Lost Boy

[Allyson Locke]

Sullust was a temple she rarely visited, but with her wandering for the most part, Spencer decided to take some time to visit this particular temple. The buildings have appeared in many dreams leading up to this day. Like the old saying goes, the Force works in mysterious ways and today wasn’t going to be any different. The woman met up with one of the older Masters who acted as a caretaker for the younglings. She gave a brief speech along with other talks to young to older students of the temple. Nothing struck her curious, so she figured the Force just wanted her to make an appearance and change someone’s life or something along those lines with the talks she had given. “Master Varanin, you can use one of the rooms in the temple to retire to” Spencer nodded and looked out one of the windows and realized that evening had fallen.

Taking the offer, Spencer wandered towards one of the rooms and packed her items away. The bed was stiff and she remembered the bed she had to use while living at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. Sighing softly, she remembered the temple and wondered what happened to that old bed of hers. Deciding to not worry too much on the past, she rolled her side and stared at the book shelf that remained empty. Dust had gathered which meant that this particular dorm room hadn’t been used in ages. It was sad knowing that most Jedi weren’t attending the Temples anymore, they were whisked away by most rogue masters or even tempted by the dark side.

The woman smiled slightly remembering how she was whisked away from the temples and joined the side of one of the Sith Empress’ in her journey to the throne. Spencer sat up as she counted on her fingers how long ago that was and wrinkled her nose. It had been ages since she had been a padawan roaming the halls at night in search of the archive. The thought brought her to her feet and she pulled a traditional robe over her spacer clothing and decided to wander in search of the archives.

Tap. Tap. Tap

Halls filled with the echo of her leather boots as she briskly walked down each corridor as if she knew exactly where she was going. The force dreams she had previous nights suddenly made sense. Turning a corner, she found the archive and slipped in.

Soft lights came into contact with Spencer as she found herself in a place she had spent many late evenings hiding in. There were several questions that lurked in the back of her mind, she wondered why she was here, she wondered what she would find and if they still had the story of some of her favorite old jedi. Lips pressed together as she fought back a squeal of delight as she jogged lightly towards the biographies. A finger touched the spines of the archive data pads, she searched through the names and soon found hers. Blinking slightly, she was curious as to why she would have something written about her, she was no one important.

Flicking through it, she found tales of things she had done in her youth - her betrayal to the Order, her love affair with a Sith Empress, and her exploits during the Netherworld chaos. Frowning slightly, the author stretched some of the truth, but she was pleased with how the visual artist drew her. Smirking, a bit of ego inflated and she continued to read the story of her and how to some she was considered something powerful...yet an overzealous sweet tooth. A whisper broke the silence as she read the bit on her love for sweets and cakes, especially a comment from a woman named Braith about how Spencer had rescued her by mentally invading the minds of the attackers and causing them to fall before the woman. Then in the aftermath, she pulled a small bag of chocolates from her side and offered them to the traumatized witness. “Oh it wasn’t that bad...geez they make me out to be a sociopath…”


[member="Oscar Grant Paxon"]

 

[Oscar Grant Paxon]

Not many people believed that everything happened for a reason nowadays. The Old Republic's Jedi Order's beliefs had turned into something Jedi rarely acted on, their core values had turned into worthless nothingness, meaning there were only few people who still valued those things. The Galactic Alliance was one of the most liberal about their Jedi Order, the boy knew that. And even though he believed in the old ways of the Force, he was still there.

Because the Force told him to do that.

Some might have called the boy a religious fanatic, an extremist Jedi, a Padawan who doesn't have a life. But he knew that none of that mattered. He believed in what he believed and let others believe in what they believed -- as simple as that.

Oscar was afraid of going to bed. He had had a horrible nightmare last night and he was surely not looking forward to seeing one again that night. He had a strange thing about repeating vision-dreams. If they came into his dreams one night, they sure did the same the next and the night after that. It was just the way things went.

Go to the archives, one of his voices had said. It was actually a really nice thing to do, considering how he was doing his best to avoid sleep. Most of the time the voices spoke of ill nonsense, but every once in a while they sparked awesome ideas and grand schemes. They may not have been the most clever and brilliant ones, but his schizophrenic brain couldn't really distinguish the good from the bad that well.

That is why he relied so heavily on the Force.

Truth be told, the boy had not expected to see anybody else in the archives that late at night. Some librarians, yeah, but not a person flipping through books. There was a figure who looked much like a woman, searching through one of the documentations. He couldn't tell what it was about or who the woman was, but he was intrigued.

You better talk to her, the voices inside the Padawan's head couldn't remain silent. Even better, sneak up behind her.

During his lifetime, he had managed to learn not to reply to those voices. That wasn't the hardest part of his mental illness, though, because distinguishing real voices and imaginary voices was much more of a trouble. He'd managed to learn that as well, but definitely not to the same degree.

I'll talk to her sooner or later, he finally thought to himself while marching to a random shelf in the other side of the room while still keeping the woman in sight. Something about her felt odd. The Force was trying to tell him something, he was sure of that.

[ [member="Spencer Varanin"] ]

 

[Allyson Locke]

Spencer continued to flip through the biography and her frown continue to grow as she read a few more paragraphs about her personality and the like. Someone else was in here with her, she pretended as if she didn’t notice them, but she could feel their eyes on the back of her mind. When she focused on the presence she sensed more than one, but that was just through her mental prodding. She raised an eyebrow and did her best to remain focused on the horrendous biography of herself, Spencer couldn’t tip off the night time visitor that she was well aware of their presence.

Closing the biography she sighed, despite the things she had done her exploits and most of her more questionable moments in her life were the focus of the book. It read more like a half baked scandal novel than a biography of her life. Shaking her head, she placed it back into the shelf. As it slipped through she noticed that Ashin’s was nearby and being the hopeless romantic she was, she defied the laws of the archives and placed her small biography next to Ashin’s ‘epic tale’. A nosologic sigh and she returned to scanning for Bastila Shan’s biography, well for the most part...her attention was more on the individual that was lurking around the other shelves.

It was obvious they weren’t going to be polite and introduce themselves, so Spencer decided to play a little game with them. The mentalist focused her mind and searched through the force for the other mind nearest to her. Gazing upon it, she realized it was a bit more complicated than she had expected, still it didn't have the best defenses, which the mind belonged to a younger student of the force or a brute that didn’t believe in mentalism. Either way it was time to have fun.

Feeling the different personas that were floating around, she focused on the one that seemed to be more ‘stationary’, quietly she spoke through the force in the back of his mind.

Who are you?

[member="Oscar Grant Paxon"]

 

[Oscar Grant Paxon]

One thing that distinguished Oscar from most other people was the fact that telepathy was a somewhat unique concept for him. Voices inside his head talked nearly constantly; and what's worse -- the voices always changed, making it impossible to hear the exact same voice twice. There were so many little nuisances and details about a voice that constantly changed, forming completely new ones.

That is why telepathy, particularly telepathic conversation, didn't necessarily work at him at all times. He could hear another person's voice in his head, but in most cases, he couldn't distinguish real telepathic voices from the schizophrenic ones. Maybe it was a skill he could learn in the future, but at the moment it was a real struggle.

So yes, telepathy was odd with him in most cases. But that didn't mean he couldn't hear this one particular voice.

Who are you?​

​

And the boy was confused. Upon hearing this sound of an intruder's voice, all others seemed to back down, fade into the background, completely dissolve even. The voice was so dominant that it spoke louder than any other.

Yet he didn't understand what it was.

What the kark? he thought to himself, unbeknownst to the fact that the woman he was looking at was the one who was mentally talking to him right now. I'm Oscar.

Confused as to why a voice in his head wouldn't know his name, he tried to ignore it and continue searching through the shelves. This particular shelf mainly held history books, talking about the ages of old and gold and of both the failure and success of different organisations. One talking about the most recent Sith Empire was the one which caught his eye, though.

Not that he could focus on the book, though, as the woman was much more intriguing.

[ [member="Spencer Varanin"] ]

 

[Allyson Locke]

Spencer hid her amusement, she could sense his confusion and that was where she was finding her amusement. It was obvious the boy had never dealt with someone inside of his head before, but was accustomed to something else. Spencer decided to keep the game up, she was always open for fun especially now when he was so inexperienced with this sort of interaction. No one ever said she was a good teacher…

His mind betrayed him as his attention was caught by a book on the Sith Empire. Remembering this book, she knew her name was mentioned somewhere along the lines of the Sith Empress Darth Desmus- who was in fact her master and after the fall of the Empire became her wife. Memories of that time seem so long ago, but Spencer tried to remind herself that she hadn’t aged that much. Responding back to him, she continued the small game.

Hello Oscar.​

The other voices, she could feel them around her presence, but using her own mental prowness, she kept them at bay for the time being. Having them interfere would only confuse the boy further and ruin her game. Focusing on what caught his attention she smirked and then responded once more.

My name is in that book.​

Can you figure out who I am?​

Let’s play a game.​

A game. A game of guess who and Spencer knew she was going to have to give him some sort of clue where to start. The last Great SIth Empire had a long history of rulers, Ashin had been the one before the last of the dynasty of Sith Lords. In turn, Spencer had been groomed to take over, to take her place - but the one that never fell to the dark side would never be able to rule.

I was never a Sith.​

I was the right hand of the Empress.​

I was the prized Lamb that sat upon the Lioness’ lap.​

Can you tell me my name?​

​

Spencer’s nose wrinkled as she thought back her words, she might have gone too overboard with the riddle, but in the end it had a poetic sound to it and she would just leave it - mostly to make herself more eerie and kind of cool sounding.

[member="Oscar Grant Paxon"]

 

[Oscar Grant Paxon]

A game? Oscar wasn't much of a riddle specialist, but his mind still shifted to the book, trying to find the name. None of the names in the book held any meaning to the boy. They were just titles, some fancy ways over-ambitious Sith Lords called themselves and how they wanted others to know them. The old magnificent Sith Emperors, now nothing but a page in a book...

Right hand of the Empress... Well, at least he could exclude all male rulers. And like said, the person was not a ruler herself, but a right hand for one. Most of the Empresses in the book had their assistants mentioned right beside them, so it was no easy task.

But it was very unlikely she would be in the beginning of the book. Even a Sith Lord or their right hand wouldn't live so long, especially after the destruction of the faction. So he narrowed the options down even further, now only focusing on the Empresses in the last pages of the book.

Many Darths were there, but one named Desmus felt slightly more promising. She had truly been a powerful ruler, one to keep the Empire under control; one to conquer world and lead the Sith with a mighty hand as they expanded and spread chaos throughout the galaxy. Whether she was the Lioness to which the mysterious person was a Lamb or not, he couldn't tell yet.

There were some other Empresses. He couldn't choose. He couldn't pick only one of them. Yet he didn't know what would happen to him if he were to screw up. He had to take a risk. So he had to go with the most likely answer.

Spencer?

[ [member="Spencer Varanin"] ]