Chương 13: Chapter 13: Love it or hate it…
Vancil tapped his foot impatiently as he leaned against an ornate stone pillar. His arms were crossed and his masked gaze fixed ahead of him on the occasional foot traffic that passed through the section of the temple he had gone into. And while he enjoyed the fearful and nervous glances the passing Jedi gave him whenever they came under his hateful gaze, he was ultimately quite bored.
He had no objection to waiting for Kandria to sort out whatever the hell she had to sort out with the Order's little council. But, believe it or not, there was a limit to how much he enjoyed making Jedi uneasy. Of course, the main reason was because they all had the exact, same, reactions. He'd look at them, with a healthy dose of hatred for them and their order, they'd become anxious and quicken their pace until they left his vision.
Vancil clicked his tongue as he turned his gaze to the Jedi leaning against the pillar opposite him. Drallig still had his signature stern and observing look, and even slightly mimicked Vancil in his position leaning against the pillar. When Vancil had first proudly walked off, he had no actual real destination in mind. His memory of the layout of the temple was sketchy at best after all. Add on a likely couple millennia and there was bound to be changes to that already faded recollection.
Fortunately, Drallig had caught up to him and taken him into a portion of the temple Vancil wouldn't be able to tell you if he tried. And now, they waited.
"We're late! Come on!"
Vancil's head turned idly towards the sound of rushed footsteps, the echoes being heard well before he could see them due to the size and relative emptiness of this section of the temple. Rounding the corner was a pair of what he could only assume to be a pair of younglings. Bounding ahead was a male human with brown hair and brown eyes, a relatively common sight. Behind him was a female human, featuring much the same common features, except with purple eyes.
The pair came to a screeching stop as they looked around frantically, the young male clicking his tongue as he turned to his companion, "Drat, I forgot where the class was."
His companion, much to the male's chagrin, didn't have any solutions to this, only able to pant from exertion, "Don't…look…at me…"
The boy gritted his teeth and looked around, his gaze lighting up as it fell on Vancil and Drallig standing in the shadows of the towering stone pillars. He quickly bounded forward, clearly believing the both of them to be higher ranking Jedi with some semblance of direction.
And for some reason, the boy decided that, out of the two of them, Vancil was the one he should approach, "Excuse me sir! Could you tell me where Master Illiac's class is?"
Vancil blinked in surprise as he stared down at the youngling in shock, "…Can you not sense who I am?"
The child tilted his head questioningly, "You're a Master, aren't you? All the knights were sent to the frontlines."
Vancil stayed silent for a moment before chuckling lightly, mainly because of the look of pure shock on Drallig's face and his subsequent inability to react, "Nope. I'm about as non-Jedi as you can get kid. I like your ignorance though, you're about the only one who hasn't run away in fear."
"Illiac is just down that way and to the right. Now go along, you don't want to be even more late." Drallig said, stepping between the befuddled youngling and Vancil, having finally snapped out of his stupor.
The boy blinked in confusion, looking around Drallig's body at Vancil before shrugging and hurriedly sprinting in the direction Drallig had pointed, "Thank you! Come on Lyla!"
Reminded of the presence of the girl, Vancil looked to her to gauge her reaction. In polar opposite to her friend, Lyla was frozen in place, sweating visibly, her gaze fixed on Vancil in the same way a deer might view an oncoming Rancor. And like a deer looking at a Rancor, there was one key thing that was almost certainly going through their minds.
Why the hell was a Rancor here and not on Tatooine?
Gulping, Lyla stumbled forward slightly before gaining speed with renewed vigour as she sped after the boy. Vancil laughed heartily, the echoes of which caused the girl to run even faster, as though she were pursued by invisible phantoms.
"Well, at least that was something new." He said, bringing a confused look to Drallig's face.
"What do you mean?"
Vancil waved his hand dismissively, "Ah, you wouldn't get it."
Drallig's lips pursed and he motioned to speak again before a light beeping came from the commlink on his wrist. He glanced at Vancil warily before answering the call, causing the small little goblin to pop into holographic view.
"Concluded, the Council has. Access to the Archives, Vancil shall now have."
Drallig nodded, a faint flicker of relief entering his eyes, likely at the prospect of being free of Vancil, "Of course, Master Yoda."
Drallig ended the call with the press of a button and turned to Vancil, "Ready for your answers?"
Vancil scoffed and held his arms out to the side, "I've been ready for ages buddy. Now let's get going."
*****
Vancil was…satisfied. That was about the only word he could use to describe this feeling. Shortly after being given the go ahead, both he and Drallig made their way to Jedi Archives, with Vancil badgering Drallig all the way in an attempt to make him walk faster.
When they did make it, Vancil was introduced to quite the cranky old lady in yellow called Jocasta Nu. In a way she reminded him of his grandmother. He didn't like his grandmother much. Thankfully however, she was all business, immediately pointing Vancil in the direction of the section he wished to access and promptly leaving, albeit with a warning look in her eye directed at Drallig.
From there it had been a relatively peaceful reading session. Vancil was able to discern that he was roughly 3000 years in the future after cross referencing the names of important Sith he knew with other events he was present at or knew. From there he had learnt a lot of things.
The Great War, following his disappearance, proceeded for almost a decade before finally ending with a victory for the Empire. That brought a smirk to his face. From there on he simply read on about the future Sith Empires and found himself quite…disappointed with them. And while it brought him some pride knowing that he was a part of the strongest Sith Empire to exist, it still didn't change how weak its scions were.
There was one thing that particularly bothered him. The Banite Sith, supposedly the last Sith left alive in the galaxy following the fall of the last empire one thousand years ago. Apparently, this Darth Bane fella, upon the destruction of the empire, promptly hunted down the rest of the Sith until it was only him and his apprentice, beginning what the Jedi called the Rule of Two.
Two Sith, and only two Sith, in the galaxy at any time.
It was…profoundly stupid. While at a glance it might seem like the smart thing considering the infighting of the previous empires, Vancil hated it immensely. It was so…Jedi-like. From Vancil's perspective, it was everything the Sith stood for.
They didn't rely on strength and prowess, and instead skulked in the darkness, cowering in fear at discovery. And then because there was only two it was an incredibly exclusive order. This was bad for the reason that anyone should be able to join the Sith, if they have the will and strength to accomplish it. In Vancil's eyes this was no better then the Jedi Order's exclusivity, except instead of a maximum to the age of a youngling, it was simple a cap on Sith in general. If they were ever discovered and both the Master and the Apprentice killed, the Sith would be over, then and there.
He could also notice the problems that would have inevitably come about as a result of this between the Master and the Apprentice. If the way an Apprentice was supposed to become a Master was for them to duel the master and defeat them in a duel, then why on earth would the Master train the apprentice to be strong? Sith were notoriously self-serving after all.
As a result the Apprentice would have to resort to trickery and more cowardice to kill the Master, meaning that the whole theory that they would get stronger over the generations was backwards. They would get weaker the further the weak apprentices were forced to forgo becoming stronger to becoming trickier.
If Vancil was right, then the Banites should be at their weakest after a full millennium, unless they somehow managed to produce genius' and keep themselves afloat. Ultimately however, Vancil felt nothing more then slight anger at how stupid these Banites were.
And in the end, he was satisfied. It was simple. He had gotten information and was…at peace. It wasn't what he expected, but it didn't shatter him and his world view completely.
There was only one thing left that he wished to know.
He had searched for his master, Darth Ominit on the archives to discover that he was confirmed dead on a battlefield on Alderaan. The Archives definitely lived up to their reputation in that instance, managing to have information on Darth Ominit that only those close to Vancil knew, like his preference for cold tea instead of hot.
Strange, yes, but still specific enough that the Jedi had it.
One thing was on Vancil's mind though. If they had such extensive records on a Sith Lord, then surely, they would have impeccable records on their own members?
His gloved fingers hovered over the search bar for the stack of data he had been given. He licked his suddenly dry lips, and he was glad for his mask, lest this moment of weakness be shown on his face to the Jedi Master watching.
Just one thing. He just wanted to know one thing. Simple, but also not. He was making this decision out to be bigger than it was. Gritting his teeth Vancil started to type, aware of the constant and vigilant gaze of Drallig over his shoulder
He didn't care though. They could look, they could look all they wanted. What right did they have to stop him?
Just…one thing.
The blue screen loaded as he looked over the words again and again as they burned into his eyes.
THE GRAVE OF JULIA ROMUVAL
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