Private I Wonder What Happened to Him | DeWitt

[Sloane Royce-Parker]

The library was near deserted; a weekend afternoon was not a typical time for it to be crowded. A lot of students had already left for the weekend, but not Sloane, who had surrounded herself with a stack of tomes from the shelves. The real things, too, with paper pages and leather bindings and everything, and that distinct smell. The smell of books was among her favorite scents. There was something vaguely vanilla-y about it; something to do with the way the compounds found in wood-based paper broke down. She was sure she had read that -- somewhere. She pushed her spectacles up her nose and leaned over the book she had leaned against a stack, narrowing her eyes intently.

This research was of critical importance. This wasn't for just any class, after all. Professor DeWitt's class was the most important because of his legendary status in the community of archaeological academia. She had met him before; he had spent some time at her parents' dinner table and academic salons, but now she was one of his graduate students and she was determined to be among the students he took on his digs, which meant her papers needed to be flawless.

Everything had to be perfect.

So while her fellow students were enjoying the holiday weekend, Sloane was buried in books. Luckily, she was almost finished -- just a few last minute citation confirmations -- and then she could submit it. Idly she wondered if Dr. DeWitt would be in the office or if he, too, was somewhere enjoying the spring holiday. She made a notation on her datapad and moved to the next cite, her blue-grey eyes narrowing critically at her work.

Half an hour later, Sloane was shelving the last of her borrowed books under the watchful eye of the archivist who seemed to think that the young archaeologist was going to run off with it. She left the library with a freshly printed copy of her paper. The flimsis were still warm from the printed when she arrived at the the professor's office. To her surprise, she heard movement inside. She rapped on the door.

"Professor DeWitt? Do you have a moment?"

Finnegan DeWitt​

 

[Finnegan DeWitt]

There was never a moment's of rest for anyone taking their business seriously.

This went double for Professor DeWitt.

Papers to grade, assignments to create, lectures to lead. That was only a fraction of his responsibilities. It was a good thing that Finnegan was a designated work-a-holic. The only times he was truly alive was when he was doing his job. The totality of it, not just here in the stuffy University, but out there in one dig or the other.

There were several in the pipelines... and oh, he was looking forward to it already.

"Enter." He said after looking up from the latest report out from the Core. It seemed the Alliance had suffered a major defeat. It was certainly wise for him to leave Empress Teta all those years ago. You could never really trust the Alliance to keep their shit together.

"Ah, Miss Royce-Parker." Inclining his head there. "I was made aware you joined my class. Your parents certainly enjoy talking you up." A light glimmer in his eyes before a smile broke in.

"I am certainly looking forward to see what you have to offer me. Is there something I can help you with?"

Sloane Royce-Parker

 

[Sloane Royce-Parker]

The graduate student hesitated on her side of the door, smoothing her trousers with one hand before she turned the knob and let herself in at his invitation. She shut the door behind her and walked in, freezing by the door as he mentioned her parents. "Oh -- I -- I didn't ask them to -- do that," said Sloane, her face blanching at the idea that her parents were trying to smooth her path. "In fact, rather the opposite. But I guess it's such a small universe that flying under the radar was never really going to work, was it? It's nice to see you again." It had been some years since she had seen the professor at her parents' home, and she hadn't been sure he'd even have recognized or remembered her.

Apparently her parents had taken care of that.

"I -- ah -- I just came to turn in my application for the upcoming dig." Sloane pulled the packet out of her messenger bag and held it over the desk to him. "I've always had an interest in the subject matter, but this opportunity got me back into the library to get caught up on the newest developments. Absolutely fascinating."

She handed over the envelope and then closed the flap of her satchel. "I'm trying to get by on my own merits, Professor. I'd love if you'd consider my work as if my name were Antilles," she said earnestly.

Finnegan DeWitt​

 

[Finnegan DeWitt]

Sloane Royce-Parker

It was a rare student that didn't wish or desire any and all advantages given to them. Finnegan wasn't certain if that made Sloane stupid, full of integrity or perhaps... proud. If it was the latter? He could use that. If it was the first two? She'd be discarded by the wayside as quick as possible. Not that Finn would ever put it in those terms to her.

"Oh, you wish to join the dig already? When did you join my class, couldn't be that long ago..." But he didn't check the registration. They both knew when she had joined the university and joined his class.

"I enjoy boldness, miss Royce-Parker. And enjoy competence. I will review your work, but frankly it must be remarkable. You joining in would mean cutting the line in front of several students that have been jockeying for it much longer than you."

It was not a no however.

She knew that her mother had been Finn's closest confidant in his own University days. In fact, Finn was the one who introduced her parents to one another, seeing her father as closest to a brother that Finnegan could have.

No matter her desires... that would always play a role.

"Tell me, what do you find the most attractive about going on this digging expedition? The long hours? The discomfort? The lack of proper hygiene and sanitation?"

It didn't mean he wouldn't ride her silly about it until she was certain she wished to come.

 

[Sloane Royce-Parker]

She narrowed her eyes slightly. "I've been in your class since the beginning of term, Professor," she said. Granted, Sloane sat in the back of the class, wore glasses, kept her hair pulled back, and she didn't misbehave. She participated enthusiastically in class discussion, but she didn't expect that to put her on the professor's radar. "And I am just as credentialed as any of the other students in this class. Granted, I got my undergraduate degree at another institution, but the University of Coronet is as real a university as this one."

She clasped her hands in front of her. "You should have the most qualified students with you on the dig and I am one. Important work like this isn't about dues-paying and waiting in line. It's about who is best equipped to do the work."

Sloane unclasped her hands, rested her hands on the back of one of the chairs in front of his desk.

"If I'm on this dig, that wouldn't be my first one. So while these other students will be adjusting to the dirt and the bugs and the camp cots, I've been doing that since I was eleven. I'm an old hand at latrines and camp showers. And besides, there's a lot of hygiene and sanitation you can get out of a sanitary towelette if you know how to use it right." Sloane smiled primly. "Perhaps I could teach you a thing or two, Dr. DeWitt."

Finnegan DeWitt​

 

[Finnegan DeWitt]

Sloane Royce-Parker

He chuckled at the sudden fire she exposed.

That was the kind of energy one needed to get far in life. Be that the corporate boardroom or academia. It also required a certain sense of cutthroatness and Finn wasn't yet sure if she possessed that.

"Oh, would you now?" Bemused at the sudden turning of the fire. "Well, as I am fond of saying, you are never grown enough to stop learning. Perhaps you will teach me a thing or two." He finally opened his datapad and brought up her file. "Great attendance, extra assignments, top grade student... I do suppose Coronet hasn't hold you back indeed."

Finger tips tapped lightly on the desk.

"A research assistant job opened up the other day." Finn said thoughtfully as he studied her. "I suppose if you do come onto this Dig and perform well, perhaps I should consider you for it."

Her parents certainly were advocating for it.

 

[Sloane Royce-Parker]

Sloane wasn't especially attached to the University of Coronet, and she certainly didn't have any posters of their mascot on her bedroom wall. Indeed, she couldn't even remember what the mascot was -- or if there was a mascot at all. She was spending a little too much time thinking about the University of Coronet's mascot. But the point was that there was no shame in having attended the University of Coronet. It was no worse than the University of Qatamer, certainly.

"I don't mean to brag," she answered in response to his mention of the research assistant gig, "But I know my way around the library. I think you'll find that my citations are... impeccable." She leaned over and tapped the envelope she had handed over to him. "Even the more obscure sources -- well, let's just say that I didn't need to cite an epic poem, an ancient journal, and a scholarly holoblog, but I wanted to give you some idea of the quality of my work." Most students would have shied away from these sources, being considered more difficult to correctly cite in an academic paper than they were worth, especially when the information could be cited in easier ways, like scholarly articles.

You know. If you were lazy.

"You wouldn't regret it, Dr. DeWitt," Sloane said earnestly. "As I'm sure your notes will reflect, I got perfect scores in all the labs, the simulated digs." Not like that idiot Karensky who put his hammer through the pot. What a clod. "If I could ask -- have you narrowed down the location of the next dig?" Sloane leaned forward, obviously interested.

Finnegan DeWitt​

 

[Finnegan DeWitt]

Sloane Royce-Parker

He smiled as he watched the envelope currently being tapped meaningfully.

"And you enjoy a challenge, I see." Indeed most people would have stuck to simple dry academia. It wasn't just about the ease of sourcing it. It was also less risky. When you began to source and quote from second or third sources you took on the responsibility to ensure it was all factual and perfectly backed up. There was less of a need of that when an academical paper was being quoted, because presumably it wouldn't have landed in the paper if it wasn't backed up with facts.

This assumption killed some students however... but that was a different discussion.

"I will pay very keen attention to your citations, miss Royce-Parker, worry not." Softly pulling the envelope to him and putting it with the rest of his grading work.

In truth most of this was just... appearance sake. Certainly Sloane wouldn't have liked to find out that her parents already got her the job. So, he put her through the wringer and made her feel like she had earned it. Finn did not doubt she could earn it on her merits. But if he only looked at her merits, then about half a dozen students would have come in front of the line.

Not because they were better.

But because they were not afraid to use their parents' connections to try and cater favor with him.

"Tash-Taral." Finn would respond after a moment of thought. Measuring her appropriately. "The Korriban of the Wild Space, it is called. Most of the sites have been picked clean properly."

Then Finn smiled.

"But I have my connections. We have discovered several hidden locations that could prove rather interesting. But you know what they say about holy Sith worlds, miss Royce-Parker... they worship death and suffering. We will face not just unpleasant things... we will face deadly things too."

 

[Sloane Royce-Parker]

Sloane's eyebrows knitted together. She could think of worse places than Tash-Taral. Hot, but at least dry. That made hygiene easier, after all, and no humidity to play havoc with her hair. "My undergraduate degree had a course on Sith burial customs. Not necessarily a concentration on Tash-Taral, but I think it's a better baseline than nothing, no?"

She rocked back on her heels and folded her arms across her midsection, her fingers tapping at her sides. The prospect of facing danger wasn't necessarily appealing to her, but she wasn't about to let it put her off, either. "You don't need to worry about me, Professor DeWitt. If you decide I can join the dig, I can take care of myself. I've been studying Teräs Käsi since I was ten and I own a blaster. Well, two blasters, but that's beside the point. The point is I wouldn't be an added burden."

The student canted her head to one side, adopting a thoughtful, faraway look. "Is there anything in particular you're after? I didn't think that these kinds of artifacts were in demand in the museum circuit," Sloane ventured, looking through her lashes across the desk at him. "But you know what they say: Sith artifacts never go out of style in the, ah... private collection market."

Finnegan DeWitt ​

 

[Finnegan DeWitt]

"Oh, yes, that will be rather helpful." He murmurs thoughtfully. Not as helpful as having gone through several Sith tombs and coming out alive on the other hand, but a person had to start out somewhere. Finnegan didn't begin as a grizzled tomb raider. No one did. But he wondered what her parents would think of it if they knew the actual risks of what she was signing up for.

"I don't think you are an added burden." Finn added after a moment in reassurance. "I am just cautious about who I allow on my digs, miss Royce-Parker. But I think you will be a splendid addition."

She proved as much when she came to the heart of the matter... in record time.

Finn smirked.

"Indeed." It was not strictly legal. In fact, one might say it is highly illegal. When an archeologist came across any dangerous Sith artifact, they were meant to notify the local authorities and then loop in the Jedi chapter currently overseeing the site of the discovery. "And so discretion is very much important in situations like these."

Almost purred there with quiet confidence.

"Especially if we wish to find the..." He licked his lips. "Star of the Crimson Sea." It was a legend really. The last King of Korriban had send it off-planet right before the Galactic Republic of old invaded his kingdom and wiped out the Sith Pureblood of the time.

Anyone who found the Star would be the most celebrated archeologist of all time.

They'd also be hunted by the Jedi until they gave it up, of course, but that's why Finnegan wasn't looking for publicity.

Sloane Royce-Parker

 

[Sloane Royce-Parker]

Sloane's stomach leapt into her throat at the mention of the Star of the Crimson Sea. A long and storied tradition in the field, it was largely considered to be legend -- a kind of hazing for junior archaeologists. That, and demanding that they produce a brush in a size that doesn't exist and busting their chops when they couldn't find one.

Classic.

"Surely that's -- everyone knows the Star of the Crimson Sea is -- well," she said, her head canting to one side as she tried to remember what she knew about it. "An exaggeration, if not apocryphal, right?" Sloane frowned, turning to pace away from the desk, slow and thoughtful. "I mean, everyone has a story about it, and there's that intriguing historical analogue -- some kind of thrilling last-minute escape by the last King of Korriban sending it offworld for safekeeping -- all that stuff -- but has anyone in living memory even seen it?"

She turned back to him, went to the chair again, her hands clasping the back.

"You wouldn't make any friends with the goody-goodies of the galaxy if you did somehow manage to recover it... although I guess what they don't know won't hurt them."

Finnegan DeWitt​

 

[Finnegan DeWitt]

Sloane Royce-Parker

He smiled broadly as he watched her expression.

From the realization of what he was referring to and then trying to make sense of it. It was beautiful. This was the same reaction Finn went through when he was tipped off a few weeks ago about this. "Oh, I am sure there are people who have seen it." Then a pause there. "I just don't think most of them have survived to the tell the tale... until now."

It was probably a concerning admission, but Finn preferred to be honest about these things.

"Three weeks ago a bunch of mercenaries with an old connection to the Levantine Sanctum surfaced in one of the Shanty Towns of Tash-Taral. Stories about a temple they discovered out in the desert, you know how it goes." He picked up a datapad and offered it to her. It had the story, the coordinates, and the rest of it.

"Soon before long the members of the expedition began to drop dead one by one. Apparently they discovered something they shouldn't have. One of them escaped off-world before the Star's Doom - ridiculous name, of course - overcame him. He found sanctuary with a local Huttese Crime Lord who promptly extracted the secret from him."

By way of a Bor Gullet if stories were true.

"Hutts aren't the brightest creatures... just the greediest. Word about this has leaked further down the grape vine until it reached yours truly." He shrugged there after finishing spinning this story.

"So you see. This expedition I am setting up will consist of two phases. Phase One is setting up a regular dig far away from all of this to keep my students busy. Phase two is going inland, dodging bounty hunters and worse, to try and get to the Star first."

 

[Sloane Royce-Parker]

Sloane's eyebrows lifted. "It takes a special kind of driven -- or sheer insanity -- to run toward something that is called the Red Doom," Sloane observed thoughtfully. "Then again, anyone who grabs that thing and lives to tell the tale will be in it for millions. Each." She glanced at him, her blue-grey eyes twinkling mischievously.

There was something exciting about it. Even if the nature of the find -- and what DeWitt obviously intended to do with it -- made it so that he would never be able to publish about it, and thus earn no official academic notoriety, the archaeology universe was a small one. Everyone who mattered would hear the story, everyone would know.

It would be enough to put her name on the map. People would know her for the part she played, not her pretentious double-barreled surname bequeathed by her parents. Even as a tiny footnote to DeWitt's story, it was the best chance she had to make a name for herself.

"Smart," she concurred. "Well, do I need to beg, Professor? I want in on Phase Two."

Finnegan DeWitt​

 

[Finnegan DeWitt]

Sloane Royce-Parker

"In this career... you shouldn't just be be ambitious, miss Royce-Parker. You must be just a bit crazy." Because the hours were shite, the pay was almost non-existent and the amount of work could be back-breaking. That was the reason why Finnegan... did what he did. He was not satisfied with just turning in papers, discovering artifacts that would be put in museum and surviving on congratulations.

No, he wanted more. A life of leisure and luxury punctuated by the thrill of danger.

He smiled finally. "Beg? No, not at all. I wouldn't be telling you this if you weren't my choice for Phase 2." Finn left in the middle that if she had known about this without being an active participant, he'd have had to-

Well, it didn't matter.

"Pack your bags and your guns, Sloane." Using her first name for the first time. "You are going to Tash-Taral... on a little adventure with me."

 

[Sloane Royce-Parker]

Sloane's jaw dropped fractionally.

She hadn't expected that to actually work; of course, she had no idea that her parents were behind it all. The graduate student beamed across the table at the professor, a megawatt smile to convey her megawatt enthusiasm for the project. "Really? Oh, you won't regret it, Professor DeWitt, I promise you." She grinned across the desk at him for a moment before turning toward the door, but almost immediately turning back.

"I can be ready in an hour or two -- when do we leave? And from where?"

Already her mind was racing through the things she needed to do before leaving: alert her roommate, tell her parents, pack her tools and clothes and guns, hold her mail, etc. "Is there anything else we need before we leave? Maps, books, equipment, whatever? I assume the university would be reimbursing any expenses?"

Finnegan DeWitt​

 

[Finnegan DeWitt]

Sloane Royce-Parker

It was nice to see her be so enthusiastic about it.

Brought him back to his early years as a student. He had been so full of hope, so optimistic. Of course, life had a way of crushing and grinding that down until there was only pragmatism and sheer grit left. But that was simply the way things were in this Galaxy. Sloane would find that out sooner rather than latter.

Especially if she was to be part of this expedition.

"We leave as soon as you are ready." He said simply as he began to put his books away. "I was already planning on getting on a ship at the end of the day."

Finn chuckled as he slung the bag over his shoulder and joined her at the door. "Just get yourself ready. Everything is paid for, everything is handled. This is a professional dig, miss Royce-Parker. You merely need to worry about your own equipment." That was the beauty of it all. He could focus entirely on Phase two and Phase one was handled by the university.

Beautiful.

"I will meet you at the landing pad. There will be a shuttle that will transport us to the starport. Most of the others are already making themselves at home for the journey."

 

[Sloane Royce-Parker]

Sloane took it all in and then with a nod, she left the office, nearly sprinting down the corridor toward the stairs.

It took her a surprisingly short amount of time to prepare for the journey. She filled a large rucksack with clothes, mostly shorts and short sleeve or sleeveless tops that would be good for a desert environment. She packed toiletries, too: powerful sunscreen, low-water washcloths, soap, and toothpaste. Deodorant, feminine products, odds and ends like moisture gatherer and water bottle. She empties her messenger bag and filled it with her toolkit. The tools had been a gift from her parents; they were obviously of extremely solid quality. She expected they had cost the earth, but a solid investment.

Her comlink, he datapad, and a travel clock and photo frame, and she was ready to go.

Forty minutes door to door wasn't too bad, she thought, and so it was that she hustled at the landing pad, barely out of breath, and having changed into a sensible travel outfit of comfortable leggings, a plain white tank top, and a functional brown jacket. Sloane boarded the ship and stowed her bag with the rest. Finally she emerged into the passenger compartment of the ship and found Dr. DeWitt.

"Reporting for duty, Professor," Sloane said.