It is a golden age, with the Jedi at the height of their power. But even the brightest light can cast a shadow, and some storms defy any preparation. A threat hides in the darkness, far from the light of the age, and harbours a secret that could strike fear into even a Jedi’s heart…
BELL ZETTIFAR FELT THE FIRST licks of atmosphere touch the craft. Their Vector didn’t have a name, not officially – all the ships were basically the same, and in theory interchangeable among their Jedi operators – but he and his master always used the same one, with the scoring along the wings from an ion storm they’d once flown through. The pattern looked like little starbursts, and so Bell – only in his mind, never spoken aloud – called their ship the Nova.
The Vectors were as minimally designed as a starship could be. Little shielding, almost no weaponry, very little computer assistance. Their capabilities were defined by their pilots. The Jedi were the shielding, the weaponry, the minds that calculated what the vessel could achieve and where it could go. Vectors were small, nimble. A fleet of them together was a sight to behold, the Jedi inside coordinating their movements via the Force, achieving a level of precision no droid or ordinary pilot could match.
They looked like a flock of birds, or perhaps fallen leaves swirling in a gust of wind, all drawn in the same direction, linked together by some invisible connection… some Force. Bell had seen an exhibition on Coruscant once, as part of the Temple’s outreach programs. Three hundred Vectors moving together, gold and silver darts shining in the sun above Senate Plaza. They split apart and wove into braids and whipped past one another at incredible, impossible speed. The most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. People called it a Drift. A Drift of Vectors.
This story is from the February 2021 edition of SFX.
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This story is from the February 2021 edition of SFX.
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ANCER MAHAGEMENT
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