Public A Large Pile Of Sith Books On Fire

[Saga Merrill]

THULE​

A pyramid-shaped holocron popped in the flames. Shards of red crystal skittered off Saga's hands to melt little holes in the snow that leaked through gaps in the roof. He left off shoveling Sith books onto the stack and gave the increasingly aggressive fire some respectful space.

He'd come to this cold, arid planet to salvage ancient droid factories. Trapped in a ruin by a blizzard, he'd resorted to burning such fuel as was available: to wit, a big cache of moldering Sith books. The arcane fumes, no doubt, would have wrecked his lungs if he had lungs.

Between the fire, an electrostaff, and a voluminous trenchcoat, Saga felt optimistic about making it through the night to salvage again come morning.

 

[Saga Merrill]

The fire was warm, but was it warm enough? Saga eyed his remaining stockpile of burnables and hefted a very large ornate book, bound in silver and black leather. Its title, so far as he could interpret it - his past as a salvage droid had included a basic Sith language interface - read Irreplaceable Secrets of the Deepest Nightmares.

In search of additional heat and light, Saga deposited the large book in the heart of the flame. It caught fire immediately, with gratifying results. A cheerful warmth filled the snow-choked ruins. Saga felt much better.

 

[Drane T'keen]

Thule. A place for fools if they were looking for adventure without contemplating the dangers. A Force nexus of a planet and, on the spectrum, it tended to cater more to dark than to light. Few regions for habitation, with a barren surface that mostly covered it, blackened and bludgeoned.

Canyons and craters, with clouds grey as rain that hovered, and wind bound to pick up in an instant to surround the rock and the plain, and cause the wayward adventurer to wonder why they ever came.

Yet it wasn’t for naught that one Sith had come to this planet. He was on a mission. On expedition bound. For now, he just wanted to get to that ruin in the distance, whose light appeared to beckon him.

Firelight, by the smoke rising from the roof, and no surprise given the condition of ruins. Treasure. Secrets. The Sith would leave his expectations at the door as he moved forth. Just give me the promise of warmth.

He was dressed for the weather, with thick coating over armor, and a helmet that hid his visage, but facing the elements as long as he did made certain of the need for a break.

“Hello?” Drane exclaimed as he approached the chamber of the flame, emerging from the rampant blizzard. “Don’t suppose you have soup. I love a good cup of soup in weather like this.”

Saga Merrill

 

[Saga Merrill]

Saga's head snapped up as Drane T'keen came into the snowy ruin. That was a humanoid in armor, Saga judged, not a fellow droid. The request for soup confirmed it. Alas.

A holocron's internals went off like popcorn or firecrackers. "Welcome," said Saga. "I did see some fossilized food, but it burned better than it would have tasted. I'm sorry to say there's no soup to be had."

An idea struck him.

"Unless, of course, you want to stew some of these toasted scroll fragments in melted snow. I think I saw a Sith shield that would serve as a pan."

 

[Drane T'keen]

As Drane came further into the chamber, discovering his droid host destroyed his hopes for soup to soothe his bones. Well...shit.

The firecrackers from the fire sounded like his counterpart had been burning wet wood before resorting to paper. At the suggestion to stew the latter with snow and have it served on a makeshift pan, the guest in the room determined whether his newfound companion was actually serious.

“No thank you,” the Sith politely declined. “I don’t think ingesting scrolls whole or fragmented is the ideal way to learn arcane spells. Unfortunately for me.” If only it was that simple.

Noting the electrostaff, Drane began shifting some better preserved books farther away from the flame with his boot, standing in between them, holding his hands toward the fire.

“What brings you here?” Sith books for a Sith made sense but what of his circuited friend? Sparks sputtered from the flames just then. It was no towering bonfire but large enough to hide what was in its center.

A snap, crackle, pop, like something other than wood or food or books made. "Wait..." Plenty of books. But no food. And no wood. "Is that..." The Force in his hand, Drane levitated the object from the fire. "...A holocron." What used to be one, anyway.

Saga Merrill

 

[Saga Merrill]

"A holocron? Yes, I think so. It must have been mixed in with the fuel."

Saga had a woodpile of sorts, a dwindling stack of unburned books. Judging that the blaze's core temperature was trending down by an average of point zero one degrees per second, he grabbed an autographed box set of Palpatine's Dark Side Compendium, including a secret fourth volume, and hucked it into to the heart of the fire.

"I'm here investigating Thule's ancient droid factories," he said conversationally. "But it's such a cold night."

Drane T'keen

 

[Drane T'keen]

A great flame, arcane fumes, strange noises, an open roof where snow drifted through, and a droid with a pile of books to burn. It was a peculiar sight in its own right, but it made sense for anybody to burn anything in a blizzard on such a cold night.

With that stack of books, a few of the fallen ones that had scattered had been pushed back by a boot, and apparently the fire’s caretaker did not mind. The majority of these things were rotted and ruined after so long in these ruins.

A holocron, though, well that was another story entirely.

“To think…” Drane sighed into his helmet, and if not for it then his breath would be frozen, like his sunken hopes and dreams. “Had I arrived moments ago then I might have this treasure still intact.”

The droid spoke no less composed, like this holocron and that compendium were like wet wood and fossilized food, missing the point of the conversation.

“Mind if I root around your stockpile before you burn any more from it?” Broken remnant of holocron on the ground, the Sith didn’t wait for an answer as he sifted. Maybe there was another.

Saga Merrill

 

[Saga Merrill]

Saga positioned himself between the stockpile and Drane T'keen , within easy reach of the electrostaff.

"While I wouldn't care about another holocron, of course...I worry. You clearly have both Sith abilities and Sith interests, so you probably ascribe a different sort of value to my stockpile than I do. How could I be confident you would take only things I do not need for burning?"

The question wasn't entirely rhetorical, which was relatively clear from Saga's tone. He was open to actual answers.

 

[Drane T'keen]

Oh, so it turned out that the circuited entity did actually care about its quarry, or at least as far as a Sith was concerned. If these books were worthless to the droid, what sort of different value did a Sith indeed make of them?

Drane had made his way to said pile of books, to rummage through them, when his approach was interrupted by the droid, so he refrained—for the moment.

Worry. A droid like this did not use that word lightly. It scorched Sith artifacts, spoke Sith adjectives, but it did not yet appear to be any servant of the light so much as a pragmatist. Confidence.

“Perhaps we are already at an impasse,” Drane spoke casually and honestly. “Apparently you needed that holocron for burning and, if I find another one, I most definitely intend on taking it before another one burns again.”

He gestured to the moldering books. “Palpatine. Nihilus. Bane. Darth Karkface. Well, you’re welcome to them. Just don't get in my way. Okay?”

Saga Merrill

 

[Saga Merrill]

"I should speak more plainly" said Saga, shifting to keep between Drane T'keen and the pile of as-yet-unburned books. "My goal tonight is to keep from freezing solid. I do that by burning what is available - in this case, books. Their status as fuel is their only value to me. A crystal-and-circuitry holocron has minimal value as fuel and, if you find another, I have no objection to you keeping it. I would object very strongly to you saving books that I need for fuel.

"We have clarity. Now - does there turn out to be an impasse at all, or do we simply suffer a cold night, a light misunderstanding, and a suboptimal situation for the both of us?"

 

[Drane T'keen]

Impressive. Truthfully, Drane had taken less offense than he had given room for defense. As a test? He did already expect that this counterpart had no knowledge of that holocron being tossed into the fire to begin with. The droid had even admitted that it must simply have been mixed in.

Yet, the electrostaff, the droid’s advance, and its sentiment of Sith being bad business, perhaps, well, that was another matter.

The mechanical thing spoke as plainly as ever, with no discrimination of structure, and it seemed that between both beings’ speech they were beginning to understand each other.

“We have clarity.” The Sith smiled, pleasantly, behind his helmet, despite the droid not being able to see it. “We suffer together, a misunderstanding, and we have plenty of paper to make that fire grow higher.”

Sensing and settling that this droid had no means to prevent him, unless he interrupted its mission for preservation, Drane began digging through the books.

“Here,” he tossed over what was now little more than a paperweight. “The Grave of Krayt.” Another broken codex. "The Visions of Vitiate. Half its pages are missing. Go figure."

Saga Merrill

 

[Saga Merrill]

Saga shuttled the first straight into the blaze and held the second up to the light. "Judging by the biological traces and discoloration on the remainder, I suspect the missing pages were used as toilet paper. One imagines this 'Vitiate' gazing into the future. One wonders if his visions terminated in a sphincter."

He shoved the fragmentary book into the hottest part of the fire, scorched his steel hands clean, and scrubbed them briskly in melting snow.

"It occurs to me that these books may be releasing more than one sort of energy. I'm given to understand that the organic byproduct called the Force is bound up in certain places and items. Since I doubt my fire is consuming that energy, I'd imagine it's setting it free. Perhaps there's a way for someone like you to draw on that."

Drane T'keen

 

[Drane T'keen]

The Sith paused his search for the moment as he considered his counterpart’s words. “Yes…toilet paper…sphincter…you’ve got it all figured…” Certainly a curious creature. Was it obliviousness in this droid or a voice for amusement?

Turning to the arcane fumes, of which Drane’s helmet and his distance played their part to keep him safe, he could not deny the curiosities of his heart. He had no mind to eat paper, had no immediate need for toilet paper, but he was no sorcerer, either.

“I’m a bit of a simpleton when it comes to the Sith,” he offered, ever honest. “I joined this Order as a warrior, a means to that end, and while I’m sure this ‘energy’ would bring me strength I have no idea how to draw on it short of reading Kylo Ren’s Depression.”

He tossed that one into the fire personally while studying his contemporary. “Navigator, is it? Maybe you can help me navigate. Burn more of these turds, if you’d please. But go easy.”

Thinking his companion would get the reference, Drane began to summon whatever essence to him he may muster. He figured a steady summoning of energy, books burning gradually, would better assist.

“Look for one called The Scion of Sion,” the Sith beckoned. “That one is filled with death and birth. Seems best for my efforts.”

Saga Merrill

 

[Saga Merrill]

"I suppose there's no harm in you reading some of this before I burn it," Saga said, poking through his fuel supplies. "Or using it for its historical hygiene applications either. One kind of biomass burns the same as another. And if it turns out that morning comes, the blizzard ends, and a few books can be spared, you're welcome to take them."

He found a book whose title referenced the Sith in question.

"Here you have Skincare Regimen of Sion," he said, handing it over. "The closest thing so far."

Drane T'keen

 

[Drane T'keen]

One kind of biomass burns the same as the other. For some reason those words echoed in the Sith’s head. He did spy with his little visored eye a few better preserved books to take with him, while those had since been shifted away from the fire and stockpile.

“Skincare Regimen of Sion?” Drane frowned. It wasn’t quite the volume he had requested, but closest. He accepted the gift. “I do wonder how a Sith such as him managed to keep from stinking, given his decomposition and everything.”

His form held together with the Force, with hate and pain, but for what purpose? Where was the fun in it? “Ah, one line has been preserved,” the living Sith shifted his thumb. “Apply an ointment twice a day made of mynock urine…”

At that moment he began to query what the hell he was reading. Into the pit went that reading.

“I feel…like the dark side is calling to me…burning…yearning…” Drane opened his eyes. “Oh. Nope. I simply have wandered too close to the flames.”

Saga Merrill

 

[Saga Merrill]

"Some of my people believe the Force is the song of the ultimate Maker." Saga shrugged. "Personally, I think it's nothing but a bio-energy field. It can be measured with the right instruments based on thaissen crystals. Certain crystalline lifeforms can use it to communicate. Just a field with no intrinsic metaphysical significance other than what people have chosen to give it."

He unraveled a scroll entitled Most Unique and Impossible to Replicate Secrets of the Apex Sith, then rolled it up again and burned it

"But then again, you can see how unseriously I take the whole topic."

Drane T'keen

 

[Drane T'keen]

Drane took a few steps away from the flames, refocusing his energy on the fire’s energy. He could see the fumes, the smoke, sense the ancient text as if the letters and symbols were the very embers, but he just as much felt like he was getting nothing for his efforts.

Song of the ultimate maker… Truly an interesting specimen, this droid. Who were his people to believe in such things to begin with? While the droid went about retrieving more makeshift firewood, Drane wasn’t watching, but surely nothing important was tossed in just then?

“I suppose Jedi and Sith do something similar, choose to place meaning and value on the Force, which obviously differs, otherwise we would not tend to go to war with each other.”

Drane felt something just then, a presence, like a phoenix rising, as smoke rose through the roof, to the snow, while a plume of fumes disappeared toward a corridor. “So...have you explored these ruins or did you just stumble upon these books?”

Saga Merrill

 

[Saga Merrill]

"Oh, I don't think the Sith and the Jedi make war over their differences in values, but because of their similarities. The drive to define the Us in opposition to the Them. The deep sense of superiority in judgment and worthiness toward everyone else. The feeling of what's...deserved. The default to violence in service of all those indubitably valid feelings. The latitude, the right, to enact that violence independently regardless of convention or law."

Saga delivered all this in a conversational tone. A holoprojector in his palm displayed the ruins so far as he had traversed them; several layers of collapses structures from various eras, including a defunct droid factory and various Sith sites that interested him only to the extent of its flammability.

"But that's merely my pet theory. What are your thoughts?"

Drane T'keen

 

[Drane T'keen]

Stepping closer, Drane studied the ruins carefully, gazing into the palm of his contemporary, literally if metaphorically. His eyes were on the display, on sites and a factory and the gaps in between, while his ears were on the conversation.

It was true, the Jedi and the Sith had as much in common as they were different, not least of which was their shared fondness for the Force. How many times did one accuse the other of being arrogant to begin with?

“I think beings of flesh and bone or steel and wire are as different as we are similar,” he offered musingly, though the comparison was not off topic. “On the surface, Jedi and Sith are at odds because of their differences but, yes, deep beneath the creeds and the codes, if not because of them, maybe we are the same at the core. We were once one in the Force, before the split that led to the creation of the Sith, I admit.”

He never expected to enter this chamber wrestling philosophy and would be happy to do so while on the move. “That structure in the center looks a bit more intact than its brothers. I’m no gambling man but I’ll wager that whatever is in there might amount to more than stories of moldy Sith Lords.”

Drane looked toward the corridor from earlier. “And, by fate or chance, it just so happens to be accessed that way.”

Saga Merrill

 

[Saga Merrill]

Saga shook his head so as to be clear. "I've explored what suits my purposes, and have no objection to you exploring further into areas too cold for me to operate at optimal levels. The fire will be here when you return, if that is before ten in the morning based on core temperature and available fuel. My only request is that, if you do venture out and come back, you bring additional flammables if you find them."

Drane T'keen