"Good evening!" a clerk greeted me at the central bank of Sernpidal City. "What's your business? Our bank, unfortunately, cannot perform truly important operations right now, as there is less than an hour until closing."
The man was dressed in a black, almost shiny suit, with neatly slicked-back hair.
"If you need to conduct a truly serious transaction, it would be better to come tomorrow, sir," he finished his speech.
The capital planet's bank didn't look particularly ornate. Actually, the navigator had offered me about five different bank branches with vault cell services. Why the central one? I was banking on the oldest bank on the planet, with a huge reputation, not going out of its way to find out who had hidden what in their cell... More precisely — I would have to give my true identity. After all, I am a perfectly official person, a member of the Jedi Order. Minimal information about every Jedi is recorded in the Databases. Of course, no one will write, say, exactly where I am right now, or my parents' address, or release videos from all my missions. But lying here — is not advisable.
Wait until tomorrow morning? I can't take that risk, because I'll return to the "Star Trek," where Kuro will also be. She will definitely sense the medallion... Ah... And she's a beautiful woman right now, in the very prime of her beauty. But she clearly draws a line between us — that we are only teacher and student. On the other hand — when did I become a ladies' man? Of course, the idea of romancing all the top beauties of this universe sounds interesting. Except for Rey from the new canon, I only have a desire to perform Mou Kei on her body... And Kuro... She doesn't deviate from her canonical image — there's no special bond between teacher and student... As they say — "it's not pedagogical.".. Though at my university, in my first life, there was a teacher like that — all the male students ran after her and practically fell to their knees.
She always treated me in some strangely kind way. But anyway, forget her, she stayed there. And I am here now, trying to put a Sith artifact in a bank...
"Good evening," I bowed slightly. "I'd like to know: is it possible to open a bank vault cell today? Or should I come tomorrow?"
"Hmm, let me think," the man put his hand to his chin. "How old are you? By law: sentients under eighteen standard years can only open such a thing in the presence of a guardian... Parents, adoptive parents. Moreover, a specific contract is drawn up. It's initially written in the parents' name, but a minor is added as an additional owner, who gets full access at eighteen."
"I'm a Jedi," I said calmly.
The man's eyes scanned me twice as hard: my clothes, my figure, my face.
"A Jedi?" he asked in a surprised tone. "I heard that members of the Jedi Order came here to put an end to the disappearances of sentients. So you did it?"
"Yes, I'm one of those who arrived. A Padawan," I said calmly.
"Well, that settles it. Even if you're under eighteen, you're essentially eligible to open a cell with us."
"Hm?" I tilted my head.
"What's strange about that, Jedi?" the man asked. "You're one of the ones who saved my niece. My family knows how to be grateful. Additionally, those who have completed Jedi training are considered adults."
I looked at him in surprise. No, he was right. A Jedi Knight is indeed considered an adult citizen of the Republic. But everyone knows perfectly well that I'm a Padawan. That information can't be hidden, if only because a sentient's status in the Jedi Order is also displayed when accessing the system. The man suddenly closed the distance, leaning toward my ear.
"I perfectly understand your surprise, but the world isn't that big, despite its seeming scale. You helped my family, even if mostly unknowingly. I'll help you and turn a blind eye to the fact that you're still not a Knight, strictly speaking. As a manager, I can... make some concessions. Come..."
The man turned sharply and strode away from me. So he'll help me? Sometimes I'd show caution, but right now I didn't sense any deception from him. The man headed to the second floor, which was no longer a huge hall with teller stations and clerk workstations. It consisted of neat rows of offices, probably for senior staff. We entered one of them. "Elron Ort" read the nameplate... Client Relations Manager. The office was tastefully furnished. The furniture looked rich.
"So, I suppose I'll introduce myself," the man sat down in a plush chair. "My name is Elron Ort. You saved my niece, Christa Ort. My brother was beside himself with joy when you brought him his daughter from the kidnapper. I'm sure gratitude from his side won't be long in coming. But truly — the providence of the Force directed you to me. You're that Jedi who participated in rescuing my niece, aren't you? Sephi race, short, a regular face, and purple eyes. Dressed in clothes combining black and white." I almost snorted. Black and white... Purple eyes... Should I change my style? I hadn't thought that I was copying Yennefer of Vengerberg, not just looking flashy. On the other hand — no one here knows about that woman, so no one will laugh at me? And why would they... It's just a coincidence... Probably. "Please, have a seat."
"Alright," I sat down and clasped my hands in front of my face. "I'll use your services, Elron. But I need complete anonymity. And guarantees that no one will open my cell."
"Even if Grand Master Yoda himself, along with the Supreme Chancellor, demands it be opened, we'll first send them to Court. And courts in the Republic take half a year, so don't worry. I genuinely want to help you..."
"Light Flyingstar," I gave my name.
The man glanced at the computer on his desk and quickly typed my first and last name.
"That's correct, Padawan. But the system isn't so easily fooled. A Padawan is not yet a Knight. And I need an adult identity to enter into the database. Do you want to use your mentor's name?"
"If I wanted that, I would have come with her," I hissed. But that would be suicide. Entering Kuro's name when creating a cell in which I plan to store a medallion once created by a Sith. And even if the bank doesn't inform her, she could theoretically find out about it somehow... Or am I demonizing Kuro after the inspection? She humiliated me thoroughly... It's more that I'm afraid of her, because I understand perfectly well that she could, if something happened, declare me a renegade and bury me somewhere far from Coruscant without a second thought. "Can I specify another adult?"
"Hmm... Something personal?" the man asked.
"You have no idea how personal. Nevertheless, I'm sure my mentor wouldn't understand if she found out exactly what I put in the cell. This thing... It was connected to my first Teacher, who died in my arms. In our Order," I tried to imitate a sorrowful tone... just not to overdo it. "They view this a bit differently than in other parts of the Galaxy. We're not supposed to have attachments..."
"I've heard about that," Elron said thoughtfully. "That's why I think you Jedi have been slipping lately. No offense meant — but how can you try to protect someone you don't even try to understand, imposing what's unacceptable to most?"
"The Jedi are full of contradictions," I agreed. "But I didn't come to debate my Order's shortcomings, Mr. Elron," I reminded him.
"Alright. Do you know another adult sentient I could put in the contract? No offense, but I won't act as your guardian in the contract, even though I see you're a perfectly worthy young man."
"No offense taken... Put my father, Dennis Flyingstar, from the planet Tustra. I'm sure he won't mind helping me..."
"Tustra... Tustra," the man said, turning his attention to the computer. "It's midday there now. Specifically in the location where the Sentient with that name resides. This is about the master mechanic from the Royal Palace, right?" I nodded. "Good. Send a message to your father, have him give his consent and send us his fingerprint. With your consent and mine — the contract will be initiated. The cost of renting a Bank vault cell is five hundred credits per year. An Aurodium one — fifteen hundred. Unfortunately, I physically cannot give you a discount on this."
"I didn't ask for one," I shrugged. "Give me the account number..."
"Maybe it's better to create an account here and transfer the money? Auto-debit will be set up..."
"No. Sorry, but I don't intend to keep this thing for longer than three years. So there's no need to create an account, for now," I added the last two words, seeing the man frown. Oh, these bank employees. Create an account, rent a cell... And a credit card, or in this case a chip, wouldn't you like one? Have you heard about speeder leasing? Want a housing loan? Maybe you'd like another chip for installment plans? And when you refuse, world-weariness appears on their face, something even Palpatine himself would empathize with.
"Well... That's your right," the man said calmly. "So which cell?"
"What's included in an 'Aurodium' one?"
"Aurodium cells are located underground. They are many times better protected. You can also customize the retrieval procedure to your liking. For instance — some kind of riddle. Regular cells use system-generated passwords. In Aurodium ones — additional client conditions are added to those."
"Then I'll take an Aurodium one," I said. The man brought up the bank's account in front of me. "I think I'll pay for a year for now."
Your crap... A seven percent commission? Choke on it!
"Then," Elron clapped his hands, and an ordinary protocol droid entered. It brought two envelopes, a sheet of paper, and a pen. It even made my eyes hurt seeing what was brought. Ancient relics... "You need to write the essence of your test on the sheet of paper. As well as the correct answer itself for accessing the cell. Both envelopes will remain in the bank. The envelope with the correct answer — is sealed in your presence. I guarantee you that the Central Bank of Sernpidal City will never open it until you arrive to retrieve your item from the cell."
So, what to come up with? I looked at the white sheet of paper... Hmm... Right. Smiling, I wrote on the first sheet:
"What do we do with Disney's garbage?"
And on the second:
"We won't consider Disney's garbage as canon."
A perfect password. No one but me will ever guess it. Putting the sheets into the envelopes, I handed them to the droid.
"You were quick," the man smiled. "Sometimes sentients spend hours remembering the birthdays of their second cousins, great-aunts, and grandfathers... The rest is up to the bank. Now we'll go downstairs, to the underground level, to a special room. It's located right in front of the vault cell repository. That's where everyone hands over their items to the Bank, and that's where the Bank returns everything that's demanded. You'll hand the droid the item, in my presence, and you'll observe as it places your item in the cell, and then — we'll wipe its memory of the item. That's standard procedure."
Yeah, they're thorough here. Eventually, I left the Bank satisfied, almost at its closing time. I'll have to wait a while to be filled with ancestral knowledge. I just need to think about who to summon... Let's say Valkorion — who is also Vitiate and Tenebrae — I'm definitely not touching. I recently read a fanfic involving him, and I've played Knights of the Old Republic. No, no way... I don't want to summon that super-powerful old guy. I doubt a medallion of his own servant would subdue him. What about someone else... From the period when Valkorion lived — maybe Revan, Satele Shan, Bastila Shan... Quite strong Jedi. Though Revan stands out from that trio.