Greetings my rabid readers! What a wonderful Wednesday for another PotDS Chapter! R&R!
Chapter Thirty Four
Accusations
Hermione was starting to feel the strain of her classes about two weeks into the second term. No matter how much extra time she funneled into her workload, she seemed to keep coming up short, and had to skip meals and time to sleep to make up the difference. Adding to that her project from Harry to develop a new piece of magi-technology, she was feeling rather overworked.
Not that she was allowing anyone else to see the effects of her strain mind, but she had a sinking feeling that Harry could tell every time he glanced at her during the classes that Ravenclaw shared with Slytherin. She on the other hand, couldn't understand how the boy was keeping pace with her, not only in schoolwork, but also the Quidditch practice and other activities that the boy was involved with. And yet, Harry seemed to be under no effects of exhaustion at all. She was starting to wonder if the boy was just more gifted than she was, or possibly was having other, more devious, means of keeping up with the workload.
Not that she wanted to think badly of the green-eyed boy, she had learned that that line of thought wouldn't amount to much where Harry was involved, but it still concerned her how he was managing his schedule. She was tempted to just ask, perhaps he would have useful advice, but at the same time she felt off about admitting that it was becoming too much for her to handle. She was the brightest witch at Hogwarts, for her to fail at this would be very detrimental to what people thought of her, especially the professors.
So, Hermione stretched herself, pouring herself into notes and books every night for as long as she could keep her eyes open, and avidly avoiding anyone during her study periods.
Near the end of January, Hermione was in the library, surrounded on three sides by piles of books and notes, scrambling to finish her three massive essays for the following day, when a voice softly coughed next to her. Whirling, she was about to snap at the person for interrupting her, but froze when she saw Harry peering over her books and smirking at her.
"Well," he said softly, glancing at her pile of papers that she had be furiously scribbling over, "how are you carrying on?"
For a moment, Hermione was unsure if he was asking her how she was, or how she was managing to stay ahead of her workload, but she shook her head to knock a bit of sleep from clouding her mind, "I'm good," she said quickly, "just trying to get the last of today's work done," she turned back and continued writing for a bit, only pausing when she noticed that the boy was still watching her, a bemused smile on his face. "Can I help you with something?" she asked, growing slightly annoyed, even by his presence.
"Oh, no, nothing important at least," he said seriously, "I'm just wondering when you're going to realize that even by dropping a pointless class or two, like muggle studies or divination, you are still head and shoulders above the rest of the school, and that killing yourself to prove a point is a rather wasteful course of action…"
"You seem to have no trouble doing it…" she retorted, glaring at Harry, who merely chuckled.
"Well, there's a simple difference as to why I am able to handle the workload and you are struggling…" he said, and Hermione braced herself for the boy to go off about how much smarter than her he was. The response therefore shocked her, "I merely give the professors only slightly more than they asked for, instead of far over and beyond their wants."
"You… I… what?" she stammered, her attention completely diverted from the papers before her.
Harry nodded, pulling over a seat to place himself beside Hermione. Taking up an essay for Arithmancy, Harry continued, "Take this for example. Professor Vector asked for two rolls of parchment about the properties of multiplicities, but look," he indicated her parchment, which was already over four rolls long, "not only are you well over double the amount requested, but your handwriting is half the normal students' size. You're pouring way too much energy into just one essay, which could have been finished already. How long have you been working on this one?"
Hermione looked down nervously, "Three days," she admitted.
"Three days that could have been devoted to other essays and projects." Harry summarized, "However, I do not fault you for being as thorough as I would be, for that is what makes you so brilliant at what you do. Again, I suggest you drop the subjects that are unnecessary, before your need for complete understanding consumes you… there will be time and to spare in the future if you desire to return to these subjects, but the choice is yours naturally…"
And with nothing more, Harry rose and departed, leaving Hermione with an over finished essay and a lot of extra thoughts on her mind. Scratching off an acceptable ending for the Arithmancy assignment and quickly moving on, she mused over what Harry had calmly offered. There may be merit in some of what he had said, and it definitely made sense that she over prepared many, if not all, her essays, but at the same time she was unsure if cutting back what she turned in was better or worse than dropping classes altogether.
For the time being, she was content to use his advice to catch up on her work, and she continued with her work, shortening her answers and being as precise as possible without going overwhelmingly beyond the requested page limit. She didn't enlarge her handwriting however, as she felt that was far beyond necessary. Hermione had always written that small, and there was little need to change that part of her just to make more time for her to live outside of her books and paper.
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Veneficus reveled with the newfound attention from the rest of the school; his actions not only during the Quidditch match but back at the Malfoy's Yule gathering had made quite the stir in wizarding society. It amused the Sith Lord, at how easy it was to manipulate the general populace of the wizarding world, aside from a specific few.
There were exceptions, naturally, many of the Hufflepuff students were wary of him, along with the Gryffindors. These students were relatively immune to his charm, merely because of the green he wore on his robes. A petty reason, but one that was most foolish, and could inevitably lead to many of their deaths in the end, but it was of little consequence to Veneficus. With what he had planned, there would always be more wizards to serve him, even if these rebelled.
Dumbledore had also increased his scrutiny of the Sith Lord, which limited Veneficus' ability to move about the school at will. The pet werewolf, Lupin, was very persistent in his attempts to keep tabs on the Sith's whereabouts, especially on weekends. Regardless, there was still much that Veneficus could do through minions, Creevey most especially, that went unnoticed while all focus remained on Veneficus.
Thankfully, patience was a virtue that the Sith had in abundance at the moment, and while his servants did his bidding, Veneficus found himself spending much time in remote places of the castle. Currently he was upon the Astronomy Tower, gazing out towards the village and the Dementors that floated around the boarders of the grounds.
The rest of the school was currently at the pitch again, watching Gryffindor's final struggle against Ravenclaw, not that it mattered. The point margin that Veneficus had gained had more than secured first place for both cups.
As the Lord of the Sith observed the weaving darkness and the tiny voids that made up the Dementors, he felt a presence approach up the stairs. Gritting his teeth momentarily, Veneficus recognized Lupin long before the werewolf mounted the stairs and drew within sight.
"Hello, Harry," he said semi-casually, crossing to stand nearby, "Not down at the pitch with your classmates?"
Veneficus chose to say nothing, the answer was too apparent and the man's attempts at conversation were pitiful. For once, the werewolf seemed to realize that Veneficus was refusing to answer. "I'm sorry," he said slowly, turning to look in the direction that the Sith was facing, "there seems to be a lot that is trying to repress you from what you feel are your rights as a student here."
Veneficus felt his eyes flash slightly as his anger spiked. Shutting them quickly, the Sith focused on breathing and storing away his anger for the right moment as Lupin continued to speak, "Black has harmed many lives, yours more than most, and all this security is truly not what I would have wished for my best friend's son."
A scream of excitement from the pitch distracted them both momentarily. The noise allowed Veneficus to spin away, descending from the tower quickly, but unfortunately not quickly enough for Lupin to not be able to catch up. "Harry…" he said with a hint of desperation in his voice, before Veneficus cut over him.
"I don't know what you meant to my dead parents," he said, coldness edging into his voice, "and I don't know what history you may have with me, but I am not remotely interested in reconnecting with a past that should be left as it was. I am more interested in the future, and what new things it will bring. I know the real reason you follow me around, the lack of trust that you, and Dumbledore by extension, have for me."
Lupin flinched as if struck, but Veneficus was finished with him, "Leave me be, if you know what is good for you. I don't want you following me any longer." Stalking away, Veneficus left the broken man to his misery. Knowing that Dumbledore would soon hear of this development, the Sith made himself scarce, disappearing back into his secret base in Slytherin's Chamber.
Normally, in this situation he would have spent his time demolishing more training droids, but currently they were all still being repaired, and would not be of use at this instant. However, there were other pursuits that the Sith Lord could throw himself into.
Ducking into the hidden library of Salazar Slytherin, in which his servant Anguis had been laboring to unlock, the Lord of the Sith pondered anew the mystery of the Force based seals that had been placed upon the curses and charms securing the books. Could it have been that ancient Slytherin had power over more than just the Wild Force, but could touch the Cosmic as well?
Almost to prove that it had been real, Veneficus snatched up a book that was set off on its own. Stroking it along the spine, Veneficus felt it resonate from the barest touch of the Dark Side, and all protections upon it dissipated instantly. The book fell open without any resistance, and Veneficus glanced momentarily at the words, preparing to set it aside for another. Something caught his eye, and he turned to study the words.
There was something… different… about the way they were written. If the book was truly as old as Slytherin, then why were they so easy for Veneficus to read? It was as if, as if it was a language that he knew intimately, one that required no schooling or training to decipher. It took mere moments to realize that it was Parseltongue, in written form. A true feat of magic to align such a purely verbal language into writing, but the ancient Slytherin would be the one to master it if anyone was to.
The book, it seemed, was a record of the early life of the castle, as well as many of Slytherin's personal thoughts and feelings. A diary or journal of sorts, but there were also spells and different formula written for various subjects that the ancient wizard had been most interested in. It was clear that much of history about the man was somewhat incorrect, as the man had been of less than purest blood himself, as far as the wizards were concerned, and was hardly concerned with who attended the school. Slytherin, it seemed, was more of a scholarly type, not too different from an atypical Ravenclaw.
Unfortunately, Veneficus sensed the school starting to return from the Quidditch field as the game concluded, and his presence would possible be missed by a certain nosy Headmaster if he did not make an appearance. Pocketing the journal, the Sith Lord departed quickly, fully intending to investigate the books of the hidden library in more detail sometime in the future.
He was, unfortunately, hindered from so much as looking at the book he had taken for the rest of the evening, between an open meal in the Great Hall and some arbitrary talk that Snape decided to have with the entire house up until curfew. So, Veneficus sat cross legged upon his bed, the map he had taken from the Weasley twins in front of him and the journal in his lap.
As the other children around him settled into deep sleep, and the intermitted snoring, Veneficus was casually flicking through the journal, occasionally looking at the map from time to time. It was a practice that he had taken too for some time now, after Black's first break in of the school. If there was a chance that the man would try again, Veneficus would find him, and end him if he could.
Meanwhile, the research and random thoughts of the Founder of Slytherin intrigued the Sith Lord greatly. From small hints and lines between the many spells and diagrams of the wizard's many projects, Veneficus confirmed that the Parselmouth had indeed known and had access to the power of the Force. The man had called it sorcery, to distinguish it from the wizardry that they were teaching the young students of ancient England and Scotland.
He was just reading about how the old wizard had discovered his ability prior to meeting Gryffindor and the other Founders, when his eyes were drawn to the map. He had left it turned to the portion around the Gryffindor common room up on the seventh floor. Every member of Slytherin House knew the location of the other houses' common rooms, as it was important to know where potential foes could have come from, but it was the labeled dot sneaking into the Lion's Den that sent anger rushing through him.
'Sirius Black'
Veneficus took no time in sneaking out of the room, exiting the dungeons under the cloak of invisibility he had been foolishly given to him from Dumbledore, and while both unclipping a saber and consulting the map. The man was still in the tower, and Veneficus rapidly made his way up there. By the time he reached the third floor, the Sith paused. Why was Black so intent on entering the Gryffindor Tower? There had to have been something he was after, as it was more than apparent that Veneficus was in Slytherin.
Just then, the dot indicating Black's location started fleeing the tower rapidly, descending the stairs and heading directly for Veneficus. The Sith smirked at the situation, vengeance at last. Positioning himself in the center of the room, he prepared to intercept Black as the man came rushing by, weapons in his hands.
A man never appeared, instead, a massive black dog bounded around the corner. Unprepared for the far swifter four footed animal, Veneficus could only dodge as the grim-like beast nearly bowled him over. Cursing to himself, Veneficus watched from under the cloak as Black shifted into a filthy, unkempt man, and opened up a secret passage in the hump of a one eyed witch's statue, slipping in before the Sith could so much as utter a spell at him.
Muttering his anger, Veneficus slowly stepped away from the place, closely dodging Professor Snape as the man stalked angrily past.
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Severus Snape cursed as he prowled around the castle after hours. Not even twelve hours after the final match of the year but Black had tried once again to kill Potter. The man foolishly still believed that the boy was in Gryffindor, and had penetrated all the way to the third year boy's dorm. He had been thwarted in harming anyone, thankfully, when he startled away the youngest Weasley boy, and the cowardly man had fled when the boy cried out in fright.
Now it was the Potions Master undignified duty to aid in the searching of the castle once more to make sure that his childhood enemy was not hiding away in some unused nook of the school, waiting to strike.
As he searched, his thoughts drifted back to Potter. The arrogant boy had just the previous day completely thrown off his watchdog, Lupin, much to the Headmaster's displeasure. If Severus didn't despise the boy he would have found the situation amusing, as the massive amount of invasive attention the boy was warranting was indeed laughable, if not for the many peculiarities and outright frightening things that the boy had said and done.
Severus still remembered the rant the boy had had when he was first denied the privilege of attending the Hogsmeade trip. At the time he had dismissed it as the flooding anger of a foolish boy, but… but was there something more to them? Severus pondered the words that Potter had flung at him like darts.
The boy had spoken of things well beyond the wizarding world, and even the earth itself. 'The entire Galaxy,' the boy had said, not as any sort of exaggeration, but as an indisputable fact. The boy had some knowledge that, at least to him, was something from the muggle world, or something farther beyond.
But it was still beyond the knowledge or comprehension of the Hogwarts Professor and it still mattered little. The boy was no more than a boy, supposed hidden knowledge or not. The Headmaster may fear all he wanted about the boy or his guardian, but the child was still merely thirteen years old, and a moderately powerful wizard, just like his boastful father.
However, despite his continual denial of the boy's skill, there was a nagging doubt in the back of his mind. if even the inkling of what the boy hinted at was true, and Severus could only guess at what muggle knowledge he had remaining from his childhood, but he suspected that something indeed strange and potentially highly dangerous had occurred in the short years between Potter's disappearance from the Dursleys' home and his reemergence into wizarding society.
Would he take these thoughts to the Headmaster? Most likely not, as they were wild speculation of the loftiest sort, and Severus knew from experience that Dumbledore, while a very understanding man, usually took only his own counsel on such matters. If he had need for such information or idle thoughts, he would summon Severus and ask for them. Otherwise it would be fruitless to solicit his own worries and ideas to the brilliant defeater of the Dark Lord Grindlewald.
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Zychre the ruby cobra coiled lazily around his speaker's torso, enjoying the well contained warmth from the beating heart and surging darkness that his Veneficus had swirling subtly around him. It was an intoxicating sensation, and the serpent knew that it was this cloud of tantalizing, invisible shadow that drew the human brats to the speaker's side, for his benefit or not.
While carried about by the young human he smelled and heard much, learning quickly the language of the humans to the point where he could comment on the rumors and unease that seemed to permeate the massive nest where the humans had made their burrows.
He could smell the agitation in the air, like when a mongoose was near, and from what he overheard, his judgment was not far off. Another human, named Black or some such human nonsense, was near and had entered the nest twice already, which had frightened the young humans to no end. The one red haired human, who was a massive irritant to his Veneficus, complained loudly about when he had encountered the invader, also casually mentioning that his own familiar, a rat that Zychre was sure he had never smelled before on the boy, was missing since days previous, loudly blaming Veneficus of this despite his lack of proof.
Quietly, to not spook the other children that sat around the speaker, Zychre crawled up to the base of Veneficus' neck, speaking low into his ear. "The red haired boy hasss never owned a rat… I cannot sssmell the ssscent of rodentsss upon him. Only that of men, and not a familiar ssscent from the nessst either…"
The ruby cobra felt the sensations around his speaker shift to that of understanding and suppressed glee almost immediately upon his words, which pleased the snake to no end. He enjoyed being of use to his Veneficus, as it usually meant great reward, and the increase of magical energy flowing between them only caused the serpent to grow stronger, and therefore more useful.
Veneficus did not respond to Zychre, but the snake knew that it was not out of him ignoring his familiar, rather it was much the same reason that the cobra could just be out in the open, scales dazzling in the light. The humans here didn't look fondly upon Zychre's kind, their unbidden fear and hatred leading to acts of violence potentially, especially with the ruby cobra's very deadly venom perceived as a great threat.
When the speaker stood and left the other children and went outside the castle, he spoke softly to Zychre, "I have a tasssk for you now, my familiar… I need you to find the rat he ssspoke of, find it, wherever it isss hiding, and tell me of itsss location. I will have need of it sssoon…"
Zychre shifted in excitement of his adventure, and quickly slithered down the human's body, diving into the grass and away as he tasted the air, trying to find the scent that he had smelled on the red haired human's body. Several nearby rocks seemed as good a place to start as any, especially since the itching along the sleek body was telling Zychre that it was soon time for him to shed again.
Yes, this adventure was going to be most entertaining and productive.
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Anguis nearly laughed at the supposed security measures being only now taken to seal the castle from Black's incursion. Enchanting the front doors to recognize the man if he entered via them, and Filch going about boarding up every nook and crack in the castle he could find, even down to the tiniest mouse hole. It was pathetic, not only that it had taken this long for them to even think of such precautions, but it just looked sloppy that they felt that they had to rush about doing this while students were at the school.
The Gryffindor house guardian was changed yet again, back to the massive lady in pink, not that the Sith Acolyte cared much of the goings on among the opposing house of students. The trolls she had demanded on the other hand were more of a concern, albeit there was little reason for him to even go that far up the castle.
Ever since breakfast the morning after Black supposedly broke in again, Veneficus seemed deeply pleased about something, and Anguis was troubled that he was once again out of the loop. If he was indeed going to be the heir of the Dark Side, he was sure that he was supposed to be privy to more of his Master's intentions and designs, but then, he recalled that Veneficus himself was here and not with Millennial, while the powerful Sith Master was off doing Force-knew-what.
What else Anguis did notice that day, was the new book that his Master was consistently perusing, pulling it out at random intervals of time, even in the middle of classes to thumb through.
The book felt familiar somehow, but Anguis had never seen the cover of it before, and wasn't sure if it was just a new interest that the Sith Lord had taken up to draw his ever expanding knowledge even farther, or just for amusement against the everyday lessons that were clearly below his level of magical aptitude.
There were times that Anguis wondered why Veneficus even stayed any longer in the wizarding world. A little over two years in Hogwarts and the Sith Lord was already farther along in theoretical magic than most seventh years, and his sheer power rivaled even Headmaster Dumbledore, at least as far as Anguis felt.
And yet the Sith Apprentice remained. Aside from it being Master Millennial's wishes and orders, Anguis could only think of one reason. Veneficus felt some resonance in the Force, an ominous prompting from the Dark Side that urged him to remain until some unknown yet predestined event or even a chain of events.
Meanwhile, Zabini had loudly mentioned that the Hippogriff that had injured him had been targeted by the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures, and that the beast was as good as dead, despite a mound of legal proceedings that barred the way to an execution.
If Anguis was to indeed care of Professor Hagrid's plight, it would have been simple to point out that he had brought this injury upon himself, but at the same time there was nothing for him to gain out of either side succeeding. If anything, having this added conflict was all the better, a stronger smokescreen to cover the movements and influence of the Sith.
Their weekend, gratefully, went undisturbed, secreted away in the darkness beneath the school. Veneficus seemed to be all consumed with his new book as well as consulting his map taken from the red headed twins, which left Anguis to his own devises. He trained, honing his skill with body, blade and wand. Niman was indeed his preferred style, the ability to rotate between each weapon in an ever increasing cycle of positioning.
When he had spent his energy in tempering his skills, he turned to his duties of Slytherin's Library, as well as the project to form a prototype magical energy cell. Unbeknownst to Terrence Boot, the Acolyte of the Dark Side had already begun, forming a metallic cube out of scrap metal from the remains of droids and other components that were no longer serviceable. After superheating the scrap into a solid block by magic, Anguis carefully organized micro-channels of magic through the interior of the cell, opening up areas for the Wild Force energy to collect and remain.
That was where he had left the project before now. This time, Anguis had to study Granger's blueprints carefully, plotting out the tiny lines of runes that had to be carved into the metal to draw in ambient magic into the storage pockets and keep it there. There were others also that were designed to funnel the magic out when activated, which would allow the 'battery' to power whatever source it was attached to. Setting to work with several small and fine-tuned etching instruments, Anguis carefully scratched the first series of runes to contain magic inside and set a limit of how much it should contain. These had to be placed first, or the power cell would overfill and explode rather quickly, and that wouldn't be of use to anyone.
It was quite a relaxing exercise, something that allowed Anguis to passively slip into the currents of the Force as he worked, drawing the energy naturally through him to guide his hands and allow his mind to wander.
The village of Hogsmeade swam in his mind. He recalled that the following weekend was one of the school trips to the little village. He had presumed that he and Veneficus would decline to attend because of weightier things that had to be accomplished, so he was interested to see himself and the Sith Lord there. Veneficus was more of a shimmering outline of himself, which Anguis figured was because of the boy's invisibility cloak.
The vision shifted slightly, his gaze darting over the village to the boarded up shack that stood a ways off from the rest of the community. The Shrieking Shack, Anguis recognized. So, the pair would be going to visit that haunted place. But for what reason, he mused? Almost as if in answer, his sight, well beyond his normal sight already, dove into the building to reveal a scraggly man in prison robes and a mane of unkempt hair.
The vision abruptly ended when Anguis realized that it was Sirius Black. He paused in his carving, pulling the tools away in case he accidentally knocked the metallic lump and ruined one of his runes. So, Sirius Black was hiding in the Shrieking Shack, just outside the school and the village, but how, and why…
Anguis had the suspicion that Veneficus could already sense the man, even from the castle, but still… there were just too many questions related to the whole matter, and Anguis was growing tired of being left out in the cold of it.
Perhaps it was not his place to question the workings of his Master, but it was part of who he had become, and even more so after the harrowing journey he had been taken on through the Sith Temple secreted inside an asteroid belt. He knew that Veneficus' aloofness with his plans was not good for him, as it either signified a lack of trust, or that the matter was related to him in some way.
Several of the sets of runes he had been etching were finished, and all that remained was to cut in the last sequence to draw in magic, and activate them all to see if they functioned properly. However, Anguis felt his Master approaching and knew that their time was almost up. Setting aside his tools, he turned to greet Veneficus, who looked exceedingly pleased still, much the same as he had been after his short walk outside at the end of breakfast that morning.
"I sense much discontent within you, my Acolyte," he said calculatedly, and Anguis stiffened slightly. Was the Sith Lord reading his emotions through the Force now, making absolutely certain of Anguis' every motive and intention? The black haired boy continued, "You have felt the general distance that I, and by extension my own Master, have been putting between us and you, and you are beginning to chafe from the seeming lack of… trust…"
Anguis held his breath, uncertain at where Veneficus was going with his line of thought. "The heart of the matter," the Sith Lord continued, "Is not so much to do with not trusting you, but that we cannot fully trust your father, or what he might do if he somehow learned our secrets…"
Anguis paused, seeing where pieces and parts of the web were pulling together. "Were you aware," Veneficus said, "that Lucius was calling together all the Death Eaters year to year at his little parties, keeping appraise of every situation, just waiting for his lord to return?"
Anguis had only been aware of the first, not so much that his father was still awaiting the return of Voldemort. "But if he was to learn how great and powerful you both were…" he said, knowing that his father would favor the greater power.
"It would change nothing," Veneficus finished, "Your father is fixed on not only his lord, but the power and influence his position gains by association with that dark wizard. We represent a great and terrible threat to his power. And you already know about those with power…"
Anguis most certainly did. Those with power only feared losing their power. It was evident in the Ministry, Dumbledore, and even the Sith, so it would reasonably apply here as well. "So what is to be done?" Anguis asked, uncertain if he wanted to hear the answer.
"Well, know that we have our plans for him, plan which will end very soon, and afterward… he, his power and influence, will all no longer be of use to us. It is beginning already. Lucius is very eager to 'tempt' Darth Millennial into his circle of supplicants in hopes of adding a powerful wizard to their ranks for Voldemort's return, but he in the process is drawing close to learning too much."
Veneficus put a brotherly arm around Anguis as the Sith became to walk toward the exit of the Chamber, "It may almost be amusing to see his face if he were to realize just what we are, what you have become. Perhaps you may be right, and he would change allegiances, but it would take skill in persuasion, and time that we unfortunately do not have…"
'…or a son that he loves; one that he would lose forever otherwise…' Anguis thought as they ducked into the school proper. He knew what he had to do, regardless of being subtly asked to or not. If Anguis wanted his father to survive, he had to convince the man to serve the Order of the Sith Lords, and abandon Voldemort completely.
It would not be an easy task, but Anguis hoped that he had the edge needed to succeed.
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Master Coven sat in stony silence as the Jedi High Council of Coruscant debated the newest in a series of seemingly separate events. It began when the government of Tiss'sharl mysteriously collapsed, along with the disappearance of the four Jedi Shadows that were sent to help prevent civil unrest and chaos from an underground splinter faction. Now however, it seemed that even the rebellious faction had been decimated, and the League of economic enterprises that covered the planet had stepped in, reforming the government into a coalition for their own economic benefit.
That led to many other systems exploding in increases of trade and commerce, almost within a standard month. Several other systems had even followed the violent example that Tiss'sharl had and forcefully removed their previous, more conservative governments, opting for more economically based powers. In turn, this led to an increase of exploration. With the threat that had been the Sith Empire removed, beings were more willing to fly out into the unknown parts of space. The Republic even encouraged this, putting through legislation that opened up the Deep Core and fringing parts of Wild Space for colonization.
Many of these explorers were adventuring types, so it was expected that some would bite off more than they could swallow and go missing, but there was an exceedingly high number of disappearances or fatalities in recent months. All seemingly remote incidents, barely linked together by circumstance, but the Jenet Jedi Grand Master could feel from her innermost cells that the work of the Sith, and the Dark Side by extension, was at play in the events of the last few years.
It seemed all to convenient, and quick, for so many systems to throw off their previous governmental forms, especially in favor of ones that would prove in time to be even harsher and more demanding than the last. Then there were the disappearances. While the beings involved were varied and mostly unrelated, the areas that they disappeared in all seemed to range near to systems that had at one time been Sith controlled.
Alas, there was no point for Fae to try and reason her dread fears with the rest of the Council, as they would never have listened. The Jedi had moved on from being ever on the lookout for the Sith, but had grown somewhat lax in their belief that they had won the hard and bloody victory against their ancient enemies.
Departing the meeting after it was adjourned, Fae wandered the halls in thought, uncertain what more she could do to prepare for the inevitable return of the Dark Side. She stopped when someone called her name. Striding toward her purposefully was Master Restelly Quist, Chief Librarian of the Jedi Archives.
"Master Coven, what is this I hear of you approving a copy of the entire archives being made?" she said imperiously, and Fae couldn't help but chuckle. Master Quist took her position very seriously, guarding the sacred records of the Jedi from thousands of years ago like a Rancor over her brood, ready to flay anyone foolish enough to attempt to harm her charge.
"Peace, Master Quist," Fae said quietly, beckoning the elderly human toward an empty lecture hall. After shutting the door behind them, the Jenet smiled pleasantly up at the Chief Librarian, "There is a simple explanation for the need to copy the Archives."
"There had better," the other Jedi Master said simply, not even the barest trace of anger in her voice. Restelly trusted Fae's judgment in many circumstances, and the Grand Master of the Order was sure that, even if she disagreed with the reasoning, Master Quist would appreciate the pragmatism.
"I have had, for a long time now, troubling premonitions in the Force," Fae began slowly, "at first they were small, too small to feel, but they've grown larger now. And they are Dark in nature." Whatever Master Quist had been expecting, this was not it. Her eye brows rose. "Over time," Fae continued, "I discovered what the Force is trying to warn me of. I fear that the Sith are still out in the Galaxy, regrouping their numbers and gathering power somewhere hidden from our eyes. I felt it was best, in case the uttermost worst befell us, that our precious records, many of which the Sith would no doubt destroy out of sheer spite, needed to be protected."
"You mean to say that you fear that they would break into even here, the heart of our influence in the Galaxy?" Master Quist said, disbelieving.
"I do," Fae affirmed, "I have had the copy sent far away, to a system only I, and the member of the order that was tasked to deliver it, have any knowledge of. All I can say is that it is a secluded system, one that the Sith would have no hope to find."
"I still don't know if I like the concept of their being a copy of the Jedi Archives out there where just anyone could stumble upon it…" Restelly said hesitantly.
"Think of it just as a precaution," Fae said soothingly, "only to be used if needed, and otherwise just forgotten. I have it protected, don't worry a thing about it."
This still didn't relieve all of the Chief Librarian's concerns, but neither was she at risk of taking her concerns to the rest of the council, "I just hope that you know what you are doing," she said at last, and excused herself.
Fae watched her friend and fellow Jedi depart, hoping that she was indeed making the right decisions to preserve the Jedi Order.