Private Haecceity

[Ala Quin]

Carved from ancient stone, deep beneath Shiraya's Sanctuary, sat the vaults of the ancient Jedi enclave. They were rarely used now, though Ala had wondered if they could be repurposed to hold prisoners. But now that she stood here, looking at the only contents of the vast cavern, it felt far too inhumane to imprison anyone here. No matter what their crime.

Before her, was a simple life support pod. Ancient tech, to be sure, but clearly what it was. Ala was careful to keep her reflection off of the transparisteel. The one moment she had erred had caused such a conflation of emotions that she dared not step forward again.

Next to the pod, and atop a small circular table — barely a night stand — sat an ungainly shaped water damaged data node. The fact that it clearly fit into the receptacle on the side of the pod created numerous questions that would require clarification today.

The sole occupant of the pod was a woman, not yet truly out of her youth, not not really a person. A blank slate. And clearly in the image of the Grandmaster herself. Though still retaining the fuller cheeks of a child, there was no avoiding the mass of brown curls framing the slumbering elf. It was Ala, though perhaps ten years younger.

She had requested attendance by Master Sela Basran not because she needed permission, but because she knew her chaotic impulses could no longer be her sole compass.

For years, Ala had been a creature of eccentric brilliance, bright colours, and unpredictable whims. She had played the quirky muse to everyone else's grand destinies because it was safe to remain a beautiful question mark. But looking at this blank canvas of her, that whimsical nature felt entirely too small.

The old Ala would have spun around with a sharp, irreverent quip to diffuse the horror. Instead, she swallowed the laugh and let the silence sit. She didn't need to make light of this in order to cope. She needed to know what to do next.

When the vault doors hissed open, Ala didn't turn with her usual theatrical flourish. She simply stood her ground, her spine straightening against the cold reality of the moment. Her eyes, usually darting with hyperactive curiosity, were perfectly steady. The girl who once ran away to chase shooting stars was gone. The woman standing before the ghost of her past was ready for what was to come.

"Master Basran. Thank you for your confidentiality in this matter."

| Sela Basran |​

 

[Sela Basran]

SHIRAYA'S SANCTUARY
THE VAULTS
​

The summons had been phrased by the Grandmaster as a request for Sela Basran's presence, which the older woman considered to be a thoughtful courtesy. Sela was bound by Jedi custom, if not law, to attend to the Jedi Grandmaster to the maximum extent practicable, but that wasn't necessarily the reason why she didn't find the summons to be burdensome. The truth was that Sela found Ala Quin fascinating.

Little did Sela know that Ala was about to become even more interesting.

Sela had been aware, to some extent, of the presence of vaults in the bowels of Shiraya's Sanctuary. She had been assured upon taking up the position of Head Archivist that the vaults contained nothing that would be of interest to the archives and had uncovered nothing that would cause her to question that.

Yet, here she was, entering the instructed vault, and it was not empty. Sela didn't know what exactly she was looking at from this distance, nor did it become much clearer as she shut keyed the doors shut and approached. It was clearly a device of some extraction. It resembled an incubation chamber from thirty paces, then a sealed medical bed from fifteen paces. She stopped at ten paces, not wishing to crowd the Grandmaster.

"Grandmaster Quin," Sela said quietly. "Are you well? Been sleeping?"

Ala Quin

​

 

[Ala Quin]

Ala still tensed when someone with more experience called her Grandmaster. But she was improving. This time she did not insist on being called just Ala. Instead, she just cleared her throat.

"Please," she waved the older Jedi to stand at her side, while stepping aside to make space for her.

Just for a moment, Ala's reflection looked back at her, causing her to look away quickly.

With a quick tug of her tunic, she found her composure once more, and addressed Sela properly.

"Sleeping well, thank you for asking," she said with a forced smile, "though not as good as her." She nodded towards the pod.

| Tag: Sela Basran |​

 

[Sela Basran]

SHIRAYA'S SANCTUARY
THE VAULTS
​

Sela bowed her thanks to the Grandmaster as she was invited to take a space beside her. For Sela Basran, who had come up in the highly structured, very hierarchical systems of power the Jedi often created around themselves, it was hard not to feel privileged and honored to be taken into the Grandmaster's confidence, even in what would, from the outside, appear like a small way.

"Thank you, Grandmaster," she murmured, straightening.

Then her gaze followed Ala's eyeline to the pod and the distorted reflection of the Grandmaster in the cover of the pod thing.

No.

Not the Grandmaster's reflection. Sela's eyes went wide for a moment, then she settled them, glancing over at Ala warily. "She... she does seem uncommonly well-rested, yes," Sela agreed, the caution not quite edging out the humor in her voice. Her eyes lingered on Ala a moment, then returned to the pod. She stepped closer, then halted, glancing back. "May I?"

She didn't want to open the pod. She simply wanted to get a closer look.

"Is this -- she -- why you wanted to see me, Grandmaster?"

Ala Quin


​

 

[Ala Quin]

With only a nod offered in response, Ala stepped further aside. While not really necessary so far as making space for Sela, Ala didn't mind backing away from the pod — just for a moment.

"Seeing is necessary," Ala said with a hum, "I guess."

As if it were some sacred object, Ala ran her fingers slowly over the data node.

"I do not know how much of my file you have read." Her voice had taken on a wistful quality. "But I was born a very long time ago. And this..." She wiped some dust from the runic surface of the data node. "...this is a copy of me. The memories...the personality...the version of me that was reborn over 900 years ago."

The data node rattled the table as she rolled it over, and scooped it into her hand. She stepped over to the pod, and hovered the node besides the access terminal. The tech was clearly of the same make, and would interface easily.

"I had been through so much. Not even out of my youth...."

| Sela Basran |​

 

[Sela Basran]

SHIRAYA'S SANCTUARY
THE VAULT
​

Sela's distracted eyes went to the data node, then to the device. These were of a piece, she thought, a matched set. And on closer inspection, indeed, the figure in the pod was a version of the Grandmaster herself. Younger, perhaps, or maybe just less put-upon with care. The Grandmaster did not look old, by any stretch -- Sela was much too wizened herself to cast stones on that score, at any rate -- but there were signs upon her face and her person, to say nothing of her aura in the Force, of a life that had been lived.

"I confess I have not perused your biography, Grandmaster. It is not, if you will allow me, a lack of interest. I try to make it a point to meet people, particularly my colleagues on the Council, where they are. I prefer to have an uncolored view, which can be contextualized if need be."

Her eyes left the copy and went back to Ala's face, a thin smile on Sela's dark lips.

"I can see now that there is a need."

She allowed her gaze to settle on the data node as the Grandmaster manipulated it. Perhaps it was projection, or perhaps it was a sense in the Force, or perhaps it was even one old auntie's intuition, but Sela thought there was some uncertainty there. When she spoke, her voice was kind but curious. "It is not uncommon, I think, these days?" she ventured. "To find Jedi and others reborn through various means from that era into this one. But the cloning is perhaps not so common."

Again, her eyes -- cautious and warm and curious in equal measures -- went to Ala's. "Do you know why you were cloned?"

Ala Quin


​

 

[Ala Quin]

The data node was placed back upon the table, a little louder than intended. Ala shot an apologetic smile towards her elder, before again taking uneasy stance, this time on the other side of the pod.

"Over 900 years ago. A Sith Lord named Hydrocus killed me...I was 18 years old at the time...a Padawan at an Enclave on the moon of Yavin," Ala began. There was no intention of giving the full story. Just the high...or low...lights.

She had long since come to terms with the reality of her story. But the pain still felt fresh when she told it to someone anew.

"Due to some experiments run on me as a child...the Sith Lord believed I held the key to his search for immortality. So. My consciousness was transferred into another body. One that was not sensitive to the Force. Much to the Sith's distaste...the Force did not present itself...no matter what he did..."

Her hands came up, holding herself as a shiver ran through her.

"A year later. He had altered some clones using some of my original DNA, and he transferred my consciousness in the the me you see today."

She glanced at the data node.

"That is a copy of who I was after the year of experimentation at the hands...well...you get the picture. The Sith is dead now. He died the day I was reborn..."

| Sela Basran fyi Hydrocus Venetia |​

 

[Sela Basran]

────── ⁂ ──────

SHIRAYA'S SANCTUARY
THE VAULTS

TIME • DATE

♫ IPATIEV HOUSE — MARTIN PHIPPS

x

──────── ⁂ ────────

Sela's eyes softened noticeably, her eyebrows knitting together. "The barbarism of the Sith proves to be nothing new," she observed with a sad shake of her head. "And it seems to be variations on the same stories, still, to this day. Quests for immortality, for which they will stop at no boundary, no matter of decency. I am amazed only at my capacity to continue to be surprised."

She glanced at Ala as the young-looking woman wrapped herself in an embrace that failed to suppress the shiver that trembled through her.

"Forgive me, Grandmaster. I ought not to have pried. I would not intentionally ask you to relive or speak of this this, had I known."

Sela avoided the Grandmaster's eyes for a few moments, stepping closer to observe what the pod and data node were doing. Then, after a moment of deliberation. "May I ask -- is there any aide I may render to you? Some assistance I could offer -- as regards this... situation, or any other?" She confessed that she didn't know what she could do, but she was prepared to do whatever Master Quin requested.

──────── ⁂ ────────

x

FEATURING

Ala Quin • Sela Basran

 

[Ala Quin]

A soft smile was offered to her fellow master. "I would not have told you if I was not comfortable talking about it, Sela," she said.

"And yes. But in many of them, there is still light," Ala said, with a far off gaze permitting some contemplation, "so desperate they are to rid themselves of light that they would sully their very souls for eternity. Truly horrid. Force protect us, and all we train from walking that path. For their sake..."

Her eyes fell on Sela again. "...and the rest of the galaxy." It was in that moment that the full weight of Ala's responsibility was seen in her eyes, heard in her tone.

Stepping to the pod again, she brushed the transparasteel like her fingers were feathers. "I do not have any family. After...Lorn's decisions...I sought this clone out believing it to be my last hope of something resembling family. But now...I struggle with the rightness of waking her. She...was never meant to be...but neither was I? I guess. I need advice."

| Sela Basran |​

 

[Sela Basran]

────── ⁂ ──────

SHIRAYA'S SANCTUARY VAULTS

THEN

♫ LITTLE LIFE — MICHAEL AND MICHELLE

x

──────── ⁂ ────────

"It is... rather a lot of responsibility," Sela said. Whether she was directly describing being responsible for teaching the next generation of Jedi or being responsible for a whole human life in the form of her clone was left unsaid. Really, it was both. But the Grandmaster did not appear to need any advice on the moral health of the Jedi Order or the virtue of their philosophical teachings.

Sela moved closer and looked down at the clone more closely.

"How odd," she said with a faint smile. "I am a woman of some decades of life and have seen much. I consider myself, at the very least, of above-average intelligence -- at the risk of sounding immodest. And yet I never did consider, never stopped to think about it, that a clone would look different. Very similar, obviously. And yet, she has not had your experiences, nor you hers. There will be lines on your face that she will never have, no matter how old she gets."

Sela looked up at Ala, and there was a certain childlike wonder at this apparent revelation in the older woman's face. "That one there -- " she pointed between Ala's brows without touching her. " -- from the interminable Council meetings where your Senate Liaison brings you endless troubles, which she will never have. And there are some just there, at the outside of your mouth. Smiles she will never smile because they were for joys she will never know. Should you wake her, she will have her own joys and her own laugh lines and -- Force willing you both live long enough -- different grey hairs from the ones you will someday get."

The Jedi Master folded her hands in front of her, smiling fondly as she turned her eyes back to the clone of Ala. "I see. I, ah... I never had a family of my own. Not once I left home. There was a time..." She closed her eyes, and for a moment she caught the faint scent of bacta and lilacs and a particular soap that hadn't been made in twenty years. "...well, neither here nor there. Only to say that I can understand the powerful emotion behind that instinct." She smiled wanly, then lifted her head once more.

A moment passed as Sela considered the ethics, the logistics, the implications. The questions tumbled into her mind, her Socratic instincts flaring. "What would it be like, for her? Is she -- forgive me -- is she educated? Socialized? Do you have the time to see to that side of things, what with all that is going on? Or is there someone you would trust to set her onto the right path?"

──────── ⁂ ────────

x

FEATURING

Ala Quin

 

[Ala Quin]

As Sela spoke, Ala's eyes struggled to reign in her slowly welling tears. It would be unseemly for the Grandmaster to cry. So, with a long, strained breath outwards, through tight lips, Ala retained at least some form of control.

The wise Master's assessment was correct. The clone may have been who she was but she could never be exactly who Ala was today. Circumstances shepherded individual's towards certain outcomes, but the same underlying personhood still had some say in responding circumstances.

The subtle hint as to Sela's past did not go unnoticed. Ala let the matter lie. The older Jedi was experienced enough to talk about matters frankly should she have need. The almost revelation did serve to soften Ala's perception of the woman. It did not go unappreciated.

The questions prompted answers. But Ala took a moment to gather herself, gaze fondly appreciating Sela and her counsel, before finally shifting back towards the pod.

"I had been with a Jedi Enclave for a little over a year at this point. The artificial consciousness that became me had been grafted over the consciousness of a feral child...a slave found deep within mines of Sullust," she glanced back at Sela with an apologetic wince. Most people did not much care for finding out that Ala was not really Ala, but an experiment in replicating human consciousness. It was something she tried not to think about very much, preferring rather to simply...be happy.

"I was...besides the whole dying business...a very happy. Healthy. Vibrant young Padawan. But...I had someone to guide me. Someone that loved me."

Now a tear rolled down her cheek.

"I have a whole Order to guide and...love...and most of the people I know have left with the Vanguard...I don't know how to proceed, Sela."

| Sela Basran |​

 

[Sela Basran]

────── ⁂ ──────

SHIRAYA'S SANCTUARY VAULTS

THEN

♫ SISTERS — MARTIN PHIPPS

x

──────── ⁂ ────────

Sela didn't look at the Grandmaster as she spoke.

It was all for the better, for if she had, Ala might have seen the look of surprise in the librarian's eyes. For her part, at least, Sela had managed to clamp down on her emotional response such that her surprise wouldn't radiate in the Force much, if at all. She was confident that the Grandmaster would forgive a little shock in this moment.

Artificial consciousness -- what did that mean, exactly?

Sela was ashamed to admit that her mind went first to vulnerabilities. Without knowing more, she couldn't say whether this artificial consciousness was secure. Did it have some kind of -- override? A hidden trigger? And she might not -- likely would not! -- even know it was there. Her mind went momentarily to the legends of the fall of the Old Republic, when orders implanted in the clone troopers who fought the Republic's war, long dormant, were triggered by a specific phrase. Execute Order Sixty-Six.

A chill went through her. The deaths of those Jedi had left psychic scars in some places that could still be felt today. The bewilderment, the fear, the shock and horror. But it couldn't happen here, could it? Not now, not without any whisper or warning. Could it? No. No, certainly not. There has been ample opportunity... surely not. Sela allowed her chin to lift and she turned back toward Ala. From within one sleeve she drew a kerchief. "It is clean, I assure you, but you know how ink can be indelible," she said apologetically as she offered it to the Grandmaster.

"You are in a... certain state," Sela observed uncertainly. "I am not afraid to help you reach a path forward -- if, indeed, that is what you seek from me -- but even I am cognizant that a bruise can be too fresh to probe." The business with the Vanguard, for instance. But she wondered whether they were discussing the same thing -- this nascent clone, her broken Order, the loss of a loved one -- or if, indeed, the three could be separated at all. "Are you beginning to feel that -- perhaps -- there is some merit to what the Vanguards hope to achieve? That there might be room for some detente?"

──────── ⁂ ────────

x

FEATURING

Ala Quin • Sela Basran