#lashowe

@averruncusho @ceruleanrainblues @chubbsmomma @strangepostmiracle thank you for reading, you get a tag. @skelelexiunderlord thank you for support, you get a tag.

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Archaeologists and scouts are a similar breed. While I would follow a set of tracks to my own doom, archaeologists are certainly prone to going too deep into a tomb or a ruin and not being able to get out. We’re both drawn to nesting sites in our own way - mine to animal, them to humanoid. We get along with others of our same profession, despite our client, but we keep our secrets just the same. And we both think of the other as far too obsessive over our chosen passion. There are archaeologists in the Valley, but the tombs are closed. Not sealed - you can still get in - but they aren’t open for archaeologists to go in and dust to their hearts’ content. Which strikes me as odd. Like I said to Thalia, I can’t resist a cave. Or a forest. Or a valley. Or a prairie. Really, any place I might conceivably find life, I can’t resist. And I’ve never met an archaeologist who could resist a tomb.

I want to know more. But first I need to meet with Lashowe before she gets herself killed.

She’s standing near the edge of the Valley, in front of one of the tombs. When she sees me she rolls her eyes. “Finally!” she groans, “If you were any later in showing up, we would have had to abandon this.” Chill out, it’s been twenty minutes. Thirty, tops. “I've been calling to the tuk'ata mother in their language. She should respond fairly… ahhh, here she comes now.” The tuk’ata matriarch is flanked by two smaller tuk’ata. She’s scarred, and her horns have been damaged. “Get ready,” Lashowe says, “This will not be easy… she’s a tough beast.”

I stop her. “Let me give this a shot first,” I say, and she steps back. Carth holds his blaster ready, in case the matriarch jumps at me. Animals have a different body language than people, but most animals have learned to recognize ours. Humans tend to approach aggressively, full-on body, no weak spots presented, arms raised as a threat. It’s different for every animal, of course, but most of them don’t like eye contact and prefer it when your head is low. I approach her slowly, my feet sideways with each step, my head and eyes lowered, and my torso open to her. She’s still a predator, and still a danger to me, but the other three are ready if she attacks. I can handle this otherwise. She’s confused - her head tilts at me. But her posture is still defensive. My hands are low but open, and when I get close enough I kneel into the dust. I don’t reach out to touch her. That would be a threat. I reach out with the Force. An animal wouldn’t understand a holocron. Only that she has something we want. We do not want her pups. We do not want her food. We do not want her land. We simply seek a human trinket from her den, and then we will leave her in peace.

And then Lashowe cuts her head off. The matriarch was surprised. She didn’t suffer. Carth reacts quickly and shoots the other two. Okay. Calm over. Lashowe, what the hell?! “I said let me handle it!” I shout at her.

“And I told you that the holocron was in her gullet - she ate it!” Lashowe shouts back, “I thought you were going to get close enough to kill her, not reason with her! What sort of Sith are you?”

Well, I’m not one. “The kind who doesn’t want to add ‘animal cruelty’ to her conscience!”

“You saw her, she didn’t suffer!” Lashowe cuts the matriarch open at the stomach and pulls out a small crystal. “And here is the holocron,” she says, examining it, “Such a small thing to be so valuable and require so much effort to obtain. I'll just run along, now, and give this to Master Uthar. I'll be sure to tell him of your contribution, naturally.”

No. She won’t. “Wait,” I say, “We’ll go to Master Uthar together.”

“Forget it,” she says sharply, “I’m not waiting up for you. That wasn’t our plan, anyway.”

Carth’s hand rests on his blaster, Jolee’s on his lightsaber. “The plan was we both get credit,” I remind her.

“Back off, I’m warning you!” She reaches for her own lightsaber now. “I’m not giving this up!”

“No more arguing,” I say firmly, “We take it back together.”

“Over my dead body!” she shouts, and she comes at me with her lightsaber. Mine comes out just as quickly. She’s scrappy, but not much of a fighter. She relies on agility rather than strength, but I have both. I don’t even need Carth or Jolee to help me. I take her down, no problem, and take the holocron. I take a moment, to honor the tuk’ata matriarch, and then I stand and shake a little bit. Trying to get off the dust of this world. That sort of brutality is a little hard to believe, even from a Sith. I know I shouldn’t be surprised. Lashowe barely showed any consideration for people, much less animals. But once - you know? Just once I’d like to meet a Sith who isn’t an asshole. You can be evil without being an asshole. You can wreak havoc on a galactic scale without kicking puppies for fun. Hell, Sith scouts weren’t like that. Maybe they didn’t all view an ecosystem as a living breathing thing rather than a resource, but they weren’t assholes. They weren’t evil, either, so I guess they don’t count. I can’t fault them for having a conservation view over my preservation view, I guess, it’s a valid enough position even if I don’t agree with it.

I take a breath. “We should probably take this back to Uthar while I’m thinking about it,” I say, “Then, I could go for some lunch, you guys?” They both agree so we head back.

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Master Uthar hasn’t moved from earlier - he’s still meditating in the central chamber, but he acknowledges me when I approach. “Greetings, young one,” he says, “I sense you have something to show me, yes? Something to earn you prestige.”

“Yes,” I say, “I have found a Jedi holocron.” I hand him the crystal.

He chuckles. “I had heard that such an artifact existed,” he says, examining the crystal, “Tell me, young one, did you acquire this device by yourself?”

“No,” I say.

“So I see.” He doesn’t seem to hold it against me. Like he knew anyway. “And Lashowe… does she yet live?”

“No,” I say, “She’s dead.”

He laughs gladly. Which is weird - I thought he liked her. That was the impression I got yesterday. “Well done!” he says, “You gained an artifact through trickery and eliminated an opponent at the same time. That is deserving of great prestige!” Ah, that’s what he was glad of - I was displaying Sithy behavior. “I also heard you ventured into the shyrack caves - tell me, what did you find there?”

“I dealt with the renegade students,” I say.

“Ahh,” he says, “The ones I ordered executed for their mutiny? It’s done then?”

Well, ultimately, yes, they aren’t a problem anymore. “It’s done,” I repeat, “They are… gone.” Not a lie, really.

“Indeed?” he says, his infection raised with just a hint of doubt, “We checked the caves and found only a couple bodies.”

“There was a large beast in the caves - perhaps it ate them?” I offer, trying to blame the terentatek. Not like anyone else will find it. If the caves are that dangerous, I doubt a lot of people go that way.

He shrugs. “Ah, it is just as good, I suppose,” he says, “The lesson is learned, I believe. Go now - you have done well, but you have not impressed me enough to declare you the victor.” And he returns to his meditation

We go for lunch in the cantina - there is a cafeteria of sorts in the Sith Academy, but frankly, I don’t want to deal with the sort of childish antics I’m sure happen there. I just want to eat in relative peace. Or at least Carth and I eat there. Jolee goes back to the ship for some reason. I don’t get why - he was complaining about the synthesizer on the Hawk so why he would choose to get lunch there is beyond me. But, whatever, he’s an adult, I won’t stop him. I figure I’ll just buzz him on the comm when we’re ready to go back.

Carth finishes first - he just got some sort of sandwich - but I’m going slower with my bowl of soup. Idly scrolling through what I skimmed off Master Uthar’s datapad. And Carth is watching me. He’s trying to be subtle about it but failing miserably. And I’ll admit it’s sort of nice? But also kind of creepy, so rather than just sit and live with it, I bring it up. “You’re staring - you need something?”

“Hmm? Oh, no,” he says quickly. Awkward bunny man. “Sorry.”

“You know, come to think of it, you’ve been watching me a lot lately,” I say. He’s been ready for a surprise fight a lot. “Why is that?”

His cheeks go red. “Oh, I…” he says softly… “thought you hadn’t noticed.”

I scoff playfully. “If you were any more obvious about it, your eyes would fall out of your head.”

His redness gets even worse and he smiles sheepishly. “Err... I'm not that bad, am I?”

“Not bad for a monkey-lizard, no, not bad at all.”

He smiles and laughs. “Damn it, woman, if you keep hounding me I'm going to put you over my knee and teach you a lesson!” he jokes.

Whoa! That’s the most overt thing he’s ever said to me! “I’d like to see you try!” I laugh.

He shakes his head. “You just wait, you’ll get yours.”

“I’m sure I will!”

“At any rate,” he says more seriously - not like serious, serious, but he’s not joking anymore, we’re just two close friends chatting over lunch. I mean, hopefully more than friends, but as it stands, anyway - “I wasn’t ogling you. I've just been admiring you.” Don’t melt, Rena, you’ll spill your soup all over your lap and kill the mood. “I've been watching you in action. Your- your skills. You have a natural talent that is incredible. Not that, ah, all I do is watch you or anything. I don't mean anything by it.”

I raise my eyebrow. “Any other observations?”

“Well,” he says slowly, considering his words, “maybe a few. I hope you don’t mind if I keep those to myself.”

“You don’t have to be so embarrassed, Carth,” I say, “although it is adorable. I don’t mind if you watch me.”

He relaxes, relieved, and lets out a short laugh. “Why didn't you tell me that sooner? You would have saved me a lot of trouble!”

“Give up the chance to give you trouble? As if!”

He laughs again. When he calms down a bit, he continues. “I will say one thing, though,” he says, “We've come a long way with your help. Whether it's the Force or fate or just dumb luck… I'm glad you're here.” Don’t melt, no melting. “We probably would have never made it this far without you.” He scratches the back of his head. That’s his apology scratch, I know that well. “I, uh… I should have said this long before, instead of doubting you. I, uh, hope you can forgive me.”

I smile softly at him. “You already apologized once, Carth.”

“And you accepted it, but that doesn't mean I'm forgiven,” he says just as softly, and I love his soft voice, “I'd like to be.”

“Why do you need my forgiveness, anyway?” I ask, casually going back to my soup.

“Because you're an impressive and beautiful woman,” he says, “In some ways… good ways… you remind me of my wife and I'd like to make things right between us.”

Beautiful? I mean… he’s called me that before, but always more like a flirty nickname, never as… never like that, I mean… whoo, really hard not to melt right now… Is my face red? “You… you think I’m beautiful?”

He smiles. “I'll, uh, take that as a yes,” he says. He’s also trying to play it cool. “I’m glad that’s settled.” He’s probably wishing he hadn’t finished his sandwich so quickly so he’d have some way to avoid meeting my gaze.

He starts to say something but before he can get a word out I reach over the table and kiss him. He’s startled at first but then he leans into it. I could get used to this.

Suddenly Jolee clears his throat. Where the hell did he come from? He’s smiling, but God, this is kind of embarrassing, which is weird because I’ve been talking to him about this, it’s not like this is a surprise for him. But Carth and I break away from each other and try to casually regain our composure. Even though clearly neither of us was done with the other. “Don’t stop on my account,” Jolee says, which makes it even worse. “I’d ask if you were ready to get back to the Valley, but it looks like you’re still eating.”

“Yeah,” I say awkwardly, “Soup.”

He sits down next to Carth, who thankfully takes over the conversation. “What were you doing at the Hawk?”

“Nothing important,” he says with a shrug, “I wanted to put on a different pair of boots. You’d be surprised how much the wrong pair of boots can hinder your connection to the Force.”

“Seriously?” Carth says in disbelief, “Boots can limit your abilities.”

“Not like that,” I say, “It’s not like you can’t fight if you’re wearing the wrong shoes. But some boots are better for dirt and some boots are better for rocks. If you’re uncomfortable, then it’s just harder to hear the Force. Right?” Jolee nods. Carth still looks skeptical. “I swear to God.”

“You spent a month in the Enclave on Dantooine learning about boots?”

“Not just boots - it’s… a Jedi’s strength flows from the Force, and if your feet hurt, then there goes some of your focus. Not just feet, either - any sort of pain or discomfort. But there’s a reason we wear robes instead of armor. It’s not just a fashion choice.”

Carth blinks a bit. “Okay,” he says finally, throwing his hands up in defeat, “Any other strange Jedi things I should know about? Special socks?”

“Ah, I can’t tell you about the special socks,” I say teasingly, “Jedi secret.”

“Jolee, she’s not serious, is she?”

Jolee starts to open his mouth, but I interrupt. “He’s not a Jedi, he can’t tell you about the socks.” Jolee smiles at me. Carth looks between me and Jolee, eventually figures out I’m bluffing, and just gives up. I go back to my soup. But now I’m curious. “Why did you leave the Order, Jolee?”

Jolee gives a small chuckle. “Who said I left the Jedi?”

“You did,” I say, “You said you weren’t a Jedi anymore.”

“Well, technically, I was never a Jedi, I was only a Padawan,” he corrects, “Not that that makes a difference to most. But as for the order, itself… no, I never left it. It left me.”

“Hang on,” Carth says, “You’re not a Jedi?”

If I had asked that question, he would bluster at me a bit, but not Carth. “I follow the Jedi Way and use the Force. That makes me a Jedi last time I checked. But the Order, itself, the Jedi Council and so forth… no, I'm not a part of that and haven't been for a long time. And good riddance, I say!”

“You say the Order left you,” I say.

Jolee groans a bit. “You know what I hate?” he says. Then he tosses his head a bit. “Well… you know, lots of things, really. But I'm old and easily annoyed. But that's beside the point. What I really hate are how most people view the Jedi. Everyone thinks the Jedi are perfect, that they can do no wrong. They think the Jedi Council is completely incapable of injustice.”

“I don’t think that,” Carth says with a shrug.

“Hmm,” Jolee hums, “No doubt you've been on the receiving end of Jedi justice at least once, eh?” Has he? I guess the Mandalorian Wars. “And I'm not even talking about how some of us fall to the Dark Side,” he says to both of us, “No, that's plenty indication of our fallibility, but it's something else entirely. No, I'm talking about how, more often than not, your average robe-wearing Jedi can try to do the right thing and still be completely wrong.”

I shrug. “Nobody can be right about everything.”

“That's true,” he says, “but it's not what I meant. I guess I'm not being clear, am I?” He scoffs. “Come to think of it, I don't have to be clear. Someone my age is entitled to ramble, dammit!” (Carth chuckles a little - he isn’t as used to Jolee’s manner of speaking as I am.) “But for your sake I'll try to explain. I'll tell you a little tale about a Jedi Master I once knew. Hortath, I think. Or was it Hartoth? I could never get it straight.” He shakes his head. “Master Hortath was a kindly old Jedi who meant well, but the most near-sighted thing in the Core, I swear. He would walk into walls, knock over tables, mistake apprentices for rancor beasts, that sort of thing. And he was too proud to submit to proper treatment. Some used to counsel him and urged ‘Use the Force, Master Hortath. Allow the Force to see for you.’” Now there’s a solution. “But he refused to believe that his eyes were failing. He simply squinted more and more as the years went on, the other Jedi resignedly passing it off as the amusing quirk of a compassionate old man.”

“Ah, like blustering on with stories from the past,” I tease.

“I’m not finished yet! Now shush!” Jolee mock-scolds, “So one day a young Padawan meets Master Hortath in the courtyard and, not knowing of his blindness, asks him for directions to the Council. Quite sure of himself, Hortath gave the lad directions… which happened to lead outside and away from the Enclave. The Padawan is confused, naturally. He asks if Master Hortath is sure, and of course Master Hortath says that he is. The Padawan suggests that perhaps he should ask someone else… but the proud Hortath now feels insulted. He tells the Padawan to take the route he prescribed and no other. Rather dejectedly, the Padawan did as he was told... and so ended up leaving the Jedi Order forever.” Carth grimaces a bit. “It was decided that the boy's fate was to leave the Order anyway… though whether that was out of respect for Hortath or because the boy went on to something else, well, we'll never know.”

Carth and I are both silent for a moment, then Carth asks, “So… you knew this Master Hortath? Or the Padawan?”

Jolee shakes his head. “No, no. Both of them were before my time. Well before the Sith wars, even.”

“I don’t think I understand…” I say, and Carth indicates the same.

Jolee sighs. “The tale is about blindness and I thought the point was clear,” he says, “At any rate, you think about it. You're the one who asked why the Jedi left me, remember? Finish your soup - my feet are itching for a traipse through a tomb.”

“But you didn’t really answer the question,” Carth objects.

@averruncusho @ceruleanrainblues @chubbsmomma @strangepostmiracle thank you for reading, you get a tag. @skelelexiunderlord thank you for support, you get a tag.

A/N: Yes, it’s been three months. But I have a job, and I only just got back to writing stuff, so don’t judge me bro.

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If Yuthura really does intend to slow the others down - and despite her obvious intent to betway me I believe she will - then I think I can afford to spend some time in the archive library while Carth tries to discreetly track down Dustil. No idea what Jolee is up to, but he may well be looking for more prestige. I’m not complaining. 

The library is anything but boring - other students are constantly whispering about the happenings of the Academy. “All I’m saying is, if Ajuunta Pall’s sword is so powerful, why hasn’t Uthar gotten it yet? Any student who got their hands on it could take him down.” “As if you could run the Academy, Luka - get real.”; “I heard Uthar’s master went insane.” “I heard he’s hiding in one of the tombs. Let him rot in there - if the tuk’ata don’t get him, the shyrack will.”; “Did you hear about those renegades in the Shyrack Caves?” “They’ll never get out of there… if Uthar wants them dead he just has to wait them out.” Mostly just those three conversations. Everyone has one piece of the puzzle, but no one’s put them together. Me, I’m just trying to focus on finding information about the terentatek. I have to move past the holocrons - I don’t see anything there about Dark Side creatures - so I move back to the old, hardbound books. Not much of anyone back here - a few older students here and there. 

As I scan the shelves, I actually crash into another student. I catch myself, but he actually falls over. “God, I’m sorry,” I say, offering a hand to help him up, “Are you okay?”

He takes my hand. “Yes. No, the fault was entirely mine,” he says. He straightens himself up. He’s not like the other Sith. “Hello,” he says to me, “I don't remember seeing you here before. My name is Kel... Kel Algwinn.”

“Rena Visz. Nice to meet you.” He looks and feels… off somehow. “Are you all right?” I ask him. 

“I…” he starts to say, but then he stops. “… oh, uh… nothing.”

He’s worse at lying than I am. “Are you sure?”

“Y-yes,” he stammers, “My master always says I am too trusting, too willing to show weakness. You're a Sith, so I really shouldn't… you know…”

“But I’m not a Sith.” Then I shrug. “Not yet, anyway,” I say under my breath.

“Oh, I know that.” He stammers a bit more. “I mean… you aren't yet, but you intend to be. I mean, you're just like everyone else here.”

Interesting phrasing. “And you’re not?” No, no he’s not.

“Well, I… I didn't mean it like that…”

“Well, how did you mean it?” I continue trying to scan the shelves for a book on Dark Side creatures.

“I… I shouldn't trust you,” he says hesitantly, “I can't trust you, can I?”

“Sure you can,” I say, trying to reassure him. I find the right book and I pull it out.

He looks around a little, nervously. But finally he decides to trust me. “I just… don't feel like I belong here.” He scratches his neck a bit. “I thought maybe I did at first, but now…” He shrugs. “I don't know,” he says with a sigh, “I just have so many doubts.”

I lean back on the shelf a little. I smile at him gently. “If it doesn’t feel right, then maybe you shouldn’t be here.”

“But where would I go?” he asks, “What would I do?”

I shrug. “Maybe you could try the Jedi? See what they think.”

He straightens. “I… don't know.” A shrug. “I never really thought about it. Maybe I should seek it out, give it a try.” He smiles. “Thank you,” he says, “Thank you so much.”

Anyway. Book. I sit down with it at one of the tables in here. This book is older, judging by the spelling conventions, but it still has a bit of information about creatures connected to the Force, from across the known galaxy at the time. The terentatek entry is a bit lengthier than some of the others. They lay dormant, according to the book, until the Dark Side becomes prominent in the galaxy, like after the war with Exar Kun. Or now. Their claws are poisonous, but the poison does more damage when the skin is broken. The rest of the body is not toxic in the same way - not harmless, but not dangerous in and of itself. They are immune to the Force. And they reproduce by laying eggs. That had to be a gutsy exobiologist to take a terentatek egg and examine it. Reports of one in some caves near here. I wonder…

Lashow leans over my shoulder. “Any information on tuk’ata in there?” she asks.

“Uh…” I do a quick flip through and find the entry. “Yeah.” I’m done reading anyway, so I hand it to her. “Go nuts.”

She sits down next to me and starts reading while I note down this new information in my datapad. She glances over at me, does a double-take at my face. “You?” she says in disbelief, “I can’t believe you actually made it into the Academy. You certainly don’t act like a Sith.”

“Why? Because I gave you a book I was finished with?”

“For one thing, yeah.” She scoffs a little, noting stuff down in her own datapad. “It doesn’t matter,” she says confidently, “It just so happens that I have a sure-fire way of pulling ahead in this little contest of ours. You don't really have a chance.”

“Oh, yeah? And how’s that?”

“I've found an artifact that will impress Uthar far more than anything you could ever scrounge up. I'll win for sure.”

“If you’re so confident, why haven’t you taken it to him yet?”

“I don't have it just yet,” she says, sneering, “I'll get it… when I'm good and ready.”

I glance at the book. “It’s stuck behind a pack of tuk’ata, isn’t it?”

“So what if it is?” she says quickly, “I’ll get it eventually, regardless. Nothing good comes without a bit of a fight… that's the Sith motto, more or less.”

I glance at her up and down. “You talk a big talk,” I say, “No offense meant at all. Talking big works on people. You can intimidate people. Persuade people. Puff yourself up so they move away.” She glances around a bit, trying not to look nervous. “Animals are a different story. They don’t care about words. If you want to take out an animal, you have to be faster than them or stronger than them. Or both. You have to know them as well as you know yourself, and you’re not going to get any of that out of a book. The Force can only take you so far.”

“And what do you know about it?”

“You’re talking to a scout, here. I’ve dealt with more animals than you can imagine, in their habitats. Animals that have never been documented, until I saw them. I learned to think on my feet, know what they know, think as they thought. That leaves marks on your soul.” I look at her again. “You don’t have those marks. You’ve never considered their souls, their connection to the Force, and if you go up against them, you will fail.” I can see in her eyes, I’ve convinced her. “You need my help if you want to get that artifact.

“Hmm…” She’s trying to sound like I haven’t scared the shit out of her. “You make a decent case. I suppose it's possible that Master Uthar could award both of us prestige. We'd be ahead of the others, for sure… I want something out of this, first, however.” Of course she does. “I want you to tell me about some lead you have for where I could find more prestige.”

Hmm - which one? “I heard about some renegades hiding in the shyrack caves - Master Uthar wants them killed.” She’ll probably run into the terentatek and turn back. If that’s not there anymore, the shyracks will probably turn her away. And if neither of those happen… she’s never broken a nail in her life, has she? She won’t last long in a cave.

“Oh?” she says curiously, “I hadn't heard about them. It certainly merits looking into. All right, I'll let you in on my plan.” She shows me her datapad. “The artifact that I've discovered is an ancient Jedi holocron.” Looks impressive. “Unfortunately, the holocron lies in the gullet of a tuk'ata mother.”

“The pack matriarch.” Based on the image in the book, the little bit that I read before handing it to her, they’re matriarchal. “She’ll be hard to get through to. Packs are a lot like the Sith sometimes, actually - the leader has to fight their way to the top.”

“I can arrange for us to 'meet' her, but you're going to have to help me in putting her down,” she says, and she takes back her datapad. “Go into the valley when you're prepared enough. I'll be amongst the central pillars, near the north end.” She closes the book and stands up. “I'll be waiting, so don't take too long.” And she leaves, leaving the book on the table. Doesn’t even put it on the rack to get put away. You know, there’s evil and then there’s just plain rude. You can be evil and not rude. I on the other hand am neither, so I pick the book up and put it on the librarian’s cart to be put away. (The librarian nods thankfully at me.)

“Hey, Dustil!”

My head perks up when I hear that name. Of course it does. I look around, trying to see who spoke and who he’s talking to. There - two humans. “Hey, Dak, what’s up?” That must be the right Dustil. I can tell - he looks like Carth. He has the same facial structure.

“I haven’t seen Selene lately, have you?”

“No, Dak…” Dustil says slowly, I can feel he’s sad. “Selene… Selene died in the Valley. Master Uthar told me.

“Oh, gods, I’m sorry, man.” 

“Thanks, Dak.” The conversation continues, but they walk away.

I sit back down and concentrate. I need to tell Carth that I’ve found Dustil, but I don’t want to use the comlink in case someone’s listening. I need to contact Jolee. I’ve never done this when the other Jedi wasn’t within eyeshot. So if I send out vibes through the Force, if I concentrate on him, maybe he’ll hear me. Jolee… Jolee… Jolee…

“You called?” he sends, “I wasn’t expecting this.”

“Do you see Carth? I found Dustil, he’s here in the library.” 

A pause. Then, “His excitement is palpable. Should we come to you?”

“No,” I send quickly, “No, if things get tense, I don’t want the other patrons getting caught in the crossfire. Or listening in.”

“Do you have a plan?”

“The start of one. Get into Uthar’s room, I feel like that’s a good start before we head out into the valley.”

Another moment. “You can imagine his excitement has dwindled.”

“He’ll live. Meet me back at the room, I’ll be there in a bit. I’m going to see what Dustil does.” Jolee breaks with me, and I try to discreetly watch Dustil.

@averruncusho @ceruleanrainblues @chubbsmomma thank you for reading, you get a tag. @skelelexiunderlord thank you for support, you get a tag.

A/N: I loved writing this chapter so so much. Almost as much as I loved writing chapter 89, but that hasn’t been posted yet so y’all gotta wait.

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It’s late, closer to evening, when we meet Master Uthar. He’s older and gray. Not his hair, his skin. But he has a sort of wisdom to him. Different from the wisdom of the other Jedi I’ve met, but a wisdom nonetheless. He looks at me knowingly. No idea what he knows, because if he knows why I’m really here, he’d have me killed. He stands in the center of a large entry hall and addresses me, Mekel, Shaardan, and Lashowe. “Greetings, prospective students,” he says to us all, “It appears we have a late entry. Who do you bring before me, Yuthura? A young human, bristling with the Force?”

“A human that has had some training, it seems, Master Uthar,” she tells him, “Very promising, I think.”

Shaardan laughs. “Promising?” he repeats, “Hmph. That one's not worthy to lick spit off your shoes, Master!” 

“I met this one in the colony,” Lashowe adds, “Unworthy, if you ask me.”

“That I'll judge for myself, thank you,” Uther says, waving them to silence. “What is your name?” he asks me.

“Rena Visz.”

“Well, then, Rena, tell me, what do you know of the ways of the Sith?” he asks me, “What preconceptions has your mind been polluted with?”

“Well,” I say, thinking about it, “I know duty and discipline are important all the way down the hierarchy. Never met a Sith who wasn’t committed to his orders. When fighting them, I know they’re powerful, a force to be reckoned with. Great duelists. Good technique.” I shrug. “Never had one able to beat me in a friendly duel, but… Killed a fair few.” Why did I say that? That was so stupid to say.

“Hmm…” he says passively, “Most impressive, if it is true. Those who were too weak to stand against you deserved their fate, so expect no retribution from us.” Thank God for that. “There is much you can learn from the Sith, and we from you.” He then addresses the others as well as me. “The Jedi equate the light with goodness and strength and the dark with weakness and evil. That is their tradition and it is truly no surprise that they cling to it for comfort. We, however, do not treat the Force as a burden. We treat it as a gift, a thing to be celebrated. We use it to acquire power over others.” That, I hate. “And why should we not?” Morals, maybe? “Because the Jedi say we should not? We are as the Force is meant to be. The Jedi would hide that from you. They would tell you the Dark Side is too quick, too easy, all so that they need never challenge the passions that lie within them. Joining with us means realizing your true potential. It means not stifling yourself solely for the sake of hide-bound shamans and their antiquated notion of order. Be what you were meant to be.”

He turns to Lashowe. “What say you, Lashowe? Are you ready to learn the secrets of the dark side? Dare you?”

“I dare, Master Uthar!” she exclaims, “I’m ready!”

“Brash and fiery, as expected. Turn that passion to your advantage, child,” he says, and he turns to Mekel. “What of you, Mekel? Are you ready?”

“I am, Master,” Mekel says, “I’m ready.”

He nods at Mekel. “I sense much anger within you, young one. That is good. That will provide you power.” He turns to Shaardan. “And Shaardan… what of you?”

“I am always ready!” Shaardan says far too eagerly.

“I see,” Uthar says, not impressed, “You had best gather your wits for the trial ahead, boy, or you will not last.” And finally, he turns back to me. “And you, Rena? Does this interest you? Are you ready to learn more of what I speak?”

Not in the slightest, but I have to stay here until I find Dustil and get the Star Map. So I lie. “I’m ready to learn more.”

“Are you?” I hate that skepticism in his voice, it makes me feel uneasy. “I can see into your heart, Rena,” he says, “and I see the dark kernel that is there. If it is ready to sprout remains to be seen.”

He turns to address us all again. “Now, then,” he says, “All of you four recruits have shown a degree of facility with the Force… you all have the potential to become true Sith. Only one of you, however, will succeed. The one who succeeds will be admitted to the academy as a full Sith. All others must wait until next year and try again… if you survive.” He gestures to Yuthura. “My pupil, Yuthura, shall be your teacher and master while you attempt to prove yourselves. Heed her words.”

Yuthura steps forward. “As Master Uthar said, none of you are true Sith yet,” she says to us, “For that to occur, one of you must do enough of worth - gain enough prestige - to be selected. What is an act of worth? You must learn that for yourselves. Remember that you are competitors, here - fight for your destiny, or go home.”

Uthar speaks again. “If you wish to gain a lead over your competitors, the first of you to learn the Code of the Sith and tell me of it will be rewarded. The rest is for you to discover.” Sounds like fun - I have to compete against some of the most competitive people in the universe. “Welcome to the Dark Side, my children. Your one chance at true greatness lies here.”

The three of us are led to a bed chamber marked with my name. It’s not very big, mostly a bed and a footlocker with a computer terminal, but they’ve also given me two bedrolls, presumably for Carth and Jolee - my slaves, remember? Jolee hates it, but Carth and I both agree to give him the bed. He’s older and bitchier than either of us, so there’s no changing our minds. We all push the bed as close to the wall as it will go, so there’s more room for the bed rolls. 

Jolee falls right to sleep. And it’s a pretty heavy sleep. I spend some time using the computer terminal, trying to get a map of the Academy. Gives me a place to start looking for Dustil, and maybe find the archives. It makes sense to me that they would have information on the terentatek, information that I can actually access, unlike the Jedi. 

Carth comes up to me. “Hey,” he says, “can I talk to you? It’s important.”

Oh. “Yeah, sure.” I load the map into my datapad and sit on the floor next to him. “What’s up?”

“You know, I was listening to what you told Yuthura earlier,” he says, “Pretty intense stuff.”

“Yeah,” I say, “Sorry I stole from your story a little bit.”

“I’m not bothered by that, don’t worry about it.”

“I didn’t think you would be, given the circumstances.”

“And when you told her Jolee and I were slaves, I was a little surprised. Mostly surprised that she bought it,” he says, “Because you’re a lousy liar, I think I’ve said that before.”

“You have.”

“But what I’m trying to figure out is…” he says slowly, and I notice now his hand is resting on his blaster pistol, “… you’re not a good liar at all, but your story to Yuthura, about your views on the Jedi, was convincing. Convincing enough to fool a Sith. Hell, convincing enough to where I couldn’t tell if you were lying or not. And the last time that happened… well, you know what happened…”

“Carth, what are you asking me?”

“I wanted to be in here, sure, to find Dustil,” he says, “but I’m starting to wonder why you wanted to be in here.”

His hand on his blaster looks less passive now. And it’s making me a little nervous. “Carth…”

“I’m asking you this because you’re my friend and I care about you,” he says quickly, “Why did you want to get into this academy?”

“I told you,” I say, “To get to the Star Map and find Dustil.”

And now his blaster comes out. Now, even as close as he is, I could still get the blaster out of his hand. I could still take him out if he makes me, if I have to. But he wouldn’t be doing this if he really wanted to hurt me. If Carth wanted to hurt me, he wouldn’t have let me see the blaster. I’ve had my back to him enough. He could have shot me while I was asleep. If he wanted to take me out, he wouldn’t be doing this. “I want you to tell me, yes or no,” he says, hand steady, eyes almost glistening, and the emotion I get off of him is a firm, repeating, “not again”, “do you want to join the Sith?”

I try to stay calm. I take a deep breath, and say, “No.”

“Did you mean all the things you told Yuthura?”

“Some of them,” I tell him honestly.

“What do you mean, some of them?”

I take another deep breath. “The Jedi Order has lied to me, and kept things from me. You said it yourself, they hadn’t told me everything. When they sent me to the Grove to find Juhani, they told me it was to cleanse the Grove of its dark taint. They didn’t tell me that it was a person. And that’s just a lie I’ve uncovered. I don’t think that’s the only one. On Kashyyyk, we fought a creature called a terentatek that feeds on the Dark Side, but when I went to look it up in their archives, I couldn’t find anything, like they’re actively keeping information from me. Bastila herself told me that the Jedi believe no one should be executed for their crimes, no matter what they are. The Jedi would rather restore Malak to the light than kill him, and there we disagree. I don’t think he should live when he’s killed so many people, and I don’t think you do, either.” He doesn’t respond. “I think some of their teachings are wrong and out of date, and I believe, as you do, I know you do, that the Order’s decision not to intervene in the Mandalorian War was a bad one - in face, if Revan and Malak hadn’t had to disobey the Order to help, I don’t think they would have fallen, but we’ll never know.”

“And about the Dark Side?” he says, “About it corrupting?”

“I think we’ve both felt and seen how it corrupts. But I don’t think that’s the Force so much as how you use it. At the end of the day,” I say, “all I want to do is help people. I want to help as many people as possible. On that, the Order and I agree. The Sith, on the other hand, actively dissuade helping people. The Order and I may disagree on a lot of key points, but when it comes to our ultimate goal, it’s no contest.” He doesn’t lower his blaster. “What more do you want from me, Carth?”

“I want some kind of assurance, but I don’t think that’s possible,” he says.

I think for a moment. “Maybe it is,” I say after a while, and I hold out my hand, “Take it.” He hesitates, looking at me skeptically. “If I do anything to hurt you, you’ve already got your weapon out - you could shoot me before I get close to my lightsaber.” He’s still a bit skeptical, but he takes my hand. “You’re not a Jedi,” I say, “so it won’t be the same, but I think I can still show you that I’m telling the truth. With the Force.” His grip tightens on his blaster. I close my eyes. Take a deep breath. Feel the Force.

I don’t think I can describe in words exactly what I show him. To even describe it as vibes of trust would be to undermine and cheapen it, not to mention understate. I guess… imagine a warm yellow light, imagine the safest you’ve ever felt. The first time you tried your favorite food. Sometimes that’s what the Force feels like, that warm, safe feeling. I try to tell him that I mean everything I said to him, that I would never, ever, do anything to hurt him the way he’s been hurt before. I don’t ever want to look at him and feel the heart-stab he feels when he talks about Dustil and Morgana, his wife, and know that I did that. I couldn’t live with myself, love or no love. To feel his anger and disappointment in me is not a pain I think I could bear. The reason you are here, Carth, I try to tell him, is that I could never fall to the Dark Side if you’re there. You’ve already been hurt too much and I don’t want to do that to you again. I don’t want you to have to watch it and know that you couldn’t stop it. Not again.

He sets down his blaster, and lets go of my hand. He smiles and looks up at me, his eyes glistening with tears. “Thank you,” he mouths, his throat choking.

“It’s the truth,” I say. He nods wordlessly.

He takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” he says. For the blaster, I assume.

“Don’t worry about it,” I say, “I understand.”

“No, for…” he starts to say, but he cuts off. I look at him curiously. Until he finally finishes: “Everything.”

Okay, now I have no idea what he means. But that was kind of draining, for both of us it would seem. I feel like I could actually sleep the whole night through.