It was late that evening as the team trudged down yet another hallway. Vythia seemed as tireless as ever, but Wrecker wasn't sure how. They'd wandered around the second floor for hours, and then moved onto the third, and still they hadn't found a single artifact. Really, they hadn't found much of anything. After hearing Vythia talk about Trayus, Wrecker had expected there to be a lot of artifacts and furniture and stone people around, but they'd only found three statues, all standing together in one hallway. Their faces and postures had been so calm that they looked posed – in fact, at first Tech had wondered if they had ever been alive. Quinlan had touched one and instantly said yeah, they'd been alive, all right, but they sure as heck weren't anymore.
As they turned into another corridor – which had white lanterns, not green – Wrecker wondered where exactly that bounty hunter guy had found the artifacts he'd sold to Vythia. Maybe Wrecker's team just hadn't entered the right rooms. Yeah, that's probably it. We've been skipping most of them.
Vythia, a few steps ahead of him, paused to observe a side-corridor, and Wrecker slouched against the nearest wall to glance at his chrono. It was only twenty-one oh four, but he felt as tired as though it were much later. Probably because he'd been up since oh-two hundred or whatever . . .
As if reading his thoughts, Hunter said, "Vythia. How much longer we going to keep at this?"
She cast a sideways look back at the team. "You are already tired?"
"It's late," said Hunter shortly.
"I suppose it is. Well. Once we reach the center, we can rest for a while."
"No!"
Everyone turned to Quinlan at once, probably surprised by his outburst. Wrecker frowned. The Jedi didn't look very well. He'd gotten this pinched look in his face, back when he stopped to talk with Hunter in the academy center, and it hadn't improved much since then.
"Quinlan?" Vythia raised a questioning eyebrow. "You . . . want to continue?"
"No," he said again, more quietly this time. "I just – I think we should return to the ships until the morning."
Tech stepped forward, lifting a finger. "I would also advise that we do so. We may not have come across any enemies so far, but neither do we have a guarantee that there are none."
"Yeah." Hunter shifted his gun from one hand to the other. "We'll have to set someone on watch even on the ship – we are not staying here."
Vythia glanced hesitantly at the next doorway, then shrugged. "Very well. We will check the center of this level, then return to our shuttles for the night."
"All of us," Quinlan checked.
"Of course." Vythia raised an eyebrow. "I may be . . . more than intrigued . . . by Trayus Academy, but I am not foolish enough to stay here alone."
"Okay," said Hunter. "We're pretty close to the center, right?"
"Very close."
"Let's get there and look around, and then we're headed out. It'll take us a good twenty minutes to get back to the main doors as it is."
"All right." She headed briskly towards the end of the corridor, and the others fell in behind her.
"Wonder what's so great about the center," Wrecker muttered to Tech.
Tech only hummed in response and continued to look at his datapad. Sometimes Wrecker had to wonder how much of his surroundings Tech actually saw, and how much of them he viewed as schematics.
"I dunno," said Vos in a dull tone. "Probably the fact that it's the heart of the building or something like that."
"Precisely," replied Vythia, without looking back.
The Jedi gave a little start, as though he hadn't expected her to hear him. "Wait, what?"
"The center is important because it is the heart of the building. In other structures, such as Lothal's temple, the shrine itself would be the heart of the building - the vault, perhaps. But here . . ."
She trailed off, holding out a hand to stop the others.
Wrecker peered over her shoulder at the shadows far ahead of them. He thought he caught sight of something moving, but he couldn't be sure. He brought his rifle to ready position. "Tech?"
"I am not seeing anything on scans," Tech answered, sounding irked. "Hm. That has become an uncommonly regular occurrence these past few days."
Crosshair, who hadn't spoken in some time, said, "I thought I saw something move."
"Same here," muttered Wrecker. He edged past Vythia and into the darker area of the hall. "Anyone got a light?"
"Wait, Wrecker!" Hunter snapped. "There's –"
Crosshair whipped his rifle up and fired.
An all-too-familiar croaking yell bounced off the ceiling and made everyone flinch.
Wrecker groaned as a dead stormbeast flopped heavily across the hall ten meters ahead. "Aw, come on, Cross – I could'a taken that one!"
"Move faster next time."
"I didn't even see him!" Wrecker protested, turning to face him.
"No surprise there."
Quinlan winced and gave his head a sharp shake. "Would you guys stop with the constant banter?"
Crosshair shrugged and wandered forward. Vythia didn't seem to notice anything strange about Quinlan's behavior, but Hunter gave the Jedi a careful look before following, and Wrecker thought it was kind of funny that he was being so grouchy all of a sudden. Of course, Wrecker and all his team mates got grouchy when they weren't feeling well. Maybe keeping his shields up, along with everything else that was going on, was making Quinlan tired.
Hunter passed him, glancing down at the corpse as he stepped over it. "I hate stormbeasts," he commented.
"I do not particularly like them, myself," said Vythia. "I suppose there will be more close by. They seem to move in packs."
"Herds," said Tech.
Wrecker rolled his eyes – he'd had to listen to this one before – and followed Hunter.
Behind him, Vythia said, "Why 'herds'?"
"Because, as far as my observations indicate, stormbeasts have a herd mentality."
Wrecker let out a loud sigh. "Yeah, whatever. So they move in groups! Herd, pack, same thing!"
Tech sniffed. "They are not the same thing, Wrecker, as you know perfectly well. And it was Vythia who asked the question."
"I am interested," Vythia said, and she actually sounded interested.
Hunter elbowed Wrecker in the ribs. "Let 'em talk," he muttered. "Stay focused."
"Fine," grumbled Wrecker, and directed his attention to the dark doorways that were spaced every few meters down the hall.
Tech, meanwhile, continued his explanation to Vythia. "Packs of animals have strict hierarchies. The leader decides on the goals, and the others obey. With many animals such as loth wolves, for example, it is nearly always the case that the leader not only decides on the goals, but assigns specific jobs to each of the other members of the pack in order to accomplish that goal."
"Like us," said Crosshair dryly.
"Not quite." Tech, as usual, took comments completely in stride. "We frequently make alternate suggestions, or argue with Hunter's decisions."
"You're tellin' me." Hunter sounded amused.
"With loth wolves and other similar animals, however, the leader quite literally calls all the –"
Hunter stiffened and glanced a bit to the left, and Wrecker fired in that direction before really noticing the hulking figure that limped towards them. Everyone fell silent as another stormbeast collapsed across the path.
"These stormbeasts aren't as aggressive as the others," Hunter noted.
"Perhaps they are not as hungry," Tech said, hopping over the dead creature. "If they subsist on the dark side, and there is a significantly higher concentration of dark side energy here . . ."
Hunter nodded. "Yeah. That makes sense."
Tech dismissed the topic with a wave of his hand – which meant he was satisfied with the theory – and turned back to Vythia. "As for animals who move in herds, they tend to always pursue the same goals, but not necessarily common goals. They will all eat, for example, but they do not work together to accomplish that. They will all flee when approached by a predator, and flee together, but only because they are instinctively aware that there is safety in numbers."
Quinlan let out a wry laugh. "Like a mob. Mobs have herd mentality."
"Precisely." Tech, still looking down at his datapad, didn't seem to realize that they'd reached the end of the hallway.
Hunter put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. "We're at the center. Wait up."
Vythia slipped past Wrecker. "There should be more lights . . ."
"Right here," said Crosshair, who had moved off to the left. He activated the lantern, and the sudden blaze of white light from the central pillar made everyone jump, even though the pillars in the last two central rooms had lit up in exactly the same way.
Four stormbeasts lurked on the opposite side of the room. Wrecker switched off the safety on his rifle. One of the monsters screamed, and Quinlan ducked his head, clapping his hands over his ears as the four stormbeasts slowly approached. The creatures moved so slowly, though, that Hunter and Wrecker managed to kill all four before they'd gotten halfway across the room. Crosshair didn't even bother to even lift his rifle.
"Huh, these guys are slow," said Hunter. "Do they seem – different – to anyone else?"
"If by 'different' you mean 'slow and sickly', then yes they do." Tech crossed the room and dropped to one knee beside the nearest corpse to examine it. "Compared to those we saw in Adas Academy, these stormbeasts are smaller, have less muscle mass, slower response times, and . . ." He tapped a button on his vambrace and a low-volume recording of a stormbeast's scream played. ". . . their screams have nowhere near the volume or intensity."
"So – what?" asked Crosshair, sounding bored and tired. "We don't have to worry about getting knocked out by them?"
"I cannot be absolutely certain, but I imagine we do not."
"Despite the higher concentration of dark side energy?" Quinlan muttered. "They're weaker despite that?"
"Well . . ." Tech frowned. "Yes. That is strange."
"The 'why' doesn't really concern me," said Hunter, glancing to either side. "We're at the center. See any artifacts?"
Wrecker turned his attention to the room itself and promptly let out a huff of disappointment. It was mostly empty . . . just like nearly every other room they'd looked into so far. But there were twenty alcoves set into the opposite wall, each containing a statue that was about a meter in height. None of them were exactly alike – each was of a man or a woman of a different species – but all of them wore a familiar headpiece.
Wrecker and Hunter exchanged glances, then looked at Vythia.
Tech and Crosshair were already eyeing her gold headpiece with open curiosity. Quinlan followed their gazes warily.
"Hey, Vythia," said Wrecker, gesturing to the statues. "Why've they all got the exact same headpiece you've got?"
"I do not know." She smiled and touched one of the golden chains that were draped over her head-tails. "Have you ever heard of Sith amulets?"
"No," said Hunter warily. "Should we have?"
"Not necessarily. They are uncommon, and have different properties, depending on those by whom they were made. The most frequently bought and sold among students of ancient cultures are those that allow one to read the Sith language."
Quinlan, who stood a little behind Vythia, was watching her with what looked like surprise and concern – almost as though he didn't believe her. Wrecker glanced curiously at him.
"You . . ." Tech took a step closer. "Anyone could wear that, then, and be able to read Sith?"
"Yes." She tilted her head from one side to the other and narrowed her large eyes. "It would be more accurate to say that one can understand Sith text and language when one sees it."
"Those scrolls you told us about," said Hunter. "The ones you read about the stormbeasts – that's how you were able to read them."
She nodded. 'I am capable of reading a little, even without aid, but wearing the amulet makes it far easier to understand the exact meaning of the runes or words, even those of Ancient Sith."
Tech, who had been eyeing the headpiece with obvious interest, blinked. "Vythia, where did you learn to read Sith? It is reported, as far as I can discover, to be a dead language."
"A dead language?" She smiled a little. "I wouldn't say that. There are still those who know it, and read it . . . and even speak it."
"What for?" Crosshair demanded, his gaze flitting about the room. "Why would anyone want to speak a dead language?"
"Why not?" Vythia paused beside a statue of a female Twi'lek. "I wonder who these people were, and why all of them have identical headpieces, and how the amulets were designed in the first place . . . I suppose these statues were built in memory of the great Sith jewelers at some particular point in the history of Trayus."
"Sounds about right," Crosshair remarked in disinterest.
Vythia did not seem to notice his tone. She moved to the next statue – a male Nautolan, and narrowed her eyes curiously. "I wish we had more time to learn about everyone who lived here."
"Well, we don't." Hunter glanced at his chronometer. "At least, not right now. Doesn't look like there are any artifacts around here."
"There – there is one," said Quinlan in a quiet voice. "I think it's near the pillar."
"Oh?" Vythia swiftly crossed the room to stand before the central pillar, which blazed with colorless fire.
Wrecker followed and stopped beside her, surprised when he felt no heat whatsoever from the flames, despite how close he was standing. "Huh. That's weird."
Vythia only raised a sympathetic eyebrow at him before beginning to pace a slow circle around the pillar, her eyes fixed on the base where it met the floor. "Any further guidance you can offer, Quinlan?"
"I think . . . I don't know." The Jedi had hunched his shoulders and was folding his arms, wearing a pained grimace.
Wrecker pushed his helmet back on his head. "You okay?"
Quinlan straightened and glowered a little, his eyes flickering to Vythia, who was still examining the floor. "Yeah, of course."
Hunter and Tech also gave Wrecker warning looks, and he shrugged back. He didn't get what the problem was – there was no reason for Vythia to suspect anything about Quinlan being a Jedi just because he had a headache or whatever, was there?
"Near the pillar," Vythia repeated, coming to a halt beside Wrecker. "Near the – hm, what about in the pillar?"
"I dunno." Wrecker eyed the flames, then reached out cautiously and brushed a finger through the edge of one. "Hey, doesn't feel hot at all!"
"Strange," she commented.
"Yeah, no kidding." Wrecker held his hand against the flame – which wasn't a flame at all – and said, "Tech, I can't see through all the light. Can you find an opening or a shelf or something?"
"I can certainly attempt it." Tech joined him at a trot and started a scan on his datapad. "Ah! There is – yes, there is a shelf set into the pillar."
He pointed up, and Wrecker jabbed a hand right through the flames, which didn't burn him in the slightest. Closing his fingers over a small object, he withdrew his hand. A delicate black chain, connected to a small, polished stone. "Huh. A necklace?"
"Indeed," said Vythia, sounding mildly interested. She studied the necklace for a moment before reaching to take the little stone between two fingers and turn it this way and that. "No rune, either. Hm. I have very little idea what this is meant to do – if it is meant to do anything at all . . ."
"Not valuable?" Wrecker asked.
"I do not know. If the Jedi missed it on their – rampage – through the lower levels of the academy, it is most likely of little value. Still, it is the first artifact we have discovered here." Vythia smiled and put it into her satchel. "And Quinlan would not be able to sense it if it were merely a common artifact."
"Right," said Crosshair, flicking away a toothpick so he could put his helmet back on. "Because that makes sense."
Quinlan exhaled loudly. "Listen, Crosshair – half the time, psychometry doesn't even make sense to us psychometrics."
Vythia stopped mid-step, tilting her head to one side with a faint smile as Quinlan followed Hunter out of the room.
Wrecker cleared his throat. "Hey, Vythia. What's up?"
"An excellent question, Wrecker. Come. Let us return to the ships."
Quinlan trailed down the stone stairway and across the landing that led into the second level, then started down the final flight of steps. The part of his mind that was still focused on his surroundings was telling him to pay more attention. So far, the team had come across only a few sickly stormbeasts, but there might still be other creatures around.
The second, and stronger, part of his mind, though, didn't care in the least about his surroundings or stormbeasts or anything else. All Quinlan wanted to do was to get out of this cursed academy and back to the Marauder before his shields failed completely.
Keeping one hand on the railing, he stepped carefully into the central room and cast a quick look around. When the headache he'd had all afternoon grew marginally worse, he hoped for a moment that he was imagining it – but only for a moment. That sudden, blinding headache he'd suffered earlier had not been a normal headache, and he wasn't stupid enough to hope or pretend it had been. There was something in the center of this level, or close to it, that was causing it.
No one else seemed to be adversely affected, so it was probably some Force-related thing . . . which meant something that only he could feel, or perceive. Again. Blast it.
Tech said something, which he didn't hear, and Crosshair responded in a sarcastic tone that grated on Quinlan's nerves. After a moment's reflection, he decided it would be in everyone's best interests for him to keep his mouth shut.
Letting Hunter take the lead, he paid strict attention to his surroundings and to what he was feeling. They had left the center and moved perhaps a hundred meters down the main corridor when his headache suddenly began to fade. It faded more as they left the academy and headed for the shuttles, but did not disappear. And his strange lethargy did not disappear either.
Oh, tomorrow's going to be so much fun, he groused. He knew perfectly well he was letting himself get annoyed over something he could not change, but he just didn't care. It was either gripe and complain to himself, or think about what it was in the Trayus center that was affecting him so much.
He thought about it anyway. Why'd it come on so suddenly? It was like we activated something – some anti-Force-user defense, or maybe some device or other designed to attack Jedi and drain their energy . . .
Ahead of him, Tech opened the Marauder's boarding ramp, and Quinlan blinked, glancing quickly over one shoulder. Vythia had already disappeared into the Phoenix, and he wondered just how long he'd been spacing out. Hopefully she hadn't actually spoken to him . . . He knew she was already suspicious.
And if he didn't start paying attention, she'd guess, very quickly, as to his true identity. There wasn't a whole lot he knew about Vythia Archane, but she was smart. And, based on comments she'd made, she had studied both the Sith and Jedi.
Quinlan followed Wrecker up the ramp and hesitated. The others split off, Hunter and Tech headed into the cockpit and Crosshair and Wrecker into the cargo hold. Quinlan wandered into the galley and sat down, leaning back against the wall. Okay. Get your head in the game, Vos. A lousy headache had better not be what makes you fail this mission.
He must have dozed off for a minute, because the light touch on the arm made him jump and twist around to face whoever it was.
Crosshair gazed back, raising an unapologetic eyebrow.
Quinlan slumped back in his seat. "What do you want."
"Just checking. You looked like you did on the roof this morning."
". . . the roof?"
Crosshair slouched onto the bench across from him and set to work disassembling his rifle. "Yeah. When you went into a trance and Hunter had to knock you a good one."
"Oh, that." He rubbed his forehead. "Thanks, but I have no intention of entering a trance. I'm just – tired."
"So get some sleep."
"Who's on first watch?"
Crosshair shrugged. "Didn't ask."
Quinlan rolled his eyes and got up. "Then I'm gonna check in with Hunter."
He'd only just entered the short hall when Hunter and Tech emerged.
"Ship's locked down," Hunter reported. "I figure one person on guard will be sufficient for tonight. Anything we should know, Quinlan?"
Quinlan hesitated, a bit surprised at the realization that he'd had no intention of mentioning his ideas about the center to the others. "Yeah. Yeah, there is."
"Tell us over dinner," Wrecker suggested, joining them.
"We already ate," Quinlan said.
"Yeah, hours ago. I'm starved!"
Tech rolled his eyes and slipped past into the galley. "You are always 'starved'."
Wrecker set a pile of ration packs down hard, almost on top of Crosshair's rifle barrel, which he then pretended to sweep off the table. Crosshair hastily snatched it out of the way, reassembled his weapon, and leaned it carefully in the corner.
When the commandos were eating, and Quinlan was occupied with stirring his stew around and around, Wrecker said, "Vythia was watching you again, Vos. After you found the necklace."
Quinlan scooped up something that looked like a tuber and let it fall back into the container as he considered the necklace – which had almost no presence in the Force apart from a dark shadow.
Hunter was watching him questioningly.
Quinlan sighed and shoved his container back. "I was an idiot about that necklace, Hunter. I don't think a mere psychometric would have sensed its presence. In terms of Force-energy, it's all but worthless."
Tech straightened. "Then why was hidden behind that fire?"
"Who knows. Maybe it had sentimental value for some first-year apprentice and he didn't want the Jedi to find it . . . I don't know. But I should never have mentioned it!"
Hunter glanced up at his sudden outburst. "Vythia won't know the difference, will she?"
Quinlan stared uncomprehendingly for an instant, then shook his head. "No. There were no runes or markings indicating its power. And she basically said she thought it was powerful, because I sensed it."
"Then what's the problem?"
"Yeah," Wrecker said, elbowing him. "You're acting kinda weird."
"The problem is that we're lucky Vythia can't tell the difference because that was literally the dumbest mistake I could have made, and I made it. And I didn't even notice I'd made it until Wrecker mentioned the necklace."
Crosshair eyed him. "You're distracted."
Quinlan pulled his container back to his place and took a reluctant bite. "Thank you, Crosshair. I couldn't tell."
"Glad to help."
Tech dealt Crosshair a sharp kick beneath the table.
Despite his continuing worry over what the next day would bring, Quinlan couldn't help a quick smirk at the betrayed look the sniper sent Tech.
"Cut it out," said Hunter automatically.
Wrecker, who had already finished eating, said, "How much longer you think Vythia's going to have us exploring that place?"
"I don't know," Hunter answered. "But I figure she'll want to go through the whole thing, all the way to the top."
"She will want to," Quinlan said. "And I don't think we should let her."
The four commandos watched him, waiting for him to continue.
"There's something there, Hunter, in or near the center of the first level – I think it's what caused that headache."
"Headache?" Tech asked. "Is that why you fell behind? Do you have any idea what specifically caused it?"
"Yes and yes, and no, I've got no idea. All I know is, the farther we went from the center, the better I felt."
Hunter nodded. "So we avoid the center as much as possible? Or . . . I suppose we could leave you on the Marauder tomorrow and call you in only if we need backup."
"Absolutely not," Quinlan muttered, jabbing his spoon back into the stew. He shoved the container away again, unable to make himself eat. "I'm almost sure we aren't going to get through the academy without being attacked or hindered in some way. The statues in Lothal were bad enough. Anything in Trayus will be a lot worse."
Hunter looked as though he were about to say something, but then he glanced uncertainly down.
Crosshair tilted his head. "I thought we were trying to hide the fact that you're a Jedi."
"We were, and we are. And we'll continue to do so if we can. But if it's a choice between revealing my abilities and dying, I mean . . . seriously. Easy choice."
Hunter gave a hesitant nod.
"Okay, glad we agree." Quinlan rubbed a hand tiredly across his eyes. "So what's with the uncertainty?"
"You've been shielding yourself to keep from being affected by the dark," Hunter said. "From what I've gathered, that means you can't . . . use the Force. Right?"
"Right. Not while I'm fully shielded – not that I've been, for a couple of days at least."
"But you could release your shields if you had to?" Hunter asked.
"Yeah . . . If it comes down to it, I'd have to drop my shields and just draw on the dark side."
"Why would that be a problem?"
Quinlan blinked at him and thought for a moment. "Hunter, when my head doesn't feel like it's full of sand, I'll give you the long answer. The very short and incomplete answer is that being frequently exposed to corrupted Force energy has been known to make Jedi turn dark."
Tech lifted a finger. "I always thought that turning dark was a choice."
"It is." Quinlan got wearily to his feet. "It's always a choice, Tech . . . but you'd never put salt water near a thirsty person, would you, even if there was no other water? Taking a drink might be done without thought – it's water, right? But the results just make that guy more thirsty. Do it again, and he might be more cautious at first, but eventually he'd take another drink. Then he'd get more thirsty – and more – and eventually he'd get desperate and drink enough that it kills him."
Wrecker was eyeing him worriedly.
Quinlan gave him a half-hearted smile. "Not that using the dark would physically kill me. I could use it without harming myself. But using it would get easier and easier, and I've done enough wrong without even using the dark –"
Quinlan reached for the yellow lightsaber crystal and fidgeted with it, uncomfortable at the thought of the nearly unlimited, intangible power that floated at his fingertips. If he had enough time, he knew he could tear apart Trayus Academy single-handedly, stone by stone. He had the ability – would have it even on a normal planet. Here? Here, destroying a place like the academy would be ten times easier than anywhere else.
Hunter got to his feet and glanced around at them all. "Who wants first watch?"
"I'll take it," drawled Crosshair, reaching for his rifle. "Who do I smack awake after?"
"Me," Wrecker said, then frowned. "Hey!"
Hunter raised an eyebrow. "You wake Wrecker for second watch without causing grief, because if those of us who are trying to sleep get woken by you idiots, I'm going to make your lives miserable. Got it?"
"Got it," said Wrecker cheerfully.
Crosshair smirked. "Understood."
