Wolph in the Fold

Posted on Wed Aug 26th, 2020 @ 10:17pm by Thane & Bomoor Thort & Amare

2,501 words; about a 13 minute read

Chapter: Chapter VI: The Last Bastion
Location: Coruscant
Timeline: Mid-Week Three (Days after "The Invisible Hand")

For the dark mistress of the Sith, it was a day to mark down for the ages. To be where she stood, to witness the repositories of many centuries of priceless knowledge, and to be surrounded by so many Jedi--each of whom were all trained to quickly dispatch one such as her--it was like a fantastical dream laced with a heavy sense of profound and very tense reality.

"You seem confused, Zaracoda," said the kindly young Jedi padawan. A pleasant model of a charming and congenial personality, Amare's guide was a tall young human male of long shoulder-length raven hair with some of it tied into a neat bun upon his head, and tanned fair skin. He wasn't quite as fetching as Thane, but not even her dark master could match this young man's twinkling smile. It made Amare recall the old Nautolan saying that one cannot get far in life if one was given to concealing one's smile. For her, it was ironic now that she was not only concealing her smile, but the very truth of her entire being surrounded by thousands of mystically empowered swordsmen and women. Her life depended greatly on proving those old deep sea hermit sages of Glee Anselm and their old tribal wisdom wrong.

Amare blinked at the archival computer terminal and pulled her brown robe a bit tighter around herself as she began a very subtle ritual she devised to alter the veil of compassion and decency she 'wore' around her very essence. As she replied to the human, Amare channeled a false aura of embarrassment and shame as she turned a mild puppy dog gaze to her host, luring the good in him with her big beady eyes that held a pleading expression in them for the young man to save a young lady from her helplessness. "Ehh...I, uh...I know how to fish, and weave clothing, and use the Force here n' there when I need to, but I'm...I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm not so good with computers." She chuckled nervously and added, "We had very little in the way of technology where I came from. Can you show me how to use it, please?"

"Padawan Byo-Fo," a booming voice then echoed from behind the young couple, immediately drawing their attention to its owner, a tall and grizzled-looking Human with thick, braided hair that was drawn upwards into an imposing warrior's knot.

Byo-Fo stiffened, a lot of his pleasant veneer taken away by the thickset master now approaching them both, whose visage wore a dark and serious expression, made all the grimmer by the salt-and-pepper beard that sprung from his chiselled features. The man, quite clearly, was an experienced and capable warrior - an image that was completed by the saberstaff hilt swaying from his multi-layered and antiquated Jedi robes.

"Your master was seeking you in the fountain room," the man said, now looming over them both. "I suggest you attend to him at once."

"Yes, master," Byo-Fo said with a respectful bow to his formidable superior. He turned and politely added with a warm, though more controlled smile to Amare, "This is Master Ven Kel Farr. Please excuse me. It was a joy to meet you."

Amare, satisfied that she so easily had acquired Byo-Fo's trust within her grasp, did not permit her gaze to dwell long upon the padawan's departure before settling upon Master Farr's heavy scrutiny.

"And you," Master Farr intoned, twisting his singular face towards Amare, "I am not familiar with you, young one?"

The shadow that loomed with the silhouette of innocence within the light could feel the crushing weight of Farr's piercing stare of judgment. Such were the man's eyes that they could have been as intimidating as armed proton torpedoes if they had propulsion systems attached to them.

"Zara Wolph," Amare answered with a bow of her own mimicking Byo-Fo's, knowing it was a risk using her former legal name, but also knowing that a measure of truth was less of a risk than using more of her power to conceal a lie. "I'm a padawan like Byo-Fo. I come from an enclave in the Outer Rim near the Alliance. I...I've come here seeking wisdom to prepare for my trials to become a Jedi Knight, but this Temple is so vast and magnificent. I feel so lost in this place. Can you help you me, master?"

Maintaining her "veil" was already a taxing exercise in self-control with the very careful application of the Force that moved within her, especially since she didn't allow her Coda personality to do the driving this time as opposed to her tactics on Sleheyron. It was made even more difficult that she had never used her form of Force alignment masking around anyone before outside of very short practice sessions with Thane on the Red Raptor. With the guidance of Darth Bane's holocron, and only minimal training--as usual--her Caanan master had assured her that she was ready, but until she arrived by speeder at the Reborn Jedi Temple and had encountered Byo-Fo who caught her wandering the halls, she had no idea just how prepared she really was. Tricking an inexperienced and gullible padawan was one challenge unto itself, but with an actual Jedi Master staring her down surrounded by many other Knights researching in the Archives, she was about to find out, for better or worse, just how capable a liar she really was. If she failed, however, it would guarantee swift capture or an ignoble death.

Farr glared at the faux padawan for a few more long moments. His mien seemed one of suspicion, but that was perhaps the nature of the gruff man's character, given his battle-worn appearance and combat-ready garb. He placed both of his large hands on his hips, and a slight sensation of a Force-ly invasion became apparent to the undercover Sith apprentice, as Farr gently stretched out towards this curious would-be Knight.

"Rimward enclaves are a rarity in this day and age, Padawan Wolph," the Jedi Master finally said, withdrawing from his efforts to now physically try examining the data Amare was examining. With a jut of his scarred chin, he asked, "What is it you are specifically studying? These Archives are vast and our shared knowledge deep, accumulated over generations of Jedi restoration. It is no simple thing to just ask for help."

"Holocrons," Amare answered without hesitation, her cover story -- the same used to secure entry to the Temple after direct communication with the Chief Archivist -- coming into play. The truth was a warm friend, far more comforting than lies and misdirection, and was a most welcome and devious companion for her when applied with guile and subversive intent. "In particular, this one," she added as she opened her left palm to reveal a small silver disk about a quarter the diameter of her hand. It projected a monochrome holographic image of what appeared to be a standard cube-shaped Jedi holocron, but with a very non-standard bisecting twist.

"Based on what little we could tell from the ancient Tionese engravings you can see here along the edges of the outer shell," Amare explained, "we think it once belonged to an ancient Jedi named Esuna Tizer. We located it three months in the possession of a Givin antiques peddler on the planet Sheva. It took over a month to verify its authenticity in its current brittle condition."

The image of the holocron Amare displayed for Master Farr had a long, uneven crystal shard pierced through the center of the artifact at a sharp angle, as if someone or something stabbed at the device with considerable violent force.

What made describing it to Farr, however, was bittersweet as it was among the first bits of decrypted data G2 helped Amare decipher from the files of Rift Master Dakris Nakomo taken from the Silver Sigil shortly before that ship was detonated on Yavin IV at Thane's command. The "Tizer Legacy" was the holocron's Rift Jedi codename, and finding it was a high priority for them. The holocron image was over two thousand years old, and it was believed to have either collapsed beyond repair after so much time, but still valuable enough to pursue and acquire if it indeed still existed in relatively one piece. The Rift weren't interested in who Tizer was, but there was apparently knowledge they wanted very badly, in spite of the fact that the Jedi of the Old Republic had no interest in its recovery. Nakomo, unfortunately, had failed to elaborate on what that knowledge was, but he did find it odd that Rift Commander Zam Kessar wanted the holocron in spite of confessing having no knowledge of what was on it.

"We're not sure why that crystal is in there," Amare elaborated to the stout Reborn Master, "but it has damaged the holocron to some degree. We think its knowledge can be salvaged; the memory matrix still mostly intact aside from some internal cracks. I was sent to compare its composition with other known holocrons to help figure out how we can repair it without breaking it completely. Whatever is in there, it could be the find of a lifetime, or just more of what we already know. Still, we think it's worth pursuing, don't you agree, master?"

Master Farr had listened with rapt interest, a thick calloused finger now running through his wiry silver-black beard as he thought on what the young woman had told him. He nodded sagely, looking entirely convinced.

"The pursuit of holocrons is always a worthy endeavour, whether it be to unlock the virtuous mysteries of the ancient Jedi simulacrum, or to prevent the horrors of the dark side from ever seizing our numbers and the galaxy again," the Human said with some satisfaction, perfectly towing the Reborn Jedi party line. They were, of course, renowned for their pursuit of any dark side relics - and for, by and large, destroying them without further thought.

The Telos Holocron, Lord Serus believed, was an exception, given the unique status of that particular heirloom.

Farr turned towards a nearby Mikkian woman, who was just a little older than Amare, looking to be close to Thane and Bomoor's ages - a compatriot, perhaps - and called her over.

"Jedi Knight Illyvar," he said, hand outstretched to her. "Your study of the Bindo saga must be delayed; your knowledge and skill-set is required by this young acolyte." Farr's steely gaze moved back to Amare. Whilst he was apparently convinced, there was still an intensity to the way he regarded the Sith woman. "Illyvar trained under Master Garth Medion, one of the Order's most renowned Shadows. She has a near-encyclopaedic knowledge of our holocron catalogue, as well as those unaccounted for. What she has not divined about these remarkable objects, it is probably not worth knowing."

He nodded as Illyvar arrived, although the older woman looked anything but impressed at being pressed into assisting this unfamiliar figure. "Illyvar, Padawan Wolph is in pursuit of a missing holocron of the First Republic," Farr explained in his deep voice. "Lend her every assistance; I know you are knowledgeable and keen. Be sure that she also learns to appreciate adherence to our codes regarding such mystic knowledge, mind." His eyes wandered back to Amare and narrowed slightly. "Young padawans require stalwart knights such as yourself to save from errant endeavours. Good hunting, my friends."

The Mikkian’s purple head tendrils cut through the air as though flowing through a viscous liquid as she inclined her gaze slightly towards the Sith in disguise, “Of course, Master Farr,” she answered, while keeping her focus on Amare, “Sharing wisdom is one of the cornerstones of the Order and I will do all I can to further that goal.”

As the master moved away, Illyvar drew close to the archive terminal, wordlessly ushering Amare aside as she looked at the screen. Her pale rosy eyes darted about the screen for a few moments before she turned back, “I take it you’re not used to searching the archives. These search terms are far too broad.”

She straightened up, “Padawan… Wolph, was it? What enclave were you from again?”

The question had sounded like a distant echo as Amare suddenly found herself caught in a wave of guilt as she let her eyes fall away from Illyvar. She heard a little Nautolan girl's voice cry out to her again...

Please don't go, Amare. Please! Don't leave me alone...

"I'm...sorry Maia..." Amare breathed in a forlorn whisper, unaware she had been distracted by the painful post-Sleheyron memory, the traumatic memory creeping up on her when she least expected it. She hadn't realized Illyvar was staring at her with a quizzical gaze having clearly heard the whisper.

"Speak sense, padawan," Illyvar rubbed her temple with frustration.

"Oh! I'm sorry," Amare said with embarrassment. "I, um...haven't slept well in weeks. Forgive me, my thoughts tend to wander when I'm tired. I'm from here..."

Amare ran her index finger in a clockwise gesture over her holo-emitter to change the image to an Outer Rim star cluster with a small blinking red dot indicating the enclave's location.

"It's been a long journey to come all this way," Amare added pretending to stifle a yawn, and then with a soft giggle and a warm smile, "I'll try not to fall asleep in the library while I'm here."

The Mikkian woman let out a sigh and looked over her shoulder, indicating she would rather get on with her own matters than deal with this self-amused young Nautolan, "If you cannot concentrate, then you will never find what you seek. Now, you wanted something from the holocron catalogue."

She leant over and tapped in a reference she clearly knew off by heart, demonstrating her may hours of research into this area, "Here is a list of all holocrons currently known to the Order, both those from the various Jedi Orders and those from the more misguided Force organisations. You will see that almost all of the heretical artefacts have been recovered and destroyed by the Reborn Order, mostly thanks to our dedicated Shadows. Take a look and see if what you want is on that list."

Standing up again, Illyvar pulled out a datapad and resumed her own reading. She added casually, "Ask me any questions about them and I'll probably have an answer for you."

"Yes, of course, thank you for your patience," Amare said politely. It was just in that moment that she felt a very subtle nudge at the base of her skull, right where the lowest set of her head tendrils had grown from. As she raised a hand to reach back there to feel what was amiss, her instinct turn her head about to glance over shoulder. What she saw made her large solid black eyes widen a bit with disbelief.

TBC

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