Jedi Artisan 022

Zane comfortably sat back in a beach chair, a sugary drink similar to thai tea in hand. Taking an annoyingly loud, satisfying sip from his drink, he observed Quinlan Vos clean up the workshop. 

His workshop smelled of cedar, machine oil, polished stone, and fresh varnish. Lightsaber components rested in velvet-lined trays. Hand-carved sculptures stood beside half-finished instruments. Delicate clocks ticked softly on shelves, while stained-glass lamps painted colorful patches across the polished floor.

Every object had its place. Which was why the trail of destruction leading through the center of the room was so offensive.

Quinlan Vos dragged a bucket across the floor with all the enthusiasm of a condemned prisoner. 

“What did I do to deserve this?” The teen muttered to himself. 

Zane slowly looked over the workshop, cataloging a shattered vase, three overturned shelves, and a ceiling fan that leaned several degrees to the left.

"...yes. Indeed. What.” Zane deadpanned. “Maximum destruction. Minimum effort. You have a gift, truly."

"So...how long am I doing this?" Quinlan tentatively asked with the hint of a bashful smile. 

"...After you finish polishing every brass fitting in this workshop." Zane yawned back. 

The smile vanished instantly.

"There are hundreds!" The boy exclaimed.

Quinlan groaned loudly enough to make an echo. As he trudged toward another shelf, he noticed dozens of tiny wooden carvings. It was full of animals, aliens, ancient Jedi, and scary Sith. 

"They're...actually kind of amazing." Quinlan stated. 

"They are, aren't they? Some real interesting figures like Darth Malgus, Revan, or a favorite of mine, Master Vodo-Siosk Baas.” Zane casually said. “You know his ghost is still out there somewhere, waiting to slay his erstwhile apprentice once and for all.” 

“You have carvings of Sith Lords?” Quinlan said, barely able to maintain a straight face. 

“There is much to learn from the past. For example, Revan flew too close to the sun. His fall is a lesson on what not to do. But that isn't a history an initiate is meant to hear.” Zane said in a deliberately mysterious tone, barely able to refrain from smirking. 

Quinlan narrowed his eyes, holding his tongue, biding his time. After another stretch of sweeping, polishing, and carrying lumber, sweat dripped from the teenager's forehead.

Mop and bucket in hand, the kid-probably 13 or 14-practically had lines on his face, such was his dissatisfaction due to several hours worth of work. 

“Let this be a lesson to you, wannabe Jedi Shadows. If I were a Sith, or Dark Acolyte, cleaning this mess would be the least of your worries.” Zane lectured as if he were some peak moral paragon. 

Quinlan muttered under his breath once again, scrubbing the floor with a furious intensity. 

“Pwah.” Zane smacked his lips in satisfaction after another sip. It was refreshing to be the one on the other side of authority for once. 

During this cleanup, Zane lazily sat from his ‘throne’ and with a few swipes of his hands, reconnected the broken flooring, and bits of masonry. After a few squeezes, it came out looking good as new. 

The Vinsoth paused in his rapid scrubbing, and stared at the freshly repaired, good as new flooring in surprise. 

“Oi, stop slacking.” Zane berated in a tired tone. 

“How did you do it?” Quinlan asked with a furrowed brow. 

“Very carefully.” Zane responded with a blithe grin. 

“...hmph, I'll learn your secrets.” Quinlan whispered to himself, and continuously touched counter tops, walls, and other objects that were permanent fixtures of the workshop. 

The Padawan was a natural at Psychometry, the ability to live a past event after touching an inanimate object. With a skill such as this, he was a born investigator, or in his case, a trained spy for the Order. Upon touching the walls, the teen must've seen some juicy content, because his face rapidly altered between surprise, confusion, loss, and…curiosity. 

“Now that you've seen my secrets, do you think you can still leave this workshop without paying the price?” Zane said from behind the youth. 

“When did you?!” Quinlan got out, when suddenly, he was fully wrapped in strength infused Endless Thread. 

Cocooned tight, with only his neck revealed, the teen was wriggling like a fly that had been caught in the spider's web. Flung up onto the wall, he was then hung upside down. Quinlan tried reaching for his lightsaber, but his limbs were bound tight, he couldn't move! 

“Knight Zane. What is the meaning of this?” Quinlan demanded, attempting to maintain a calm veneer. 

“A Master Watchman and his Psychometrist apprentice snoop around the Order's only qualified Artisan's workshop in the dead of night. Said Artisan was just in an important meeting with the leader of the First Council of First Knowledge, and the Grandmaster. If one was being even the slightest bit suspicious, he might think a conspiracy was afoot.” Zane said in a faux pondering tone. At the same time, he twirled his finger, making the cocoon slowly rotate. 

“It's not like that! Master Th-ahem, Master was merely testing my abilities. I've been his Padawan for less than a month, and the Temple was the safest place to train…” Quinlan explained like a kid that was only following his teacher's orders. 

Zane halted the cocoon, and stared into the Vinsoth's eyes. They were practically sparkily, attempting to be innocent, like a rabbit. ‘No, hold on, they are brighter than normal eyes! Sonnuva-! Trying to get my sympathy? This crafty nerf herder. So that's how you want to play it?’ 

“Hmm. I didn't see you with the other graduates here to gather your robe. How can I be so sure you are even a Jedi, and not some Dark Acolyte? That ability to disappear in the shadows, it isn't of the Lightside, is it? A man could be exiled from the Order, or worse. Tell me, young Vos, what is your Master's name?” Zane asked in an idle, yet dangerous tone. 

Quinlan bit his lower lip, and appeared to be distressed, then his facial features flashed with a ruthless resolve. “My mission this time around was to steal a robe, Knight Zane. Besides, you already know so much about me, I'm clearly a Padawan, a Psychometrist as you said. But what about you?” 

A small, devilish grin spread across the boy's face, as if to say ‘I know all your secrets~~~.’ 

“Oh, and what do you think you know?” Zane asked in a dark tone, as if he were truly scared of this ‘hidden’ information. 

“I've seen you go through countless objects, explosions, and nearly lethal encounters. For one, ownership of things is strictly forbidden by the Order. Secondly, your function is the repair & creation of robes, this secondary hobby must cost a great deal, and is corrupt hypocrisy at its finest. Lastly, heh. Black lace.” 

Sentence after sentence, the smug look on the brat's face became stronger and stronger. As if he weren't the one tightly wrapped up and imprisoned, but that it was Zane who was in his place. 

Zane pretended to be highly offended, the color of his face rapidly changing from red to white. Thanks to Oogway's training, he had learned countless skills, and if he wished, could even change the color of someone/something with the Force…a rudimentary power once one studied enough. During his performance, the kid practically began to sneer. 

“Loth cat got your tongue?” Quinlan said in a confident tone. “Heh. So. Here's what's going to happen. You're going to untie me, hand me a set of Jedi robes, and you won't see me until I have need of you again. Someone of your, ah, talents is particularly useful for those in my line of work.” 

“Y-you!-” Zane gasped, pointing a finger at the boy as if he were truly enraged, and speechless. “-Are pretty scary, aren'tcha, huh you little Bantha shit?” 

Quinlan blinked, not expecting such a rapid change in personality. “Idiot-” He got out, only for Zane to clasp a hand, slamming the kid's mouth shut with a meaty thunk. 

“Now it is my turn to speak, you listen.” Zane said in an aloof, somewhat predatory voice. 

The kid still had that defiant, arrogant look about him, to which Zane could only tsk. This brat truly didn't understand the pecking order. 

“One. You truly have no idea the importance and value a Jedi Artisan has for the Order. Perhaps your Master does, as I am aware how important and rare a skilled Watchman is. His test for you, is also a test for me. First, my martial skills were challenged, then you gathered information to spy upon my past, to see if I am a secret Darksider. A commendable action. Lastly, he is testing my patience and style, likely reticent after learning of my rather colorful record. Unfortunately, boy, you were a rather witless pawn in this matter.” Zane explained his hypothesis, and with the flick of a hand, undid the thread spool, releasing the boy. 

Quinlan easily flipped onto his feet, wearily looking up at him, only to catch a full set of Jedi robes that were thrown at him. Working his magic, Zane had sewed it all rather easily whilst the cocoon was coming undone. 

“It is a pity you did not get to enjoy time with your fellow graduates one last time. An occupation such as yours carries with it great risks.” Zane sighed in pity. 

A Watchman was dedicated to the destruction of all things tainted by the Darkside. This included people, places, objects, knowledge, everything. Often sent to hunt down rogue Dark Jedi-the colloquial term for any Darkside Force Sensitive-theirs was an inglorious job. 

“Whilst the Sentinels are the mailed fist protecting the heart of the Order, the Guardians the sword of light in trying times, and Consulars the bright minds guiding peace…it is you few Watchmen who safeguard our Order from the shadows. Whilst I am cross at what you have done, I am not blind towards your function. One does not hate white blood cells for following their nature. Nor do I hate a Watchman for probing an Artisan.” Zane said, and with a cheeky smile, roughly rubbed the cheeky brat's dreadlocks. 

Bowing his head, the teen scowled at the headrubbing. 

“Knight Zane…my Master will keep his eye on you. Your actions toe the line between Light & Dark…stay safe.” Quinlan ultimately replied with a quiet whisper, and then suddenly jumped back, freshly crafted robe in hand. 

Zane waved at the kid, knowing that even though he was determined to stop Palpatine as soon as he assassinated Plagueis, that didn't mean the future of the Jedi Order wasn't in peril. Dooku was still dissatisfied with the Order-hell, so was Zane!-and countless Darkside artifacts & ghosts could tempt young, impressionable Jedi. 

Sighing to himself, the young man ran a hand through his hair, casting away all those heavy thoughts. Tomorrow, he would set out for Mandalore, and right now, it was already late at night. Since sleep wasn't an option, he might as well have some fun on the town.