Secret Vaults of the Selab (Levantine Sanctum Dominion of Bayan)

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Nohemi Allaneh"]

"Non-proliferation, in a word," he said, taking in pleased stride the news that several Fallanassi would take up residence. "The major archives are splintered, scattered to the winds, and we get opportunists snapping things up and then selling them on the open market. Dangerous things. I spend most of my time on...other obligations, but when I can find a spare moment, non-proliferation is the priority."

 

[Seydon of Arda]

Seydon considered. Cursorily, he pressed a calloused thumb over the bracketed listings, letting the duffel-sack by his arm fall from its strap and onto musty loam. The astromech nominally represented an invited interest if no one had raised any fuss over a droid offering to barter out previously sequestered and tumultuously rare datacrons. Technical wellsprings, once guarded with devotion bordering upon jealous husbandry by Jedi vault-keepers. Seydon stepped away from the unit and knelt by its traction-wheels, fishing into his duffel-sack.

His hand retrieved a gold-crystal beaker stopped up by a synthetic cork, hosting a virtually airless environ in the vial. A datacron rested in wedges of crumpled dark papers and shock absorbing filament. Seydon knew it as a rare report illustrating varied practices observed in the clans of the Dathomirian Witches. Just a primer, but intrinsic to inculcating an understanding towards witch-magic. A trade for the Seven Canon Forms?

"This," He raised the beaker close by the droid's photoreceptor lens. "Is a collection of Dathomorian witch-rites on how they conduct their Force practices. A relic of the Chuunthor vessel. Trade, for the 'cron on 'saber combat?"

A panel in the body-casing atop the polarity sink jutted aside and opened. Seydon took the cue and rolled the vial in onto a protective tray. The panel snapped back into place. He stood and took the proffered datacron, pocketing in a harness pouch. Or, almost did. The witcher felt Ms. [member="Chloe Blake"]'s standing presence hovering nearby, observing the transaction. Seydon extended a hand, smiling quietly with the 'cron idling in his palm. "I didn't kipe this from you, did I?"

 

[Velok the Younger]

[member="Seydon of Arda"] [member="Chloe Blake"]

Servomanipulators quivering with joy, the astromech stowed away the new datacron within a compartment and applied a graphite rod to its manifest.

For Barter:
Jedi Order datacron on the construction and use of Force-imbued blades
Jedi Order datacron on the seven lightsabre forms
Velok's imperfect datacron copy of the Sar Agorn Jedi holocron
Blueprints of the Hammerhead

It tootled its thanks after Seydon and set out looking for new barterpartners.

 

[Jaxton Ravos]

[member="Jorus Merrill"]

The thought of a flag or logo wasn't only amusing to the spacer, bringing a bit of a laugh from the Zeltron. They were united in spirit, in goals, but to bring about a larger government, a more organized creed seemed contradictory to their intent. Levantine's were based quite a bit on faith in their people, and hopefully it'd serve them well.

"I can't say I disagree. With all that's happened at Druckenwell recently Confederate space is chaotic as ever. The large majority of it'll likely be swallowed up, and keeping some of the worlds out of the crossfire of Moross and the Republic wouldn't be a bad idea." He said. Not that he hated Moross or the Republic, but rather disagreed with them. Jaxton admittedly didn't know a lot of current political scene in the Republic or Moross, but had seen noble intentions take a back seat to personal acquisition of power too many times before. If he could help it, he'd try and keep as many people as he could out of the crossfire.

 

[Jorus Merrill]

[member="Jaxton Ravos"]

"Druckenwell." Jaxton might sense Jorus' emotions become darker, introspective in an ominous sort of way. "I was there, Jax, commandin' the Emperor's Shield, the biggest, nastiest ship in the 'verse. I watched'em break on my like waves off a lighthouse, but when they went back out, they turned and torched the planet, and there was nothin' I could do. Not a thing.

"I'll keep my vendetta from your backyard, never fear, but there'll come a reckoning with the Feds, that's for sure."

 

[Chloe Blake]

[member="Seydon of Arda"]

Chloe’s amusement would reflect vividly over her face, impish delight dancing across her blue eyes as a hand would push the strands of loose blonde tendrils away from her eyes.

She gave a shake of her head, “Nah, you’re fine.” she’d relay with humor, her hand coming down to brush against the astromech’s dome head in greeting.

“I don’t think I’ve much use for…” she would peer down at the transparisteel at the most recent item that had been crossed out with graphite.

“... The seven forms.” she would say with a chuckle, straightening to gaze up at the man again. With the armor and the blades and all, she added, “I think it’s pretty clear that you would get more use out of it,” she’d say in lighthearted humor.

Extending out her hand, she would introduce herself,” Name’s Chloe.”

 

[Nohemi Allaneh]

@Je’gan Olra’en

A nod would come in acknowledgement. For her part Nohemi was not an active member in terms of procuring knowledge. No her strength lay in ensuring that the depositories under her watch were carefully hidden away. Belonging to the Order of the White Current certainly provided a method of ensuring that illusions would be woven so that none without the proper credentials would be able to access the depositories.

“I heard rumors of perhaps doing an excavation as well?” she would ask, curious.

 

[Seydon of Arda]

[member="Chloe Blake"]

"Seydon, ma'am," He said.

That first impression drew Ms. Chloe as kind of anthromorphic spitfire. Not by dint of expressed personality, she reacted with reserved measures bright with a rime of self-taught expertise and cool professionalism, a grown woman paced beyond any adolescent need to act out in order to stake some personal claim. She was a spitfire, a compact aerial pacer always happy just to have wind and knot-speed beneath the air-rudders. The Dunaan smiled and took up a stroll by her side, capering round the conclave perimeters naked foundation-caps.

"...Chloe Blake?" Seydon said after a moment, glancing down over her liquid-gold trestles. "Once upon a time Vagrant?"

 

[Jaxton Ravos]

[member="Jorus Merrill"]

There it was, the spacer's attitude shifted to a darker tone, one with eyes on one thing, revenge. He couldn't say he blamed the spacer, nor could he have said that he wouldn't have done the same thing, but he could say that keeping hold of such revenge was dangerous. If he knew the man better he'd have told him 'Just be careful not to lose yourself in the process.' But he didn't, and he wouldn't say such otherwise. Too many presumptions about the man he didn't want to make.

"Well, you I know I won't fight a war for you, but I know a lot of people who call you a good friend, and I definitely respect that. If you ever need a hand, or a home, or even just someone to talk to then I'm around."

 

[Jorus Merrill]

[member="Jaxton Ravos"]
"I wouldn't ask someone to fight a war for me -- not when you put it like that." That unsettled him into memory, and he was quiet for a moment. "Suppose there's little enough difference, though, 'tween that and leading a charge when you know folks'll follow. When you've got the knack."

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Nohemi Allaneh"]

"Yes. There was a Selab seal on a stone door...and on the door after that, and the door after that. I broke the three seals, set up some minor automated defenses and some illusions, but I haven't had the time to get down there for a thorough search of the catacombs." He squinted over her shoulder. "The others seem well engaged. Perhaps now would be a good time for us to check out the tunnels."

 

[Velok the Younger]

The astromech droid, its wares wobbling, trundled towards [member="Jaxton Ravos"]. It wheebled with cheerfulness of dubious quality, and attempted a small pirouette. The remaining datacrons, labelled Construction and use of Force-imbued blades and Blueprints of the Hammerhead, jostled in their foam housings within the precarious transparisteel display case.

"Breeep? Wheeble."

 

[Ashin Varanin]

Much as the nuna could appreciate a pretty day, so too could a local locust appreciate safety. The locusts here moved quickly and with preternatural grace. Giving the locust credit for audacity, the nuna took off in singleminded pursuit. It stormed and stumbled through what felt like a wall and then unlike a wall. Stun traps flared to life, and the nuna gribbled in zigzagging terror; the locust gained ground. The nuna, infuriated and resolute and a little bemused all at once, gave chase down into the catacombs.

 

[Ilias Nytrau]

[member="Je'gan Olra'en"] | [member="Nohemi Allaneh"]

"Then I hope neither of you will mind if I join you," he piped up, overhearing the conversation between an old friend and a newer acquaintance, as he came up from behind the them with a tightly sealed container of iced tea, popping up the straw to take a sip. "I regret I could not be here sooner... one of my newest apprentices is not having the best time of his transition from soaking in the high saturation of happiness and pheromones of Zeltros, where I found him. I have left him to the care of Miss Ryj, for now."

He took another sip, then smiled a smile that said absolutely nothing in particular.

"I would have healed him of his troubles, but I believe this experience will teach him something, even if the process does take time," he said, frankly, before moving on to the matter at hand. Was he being sadistic? No, not in the least. Though to hear his students, one might think otherwise, sometimes. "These tunnels sound quite interesting, if I might say so myself."

Another sip, then the straw was reclined, for now. He glanced from Nohemi, to Je'gan.

"Well! Shall we?"

 

[Rosa Gunn]

Taking up position a meter or so from him, Rosa began her own encouragement, her hand reaching out towards the shrub. There was always peace to be had with plants, she often spent hours in her own makeshift garden on Arda, encouraging blooms and meditating. Perhaps it was that the plants were forever reaching for the light and not the dark, that peace could be so easily found among them. She smiled slightly as Boolon showed his affection for the hedge. "It will serve well to keep local nerfs at bay. I would like to stay and help you, if you'll have me." she said her voice quiet as the section of the hedge she worked on thickened, green leaves concealing thorns as they extended.

"It would be nice to see something bloom... instead of burn." There was an edge of bitterness in Rosa's voice, she caught herself and dropped her hand, eyes drifted towards the others gathered. There were people here who could change the galaxy, who could shift the balance of a war, powerful people each in their own right, but none of whom had the patience to deal with the stupidity and ignorance of those 'greater powers' of politicians and hubris filled, tunnel vision Jedi. So they steered clear of wars as a whole, protected those close to them, those who, like them wanted to steer clear.

Every forcer had felt the deaths of untold millions at Druckenwell, but even after the event Rosa could feel it. She could feel the grief, fear and pain of the victims and their families. She could feel the hatred and anger of the murderers and the witnesses, all of it was at the edge of her empathy. It clouded things, made it harder to see where she was supposed to be. A spike of dark emotion shivered through her and her eyes settled momentarily on [member="Jorus Merrill"]. She looked away and back to the hedge, fingers extending once more.

"I'm at a loss, Boolon." she confessed.

[member="Boolon Murr"]

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Ilias Nytrau"] [member="Nohemi Allaneh"]

"Sounds like a plan. I'm not sure if you know my old student, Nohemi Allaneh -- and this is Master Ilias Nytrau, Nohemi. He's even older than me, and significantly better at keeping himself in one piece." Ilias had, so far as Je'gan knew, only ever owned one body. Je'gan had died close to two dozen times. At various points he'd been an Ithorian, a woman, or a fish.

"The catacomb entrance is just this way."

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Rosa Gunn"]
"On Bandomar," he said after a moment, "there is a tree whose seeds are sealed in cones as hard as durasteel. The natives have used them as tools from time immemorial. Every twenty to twenty-five years, forest fires burn down eighty percent of their woodland. The heat opens the cones, releasing the seeds, and a new generation begins. I say this advisedly, friend Rosa, as fire is not accountable, but not all flames are evil."

 

[Jaxton Ravos]

[member="Jorus Merrill"] [member="Rave Merrill"]

Jaxton shrugged. "It was more an exaggeration I guess. But you are right. Sometimes thing get larger than you're meaning too, just because people seem to follow, things become bigger without you really trying" He said, thinking of Silent Conclave and how it had evolved into the Levantine Sanctum, which was getting more people everyday. The group of him, Seydon, and Rosa had been the core of the beginning, along with Kida, Thurion, and Qae, who seemed akin to wander space alone nowadays, but the Levantines had grown considerably since then. Most of galaxy would disagree, but Jaxton didn't think growth was something to be measured by number of planets. Perhaps he was wrong, but if he was he'd have rather been wrong anyways.

Before the conversation could go any further a small astromech droid came around whirring and beeping in traditional astromech fashion, even spinning around in an keen grace unexpected of one it's size.

"That's quite the little dance you've got there isn't it?" Jaxton said with a cherry laugh as it showed it a display that said For Barter, then listed a couple of datacrons, one on the old Force Imbued Blades and the other on an old ship.

"I'm sorry little buddy, I don't really have much in the way of datacrons to trade." He said, though he definitely wouldn't have minded getting his hands on either one. "I betcha this skipper over here might have stuff for you though." He said, waving a hand to tell the Droid to look over to Jorus. Only time would tell how he reacted to the name 'skipper'.

 

[Jorus Merrill]

[member="Jaxton Ravos"]
"Eh, screw the blades, I've got all I need in that department -- but that ship, now. I found an old one, I mean ancient, just rusted away on the seafloor of a planet I shouldn't name. Hammerhead-class or something close enough. Noah Corek flies around in this refitted one, or maybe it's a replica." The droid looked familiar, but he couldn't place it. He fished through his pockets and procured mostly lint. "Didn't come prepared for a swap meet."

After a long moment, he broke into a grin and rattled off a string of numbers. "Coordinates to a deep-space dump site of mine. The last Supreme Chancellor contracted me to hide captured Dark Side artifact clart away from the Jedi, in uncharted places an' such. Force knows I've no need for'em, and they make me nervous, sittin' out there. Should probably be in the hands of folk that know how to handle'em. Since I'm the only one with the coordinates, they'll not be missed for a good while, not that I'm a public man anymore. What ya say, droid, fair trade for the ship plans?"

When it tootled in affirmation, he pulled out the Hammerhead datacron. "I think this is a dang good day," he said."

 

[Velok the Younger]

Oh joy! Oh bliss! The astromech cavorted somewhat, more than satisfied with the trade. That left only the datacron on Force-imbued weaponry. Four items, three trades; that was acceptable, by its owner's standards. Perhaps it would find other customers-

But no, the others appeared to have departed. Momentarily disconsolate, the droid returned to the little freighter for purposes of depositing its gains.