That Which Is Dead May Never Die

"You hear about that newfangled school out on that one planet, uh. I can't remember the name. Starts with a T. Tan... Tanooba. Tanabo. Toomb. Something like that."

"What you talking about, Jet?"

"These wacko Jedi wannabes have set up a school to teach kids to be Jedis. S'the craziest thing I've ever heard."

"Jedi ain't real."

"That's what I'm saying. And people are going, from what I hear. Bunch of nutjobs taking advantage of trustin' folk, I say."

"Who'd fall for a scam like that?"

"Tanaab! That's the planet. Just 'membered. Come on, there are some right dumb folk out there in the 'verse. Remember Carl? He'd fall for something like that. Promise of magic and shit."

"True that. Carl was proper stupid."

"All I can say is I hope the Empire does something about them before they start blowing up schools. Dunno what's up with these religious nutters, but they always start blowing up schools."

"Hey stranger, whatchu think about that? People pretending to be space wizards to make a bunch of credits and all that?"

"I have to go."

"What was that fella's problem? There some strange people here abouts lately."

"True that."

Zereth left the marketplace behind and headed straight for the edge of town. These old farming communities didn't have much in the way a holonet connection. They were simpler people for a simpler time. News traveled through long distance haulers like those two, and the truth was often distorted from being retold many times from one spacer to another. However, if even a molecule of their story was true it demanded investigation. The little town was left behind as Zereth's speeder stole him away into the afternoon sun. It would take several hours to return to the far removed Mandalorian camp. It gave him time to think, to dwell on the idea that some force academy had established itself on a semi-remote planet and had not been instantly razed to ashes.

Maybe there was hope in the galaxy after all.

Pulling his speeder up into the encampment he wasted no time on pleasantries or greetings, but instead headed straight for the field that doubled as a landing pad for the many small to medium sized starships Eleutheria employed. Among them was his own, the Star of Oblivion. The old girl saw little use and acted more as Zereth's home when on Dantooine than as an actual starship. Slipping inside he quickly fired up the holonet connection and established a clear link to the network matrix. A planet like Dantooine didn't always the most stable connection. With a little patience it was more than adequate. Even then, it did not take Zereth long to find what he was looking for.

Lilaena needed to see this.

---

Stealing into the main structure of the Mandalorian camp, Zereth wasted no time honing in on and finding Lilaena. As usual she was in the command hub along with her high ranking Mandalorians. Zereth had little time for etiquette and instead marched straight inside.

"Lilaena, are you aware that there is a Force Academy on the planet Tanaab?"

It came out of his mouth sounding more accusatory than he intended. Deep down he could not help but feel that this had been hidden from him, that someone as seemingly well connected as Lilaena would have heard whispers about this. Perhaps he was trying to project his feeling of failure on to others. Regardless, someone should have known. He tried to defuse his tone with a raised hand and a closed eyed nod of his head.

"What I mean to say, is that I have discovered that there is what appears to be a Force Academy situated on the planet Tanaab. They even have a holonet presence."

Commandeering the projector in the center of the command hub, Zereth punched in the holonet address that brought up an infosite for the Academy. Tanaab Force Academy, it said in big letters. It was a standard school brochure; complete with smiling teachers pointing at charts and students having fun in the common spaces of what appeared to be a stone fortress. Zereth cycled through the images before stopping on one, which showed a sandy-haired young man dressed as a teacher, in the strangely military inspired uniforms the faculty wore. Black with silver piping. He was standing over a hologram of a Bantha with a group of students, pointing and simulating conversation.

Interrupted mid-conversation, Lilaena turned from speaking with Jeng and Bretak to find Zereth wiping away the holographic charts of the Ossus system to replace it with a cheesy holonet ad.

She had seen this site before, in passing.

“It’s so blatant it can’t be real,” she said. “If the planetary government is tolerating their presence on Tanaab then it must be a farce, or a scam.”

Lilaena saw how worked up Zereth was about it, and faced the holosite to look at it more closely. “Is there something you know about it that would make it a higher priority?”

She knew! She knew, and she said nothing. Wrote it off, by her own admission. No. He was getting ahead of himself. He already knew more than she did. He could not expect her to arrive at the same conclusion as him. Still, it was unacceptable that so dangerous a thing that gone completely under the scanner without some form of investigation to determine if this was real, fake, or dangerous. Indeed, the idea of such a thing being supported by the local government made it all the more suspicious, but Zereth bit his tongue. For now.

"I am familiar with this one."

He jabbed a finger through the hologram to press closely against the face of the sandy-haired teacher.

"Ezra Na'chtion. Intellectual wunderkind from Tatooine. Studied beneath several prominent members of the scientific community; namely geneticists, zoologists, anthropologists. He has received a few awards and accolades within the community. That is what his Holopedia page says. He was on Korriban at the Sith Temple when I was there. He was one of the few survivors. He was the first to abandon our refuge on Corellia, striking out with his master. Baralai Lotus. The pair of them are as sadistic as they are intelligent. Together they studied Sith Alchemy, and their methods were incredibly cruel. If he has anything remotely to do with this Force Academy, then I fear for the worst. I do not trust Ezra."

A thought nagged at the back of his mind. Even though every instinct told him that he needed to raze this Academy to the ground to remove whatever evil the boy had created, he was reminded that he had once walked a similar path. That he had been the monster, created for war, that sought out those with power so he could become stronger at any cost. He knew the horrible things he had done, that Ezra had done. If there was a chance for redemption for a tainted soul such as his own, then perhaps there was for Ezra as well. He had idea what the little alchemist had been up to all these years. Perhaps he was on the straight and narrow. Perhaps he had turned his life around. Perhaps he too had escaped the toxic lifestyle of the Sith.

Perhaps.

"It... worries me. I do not wish to paint Ezra so poorly without justification, lest the same brush be used against me. I think an investigation is required so we can ascertain the truth. I can go myself. Ezra may be more cooperative with a familiar face."

She could sense Zereth’s strong emotions through the Force, and studied the face on the holo that he pointed out.

“With what you know of this Ezra, I agree that an investigation should be done.” Lilaena paused, considering a few options. “If you need back-up I am sure a few Mando’ade would go with you if you asked. A Sith alchemist is a danger to everyone on Tanaab if he is still practicing as you suspect he might be.”

No. I work better alone. Words that rolled out easily on well oiled rails were suddenly caught in his throat; refusing to be uttered. How many times had he said those very words? More times than he could remember. He had been alone for entire chapters of his life, sandwiched in between brief, fleeting moments of companionship. Zanon. The Juraiya. Darkan Vaal. The Sith Order. And now Eleutheria. He had trusted many of those in time, found allies he could rely on, before his journey took him elsewhere; or one was ripped violently from the other.

Eleutheria were his new allies, but it was difficult to allow that sort trust to form. He did not entirely trust Lilaena, and the group felt more fleeting than any before. It felt doomed to be erased at some point, and he would be alone again. It always seem to play out that way, that everyone else died and he lived. Either because he was stronger, or because he was not there. Sometimes he wished he had died on Korriban. Every day was a reminder of his failure. Zereth knew he couldn't keep living like this. It was not healthy. He needed this change. Any change.

"I'll take a few with me. Just in case. We can take the Star, and a few speeders."

There was bantha in the room that they had managed to skirt around this entire discussion. Zereth was not one to play games. On one hand Ezra could be everything the brochure says. A teacher at a Force Academy on a politically neutral planet with no leaning one way or another. It was possible. Unlikely, but possible. Then there was the other hand, where this school was a facade for something diabolical. A nightmare bed of evil. He spoke his next few words carefully, so there would be no confusion as to what he was asking. Should Ezra live or die.

"What should I do if Ezra turns out to be everything I fear?"

Lilaena looked curiously at Zereth. “What do you want to do, if that is the case? I do not necessarily have anything against people practicing the Force in whatever way they choose.”

He wanted more from her, she knew, and he was an ally she wanted to keep happy. Lilaena narrowed her eyes a bit.

”If this Ezra is out of control, and in your experience with the man you think he will continue doing his vile experiments and putting populaces in danger for nothing but his own amusement... If you want back up in clearing the nest let me know.”

She gestured to the holosite. “Not all of these people can know his darkest tendencies, and may not be aware what they have signed up for. Be careful.”

Careful not to needlessly slaughter them, and careful not to leave them as knives at his back. A very fine line to walk.

For yet a moment he stood silent, reconsidering his long held believes in exactly what the course of action would be should he ever encounter the likes of Ezra Na'chtion again. In the span of those seconds of silent contemplation he found himself pushing his long held beliefs, but they always circled back on themselves, feeding back into redundancies that always took them to the same conclusion in the end.

"I will do what is necessary. Thank you for your counsel."

With a fluttering of cloaks he whipped out of the room. Leaving it's population to resume whatever action he had interrupted in the first place. No doubt planning another bloody conflict in what was very much starting to feel like a war. However, that was a discourse for another time. For now he was solely focused on bringing resolution to his current predicament. Ezra needed to be sorted out, one way or another. In his mind he could only see this absolving one of two ways; either Ezra was genuinely participating in some kind of force academy and not peddling a grander, darker narrative; or he was simply put continuing the kind of terrifying dark arts that he and his master allegedly participated in.

He would find out soon enough.

The Star of Oblivion was quickly prepped and readied for take off. The brief respite spent off-loading materials crucial to the effort here on Dantooine. There was no guarantee that he would be returning, and all these supplies would do him precious little in most circumstances. Better to travel light, just him and his big empty ship; the one that had once been the flying headquarters of the Sith Order after the Fall of Korriban. The artifacts from those days could be still be found here and there, some left where they had been stored and never retrieved, others enshrined in locked chests. Ezra would recognize the ship, no doubt. Fast and light. In and out.

Everything was cleared out and the ship lifted off into the sky carrying only it's single crewman and armed only with his personal armory. It would have to be sufficient.