Books, scrolls, Chips and Shoulders

[Joycelyn Zambrano]

Some would say that the Sith were out to destroy information, but when visiting one of their great libraries, it was hard to believe. Joycelyn Zambrano stood between rows upon rows of databanks. One could spend hours in this place, delving into the mysteries of a subject, or spanning from one to another until one could visible see the way it all connected.

Joycelyn, however, was not much of a book-person. Yet, she found herself forced to acquire a certain understanding that was best given through books. It was moderately interesting at best. So the tall woman stared into the data-screen and let out an audible sigh as her finger scrolled down the page.

"Darth Krayt..." "Direction..." "The Rule of Two" She yawned " -Jedi.."

Her finger stopped and quickly scrolled back a few lines as she looked once more at the lines and understood absolutely nothing. Which usually meant she needed yet another file. She was tempted to groan in annoyance as she leaned back in the torture instrument of a chair and looked around.

With her deep brown eyes, she saw a Noghri consulting one of the local librarians, who, in turn, was a sour, elderly Miralan with a hunched back and jowels like a Selkath. Turning her head the other way, she observed a couple making a quick exchange through a hand-shake and an approving nod before moving on. She did not recognise them, nor did she catch the nature of the transaction, but it was shady and probably illegal. Death-sticks presumably.

[member="Thost Keshann"]

 

[Arage Bao]

Glee Ansalem,
Grand Library.
[member="Joycelyn Zambrano"]

There were as many types of Sith as there were stars, Thost Keshann liked to say. This was obviously an embellishment of undue proportion. But there was a certain tune that rang true to him whenever he voiced it out loud. Reading up on the history of the various Sith Orders and the Dark Jeedai that spawned them only underlined this more to him.

There were the obvious ones. The rage-infested and the ones addicted to pain. Some were little schemers, like shadowy spiders in their corner webs and others were bloodthirsty warriors who were barely literate.

Archivists, Inquisitors, Businessmen and Arcanists.

Many possibilities there were, definitely. But Keshann liked to compare himself to the scholars of ancient old, the ones that had studied the Sith lore within the Citadel of Ziost.

And so the Falleen strode into the great library of Glee Ansalem. Digital repositories of knowledge aplenty, acolytes whispering in the corners, far-off a restricted section that held the rare collection of Sith scrolls.

After a few passes through the literary artery Thost finally settled on an essay about the merits of Krayt's philosophy and what eventually caused his downfall, written by one Darth Carach.

He sat down at a random table - the same table that Joyce was sitting at, but across from her.

"Interesting." Thost mumbled to himself as his eyes flitted across the first few sentences.

 

[Joycelyn Zambrano]

"Interesting."

Joycelyn's head turned back to the desk and her eyes stared right at an unfamiliar figure. Bald, pale, ridges on the head like he thinks he's people. Sure, she was no assassin or spymaster, but it was not every day someone managed to sneak up on her. She followed his gaze to the text, then back up at his face.

"What?"

Perhaps he wasn't talking to her at all. He could just have found the text interesting. Perhaps he was unable to access a copy of his own? In which case, why was he there at all? All the thinking was getting on Joyce's nerves. So many questions, she needed more simple. Damn the textbook! The writer was obviously too full of himself when he wrote it.

Despite her keen eye, Joycelyn was not one of those who would some day pour over tombs in her free time and uncover the great dark secrets of Sith Sorcery. Or, at least it didn't look that way at the moment. She fell more readily into the category of the fighter, the raging brute with a penchant for dishing death and absorbing damage like a huge murder-sponge.

Yet, there were things she was forced to read up on. Perhaps audiobooks would be easier?

For now, she stared blankly at the person who had made the sudden appearance before her, [member="Thost Keshann"]

 

[Arage Bao]

[member="Joycelyn Zambrano"]

It was often said that Falleen were considered one of the 'beautiful' species in the Galaxy. Alongside the Twi'leks, the Togruta and the Zeltron. But apparently Joyce had not gotten that memo and was too focused on the 'bald'-part to really appreciate the scenery. They could also use pheromones to influence the sentients of this Galaxy, like the Zeltron, but Keshann wasn't a big supporter of that particular practice.

Just seemed a little distasteful to him.

"What?"

Thost looked up as that voice snapped through their immediate area. Puzzled expression was followed by the furrowing of his brows, before the Sith nodded an acceptance of her existence here.

"Ah, the author of this particular essay postulates that it was Krayt's focus on gaining a legacy - in the form of the Skywalker prodigy - that caused his eventual demise." the Falleen shrugged, before looking back at the datapad.

"It shows a remarkable understanding of the flaw that most prominent Sith Lords have displayed across the ages."

The Sith Acolyte looked up again, brow once again furrowed in thought.

"Can I help you with something?"

 

[Joycelyn Zambrano]

Beauty lies in the eye of the beholder. This beholder was not immediately impressed by the creature before her. It was sort of like fashion. Sure, some people are telling you it looks great, but you may sit there with an inkling that it's a little weird for you. Yet, it was proof that one is more likely to immediately appreciate a creature with features that are more similar to oneself. Perhaps she would come to appreciate it in time.

Joyce looked down at her essay and raised an eyebrow, then back up at the figure on the other side of the desk. It would seem they were reading the same essay, but this person had a certain understanding she lacked. She knew Darth Krayt was the supposed ancestor of their current regime. Before that, they had some silly membership restriction, which sort of worked, but in the end didn't get them where they wanted to be.

"You know, that sounds familiar. They keep reaching for that perfect apprentice and then they get themselves killed. Yet, it doesn't really say what for."

Joycelyn leaned forward onto the desk, intertwining the fingers of her hands and resting her nose on her knuckles. Reading was not her strong suite, but she could investigate the matter through conversation

[member="Thost Keshann"]

 

[Arage Bao]

[member="Joycelyn Zambrano"]

What for?

Now that was a question that made Keshann blink. Not because it was a stupid question, but because it was a really good question. Why did these powerful Sith Lords constantly search and poke around for these apprentices, what drove them into pulling and tugging at impossible angles to try and attain them?

Why couldn't they just sit back, enjoy the empire they had forged and call it a day? Maybe get some tea, coke or good food while they were at it?

"Hmm, you are right. Why." then Thost chuckled. "Well, I doubt we will get the answers from the Lords themselves."

And then a possible answer came to the Sith Acolyte.

"I think it all comes down to that same thing: a 'legacy'. They were all striving to leave a lasting mark on the Galaxy, through an empire, through gaining immortality, through destruction of others... perhaps some of them thought that a worthy Acolyte could add to this lasting mark of theirs?"

Thost shrugged, and then waited for what she had to add.

 

[Joycelyn Zambrano]

After a second of thought, Joycelyn snorted a laugh and a smile spread over her lips. A humorous oversimplification of the matter had been formulated in her head, and she was aware of the possible blasphemy in it.

"So, it's a pissing contest. The one who leaves the biggest mess wins."

She was fully aware that the matter was more serious than so, but for herself it became an apt humorous description of the Sith's continuous chase for fame, power, glory and the better apprentice. If one could train the greater prodigy, one's honour would stay intact when one would inevitably be defeated.

"Though, when you think about the old Rule of Two, it sort of makes sense to seek the prodigy. If Krayt was near invincible, then he couldn't trust just anyone to become powerful enough to take his mantle and be able to lead the Sith. As you said, Legacy."

A question of legacy indeed. Sometimes one had to gamble. If none of your own were strong enough to take the mantle, then one had to get one who was. However, it was not given that new one would agree to the ideals of the former.

Off to the side, there was a crash of noise as the Noghri tried to bully the elderly Miralan into giving him access to the restricted section. Only to be blasted into the stone ceiling by a momentous crash of Force Energy. Joyce had seen people pick on the Grand Librarian before and it never ended well for the bully.

[member="Thost Keshann"]