Private White Chicks

[Maeve Linahan]

Maeve was going to school.

She couldn't quite believe it. Not when she'd been briefed by the Jedi Council, not during the shuttle ride to Chandrila, and not even as walked down the shaded boulevard to the university, a satchel bag slung over her shoulder. Maeve had donned a wealth of identities in the past: the ditzy tourist, or the scarred bounty hunter, or the wealthy financier. But never a student. Never a liberal arts major.

White petals floated down into her hair, which she blew out with the roll of her eyes. "Oh, for the love of the Force," she murmured. Ahead, the university loomed like an ancient cathedral. Marble statues, flowering trees and polished spires. A staircase led up to the main hall, where dozens of students loitered and gossiped.

The Chandrilan Institute of Arts.

The only reason she'd been enrolled to the school in the first place was to uncover a Sith artifact, rumored to have been purchased in secret by one of the art professors. Her task was to find and retrieve the relic before it could unleash itself upon the student body or the unwitting faculty. Problem was, Maeve had no idea where to start.

She glanced around the steps outside. Not far, resting against a great oak, she spotted her assigned partner, a Jedi Padawan under Master Noble's wing. Maeve hadn't known much about her, only that Valery believed the girl was best suited for this kind of mission.

Maeve approached her, dressed in a casual shirt and jacket that made her neck itch, and glanced about, checking for eavesdroppers. "Corazona, is it?"

Corazona von Ascania​

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[Corazona von Ascania]

The younger blonde responded with a wide smile, adjusting the beret on her head so that it sat artfully askew.

"Indeed!" She responded brightly, pushing herself away from the broad trunk of the tree her back had been resting against. "Corazona von Ascania." Her full name was supplied with just as much gusto. "You may call me Cora for short. Most people do."

While the Jedi Knight was less than enthused with their task, the Padawan had stayed up all night researching terms like what do art students wear and art student outfit cute. The end result was a carefully chosen cable knit sweater, breezy palazzo pants and low-heeled booties. Tucked under her arm was a stack of sketchpads and textbooks.

Maybe she'd taken her role of student too literally, but Cora was excited to be in an academic environment nonetheless. Art had always held her fascination, but her family had discouraged any interest that did not align with their aristocratic values.

"You are Maeve, correct?" Typically she'd address a Jedi Knight by her proper rank, but that wouldn't do for an undercover mission. Cora took a moment to appraise her mission partner; the elder blonde had refined, pretty features with a steely edge. Valery had assured her that Knight Linahan was experienced as she was reliable. Cora thought that she just looked plain cool.

"Have you any previous experience with art, Maeve?" Cora continued, gleefully hugging the books to her chest. "I'm something of an artist myself, so I'm quite excited to be here!"

"Er—that is-- our task comes first, of course." A bashful smile accompanied her hurriedly hushed voice.

Maeve Linahan

 

[Maeve Linahan]

"Cora," she repeated. "Got it."

She adjusted her satchel bag and began walking on. "And unfortunately, yes. I am."

As Cora would soon find out, Maeve was about as uptight as a constipated nun, and getting lodged into a public university was not helping her mood. Although she'd accepted the mission with grace, that didn't mean she was glad for it, not like Cora was. She didn't feel right in a school environment. On top of that, she hated teenagers and college students, even though some might classify her as the same.

Expecting Cora to keep up with her, Maeve continued towards the double doors into the main building. She did her best to ignore the sounds of gossip from students around them, eyes ahead.

"No," she told a gleeful Cora. "Chances are, you've more artistic talent in your right pinky than I do in my entire body. I'm not exactly what you might call a 'creative' person." She pushed open the doors inside. Instantly, she was hit with the smell of lavender and the sound of more laughter, people crowding the hallway in a rush to get to class.

So, as Maeve often did, she cut a path through them.

"Stay close by me," she said over her shoulder, brushing past a pair of girls, who each glared at her as she did. "The Council made sure to enroll us in the same classes. We have two in the morning, lunch, then two more in the afternoon. Hopefully, one day should be enough for us to figure out who has what we're looking for."

"Do you have your schedule with you?"

Corazona von Ascania​

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[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora hurried to keep up with Maeve, trundling behind the Knight's longer strides. It seemed strange to her that the council would assign someone who had no artistic talent or interest to an art school, but Cora had to consciously remind herself that they were on a mission to recover an artifact. Presumably, Maeve had other talents that would help them with this task.

Still, Cora couldn't help a proud little smile at the mention that she had some measure of artistic ability.

"Oh, yes. I do, it's right-er, hang on-"

Struggling to keep her grasp on the pile of books and supplies—unfortunately, she couldn't find a backpack in time that had enough space and was sufficiently cute—Cora managed to retrieve her datapad. A few awkward taps, and she pulled up the document containing their schedule for the day.

"It appears that our first class is…oh, figure drawing!" She beamed, clearly pleased. "In room L-33…"

Wide blue eyes peered upward to scan the room numbers as they passed by.

"I've been meaning to work on my figure drawing skills, it can be so hard to master the essence of the sentient form." She went on. "I don't think that drawing models from the holonet can compare to the real thing, though."

They came to a stop at room L-33. With an almost irritatingly eager energy, Cora slid the door open.

Inside, students and their drawing canvases were arraigned in a circle around a human male wearing naught but a robe. The moment Cora and Maeve had entered the room, said robe loosened and puddled to the floor before their very eyes.

Cora stilled. Suddenly, her enthusiasm had quieted. Shock filled her soft features, which had flushed beet red upon coming face to…er, face with the completely nude model.

You could see all of it. Everything. All of the everything.

Oh my stars.

Maeve Linahan

 

[Maeve Linahan]

"Figure drawing?" Maeve repeated. "Fantastic."

A thread of sarcasm ran through her tone. By no means was she glad to be attending a course in a subject she had zero talent for, and although most Jedi Shadows were skilled in the art of bullshitting, this was different. Worse, even. Maeve, at least, was grateful she'd been partnered with someone who seemed relatively experienced in the field.

Relatively.

As the door opened, revealing a class filled with students before empty canvases, her focus converged on a man in the center, first draped in a silk robe, and then, well, nothing at all.

Instinctively, Maeve thought to shield Cora's eyes, but remembered they were not that far apart in age and she was not meant to be her ward. They were privileged art students. Seeing naked men was supposed to be a common occurrence… right?

Maeve's head tilted ever so slightly. She felt as much of a blustering child as the padawan beside her now, the tips of her ears burning. "Is it… usually that big?"

"You should've been here last week," said a student, who walked by her with a nauseatingly chipper smile, arms wrapped around a sketch pad.

Maeve resisted the urge to scowl. Only the sight of another, a bespectacled woman with a head of wild curls, pulled her from her reverie. "Ah," they said. "You must be our new transfer students! Please, sit wherever you like. You are in for quite a treat."

Professor Myra, the first suspect on their list, gestured to a pair of open high stools, one of which Maeve took without question. Untouched brushes and a color palette welcomed her, along with a few lingering stares from other curious students.

"Okay, my dear class, a wonderful morning to you all!" Myra began with more cheer than Maeve would've liked. "Today, we will be capturing the visage of the male human body. Our lovely volunteer, Wayland, will be standing in for us." She clapped her hands. "Our class is short, so please, you may begin whenever you're ready!"

Corazona von Ascania​

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[Corazona von Ascania]

"Not…in my experience, no." Cora murmured back, unable to peel her eyes from the focal point of the model.

Until she did, jerking her head to the side abruptly as if she'd just been slapped.

"I mean, erm, not that I'd imagine, no." She fumbled to amend her initial observation as the subject of today's class seated himself generously on a stool at the center of the circle.

Hoo boy. This was going to be a hard lesson.

Clutching her sketch pad for dear life, Cora ducked behind Maeve and slipped into the seat beside her. Her hands trembled as she unpacked her materials, gingerly positioning her pencils at the easel's grooved lip. The flare of red was slowly fading from her face, shifting into a dollish pink blush.

"I've never drawn one live before." The Padawan mumbled to her partner as she wrapped her fingers around a pencil and lifted it to the paper. "A-a model I mean." And also, the other thing.

A quick, almost haphazard swipe from her pencil drew the graceful curve of Wayland's spine as he posed, directly in front of them. The key was to draw a few sweeping lines that captured the gesture of the subject's form, then to build everything else out from there.

Or so her textbooks had said. Cora found the concept frustratingly difficult in practice.

She glanced over at Maeve, perhaps curious about how the elder Jedi's own interpretation was going.

"Do you think that all of the classes will be this…fulfilling?"

Blue eyes blinked owlishly. That wasn't quite the word she wanted to use, but she'd said it anyway.

Maeve Linahan

 

[Maeve Linahan]

"I pray not," Maeve answered Cora, considering their schedule. She was aware art history and photography were involved, which shouldn't have been too difficult, but what did she know? A short glance around the class told her she was surrounded by infinitely more talented students, many of whom had captured the model with unbelievable detail.

Meanwhile, she had no idea where to even start.

"How long have you been an artist?" Maeve asked, searching for some reassurance through Cora. The padawan seemed to have a general idea of what to do. Pencil in hand, the girl had already begun to sketch out what was probably Wayland's… leg?

Maeve couldn't tell. She was just glad Cora, at least, was fitting comfortably into her role as an aspiring artist, whereas Maeve still struggled to find her footing.

Just be grateful you're not having to sculpt him, she thought. On the bright side, she didn't have to take this class seriously. All she needed to do was maintain her cover.

Minutes crawled past them. For Maeve, it felt like an eternity. Waiting and contemplating, a pencil perched between her two fingers, fighting not to cringe every time she swiped it across the canvas. With delicate care, perhaps she might've been able to actually—

"Fifteen minutes left, everyone!" Professor Myra called with a radiant smile, a half-eaten apple in one hand. According to the clock, thirty minutes had already passed. "If you have not already, I would suggest you begin shading—and coloring, if you've chosen to. Remember, I will be evaluating your work once we're finished. No pressure!"

Maeve scowled. No pressure her ass—she could feel it like a weight on her neck, and observing her sketch now, there was no way she'd be able to chalk up something that would satisfy the professor in so little time.

Because all she had so far was a poorly-shaped circle of Wayland's head.

Corazona von Ascania​

​

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

An artist. Maeve had called her an artist. No one had ever called her that before!

"Oh, I've been interested in art since I was young." Pausing in her ministrations on the paper, Cora's eyes rolled upwards in thought. She tried to brush it off casually, but the girl was brimming with energy, especially in her pencil hand as she moved the implement with more confident strokes.

"I practiced when I could, but I was always kept quite busy with my other household duties."

Which was the polite way of saying that father had not approved of her artistic pursuits. He hadn't outright punished Cora for them, but made it clear that there were other tasks that came before her sketch pad.

Discouraged was another word that came to mind.

With a cautious eye so as to not invade her space too much, Cora leaned over to observe Maeve's work.

"Oh, um." A polite smile was what she could manage in this situation, though it didn't make the gesture any less genuine. "That's a lovely start!"

For her part, Cora had completed a very basic sketch of Wayland's form. The proportions were hasty and not exactly accurate, and it was clear that one area in particular had received a specific amount of detail compared to the rest of the piece.

With the clock ticking downward, the Padawan paused to take in her work. Wide blue eyes traveled from Wayland to the sketch, then back to Wayland, and finally, her sketch of him. A heavy crimson flush crept along pale features, and she glanced to Maeve in alarm, hoping that the elder Jedi did not notice where her focus had apparently gone over the past thirty minutes.

"Time's up, everyone!"

Startled, Cora squeaked and dropped her pencil. Upon darting down to retreat it, she bumped her head against the canvas.

Maeve Linahan

 

[Maeve Linahan]

"…thanks." The half-hearted compliment sure went a long way, but Maeve wasn't much reassured. The more she attempted to sketch, the worse it got. By the Force, one look at what she had so far told her everything she needed to know about her skills in art.

They didn't exist.

She scratched the side of her head. Cursing under her breath, Maeve took the pencil and mindlessly sketched out the rest of Wayland's frame, including all three of his legs. The finished piece was more monster than masterwork, but she decided to swallow her pride and let it be. She could, at least, take comfort knowing she wouldn't be the only student to earn poor markings. Because Cora, well...

Maeve was starting to suspect she wasn't assigned to this mission because of her mastery of the arts, because her piece was a mess.

Ignoring the padawan as she knocked her head into the canvas, Maeve watched Professor Myra circle about the room. Clipboard in hand, the woman scribbled and commented over each student's drawing with a radiant smile. It was only when she came upon Cora next that she paused. Blinking once, twice, Myra's smile melted away.

"Oh my stars," she said. "Well, that's just… isn't that… wonderful!"

"I would go so far as to call it brilliant. This may be a figure drawing class, but this, my dear, is art. It's abstract." Myra leaned over Cora's shoulder, adjusting her glasses to inspect the canvas further. "Your emphasis on Wayland's other limb compared to the rest of his body serves as some intriguing commentary on masculinity and how much of society today has taken to valuing a man's size over character! It's quite ingenious."

"Full marks and extra credit to you, Miss Corazona." Myra took a short moment to applaud the young padawan. Meanwhile, Maeve's brow creased like folded paper. She barely understood just what had happened before the professor had moved onto her canvas next, rubric at the ready.

"Uh, well," said Myra, frowning. "That's... something."

The woman scratched a shape that looked eerily like an 'X' onto her clipboard, then moved on to the next student with an almost nauseous look on her face.

Maeve grimaced and murmured, "Are you serious?"

Corazona von Ascania​

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[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora was busy rubbing the sore spot on her head when she felt Professor Myra's presence in her periphery. The Padawan cringed, expecting to be-

"Oh my stars," she said. "Well, that's just… isn't that… wonderful!"

The professor continued on, to which Cora stared dumbly. At first, she thought she was being made fun of. Upon further inspection, it appeared that she'd captured Wayland's third limb in excruciating detail. More importantly, it had been the single most accurately proportioned and lifelike sketch she'd ever produced.

Still, she soaked up the praise like a sponge. Excitement practically beamed through every pore in her skin.

"Yes, that is what I was going for, exactly!"

Cora has no clue that her drawing served as a comment on masculine character and society or whatever. It certainly hadn’t been her intention to inspire some deeper meaning with her art, but if Myra wanted to assign that herself, she wouldn't complain. The blonde just cared that she was being complemented.

By comparison, Maeve didn't seem to be fairing as well. Cora gave her an awkward smile, meant to be encouraging but it likely just came across as smarmy.

"Well, look at it this way…there nowhere else to go but up!"

Cora might have forgotten that they weren't actually training to be art students.

As the class wrapped up, the pair of undercover Jedi began to pack up their belongings.

"I don't think she has the artifact, by the way." Cora whispered lowly as she fitted some pencils into her carrying case. Was it a hunch, or did she just like the fact that Myra had showered her in praise?

Maeve Linahan

 

[Maeve Linahan]

"Well, look at it this way…there nowhere else to go but up!"

"Or out the door," Maeve cut in, slugging her satchel over one arm.

As the clock bell rang, signifying the hour's end, she rose along with the rest of the students and waved a hand. Certain no one was watching, she swept the rest of Cora's supplies into her bag with the Force, and at a finger-flick, zipped it up. "Let's go. I think it's obvious Professor Myra has nothing for us besides a few loose screws."

Following shortly behind the other students and trying her best not to glare at the professor on her way out, Maeve slipped into the hall, expecting Cora to trail at her back. "I should've known we wouldn't find the artifact in a figure drawing class. I don't know why we were assigned it first thing in the morning."

She plucked out their schedule sheet. "Now, Art History? That's promising."

Maeve felt her spirits lift. The first course might've been a waste, but there was still a chance to end things early and head back to Coruscant with what remained of her dignity. Sanity too, perhaps. The noise and gossip of the hall made her ears bleed. How Cora was able to have fun in a place like this, she'd never understand.

"Try not to make too big a show of yourself," she said as they approached their next class. "Our duty is to stay undercover. We find a suspect, get that artifact, then book it. We aren't here to revel. We're here on a mission."

Maeve wore a longer than usual look. Call her bitter, call her disgruntled, call her… well, it didn't matter. She was all of the above.

"You much of a historian?" Maeve asked, one eyebrow raised.

Corazona von Ascania​

​

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

With an overflowing armful of books and drawing implements, Cora scrambled to fall into step behind Maeve. Not even the Knight's disgruntled attitude could bring her down from her praise high.

Well, not entirely. Her lips still twisted into a pout when she was warned not to make a show of herself—which, well, she unintentionally had. They were supposed to blend in, not stand out.

"I don't know much about art history." The Padawan admitted, finding an odd sense of pride in both her lack of interest and knowledge. She preferred the actual artistic execution to some boring lecture. Cora chewed at her bottom lip for meeting Maeve with a decisive nod. "So it should be much easier to keep things subtle!"

Moving alongside a trickle of students, the pair entered a lecture hall and took their seats. Standing at the head of the room was a older Chiss male, dark hair greying at the sides, attired sharply in a button-down tweed coat, dress shirt and tie.

"Good day to you, class. I am Professor Tumaz'mor'diamir, and I teach Art History here at The Chandrilan Institute of Arts. You may address me as Professor Tumaz."

The distinguished teacher appeared quite the opposite of the flowery Professor Myra.

"This guy looks serious," Cora whispered to Maeve, though her focus was drawn to an assortment of antiquities he had arranged across his desk. There was something she could feel, but too faint it pinpoint exactly where it was coming from.

"We will begin today's lesson by exploring how different cultures across the galaxy have used art to revere the concepts most important to them. Now then,"

Professor Tumaz retrieved a small statue that looked as though it had been carved from wood. He held it up to the class, sweeping his severe gaze across the room.

"Can anyone tell me what this is or where it came from?"

Discerning red eyes landed on Maeve.

“You. Tell me what you know of this object.”

Maeve Linahan

 

[Maeve Linahan]

"Nothing we can't handle," Maeve said confidently, finding a desk.

She stayed a masterpiece of composure. Resting in her seat like a statue, she kept her back straight, hands folded in her lap, and with a notebook laid out on her desk, neatly set aside two pencils. Finally, a class she could work with. Art was the bane of her existence, but history? Lecture? All she had to do was sit there, look pretty, and pretend like she knew what she was doing.

Of course, for Maeve, the Force had other things planned.

Professor Tumaz spared no time for pleasantries or presentations. He lifted a statue—probably the ugliest little sculpture Maeve had ever seen—and waved it to the class, which drew out some giggling from the back of the room. It was only when his crimson eyes fell on her that she understood just what a mistake it was to attend this course.

"Um," she said, not sure where to even start at the professor's question.

"It looks like a wood figurine of a… woman?" Or a morbidly obese man. Maeve could hardly tell from where she sat and how small the statue looked in the professor's palm, but if one thing was certain, that figurine had a chest that put Valery's to absolute shame. They sagged like a slow-moving mudslide, and further down, well…

Maeve said nothing more of it. She'd no idea if a reading had been coupled with the statue or if she was supposed to know what the little sculpture was, and if she had been, well, then she knew she was in for yet another ride.

Corazona von Ascania​

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[Corazona von Ascania]

"Hm." Professor Tumaz rumbled. "How astute."

Turning his pointed attention away from Maeve and towards the room as a whole, he continued.

"This, class, was unearthed from Korriban several centuries ago by the famed Zeltron archaeologist, Kiva Droshare. Though its true purpose has yet to be confirmed—and perhaps we may never know—this sculpture is thought to represent, and perhaps impart, fertility."

The professor silenced a trickle of giggles with one flash of his severe crimson gaze.

"As some will tell you, the meaning of art is often up to interpretation. An artist's intentions may not be shared by the beholder. As such, your assignment for this lesson is to discuss among yourselves how you interpret this particular piece. You will submit your findings in essay format by tomorrow."

His steely features stopped the groans just as they began.

Cora turned to Maeve, cheeks flaming as red as the Chiss professor's eyes.

"So, um, nudity seems to be the theme for today." She began, suddenly hoping that they'd be able to wrap this mission up before their assignment was due.

The younger blonde tilted her head towards the front of the room, voice lowered despite being given the time to chat.

"Does that…statue…feel a little odd to you? Besides the obvious, I mean." She frowned. Looking down at her notes, Cora would find that she hadn't written a single word—only a crude interpretation of an already crude statue stared back up at her.

"Where did he say that it came from again?"

Maeve Linahan

 

[Maeve Linahan]

Korriban. The mention of that godsforsaken planet stuck out to Maeve like a needle in her ear, and understanding dawned on her immediately. This was the object they'd been looking for. The stolen relic she'd spent half her morning and a wretched art class to find. Right there, yet just out of reach.

Thoughts faded to nothing as the professor relayed the day's assignment to the class. All Maeve could think about was the artifact and how she might get it. Only the sound of Cora's voice, thin and reedy, pulled her out of focus.

"That isn't just your usual naked sculpture," she said, nodding to the artifact, even as Professor Tumaz tucked it safely back into his satchel bag. "That's the relic we're looking for. Carved from the cursed sands of Korriban. I just never thought it would be related to… uh, fertility." More than likely to compel slaves into conceiving more children, or to help Sith too twisted to love into spreading their seed across the cosmos.

Whatever the reason, it wasn't good and Maeve didn't like it one bit.

"Hey, you," said a voice, and at Maeve's glower, one of the girls seated behind them leaned over their desk and sized her up. "Aren't you a little old to be in this class?" Several students next to her laughed. Schoolgirl bullies, of course.

They'd chosen the wrong time to strike. Maeve didn't even hesitate as she replied curtly, "Aren't you a little young to be smoking spice?"

The affronting girl gasped, then huffed into her palm to check her breath. Red in the face now, she slunk back into her seat and to the muffled whispers of her friends. Maeve was not having it. After Myra's class and this ridiculous lecture, she was about to tear some heads off, and if it meant getting a hold of that artifact, she'd very well do it.

Corazona von Ascania​

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[Corazona von Ascania]

"Maybe he was only joking?" Cora offered, feeling awkward for even mentioning it. "Or maybe that Zeltron archaeologist was wrong." Her tone was a little more decisive, given what she knew about Zeltrons and their preoccupation with…actions of a certain nature.

At any rate, she was at least pleased that her instincts had been right. Or that Maeve seemed to agree with them.

Hairs at the back of her neck pickled at the Hey, you. Cora stiffened, heart thumping fast. Intent was conveyed in two, snide little words and-

Aren't you a little old to be in this class?

-oh. She wasn't the target. Cheeks burning, her gaze slid over to Maeve, noble decorum the only thing keeping a sharp wince at bay in the face of snotty girlish laughter.

"Aren't you a little young to be smoking spice?"

Undeterred, Maeve fired back without missing a beat. Cora's hand flew to her mouth, shocked by how sharply Maeve's reprimand came, but also impressed with how easily she'd stuck up for herself. The Jedi Knight didn't seem nervous at all.

In fact, she seemed rather irate.

As the bully sulked, Cora noted the chrono on the wall, and the meandering of several chattering students towards the lecture hall door. Turning back to the mean girls, she offered them a pleasant, courtly smile.

"Goodness, I certainly hope that your habit hasn't interfered with your ability to absorb today's lesson."

Glancing over to Maeve, she tilted her head towards the door.

"Perhaps we should go to the library to work on our assignment. I can imagine that the air there is cleaner."

They had their mark. Now all they had to do was extract the strange little statue.

Maeve Linahan

 

[Maeve Linahan]

Maeve gave a tiny smirk as Cora also shot back at the girls behind them.

They sat equally scandalized, fingers curling into their ugly clumps of hair as they muttered and grumbled to themselves, clearly put back into place. Although she'd never admit it, Maeve appreciated the back-up. The day had well worn her patience to dust and had those girls rambled on, someone was going to leave class with a broken nose. A few someones, in fact.

At Cora's offer to head for the library, Maeve nodded once. "Let's."

She rose from her seat. Allowed to be excused by Professor Tumaz in order to 'study' further, she and Corazona trickled out from the classroom. By the grace of the Force, the hallway was relatively empty with most students still trapped for the hour, although even those lingering were careful to avoid Maeve's path as she cut a way to the library.

"I should've known the history professor, of all people, would be in possession of the artifact," she said curtly. Had she at least made that guess, she might've been saved from that dreadful morning art class. Now, she would have Wayland's third limb forever seared into her memory.

"As much as I would like to march back into that classroom and politely take the relic off the man's hands, we need to be careful about this," Maeve continued, releasing a sigh as she ran a hand through her hair. "If you have any ideas on how we can take it from him, Cora, I'm all ears."

Corazona von Ascania​

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[Corazona von Ascania]

Gathering books and supplies into her arms, Cora hurriedly trailed after Maeve. It was a blessing that they'd been allowed to leave early, especially as the Padawan found that she enjoyed art history far less than sketching. Subject matter notwithstanding.

Those in the hall seemed to give the pair a wide berth, and Cora chanced a careful smile at her partner.

"I'm sure we could've skipped if we had that information ahead of time." It was an attempt to be comforting in the face of how thrilled Maeve was to be here. "And even still, we'd have to attend each class just to be sure. At least it looks like we can take a half day?"

Her smile was trying to be encouraging, but the longer she kept it up, the more awkward it seemed.

"Professor Tumaz has office hours soon. Perhaps one of us could ask him questions about today's lesson as a distraction while the other...obtains our target?"

Her voice was lowered to a hush, shying away from saying the word steal or even take. That sounded illegal. It wasn't illegal though, right? Not when they were tasked directly from the Jedi Order. It wasn't as if they were acting alone.

"Do you have experience with that...sort of thing?"

Hefting her supplies into one arm, Cora flexed her now free hand and wriggled her fingers. It was funny, half of the Padawans in her cohort had come from a life on the streets, adept at pick pocketing and the like. Cora had no such skill set.

Maeve Linahan

 

[Maeve Linahan]

"Of course I do," she told Cora at her last question. "I'm a Shadow. It's what we're trained for. My worry is just what retrieving the artifact may entail. I'm not too certain about what horrors an object like that is capable of. We may need to do some more research on our part."

She paused at the hallway's end. As if on cue, the entrance to the library stood before them, double mahogany doors carved with patterns of ivy and blooming roses. It was the perfect place to start.

The room inside was vast, lined with row after row of books. The ceiling was frescoed with Chandrila's sky, and with the natural light pouring in from the grand, arched windows around them, it was almost as if they'd walked outside into the courtyard gardens instead. It put the archives back on Coruscant to complete shame, and Maeve had to wonder just how much funding a university like this had to be pulling.

Deciding not to idle further, she cut straight to an information desk, where an old librarian with graying hair sat in silence. She was paging through a book, the cover of which almost made Maeve choke on her spit.

"Uh, excuse me?" she said, clearing her throat and pretending like she hadn't just seen the most horrendous thing her eyes had ever laid on. "Do you happen to have any books here on historical Sith artifacts?"

Despite the obviously concerning question, the librarian never once looked up from her… novel. Instead, deadpan and dull as a rock, she pointed towards a gated corner of the library and said, "All texts related to the Sith are stored in the restricted section, which is strictly off-limits to students. To access it, you need faculty approval." She flipped to the next page. "Anything else?"

Corazona von Ascania​

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[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora nearly choked on her own spit when she caught a glimpse of the...sacred text the librarian was reading. Fortunately, she managed to stifle her noise of discomfort, and even more fortunately, the librarian didn't seem to notice. That, or she didn't care.

It was unfortunate that the information they needed access to was gated off.

An idea swirled in her head. It might've even been a good idea, if Cora had the skill to back it up.

"We have-"

Stepping forward, the Padawan raised a hand and slowly guided her palm in a straight line along the librarian's visage.

The woman's gaze remained fixed on the page, engrossed in her novel.

"Uhm, excuse me, ma'am? Could you, erm, look at me please?"

Cora's voice hitched into an awkward squeak. Exasperated, the librarian flicked her sharp gaze up to the blonde girl.

The student took a deep breath. This was risky. Her hand drew a slow, horizontal line in front of the woman's eyes.

"We do have faculty permission to access the restricted section."

Maeve Linahan