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
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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

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