(Chapter three.)

Navigating through the temple, even using the Force as a guide, was a challenge. There was so much wreckage on the floor of the temple that, even if she sidestepped on hunk of concrete, she would immediately bump into another. After tripping over rubble more times than she deemed dignifiable, Sara pulled out a flashlight and continued on. Spying a debris littered staircase, she gritted her teeth and begin a tedious climb, picking her way over chunk's of fallen concrete and crashed aircraft's.

Once she had ascended the last step, Sara studied the corridor, trying to recall which room used to be the Archives. It seemed like forever since she had studied the old ways of the Jedi, the temple, their way of life- thinking about those early days almost made her smile. The temple itself exuded that same nostalgia, the feeling that it's better days were behind it. And without a doubt, the inside of the temple looked it. Up here, light from the city penetrated the cracked walls of the ziggurat and cast and eerie glow across the room. Shadows danced across the dusty floor, worn by invisible footsteps.

Sara shook her head, as if clearing cobwebs from her brain. She was being bohemian again, and it wasn't helping her productivity. Crossing the room briskly, she peered into each of the rooms, comparing them against her memory. She poked her head into the third room and recognized it almost immediately. Shattered rose window, vaulted ceiling, endless rows of dilapidated bookshelves- this was without a doubt the Archives.