Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private Delivery: Noah Zratis

of the wine-dark star-sea
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"Why not?"

Efret ran a hand through her hair before setting her elbow back on the table. She rested her thumbpad and side of her pointer finger on her jawline. Contrary to the thoughtful air that her body language gave, she had decided on her stance some time ago. Perhaps making up one's mind wasn't the Jedi way, but she was also an anthropologist, and had to abide by their way.

The Chiss member of her small team—Sodus—continued: "You and Knight Vanagor successfully retrieved artifacts from Jiroch-Reslia, surely saving the Tunrothese culture from the Sith."

The NJO's chief curator resisted the urge to reply that the Hunters' way of life would persisted with our without Jedi assistance. Though a beautiful and idealistic sentiment, it was likely not practical. Did Efret still stand by her recent statement to Connel Vanagor Connel Vanagor that the Tunroth would never betray their ancestors to the Sith? Yes. But did that in and of itself mean than the culture would survive? No. The Sith Order was infamous for committing genocides. Thus, perhaps she and Connel had done what Sodus suggested. At the very least, if the worst came to pass, they had preserved some of the culture for posterity, another lost culture that could be learned about in a museum far from its planet of origin.

As she took her hand away from her face and signed a reply, the clip on her tunic scanned her movements and interpreted their meaning in a monotone, feminine voice: "Because I'm unsure if the NJO will return them once the war is over and the planet is liberated." That was more than a little hopeful. Efret knew that as she signed it. The war might well reach armistice without Jiroch-Reslia's freedom being restored.

"You're unsure?" he echoed, brow knitting.

"Yes, I'm unsure," she repeated. "We're here to do little more than collect culturally important artifacts and send them to place of safekeeping in the Core." That much was a fact. What was still up for debate was its ethics. Efret had originally proposed the idea of Field Camp Nu and its mission as a war necessity, but was it really? She couldn't help but think now that the initial, uncertain haze of another war declaration had offered an opportunity for a lapse in judgement, and that she had walked right into it. Speaking her mind clearly and often would be her penance now. "I'm sure we won't be allowed to return Sith artifacts. What guarantees that we'll be able to return non-Sith artifacts, including those belonging to non-NJO Force sects?

"You asked about the senate hearing. Most representatives favored some degree of oversight of Alliance citizens that belong to Force traditions that use the Dark side." Adherence to the Qotsisajak had long since been legislated illegal, but many Force traditions besides the Sith and their Order revered the Dark side. Just to name a few, there were the Witches of Dathomir, Sorcerer of Tund apostates, Embers of Vahl, Shapers of Kro Var, Seyugi Dervishes, and New Ascendants. "What stops them from trying to regulate understanding and use of the Light side in the future? Would that make the Silver Jedi or the Ashlans the newest enemies of our state?" Those were only two examples of traditions that ran more or less adjacent to the NJO, but also to be considered were Jedi splinter groups that had drifted to a neutral philosophy like the Guardians of the Whills or the Jensaarai. "If I can't promise the eventual return of their artifacts, I refuse to take anything from Kashyyyk or Ruusan."

The lack of concern playing across Sodus' facial features failed to bother Efret. She had seen enough apathy to this point to harden her to more expression, or, rather, lack thereof, of it. "Your level of worry is commendable but unnecessary."

She wouldn't pursue this thread of hers with him further today. "Perhaps," she admitted sincerely. Perhaps she had gone away from Fondor with the wrong impression of the political climate surrounding the so-called Dark side issue; perhaps she hadn't, but was reacting to it irrationally; perhaps she was right to imagine the possible long-term effects, this being one of them. After all, the Chief Curator didn't work to protect just Jedi culture.

All cultures were valid, valuable, and the galaxy had a vested interest to sustain its diversity whether it knew it or not.

But before she could say that, a Kessurian man stepped into the long tent's canvas doorway. He looked from Sodus to Efret and said to her, "Someone's here, boss."

"Thank you, Toric," she signed back to him, her unit speaking for her. She turned to regard Sodus. "We'll finish this conversation later."

He nodded his head once, slowly. "Of course."

As she stood to receive the camp's guest, both men excused themselves: Toric back out the canvas flap door and Sodus further into the tent to one of its modular rooms.

 

Noah Zratis

Guest
Noah approached Field Camp Nu with a rough, canvas bag slung across one shoulder. Inside said bag was an artifact—a document of sorts. His reasons for bringing it here were three-fold:

1. Academic. An exercise in the preservation of history. This was of utmost importance.
2. Introduce Bouncers to the galaxy-at-large. Spread their reverence for the sanctity of life, which should be a cardinal virtue outside these frontlines of war. In addition, Noah hoped the Bouncers could provide a sympathetic face for Ruusan's plight, making it easier to elicit foreign capital for further restoration efforts.
3. Meet Jedi Master, Councillor, Chief Curator, and hopefully fellow future collaborator, Efret Farr Efret Farr .

Okay, there was actually a fourth reason: Get the hell away from Ruusan. Noah loved his home, but sometimes a man needed to get away, escape his circumstances. Escape his parents and their constant nagging, mostly. This was the perfect opportunity for that.

After greeting the Kessurian man outside and then being ushered inside, Noah passed through the tent flap. The young Knight adjusted the collar of his black tunic. His thick, dark hair—which had taken a liking to Ettiau 6's temperate climate—bounced with each excited step.

"Greetings, Master Farr," Noah said, with a diplomatic dryness that only hid some of his excitement. "I'm Noah Zratis, from Ruusan. Vatsu Temple. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."
 
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of the wine-dark star-sea

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The Deaf Jedi wasn't able to tell what Noah's manner was through his tone of voice, but she was able to pick it up for other sources.

For one, his body language. Surely his diplomacy ways had made him aware of all the ways emotions communicated themselves unconsciously through the body, and maybe he was even able to mask their expression to a degree, but even then, as a Lorrdian, she could interpret even the most subtle kinetic movements.

For two, her Empathic abilities. She could feel his excitement as an abstract concept.

For both reasons, she smiled warmly at the first part of his introduction, then tilted her head just a few degrees at the mention of Ruusan. Given that she and Sodus had just been talking about the Mid Rim planet, an impulse tingled in her fingers to turn the knight away, but she resisted. Maybe the Force willed his coming to assuage her worries.

Or to confirm them.

This was an interesting development either way. There was no way to find out the purpose besides hearing him out.

"You've come a long way, my dear. Would you like some tea or caf?"

 

Noah Zratis

Guest
Efret Farr Efret Farr 's warmth eased him, taking some of the excitement's edge off. Her demeanor felt welcoming, like she understood him in a way he didn't understand himself. But there was a very slight hesitation in her when he mentioned Ruusan, and he wondered why. Maybe he just arrived at a bad time.

"Sure, tea would be wonderful," he replied cheerfully. "How are you? How are things here? I've never been this close to the frontlines."

Finding the closest chair, Noah sat and lifted the backpack from his shoulder, placing it between his feet while he listened. "So, I didn't come all this way empty handed. I brought a gift, of sorts," he continued, gesturing to the bag. But before he revealed the artifact, he was curious. "What do you know about the Bouncers of Ruusan?"
 
of the wine-dark star-sea

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Efret was about to move away to the kitchenette area of the tent before she noticed Noah continue to speak. She sat back down where she had been before he had entered and watched his lips over the table. "Well, to answer both questions," she replied. It was only a half truth, but he hadn't travelled at more than a third of the Mid Rim's circumference to hear about the philosophical conundrum a stranger suddenly found herself mired in. "We're close indeed. I'm not quite used to it either." That was still true. Though she had seen more combat up close and personally in the last few months than she had in the rest of her life, she didn't know if she would ever acclimate. What she did know was that she didn't want to.

Like it had to the word Ruusan, her countenance shifted in reaction to his question. Her eyebrows rose, a universal expression of recognition. "Not much, regrettably," she admitted. "Just that they're telepathic."

There was much more to her answer that she felt he would be interested in, so she continued: "As you can see, I communicate with GBSL. My speech is very underdeveloped, which means that telepathy wasn't an option for me during most of my training, either receptively or projectively. Or so I thought. I had thought telepathy could only be internal, verbal communication, and I think visually, in signs, and lipread to understand others who speak."

She smiled, thinking fondly on the memory she was about to share. "My second Master wondered if there was a telepathic technique that was visual in nature. He threw himself into research and finally found a reference of how the Bouncers reportedly projected comforting images into the minds of the wounded while healing them in the New Sith Wars. He also found a report written by a Jedi healer who had learned what she called visual telepathy from a Bouncer tribe. We both learned from that as well.

"Projective visual telepathy isn't a common skill among Force users in my experience. But somehow it's innate to Nirrah here." She motioned to the convor perched on her shoulder and wearing a small harness bearing a patch that said 'GUIDE ANIMAL'. "When I need to, I see through her eyes. I'm partially blind."

Gratitude shown through the master's hazel eyes. "The accessibility of my life is partially thanks to the Bouncers."

She stood from the bench. "Wait here as I make tea."

In two minutes, she had returned, set a mug of steeping tea in front of Noah, and returned to her seat. She had brought a second mug for herself.

 

Noah Zratis

Guest
A pang fluttered in Noah's chest as Efret Farr Efret Farr moved towards the kitchenette only to immediately sit back down. Though obscured by his darkened, sun-kissed skin, a flush crept up his neck, as he realized a faux paus had been committed in his excited rush to speak. But she didn't seem to mind, or didn't acknowledge it, so he let it go.

Her first answers were terse. Noah didn't want to push—there was probably a reason for it. This was just a first meeting, after all, and merely an introduction, at that. Something to inquire about later, perhaps.

Noah leaned forward in his chair, intrigued by her next answer. "Fascinating," he said quietly, as he absorbed all the information. When she stood to make tea, Noah felt his thoughts salivating on his tongue, then moving to bubble on his pale lips. After a quick two minutes, Efret returned. Noah leaned over the steeping mug she placed, absorbing the scent of the tea leaves as the warm steam drifted upwards.

"The Bouncers are wonderful, aren't they? I have spent considerable time with them in the mountains. Their philosophy on life and comforting the wounded have greatly influenced me. If you have a communication preference, I am well-versed in methods of telepathy, including the Bouncer's projective visual telepathy. Whatever's easier for you."

Noah took a small sip of hot tea. He smiled at Nirrah, and sent her a nudge in the Force, like a little scratch on the head. "She's beautiful," he said.

He waited for all her responses before continuing. "Well, I suppose that's enough mystery. The reason I asked about the Bouncers is because of this..." From his canvas bag, Noah retrieved a weathered clay tablet with Galactic Basic primitively carved into its face. The tablet itself was hardened through a complicated preservation process and sealed with a clear, epoxy resin.

"The Poem of Ages," he said proudly. "Well, that's dramatic of me. It's only a very small portion of an original carving, carbon-dated back thousands of years. It's unclear what happened to the rest. You can see the crude letters, clearly written with their appendages dragging across the surface. I took the liberty of preserving it in resin, mostly for safe travel, but it can be easily removed without damaging the tablet."
 
of the wine-dark star-sea

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Her hands nursed her mug for a few moments, soaking its comforting warmth in through her palms as she watched him speak. When he offered to continue their conversation via visual telepathy, she offered a genuine smile. While it was not her most preferred mode of communication, she was glad to accept the open willingness of a fellow Jedi to carry on in that way. She did not often get an opportunity to practice visual telepathy with anyone by Nirrah. Beings were often receptive, but could not always reciprocate such mental communication. Additionally, the chief curator personally found it impossible to communicate much more than single emotions or other relatively straightforward concepts through imagined scenes like a beautiful sunrise or the part necessary to repair a speeder without using GBSL signs. Thus, her communicative partner had to have at least an understanding of her language, as the interpretation unit that spoke for her when she signed physically couldn't detect movements made in her mind. Not enough people knew how to sign, in her opinion.

<You very considerate,> she signed without taking her hands from her mug. Instead, the movement was a visual thought projected from her mind into his. He would see it however his mind's eye processed visualizations.

Nirrah squeaked affectionately and rustled her feathers when Noah "pet" her.

Efret turned her head to glance at her, having felt the tips of her wings brush against her skin, then looked back to Noah. <She say thank-you.>

The older Jedi's attention then shifted to the produced tablet. After lifting her eyes to catch her contemporary archeologist's explanation, her gaze slid back down to it. <Wow...> She looked up at him again. <This beautiful, but I can't accept.>

 

Noah Zratis

Guest
Noah leaned back in his chair, stunned by Master Farr's reaction to the tablet. Not what he was expecting, or hoping for. A mix of wounded pride and disappointment bubbled at the surface, but he pushed the emotions away—the politician in him taking charge. The lessons he was learning as a Vatsu representative were paying off, starting to come naturally to him. Slowly, but surely. He took a slow sip of tea from the warm mug.

This was curious. He hadn't explained what information the tablet contained, so she didn't seem worried about that, like whether it was relevant to the Jedi or not. So, she must have some broader concern, rather than an issue with the artifact itself. He remembered her hesitation when he mentioned Ruusan and wondered if that was related. After a lingering silence, he finally spoke with a calm tone. "I'm... surprised. May I ask why, Master?"

Efret Farr Efret Farr
 
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At the very least, he deserved that after coming all this way with such a thoughtful gift. Efret hoped she could get across that her rejection wasn't personal, even though it very likely felt to him like it was. Her intension was just to reclaim the morality she felt she had lost by setting up this field camp.

She answered in his mind, but gave a somewhat forlorn smile in the physical realm. <It belong-in cultural context. That on #Ruusan, not Core planet.>

 

Noah Zratis

Guest
Noah recognized her smile. There was a genuine sadness there, like a frown turned upside down. From that alone, he could tell her intentions were pure. There was nothing personal against him in her rejection, he tried to understand that, but his ego had its own way of interpreting things. After all, he wanted to impress her. Instead, he just felt small. The politician in him deflated and he shrunk in his chair a little.

All the same, Noah needed to understand. The archeologist in him wanted to dig deeper. He placed the artifact on the desk and leaned forward. "You think it belongs on Ruusan?" he asked, just to make sure nothing was lost in translation. "I understand that, but I think it can do more good in the Core, so long as people have access to it. What good could it do just sitting on Ruusan, largely forgotten?" the way he phrased it meant the question kinda answered itself, but he let it linger. "I want more people to learn about the Bouncers. Don't you? I think this could be a start."

While his tone was still calm, Noah could feel himself getting a little bit more emotional than he intended. He hoped Master Farr wasn't offended by it. It was too late to take it back now, though.

Efret Farr Efret Farr
 
of the wine-dark star-sea

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She nodded when he sought clarification.

Over the next moments, she felt emotion radiate off him in waves. That did not come as a surprise. She sat, enduring them. Taking offense was the furthest reaction from her mind. The trick was keeping her heart open to others at times like these, their feelings and opinions, while not allowing herself to erode under their influence.

When he let his question linger, she pressed her lips together in a thoughtful expression. What he had no way of knowing was that the collection that were typically on display at the Coruscant Temple Museum were in the process of going into indefinite storage somewhere in the Fondorian subsurface. <Maybe,> she admitted to his suggestion that this gift, if she accepted it, could be a start of a cultural communication effort. <But if we choose, that not right. We not #Bouncers. Past, you ask them?>

If he had, she'd follow up, <What they say?>

 

Noah Zratis

Guest
Maybe, was a start. That, and her thoughtful expression indicated she was open to it. That was good; she'd be a lousy scientist if she wasn't open-minded, and he knew she wasn't a lousy scientist. Farr from it. And like any good archeologist, she was concerned about the ethical considerations involved. It felt good to be in the presence of a fellow academic. Noah leaned back in his chair.

"Yes, I obtained their consent. Though the original Poem is lost, newer versions exist, which include Bouncer observations from the last few decades when Ruusan was subject to Sith imperial rule. Digitizing all of it has been a recent painstaking project for me. Suffice to say, the Bouncers are happy to part with the artifact in the hopes it can aid the galaxy in some way. If it could bring some Alliance attention to Ruusan, too, that would be welcome as the restoration efforts are still ongoing. I sincerely believe this will be beneficial for all. But if you still have reservations, I understand and respect them and won't press further."

Efret Farr Efret Farr
 
of the wine-dark star-sea

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As he spoke, took a long sip of tea. As she was seeing out of Nirrah's eyes, the mug's lip didn't obstruct her vision of Noah. Only when a few moments had passed after he finished speaking did she project into his mind again. <No, I...> She trailed off, though, mental images fading to the her figure leaning back on the bench.

<You right. I sorry.> She sat straight again. <I accept. Thank-you.> Her smile was warm, but tinged with embarrassment that she had questioned a colleague's ethics. Though it had been a necessary question, she hoped it hadn't offended.

<It go-to #Fondor first,> she explained, believing he and the Bouncers deserved to know. <Stay in storage until #Coruscant safe again.> The implication was that, while on Fondor, not many people would interact with the Poem's stanzas, but that was necessary to safeguard all of the artifacts in NJO possession. She smiled sincerely, hoping to convey confidence that this situation would be only temporary—potentially long but still temporary. When the collection could return to the Temple Museum, Ruusan would have new eyes aplenty on it, of that Efret was sure. <Have patience. Meantime, I help-you personally. If you want. I need recess from frontline.>

 
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Noah Zratis

Guest
"No need to apologize," he said eagerly. "I understand and respect your concerns. You're Chief Curator for a reason."

It might have sounded like Noah was playing teacher's pet, but he had a genuine reverence for adhering to ethical guidelines in the academic process. Understanding cultural context was of utmost importance—if science wasn't anti-colonial, then scientists would just be mouthpieces for imperialism.

Noah nodded as a sign of understanding. Fondor, first. That obviously wasn't ideal and Noah could tell from her expressions that she found it regretful, but it was a necessary precaution. Well, the process was in motion, now it was a waiting game. In the meantime, Noah had other concerns.

"Recess from the frontline?" he asked. It made sense; it seemed like the Sith Order's machinations were turning towards this system—it was their logical next move. Noah adjusted himself, perfecting his posture in a familiar way, and straightened his tunic. "I'd be happy to help. What do you need me to do?"

Efret Farr Efret Farr
 
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<Invite me go-to #Ruusan,> Efret answered. <Artifact collection here important to war effort, but I tired help #NJO only. Want help-you with restoration.>

Though her recent excursion to Jiroch-Reslia had been much more stressful and action-oriented than she would ever have anticipated, she longed to again feel like a servant to a culture that trusted her. Efret badly wanted to get back to her roots, to once again immerse herself in a culture new to her, learn about it and, if allowed to by its people, participate in it, even help it.

What Field Camp Nu symbolized was about the furthest thing from that feeling that existed.

As she had said, the mission here was important, even crucial, and a large part of her did acknowledge that. It was just that another, burgeoning part of her was beginning to recognize a simultaneous truth. In their attempt to secure powerful Dark side artifacts in the southwestern Mid and Outer Rims, the NJO was perpetrating a grave disrespect on the many Force-centered cultures of these regions.

Perhaps in some Jedi's minds, that effect was one of necessary evil: Efret's outstanding contract for Dark side artifacts amassed and withheld such objects of powers, even potential or realized mass destruction, from Darth Empyrean's Empire. Efret had began the venture that was Nu in that mindset. It would have been easier if she hadn't started to wake up, but, as Noah said, she was Chief Curator for a reason—or, at least she had to believe that she was.

The Sith as the ancient organization was far from the only culture impacted negatively by what amounted in most cases to NJO-sanctioned theft; Sith cults, for example, that did not have a desire to challenge a Jedi any other way than with rhetorics over tea; or the many traditions that still were devoted to the Dark side but were not nearly as extreme in their beliefs and actions as Sith acolytes or darths; or the other cultures that communed with the Dark because they did not draw the same binary of the Force that the NJO did.

Even with all those considerations, the question of if the Sith Empire deserved to be stolen from still stood in her mind. By being a culture in the galaxy, even while it was hostile to most others, wasn't it deserving of protection and respect by, at the very least, anthropologists and archeologists?

She feared that asking that question out loud might get her expelled from the Order, but also felt somehow like Noah would understand and appreciate it. Perhaps in time she would ask. For now, however, she settled with, <Can I?>

 
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Noah Zratis

Guest
"Of course, Master Farr," he said, trying to stiffen his face lest he appear overexcited. "You scarcely need an invitation. Not that I could really give you one since I don't control the planet's transportation protocols, but I digress. You're always welcome at Vatsu and I think the Bouncers would be thrilled to meet you. And any help with the restoration efforts is of course appreciated immensely."

Noah loved Ruusan more than any one thing or person; possibly more than the whole galaxy combined. And when you loved something, you took pride in it. To take pride was to share in that sacred space where trials and tribulations, unrealized potential and deferred dreams, successes and failures, and everything in-between was interwoven on the deepest levels of sentient experience. And so, being able to witness Ruusan through Efret, an outsider who would appreciate it on a scientific and spiritual level, was a tantalizing prospect that almost had him leaping out of his seat. He hoped she would love it, too.

Part of him wondered if his parents were proud of him. Afraid of the answer, Noah pushed the thought away.

Apart from all that, there was a heaviness behind Efret's words; tired help the #NJO only implied more than it said. That, combined with some of the other things she'd said during their meeting hinted at a deeper conflict in her. Scientists may live in the brain, but they still felt things in the heart. Perhaps on their travels together he could probe her about that.

"When would you like to go?"

Efret Farr Efret Farr
 
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of the wine-dark star-sea

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As he replied, she took another long sip of her cooling tea. Her smile grew behind the lip of the mug. She found his personality, at least what she had seen so far, endearing. That was a good sign—it was likely that they would get on well when travelling together.

<Next week,> she suggested mentally as she set down her beverage. <Can arrive Primeday.> She had some projects to finish up here at Nu which wouldn't take more than a full day but she would like to take a layover on Fondor if she was making a trip anyway. The new capital wasn't terribly out of her way. Perhaps, in fact, she would stop into the artifact's storage facility on her way back as well.

<And stay one-week,> she added. That was a good amount of time, both for her and hopefully for Ruusan. A lot could be accomplished in a week by two highly competent people. One of Efret's personal tasks would be to ground and refresh herself while working on whatever was needed of her by others.

Noah Zratis
Exit thread
 
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