Session export: The Academy - Chapter 2

Thane didn’t like the academy. There were too many…people. People were—as everyone knew—the worst. They existed, first of all, and beyond that they always managed to intrude on the Justicar’s aura of quietude.

Yet there he was: in the academy.

A long sigh sprung to life as a shot of air passed through Thane’s flaring nostrils. His black-gold eyes shifted as he walked through the halls, fixating on any movement or flashes of light. Ever observant, the man couldn’t help himself. Periodically, he cast his gaze downward to a datapad in his hand. A few button presses would dismiss whatever he was reviewing and Thane would be on the go once more.

His research was at an impasse. The only problem was, Thane didn’t know what he didn’t know. And that meant he needed to address the archives themselves and review everything until he found the “one thing” he needed.

Wonderful.

On the landing pad of the Shadow Academy Campus on Arx, Nora Olen exited the transport shuttle. She couldn’t help but feel wonder as she took in her surroundings. The college was encircled by a marsh and situated in the middle of a tropical rainforest. The sounds of strange animals could be heard in the distance, and the air was muggy and heavy with humidity.

Nora entered the climate-controlled facility and felt relieved despite the stifling heat. The cooling air was a nice relief from the humid outside. She had to admit that the building’s elaborate architecture caught her attention as she made her way to the archives. The flooring were smooth, black marble, and the walls were a dark, polished stone. The flickering torches that lined the hallways produced a sinister glare.

She was welcomed by a group of droids as she got closer to the archives. Once they had verified her identification, they scanned it and gave her access to the archives. To start her investigation, Nora went to one of the terminals. She was researching the relevance of Sith artifacts in Sith culture and their historical development. There was a wealth of knowledge in the archives, and Nora was determined to find anything new.

Across the campus, Titius was close to a meltdown. Having just obtained his Graduate status, he was looking forward to access to the biological containment labs. Already, he had submitted several hypotheses for study, all approved overnight with full research privileges. He cleared level one and had promptly walked straight into the unyielding containment airlock for level 2. Indicators flashed angrily as a monotone voice repeated “Access Denied-You are not authorized at this level-Access Denied”. Stepping back, he had swiped his ID chip which served only to add another alarm tone to the cacophony.

The smell of hot caf lingered in the air of the private study room that Bril had reserved in the early morning, its penetrating aroma of slow-roasted beans convincing him to take another sip. And it was certainly needed if the young Zabrak had any hopes of tackling the content of the next book on his table. After sliding the cup away to reduce the chance of him staining the pages of these priceless books, he hefted the largest one in his pile and used his hand to brush away the thick coat of dust that had settled upon it. The title of the book was etched into its maroon cover in a bold and somewhat clinical black font:

Heterodox Perspectives on the Force and its Uses: A Disquisition

The tome was as thick as any two of the other books combined, and it looked like it hadn’t been touched in ages. He’d have to be careful. Alhough he was sure that this wasn’t the original given how easy it’d been for him to access it, he still didn’t want to damage it. Who knew how many physical copies existed? The first page revealed the author to be a Sith Lord named Darth Runis. It was his first time hearing that name, so he made a note to research their history later. Normally, Bril would have taken the time to meticulously examine each section, but today, only one of them interested him. He flipped to the section on Dathomirian natives and started reading.

Perhaps no culture is more attuned to the use of the Living Force than the myriad tribes of Dathomir. The foundation for what would become known as Dathomiri Shamanism was laid by a rogue Jedi of the Old Republic named Allya.

-

To say that Darth Runis had written a gripping treatise would be an understatement. It detailed the earliest history of both the Witches of Dathomir and the Nightsisters, how the way they conceived the Force differed from the Jedi and Sith, and the ways in which their beliefs and practices differed from one another. The use of ichor seemed to be integral to many rituals of the Nightsisters, but to his surprise, it wasn’t the only way to use the Force in the way they did. He took another quick sip of his caf while reading aloud, “Adherents of Dathomiri Shamanism have been known to use the conduit of a living creature’s lifeforce - the blood - as a means of powering their magick.”

The truth of that statement rang so clearly that Bril struggled to imagine how he’d never thought of it on its own. Of course, you could use a being’s blood to tap into the Living Force! Many Iridonians even spoke of the blood as the vessel of life that carried the Will of the Ancestors to their descendants. When a memory of his conversation with Karran a month earlier came to mind, he gave thanks to his ancestors. He remembered that the Arconan Zabrak had undergone one of the very rituals mentioned in Runis’ book. Who better to discuss the details he’d found than him? Bril copied the book’s section on Dathomir into his Collegium Datapad, gathered the books he’d rented, and headed out the door so he could return them.

-

A few failed attempts to reach Karran on his comlink made it clear that the man was out of range, which meant that he likely wasn’t in the Academy at all. He would just have to speak with him later, then. At least he had time to begin conducting more thorough research on Dathomiri magick, now. Unlocking the secrets of the esoteric force tradition would elevate his power in the Force, and maybe, prevent him from ever having to experience the weakness he felt on Kenari. As if on cue, memories of those wretched hounds flooded into the shores of his mind, sending an all-too familiar chill up his spine. Thoroughly unsettled, Bril failed to notice that he’d strayed from his original path until it was too late, and he bumped into Nora while she was standing at the research terminal.

When he snapped out of it and realized who it was, he smoothed out his robes while inclining his head in her direction, “My apologies, master. I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

Suddenly, a commotion erupted at the archive reception desk.

“NO I already talked to security services and they say YOU are the reason I have a hold on my chip. I need that access today!”

Titius was fully unaware of the signs preaching quiet and respect for other patrons, singularly intent on getting his due.

“I’m very sorry, Yeoman, I can’t see the approval for that access”

Titius spat back, “It PROFESSIONAL Osseus now, and my experiment docket was approved for Level 3!”

Tajga came inside the archives. The small young Shistavanen didn’t even bother to look at the screaming person at the reception desk, she only noticed Nora - who was mentioned by her guardian and quite accurately described. She waved to her, and continued walking.

She passed quickly and directed herself straight to the alley which was full of data about acting and slicing. She avoided alley about creatures on purpose- her guardian Archian sent her here to learn more about Fauna, but she wanted to expand knowledge about her two other interests.

Klatooine Paddy Frog was slowly following her. Sadly the Falumpaset - her mount - had to stay at the front entrance of Shadow Academy’s Archives.

One would think that Mandalorian armor would be uncomfortable to lounge in, but once you wore it day in and day out, it really wasn’t that bad. Lillian was sprawled out in a chair in the archive, her legs kicked up on a nearby table. Despite wearing her helmet, it was clear she was engrossed in whatever she was reading.

The Human had always been infatuated with knowledge. From star charts to math textbooks to dissertations on the differences of frogs on the planet of Naboo, Lillian would read just about anything. So what was the Mandalorian reading now? A book on Selenian culture. It was obvious that the script had been somewhat dumbed down for non-selenians in the way that most professor’s dumbed down information for non-professors—but it was still more than she had known before.

If she was going to stay in Arcona, and it seemed like she was, she wanted to get to know the locals.

Since finding out about Alexandyr and finding Wulfram, libraries and archives had become her calm place. Escapism didn’t count when you were learning, right? But escapism it was; running from the brother she didn’t know she had and running away from the man she had spent decades chasing because the end of the journey wasn’t what she thought it would have been.

A blip registered in her ear, a message showing up on her display.

“Dove, will you just-“

The Human’s lip twitched in frustration as she dismissed the message, her eyes burning behind her helmet. She had been avoiding Wulfram and the crew of his ship for a good couple of days now despite their best attempts to get in touch with her. Part of her wanted to beat the everliving kriff out of her childhood friend, while the other half desperately begged her to make up with him. Their reunion had definitely been… confusing.The woman leaned her head back and placed the book on the faceplate of her helmet, groaning, and let both of her arms fall slack at the sides of the chair.

-

Eventually, she would have to talk to Wulfram. But today would not be that day.

With a swift movement, the Human tossed the book on her helmet onto the stack of other books on the table and sat upright in her chair. Her attention had been drawn to the commotion at the front of the archives. Placing a gauntlet-covered hand under her chin, she watched the scene continue. Would she intervene? Probably not.

The archivist in front of Titius began to laugh. “Child, did you really think to convince me that youre mature enough to be permitted access to the labs with this tirade?” She was a grizzled old grayhair, who had mentored and served Sith Lords as high as the Dark Council. A little upstart human would not faze her in the slightest.

Mikhail jerked upright in his seat at a console, one hand going to his hip where it promptly found nothing. He turned his head towards the shouting. Bright crystal eyes narrowed, trying to focus his blurry vision on the scene in the near distance. He had been nodding off, having spent most of the previous day in the library pouring over tomes and data. Most of it he had already seen before, but it was good to cross reference, right?

The Arkanian closed his eyes again, then ran fingers through unnaturally black hair for one of his species. He didn’t know what time it was, but as a few new people seemed to find there way in, he could assume it was sometime after early morning. He turned his attention back to the screen infront of him that he had been studying. A black mirror stared back at him. Showing his messy hair, ringed eyes, and sparkling crystal scars. He hadn’t properly slept for a few days. Occasional naps, mercifully lacking of dreams, kept him going this far. That was alright, wasn’t it?

He plucked his black glasses from his lap, where they had fallen from his face. He adjusts them, then turns back to continue eyeing the source of commotion. He took the time to peer at the few people that had come in since he’d been there, gauging anything of interest. Someone in Mandalorian armor caught his eye, as did a furry Shistavanen that paced deeper into the library. Even if he wanted to talk to them, he’d need a minute to bring his brain function back into order from the pit of drowsiness that it currently dwelled in.

Nora smiled politely, “No need to apologize, apprentice. I’m here to do some research on Sith artifacts. And what brings you here, Bril?”

Bril cleared his throat and straightened his posture, “I’m conducting research on Dathomiri magick. I find it to be a fascinating subject.”

Nora raised an eyebrow, “Dathomiri magick? That’s not a common area of study. What piques your interest in it?”

Bril hesitated for a moment before answering, “I…I encountered some Dathomiri magick during my last mission, and I realized how little I knew about it. I believe understanding it better will make me a stronger Sith.”

Nora nodded thoughtfully, “That’s a wise perspective. Knowledge is power, after all. But be cautious, Bril. Dathomiri magick can be unpredictable and dangerous. You don’t want to underestimate it.”

Bril nodded, “I’ll keep that in mind, master.”

There was a brief pause before Nora spoke again, “Say, Bril. Since we’re both here, would you like to collaborate on our research? Perhaps we could learn something from each other.”

Bril’s eyes lit up at the suggestion, “I would be honored, master.”

Nora gestured to the terminal next to hers, “Then let’s get to work.”

As they worked together, exchanging information and theories, Nora couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride and satisfaction. This was what the Sith Academy was all about, after all - fostering knowledge and strengthening the Sith Order. And perhaps, in working together, Nora and Bril could achieve greater understanding and power than they could alone.

Nora, ever observant as she was, would have no trouble noticing that something about her apprentice had seemed off since his last mission. Although he was happy to be conducting research with her, he also seemed distracted - uneasy, even. His eyes shifted to the man arguing with the archive attendant, whom he recognized as the same unusual fellow who’d shared his table nearly a month prior. Bril was sure the man knew better than to cause a scene in a library yet here he was … shouting.

It’d be a lot harder for the little gasbag to argue without his tongue.

A hand moved to his hip, creeping ever closer to his saber’s hilt. Bril didn’t notice that he had began to exude a presence in the Force that oozed with malevolence … with hunger.

Arx was everything that Antei was not. Eos City, even with its rigid order, was more populous and lively than Antei had ever aspired to be. But mostly, compared to the dry moon of Lyspair, the exterior of the Academy on Uskil was just… moist. From the moment he’d stepped out of the subatmospheric transport onto the landing pad, Eiko regretted not wearing his mask. The weight would be uncomfortable, but at least it would keep the condensation from settling on his face, forcing him to wipe his face with the edge of his cloak.

The structure was more familiar in purpose, but still felt like a warped reflection of his memories. He kept pace with the archivist who’d been tasked with giving him the tour of the Campus.

“You said this is your first visit to the Campus, Inquisitor?” The archivist, a young Rodian with a bristly hair, asked over his shoulder.

“Yes,” Eiko responded, his voice weak without amplification.

“Well, I hope it’s been a productive one so far. On the right are the special collections we’ve gathered for your request, and your residence is…”

“Yes, yes,” Eiko nodded. “I stopped there beforehand.”

“Very well. I hope you’ll contact our office if there’s anything amiss.”

Eiko nodded again, and the Rodian left with the same crisp steps that he’d led with the entire tour.

Inside the small room was a table fitted with a holoprojector and little else. Eiko pulled his own datapad from his belt and connected it, starting to connect fresh data to his personal files and pressing his palm to the screen as verification that he was, in fact, the same Inquisitor who had been absent from these systems for years.

Rogue. Missing. Missing. Deceased. Missing. Rogue. Deceased. Deceased.

Eiko had steeled himself against the reality of returning to the strange familiarity of Brotherhood space, but it still stung. He straightened his back as he moved to the next dossier.

The face of the Iktotchi sneered back from the datapad. A. Dath. House Revan. Deceased, 8004.312.3 Eiko stretched his jaw gently, mindful of the scarring that was still there, more exposed than ever by visiting without his mask. Thirteen years and some months.

Eiko clicked his tongue and struck the entry from the queue. There was no need to review it. Every moment aboard the Merciless was still there in his mind, reviewed second by second, and in better clarity than the report. His mind hung for a second on the file’s attachments, and something drew him to look at the certificate for the posthumous medal.

His signature looked so unpracticed, loosely looping with uneven pressure. A boy’s signature.

“Never mind the past,” Eiko chastised himself as he switched from his datapad to the holoprojector. “Please show me the last recorded logs from the Council frigate Deep Ice.”

“Sir, you’re not allowed to access this section of the Academy without proper authorization.” barked a monotone Collegium droid.

A webbed hand pressed against the droid’s shoulder as if to move it aside.

“Sir, I insist that you step away from the door.”

“Itsh, ok, I can be here.” The Draethos spoke but the teeth on the outside of his mouth made pronunciation of certain basic words difficult. However, he always managed to articulate what it was he needed. Telepathy, while his preferred form of communication, was useless against droids.

“Sir, you can not!”

Razzak grumbled and turned away before spinning and leaping for the door. Raising a metallic arm, the droid blocked his forward momentum, sending the explorer crashing to the floor.

“Sir, I may be a researcher droid but please do not make me get physical. I have been trained in three forms of…”

Razzak scoffed as he stood to his feet and dusted himself off. His hand rested on the grip of his Reynolds but he remembered where he was. Blasting this droid probably wasn’t the smartest option.

Instead, he conceded and backed away. Still, he was curious as to what that Neti had been carrying through the halls. The glimpse of reflective material, the crystalline body, his experience told him it was a holocron. What he didn’t know was what was inside. He usually didn’t care, he was paid to retrieve these items for collectors, not to open them. But there was something unique about that particular device.

It felt like it took Thane forever to make his way down the corridors and into the archives themselves. He was mildly frustrated that he had to be there. Perturbed even. But that was a minor inconvenience in the grand scheme of, well, everything.

His surprisingly light footfalls brought him to the main receptionist where he merely placed an access token down. “I require unrestricted access routed to a secure terminal,” Thane’s lilting tone somehow maintained an even keel. Despite the inconvenience of coming to the archives themselves, there was a perk to being the Justicar. He didn’t have to walk even further to get to the more secure sections.

Rhylance walked the halls of the Academy building, he waited as his room was being prepared by his team. Coming across the Archives chamber, the Chiss decided to pull any needed knowledge. As a top ranked Research Director for the Aurora Collegium his access levels were quite high.

Entering the room, he saw none other than the Justicar of the Brotherhood. Rhylance had heard tales of Thane’s brilliant mind. A true equal to the Chiss’s superior intellect.

“Ah, Thane. At last we meet. Interesting to find you in these archives. To what ends are you spending your mental acuity today?”

After the receptionist was finished verifying the Justicar’s credentials, the man quickly beckoned the access token back. It slid comfortably between his fingers before he placed it in his belt. That was as far as the Firrerreo got before he was interrupted by Rhylance.

He raised an eyebrow and shifted his eyes to glance at the Chiss, not so much as turning his head. A quick trip to his mental archive brought up the necessary information regarding the other man. “Research,” Thane remarked, as if that was answer enough. “Yourself?”

The Chiss gave a slight smirk at the Firrerreo’s short response. Thane seemed a man of few words, a trait Rhylance held in high esteem. He approached a control console to request the information he was searching for as well, before tilting his head towards the Justicar.

“The same. I have a room being prepared for some prolonged study on interspecial and mutli-generational genetics as it relates to the Force.”

His glasses gleamed under the artificial lights.

Thane’s eyebrow didn’t drop. Instead, questions bubbled up. What was the purpose of Rhylance’s study? Could Thane make use of it? Had Rhylance actually developed the need for a prescription yet and thus legitimized his glasses?

Questions without answers.

Instead of asking any of them, the man acquiesced with a soft grunt.

“My research will be made…available. Once its validity has been proven, of course.”

Rhylance studied Thane’s face, searching for any sign of what he was thinking. The Justicar was a mystery to him, and as with any mystery, that him interesting to the Doctor.

“That is, if you are inclined to want to know.

“Am I not breathing?” the Justicar replied with a look of incredulity. The day I find myself lacking a thirst for knowledge would be my last.

Quite often, Thane thought significantly more than he said. Other times, he said far more than others would like. Usually in a rather barb-filled way.

Rhylance let out a soft chuckle as he adjusted his lenses.

“My apologies, Thane. Many are rather…not understanding of my studies as they are not fans of my policies, procedures, or experiments. I try to not presume the interest others have in my findings.”

Aeternus was behind the Justicar as he got his access pass back. It used to be that merely showing the pendant granted to the Sith Lords was enough to gain access, but with tightened security, even he now had to sign in. “Thane, you should know, even not breathing does not mean the end of your days.”

Research Director Creon arrived from the landing dock after parking his vessel. Instead of in his armor, Creon was dressed in simple hooded black robes and carried his Sith Sword. At his side followed a drone and two droids. The envoy drone processed Creon’s credentials and issued a request for authorization.

“To find holocrons of Sith Artificers on the development of force-based technologies,” he stated for his purpose in the request.

The Justicar paused and looked further over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of Aeternus behind him. He allowed himself a small scoff at the other man’s remark. “One can hope.”

He waited patiently—as far as one could tell from his outward appearance—for the archivist to direct him to his requisitioned terminal. Thane knew, of course, that ‘unrestricted’ was about as all-encompassing a word here as ‘lifetime warranty’ for a ship salesman. Where the latter was easily translated to ‘ten years’, the former was a bit harder to quantify. Just what was being left out was impossible to know. And if that material happened to include the secrets he needed to unravel for his research into, well, conquering the cycle of death itself, then he would be rather…miffed.

Yes, miffed was as good as any for the emotionally stunted man. His range of emotion was rather stunted, after all. It ran from extreme low to extreme high with a hell of a lot of even keel between the two. That said, it wasn’t that the Justicar never snapped emotional. It was just…a sudden dip or jump. Usually without warning. Not the healthiest approach to controlling oneself but it was anything but a conscious act.

Deep set trauma responses were such fun.

Nathan had been sitting in the archives, catching up on a piece of research. The tour group were placed and with them a little more comfortable it had felt a good moment to take a few hours to himself and catch up on the eternal stream work. Well, not eternal. But sometimes it very much felt that way to the Praetor.

Seeing a child slip past him, a frog following after her, Nathan was in a moment on his feet and putting books into his satchel. He caught up quickly as she came to a stop in the aisle. Upon closer look, she wasn’t quite as young as initially thought but still of concern to be unsupervised.

Nathan stopped a few feet away, and crouched so he wasn’t looming over Tajga and spoke softly, afraid of scaring her but also incredibly concerned, “Hey there, where.. where are your carers?”

Karran sat in a private study room in a secluded wing of the academy. Just like his last visit, he’d lost track of time while immersed in his translation efforts.

Finally, he realized that he should check the time to find that many hours had passed since he turned off his comlink to limit distractions. Upon restoring power to the device, he found several missed calls from Bril Teg Arga.

He uttered a quiet curse in Zabraki, gathered his materials and vacated the room while attempting to return the call.

“Bril, apologies, I was lost in my studies. Where would you like to meet?” the Zabraki language flowed easily and freely from his tongue. The casual, familiar forms of words tended to be shorter than the more formal counterparts.

Tajga turned around at him and waved at him, followed with one of her clawed fingers of the right hand, lonely coming away from her fully open palm of the left hand - trying to explain that she was there by herself.

After that she pointed at the Frog following her, and which was hanging from the shelf of the opposite row of the archives section, after Nathan scared it with sudden appearance. She closed with one paw her second one, and with this friendly gesture nodded at the now laying at the floor, and breathing heavily in the amphibian’s direction.

Female Shistavanen looked at one of the papers which was named “Slicing - beginning of the end of all starships”, and with a question pointed at it with her snout, and a huge curiosity in her eyes.

She moved her left paw closer to her snout, and with swift movement lowered it in the straight line down away from it, and pointed with right paw at herself - like asking for permission from the half human.

It took a moment for Nathan to fully understand her meaning, that she was alone. She wanted permission to use the book. Who had left a teen who couldn’t speak alone in a place like this? The academy itself was easy to get lost in, and with so many different experiments, labs, people going on it was just… Well. It was a problem.

“You can borrow the book, yes. But where is your carer? You shouldn’t be alone here, not without at least a tutor or some form of escort. Do you have a way to contact someone?”

Tajga showed her hidden in the armor collection of two comlinks and three different datapads, and put thumbs up.

She also mimicked moves like writing on the paper, and tapping at the personal computer keyboard, followed by pointing at the Klatooine Paddy Frog staring at the Half Pantoran.

Creature had an open mouth and a bit of saliva coming out of it - it looked hungry, and was making small steps towards Nathan.

Tajga crossed her paws with straightened claws, like making protection move at the front of her, and showed again coming closer to the creature, as well as moving like throwing a ball.

She understood that her guardian was busy in the Arconan’s offices, but she couldn’t miss the chance to gossip that probably he is also playing with one of his hidden creatures around that place.

She blinked with a big smile at Nathan.

The… frog was supposed to be a companion? Or her escort. That’s what he understand from that at least.

Nathan shuffled a little further away from the frog. He was fine with most animals, but the fact it was approaching was unnerving. The situation was unsettling really, but the archives were vast and he couldn’t really trust that someone else would show up. He didn’t recognise her to know off-hand anyone to contact. Nor could she share her name to work it out on his own data pad.

“Well.. that’s very nice the frog is taking care of you. However like I said, you really shouldn’t be here without a person to keep an eye on you. For your own safety. Is there anyone who could come now? I’m happy to wait with you here but if you’re just meant to be here alone we should.. try and get a tutor or something so you aren’t alone.”

The half-pantoran only had a few hours, if she was intending to stay for longer than that it would be remiss to not get something sorted properly.

His legs were starting to ache slightly from crouching like this.

Tajga shook her head, and digged out one of the datapads out. Quickly tapped at its surface, and showed a message to still crouching half human. Archian from Arcona is my guardian.

The Frog jumped into Nathan’s direction, but before it could reach him Tajga caught it, and pushed a little bit of meat - which she took out from a small bag - to its mouth.

Tajga reached for a book, and with a beaming, sharp teeth smile she took Nathan’s hand and started walking with him to the nearest bench.

Nathan was not ok with his hand being taken.

Nor with the fact that someone he knew and actually lived with on the Voidbreaker had sent their charge completely alone to a place they knew could be dangerous. At least it’d be easy communications.

That was more worrisome than a teen taking his hand without asking, so he just followed her along and got her settled into a seat with the book.

Once she was sat and he himself was sat as far from the frog, that had apparently trying to eat him, as possible, the Praetor brought out his comms device and texted Archian.

Your charge, Tajga I believe is her name. She’s in the Shadow Academy unsupervised other than a frog. Are you available to come supervise her? I don’t have time to ensure she’s safe for the rest of the day and the Academy is not safe for minors. If you can’t, I can set her up with a tutor for today but she needs to be able to taken home tonight or have supervision.

Titius gave up. No amount of beratement was going to change the attendants mind. Moving over to the bank of public terminals, he hammered his ID chip into the awaiting cradle and waited for the system to login.

The display flashed for several seconds before acknowledging his credentials.

Welcome OSSEUS, T.

Titius navigated quickly to his personel file and saw a flag in his inbox.

***WARNING: Knight Level Access Pending Congratulations on acheiving JM4 designation. Action is required to enable your new security protocols and elevate your restricition access. Please consult a Clan Staff to validate.

Tajga heard a low beep sound, and received a message at her datapad. Please tell me you are not in trouble again? And please do not make Nathan sit down with you for too long. Also I beg you - do not try to manipulate anyone with your sweet eyes and paws. I’m sending extra arms to pick you up soon

Tajga passed the datapad to Nathan, and pointed at the message, also she was looking into his eyes with small fire sparks inside of them.

In the meantime there was a signal of received message at the half human comms device with message.

*Apologies. I told her to not make any troubles, and keep in the larger groups. Please if you could set her up with a tutor until my friend will come to pick her up soon. Again apologies.

P.S. Could you advise me how to set up a sandbox for a little kid?* Young Shista looked at him with curiosity and pointed at his comms device.

In the meantime Frog was laying flat, and consuming an opened bag of the food which Tajga left next to her chair.

Nathan looked up at the beep, a little perplexed that Archian would message Tajga before responding but trying to not think too much on it.

She hasn’t made trouble, but there aren’t many large groups apart from tour groups which she wasn’t registered on. I will set her set up in the archives, there’s a reception to enter so she’ll be easy to find.

As for a sandbox, I’d suggest using wood sealed in such a way to be watertight, or metal with something soft on the edges for the container.

It was an odd request considering the context but this was just a very bemusing situation from beginning to end anyway so the Praetor just focussed on finding a tutor with free time currently. There was a couple, but only one at this academy. Within a few minutes it was set up that one would be there within the half hour. It was short notice, but it was also more babysitting rather than a true tutoring situation so there was less prep needed.

Sensing the disturbance in Bril’s demeanor, Nora discreetly glanced at her apprentice, her keen eyes narrowing in concern. She had noticed the change in his energy, the unsettling shift in his aura. It was as if a dark cloud had descended upon him, shrouding his usual composure and replacing it with an unsettling hunger for power.

As Bril’s hand instinctively moved toward his lightsaber, Nora gently reached out through the Force, a subtle attempt to calm the turbulent currents within her apprentice’s mind. She knew the dangers of succumbing to the seductive call of the dark side and the destructive path it could lead to. Bril had always shown potential, but this newfound obsession with power and his disturbing aura were cause for alarm.

With a steady gaze, Nora silently assessed the situation. The man arguing with the archive attendant was clearly agitated, his voice resonating with frustration. The library’s serene atmosphere was disrupted by his outburst, drawing the attention of nearby researchers. The confrontation had the potential to escalate into chaos if left unchecked.

Nora turned her attention back to Bril, her voice projecting a calm authority. “Bril, hold. We must not let our emotions guide us. Remember our teachings and the importance of restraint. We are Sith, and we must rise above these distractions.”

Bril’s eyes flickered with a mixture of determination and internal conflict. The dark presence emanating from him wavered slightly as Nora’s words reached his consciousness. He took a deep breath, his hand slowly retracting from his lightsaber. A glimmer of clarity surfaced in his eyes, as if a veil had been lifted, revealing the perilous path he was treading.

“I… I apologize, Master,” Bril managed to say, his voice laced with a hint of remorse. “I… I lost myself for a moment. The allure of power can be overwhelming.”

Nora nodded understandingly, her voice gentle yet firm. “Indeed, it can, Bril. The darkness tempts us all. But it is in moments like these that we must rely on our training and the strength of our convictions. Let us not lose sight of our purpose—to become more than mere vessels of power, but guardians of knowledge and seekers of balance.”

Bril took another deep breath, the oppressive aura around him dissipating gradually. He straightened his posture, his gaze refocused. “You are right, Master. I must regain control over my ambitions and stay true to our teachings.”

Nora smiled softly, her faith in her apprentice rekindled. “That is the spirit, Bril. We all stumble at times, but what truly matters is our ability to rise from the darkness and learn from our mistakes. We will find a way to navigate the treacherous currents of the Force together.”

It was moment like these that reminded Bril of why he had come to respect his master as much as he did. She had once again displayed a level of tact that he often tried to emulate in dealing with his own students one day. He hadn’t even noticed that his thoughts were quickly descending to a dangerous pit that, had she not intervened with the exact words that he needed to hear in that moment, he would have little hope of freeing himself from. He listened intently to her words, logging it away in his mind should he have to rely on them in the future.

When she finished, he just stared at her for a few moments, not only to reflect on the wisdom she presented, but to contemplate the nature of the Zeltron Sith. He didn’t know much of her history; the few records of her in the archives he had access to were limited to brief synopses of who she was and what she’d accomplished during her time in the Brotherhood. None provided a satisfactory answer as to how she became who she was, or at least how she presented herself to him: a Sith, yes, but one who was seemingly markedly different in both temperament and approach to the Force.

“Balance,” he said, a pensive echo of her own words, “That’s not something you’d expect a Sith to emphasize. The annals paint a different picture of this order … one of complete surrender to the pull of the Dark; one of sorrow, and of excess.”

Perhaps that is the true path I should follow, and it’s her who is blind.

He shook his head in a show of his refusal to entertain the intrusive thought; then, he took a breath. “I have to tell you something, master,” he began, pausing only to search for the words. Ancestors, give him strength. Even since he was a child, he preferred to do things on his own, desiring to ask for him only when he was certain he could do something on his own. Learning to rely on others wasn’t easy at first, but he had gotten better at it as he gained more experience in the field.

-

“During my mission to retrieve the Ark with Quaestor Varick. The things I had to do to survive, to save us both, they … changed me. I’ve never felt the pull of the Dark Side this strongly.” He felt his emotions flaring up again. A dangerous concoction of anger, shame, and fear chipped at the edges of his mental defenses, forcing him to pause again to collect himself.

Once he felt a sense of calm return, he started again, “Those Tuk'ata, that’s what TuQ'uan called them. I’ve been seeing them in my dreams. And what worries me even more is that it feels like a part of them remains within me, like they’re a part of me.”

After finishing his explanation, he pressed his lips together tightly, and ran her words about seeking balance through his mind again and again in the hopes of subduing his nerves.

A chime from his vambrace alerted him to a message he’d received on his comlink, and he tapped its screen a few times to navigate to his messages window. To his surprise, it was Karran. He guessed he had come to Arx, after all. He gave Nora a quick apology before lifting the vambrace to his mouth so he could reply, which he did in the same lilting tones of Zabraki that he and Karran often did.

“No need to apologize, friend. I’m in the main library, and I found some information that may be of interest to you. Meet me here? Oh–I should let you know, my master is with me. Helping with research. Don’t worry, she’s kind. Nothing to worry about. See you soon.”

He returned his attention to his master with a fleeting smile, “Sorry. A friend of mine is coming. He’s been helping with my research, as well. So, what do you think I should do? About you know, the dreams and everything else…”

Nora listened attentively to Bril’s revelations, her expression a mix of concern and understanding. The weight of his words hung in the air, the gravity of his experiences evident in his voice. She could sense the turmoil within him, the battle between the darkness and his own sense of self. It was a struggle that many Sith faced, and one that required careful guidance and introspection to overcome.

“Bril,” she began, her voice calm yet filled with empathy, “what you have faced is no small challenge. The pull of the Dark Side can be overwhelming, especially when confronted with such powerful and corrupting forces. It is not uncommon for remnants of those encounters to linger within one’s mind, manifesting as haunting dreams and echoes of the past.”

She paused for a moment, allowing her words to sink in before continuing. “But remember, my apprentice, you are not defined by the darkness that seeks to claim you. You have the strength to rise above it, to find balance within yourself. The key lies in acknowledging and confronting the darkness within, without succumbing to its temptations.”

Nora’s gaze turned intense as she locked eyes with Bril, her voice carrying a firm conviction. “You must learn to accept and understand the darkness within you, Bril, but also to temper it with the light. The path to true power lies in harnessing both aspects of the Force, in achieving harmony and equilibrium. Only then can you find the strength to resist the lure of the Dark Side and truly become a master of your own destiny.”

She reached out a hand, placing it gently on Bril’s shoulder, a gesture of reassurance and support. “I will help you navigate this treacherous path, my apprentice. Together, we will delve into the depths of your experiences and unravel their meaning. I will teach you techniques to protect your mind and strengthen your resilience against the encroaching darkness. But it is ultimately up to you to confront your fears, to confront the Tuk'ata that haunt your dreams.”

Nora’s voice softened, taking on a nurturing tone. “Remember, Bril, fear and shame are the allies of the dark side. Do not let them consume you. Instead, channel your emotions into understanding, into knowledge, into the strength to conquer the shadows within. Trust in yourself, trust in the teachings of our order, and know that you are not alone on this journey.”

Bril absorbed Nora’s words, the weight of her guidance settling upon him like a mantle. He knew that he couldn’t face his inner demons alone, and having his master by his side filled him with renewed determination.

“Thank you, Master,” Bril replied, his voice infused with gratitude. “Your wisdom and support mean more to me than words can express. I will take your guidance to heart and embrace the path of balance. Together, we will navigate the shadows and emerge stronger.”

As their conversation drew to a close, Bril’s comlink chimed again, indicating Karran’s arrival. He glanced at the message and smiled, feeling a surge of anticipation.

“My friend has arrived,” Bril said, excitement lacing his words. “Shall we meet him and continue our research together?”

Nora nodded, her eyes filled with confidence. “Indeed, let us greet your friend and continue our quest for knowledge. Remember, Bril, we are not just seekers of power; we are guardians of knowledge. By honing our understanding of the Force, we gain the means to shape the galaxy according to our will.”

Bril’s resolve strengthened as he walked alongside his master towards the library entrance. The weight of his experiences and the lingering darkness within him would not deter him from his path.

As Karran entered the main library, he slowed his pace to a brisk walk until he came to Bril, clasped his hand, and pulled him into a hug.

“The sun finds you well, friend.”

After releasing the smaller Zabrak, he turned his head to face the woman that had been standing with Bril and offered a slight bow, but never line of sight with his good eye. One, even another member of their order, could never be too careful around a Sith.

“You must be the master he spoke of. I am Karran Val'teo of Arcona”

Accept the darkness within you … temper it with the light. Harmony and equilibrium.

As the words repeated in his mind, and the depth of their meaning revealed themselves to him with each successive consideration, Bril’s eyes fell to the pendant that hung loosely around his neck. In its center, an obsidian equilateral triangle split into four smaller ones - three on the outside and resting between them all. All the lines and spaces were of equal measure, a clear reference to balance between the different aspects of the force. The three outside triangles represented the Ashla, the Bogan, and the Bendu whereas the interior one represented any Force user who had found balance between the three aspects.

That’s what he needed to do, and he took solace in knowing that he had the support of such a wise and considerate teacher to help him accomplish such a daunting task; moreover, he was glad to have found friends - and possibly even a more than that in a certain Echani woman - upon whom he could rely during the course of his work. No undertaking of notable consequence came without struggle, he knew that, and the words of his master reminded him that he could succeed. No, he would succeed. Nothing short of that would satisfy him.

A sigh left his lips, carrying with it any troubling emotions that lingered in his mind. It wasn’t long after the conclusion of his master’s brief lesson that Karran arrived.

Of course, he accepted the man’s embrace, and responded in kind, “And you, friend. I’m glad you came. I was beginning to fear that you hadn’t received my messages.”

A smile and a quick pat on the shoulder marked the end of their greetings. He turned to address his master while Karran introduced himself and carefully observed how they interacted with one another. He hadn’t forgotten how his Arconan friends reacted when he mentioned his clan. Karran’s was the tamest, so hoped that neither of the two Sith would give him reason to regret introducing them.

Titius was growing increasingly agitated. Consul, busy with meetings. Proconsul, who the hell knew?. House Leader, probably with the Procon.

Letting out an enraged screech, he pulled his blaster and proceeded to unload the entire clip into the data terminal. He then swiftly yanked his ID chip and stalked towards the exit.

Karran’s warm greeting and respectful demeanor put Nora at ease. She had grown accustomed to the cautiousness with which others approached Sith, but Karran’s approach showed a level of understanding and respect that was refreshing. She returned his bow with a nod, acknowledging his introduction.

“Greetings, Karran Val'teo,” Nora replied, her tone measured and composed. “I have heard much about your assistance to Bril in his research. It is a pleasure to finally meet you in person.”

She observed the pendant that Bril wore, recognizing its symbolism. It was a powerful reminder of the delicate balance that all Force users strived to achieve. Nora’s eyes flickered with a mixture of curiosity and admiration.

The Academy was something of a sensory overload for Lilina Mirin. Visually blind, she relied on auras and signals to navigate, but here in the academy, teeming with people, Force users of the light and the dark, the signals were difficult to read. Luckily, she walked a familiar path through the halls of the Academy she once trained in. The Academy had a regular cycle of visiting professors from across the Brotherhood to share their expertise. Usually it was The General that the headmaster wanted, to give seminars on military strategy, but this time it was Lilina, back for the first time as a teacher, for a workshop on Healing and the Light Side of the Force.

Bril nodded, “His knowledge has been invaluable. Without him, it would have taken far longer to get where I am in my research.”

And he still had a long way to go before he was satisfied, but any help that either of them were willing to offer was something he greatly appreciated. Bril turned a little to address Karran again. “I believe the last time we spoke, you mentioned your investigation of … Dathomirian excerpts, I believe? Or something similar?”

“Close. The Nightsisters did not seem to keep many written records, despite having a written language. Their matriarchy seemingly followed an oral tradition. I have been able to track down some old texts that seem to either be based on their magicks or vice versa.”

Karran now turned back to Nora.

“A colleague and I are interested in how we might recreate some of these rituals. As it stands, I am proof that an outsider can recreate at least one of them. I am now continuing that research with a different associate. I will admit, the translations have proven difficult. The language is a unique dialect and does not want to easily translate.”

Karran added the last two sentences with some embarrassment. He had little trouble embodying humility among friends, but among strangers, anything could be perceived as a weakness, and he certainly did not feel as though he was among friends at the Academy.

Aeternus had been going over a tome about memory recall techniques. while the fact is unknown to most of those in the brotherhood, he had no memories of what happened prior to being discovered by one the Dark Side Adepts.

It did not hinder him in the slightest, but once every few years he would be curious enough again to go over some material in the Shadow Academy again. This time, new tomes had been added to the collection, and he had been taking his time going through them. Most of the knowledge in them was far from relevant, as he had no interest in recalling recent events. But some of it showed promise, but he had been having trouble with translating it.

In a random corner of the Shadow Academy, sat a large number of books piled on top of one another. Some had fallen over, while others were stacked enormously high, consuming the entire corner of that section like a hornet’s nest having been built there…but with books. Deep within its core, through a carefully and meticulously planned ‘cave tunnel’ which lead to its center, sat Gehn with a small light. He was carefully reading books regarding anything he could find regarding assassin droids and how to maintain them.

He sat yet another book to the side before grabbing another from the shelf that was directly in front of him but was as quick to find that there were none left. With a sigh, he began crawling out from his nest and afterward just wandered away. Leaving the giant horde of books in his wake.

Tajga just started reading the next book about slicing, when sudden rising voices could be heard from the entrance to the Archives. It was neither scream or shouting, but a surprise mixed with a little bit of fear.

Next message from Archian has popped up on the screen.

My friend is in the Academy looking for you and Tajga to take her back home. Could you tell her please to whistle to make it easy to find you?

Tajga didn’t even look up at the screen, she was too busy finding new interesting facts from the book.

The doors to the entrance hall swished open, parting ways to let Malfearak Asvraal inside. His coat fluttered and snapped behind him as he beelined for the front desk and one of the administrative assistants sitting there. He moved with short, decisive steps and a surly frown on his hard-set face, the face of a man on the warpath. The assistant, a Rodian, offered him a curt smile, appearing—much to his credit—quite unaffected by the new arrival’s demeanor.

Malfearak opened his mouth to speak, but closed it almost immediately. He’d been laser focused on getting to the Academy but now, he realized he didn’t quite know what to say. What could he say? Who sent a murderous inquisitor to spoil my evening? That sounded quite deranged. Besides, one didn’t go kicking down the doors of the Academy demanding to see the Headmistress. That’s just not how it worked.

He sucked the air in through his teeth and forced a smile to his lips as he blew the air out. He went for charming, but from the way the Rodian blinked at him, he had a feeling he wasn’t masking his impatience all too well.

“May I, huh, help you, sir?” the Rodian honked at him.

“Yes, hello. I’m with the Wayfarer Society, I, uh, would like to file a request for an audience with the Headmistress.”

“Ah, yes, this can be arranged for the next trimester,” the assistant offered.

Malfearak’s words caught in his throat. “Th-The next trimester?”

“Unfortunately, the Headmistress is quite solicited.”

“You don’t understand, I need to see her. It’s a matter of life an death,” he insisted.

“One moment, I will see if I can find someone to assist you. You are welcome to take a seat in the waiting area, someone will be with you shortly.”

Two hours later, Malfearak was still waiting.

Nora listened attentively to Karran’s explanation, her emerald eyes fixated on him. She appreciated his honesty and humility, recognizing the challenges he faced in his research. His dedication and perseverance were evident, and she found herself intrigued by his pursuit of understanding the Nightsisters’ rituals.

As a Sith herself, Nora had always been drawn to the mysticism and esoteric aspects of the Force. The Nightsisters, with their unique connection to the dark side, held a particular fascination for her. The prospect of unlocking their secrets and potentially harnessing their power was an enticing one, but she knew it came with risks and complexities.

“I must commend your efforts, Karran,” Nora replied, her voice carrying a note of admiration. “Exploring the ancient practices of the Nightsisters is no small task. Their connection to the dark side is both intriguing and perilous. But I can appreciate the desire to understand and recreate their rituals.”

She paused for a moment, considering her next words carefully. She was hesitant to reveal too much about her own interests and motivations, but there was a certain level of camaraderie she felt with Karran, knowing they shared a common pursuit of knowledge.

“I, too, have delved into the forbidden arts of the dark side,” Nora continued, her tone low and confidential. “There is much to be learned from the darker aspects of the Force, but it requires a delicate balance and a deep understanding of its consequences. I trust you are aware of the risks involved.”

Nora’s gaze shifted briefly to Bril, acknowledging his presence and the role he played in their shared research. She respected his expertise and contributions, but there was an unspoken understanding between her and Karran—a connection forged through their shared curiosity and drive.

“If there is any way I can assist you in your translations or offer my insights, I would be willing to help,” Nora offered, her expression open and genuine. “We must tread carefully, for the path we walk is treacherous. But together, we may uncover truths that have long been hidden.”