Mortal Gods: Ancient History

[Lilaena De'Ville]

The wind blew softly around the huge structure, whistling around the edges of glass. The Cathedral of the Winds was one of the Nine Wonders of the galaxy, and the Vors only allowed wind to pass through it once a year. People came from everywhere for the concert. They were always different, and the Vors never permitted the music to be recorded, so being there in person was the only way to hear the nearly divine symphony.

De'Ville looked up at the huge crystalline ediface, and imagined the Vors flocking around it in the gale, covering the ends of thousands of pipes with their own bodies to change the tune and shape of the music. There were a few of the leathery skinned Vors present, but they were more interested in protecting the structure than playing music. The woman left the large tour group she'd been trailing along in, and walked out into the waist high razor grass when no one was watching.

Or maybe someone was watching. It really didn't matter one way or the other.

The dark haired woman drew on the Force, moving the sharp grass away from her legs as she walked. Her cloak wasn't so lucky, the bottom of it shredded up, but she avoided being cut. The razor grass was a natural deterrent to taking a nice stroll in the country, but that just meant no visitors while she was busy.

De'Ville had once visited Vortex before, looking for the site of an archaeological dig, which had been abandoned because funding had been cut. She'd recovered an ancient Sith amulet, a concentration talisman, which amplified ones effectiveness in the Force.

She was returning now, because she was sure there was more buried at the site. More of what, she wasn't sure.

[Morgan Evanar]

Morgan held his hat down on his head as the wind attempted to tear if off. Vortex was remarkable, for it almost constantly windy everywhere. While his face wasn't as well know as, say, Figrin's, he still perfered to be incognito, especially when searching for part of a holocron.

He drifted off from the tour group, but it was pre-arranged. Razor grass tugged at his clothes, but Morgan dismissed it, and continued on. The little knicks and cuts would heal in a few minutes anyway.

Like Tanaab, Vortex had been visited by Finx Grant while he had a holocron, or part of it. A few of the outlining markers still flickered, even after being battered by the wind for years. Morgan paused, and crouched close to the ground. Someone else was out here, but he couldn't tell who or what unless he stuck his face in the razor grass.

Morgan took his boonie hat off, and held it in front of his face. His hand was getting sliced badly, but he knew who it was. The Jedi Master dissapeared from electro-magnetic spectrum, while his Force presence became both indistinct and diminished. Morgan crept through the grass like a savannah preadator, paying the grass no heed at all.

De'Ville was here somewhere.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

She walked for an hour, keeping up a steady pace without hurrying. The scenery didn't change, fields of razor grass extended in all directions. There was a 'city' to the left in the distance, hummocks under the earth that the Vors lived in. It looked like braille on a rolling hill.

And then she was there. The buildings were just as run down as they had been four years previously, the wind erosion softening the edges on the broken buildings. De'Ville climbed over some rocks and into the second building. The ceiling was gone, and the walls were crumbling down, but the basic floorplan was still visible. The Dark Jedi knelt down beside a rotten desk, the rain from yearly storms having soaked the wood until it simply could not dry out.

She pulled out a drawer, and shuffled around inside it, the sides of the drawer bending as she pulled out a datapad. The pad was corrupted...but perhaps the information inside could be extracted. Lilaena sat back on her haunches, and took a datapad from her pouch, plugging the two together.

[Morgan Evanar]

Morgan followed her as best he could. He was about fifteen minutes behind her, as best as he could guess. Running through the razor grass wasn't going to work, though. So he lept, launching himself into the perpetual gale, and crashing back into the grass.

De'Ville was either too fixated on whatever it was she was looking for, or he was drowned out by the wind. The Jedi stalked about the structure before slipping inside, examining the entrances and exits.

Lileana was crouched over a pair of datapads. A smooth, mechanical click brought her head up. Morgan stood two meters away, rail pistol in hand. It was aimed right at her ear.

"Hallo De'Ville. Interesting to meet you here. Just what would you be looking for at an archeological site?" He said, his Tanaabian accent heavier than usual.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

She looked up at the sound of the rail pistol, and felt a surge of anger at being disturbed. "I would ask the same thing, Evanar. It has been a while, has it not." The Dark Jedi hadn't seen him since they had both been members of the Sith Order.

The datapad in her hand twirped as it tried to make sense of the garbled data on the old pad on her knee. De'Ville didn't look down, keeping her eyes on the Jedi Master in front of her. She had already gauged the odds of knocking the pistol away from her head, and hadn't found them favorable.

So she knelt there in silence, not moving, and waiting for him to either blow her head off or ask another question she wouldn't answer.

[Morgan Evanar]

"It has." They hadn't seen each other for about five years.

The only noise was the datapad occasionally bleeping and beeping, and the perpetual howling wind. His hand remained stone steady as he thought about what to do next.

"Trade?" De'Ville looked nonpulsed. Morgan decided he would try anyway.

"I'm looking for part of a Holocron. And yourself?"

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Holocron? There was a holocron out here? De'Ville stared impassively at Evanar. "I have reason to believe there are relics here that I am interested in." Her legs were starting to cramp, and she needed to shift positions. "If I stand up, are you going to shoot me?"

The datapad in her hand beeped one last time, and then the only sound was that of the wind whistling over the top of the walls.

[Morgan Evanar]

"I'm considering it. Your legs are probably cramping up, aren't they." He stared impassively back. He had always wondered why she hadn't either given up the dark side or become a Jedi. She just seemed less evil. She just was less evil. Morgan figured she was a victim of circumstance, and didn't know how to change.

De'Ville was dangerous despite being less evil.

"Whats on the datapad, Lileana?"

[Lilaena De'Ville]

If she told him not to use her given name, he would do it more just because it bothered her. "If I tell you...are you going to shoot me?" There was a tinge of humor to her tone of voice, but this was starting to grate on her nerves. De'Ville drew on the Force, soothing the ache in her thighs and calves.

Her eyes went to the part of the rail pistol she ccould see, and then back to his brilliant green eyes. He had betrayed the Sith Order years ago...but that didn't bother her. Actually, it made her like him a little more.

But Evanar was still a Jedi through and through. Maybe he knows Pierce. It was a detached thought, and it made her angry. Angry that she'd thought it, angry that perhaps this man was responsible for the change in her former husband. She raised an eyebrow at the Jedi as their standoff continued.

[Morgan Evanar]

What was she thinking about? Her child? Her estranged husband? Morgan had gotten better at reading people. She was angry, obviously. Her body language had changed in subtle ways, along with her pheremones.

"I'm guessing you're mad at Tondry." That drew a reaction. De'Ville's eyes dialated, her muscles tensed, and her lip quivered nearly unnocitably. He was walking a fine line here, and she was pissed at Tondry.

"If its any consolation, Jax is fine." She stared at him silently."You're really mad at Pierce. Want to talk about it?"

[Lilaena De'Ville]

"No." The single word was clipped off at the end, as if even one syllable was one too many. He hadn't moved the pistol away from her head even a millimeter. And once he did, she'd make him wish he'd been viligant longer.

The datapad in her hand started beeping insistantly, but she still didn't look down, her eyes boring into his. "I am going to unhook these two datapads, so don't be getting hasty and blowing my brains out just yet." Her tone was civil, with traces of anger. The Jedi master noticed a change in her word usage. Usually De'Ville spoke strict, unadulterated Basic, but she was slipping into a Coruscantian accent.

Her free hand moved slowly towards the thin cable holding the two pads together.

[Morgan Evanar]

This wasn't going well.

"That would be the dig data, wouldn't it." Its too bad things couldn't be more simple, or she couldn't be more cooperative.

"I'd rather not have to kill you. I know it probably would't bother you too much, to kill me." Morgan said with a hint of sadness.

"I'm willing to make a compromise, De'Ville." She looked annoyed, but pulled the cable out of the antiquated datapad. "You're the one with data."

[Lilaena De'Ville]

"The data for my life?" She took a deep breath, steadying herself a bit. "I don't even know if it's any good." The data, or your life, Lilaena? That thought made her angry too. Was her mind betraying her too?

She had little choice. "Obviously we are getting no where this way. Let me live, and I will let you live. A stalemate gets us here..and no further." It bothered her, but she tried to strike a truce with the Jedi. For now. "I will even share the data with you." Her hazel eyes looked into his green ones, wondering what he was thinking.

[Morgan Evanar]

"I think we're forgetting who has the gun here." Morgan's face continued to be impassive. "But that will be acceptable. Toss the datapad a bit to my left. If you throw it at me, I might interpret it incorrectly." His eyes bored into hers. Slowly they dialated and shifted to be more vertical. They were more motion senstive that way.

"You can have it back when I've read through it, fair enough?"

[Lilaena De'Ville]

She didn't bother shrugging, but gently levitated the datapad with the Force, moving it to the left of Morgan. It settled within easy reach of the tall Jedi, and she continued to study his eyes, watchful for a momentary lapse in attention.

They were curious...she'd never seen his pupils dilate to be slit like. Cat like. It made sense. Her mind jumped around a bit. Morgan had been with Live Wire when the TSO headquarters had been bombed. It was a shame they hadn't all died there. Life right now would be a lot less complicated.

[Morgan Evanar]

Morgan didn't take his eyes off her for an instant. He carefully lifted the datapad, and tucked it into his coat.

"I'll be back in a little bit." The Jedi dissapeared, bending the light around him and turning his Force signature into an indistinct smear.

He struck back out into the wind, trudging into another entrance. He settled into a seat that had been formed into the wall, and began to read. Morgan kept his rail pistol at ready, the barrel flush with his thigh and pointed at the entrance.

There was a lot to read through. Probably three hundred pages of text, dozens of maps, diagrams, sketches and annotations. Morgan figured he could manage it in thirty minutes.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

De'Ville pushed herself up slowly to her feet, stretching out her legs carefully after the Jedi disappeared. There was a slight disturbance in the flow of the Force...and then everything was back as it was previously. Apparently he'd left the building. Or, what was left of it.

The Dark Jedi clenched her fists in frustration, and then spun around, kicking the side of the desk. The rotten wood gave way in a spectacular spray of softness, and De'Ville slowly lowered her extended leg. She walked a few steps, and knelt down, studying the mess she'd made. Hello sweetheart, what is this?

The enormous desk had been covering up a ...something. Ther entire complex had been prefabricated buildings, imported from Corellia, but here someone had taken the time to pry up and then replace some of the flooring. Then the heavy desk had been set up on it.

De'Ville studied it for a few moments without doing anything.

[Morgan Evanar]

Text slid by, a blur to most people. Morgan was going slow for him: he soaked up every detail of every word and sketch, memorizing every map.

Nothing about a holocron. It was mostly scattered with Sith artifacts. All that was left of the Jedi were sabers, maybe a belt buckle or boot sole.

The holocron was not here. Well, it was extremely doubtful.

Morgan sighed. Some of the Sith artifacts looked worrisome though. He had said he would return the datapad to De'Ville. With a shrug, he got up and went back out into the wind.

The disrepaired desk now was little more than dust and random splinters.

"Here's your datapad."

[Lilaena De'Ville]

She turned around slow enough so as not to alarm him, and was standing right on top of the flooring section she'd uncovered. "Thanks." De'Ville held out her hand for it, watching his movements carefully, wary of the rail pistol. It wasn't pointing at her head at the moment, but reflexes were fast, and Evanar had some of the fastest.

[Morgan Evanar]

Morgan tossed it carefully, the datapad flying in a smooth arc, right into her hand.

"It didn't have what I was looking for." It did have what she was looking for though. Morgan would have to cripple or kill her if he wanted to keep the stuff unearthed, and that was a risk. He had a feeling the holocron was of overall greater importance.

"If you ever want to talk about anything..." Morgan flicked a small data card over, which she let land in the dirt, but her eyes betrayed a hint of surprise. It wasn't like he had anything to loose.

In an uncharacteristic, and perhaps foolish move, he walked out into the wind with his back turned to her.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Her right foot pressed down a little on the loose flooring as she shifted her weight, and as Morgan turned and walked into the wind, the flooring creaked. De'Ville held her breath, and knelt down slowly, picking up the small datacard.

Remaining where she was, the woman examined the card carefully, and then let it fall back to the ground. She felt out with the Force, trying to determine whether or not Evanar was really leaving. She couldn't sense him...but he might have gone invisible, or whatever that trick of his was. It was dammed annoying, and she couldn't figure out how he did it.

She was about to scan through the information on the datapad in her hand, but the flooring creaked again. As she stepped off the space, the prefabricated floor gave way, her remaining foot punching straight through the material. De'ville stumbled, but got her balance, and stood beside the hole she'd caused. It seemed to be large enough for a man to drop down through, and it appeared to lead to a tunnel. A tunnel that wasn't on any of the maps of the dig.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

She quickly, and barely any thought, lowered herself into the hole, dangling by her arms briefly before dropping to the earthy bottom. Darkness closed in around her, but the wind was finally shut out, not being able to find away into the underground passage. The Dark Jedi ran her hand along the walls, feeling their uneven surface as she stepped forward.

Extending her senses, and opening herself up to the Force, Lilaena could sense nothing above a non-sentient mole near her. She brought her hands together in front of her, manipulating the molecules above them until she had created a swirling ball of dim light. The light stayed with her left hand as she moved forward, stepping cautiously forward, curious as to where this was leading her.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

The passage narrowed, and as she kept herself open to the Force, Lilaena was suddenly chilled to the bone. The Dark side was strong here. Her light grew stronger as she walked onward...towards whatever it was at the other end of the tunnel.

The tunnel had widened into what appeared to be a burial cavern. Strange, however, as the Vors had no such customs. The sarcophagus was empty, but she could feel the spirit of whoever had died was still heavy upon this place. There was a crate, much newer than the tomb itself, obviously brought in by the archaeologists. She knelt down, half keeping an eye on the silent crypt, and rifled through the packing materials.

Inside her hand closed around a metallic cyndrillical object.

She withdrew it, and looked at it carefully, seeing the runes and etchings all over the surface of it. It felt heavy, and reeked of dark energies.