Temple Guard Helmet

Down one row and then another, he followed his intuition and a tingle in his fingertips that might or might not have been imaginary. From time to time he glanced down at his feet to make sure he wouldn’t trip as he navigated the shelves that reached from floor to ceiling.

Soon he was standing before a mask.

No, a helmet.

It was the color of dry bone, with an abstract design on the face and two small slits for the eyes.

“Have you found something, sir?”

“Arzee, the tag says it’s a Temple Guard helmet. Do you think the Jedi had their own temple? I have to touch it.” Before the droid could dissuade him or the Ithorian merchant could return, Karr gently, lightly touched the pale blank face on the shelf. Lightning flashed behind his eyes.

A sea of white. No. A wall of white. Moving toward him.

He blinked hard.

Not a wall. Men. Troopers. Clone troopers marching in formation, but divided in the middle by something black. The men moved with purpose. With precision. More like a ceremonial procession than a battle. A parade, maybe? Or an exercise? Karr could only make out their movement. The colors were sharp and then dull. Karr focused hard, concentrating for all he was worth, and left two fingers on the mask—daring it to give him more and silently promising that he could take it.

The guard wearing the mask saw them approach. But there was no feeling of danger. There was only familiarity. Karr squinted to see more, but he couldn’t. But the guard saw who led the troopers. The figure in black. The driving force. Somehow Karr knew that, knew also that the guard was confused. Under his breath, behind the mask and for only himself to hear—except Karr could hear it, too—the guard said, “Skywalker?”

Then all hell broke loose.

Skywalker ignited his lightsaber and cut the Temple Guard down.

Karr could hardly believe it, and he didn’t understand it; he wanted to look away, but there wasn’t time, not even in a vision. Skywalker, if that was him, moved too swiftly, his violence as baffling and brisk as a magic trick. Blasters fired. Lightsabers swished. Bodies fell. People screamed. It was so hard to focus on any given detail, any given moment. The whole scene was a jerky, pale watercolor blur.

Karr gasped and released the mask, stumbling back into another shelf—but RZ-7 caught him and kept him from wreaking any havoc or ruining any of the pricey stock.

“Sir, are you all right? What did you see?”

“I don’t…I’m not sure. It was…it was bad, Arzee. Something went wrong. Really, really wrong.” He gasped and clutched the sides of his head, as if he could use the Force to calm the pain. Slowly, he got his breathing under control and the pain along with it.

Did it still hurt? Yes. Could he see without feeling spikes behind his eyes?

Also yes. Improvement all around. But was it worth seeing what he’d seen?

Dok-Ondar emerged from whatever back room or storage space he’d vanished into, holding a large glass case, the woman once again at his side. He barked at them, and the woman translated for him. “What have you done? Have you broken anything?”

The droid answered to buy his master a few extra seconds to gather his thoughts. “All’s well, sir. We were merely exploring. Karr has found this fascinating helmet, and we were hoping you could tell us more about it….”

“Ah, the helmet of the Temple Guards,” the woman translated for the Ithorian. “So you do know some Jedi lore.”

Karr wasn’t about to argue with him, so with all the composure he could muster, he said, “Yes, sir, I find it fascinating. Are you sure this came from the…Temple?”

“The Jedi Temple, yes. Or it came from one of the fellows who guarded it, at any rate. As I’m sure you’re aware, the guards were rendered anonymous with these helmets and their ceremonial robes—but I do not have any of their robes to sell, I fear. Nothing to go with the helmets, I mean.”

Karr couldn’t believe he could be so rattled by something that happened so long before. He took a few more deep breaths and tried to remind himself that no one else in the room took the journey with him. And that he needed to relax.

“It’s a shame,” agreed Karr finally. His vision had almost settled down, and he was hardly seeing double at all anymore. Seeing double! he thought. It reminded him of the clue he got from Nabrun Leids regarding the twin suns. He thought for sure the Ithorian might know of the planet he was seeking. “Sir, do you—”

But the master collector was already on to another thought. “Let me show you what I found in the back,” he said through his human translator. “I’ve found something of interest to you.”


- Force Collector, Chapter 14