Steward of the Arch

Posted on Tue Jan 15th, 2019 @ 10:42pm by Rusasha Djehuti-Lahan & Thane

3,912 words; about a 20 minute read

Chapter: Chapter V: Unbound
Location: The Cain-Arch, House Vuul Keep, Caanus (Just outside of Vlaand, base of the mountain on which Vaarthul sits)
Timeline: Early morning (local time), the morning after "The Cat and the Rat"
Tags: Vuul, Caanus, Axion, Haschel

OLD

Haschel knew where the Vuul estate was (everyone in the city did, even the few visiting tourists and foreign diplomats), knew the ins and outs through the sewers, and probably would have to chew and dig his way through some duracrete to get to the more secure parts of the mansion. It was stupid to consider a rescue attempt, sure. Haschel was always a dummy, or at least that's what he was told his whole life, but he was a damn fine little pilferer and proud of it. He pulled from a pocket in his coat a security key card that he swiped from the belligerent Vuul guy he bumped into in the pub. From under the coat he drew a perky little hold-out blaster pistol his stole from an exposed ankle holster from the Vuul guy that got flung out the window like so much trash. It looked like one of those cheap EC scout models rehashed over and over again for civilian use for centuries. It had been a long time since Haschel held a proper gun. It felt really good. Made him feel like a young buck again. Maybe now he could be the hero that saved a Jedi.

He hoped there was a really good reward.

At least one hundred credits.

That'd be like five whole gallons of cheese soup!

NEW

Rusasha's world was a void of darkness. She wondered if she was dead. She began to fall into despair...

...

...Mother...father...?

...Master Loren?

Everything is so dark and cold...I can't see. I...I failed again, didn't I? Just like when I failed the Knighthood Trials the first time. All the padawans passed...except me. Master Loren...she was the only one who didn't give up on me. She placed her hand on my shoulder when all I had was tears and a packed travel bag ready for my plans to abandon my life as a Jedi. I promised her I would never again give in to my darker side.

In my arrogance...I used the Force with rage on that man, and it was even easier this time than when I faced Zenarrah. All of my training and solemn oaths...for nothing.

I gave in to my anger again, and this time I hurt someone. Maybe even killed him. I failed the Order and I failed Master Sotah. I'm no Jedi...I'm nothing...just a failure...

Ru's green feline eyes groggily slipped open to the world again. She could feel herself seated, her head hunched forward and tilted down, caught in a state somewhere between deep sleep and wakefulness. She struggled with all desire to regain control of herself. After a minute of pushing forward towards consciousness, and falling back to gather more strength, she finally emerged with a sudden gasp like someone coming up for air after nearly drowning.

She took in a deep breath whilst feeling intense nausea along with her hands and ankles being tightly bound to what was blessedly a comfortable wooden chair cushioned with soft upholstery. While she felt like hell in her head and fatigued throughout her body, at least the quality chair wasn't going to cause her to develop sciatica anytime soon. She tried to reach out through her groggy haze to tap into the Force, but found that the nausea was making it extraordinarily difficult to focus on her powers. Subconsciously, however, it was her depression and lack of faith in herself that posed the strongest roadblock to her Force connection.

The young Jedi Consular then caught a whiff of the delicate fragrances of alien incenses and perfumes, so common amongst the Human nobility that frequented the gilded halls of Coruscant's elite and nobility. Naturally, each planet and associated cultures had their own particular twists on the usual popular scents, each typically being formulated from the flora and natural oddities that occurred on their homeworlds, and the smells now assailing the Cathar's nostrils were no exception.

A concoction not unlike species of clematis, common on Humancentric terrestrial worlds, mixed with a distinct ashen-wood smell filled the air about her, which itself was warmed by a nearby stone fireplace, its embers crackling over the charred dark wood within. The fireplace itself was constructed into the wall which, whilst concealed in regal pine-green coverings, was also made of the same material, although the room was comfortably warm as compared to the Caanan environment outside, and a soft thickly-spun rug could be felt at Ru's tied-back bottom paws.

The room itself was not large, and from the large bookcases situated at either side of the fireplace and the two emerald-green leather armchairs situated beside Ru, it would appear to be some form of study or small personal library. Above where she sat, an ancient-appearing metal chandelier was hanging, five candles flickering with peculiar violet flames, reminiscent of the Outer Rim world's stormy skies.

Indeed, whilst the room appeared to be nestled within whatever particular castle or mansion this may be, the faint sound of thunder could be heard rumbling through the fireplace's chute alongside the heavy hammering of relentless downpour.

Heavily-decorated, the walls were plastered with both portraiture and landscape paintings, each of obvious Caanan design. On either side of the one heavy wooden-and-metal door into the room were shields made of a dense wood, cracked with age and painted a deep forest-green. A bird with two heads was etched into it, forming the noble coat of arms that inevitably appeared on such objects.

"It is a craaw, Madam Jedi," came a sly voice from behind Rusasha, its tone both snide and simpering at once as it disturbed the woman's slow return to full consciousness. "An ancient winged predator of the Caanan skies," he continued, not yet revealing himself to the Jedi and in a position where she could not yet angle her head to see him. "The real thing, of course, has but one head, but remains the object of many a nightmarish Caanan folk-fable from years afore. I must presume my antecedents considered two heads even more imposing when deciding upon the House's heraldry."

"Lord Vuul," she ventured a confident guess speaking his name as a statement rather than a query.

"My young Jedi," the voice crooned as its owner brought himself fully into the captive's sight, "as a fellow representative of our fair Republic, you may refer to me as Senator Vuul."

Now fully in view of the Cathar, Ru could see that Vuul's visage was perfectly suited to the descriptions before provided by Lord Saan in Thaavitha. A middle-aged man, limp oil-black hair framed his narrow and hawkish features, giving the Caanan man an unhealthily gaunt appearance for a man of his years. Predatory blue eyes glistened within great sunken hollows of eye sockets, peering with a eerie hint of malice that was not really off-set by the practised artificial smile that tugged at his thin lips.

As was typical for Caanan Humans, Vuul had the same pale complexion former Knight Thane had, Ru recalled, yet seemed all the more unnatural for it, unlike his countryman.

Vuul then gave a low bow, his lithe, undernourished frame apparent and shifting within his emerald silk robes as he did. A few rogue strands of greasy hair slipped over his lined forehead as he conducted the motion, and when he returned to his standing posture, that same sycophantic smile and tone that he so obviously believed to be charming had returned.

"At your service, my lady."

"Be warned," Ru bluffed, "the Jedi Council knows exactly where I am. You cannot keep me here for long without risking more knights coming for me."

"Oh, I think you misunderstand, Madam Jedi," Vuul replied, clasping his hands behind his back as he began to slowly pace before the Cathar, his slippered feet silent upon the rug beneath them. "You see, you are no captive. We are not so uncivilised here in the Outer Rim, you must realise, unlike those roguish vagabonds of the Alliance. We believe in handling matters with a certain... decorum. Your current predicament is the result of a need for safety for your personage, although I appreciate the manner of your arrival here has left much to be desired, but your presence here was of utmost paramountcy. Those retainers of mine can become awfully forthright, can they not?"

The Caanan lord gave a small, heavily-falsified conversational chuckle at his own comment. "Of course, I understand you were not shy yourself! Old Theev suffered quite the tumble after your little magic show, although it's my hope it may teach the wastrel some manners. For that, I commend you."

It was an act Ru took no pride in, but a part of her mind tried to justify it as self-defense from inappropriate touching. Regardless, such an excuse wouldn't fly in a debriefing with the Jedi Council. In spite of this being a secret mission from Master Sotah, few things stayed secret for long in the Temple. The Council's judgment would likely be that she lost control, gave in to her emotions and darker urges. When she returned to Coruscant, it would likely be the end of her being trusted with field work for years to come. Maybe she could be an assistant for the head librarian. She loved books and studying the Jedi holocrons. It would be a nice, quiet, but dreadfully dull life surrounded by oceans of priceless knowledge and making not one bit of difference in the galaxy. The thought of endless boredom and talents wasted while growing old and waiting to become one with the Force was horrifying to her. She'd rather fall into a Sarlacc pit...or simply run away from the Order. But first thing was first; she had to get free and deal with Vuul.

"Senator," she said with the intent to initiate the negotiations, "may I ask how long you've served in the Galactic Senate?"

Vuul's lip curled as he halted his pacing, glancing at Ru with an expression of consideration, as if plucking the answer from the depths of his memory. "Since the Tragedy of Vaarthul," he said wryly, "twenty standard years ago."

"And in all that time," Ru added, "you've surely come to realize that Grand Master Quellus has the ear of both Speaker Hul and the Chancellor himself. It just so happens that my master is also on the Council and is very good friends with Quellus. If word reached the Council that one of their knights had claimed to have been kidnapped against her will while on a diplomatic mission to investigate dark side cult activity on Caanus, that would be most scandalous for you I would think."

"Oh?" The senator-lord commented with unconvincing surprise. "You are a bold one, my new young friend. However, even if such a spurious claim were to be true and believed by anyone beyond your little cabals, you would struggle to provide any substantive evidence." Vuul smiled sympathetically. "I am afraid you could quite seriously embarrass yourself, and that is the last thing I would want for you. Appearances can be such trivial things, especially during this times of galactic turbulence."

"Even if my claim of being kidnapped couldn't be substantiated," the Cathar shot back, "and even if you were acquitted of any wrong-doings by the Senate Ethics Committee, the allegations alone would most certainly come to light in the press. So in the court of public opinion, whom do you think the people will believe: the word of a career elitist politician from a troubled Outer Rim world, or the word of a young Jedi known for her charity work on Coruscant who was simply performing her duty to protect the Republic from evil, hm? Imagine what that would do to your poll numbers in the next election."

The smile did not leave Haavan Vuul's face. Instead, a sinister glimmer entered his pale eyes, its faint blue colouring encircled by a chalky bone-white halo that seemed almost ghostly in the firelight.

"I rather think that you are oversimplifying matters, Madam Jedi, although I am led to believe the artistry of the political sphere is not given particular priority within your tutelage at the Jedi Temple," the Caanan said politely, resuming his pace, hands clasped behind his back, bony elbows apparent within his shimmering robes. "With the exception of Grand Master Quellus himself, it seems the political capacity of the average Jedi Knight is restricted to border disputes and aiding separatists en masse."

Vuul now paused in front of Rusasha, leaning forwards so that his eyes were level with hers, peering at her in a way that made it look as though he were looking behind her eyes into her skull. "Or, even... raiding royal palaces. Hmm." The man cleared his throat with a grimace-smile and stood up straight again, looking away from Ru now. "No, I do not think any mutterings from a lone, perhaps rogue, Jedi will have any standing here on Caanus, or indeed on many worlds out here in the Rim. Perhaps the vaunted 'masters' of your cult's High Council shield you from the truths of the galaxy you claim to protect, but very few forgive and forget the innumerable atrocities your kind have inflicted upon its smallfolk over the generations." Vuul crept over to one of the landscape paintings ensconced upon the stone wall, running a spindly hand across its ornate and withered frame, the image depicting a field of jade-green grass burning in brilliant vermilion. "Caanus is no exception."

"Remarkable," Ru said shaking the cobwebs in her head with a scowling, though bleary-eyed gaze leveled in retort to Vuul, "you actually think you know us so well, and yet you know so little." She was about to defend the Temple's place in galactic history, but she thought it was a weak card to play and attempted to redirect the dialogue to something more productive. She wasn't here to engage in a pointless debate with an arrogant old man; she was in service to the Force to uncover the truth about what really happened to Thane's family. "Perhaps that is our common ground; our lack of specific knowledge. You hold an unwise view of the Jedi, and I am unwise to the Tragedy you spoke of. Tell me, how well do you know the man that calls himself Axion?"

Having let his guest speak, Vuul snorted. "To name him a man is a compliment in itself," he grumbled. "What I can say with certainty is that the beast suffers from the same psychosis and delusional sense of grandeur most of your ilk appear to embrace, regardless of what title you claim for yourselves." The Caanan shook his head. "Such wasted power. Such wasted potential. Your Force appears to play a cruel Jubilee Wheel when granting such talents to the creatures of this universe."

A bony hand crept up Vuul's face, scratching his pointed chin delicately with manicured talons. "Is that why you are here, Madam Jedi?" Vuul then asked, eyes narrowed in curiosity. "Has your Council suddenly developed an interest in reopening the investigation into the attack on Vaarthul; has their former little student caused them a modicum of embarrassment, mayhaps?" The senator then resumed his pacing.

"Judging by your words, Senator," Ru said in reply, the abhorrent sense of jealousy from the man seeping into her awareness as the Force started to reopen a tiny pinhole of connection into the folds of her mind, "it sounds to me like you hold nothing but contempt for Axion. Did he do something to you, personally, that inspires such antipathy towards the Jedi, or are you simply envious of our sensitivity to the Force? Perhaps it is nothing more than greater power that you seek?"

Pausing in front of selection of historical tomes arrayed on one of the bookshelves, Vuul let out a slow, low sigh of frustration. "Perhaps," he replied noncommittally, running a quick hand over one of the volumes. "It would be a lie if I denied coveting the innate powers your kind wield, but I do not think I am unique in that quality." He pulled the book from the case and began walking back over to Ru. "You see, I was a sickly child, the secondborn of the Steward of the Arch and never expected to amount to any true seat of power. Had I been fortunate, I would have only been moderately crippled by my ills, perhaps fit to serve as a minor member of a skaal's household, away from my father's disappointed gaze."

He placed the book carefully atop the varnished table beside Ru's chair. "That man hated me, I fear. Now, whilst I shall not bore you with the mundane details of my childhood, I will say that he did show me one iota of compassion during those grim years. Certainly, I benefited from the coin and influence of my house, but I was bedbound for the better part of five standard years. My only true outlet during that time was, well," Vuul tapped the top of the hefty volume he had put down, "books. Most notably, this leatherbound treasure trove: The Golden Age of the Sith. Needless to say; it is an interesting historical work, examining the rise and fall of those maudlin would-be conquerors in their earliest days. Again, I shall not dwell on the details of the fascinations I discovered within those pages, but I can say I discovered a purely academic interest in your order and its various sects. You've played quite a role in not only the history of the galaxy, but in Caanus' own, both ancient and recent. After all, if not for Axion's rampage in my liege lord's palace, Heritur* Thane would not have been discovered by your Jedi Order." A wide smile threatened to tear the Caanan's face. "And we know where that has led... don't we?"

"I wouldn't know," Ru said turning her gaze away from Vuul. "I never really knew Thane. His decision to leave us was his own. He was clearly not meant to be a Jedi. Powers or not, it is not a life meant for everyone." She returned her gaze to him and narrowed her green eyes into a defiant glare of antipathy. "I think he should have stayed here and learned to be a king. From my perspective, it's clear that Caanus is sorely lacking in suitable leadership." She struggled a bit as she started to feel some of the strength returning to her arms, but it wasn't nearly enough to break free from her tight bonds. Her patience with the old bureaucrat was at an end. Serenity be damned. "Now, shall we dispense with this delightful little conversation and get on with what your intentions are for me, or shall we continue to waste further time waxing nostalgic?"

Vuul tugged on the cuff of one of his velvet sleeves with an air of his own antipathy. "Well, quite." As appeared to be his way, the senator resumed his pacing of the room. From his sleeve, his hand reappeared with a cylindrical object held carefully between its pale-white fingers. A thin digit ran along the ornate etching that decorated the shaft of Rusasha's lightsaber.

"I have no intentions for you, Madam Jedi," he said. "I merely invited you here for your own benefit, to avoid any complications with the unpleasants of this troubled city and to appropriately welcome you to our quiet corner of the galaxy. I shall have my retainers appropriately chastised for their over-enthusiasm earlier, of course. They are so unused to Jedi on Caanus, after all."

The bright blade of Ru's weapon sprung to life, casting a terrific green green glow across the firelit chamber. A flash of wonderment washed over Vuul's face, although his tone remained calm. "You are free to roam as you will on Caanus, naturally, although I doubt you will find much in terms of a welcome. Ours is a world mired in antiquity and intrigue, far from the safety and traditions of the Core." Vuul twisted the blade in his hand carefully. "I have taken the liberty of preparing a private shuttle back to Thaavitha for you. Whilst you remain our esteemed guest for as long as you enjoy our hospitality, I would encourage you to make haste before any harm befalls you. My eyes cannot be everywhere at once, after all."

With a surprisingly deft flurry, Vuul sliced away Ru's restraints with the blade and then disengaged it. "You may inform your Council that there is nothing of their concern on Caanus. If there is something of any true importance, they are more than welcome to address it with my office on Coruscant." He offered the lightsaber hilt to the Cathar. "Always a pleasure to meet a Jedi."

Ru's face was somewhere between feigned serenity and a scowl. When she rose up to her feet, she felt more than a little light-headed with the effects of a brief orthostatic blood pressure drop, and had to keep one hand on the chair to steady herself. Her gaze switched skeptically between her primary symbol as a Jedi peacekeeper, and Vuul's irksome half-grin. With a leopard's agility, she catspawed the lightsaber into her grasp with a feline swipe that could have easily slashed painful bleeding lines in the man's palm if she didn't maintain her restraint.

"Yes," Ru said in a sardonic tone and narrowed eyes, "I'm sure." Only through use of the Force could she have taken her leave from the senator any faster. Her walking gait was hilariously wobbly, but she was far too irritated and busy grumbling to herself to notice.

That twit is so ridiculously bent! she thought with disgust as she was escorted from the residence by Vuul's security staff. A Geonosian has straighter legs than his crooked morals. He must have made a lot of grandiose promises to worm his way into office. Master Sotah was right to send me here. I wager his home is filled with a menagerie of terrible secrets, perhaps even Sith-related. He even dared to push a Sith history book in front of me! He knows the Order's zero-tolerance for Sith influence, especially in regards to the government. Such arrogance! There's no way I can let this go. The book alone justifies my presence here, and then there's Axion. Vuul's hatred for him seemed real enough. What is the connection there? There has to be some clue or a lead I could follow. Maybe if there was a way to sneak back inside. I may need to put my Shadow training to use again, but I don't know the layout, or the totality of his security systems. If only there was someone that could help...

"Magic kitty lady!" called out a familiar Ranat voice to her as she emerged onto the street from the front gate of the Vuul estate. "You live!"

The suddenness and close proximity of Haschel's greeting gave Ru a startle with an unexpected reaction. She released the most ludicrously cute kitten-sounding scaredy-cat yelp she'd let out in years. She face-pawed with total embarrassment at the girlishness of her shaken composure.

Gee, thanks, oh great and powerful Living Force. Ru thought with a sigh, blushing under her facial fur. Not exactly what I had in mind.

TBC

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