CHAPTER FOUR
Had they not been concealed by anti-oxygen goggles, the Jedi Master's eyes would have bulged with concern as she examined the exterior of the Sith holocron she held in her hands. After a few minutes of silence, Lexa Varr looked up at the pair that had delivered the relic.
"How exactly did you come across this?"
"Governor Pol Zurn was planning on delivering it to someone called Scur Bodalla, who we presume is a Black Sun Vigo," said Loth. "We took the delivery into our own hands and brought it here so a forgery could be made to give Bodalla and so the real one could be hidden away for safe-keeping."
The Kel Dor Jedi seemed to relax as she slowly nodded. "I see. Good thinking on your part, Agent Ja'far."
Setting down the holocron, she then said, "As for creating a forgery, that could be... difficult. In order to create a perfect copy, one must focus on the will of the dark side, which isn't exactly... possible for a Jedi."
"I understand," Loth said. "In that case, do you not have a... less dangerous Sith holocron that would be of less use to our customer?"
"It really all depends on what this Bodalla person plans on doing with the holocron," Lexa said as she started to lead Loth and Wes Janson towards a chamber at the far end of the Jedi Archives.
Placing her wrinkled palm against the door, the chamber acknowledged her prowess in the Force and granted entrance. She signaled for Loth and Janson to stay behind while she headed into the chamber, eventually reemerging with a pyramidal object not unlike the one they had given her.
"This is a Sith holocron we found somewhere in the Esstran sector shortly before the Glorian War. Master Baran had examined its contents but could find nothing of much use to potential future Sith. Either way, handle it carefully."
Nodding, Loth took the holocron and bowed. "Thank you for your assistance, Master Varr."
"You are quite welcome," Lexa said, "and thank you for bringing this holocron into our custody. May the Force be with you."
Loth quietly scoffed as he and Janson turned to leave the Jedi Temple on Ossus. If the Force was truly with us, we wouldn't be in this situation in the first place.
* * *
Governor Pol Zurn wiped off the storm of sweat that had broken out on his forehead. He hoped beyond all hope that the human and his Bothan companion would get the holocron delivered to Scur Bodalla. Failing to do so would incur the wrath of not only the Black Sun, but also their current benefactors.
As he paced back and forth in his office, the door to it suddenly slid open and a figure cloaked in gray appeared before him. Zurn let out a yelp and prepared to call for his guards but his mouth was forcefully kept shut by an invisible hand.
"I am not here to harm you," the stranger said. His face was concealed by a low hood but his gender was obvious from his masculine voice. "I am here to question you."
"I won't answer you," the Advozse said once he could. "But you will answer me. How did you get in here? Who are you?"
"How is it fair for you to deny answering my queries and expect me to answer yours?" The stranger's voice was colder than any ice world Zurn had ever been to. "It is only fair that you answered me first."
Zurn snorted. "I suppose it's only fair that I answer you first."
"What was that object you were having delivered to Eriadu?"
"A Sith holocron."
"Belonging to whom?"
The governor racked his memory for the answer. He had never been that intrigued by Jedi or Sith history, so he was terrible at remembering the names of famous historical figures.
"It was Darth something," he finally said. "A lot of people with that name. Don't know which one it was."
"Think harder," the stranger urged.
The Advozse's forehead wrinkled in concentration. "It was... Darth... Necrosis. Yes, that's right. Darth Necrosis."
The stranger slowly nodded. "I see. Well, thank you for your time, Governor."
"Any time," Zurn said with a grin.
As the stranger left, the Advozse then frowned, unable to shake off the peculiar sensation he had felt during their concentration.
* * *
Striding out of Governor Zurn's residence, removing his influence from the Advozse and his guards, Benor Sardan mulled over what he had just discovered.
In his research of the Sith, however limited it was, he had never come across the name Darth Necrosis. While, in the grand scheme of things, this hardly meant much, he still wondered if Zurn or the person who had given him the holocron had fabricated the name to throw people off the scent.
As he approached his silver and black Delta-7B light interceptor, his astromech companion R8-J6 whirred in greeting.
"Set a course for Eriadu, Jaysix," Sardan said as he climbed into the fighter. "We have a holocron to find."
As the cockpit's canopy slid over his head, Sardan suddenly felt a twinge of dread. One way or another, this mission was not going to end well.
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