Jalt pulls the ship into an ascending spiral, putting some distance between the Bantha and the surface.

"How's Haarmon doing?" he calls out, without taking his eyes of the instruments, "He going to live?"

"Interesting.  With the beacon removed there are no signals down there.  No emissions of any kind.  It's just a rock, covered with wreckage.  But something made those ships crash.  So why didn't it affect us?"

Rhijans answered readily, a scowl creeping onto his features as he spoke.  "Seems to be fine.  Is that beacon still broadcasting?  Don't really like the idea of an emergency transponder advertising our whereabouts..."  He liked it even less when he thought about potentially returning to the Alliance base with it...it would make staying out of Imperial focus a lot trickier if the thing was sending a distress signal the entire time...

Shard's eyes narrow.  Everyone is doing a lot of talking, and a pretty ugly picture is starting to form.  "Hold steady, Jalt!" she calls out. "Maintain this distance, but no further!"

Spinning around, she faces up to Haarmon. "Haarmon, whatever you saw inside the box, we're going to need to know.  And soon.  Because I'm starting to get the idea that maybe those ships didn't crash coming to pick up the box."

Now her eyes turn toward the object in question.  "Maybe they - each and every one of them - found that box.  And crashed on the way out."   Shard draws in a deep breath.   "If that's the case, how?  And why?  Was it because of something up there?"  She points, roughly 'away' from the asteroid.  "Or was it because of something in there?"

This time she points at the box.

Haarmon sat and fidgeted and wrung his hands and his face screwed up in a couple of different unhappy expressions. He was reluctant to answer for all kinds of reasons, from not wanting to worry anyone to not wanting to be laughed at to not wanting to be believed...

...and yes, because it felt like the thing in the box was for him. And all for him. And he wanted something all for his own very very badly.

All the same, he knew that whatever it was, it was too big and too strange for him to handle on his own.

"It. Um. It..." he made a long drawn out moan of unhappiness. "Um. Shard? You said you aren't a Jedi, right?"

If she wasn't a Jedi, like for reals, then maybe it was okay?

Shard swallows the instant retort, studying Haarmon.  It's clear this is Serious Business™, and she needs to carefully consider her answer.  Because whatever it is, it's going to define...something.  A stance?  Herself?  Haarmon's choices?

Doesn't matter; it's always best to go with the truth.

"I'm not a Jedi," she agrees, quietly. "I was apprenticed to one - padawan, they call it - but I never finished the training.  Quite." A long, slow sigh, and she keeps her gaze fixed on her own student.  Not looking anywhere else, certainly not.  "And I don't agree with their philosophy, not any more."

Burning light lashing the room mixed with blaster-fire from the screaming, terrified techs, and all she can do is watch... 

"Not any more," she repeats in almost a whisper.  Then her voice rises slightly, and she places a hand on Haarmon's shoulder. "Haarmon.  Trust us.  Please?"

Juragga caterwauled his support, encouraging the kid to share with them - and trust Shard.

Haarmon took a deep breath. Aside from any other concerns, he couldn't blow Rags off. When the wookie got all sincere, there was just no resisting him.

Still. It was weird. And maybe embarrassing.

"It. Um. It. Uh. Talked to me."

Rhijans blinked a couple of times...but otherwise betrayed no surprise at the statement.  "And just what did it have to say?" he asked.  There was perfect frankness in his tone...no skepticism, no doubt.  Since joining the Alliance, he'd seen enough things that a talking box on a derelict asteroid covered with wreckage didn't seem beyond the realm of possibility.  And Haarmon, for all his bluster and bravado, had never failed them in a tight spot.

He was willing to reserve judgment on the matter until he'd heard it all.

Haarmon sighed and shook his head and gritted his teeth. The further he got into this, the worse he felt. If he could, he'd go back and just forget it. But he was too far into it now.

"Ugh. It opened. And then it was in my head. And it said that it could help me. That it could help me learn what the Jedi couldn't teach. And then I was unconscious. And after that you were there."

His face flushed a little. He felt ridiculous.

Juragga's support garners a quick smile from Shard, but her concern for Haarmon grows as the young man struggles to get his explanation together.  Finally, it comes, delivered in a halting near-whisper.

Mind.

In a box.

But maybe it's not something dangerous, she hazards, slowly nodding.  There's no scepticism; Shard has seen odd things, experienced odd things.  A talking box, possibly containing some kind of archive*, possibly a computer system or so forth, certainly isn't out of the question.  She opens her mouth, and Rhijans pre-empts her query.  No mockery, either, not that she had expected any.

Good, nonetheless.

So she decides to wait; rushing in all of the questions tying knots in her throat wouldn't be good for Haarmon.

"Jalt?  We holding steady?" she calls over her shoulder, watching their teammate for his reaction to Rhijans' inquiry.

And it comes, and Shard's eyes widen slightly.

Oh, danger here.  Something that comes from the past, something that offers as its opening.  Not something that seeks to understand Haarmon first, but rather it - potentially - tempts.  That sets off alarm bells; Shard isn't against a certain balance (and, in fact, courts this balance), but this reeks of something much further along the line from her old mentor's cold, sterile ways. 

"Haarmon," she slowly begins, "I believe you.  And because I believe you, I need to know: please tell me word for word what it said."

And her guts knot with fear, fear for Haarmon, not for herself.

* Another gratuitous Bes Shahar reference...  ^_^
This message was last edited by the player at 17:03, Wed 06 Sept 2017.

It was hard to undo a lifetime of conditioning, and part of Rhijans balked at the notion of the Jedi teaching anything.  But he recalled some of the feats that the Twi'lek they'd extracted, early on...things that he'd never imagine being possible.  And she'd been, by her own admission, incompletely trained...

And, therefore, no matter his initial reaction, he had to take Jalt seriously.  So, apparently, did Shard, he noticed...her slowly-phrased question seeking to parse the exact terms of the offer the...whatever-it-was...made to Haarmon.  He sat back, listening analytically.

Haarmon squinted his eyes and his brow furrowed in something halfway between thought and pain.

"I can't really remember all that well."

But how true was that? And if his brain was hiding things from him, was it because it was hard? Painful? Embarrassing? Or was it because he was trying to shade things such that maybe he could get access to the thing one more time before Shard spaces it?

And why did he want access to it anyway? It was clearly bad news. That was obvious enough before Shard started up on it. And he trusted Shard. And it's not like he was doing the whole Frustrated Apprentice My Master Won't Teach me the Good stuff bit.

Not yet anyway.

Or was he? How could he be sure? Now that he had all this Force business all up in his business, he had to worry all the time about what he wanted and why he wanted it. It wasn't enough anymore to watch his mouth. he had to watch his own mind.

Shard was showing him how. But it was hard. Hard. Hard.

This Force business was complicated. And he hadn't even gotten to hold a lightsaber yet.

Another sigh.

Okay then. All in. He'd trust Shard and Rhijans would know what to do. One more time at least.

"It said it could help me. It said the Jedi can't teach me what I need to know."

A pause.

"Verbatim."

Shard closes her eyes at the words.  She's thinking, furiously.  Maybe that's the wrong thing to do; maybe she should be going with her gut.  The problem?  Her gut is divided.

She doesn't like this at all.

She doesn't like the idea of hurting Haarmon.

Given the choice, though, she'll take the latter over the former.  The problem is, she can't be sure the situation is as bad as it seems.  Hence, the thinking.

Eyes open, sidelong glance to Rhijans.  One corner of her mouth rises, a tight half-smile.  "All right.  Some of this might sound like Bantha crap to the people in the room."  Gaze flicks to Juragga.  "Or maybe not.  We'll see."

Slowly, Shard sits down on the acceleration seat.  She doesn't want to look like she's lecturing.  "So, my problem with this.  Any time someone comes to me and says 'I can give you what you want.  Those people can't, but I can.'  That sounds like 'Agenda' to me." She studies her hands.  "Sounds that way here, especially since - I'm guessing - you made no mention of 'Jedi' to start with?  You didn't even say anything to whatever is in there?  It just...said that?"

Shard sighs.  Here's the rough part. "It gets worse.  Maybe.  Remember what I said about the training being dangerous?  About how it's easy to get sucked into what the Jedi used to call the Dark Side?  How it can twist you into something different?  Or maybe just bring out that selfish, 'I am the center of the Universe and everybody else, they're ants and not important except for my amusement' child-self?"  Another shrug.  "Call it 'evil' if you want; I'm all for that, even without any spiritual implications."  She waves a hand.  "Ghea Nimadda, let's say.  Anyway, let's accept that it can happen."

Leaning forward, Shard studies the box.  "The Jedi used to speak of the Dark Side as insidious.  Like something that drew people.  It was 'attractive'.  It caught you by strong emotions - rage and hate being the two big ones, but there were others.  Sneaky, almost."  A shudder follows that statement.  It almost got me.  "So they divorced themselves from such things." The older woman grimaces. "In, what I feel, was a bad way."

"Point here, though, isn't to debate their ideas and methods.  I don't like the sound of what that...thing...said to you.  Seems to fit with what the Jedi thought about 'The Dark Side.'  'Heyyyy...I can give you what you want.  The Jedi can't, but I can.  All you need to do is...listen to me, and not them.'"

She snorts. "Of course, the Jedi said the same about the other side, and killed anyone who disagreed."

Her eyes snap up and she looks at Haarmon, finally.  "I'm not saying 'toss it in a furnace'.  Maybe this is a good thing we've found, I don't know.  I want your idea on something.  Did you get any feel for what lay behind the voice?  Its...personality?  Outlook?  How'd it sound when it said that?"

Rhijans' lips tightened into a thin line as the words were repeated.  Shard's explanation went beyond him, largely...moralistic relativism, much of it, that meant little to him.  "It would be an easier decision to make if there'd been some notion of what it expected for the knowledge.  'Dark Side' or not, it's often true that some beings can teach what only they know, and that you can't learn from others.  But this sounds suspiciously close to offering something for nothing, or next to nothing...and while what I know about the Force is worth the weight of bantha flatulence, I do know that nothing worth having is acquired easily.  The more useful it us, the more you sacrifice to get it.  If someone offers it easily, they've got some hidden plan to make you pay later, somehow."

He looked at Haarmon.  "You're the one it talked to...any impression that it was a something-for-nothing offer?"  He didn't need any knowledge about the Force to be skeptical of the offer...life had provided him with plenty of skepticism.

"GuuuuuuuuuuUUUUhhhhhrrrraaawwwwhhhh," Juragga comented. Nothing's free.  And some things in this galaxy you don't need to learn.


It's obvious this thing is laced with some bad mojo, or you wouldn't have gotten sick from looking at it, he continued, his voice a modulated throaty bass.  But not angry; his tone was, if anything, soothing and parental - patient.  Not to jump to conclusions - anything can make you sick if you have too much of it.  But I'm old enough to remember the Jedi.  And their counterparts.

Maybe this isn't that.  Maybe it really can teach you something.  If it could teach me to be a ballerina, would that mean I needed to learn? He pulled his lips back to show a fanged grin.

What it has to offer, what you need, and what it costs - these are not necessarily related in any way, he concludes. And he put a shaggy paw on Haarmon's shoulder gently, in support. Make sure it all lines up, before you buy in.

Now they were all staring at him. Judging him. Lecturing him. Probably thinking he was like some little kid who stuck his hand in the wrong cookie jar and now needed a good, long talk about ruining his dinner and minding his manners and who knows what else.

You know that's not true, some part of him tried to say but another part of him, a sneaky, smooth, sibilant part, insisted otherwise. And that insistence was smooth like greased ice. Soft like old ashes. Sweet like overripe berries.

And that voice said that it was time for him to stop being a child. And the first step was telling all these... people... to leave him the void alone.

He took a deep breath and shook his head.

"Yeah. All of that. And twice over again. I don't think it's anything good."

Rhijans nodded, satisfied.  "It needs looking at...somewhere safe, that isn't dangerously close to a bunch of suspiciously-wrecked ships on an asteroid in the back-end of nowhere.  Preferably by people who actually know something about this kind of thing.  But not by us, and definitely not now."

He glanced momentarily at Shard, before looking back to Haarmon.  He had a feeling she wouldn't particularly care for what he was about to say next, but...  "If it turns out to be on the up-and-up and isn't some kind of mind-sucking death-trap, I say you get what it offered.  You figured it out, got it open...maybe that's some kind of test, to see if you're resourceful enough."

Reldan Jalt comes out of the cockpit and looks around the room.  There seems to be a lot of tension in the atmosphere, even considering Haarmon's seizure, or whatever it was.

In an attempt to defuse the situation, he asks, "Anybody object to my setting a course for home?  There's too many wrecked ships down there for me to feel comfortable."

Rhijans gave a brief nod.  "I think that would be highly advisable, actually.  Unless someone's got some further insight, I think we've learned about as much as we're gonna learn, here."  He didn't expect any dusagreement, but he looked around the room, giving everyone the chance to speak up if they felt otherwise.

Shard looks first to Haarmon, for his input.  Then Rhijans speaks, and she turns her gaze his way.  His own eyes flick to her - why, she's not sure - and he finishes with the idea that Haarmon should continue...assuming, of course, it isn't a mind-bender.

She shrugs.

"I'm not adverse to Haarmon using the...box?  If it's not dangerous.  AND he still feels he wants it," she clarifies, with a quick look back at the younger man.  He seems more reluctant about it, now; his words, at least, indicate some serious concerns.

"And while I'd like to be part of whatever bunch has a look at it," she continues, "I'm for sure biased enough that we need a group of people, not just my say-so.  Objectivity."  Her eyes narrow for an instant.  "And I think Haarmon should be in that group."

High time to start trusting her student...not that she distrusted him before.

With a wave, she releases the issue of holding position.  There is still some nervousness - why DID those ships crash, here? - but if Jalt feels it's good to go, why not make the attempt?

Haarmon nodded, at the taking off. He was so over this place it wasn't funny. And the faster, and father, away they were, the happier he'd be.

He gave what Rhijans and Shard said some thought.

"Now that we're talking about it, I'm not entirely sure I want to get anywhere near that thing again."

A pause. A moment's thought.

"Which is, I guess, the best reason for me to do it. So. Yeah. We get safe. As safe as we can manage anyway. And then. See."

His voice was returning to its usual level of confidence, but it wasn't all the way there yet. The experience had shaken him in ways he was just becoming aware of.

Juragga hooted his approval.  Slapping his furry knee, he rose, and made his way to the ladder for the gun cupola.  Pausing there, he leaned against it and looked back.

Shard grins at Juragga's affirmation.  "Choice," she states.  Then shrugs. "I must be channelling...someone I used to know.  You've got the choice, Haarmon.  Sure, it's important to face our fears, honk, honk, honk." She makes a goose's beak out of her hand, moving in time with the sound effects; between the relief at their escape, and the relief at Haarmon being still alive and - seemingly - of sound mind, giddy Shard has regressed somewhat, heading towards what she had been as a no-doubt annoying student. "It's also pretty important to know where to put the foot down, so if you want to skip when we start poking into this...box...that's fine."

A shrug.  "But I'd like to have you there.  You have some good perspectives, stuff I've never considered." That's a fact.

"Until then, I keep teaching you, if you're willing."  She snorts.  "Which means we'd better start on some new stuff, to keep you busy.  Including learning to wave this thing around without killing yourself."  A touch on the murder-stick.  "After all, I'm going to need you to hold onto it when it's my turn at the box."

A sigh.  A grimace.  Her head comes up, and she looks about the group: the colonel, Jalt, Juragga, and Rhijans. "Yeah, I'm...teaching Haarmon.  Not Jedi stuff, not completely.  For one thing, I'm not qualified.  For another, I'm not interested in teaching that.  But without any training, he did something that took me years to learn, back at the base when he was hurt.  There are things he needs, and needs to know, now, because this stuff?  It can get dangerous."

Her voice drops to a whisper.  "Just ask Ghea Nimadda."

Jalt looks a little uncertain, "Wait... Haarmon was laying on the deck screaming in pain.  He was trying to close the box, but couldn't touch it, like he was blind drunk or something, and couldn't control where he was putting his hand.  I had to close the lid, and whatever was in there didn't affect me.  As soon as I shut it, he started to feel better."

"I mean, this is what I saw.  It might not be the same as Haarmon's perception of the... incident.  But if you're going to let him try again, I'd rather it didn't happen when I'm around to see it."

Rhijans looked clinically at Jalt as the pilot spoke.  "Let's get out of here, first...then we can worry about what to do with the box.  We didn't find anything else...except some freak asteroid worm...and I don't think the worm fits the rumors of some kind of device or weapon or something that could defeat the Empire.  The box...?"  He shrugged

"Maybe.  Maybe Haarmon wasn't trained enough for the thing inside.  Maybe the box was opened wrong.  Maybe there's a way to filter the effect so it isn't incapacitating.  This isn't the time or place to figure it out."