With preparations completed, and everybody in their chosen place, Jalt opens the unlocked box again...

Juragga leans in, squints his teal eyes, and then huffs.

"WaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAArgh," he commented.

What's the big deal.  It's a little crystal pyramid.

Rhijans' eyes narrowed as he saw into the box...but they didn't stay there long.  He still couldn't understand the Wookiee, so he didn't realize Juragga had seen the same thing he did...but satisfied that the thing in the box presented a minimal physical threat, he began watching the others in the group to see if it presented some other kind of threat.

Whatever it was, it didn't seem to have much effect on him...and for that, he was actually quite relieved.

"Holochron..." Shard whispers as the crystal becomes visible.  For an instant, she's hearing the words of her teacher, and for once doesn't discount them.  Ice fills her veins, fear thickens her throat.

"Shut the box!" she snaps.  If Jalt doesn't comply, she lunges forward and slams the lid herself, making cursed sure to keep from touching the crystal.

OOC - Short post, but I want to make certain whether or not this happens before Shard starts blabbing.  :)

Jalt hesitates, for what seems like an eternity and a half, but is probably closer to about a half second.

Then the lid slams closed with a bang.

As an afterthought, he presses the stud to lock it.  "Right.  What was all that about?"

Shard sags against the wall, grimacing.  She can almost taste the feeling on her tongue, a bitumen slick of anger.  "Thanks, Jalt.  That's..."  Both hands through her hair this time, eyes closed.  "Close one," she croaks.  "Maybe."

Her head comes up.  "What was it about.  That...thing...is a holocron.  Back in the day, the Jedi discovered crystals they could use to make, erm, call it recording devices that were attuned to a certain kind of energy field." She sighs. "The Force.  They used them to store important data, knowledge, lessons, that kind of thing."

A shrug.  "Or so my teacher told me."

Sliding down the wall, she sits on her haunches.  "Now, he showed me images, told me about them...Jedi holocrons were cubes.  That?  That was a pyramid," she unnecessarily states.  "The Jedi were sticklers for doing things in a specific way, so I'm betting it's not a Jedi holocron."

Her lips twist - not quite grimace, not quite frown. "And...I'm guessing nobody else felt this?  I could practically smell the anger radiating off it.  Between that, the colour?  My guess is it's a Sith artifact."

Shard's voice drops to almost a whisper. "My teacher...he once told me Sith holocrons were dangerous.  Full of all kinds of void-cursed knowledge about that dangerous side of the Force, the one that changes people...or maybe unlocks the uncaring, 'center of the universe' we all have buried in us."  Her haunted gaze rises, and she stares at Haarmon.  "He also said they held the minds of the Sith who made them."

Another scrub of the hair.  "I didn't ever put much stock in it.  But...with what Haarmon says, with what I felt?"

Haarmon took a step closer to Shard. It was also a step between her and the box. His hand had fallen to the butt of his pistol (something that hadn't happened in weeks). He was aware of none of these things.

"I didn't feel anything that time. Just frustrated whispering."

A pause.

"Did it talk to you?"

Rhijans didn't feel anything in particular from the thing in the box...but there was no mistaking the impact it had on Shard.  "That would explain what it said to Haarmon...about teaching him things the Jedi couldn't.  I guess, anyway..."  His entire life, the Force had been a myth...Jedi were folklore, at best, and at worst they were self-deluded frauds.  He'd hardly even heard of Sith before getting in with the Alliance.

But he'd worked with Shard long enough to have faith in her judgment.  And to recognize signs of very real stress on her countenance...

"So, examining it later would be a bad idea, then...?"

Juragga roared in disgust.  We should dump it into a nearby star, he commented.

It must sound crazy.  She must sound crazy.  Hesitant to look around, Shard stares into her hands.  Haarmon shifts a touch closer, notes what he felt, so different to her own experience.  She grimaces, but then he questions.  Not denying, not arguing, just...contrasting.  Rhijans?  The bounty-hunter sounds thoughtful, rather than scornful.

She can't help but grin at Juragga's reaction; the smile is a shaky thing, but real.

"No voice, no whispering, but...I wasn't really close to it.  Or holding the box.  Or anything."  She stumbles through the explanation, searching for some kind of thread to grasp. "Only my feelings of its...feelings."  Hard to say, about a glowing crystal.  "And while I only have my teacher's word about such things, I know enough about the situation between them and the Sith to figure anything Sith probably isn't good news."  A snort.  "I'm none-too-fond of a lot of the Jedi stuff as well, but that's neither here nor there.  Sith were a nasty lot - as I understand their entire philosophy was 'strong rule, weak serve or die'."

Finally, she looks up, studying all of the faces around her.  Jalt, Juragga, Rhijans, Haarmon.... "Part of me wants to keep it.  Knowledge shouldn't be lost, all of that.  But.  I think it's too dangerous."

"I'd buy that explanation.  I've heard stories, and a lot of them are weirder than some haunted crystal."  Jalt shrugs, "I mean, I've heard of droids that got wiped, and then developed the same personality they had before.  Including holding a grudge against the person who ordered the wipe."

"Or space slugs big enough to grab hold of a ship and swallow it."

"So this... " and he gestures towards the box, "... what did you call it?  A holocron?  Well that just doesn't seem that far fetched."

"The real question is, what should we do with it?"

"RAAAAAAAAAUUUUrrrgh!!!" Juragga repeated.

Dump it into a nearby star!

Haarmon made a sour face and said nothing. In truth, he didn't think he was in the proper frame of mind to be involved in this decision. A sizable part of him still regretted telling anyone about it. And a goodly portion wanted to just grab it and go lock himself in the bathroom (well, maybe not in the bathroom - it was still a mess in there) and...

...he wasn't even sure what he wanted to DO with it. Just have it. All to himself. Secret and secure.

And none of those were healthy instincts. Or constructive ones.

He shared Shard's reluctance to destroy it. He had a computer nerd's desire to save everything. And the deepest part of him still thought of knowledge, raw data, as an absolute good (and only the uses its put to can be bad).

But nothing about this thing was good. And it had gotten its way all up inside him in a bad way.

Then he had a thought.

"Is there...." a pause, "Is it, like..." a dry chuckle, "Is it, you know? Magic?"

Shook his head.

"Not MAGIC, but, like, it has to have a program, of some kind, right? Like, it's basically a driod all tarted up to SEEM like an evil space wizard. Right? There can't be, like, a PERON in there? Can there?"

A pause. A long pause.

"What I'm saying is, could we, like, download it? Strip the data and kill the evil wizard? You know?"

He took a half step closer to hit. He wasn't even aware he'd moved. His eyes and face were alive and excited. He wasn't even aware he'd moved.

"Like, I bet could get into the insides of it. Decode it. Even the most sophisticated program is just a series of steps. And it's not the DATA that's off, it's the interface, right? The super-Sith-sign-up-sheet. But what if I could find out everything it knows without having to go through the interface?"

He was close now. His excitement narrowed and grew still. His eyes locked on the box.

"Yeah. I bet I could. Go in the backdoor. Siphon out all the knowledge. Then I could know everything it knows. And no danger to anyone."

Almost touching it.

Support, of a kind, from Jalt - he doesn't know anything of this specifically, but has seen weirder in his time, apparently.  So that's four for four, and the relief is immense.  The idea of the team, of any of the team, thinking that she has gone around the bend is anathema to Shard.  They're too important.

A wince, then, as Juragga repeats himself.  "I'm heading in that direction myself," the older woman mutters.

Then Haarmon.

Shard watches, first with curiosity, then concern, as Haarmon closes in on the box.  Her teeth set as he speaks his final words.  Fear and anger bubble up within, and for once she listens to her teacher's voice.  Partly.  Calm is needed here, but calm without arrogance.

"It imprints a mind.  Is it the same mind?  Is it the Sith themselves?"  Thinner than paper, her smile. "The Jedi believed it.  But even if it isn't, does it make a difference?"

She leans forward.  "But I'll run with it.  Let's say you're right.  Let's say that you can dredge the information out of there, Haarmon.  Now you have information that ancient Sith used.  Ancient Sith who embraced the kind of minset that Ghea Nimmada embodies, who viewed the weak as either servants or target practice.  Sith whose idea of a good 'master-student' relationship was the student trying to surpass the master and kill her to prove they had what it took."

Her voice lowers. "All of the Jedi methods of accessing the Force, for attuning themselves to the energy patterns, they use the calm, empty feeling.  The Sith?  They tended to draw on that part of the energy pattern that seemed to either enhance their selfish, uncaring mindset or even create it in them.  Their methods, their techniques, all of that will be based on those methods: the channeling of hate, of pain, of rage."

"I've tasted that once."  Shard closes her eyes for a moment, remembering the screams, the smell of burn, the hatred filling her.  "It's real."

Her hand rises and points at potentially Haarmon's new teacher. "Whatever knowledge it has will be what you have.  And maybe you'll need to follow the same methods."

Standing, Shard moves Haarmon; it's too close to the box, a Rimbesman handspider lurking in the corner of her vision.  It's hard to ignore. "Haarmon...the danger will be to you." She locks her eyes with his, willing him to look away from the box, a tiny coffin for a dead mind. "That's your choice.  I believe everyone gets a choice.  It's just...I'm your teacher.  And I'm your friend.  I cursed well care!  And I'm begging you, please."

"Please don't."
This message was last edited by the player at 17:04, Tue 17 Oct 2017.

That stopped him pretty much dead. Shard didn't do a lot of begging. He blinked and shook his head and realized where he was standing and took two, three steps back and his body language sort of deflated.

He rubbed his hands against his tunic with his mouth a tight line, as though they were dirty or oily.

He took a moment to think. To really think. He knew he should take her word for it. She knew more than he did. She was the teacher and all. But he also knew that sometimes people who knew more used that knowledge to lock out other options. The DATA was an absolute good, But it could be misused.

"But. You said. That. You didn't know if the Dark Side created the anger, or the anger called to the Dark. You said it's about intent. Right? Why we do what we do? And other than that, it's a skill? Right? The breathing and the visualizing. Even the void-cursed pull-ups. Skills. And intentions. That's the two pieces. Right?"

A pause.

"So. I'll grant the Evil Space Wizard is too smart for me. And MAYBE even too smart for you. Maybe. But the skills are the skills. No? And our intentions are good? Aren't they? And if the Jedi were too much the one, and these Sith were too much the other, then the answer is something in between? No? And isn't that the balance? Skills on the one hand and intentions on the other?"

Another pause.

"Or are these two completely different activities? Two sets of skills?"

He shakes his head. Steps away again. Takes a deep breath.

"Look. I'm all about choices, but I don't have enough information to make this decision. Tell me what to do, Teacher, and I'll do it. I trust you."

Rhijans tensed, almost imperceptibly, as Haarmon approached the box.  The words were vintage Haarmon...'Let me play with it and see what I can find out...'  But the behavior was...off, somehow.  It made him feel like he was watching a spice addict trying to say no to the next hit.  He didn't know much about the Force...even less about Jedi, and still less about Sith.  But Shard did.  Maybe not a lot, to judge by her words, but she knew far more than he did.  And she thought the thing in the box was bad news.

His hand eased to the grip of his blaster...and then relaxed slightly as Shard pulled Haarmon back, and then as Haarmon backed up further on his own.  "We need someone with more knowledge to tell us how to use it," he intoned, emotionlessly.  "Doesn't look to be any kind of dataport on that thing, Haarmon...how are you gonna download it?  Keep in mind that last time you had the open box in your hands, you were basically a drooling heap on the floor...Jalt thought you were dying."  Cold, clinical analysis...no disparaging overtones tainted his words.  "Seems like it'd be pretty difficult to siphon data if the thing renders you catatonic when you touch it."

He still didn't understand Wookiee, but he'd been around Juragga enough to read enough body language, and understood that the Wookiee did NOT like the thing, either.  "I don't know what to do with it...but right now, my gut instinct is to do as little as possible.  Close it up and keep it quiet until we can find someone who knows more about it than us, and knows how to use it properly."

Juragga's body language was agitated as the interplay occurred.  His teal eyes narrowed as Rhijans' hand hovered near his blaster.  He didn't want the kid to grab the thing either.  But for a moment he prepared to throw his body between Rhijans and Haarmon, if the gunslinger drew, to take the shot for the kid.

But thankfully that didn't happen.

"GRROOOWWwwwr," he snarled.  Striding forward, he reached out with both paws and grabbed the thing, lifting it clear.  He pivoted on heel... his eyes canting towards the airlock.

Rhijans couldn't understand Wookiee language...but body language was pretty universal among bipedal sentient species, and Juragga's message wasn't hard to figure out.  "Or, yeah...sling it out an airlock.  But we should do that in a place where it can't lure someone else in to get it.  If this thing's as bad as Shard makes it sound, we need to make sure someone like Nimadda can't get it, more than we need to try and figure out what it might teach any of us."  He sounded (on the surface, at least) completely unsurprised that Juragga was ready to get rid of it.

But one thing he'd learned was, as dangerous as an item might be in the hands of a novice, it was infinitely more dangerous in the hands of someone who knew how to use it.  And it didn't sit right with him to just leave something THAT potentially dangerous out where someone might stumble across it, similarly to how they had...and take it back to Nimadda.  Or someone worse...

Shard grimaces at Haarmon's questions. "The Space Wizard -" sure, why not? "- is probably too smart for me, too, Haarmon.  I just heard things about the Sith which you haven't, is all."  It's easy to see the turmoil in him, the conflict, but...is that the cause of the box?  Or is it Haarmon?  Because if it is...

...she understands.

Especially when he continues with his queries.  Her response starts with a dry, strained chuckle.  "You've just proved yourself smarter than me.  Like I said, I learn from you as well, Haarmon.  Yes, it's about intent.  So maybe there's stuff in the box we could learn."

And Rhijans cuts in with some questions and logic of his own.  "Probably need to go through 'speaking' with the Sith mind inside it," Shard mutters.  "If anyone could find a way around that, it would be Haarmon, but while he was trying?  I don't like the idea of that thing having access to anyone's brain."

She's about to continue when, whoosh, the box is gone, snatched away by Juragga with the intent of dumping it out the window, so to speak.  Rhijans, with his customary calm speed, is already all over that.  And, like him, Shard isn't thinking that Juragga is wrong, just that they need to decide HOW.

"Let's just not toss it quite yet."

While the bounty hunter deals with that, she returns her attention to Haarmon.

"There are...some exceptions, as I understand.  There are some abilities, some skills, that draw directly from that side of the Force that the Jedi called Dark.  They're like..." Again, she sketches in the air, helplessly.  "Manifestations, I guess, of its energy.  And dangerous to use.  They open you up to that energy.  And I don't know how to stop that.  Or even recognize the one kind from the other, until I try."

Sagging in place, Shard shakes her head.  "I'm a poor teacher, Haarmon.  I never finished the Jedi training, and I'm muddling my through on my own path.  But you know that.  This box?  It would be a much, much better instructor.  With it, you'd probably learn how to cloud minds, to throw around stuff without touching it, maybe even to speed up other people's healing." She shakes her head.  "The problem is...even if you circumvent that thing, you'd be walking a minefield, one through which I am no guide."

Both her hands rise to grip his shoulders.  "And I don't want you to do that; not because I doubt you, but because I'm afraid of what will happen if you make a mistake.  Just one, and we all misstep.  But I can't choose for you, in the end.  I won't."

"I'm your teacher, not your master."

Fingers slowly open, and she lets her hand fall.  Shard closes her eyes.  "And whatever you choose, I'll support that." 

She won't be Nimadda...but, void help her, Shard won't be her mentor, either.

And at that precise moment, there is a harsh buzzing sound from the cockpit.  Jalt curses under his breath and then, in a louder voice, adds, "Collision warning!" as he turns on one heel and heads for his pilot position, where he starts scanning the displays for any sign of whatever triggered the alarm.

After about a  couple of seconds, the Bantha makes a radical course correction which causes deep vibrations from the drives to reverberate through the hull.  Somewhere inside the ship something falls and breaks with a loud crash.

At Jalt's declaration of what the alarm was, Rhijans immediately found a seat and braced himself for an impact...which, apparently, wasn't going to happen.  At least, not just yet.  "What is it?" he called out...debated for a moment, then started toward the cockpit, in a walking stance that gave him better stability in the event of more sudden course corrections.

They were flying out of an asteroid field, so it was entirely possible that it was just a relatively innocuous chunk of debris...but they'd flown into the asteroid field because they picked up a distress signal.  If they picked it up, someone else could have.  Someone like pirates...or the Empire...

If that was the case, their fate was largely in Jalt's hands, for the time being.

Juragga roared in dismay, and - caught mid-step - toppled backwards, heels flying, the mysterious Sith Holocron clattering to the deck and skidding across the floor.

"Mind the cursed box!" Shard snaps, as fear spikes through her.  It's a box.  It's a recording.  But it's not just that, it's a holocron made from force-sensitive crystals capturing a Sith mind.

Is it possible that the holocron is what caused the potential collision, to prevent Juragga's action?

Grabbing hold of...whatever solid object she can, really, including Juragga if necessary, she attempts to get one foot on top of the box to keep it from sliding into something.  And breaking.

'Release' is suddenly a really ugly word.

"It looks like... " Jalt calls back, then hesitates, "... about half of a star destroyer, or something.  Big anyway.  I noticed it earlier, but it was drifting away from us then, so I ignored it.  Now something made it decide to head for us."

"It's not under power, and every sense the Bantha has says it's dead, and cold as anything else around here.  So I have no clue how it could change course.  Luckily it doesn't seem very maneuverable, so it was easy enough to avoid.  In fact it's just going in a straight line."

Jalt thinks for a few seconds, then, "It's like someone just gave it a push, then forgot about it."

Haarmon squeezed himself into the nearest niche in the bulkheads as fast an as hard as he could and held on for dear life. He went white when the box went flying and whiter when Shard reached out to it. He wanted to jump and push her away, certain that, somehow, for some reason, it wanted her to touch it.

And then what Jalt said, somehow, made it worse.

"That's not... that can't... is that... space-wizard stuff?" He asked about the idea of someone giving half a dead Star Destroyer a push.