Nawilla Tumbles Badly

Zoomed out maps of the universe show that galaxies often cluster together in bright city-like regions. Each cosmic metropolis is connected to others by interstate highways – vast filaments of dark matter, gas, and dust, along which additional galaxies can be found. This large-scale structure is called the cosmic web.

Way out in the boondocks – far from the galaxies and filaments – are the cosmic voids. They’ve been growing larger for billions of years, emptying out as gravity pulls matter elsewhere.

This animation visualizes the early universe, when the cosmic was full of a hot plasma soup.

Cosmic voids were born when the universe looked extremely different than it does today. Instead of being speckled with stars and galaxies, the cosmos was filled with a sea of plasma (charged particles) that formed a dense, almost uniform fluid.

There were slightly denser kernels of matter, like a single ounce of cinnamon sprinkled into about 13,000 cups of cookie dough! Since the clumps had more mass, their gravity attracted additional material. Those areas grew and grew, drawing more matter together to form stars, galaxies, and galaxy clusters as the universe expanded over billions of years. Meanwhile, the spaces in between became ever emptier.

A simulation of large-scale structure forming under the influence of gravity.

Cosmic voids aren’t completely empty, though. They do have sparse galaxies, though they seem to have delayed development. Since there’s less matter, there’s weaker gravity pulling things together so stars and galaxies form more slowly. And those galaxies are isolated so they’re less likely to interact with others, which fuels growth in denser places like galaxy clusters.

But voids are mostly filled with things we can’t see. They contain a thin mist of dark matter along with a relatively larger amount of WIMPS (weakly interacting massive particles) like ghostly neutrinos than we find elsewhere in the universe. Since there’s not very much stuff in voids to create gravity, a different force reigns supreme: dark energy, the mysterious cosmic pressure that seems to be speeding up the universe’s expansion. Since cosmic voids are influenced primarily by dark energy, they offer clues about its behavior.

Astronomers haven’t thoroughly studied cosmic voids yet, but our upcoming Nancy Grace Roman Space Telescope will be wide-eyed enough to reveal those desert patches of space like we’ve never seen them before. Studying them will show how the universe is put together and how dark energy is pushing galaxies apart.

If you could fly through the cosmic web at hyperspeed, you might see a view like this simulated one!

So far, scientists have found around 1,000 cosmic voids. Roman’s 3D surveys should find tens of thousands more, both large and small, scattered throughout earlier cosmic eras than previous large sky surveys could see. That means we’ll be able to watch how the most vacant places get even emptier over billions of years. And astronomers can trace any changes in dark energy’s might by seeing how it stretches voids, where dark energy dominates, across cosmic time. 

Follow along with Roman’s journey to launch at nasa.gov/roman.

He had served him a Master Silvanus and when he was little steadier, a hot meal.

He had found a message on his comm this morning that simply said thank you.

He had been working at the bar long enough to know when alcohol was needed and when it was not.

The bell jingled and he reached under the bar for a deep black, glass bottle without looking to see who had come in.  The newcomer walked right up to him, eyeing the bottle curiously.

“Is that it?”

“Indeed it is, Battlemaster Drallig.”  Slo Min held up the bottle like a sommelier, letting Cin read the label.

“Jen-et Sen-sia?”  Cin sounded it out slowly.  “Vodka?”

“Genet Sen’cya,” Slo Min corrected.  “That’s the brand name for it.  The Mandalorians call it a dral tihaar, but most mixologists and those in the industry classify and market it as Mandalorian vodka in the Republic.”

Cin peered at the bottle.  The label was entirely in Mandalorian but a tag had been attached with information in Basic as required by law on Coruscant.  The label did call it a vodka.  “And this is the good stuff?”

“Top shelf,” Slo Min confirmed as he put the bottle down on the bar.  “Better than that rotgut you were using.”

Cin held up his hands.  “I used what we had on hand.”

Slo Min crossed his arms and stared him down.

Cin Drallig, Battlemaster of the Jedi Order, managed to look contrite. 

“You should have come to me,” Slo Min told him.

“I know.  But we weren’t even sure if it would work.”

Slo Min did not look appeased.  “You should have come to me from the start, not used subpar alcohol and hoped for the best.  You want the best, you need the best.”

Cin peered at the bottle dubiously.  “Why is this tihaar the best?”

“Dral tihaar,” Slo Min corrected.  “Bu it’s the specific brand that is key.  There is in fact dral tihaar that is terrible.  Genet Sen’cya is top shelf and highly prized by Mandalorian warriors because it is very carefully distilled to remove the impurities that exacerbate hangovers.  Genet Sen’cya is the vodka for the warrior that needs to fight tomorrow.”

Cin nodded.  “Well, that’s just what the healer ordered.  How many did you get?  Two?  Three?”

Slo Min tsked at him.  “I bought a whole case.  I wasn’t going all the way to Little Keldabe for anything less.”

Cin’s eyes bugged out of his head.  “You went into Little Keldabe?  By yourself?”

Slo Min looked pointedly at the Koorivar who was rolling utensils in napkins at the far end of the bar.  “You didn’t think I’d make Leeza go with me, do you?”

Leeza looked slightly alarmed.

“No, I thought if you ever had to go you would take some young knights for protection.”

Slo Min rolled his eyes.  “One does not go into Little Keldabe escorted by a detail of Jedi Knights unless one is trying to start trouble.”  He shrugged.  “It was fine.  I was fine.  The dral tihaar was fine.”

“Slo Min.”  Cin looked uncomfortable.  “You’re associated with the Jedi.  That’s dangerous in Little Keldabe.”

“I’m the tavern keeper.  The barkeep.  They deal with me in that capacity.”

“Slo Min, you’ve been on the holonews programs as the Jedi tavern keeper.”

“Yes, I know,” Slo Min nodded.  “As I’ve done before.  And the purveyors in the shop recognized me because people in the industry watch such things and I’ve been recognized there before.”  He gave Cin a patient look.  “I was praised for coming to buy real liquor and not the watered-down ale those soulless swordsman drink.”  He sniffed.  “I didn’t mention that I used to be one of the monks brewing beer for swordsman and non-swordsman alike.” 

Cin only looked slightly relieved.  “That’s probably for the best.”  He sighed.  “How much do I owe you?”

Slo Min picked up a tab pad, typed into it, and handed it over to Cin to swipe his credit chip. 

The Battlemaster peered at the screen.  “Hmm, not terrible for a case I guess.”

“I bought the case for the bar.  That’s for the two bottles you requested.”

Cin made a choking sound.

“The ten percent markup is required by law,” Slo Min explained.  “I did not charge you for the trip to Little Keldabe.”

Cin nodded grimly.  “Did you include a retail markup?”

“No.  I bought it as retail in Little Keldabe.  Which is still cheaper than getting it from a wholesaler who bought it as retail in Little Keldabe.”  He put the second bottle next to the first and opened a bag with padded slots to cradle both of them.  “Republic wholesalers have trouble importing it.  Mandalorians have better connections.”

“Of course they do.”  Cin frowned at thebottles and their indecipherable script.  “Are you sure this is going to work?”

“No,” Slo Min admitted.  “But if your rotgut did, this will work better.  It’s been a long time, but it has before.”

Cin looked between the bottles and the barkeep, uncertain. 

“If it doesn’t, I’ll refund the unopened bottle,” Slo Min reassured him.  “You’ll need the rest of the open one to drown your sorrows.”

“I hope this will be enough.”

Slo Min chuckled, pointing at the Basic label.  “It’s eighty proof.  A little goes a long way.”

“I should,” Cin sighed.  “Is there anything else I need?”

“Tonic water,” Slo Min told him.  “Sweet lemon id you have it.”

“Is that how Mandalorians drink it?”

“No, it’s traditionally chilled, often in an airlock, and drunk neat.”

Cin scanned his chip and handed back the tab pad before taking the bag.  “I can get that at Stores.  Thank you, Slo Min.”  He put on a hopeful face.  “Cheers!”

“Bottoms up!” Slo Min replied cheerfully as Cin headed out.  He shook his head after him, then glanced down at the tab pad.  “Good tip.”

Leeza looked at him curiously.  “What does he need that much top shelf vodka for?”

Slo Min looked her in the eye.  “Cin’s cooking up something special.  Don’t worry about it.”  He looked up to see Monti giving him a narrow-eyed stare.  Bes looked mystified.  “Don’t you worry about it either,” he called, making a shooing motion at Monti.

Monti pointedly looked at the new, black bottle of Genet Sen’cya on the shelf high above the bar, then slowly turned back to Bes. 

“We’ll have to come back later for the good stuff when I’m not teaching.”

Bes brightened.  “You want to go out again?”

Cautiously, making his movements clear, Monti laid his hand on Bes’s own.  He knew the Kiffar was only moderately psychometric, but it was considered rude to touch a Kiffar’s skin casually and without warning.

“Yes, Bes.  I want to go out again with you.  I want to stay in with you too.”

“Me too.”

“We’ll keep each other warm.”

Bes chuckled.  “Good.”  He gave Monti a shy look.  “I could come to your place if you don’t want to visit us Southies.”

“Hell, no.  The Master’s Tower is a damn ice box this week.”

Bes glanced back at the black bottle that had so fascinated Monti.  “At least the vodka won’t freeze.”

Monti cracked up.

He had served him a Master Silvanus and when he was little steadier, a hot meal.

He had found a message on his comm this morning that simply said thank you.

He had been working at the bar long enough to know when alcohol was needed and when it was not.

The bell jingled and he reached under the bar for a deep black, glass bottle without looking to see who had come in.  The newcomer walked right up to him, eyeing the bottle curiously.

“Is that it?”

“Indeed it is, Battlemaster Drallig.”  Slo Min held up the bottle like a sommelier, letting Cin read the label.

“Jen-et Sen-sia?”  Cin sounded it out slowly.  “Vodka?”

“Genet Sen’cya,” Slo Min corrected.  “That’s the brand name for it.  The Mandalorians call it a dral tihaar, but most mixologists and those in the industry classify and market it as Mandalorian vodka in the Republic.”

Cin peered at the bottle.  The label was entirely in Mandalorian but a tag had been attached with information in Basic as required by law on Coruscant.  The label did call it a vodka.  “And this is the good stuff?”

“Top shelf,” Slo Min confirmed as he put the bottle down on the bar.  “Better than that rotgut you were using.”

Cin held up his hands.  “I used what we had on hand.”

Slo Min crossed his arms and stared him down.

Cin Drallig, Battlemaster of the Jedi Order, managed to look contrite. 

“You should have come to me,” Slo Min told him.

“I know.  But we weren’t even sure if it would work.”

Slo Min did not look appeased.  “You should have come to me from the start, not used subpar alcohol and hoped for the best.  You want the best, you need the best.”

Cin peered at the bottle dubiously.  “Why is this tihaar the best?”

“Dral tihaar,” Slo Min corrected.  “Bu it’s the specific brand that is key.  There is in fact dral tihaar that is terrible.  Genet Sen’cya is top shelf and highly prized by Mandalorian warriors because it is very carefully distilled to remove the impurities that exacerbate hangovers.  Genet Sen’cya is the vodka for the warrior that needs to fight tomorrow.”

Cin nodded.  “Well, that’s just what the healer ordered.  How many did you get?  Two?  Three?”

Slo Min tsked at him.  “I bought a whole case.  I wasn’t going all the way to Little Keldabe for anything less.”

Cin’s eyes bugged out of his head.  “You went into Little Keldabe?  By yourself?”

Slo Min looked pointedly at the Koorivar who was rolling utensils in napkins at the far end of the bar.  “You didn’t think I’d make Leeza go with me, do you?”

Leeza looked slightly alarmed.

“No, I thought if you ever had to go you would take some young knights for protection.”

Slo Min rolled his eyes.  “One does not go into Little Keldabe escorted by a detail of Jedi Knights unless one is trying to start trouble.”  He shrugged.  “It was fine.  I was fine.  The dral tihaar was fine.”

“Slo Min.”  Cin looked uncomfortable.  “You’re associated with the Jedi.  That’s dangerous in Little Keldabe.”

“I’m the tavern keeper.  The barkeep.  They deal with me in that capacity.”

“Slo Min, you’ve been on the holonews programs as the Jedi tavern keeper.”

“Yes, I know,” Slo Min nodded.  “As I’ve done before.  And the purveyors in the shop recognized me because people in the industry watch such things and I’ve been recognized there before.”  He gave Cin a patient look.  “I was praised for coming to buy real liquor and not the watered-down ale those soulless swordsman drink.”  He sniffed.  “I didn’t mention that I used to be one of the monks brewing beer for swordsman and non-swordsman alike.” 

Cin only looked slightly relieved.  “That’s probably for the best.”  He sighed.  “How much do I owe you?”

Slo Min picked up a tab pad, typed into it, and handed it over to Cin to swipe his credit chip. 

The Battlemaster peered at the screen.  “Hmm, not terrible for a case I guess.”

“I bought the case for the bar.  That’s for the two bottles you requested.”

Cin made a choking sound.

“The ten percent markup is required by law,” Slo Min explained.  “I did not charge you for the trip to Little Keldabe.”

Cin nodded grimly.  “Did you include a retail markup?”

“No.  I bought it as retail in Little Keldabe.  Which is still cheaper than getting it from a wholesaler who bought it as retail in Little Keldabe.”  He put the second bottle next to the first and opened a bag with padded slots to cradle both of them.  “Republic wholesalers have trouble importing it.  Mandalorians have better connections.”

“Of course they do.”  Cin frowned at thebottles and their indecipherable script.  “Are you sure this is going to work?”

“No,” Slo Min admitted.  “But if your rotgut did, this will work better.  It’s been a long time, but it has before.”

Cin looked between the bottles and the barkeep, uncertain. 

“If it doesn’t, I’ll refund the unopened bottle,” Slo Min reassured him.  “You’ll need the rest of the open one to drown your sorrows.”

“I hope this will be enough.”

Slo Min chuckled, pointing at the Basic label.  “It’s eighty proof.  A little goes a long way.”

“I should,” Cin sighed.  “Is there anything else I need?”

“Tonic water,” Slo Min told him.  “Sweet lemon id you have it.”

“Is that how Mandalorians drink it?”

“No, it’s traditionally chilled, often in an airlock, and drunk neat.”

Cin scanned his chip and handed back the tab pad before taking the bag.  “I can get that at Stores.  Thank you, Slo Min.”  He put on a hopeful face.  “Cheers!”

“Bottoms up!” Slo Min replied cheerfully as Cin headed out.  He shook his head after him, then glanced down at the tab pad.  “Good tip.”

Leeza looked at him curiously.  “What does he need that much top shelf vodka for?”

Slo Min looked her in the eye.  “Cin’s cooking up something special.  Don’t worry about it.”  He looked up to see Monti giving him a narrow-eyed stare.  Bes looked mystified.  “Don’t you worry about it either,” he called, making a shooing motion at Monti.

Monti pointedly looked at the new, black bottle of Genet Sen’cya on the shelf high above the bar, then slowly turned back to Bes. 

“We’ll have to come back later for the good stuff when I’m not teaching.”

Bes brightened.  “You want to go out again?”

Cautiously, making his movements clear, Monti laid his hand on Bes’s own.  He knew the Kiffar was only moderately psychometric, but it was considered rude to touch a Kiffar’s skin casually and without warning.

“Yes, Bes.  I want to go out again with you.  I want to stay in with you too.”

“Me too.”

“We’ll keep each other warm.”

Bes chuckled.  “Good.”  He gave Monti a shy look.  “I could come to your place if you don’t want to visit us Southies.”

“Hell, no.  The Master’s Tower is a damn ice box this week.”

Bes glanced back at the black bottle that had so fascinated Monti.  “At least the vodka won’t freeze.”

Monti cracked up.