Glad Tidings of Shiny Rocks

Pandath, Maarek reflected, considered itself a city. Those who hailed from Coruscant or Denon or Metellos might chuckle; they might not even hide it. Compared to the raiding camps of Maarek's kinfolk, though, Pandath was downright cosmopolitan. His tongue flicked, tasting spice and motor oil on the air. And something else, a scent that existed as much in his mind as in his physical senses.

He bared his teeth in a grin and hitched his backpack over his shoulder in a jangle of crystals. They, too, had a scent. Blue upari, cut in various patterns with differing degrees of expertise, hailed from his home system. Upari tasted of forests and sweat and the cold of space. Then there were the pink-and-yellow crystals called dantari; the merchant had sworn they'd come from dragon-eggs on Dantooine. They certainly smelled reptilian, in a refreshing way. Maarek hadn't yet figured out what to do with them, but he'd started to consider them a good-luck charm. And then there were the bluish firkrann, which smelled like plastic and the numb fear of prey, and gave him a little shock whenever he touched them.

An old datalink, long kept hidden from the rest of his Dosh, offered one set of information on these things. His instincts offered another truth entirely. But if rumor was correct -- the kind of rumor one wrung from a slave -- this university outside Pandath could bridge his gut and his mind. Could tell him, potentially, why these shiny rocks felt special to him and not to anyone else.

Maarek's tongue flicked again, this time with a hint of shameful nervousness. He glanced back at the interplanetary ferry, sure he'd felt someone's gaze boring a hole between his shoulderblades, but nothing presented itself. Shouldering his second pack, which rustled with bone, Maarek set off toward the university.

"Vice Chancellor, pardon my intrusion, but I just received word from the spaceport that a Trandoshan male was seen arriving in the city today."

"Thank you Tarl."

From among the stacks of books, scattered datapads, and active console screens, the head of Ezra Na'chtion stirred, glancing up only a moment to meet the eyes of his secretary before the man disappeared back out the office door. Pulling the pair of glasses off his face he pinched the bridge of his nose and leaned back in his chair. Allowing his eyes to close he finally gave them rest from the tedium of the day. If he was not so certain otherwise, he would admit he was feeling old and worn out. Running the Academy was turning into a much larger work load than either he or Frygt had ever imagined. It was not the trials of academia that wore at his body and mind. He could teach students and manage schedules with ease. Those things came naturally. It was the knowledge that he was losing all his free time that haunted him. Without it he had no time in which to devote to his experiments. His children went days without seeing him, and he would go weeks without seeing progress in their growth.

At least this small tidbit of information brought distraction. A Trandoshan on Tanaab, or most planets, was quite something. The puzzle was a welcome guest in a mind now filled with spreadsheets and mediocrity. Turning in his chair he leapt from it's padded surface and plodded to the window. Beyond the glass, beyond the grounds of the academy, stretched the rolling hills of Tanaab. A planet of Agriculture, and little else. There was little reason for a Trandoshan to travel to such a world. Although, Ezra had to admit that he knew very little about their species. He considered himself an incredibly educated individual, but at this stage in life he had become much more fixated on creating new lifeforms rather than studying those which already existed.

"Tarl." The man reappeared in the doorway like magic. "Have someone keep an eye on the Trandoshan. I do not want an incident. We are under enough scrutiny without some sort of fiasco making it to the holonet."

A Trandoshan was one thing. A Trandoshan entering an institution of higher learning was quite another. And when said Trandoshan carried two large and noisy bags -- one full of assorted Force crystals, one full of bones -- the anomaly entered the realm of the downright iffy. Hence the misunderstanding with security; hence the pat-down; hence the discovery that 85% of those bones came from sentients. Hence the small bland room off the campus security office.

Maarek tried, and tried hard, to be patient. Out there, he knew, pudgy humanoids with unrealized life goals were poking through his portable memory bone chamber. They were puzzling over his collection of special stones, and he seriously doubted they knew anything of worth on the subject. On the other hand, if he remained calm -- or at least kept his rage banked -- the situation would ultimately end up in the hands of someone with a clue. Then, perhaps, he'd find answers to his questions. In the meantime, he appeared to be a prisoner in the most cursory sense: no binders, no guard. The door was unlocked, neither chair nor table was bolted to the floor, and the styroplast cup of murky brown water could probably scald to an incapacitating degree.

Not that he anticipated violence, of course. Eventually, campus security would scratch its collective head and seek an expert opinion from a higher authority. He could wait until then.

"Sir, the Trandoshan had been detained. He was trying to enter the grounds with, quite frankly, disturbing items on his person."

"And how many people died?"

"I'm afraid I don't understand, Vice-Chancellor. Nobody died."

"Thank you Tarl. I will take care of this personally. Inform the security team that I am on my way."

---

It did not take long for Ezra to remove himself from his gilded office and make his way to the security office where the Trandoshan was being held. His stern look and sharp uniform, almost militaristic in appearance, made up for the youthfulness of his face and the shortness of his stature. He was easily identified as he walked across the grounds and through corridors. Faculty got out of the way and students whispered in his passing. He carried no visible weapons. They were prohibited on school grounds outside of the corresponding lightsabre classes. However, that hardly meant he was unarmed. A lightsabre was an ill-fitted weapon for an alchemist.

Stepping into the holding room, Ezra was occampanied by two security officers who each carried one of the Trandoshan's bags, which were set on the outside edges of the table, so as to not obscure vision, and then departed, leaving him alone with the alien. The door closed with a bang that resonated in the small room. Ezra waited until the sound had faded away before speaking. "Hello. I am Ezra Na'chtion; Vice-Chancellor of this academy. Do you speak basic?"

Do you speak adult? Maarek held his forked tongue. The guards, the uniform, the title, and the boy's demeanor suggested a path of caution rather than derision. And there was something else -- something on the wind, he'd have said if he was outdoors. Besides, he was hardly an expert in humanoid biology. Perhaps some near-human variants aged backward, slowly, or not at all. Some worlds even trusted their thrones to prepubescents.

"Horont. I do." Maarek tasted the air. "I find myself flattered, Vice-Chancellor Na'chtion. How many prospective students get to meet with administrators at your level?"

Heavy claws pricked the styroplast cup daintily. Maarek drained the caf and offered a toothy smile, then replaced the cup on the table, near one of the bags. He tapped it. Bones clattered inside. "I presume this misunderstanding stems from my personal effects, sir. I offered an explanation, but I doubt it was well received or, indeed, understood." Another smile, though that, too, might be misunderstood. "The pitfalls endemic to cultural sensitivity, even on a modern campus."

By the Scorekeeper, but it felt good to use words of more than one syllable. Loquacity didn't go over well in Trandoshan merc camps. Perhaps, he admitted, he was laying it on a bit thick. Nerves.

"Very few. Not many show up at the gate with a bag full of bones, and another full of raw lightsabre focusing crystals. It's quite the inventory. The security team was being understandably cautious."

The Trandoshan was well spoken. For a Trandoshan. It was a great distinction, considering that in his mind the entire species of a bunch of blood thirsty barbarians that somehow managed to develop spaceflight technology just so that they could spread their pestilence and poor culture across the galaxy. Like a trash missile. This one was different. Keen, articulate, and despite his situation he seemed at home in the holding room. Like he wasn't being held at all. The fact that nobody had lost an arm, or a life, said even more. Trandoshans were a violent people. Whatever this thing was, calling it a Trandoshan would be an insult. Not that he would ever say as much.

"I know you already spoke to the security team about your items, but I would like to hear it from you first hand. If you could humor me. Why do you have the bones and crystals?"

Maarek prodded the bag on his right; dry bones rasped against each other. "This is what's known as a memory bone chamber, admittedly without the chamber. It has immense cultural significance. In the most prosaic sense, you could consider it a collection of trophies. Some of the bones are of particular interest to me -- they spark my curiosity. Nighthunter, uller, jakobeast horn." They, too, had a scent, at least in his mind's eye -- the jakobeast horn especially.

"As for the crystals, I admit I don't know much about lightsabres. It's the sort of weapon that has never held my interest, and I didn't know my humble rocks could be used in lightsabre construction. I'm not, however, immensely surprised. These crystals and gemstones have a scent, or a taste. To use the terminology of the HoloNet's poor sources, they resonate in the Force. I study them: their effects, their combinations, their derivatives." He opened that bag and a couple of loose blue-white stones spilled out, each the size of his thumbnail. "These ones are upari, from Kashyyyk orbit. They're found across the galaxy, orbiting certain forest planets. Several cultures have realized, independently, that these crystals affect the tangible and intangible universe in strange ways, depending on how they're cut. The Wookiees, the Gormak of Voss, others."

He held up one precisely-cut chunk of upari between his claws. "This is from a broken Gormak alpha-wave inhibitor, a rare piece of technology. I've found, in my travels, that certain places can have a deleterious effect on one's mind. This particular crystal can blunt such effects, protecting the mind. And upari, from what I've discovered, can be cut to produce numerous, ah, superstitious results.

"If this is all familiar to you, I apologize. Suffice it to say, I feel confident that your academy can offer more information than I currently have. I believe I've reached the limits of independent research and experimentation. My curiosity is not sated."

Ezra listened patiently, allowing the Trandoshan to give his explanation. The trophies were gruesome and not something he entirely understood. Then again, he was not a man who felt any kinship to items or collected any. Objects were just objects to him. They either served a purpose or they had none. When he saw something he searched it for worth. A new species of animal was something to be studied to see if he could make use of it's parts to meld into a new adaptation of his sithspawn. He kept no trophies. Everything was used. Nothing went to waste in his laboratories. He kept no trophies. Only living, breathing records of his achievement.

The crystals proved a much more interesting subjects. Ezra's face became a mask of curiosity. He had thought he knew about the potential in lightsabre crystals, but it would seem that they were good for more than slapping into an ancient weapon. His own was out of the ordinary, but it still seemed primitive compared to the devices and functions that the Trandoshan was describing. It caused wheels to start spinning in his mind, of ideas, concepts, and prototypes that he could have in the works by the end of the month. A shake of his head dislodged those ideas. He had not the time to drop all he had accomplished and spill it all into a new venture. Regardless of how tempting it might be.

"I admit I am no authority on the subject. My own specialty is in the biologic, I am afraid. You have come to the right place to learn more. I believe Professor Klix has a more intimidate knowledge of crystals. I am sure he would be a valuable resource to you. I can arrange a meeting. Will you be staying on with the Academy mister..." He looked down at the security report he had in his hand. "...Maarek, or will you be passing through?"

I want you in the Order, you intriguing mystery....

One hairless eyebrow rose. "I have the option?" said the Trandoshan, deadpan. He steepled his hands, claws clicking together. "I've come a long way and crossed a hazardous border to join this Academy, Chancellor. I'd be a fool not to accept."

Maarek tucked the chunk of upari back into his bag and closed the clasp. "If your Professor Klix has the time, I'd love to meet with him after I've spoken to your registrar. The Scorekeeper alone knows I have a few questions for him. I've come this far through self-directed study, HoloNet research, random chance, and gut instinct. I look forward to taking an academic tack on my areas of interest."

The meeting, he sensed, might be drawing to a close. He stood and slung one bag over each shoulder. "Thank you for taking the time to meet with me, Chancellor." He offered a toothy smile. "I'll be certain to keep my memory bone chamber out of sight of any further misunderstandings."

"See that you do. We wish to promote a safe environment, and some might find their feathers ruffled by your trophies. If you have any troubles during you stay, please come see me directly. All are welcome to learn at this Academy. Welcome student Maarek." Ezra offered a hand to the Trandoshan. A universally accepted gesture of meeting that would hopefully not offend or be misinterpreted. Once again he was at a loss with Trandoshan culture, but still went for the gesture all the same. If he was going to be a member of this academy he would need to learn this sort of thing. Integration was a must. He had little doubt that this Maarek would have any issues with that. He seemed incredible intelligent. Perhaps too intelligent. For a Trandoshan at any rate.

Ezra would have to keep an eye on this one.