As a scientist, I believe that time is energy. Where there is no energy, there is no time; where there is no energy, there is no matter, and energy can become matter. So, really, the entire galaxy is just time. But, of course, that's just conjectural nonsense.

Time is like a huge skyway, with trillions of lines. Little, blind choices make our future; chance encounters which look like nothing mean everything. A hole in the bottom of my grandfather's boat changed the galaxy forever- a crazy thought, isn't it?

I was thirteen, and my father and I went fishing. It was one of those classic, holodramatical father-son bonding trips, where mom expected us to come back holding up a ripe Asthentian cod on a hook, with our arms slung around each other's shoulders.

And the boat sank.

You'd think that the royal family of Asthentia could secure a boat without holes in the bottom of it, but apparently, the limitless profit ensnared by our asthent and phostosil fuel was not so boundless after all. Or maybe it was just negligence; and in the end, though it sounds cold, perhaps my father's death was for the best, in a galactic sense.

Only I made it out of that lake alive. They called it a miracle, I thanked the gods; and now, I am sure it was the Force. I'm tempted to say 'just the Force', but to say that is to be ignorant and belittle the greatest gift in my life.

So my father found his grave at the bottom of Trelaanc Lake. My mother found a new husband, a traitorous bastard by the name of Tril Drin. He called himself a hunter, but a suspect that outside of our secluded planet, a "bounty" was typically added onto the beginning of that title. A cold chill had run down my spine the moment I'd met him, and I tried to warn my mother, but to no avail. My father framed me for murder and arson, and I fled from Asthentia; they discovered the charge was a lie too late.

Before I sunk into darkness...

So, as I said, my foster father betrayed me, and I left Asthentia in a Sentinel shuttle craft. Throughout my life, I have found my mind to be a curious thing; as I have passed through different stages- Prince, pauper, Sith, Jedi, Rogue- my brain has blocked off different memories of times past. Now, as a Jedi Master, I can recall a good portion of my life, but my actions following my flight from Asthentia are still highly mysterious to me. I know that somewhere along the line, I discovered my own Jedi heritage, by accident or intention. I built my own lightsaber, gained rudimentary knowledge of the Force, enough to kill what I suspect to be several Jedi.

Memories shape who we are; this is disputed, but I see it to be a definite truth. If my memories were to be wiped tomorrow, I would cease to be who I once was; I would no longer be Gash Jiren. If a murderer's memory was wiped, he could live the rest of his life as a good man, a different man- and could not be held accountable for the actions of his former self.

So I suppose my mind kept knowledge of my prior actions from me in order to provide a second chance. Apparently, my mind is more forgiving than even the Jedi who accepted me- I seem to have perfected the art of destroying the second chances it gives me. At least I got it right this time.

I joined the Eternal Rogue Order about seven years after I left Asthentia. My youthful foolishness was only surpassed by my arrogance; I arrived on Coruscant hooded and mysterious, a doctor of pure evil come from a planet far away. Skye Keller trained me, and I proved to be quite a gifted Sith. I excelled over my peers.

Shortly after I joined the E.R.O., two people who would come to be exceptionally important in my life left it; the Sith Lords Recon Klain and Hexadragon (or Xylon Hexyra, as we came to know him). Recon would shape my destiny first, and then Xylon...

I left the Eternal Rogue Order. Where I am never seemed to be where I wanted to be- so I went to Korriban. It was a stupid thing to do; I stepped onto a shuttle one day, left Coruscant, and never came back. It was one of those things you don't think about doing: you just do it. Maybe it was the Force, or maybe it was just my own restlessness.

Myself and Recon Klain, the Sith Lord and infamous warrior, joined together on the dark world of Korriban. We left on his Carrack Cruiser, travelling to the icy Sith world of Ziost; now annihilated by centuries of Sith civil war, deceit and murder, we went there hoping to find answers.

Instead, we found Qual Zaiso. An insane, mask-wearing Sith Warrior who later gave his life in the service of the Sith when we attacked the Naboo city of Theed. He was brutal, perverse, a killer in every sense of the word; the dark side of myself. We instantly found a rivalry in competing for the approval of Recon, a battle neither of us could ever really win- but it didn't stop us from trying. I hated Qual because he represented a brutality and pure evil I had surpressed within myself.

As I said, we attacked Theed. And that's where this story begins. In a different way than I would have thought, though- it was from here a recieved something. A holocron- a holocron a stole from a building in the city which, as a result of our assault, became the Jedi capital. It was part of a plot by Joruck Denti to lure me to Asthentia, my forgotten homeworld, in an effort to learn of the latent gifts of the Asthentian people. The royal family of which I am a part began from Jedi who came with the colonial founders of the world which became known as Asthentia. Denti lured me there, and I became a Jedi as a result of the events there- but that's not what's important.

I now lead the Rogue Jedi Order. When I brought Ossus into the fold of the R.J.O., I found another holocron possessed of the gatekeeper known as "Teros Tre'Na"- a Caamasi Jedi Master who died approximately three thousand years ago. With his assisstance, I rebuilt the holocron I found on Naboo- one which was clearly damaged by Joruck Denti's tampering to turn it into a transmittor.

Working side by side with the hologram form of the Caamasi Jedi Master Teros, I reconstructed the holocron to the best of my ability. It took somewhere around a week- a week which I spent constantly working on it, without sleep, rest, food, or water. By the end of it, I was working purely on the power of the Force- and the battery of Teros' holocron was working the same way. I fed it constant electrical energy through the Force.

"It's done..." I mumbled, collapsing backward. "Finally."

'Yes, my student. We've finished it... and now, we can uncover the secrets it hides. Press the button.'

"Yeah." My response was uncharacteristically abrupt and normal. Through my heavy accent, described as "British" in ancient human manuscripts, severe malnutrition and exhaustion were beginning to show through my attempt at hiding it with the Force.

I pressed the button on the cube, the sides and parts of which were still strewn about the room...