Private The Bad Knowledge | Loske & Maynard

[Auteme]

Loske Treicolt Maynard Treicolt ​

“-and Rukh says, ‘For the treachery of the Empire against the Noghri people. We were betrayed. We have been revenged.’ Then he stabs Thrawn in the chest and leaves his knife there, then leaves. And as he’s dying, Thrawn just smiles and says ‘But, it was so artistically done.’” Auteme waved her hands around like she was trying to stab a fly. She didn’t know how to stab anything but her food. (She was vegetarian.) “It was cooler in the memoir. Pellaeon is actually a good writer. Not fantastic, but good. Honestly I’ve always wanted to visit the Pellaeon Gardens on Bastion, but… well, you know.”

She had to admit it; she was kind of a fangirl. Thrawn was just so cool. Not the supporting-the-Empire and almost-killed-other-cool-people parts, but he was pretty cool.

Auteme sat back in the beanbag chair she’d put in her favorite corner in the Archives. She had one just like it in her room, only this one was green instead of a denim blue. She always sat in it when she wanted to relax, but she’d had a bit of work to do that night and decided that Loske’s visit to the Temple would be better spent among the bookshelves.

It was always a treat. With everything going on in the galaxy, Auteme knew that sometimes the best thing for these tired soldiers was something normal and silly like recounting the death of an Imperial Grand Admiral from eight centuries ago. Plus it gave time for Loske to rest up a bit. Who didn’t want to vibe in the best reading area in the entirety of the Temple Archives? It was a far cry from the battlefields on Sith worlds. For Auteme, too, it was a good break. She needed to see the people she cared about regularly, else she might get lost in her books or crushed under the heavy gazes of the Galactic Alliance’s senators. Plus, Loske was a great listener, so Auteme could just spew whatever she wanted and Loske would listen.

“Anyways, it’s getting late. There’s a senate meeting tomorrow. Not a big one, but something I should be at. If you stop by, we could grab lunch,” she said, picking up the books she’d collected. “I mean, only if you’re around. I know you’re busy, and stuff.”

She didn’t know much about what was up with the war against the Sith, but she knew that many Jedi -- many she knew -- didn’t have much time to spare to come back and visit the Temple. Grabbing lunch would be a poor excuse to skip a major offensive or battle. It would be selfish to keep others here just because she felt lonely.

She was a little selfish at times.

She stuffed the books into her bag, the whole stack disappearing into the void contained inside. She was always amazed by the thing, and joked that she carried all of her worldly possessions in the bag. Odd, how even that she owned so much more she still carried everything she had in one bag. Life never really changed.

The padawan stepped out into the corridor. At that time in the evening, the daunting stacks of books and information was instead illuminated in a calm light. Aside from the night-shift librarian -- Ms Juncho; Auteme gave her a wave and “Good night” when they passed her putting away the returns -- the Archives were empty. They probably always seemed empty to most people; there were many more Jedi eager to kill Sith than to learn about the galaxy.

They were empty until Auteme spotted someone attempting to access the secure storage area to one side of the archives. It was dangerous, even with all of the artifacts coated in nullification resin, so very few people were given access. Only people who’d scheduled a time and had been approved by the archivists were allowed in.

And nobody had scheduled a time today. Nothing happened in these Archives without her knowing. Except for Ms. Juncho’s obsession with Seoulian holodramas; that had surprised Auteme, and gotten her hooked on Seoulian holodramas. She loved to watch them with Charlie whenever they were just chilling out.

Anyways, the secure storage area.

“Did you see that?” Auteme pointed. “They’re not supposed to be there.”

 

[Loske Treicolt]

"Please visit the Temple more. I miss seeing you guys every day. There are great people there but I... when I go into my room I feel so alone."

Loske did her best to keep her promises. Especially when it was for the well-being of her friends. While Auteme recounted the epic of Thrawn, she smiled along to the story. She loved stories. Frank was often the one telling them, and Auteme's less animatronic voice was refreshing. It was more emotional and passionate in the moments where it counted –– like the death scene.

"So that's it? He died? Couldn't get out of that one then, hm?" The blonde simpered, flipping through a glowing page that was lined with stories of Sith in the past. Why certain artifacts were so near and dear to them, why they left remnants of themselves behind in vessels to be discovered later. It was a selfish pursuit, to look into this. With everything going on, there'd barely been justice done to Maynard's run-in on Foerost. He seemed fine for the most part, but she worried. She told him she worried and he told her not to live in fear. So she tried not to, and instead tried to investigate if she was being irrational or not. Her ability to split focus was commendable, and as far as retention went, it was one of the fast-learning perks of clonedom. Absorbing the words on the luminescent pages was as easy as listening to them from the short-haired girl. The pages usually could be summarized to one thing: Counter strength. The holocrons sought strength, and to rid it, you had to be stronger than the desire of the ancient magics.

"I wonder if that's how he wanted to go. If that's how he expected it, or instead he thought he'd go down in flames on the bridge of one of his ships. That's a very personal death for an admiral."

She closed her eyes and tried to think if she knew of any admirals personally. For as many ships that the Sabers had taken out, and what a nuisance they made against The Sith, she couldn't immediately recount any na––. Aerarii Tithe was perhaps the only one, and solely because he'd made an effort to personally reach out to her and Maynard Treicolt with a bribe in the heat of battle.

When the Padawan suggested it was time to wrap things up, because tomorrow was a big day, Loske slipped the bound volume back to the vacant spot on the shelf she'd taken it from. She was slow to slide it in, pensive on how to broach the next subject. "I've been meaning to ask," she introduced while all of those items shoveled into Auteme's pack, and it barely bulged in response to the intake. It was..curious and Loske partly wondered if there was some sort of Force trick behind it she didn't know about. It was very likely, it seemed there was always some new form of titles or powers she'd never heard of before. "Things have been happening so quickly, I never did..but, back on Foerost you tried to warn me about something. Like you knew something bad was going to happen? What was it?"

They were interrupted by Auteme's alarm and she followed the index of her friend's point. The kiffar didn't know the temple and its regulations half as well as her friend, and might have considered people sneaking about or otherwise was normal. The place was potentially riddled with Force Ghosts anyway. Perhaps even Lanik was roaming around.

Immediately she admitted to her blindness, and put a hand out to slow Auteme lest she race into something concerning. "No, I.." She closed her eyes for a moment. Reaching, searching. What returned was wrong. Pained, confused.

"What's back there where people aren't supposed to be?"