that was probably a better fate than he himself had suffered and possibly better than what his mother had endured. Based on the memories she had been the one to take care of him. She fed him, bathed him, wiped his arse, always by his side growing older and more broken the further he moves along in the memories until she’s just gone and a stranger takes her place. Though he does not know this new woman in his memories a name comes with her ‘Susan’ and along with the name comes shocking knowledge.

  ‘She killed me’ the thought ground his mind to a halt, stuttering back to himself, he didn’t know whether to laugh and praise her for what she’d done or curse her to the depths of hell.

  ‘Wait she killed me…I’m dead’ amongst all the revelations he was experiencing this one shocked him less than it should have. It was as if part of him had been already aware of this and dealing with it for some time. Still that begged the question ‘if I’m dead then where am I?’

  His focus turned outward for the first time since he had regained his ability to think and he once again perceived nothing but blackness. Come to think of it, it was utterly silent as well. He cycled through his remaining senses seeking any form of input but there was none, he was in complete sensory isolation.

  Des thought back to when he had first come too, remembering that sense of having been talking to someone, he pulled at it, trying to shake something loose from his stitched together mind.

  There was definitely something there, a memory that had no context and didn’t make any sense.

  ‘2000 Karma Remaining. Choose’

  As he considered what it could mean he felt the thought resonate, it was as if every time he thought the word choose something external thought it along with him. A shiver ran through him at the sensation but with nothing else to focus on except the traumatic memories of ‘Vegetable Des’ what else was he going to do but push on.

  ‘Choose, but Choose what?’ At that thought a shadow of the memory waterfall from earlier recurred but it was significantly different, lesser and like the resonance he felt to the word choose earlier also external in nature. Now Des knew what he had to choose but he also knew he was missing some serious context. ‘Choose Tertiary Powers’ while that made sense in and of itself, it was clearly part of something larger that he was unaware of. He needed to understand what was going on. He needed answers and something had already given him one.

  For an unknown length of time Des tried asking every question that came to mind, question followed by question but nothing provoked a response no matter how long he tried. Just to make sure he hadn’t imagined it he thought the word choose yet again and yes there was that feeling, it was directionless but distinct enough that he was sure he was not mistaken.

  ‘I think choose and it responds, earlier I wondered what I was to choose and got an answer. So what are my choices?’ again the knowledge was somehow pushed directly into his mind and this time it was a sea of endless options.

  Des groaned internally as the scale of the overwhelming selection registered in his mind but before he could even begin to despair at that a second much smaller dump of knowledge caught his attention.

  ‘Selections Made, All Karma Spent’

  Along with that bit of info came the knowledge of the four choices he was sure he had not made. He tried to examine the new information within himself but he got very little before it began sinking into the untouchable reaches of his subconscious.

  Frustration swelled within Des, everything had happened so fast just now. ‘This is bullshit’ he thought, not only had these choices been made for him but almost every detail about them had been taken too. All he got in that brief moment was the name of two of them “Meditation” and “Inventory” and the fact that the Inventory grows with age.

  Where was he? Why is he here? Why is he choosing powers? If he chose tertiary powers does that mean he has other powers? All these questions and more weighed on Des mixing with his frustration and grief. He knew he wasn’t going to get any answers, everything that had happened since he’d realised he was awake and thinking again told him that he wasn’t getting them. He wanted this, whatever it was to be finished, he wanted it done.

  Once more his mind took in new knowledge from someone or something unknown and Des felt a tired smile break through his growing emotions.

  ‘Are You Ready?’

  With this he knew he was finished here. He only had to think his agreement and whatever came next would come. Heaven, hell, rebirth or maybe something he could not begin to imagine. Whatever it was he hoped it would be better than this increasingly creepy void.

  ‘Des very deliberately thought the word Yes

  In an instant he went from sensory deprivation to overload, His sight was blinded, his hearing drowned out and there was pain. A headache already beyond his ability to handle continued to blossom and grow and the scream that tore out from him was the last he knew before consciousness fled him.

  ***

  Waking up the usual way might have been reassuring to Des had he not had his focus squarely on the lingering headache, it was bad but he gritted his teeth and tried to open his eyes. The light acted as an amplifier to the pain, His hands went to his head and he squeezed his eyelids back together.

  Des focused on his breathing and rubbed his temples in an attempt to lessen the pain. After what could only have been twenty seconds but felt much longer, the pain receded to its previous level. He dared not reopen his eyes but he could listen.

  There was nothing loud or obvious, just soft indistinct noises. He thought he must be indoors given the lack of wind or other natural sounds. Also he was lying on something soft, possibly a bed, so it seemed like a safe assumption.

  A soft swish followed by gentle footsteps caused him to turn his head and open his eyes, again the pain surged and he clamped them shut but it was fractionaly better than last time.

  A hand was on his shoulder and he felt something press against his neck before a cool sensation washed over him bringing some relief from the pain.

  “There, how does that feel?” a warm feminine voice inquired.

  “Better.” the headache was steadily simmering down “where am I? What happened?”

  “Be at peace little one” She squeezed his shoulder in a reassuring manner and continued “you are in the medical wing, you’re safe. You had a seizure, do you know what that means?

  Des responded in the affirmative but found it an odd question. Before he could dwell on that thought she continued.

  “You were found shortly afterward and brought here where you have been recovering nicely. I’m guessing from these readings you have a very sore head but that should pass soon. You should be ok to open your eyes now”

  He did so cautiously. The too bright light was all he could see at first but there was no surge of pain and as his eyes adjusted he began to take in his surroundings and the middle aged woman standing at his side before moving down to himself.

  He was small. He had not noticed any difference in how his body felt so seeing the obvious changes from what he remembered was jarring.

  “Are you ok?” she asked, seeming to sense his distress.

  “Yes,” Des replied while continuing to look over his reduced form, how could he explain his reaction, even if he was willing to tell her everything that had happened to him, what would he say, he didn’t understand it himself. The look of concern on her face was compelling, he needed to say something but nothing was coming to mind. ‘Better to say nothing for now’ he thought ‘at least till I know more’,

  An awkward silence stretched but Des held quiet, he deliberately kept his eyes on himself so as to not give away anything more. “How long will I be in here?” he asked, attempting to shift her attention.

  She smiled at him before checking a pad-like device that detached from her waist. “Well, you are recovering quickly, at this rate a few hours i’d say but i’d like to ask you some questions just to be sure there is nothing wrong I can't see. What's your name?”

  “Desmond Cane” She asked it in such a casual manner his answer was more reflex than anything else. He noticed a slight creasing of her brow but he got an odd feeling that he should not worry about it.

  “And where are we?”

  The first thought that came was the medical wing, she had said that earlier but a much broader answer came with it that simply could not be correct. It was too ridiculous, so he gave her his first answer and hoped it would be enough.

  It was not.

  As she stared at him, her eyes seemed to demand that he say the words that were in his head. With a tone of finality he spoke the words that would surely condemn him as crazy.

  “Jedi Temple, Coruscant”