My long delayed story of Veresia Martell, younger sister of Ayrs She was presumed dead after the attack on their home world of Ithaca, but actually survived and was enslaved by the Empire. The title is a reference to the Yogg-Saron fight from WoW (which is where I got my MMO start), as well as a general description of how Veresia views herself.

 

Disclaimers/notes:

 

 

Veresia in-game (tags for size)

 

 

 

 

Several background/intro posts from the Short Fic thread to start with (I switched from 3rd person to 1st for the rest of this topic, my apologies for any confusion).

 

(1) Veresia's talents with the Force are discovered by the Sith

 

 

 

 

(2) Veresia's reflections during the trip to Korriban

 

 

 

 

(3) Veresia arrives at Korriban

 

 

 

Edited June 28, 2013 by Lesaberisa

I smiled inwardly as I reviewed the data Acolyte Alif had provided; his entire story had been confirmed The murder had been the doing of Esorr Kayin, and Alif was being set up to be nothing more than the convenient scapegoat for the crime. This is not right. No doubt, Harkun assumed I would feel compelled to kill Alif for his disobedience, and that doing so would somehow break my spirit. How wrong he was, and how delightful his frustration would be.

 

“The man was speaking the truth about the murder, he is to be released and taken somewhere safe.”

 

The torturer seemed shocked by my decision, his mouth so wide open I was surprised not to see drool coming out. I suppose it must be surprising, though. Justice and mercy are not common traits in a resident of Korriban.

 

“I shall do as you command, my lady. I will deliver my report immediately and ensure he is safely off-planet on the first available shuttle, as well.”

 

I nodded and turned, leaving the two men behind and trying my best to gather my thoughts.

 

The boy had suffered through years of oppression as a slave and another terrible year at the academy and lived only because he had me as his judge and not one of the dozens that would have killed him without a second thought. To them, his entire existence is merely an inconvenience or an opportunity to outdo the viciousness of their rivals.

 

I shuddered at that thought; life was too precious to be thrown away so haphazardly. The utter disregard the Sith had for the lowliest on Korriban was made obvious to even the newest arrivals – like those on my shuttle. We had been provided basic accommodations; a bedroom shared with another apprentice, simple clothes that looked more like rags, and terrible food. It was as if they had Ayrs cooking for them. Remembering my brother made me smile and feel like crying at the same time.

 

From the Sith point of view, I suppose that all made sense – given the low survival rate of the average apprentice, there was little reason to waste resources until numbers had dwindled. A cold and cold an efficient policy. A very Sith policy. They destroyed every part of you until all that was left was hate and anger and pain, and all you wanted to do was make others feel the same way. I knew I would have to guard against that, lest I become the monster I wished to destroy.

 

They removed Linus’ charred corpse from the dormitory yesterday; he had been found murdered and today was already forgotten and unmourned. Today it was Gerr’s body that was taken outside the academy, barely held together after how violently Ffon had ended his life. The pureblood had not shown even the slightest hint of remorse, and Harkun had done nothing but encourage the spectacle.

 

The Sith claimed this place was one of learning and personal growth; the reality was that it was nothing more than a murderous factory for all of the worst that sentient beings can offer. There was no room for the positive emotions, camaraderie or hope for the majority of those attending. There was nothing but a grim drive for survival, even as people that had once been friends turned against them.

 

Perhaps it was for the best that most students died before they ever realized the depths of the hell they had been thrust into.

 

The door slid open to reveal my room that was already darkened. I saw Kory already covered by the blankets and made my way to my side of the room as quietly as possible. Maker knows she could use all the rest she can get. I shook off the harsh robes they had presented us with upon arrival, and changed into an old tank top and shorts that I had brought with me. I caught my reflection in the mirror as I turned towards the bed and saw a stranger. My face and features were still the same, save for the scar above my right eye from the cut that had refused to heal. Something was…missing…though, something intangible but whose absence felt all too real.

 

I sat down, sighed and glanced over my shoulder to check on Kory. Her already thin frame had been looking increasingly and worryingly gaunt since the training began, and I worried for her well-being. She was a sweet girl who had thought she was ready for what lay ahead but seemed to be learning. I could see it in the defeated expression on her face she only revealed when she returned to our room, in her dull and lifeless eyes that had once glowed with a fervor for life. As I watched the blankets rise and fall with her shallow breaths, I reached out to her with the Force and felt nothing but a dull ache, almost as if she was only alive because she did not know how to die.

 

It pained me to see her this way.

 

She had been different while we were still en route to Korriban; lively, funny, a reminder that even with all I had lost there were still people in the galaxy that could mean something to me. She had helped me protect myself from the likes of Vular and – more importantly – reminded me not to lose myself to my own rage and despair. I remembered father’s lessons about the dark side well, but they weren’t enough, not any more. No amount of Jedi self-control would bring my friends and family back to life, no platitudes would bring those responsible to justice. It is easy to fall back on the Jedi code when you speak in a time of peace and without loss in your life. Or, so I told myself. The dark side was a dangerous temptress, and if I gave in to it I would become the kind of monster I sought to destroy.

 

I looked back at Kory, gently brushing away some hair that had fallen over her face. Today it had been Gerr, when would it be her turn? Kory might have made a future for herself with the Jedi; she was not untalented with the Force, and she had a keen mind for analyzing the world around her. She also was a gentle soul and lacked the capacity for making the hard choices that were sometimes required in life, even for someone who was not Sith. The galaxy was cruel to have had her born in the Empire and sent here. Perhaps there was still a chance for something better, but life had taught me that it was foolish to pin your hopes on chance; you needed to be willing to seize what you needed, not just hope it would be brought to you.

 

Once I reached the courtyard, the darkness didn’t seem quite so threatening any more. I had noticed that few of the other students ever took the time to visit this place. Perhaps they felt it demonstrated a weakness; a longing for the galaxy they should be dreaming of controlling. Perhaps they had nowhere or no one to think of as they gazed into the night sky. I might never know, but I also did not particularly care. The field of stars was a reminder that there was a life for me outside this place, if I could just find a way to make it there. It would no longer be a comfortable and boring life on Ithaca, it almost certainly would not be somewhere in the Core like I had foolishly dreamed of all those years ago. It might be as limited as bringing down those that had destroyed my old life, but it was still something.

 

I would never escape that day; never outgrow it, never forget it, never move past it. Whenever I closed my eyes at night, I never had the naïve, pleasant, dreams that Kory did; I could only see the same thing, the same people, the same horrors. It had all begun like any other day would have; Dio and I off to school while our mother went through the usual routine of getting Ally ready. Everything had happened like it always did, every moment transpired like I had known it would; everything until I was on my way home from Claire’s house.

 

The first hint of trouble had been the loud whines of speeders moving along Arundel Highway to my west; it might have been the major thoroughfare in the area, but that wouldn’t explain that much traffic. I still wished I could have stopped there, found some hiding place in the forest and never left; that way I would have never seen what they did to our friends, never seen them mocking my mother’s corpse, never heard Ally’s screams.

 

They found me cowering in fear behind the Tyndalls’ barn, a scared little girl who had lost everything but didn’t know it yet. They had assumed I would be another easy victim, but they had been wrong. I was not some meek, defenseless child; my father had taught me the ways of the Force, my mother had taught me how to fight. When it was over, both of their corpses were smoldering; my father had always cautioned against using the Force aggressively, but I didn’t care. They were bad men, evil men, and I had no regrets.

 

I clenched my teeth and felt hands ball up into fists. I had killed three other men before the others overwhelmed me, led by the gray-haired man who smiled and laughed even as I choked back tears and inhaled the strange-smelling smoke. He had even laughed when they showed him the corpses of the men I had killed.

 

I will find that man. Whatever it takes, I will hunt him down and I will end him. No more smiling, no more laughing. No more joy at other peoples’ pain. No more Ithacas.

 

I wondered what my father would have thought of me, of what I had become. He had died years before the girl that had been me did, but his stories and instruction were still with me. And his love. I tried to push that thought out of my head, tried to pretend it was just a distraction I couldn’t afford. Mostly, I just realized he would have felt betrayed by what I was willing to do. He had been a Jedi, after all.

 

The Jedi say that emotion is dangerous, that one must learn to control one’s emotions and not give in to them in order to remain free from the dark side’s influence, no matter how tempting or hard it might be to maintain that detachment. Perhaps I was merely too weak to adhere to such a high standard, but the years of captivity had weaned me from my blind faith in the Jedi. I understood full well the dangers of the dark side, but detachment was fraught with its own perils.

 

The Jedi had not been there to protect Ithaca, Tomaasi or Irrol or any of the other Outer Rim worlds that had been attacked; they had taken no action to bring those responsible to justice afterwards, either. I had no illusions about the danger I was putting myself in, but I could not – would not – accept complacency in the face of injustice.

 

The Jedi might condemn the attack on Ithaca as a gross violation of everything good and right, but their inaction was damning, and something I could not understand. How could the guardian of the Republic stand by and allow such actions for philosophical reasons? In their rush to contain the potential risks of emotional decisions and actions, it seemed the Jedi had also lost some of their ability to remember the human cost. In their drive to remain squarely within the light, they unwittingly left countless innocents to suffer in the dark.

 

Righteousness is a potent weapon, when wielded by the right hand. The Jedi fear it, though, and subvert it for use as a crutch, an excuse for inaction.

 

But, even if the Jedi were too afraid or unwilling to act, it did not mean that the suffering could not be fought. The darkness of Sith and Imperial oppression can obliterate lives and worlds, but it is not impenetrable, and the Sith and Imperials are not invincible. The Republic holds against the Empire. A lighthouse guides the lonely ship through the night. A lone candle can drive back the darkness in an entire room.

 

I will be that light in the darkness, the righteous flame that drives back the night. I am willing to make the sacrifices I must, to suffer whatever fate is required. I have already lost everything, but I will do everything within my power to keep others from doing the same. To keep what happened on Ithaca nothing more than an awful memory.

 

They say there is no justice among the Sith, that Justice herself is blind in the Empire.

 

They are wrong.

 

Justice is not blind, for I am her eyes.

Edited June 21, 2013 by Lesaberisa

Notes:

 

 

Our group of students continued to dwindle rapidly.

 

Two of the younger ones had been assigned to Ffon Althe when he had been tasked with recovering a relic from a nearby tomb. The Sith, already favored by Overseer Harkun, returned with the ancient trinket; the others did not. Althe also was responsible for the death of Namara, a female Zabrak that had been finding inner strength in resisting the corruption of Korriban, even coming close to becoming another friend to Kory and me. That personal growth did her no good, nor did the established rules that were meant to prohibit one student from murdering another, even with the telltale wound from Althe’s blade in her chest.

 

I worried for Kory more than ever. Her condition had been deteriorating for some time, but things were only getting worse and worse as time went on. She spent long periods of time just staring blankly into the small mirror we had in our room, and no longer came with me during my evening walks along the perimeter of the academy. Her presence in the Force was just as worrisome; faint, flickering, uncertain. I wanted to ask if she had already given up, but was too afraid of the answer to do so. I have to bring her back, whatever it takes. I can’t do this alone.

 

The academy was quiet and dark at night, yet was still less sinister to travel through than during the day. Not so surprising, the building is not the frightening thing, the people within it are. It also reminded me of how lost and alone I was, and how unsure I was about what lay ahead tomorrow, let alone far in the future. I had told myself that I would act like a parasite; drain the Sith of the knowledge and skills I needed and then strike back at them from within, the silent killer that would strike when least expected.

 

What a stupid girl I had been.

 

I was learning, yes, both about the Force and the people around it. But I was also failing at everything else; Kory was fading, the other students were dying, and I…I could hear the whispers in my mind, always there unless I made the effort to ignore them or drown them out. My father had warned me about the temptations of the Dark Side; it was easier to turn to, easier to utilize to the fullest extent….easiest to be turned by. Every day had become a struggle for me; it would not be enough to strike back for my family, my friends and Ithaca, I had to take care not to damn myself in the process.

 

That was easier said than done. The smug faces of the lowliest of Sith at the academy seared the hole in my heart. The joy they took at every misdeed, every minor act of inhumanity and cruelty…each time felt like a slap across the face, so much so that my cheeks felt like they were burning in response. There was nothing more I wanted in the world than to retaliate, to have those monsters experience even a fraction of the pain they caused. A casual flick of the wrist to snap their neck, a slash of the vibroblade into a vital organ, an imperceptible push with the Force to send them flying from a great height.

 

No. I cannot lower myself to their level. I cannot become a brutal, callous, monster like them…like the people who…

 

I shook my head, trying to clear my head and focus. In my distracted state, I nearly ran into a woman wearing the deep blue robes of Sith Intelligence. I grit my teeth and bowed my head subserviently.

 

“My apologies, my lady.”

 

Strangely, she seemed as distracted as I was. “No matter.” She dusted the front of her robes off as she spoke, then cast a suspicious glance in my direction. “Ah, I recognize you. And I have use for you.” That worried me. “Tell me, what do you know of the Jedi?”

 

I bit my lip to avoid saying anything that would create trouble. “I know they are weak – unwilling to use the gifts the Force has presented them with. I know they are cowardly – refusing to fight unless presented with no other option.

 

I also know they are sworn to destroy us, all of us.”

 

She seemed satisfied enough with my answer. “I am Inquisitor Urinth, of Sith Intelligence. We captured a Jedi shadow who was attempting to infiltrate the academy here. The fool. He was brought to my interrogation chamber for further…study. Do you believe you could assist us with our work?”

 

I nodded, not knowing what else I could do or say.

 

“After deliberation, we have decided to allow this Jedi to ‘escape’ from Korriban and return to the Jedi Order. Not truly escape – of course – but with a carefully manufactured understanding of what he witnessed and accomplished while here courtesy of our treatments. You are of a similar age to him, and attractive enough to further distract him from any sense of unease. Speak to him, gain his trust, and help him in whatever ways are required to convince him you are assisting in his escape.”

 

I raised an eyebrow in response. My throat was too dry to respond and I felt distinctly uneasy about the entire situation. Is this some sort of trap set to determine my loyalties? Have they discovered who my father was?

 

“I am slightly confused – you said I am to help him escape. Won’t I get in trouble for assisting a Jedi in escaping?

 

I do not wish to be punished if you’ve led me astray.”

She shook her head furiously. “ No, this is an officially sanctioned operation, you need not worry. The hour is getting late, however, so if you plan on assisting I recommend you move quickly. The Jedi’s name is Quorian Dorjis. Good luck.”

 

Well, this is new.

 

I made my way towards the interrogation rooms. I had previously made a point of avoiding them at all times – not because I ever feared becoming one of their victims; it was just…the sounds that came from them were horrific even to my ears. I did not want to imagine what went on there, because every time I even thought of what took place it felt like some little part of me died and was replaced by someone I did not want to be. I wondered how badly they had treated Quorian Dorjis, and what would be left of him for me to talk to. Let alone what I will say.

 

My fears proved unfounded.

 

He was sitting cross-legged In his cell, apparently unperturbed by his predicament. Close-cropped hair, finely-chiseled features. Well-built too, for a Jedi. I felt like slapping myself. He is a shadow, not some Jedi historian who has never seen the world outside a temple. I stood outside his cell, somewhat awkwardly, deciding how best to get his attention. Fortunately, he solved the problem for me.

 

“You…Sith?” His eyes looked somewhat glazed over and his voice was unsteady. No doubt they were feeding him all sorts of drugs, possibly enhanced by Sith alchemy. I felt a pang of sympathy for the man as he struggled to bring himself to his feet. A proud man, and not as defeated as Urinth must think. He’s definitely not at his best, though. “What…what do you want?”

 

I frowned, not having thought that far ahead. “I’m here to help you. To get you out of here.”

 

His eyes were still foggy, but he seemed to be seeing me more clearly now. “Help…me? I don’t understand. You’re a Sith.” He said the last word as if damning me with it. To be fair, you would use the same tone of voice.

 

“I am not a Sith.” I grimaced slightly, realizing how combative I must sound to him. I softened my voice. “I’m not one of them, I swear to you. I feel the same about them that you do.”

 

He gazed into my eyes with an intensity that would have been either unnerving or flirtatious in any other context. “I sense…you are right. But…my mind is unclear, my connection to the Force is weak. And my equipment was taken from me. I can’t leave without it, without the information on my datapad. You need to get it for me.”

 

I grit my teeth. Not just a Jedi, a by-the-book Jedi. I balled my hands into fists and placed them at my hips. “I’m trying to free you. You seem awfully eager to disrupt the attempt.”

 

He surprised me, giving me a slight smile. His right eye closed, then re-opened quickly. Did he just wink at me? “Rest assured, that isn’t my goal. I simply don’t want to go home empty handed, and I doubt you’ll come back with me.” His smile grew after I flushed slightly. “The interrogator from Sith Intelligence mentioned having it. A Urinth, if I remember correctly.”

 

“You’re lucky killing you doesn’t suit my purposes.” Or Urinth’s, as far as she goes. “Where is your equipment, I will gather it for you while you prepare yourself. Try not to get distracted.”

 

His smile had been dying, but my last comment revived it in full. What an infuriating man. “You’re a good person, even if you don’t believe it yourself. I don’t need the Force to tell me that. Even if you weren’t getting out of here, I would never betray you.”

 

I found myself at a loss for words. Rather than embarrass myself in front of the Jedi, I turned and escaped into the hallway, making my way back to Urinth. She had an expression that mixed disgust and impatience as she show me approach.

 

“Inquisitor, I have secured his confidence. However, he refuses to leave without his equipment. He claims it has essential data on it.” I hoped I wasn’t being too presumptuous, or else I might bear the brunt of her anger. Instead, she nodded.

 

“That is acceptable. We have altered the data he obtained to better server our purposes. Also, I applaud your ability to secure his cooperation so quickly. No doubt, you can be very convincing when you need to be.” Her voice took on a salacious tone with that last bit, which sent a spasm of anger through my body. Of course a Sith would be gleeful over twisting and using another person like that.

 

We walked in silence towards her office, nodding slightly at the few guards still patrolling. The Sith were fearsome enough most of the time, but they could be as sloppy as any other organization. I had noted their lax approach to security when the higher-ranking Sith weren’t around A weakness, however small. Something to expose and exploit. Urinth quickly grabbed a satchel from her desk and presented it to me before moving back in the direction we came from. I lengthened my gait to catch up with her.

 

“Any further instructions, my lady?”

 

She smiled slightly at that, but shook her head. I expected her to remain where I had found her, but she followed me towards the interrogation room. I began to sweat slightly, beads of it forming on my neck and around my forehead. How can I warn him about the implanted memories if she is around? My mind raced furiously.

 

“My lady, if you walk in with me, will he not suspect something is wrong?”

 

She frowned at that, but my impulsive analysis came through. “You’re quite right. I will monitor things from the hallway until you have him moving.”

 

I stepped into the room, taking a large breath to clear my thoughts and try to regain control of my beating heart. One bluff down, one to go. I strode towards the energy cell’s control panels, punching in the code to deactivate it. The Jedi sprung to his feet, surprising me with his physical recuperation from his treatment. Perhaps the thought of freedom, of escape. I handed him the satchel containing his equipment.

 

He regarded me with slightly suspicious eyes. “Not that I’m one to look a gift bantha in the mouth, but you never did explain why you're doing this.”

 

And so we come to it. How to let him know what games Urinth is playing without overplaying my hand? How to reveal the truth of my heart without having it known by anyone else?

 

I took another deep breath, seeing no other way.

 

Then I gripped his robes with both of my hands, pulling him towards me and kissing him fiercely, like I hadn’t kissed anyone in years. He surprised me yet again by not questioning, not pulling away. Some part of me didn't want to let go, I didn't know why. When I finally did move back a half-step, his expression had curiosity in place of suspicion, and his fast breathing revealed as much about him as anything else he had said. I had a strange feeling in my chest, but I pushed that aside. Now is not the time.

 

“Listen to me. The data in your pad, the memories in your mind. They’re a Sith set-up. I’m sorry, you won’t bring any information home. But at least you will be there.” I gave him a slight smile. “Now, hold my hand. Our cover will be that we are two young Sith lovers, embracing their passion.” I winked at him, even though I really had no idea why, didn't know what I was doing. I trusted in the Force.

 

He nodded, any doubts he still had vanishing into the night. Perhaps he is just easily turned by a pretty face. I decided to allow myself a little vanity.

 

Urinth was nowhere in sight as we entered the main hall, hands held like I had held Aaron's hand back on Ithaca. We passed a couple of guards on our way out of the main entrance, both of whom seemed amused by the sight of Quorian and I going for what was ostensibly a romantic walk in the Korriban night. This is not a world for romance. His grip was reassuring, though I could not quite say why.

 

At last, we reached the shuttle pad Urinth had indicated to me in her instructions.

 

He swiveled to face me, his eyes searching my face for something. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry you were born in the Empire and made to come here.” His voice sounded sad, almost as sad as mine did.

 

“I wasn’t born in the Empire, though I was made to come here after the Imperials and their dogs killed the life I had lived. They killed my family, they killed my friends, they destroyed everything I had ever cared about.” I paused, wondering if I could bring up Ayrs. My brother was out in this Jedi’s Republic. The fantasy died a moment later. No point in nursing such foolish hopes. “I’m sorry about that too.”

 

He flinched at that, and I felt a pang of guilt. He meant well, he couldn’t have known. As my thoughts meandered through my head, he fixed his eyes on mine.

 

“I’m sorry about that too. You would have been a great Jedi. You might still be some day.” Quorian leaned in, too quickly for me to react, and kissed my cheek gently. “If I could get my hand back, though?” His voice was gentle, almost apologetic.

 

I glanced down and realized that I was still gripping his hand tightly in my own, like a child holds on to their parents’ hand when they’re scared. I blushed and released it, glad it was a dark night so my reaction was known only to me.

 

A flash of movement and a twirl of his cloak and he was gone into the night and out of my life, leaving me alone again, alone with tears I could not shed and regrets I could not escape.

 

I tried to remember my father’s words and teachings.

 

I am not alone. The Force is with me.

 

Somehow, that just wasn’t enough.

Edited June 28, 2013 by Lesaberisa

SQUEE

 

(Curse this stupid auto-lowercaser thing. Had to edit twice to fix it.)

Edited June 26, 2013 by Adwynyth

Another vivid headspace to live the thoroughly enlivened storyline through. Subscribing.

Glad you guys are liking it so far Poor Veresia has a much tougher road than Ayrs though.

 

Lengthy italicized bits are flashbacks/memories

---------------------------

 

”Keep your guard up. Keep your guard up!” His blade crashed against mine with enough force to drive me back. “Focus on what your opponent and what their body and form reveal, not just what you feel through the Force.” He stabbed forward with his sword, but this time I was ready and parried it to the side. “Good”

 

We circled around the training area, each of us trying to figure out the other’s intentions. I feinted to his right, then landed a hit on the left side of this stomach. He stopped, breathing heavily a bit, then smiled broadly at me. “Nice job, you had me fooled. Guess I’m getting slow in my old age.”

 

I giggled. “You’re not that old, Dad. Plus, if I could use the Force, I would throw your lightsaber away and beat you.” I cheered at the thought of my own superior tactical mind.

 

He smiled slightly at that. “Yes, but not all of us can be prodigies with the Force like you, Verbear. And you know why you have to practice without it, right?”

 

For a moment, I scowled at the sound of my hated pet-name, but that passed quickly enough. I nodded. “I need to train myself so I can fight both with the Force and without it.”

 

“And?” I hated that question.

 

“And if I draw too much attention to myself, the Jedi Order might take me away to a temple.”

 

A shadow crossed over my father’s face. He almost never had a bad thing to say about his time as a Jedi but he was determined to keep me from becoming one and I didn’t know why. I hoped he would tell me one day.. “Right. Now, let’s get back to the house. I’m sure your mother is wondering where we’ve been.”

 

Mom was indeed waiting for us when we got back to the house, arms crossed in front of her chest and an unhappy look on her face. I knew it was trouble because she wasn’t just pretending; all of us knew what she looked like when she was pretending. Especially Ayrs, since he got in trouble so much.

 

“Everything okay, Val?” Dad noticed it too.

 

Mom shifted on her feet, and turned back into the house, responding over her shoulder. “Two Jedi are in the living room with a mission for you. An important one, apparently.” I had never seen her so upset, Dad must have done something really bad, but I didn’t understand what. The Jedi were heroes and so was Dad, so maybe they had to save someone.

 

I went up to my room, and spent the next three hours doing some homework. I hated math, but Ayrs said it would be good practice for when I helped him launder money. I didn’t understand what math had to do with laundry but I didn’t want to admit that to him. I heard the front door open and close, I heard Mom and Dad yelling at each other about something. Then it got quiet for a bit, but after a while they started yelling again, about the Jedi and other stuff I didn’t recognize.

 

Ayrs called me into his room, so I made my way down the hall. He had Dio doing his science homework at the desk and had arranged Ally’s stuffed animals around his bed. I think he and Ally were having a tea party with them.

 

He looked at me a little funny. “We’re just going to hang out here, ok Ver?”

 

I nodded, and sat down next to Ally’s stuffed wampa, Wampaboo. He smelled kind of funny, but Ally was really attached to him, and also her stuffed nerf, Nerfyboo. I thought she needed better names for her stuffed animals, but whenever I brought it up she just got mad. We had a good time, though, even when Banthaboo and Ayrs got in an argument over who had eaten the last cookie.

 

Later on Mom called us downstairs to the living room. Her face was bright red, and I think she might have been crying. Dad’s eyes were clearer but he looked sad anyway as he knelt before us.

 

“I have to go away for a little while, to help some of my friends. I’ll be back soon, though. I promise.”

 

I promise.

 

I promise.

 

My eyes opened.

 

Something was amiss, I could feel palpable tension in the Force from the hallway outside. I reached over next to me and felt nothing but air. Kory’s side of the bed was cool as well, too cool for her to have just gotten up. My stomach lurched as I wakened more fully and checked the time on the chronometer. Still an hour until our breakfast of gruel and what tastes like broken glass. I shook my head and slid out of bed, making sure my vibro-blade was at the ready before making my way to the door.

 

I was halfway across the room when it slid open on its own. A red hand shoved Kory into the room. She stumbled, tried and failed to regain her balance, and then fell. I noticed cuts and bruises on her where-ever her robe was not. My nostrils flared as I recognized the smug look of satisfaction, and the face that wore it. Ffon Althe.

 

“Hello, worm. I found your pet scurrying around the academy and decided to return her to you. No doubt you would find yourself unable to function without her. Not that that says much, as you are an inferior being yourself and unable to comprehend the true intricacies of the Force. You are a blot, a waste of carbon-based life matter. I look forward to your end. Your pet’s end, too.”

 

I gave him a mocking round of slow applause before curling the end of my lip into a sneer. “Good to see you Ffon, I feared you might not remember how to find your way around the academy with all the time you spend writing your memoirs. What chapter are you on now, the one where you describe your heroic butchering of mere children? Or the one where you describe, in the most loving of terms, how you’ve managed to progress so far while needing only daily help and support from Harkun.?”

 

If he had been another race, his face would have been as red as it was now. As it was, I could be satisfied with the reaction I felt through the Force.

 

“You, you…worthless worm.” I sighed as he waved a shaking finger at my face. “You trifle with powers beyond your own, you challenge your betters. What do you know of the Force? Of my power?” His eyes took on an almost desperate look and I noticed some spittle forming in his mouth. “You are but a slave, a proud slave perhaps, but nothing more. If you are lucky, I will take you to be a member of my harem when I am anointed a true Sith and take my place on the Dark Council.”

 

I snorted, trying to hold back my laughter for the moment.

 

“You are nothing, Ffon. You are a scrambling, scrabbling rat. You owe your successes, such as they are, to the fact that Harkun cannot bear the thought of you failing. Your mastery of the Force is barely that of an untrained child. And your dreams of being on the Dark Council? How shall I put this, I have seen more realistic stories in soap operas.” His neck was tensing, I was getting to him. “I must confess, I do admire something about you, though. Namely, that you manage to remember how to breathe ever morning and haven’t ended your life in the ignominious way I will.”

 

The finger was back in my face, furiously waving. “You have no right to speak to me that way.” His voice was deliciously petulant. “You can’t threaten me like that. I am a Sith!”

 

I laughed in his face, I needed to give no other response to express my contempt.

 

He reacted by grabbing Kory around the neck, and placing “Do you want your pet to die? If so, please continue your insults.” He gave me a sneer, no doubt assuming I would be intimidated by his childish bullying.

 

“Unhand her or, by the Force, I will un-man you.” I pointed my blade towards my target and was rewarded with a sudden flicker of fear across his face and in his Force presence, which intensified as Force Lightning crackled in my free hand. “Now, be a good boy and run back to Harkun like the dog you are. Hurry, before I get angry.”

 

For a moment I thought he might develop a backbone, might refuse my demand, but only for a moment. Ffon was like any childhood bully; not only was his bark much worse than his bite, he was also a coward through and through. Unwilling to challenge or fight those that could stand against him, unable to function without the backing of Harkun and the other overseers that worked under him. He turned, eyes open in unadulterated fear, and exited hastily.

 

I felt a slight twinge of pity for the Sith, but it did not last long. He might have been brought to this state by a system well beyond anything he had control over, he might well have proven to be a better person if he had had the opportunity.

 

None of that mattered, though. The Ffon Althe that might have been didn’t exist; all the world had was the Ffon Althe that was. And I will have to end him, before he does any more damage, before he harmed anyone else.

 

With Ffon gone, I moved to where Kory sat shuddering on the floor and sat down next to her. She leaned against me, using my shoulder for support and wrapping her arms around me. “He showed me things in my mind, through the Force...” Her voice trailed off and she shuddered again. I slipped an arm around her waist and rested my head on top of hers.

 

“It’s okay, Kory, he’s gone now. I won’t let him do that to you again. I won’t let him do that to anyone. I promise.”

 

Ally and I were almost done washing Wampaboo when I heard the ringer on the front door buzz. I peeked downstairs and saw Mom letting two men in brown robes with funny looking hair inside. It looked like she was shaking, but I didn’t understand why. It was a nice day.

 

I felt Ayrs grab my arm. “Get in your room, take Ally with you. Stay inside until I get back.” His voice was angry and that kind of scared me, but I nodded and did like he said. Ayrs moved past us and went downstairs to sit with Mom and the two men. He always got to do things like that since he was the oldest.

 

After a while I heard a strange wailing sound from downstairs and then some shouting. Something crashed against the floor, it sounded like glass being broken. Ally looked at me.

 

“What’s that?”

 

I listened carefully, but couldn’t hear anything more. Then I remembered that the men in brown robes were the same ones that had visited a few weeks before, when Mom and Dad had fought and then Dad had said he had to go somewhere for a little while. I snuck outside into the hallway and saw Mom and Ayrs hugging each other tightly, it looked like they were crying, and I knew. I knew.

 

I snuck back my room.

 

“I think it’s about Daddy. I think something bad happened, Ally.” I wasn’t sure what else to say.

 

“He pwomised he’d come back, he pwomised!” She started to cry. So did I.

 

I had no answer, so I just held her.

 

I had promised myself I wouldn't be like my father. I promised myself now that it wouldn’t be for Kory like it was for me. I figured that if I kept telling myself that, I might believe it.

Edited June 29, 2013 by Lesaberisa

I was the last one to enter Harkun’s chamber for the morning recital of how worthless we were when compared to the gloriousness that was Ffon Althe. I glanced over to my right to take in the Sith acolyte, who was acting somewhat more subdued than was normal. Apparently our little talk had had some effect on him. Not enough to save him, but he damned himself long before he ever set foot on Korriban.

 

There were only five of us left now; beyond Ffon, Kory and myself there were a pair of hulking human twins, Balek and Wydr. They had displayed no particular talent for the Force, but Harkun had allowed them to live nonetheless. I suspected they might be little more than tools for whatever agenda he had, but without proof to present or an ally in authority to present it to, there was not much I could do to confront them without risking my own position.

 

Behind Harkun, almost hidden in the shadows, I noticed an older woman; blonde, serious, composed and very much in control of proceedings, even if Harkun was the one doing the talking.

 

“So good of you to join us, slave.” He turned his normal sneer on me as he caught sight of my entrance. His behavior was so predictable that Harkun might have been almost humorous…were it not for the matters of life and death that hung in the balance with his every word. “No doubt, you were busy preening in front of the mirror in the hopes you might distract others from your lack of talent with your looks.”

 

Almost sounds like he’s admiring them. I had to struggle a great deal to refrain from smiling, so I decided to focus on the woman behind him. Striking features, more handsome than beautiful, but something was wrong with her, as if the face she had was merely a mask for something terrible beneath. Not uncommon for a Sith, but there is something strange about her.

 

Harkun was still prattling on, so I attempted to pay attention.

 

“Your task, shameful as it is that I lower myself to speak to you, is to enter the tomb of Ajunta Pall and seek out the hermit Spindrall. He will test you, in what way I cannot say. Should you survive the ordeal, you are to return here for further instruction.” We all turned to leave the room when I felt his presence in the Force focus on me with the intensity he normally saved for his ranting. “Except you, slave. Lord Zash has a different task in mind for you.”

 

I stepped forward, somewhat uncertainly, and clutched my robes around me a little tighter.

 

“For reasons I cannot hope to ever understand, Lord Zash wishes you to enter the tomb of Marka Ragnos to acquire a holocron that has been buried there for centuries. Naturally, there are many dangers in the tomb and it is almost certain that…” Zash cut him off with a loud cough, and I was not one to let such an opportunity slide.

 

“Yes, yes. This is where you send me into another ancient tomb full of traps and horrors, fully expecting and hoping to have it result in my mangled corpse being discovered in a few months.” I arched an eyebrow and noticed Zash had a slightly amused expression on her face. “Naturally, I will dash your hopes and return both intact and with my prize held proudly before me. What a sad little life you lead, Harkun.”

 

I favored him with a broad smile, which provoked him to ball his fists in rage and sputter before he managed to spit out the words. “Get out, slave. No one is amused by your antics, and they merely hasten your death. Your painful death.” With what little dignity he had left, he made a broad sweeping gesture to encourage me to exit the room.

 

Traveling through the academy reminded me of why I had to walk the path I had chosen; the young acolytes that might yet be saved from deaths that would be terrible or lives that would be even worse. Sith, both young and old, that devoted themselves to studies and actions that damned their souls and ruined lives across the galaxy. Korriban was an ugly place, the home of the darkness that threatened to engulf all before it, and I was uniquely positioned to do something about it.

 

If you don’t go mad yourself, first.

 

They said that everyone goes a little mad once they spend more than a few hours on the surface. I had laughed off the reports at first, but I was not so sure any more. This place was haunted, by ghosts, memories, the Dark Side, or some combination of things I could not comprehend. I could feel it every night, in the crushing weight upon my chest, could hear it in the voices that haunted my dreams, could sense it in every waking moment. I wanted to be sure of what I was doing, needed to be sure, but my concerns grew as time passed.

 

I did my best to focus only on what lay ahead as I made my way to the tomb of Marka Ragnos, another ancient Sith Lord that was remembered with fear and trepidation by the normal people of the galaxy but was worshipped among the Sith. To say the Sith have crossed a moral event horizon would be an understatement without peer across recorded history. They breached that horizon from the moment they first acted on their dark impulses.

 

The tomb of Marka Ragnos was unremarkable; more dust and ruins that might have impressed at some point years ago but was as pathetic as the Sith inside were frightening. There were teams of archaeologists streaming in and out of the halls and rooms, but the crowds thinned out noticeably the further in I went. The darkness scares them. The evil is palpable. By the time I reached the antechamber that housed the device containing the holocron, it had been several minutes since I had last seen someone. The air was rank, and the tingle up and down my spine was only the most noticeable sign that there were about a million other places I would rather be.

 

I took a deep breath, trying to collect my thoughts. The device was almost indistinguishable from the other obelisks that littered the tomb’s grounds, except for the eerie glow emanating from the top. It had a strange presence in the Force, as well, something sinister. I shuddered, and realized I was losing focus; something I desperately needed if I was going to uncover the device’s mysteries and return with the holocron.

 

There were no distinguishing marks anywhere on the device, no crevices, nothing that gave even a hint of being useful. As moments turned into minutes and those minutes dragged on, I grew ever more frustrated. I tried reciting the Sith Code to see if that would accomplish anything, but the stone proved as poor a discussion partner as most of the other acolytes at the academy. I sat, cross-legged, on the floor and attempted to puzzle it out, but got nowhere.

 

Finally, with my temper flaring, I finally gave in to the impulse that had been niggling at me from the start. Purple lightning arced from my hands and into the obelisk with greater and greater intensity. There was a loud crack, and the top of the obelisk slid up and out, revealing the holocron inside. For a moment, I wondered how it could have remained hidden for so long, until I realized that any Sith that had attempted this before must have been so caught up in how to make their success as brilliant and impressive as possible that they forgot that succeeding at all was more important.

 

As I re-entered Harkun’s chamber back at the academy, I did not even attempt to hide my satisfied expression, particularly after I noticed how annoyed it made him. The twins were oblivious, and Kory was looking on with a slightly bemused look. Ffon, much to my delight, looked as apoplectic as his master. I noticed Zash was again monitoring the situation, but paid that no attention.

 

Harkun waved me forward and motioned for me to place the holocron on his desk, which I did, before returning to my previous position in line with the other acolytes. He remained silent the entire time, although I did note that his annoyance had dissipated somewhat, replaced by a self-assured smile. He motioned Kory forward.

 

“Acolyte, you managed to survive the perilous journey through the Tomb of Ajunta Pall to speak with Spindrall. You accomplished the task he set before you, but revealed your pathetic weakness while doing so. Your childish attachment to your other slaves, your inability to grasp the machinations required to be a Sith.” He paused long enough for my heart to leap into my throat. Kory was shifting slightly on her feet, but she seemed to not know what was coming. Some part of me did, all too well. “There is only appropriate response.”

 

Harkun glanced back over his shoulder at Zash, who gave a slight nod. Then, his mouth transforming into a leer, he fired thick purple lightning at my friend, his tongue caressing his lips like a feral animal.

 

Kory screamed as she died. So did I.

Edited July 2, 2013 by Lesaberisa

 

 

 

No matter how hard I tried, I could not sleep. I tossed and turned, finding only emptiness where Kory should have been, in the Force and in my heart. The oppressive heat did not help either, especially when the image of Ffon Althe flashed in my mind, his smirk etched forever in my memory. I took a deep breath, trying to think of something, anything, to relieve the pressure I was feeling.

 

I pushed myself out of bed, trying my best to ignore the ring of sweat that had soaked through the thin tank top I slept in. The Sith were not one for wasting high fashion on lowly acolytes, but even still I would have hoped for something more than rough fabric that left a rash...and little to the imagination for leering acolytes and Sith alike.

 

My thoughts returned to Harkun’s chamber, the crackle of the lightning, the smell of burning flesh. I shuddered. All because she didn’t give the appropriately inhumane answers to Spindrall. I felt my anger turn to rage, felt it bubbling under the surface of my skin, just aching for release. I struggled against it, struggled to remember everything my father had taught me.

 

There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is no knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity… I grit my teeth. It wasn’t working. There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no emotion…

 

It was a pleasant lie, but a lie nonetheless. Anyone who divorced themselves from their emotions was as dangerous as a Sith. The love I had for my family and friends only gave me strength and helped me move forward. Being connected to those around you was a strength, not a weakness. I could never be at peace with a code that expected me to feel nothing as my friend died.

 

Unbidden, and for reasons I did not understand, I felt Quorian Dorjis’ arms around me again, his lips pressed against mine. He was warm and his presence was comforting. Now I know I am going mad. Completely mad. I shook my head, willing the memory away even though some part of me did not want to. I needed air.

 

The door snapped open with a flourish and I made my way down the darkened halls, taking in the short respite that my nocturnal meanderings gave me from the pain of the academy. The whispers in my head were quieter, my connection to the Force more harmonious. I ignored the stares of the few guards still on duty and headed out the front entrance. I had more important matters to be concerned with.

 

Spindrall lived in the Tomb of Ajunta Pall, and it would be his tomb as well. I had done some research on him in the archives during my free time; he had long been a gatekeeper for the academy, the arbiter of life and death that could make or break a career in the Sith. Or could snuff out a life without a second thought. I tried desperately not to think of Kory.

 

As I entered his lair, I was nearly overwhelmed by the stench. Something was rotting in there, and when I first laid eyes on Spindrall I knew it was him. Not just his flesh, which had turned dark and mottled from the corruption of the Dark Side that dominated him; his body was still in one piece, but I could sense that his soul had been shattered years ago.

 

He sensed my presence.

 

“Slave, why are you here at so late an hour?” He paused, and I could feel the tendrils of his Force presence reaching out to me. I denied him entry to my mind and being, sparking a look of annoyance on his face. “Acolytes come here to be judged, in an attempt to return to their master with some mark of favor. But…I sense that is not why you are here.” He reached out in the Force again, and I rebuffed him, more forcefully this time.

 

I stood facing him, saying nothing.

 

“Well, I imagine you have not come to listen to the prattling of an old man, a reclusive hermit that has lost his grip on reality.” He eyed me closely, clearly realizing that I was actively resisting his attempts to read my intent, yet unable to determine how or why. “Have you come for some discreet instruction on the Code of the Sith, then?”

 

I remained silent, and I could feel his frustration grow, palpable in the force and visible on his face. I wanted to believe I did not know why I was here, but some part of me knew, that shadowy place where your deepest desires and darkest fears reside, always lurking for the opportunity to seize control. I think Spindrall knew too, at least subconsciously.

 

“You do know the Code of the Sith, yes? Or must I force it out of you.”

 

I nodded slightly. “Nwûl tash. Dzwol shâsotkun. Shâsotjontû châtsatul nu tyûk. Tyûkjontû châtsatul nu midwan. Midwanjontû châtsatul nu asha. Ashajontû kotswinot itsu nuyak. Wonoksh Qyâsik nun.” I gave him a knowing glance and was rewarded with widening eyes filled with shock.

 

“How…how does a mere acolyte know the words of the Sith language?”

 

I smiled, but not a happy one. It was an ugly smile, the kind a predator

 

“My father taught me that you have to understand your enemy in order to fight them. You have to understand their language, their viewpoint, their tactics, and use them to your advantage. It is almost a Sith viewpoint, ironically, but tempered by humanity and love. Those are things no Sith can truly understand.”

 

He was slowly slinking back towards his lightsaber. I made no move to stop him. It was too late to matter.

 

“What do you know of studying an enemy? What could you truly know of the Sith? You are but an up-jumped slave who has forgotten her place. I should break you where you stand.” He was practically quivering with rage, but beneath his anger was growing fear. I enjoyed finding it, probing it but that enjoyment frightened me in return. No, I must maintain control. I can’t become like him. Like them. My concentration slipped, and he detected a hint of what I had been hiding.

 

“Ahhhh. So your true nature reveals itself. I can feel your fear, your anger….it threatens to consume you at all times. You try to fight it but deep within you, there is the realization that you want to embrace it. My, my. You will be a marvelous Sith indeed, once you stop denying yourself your true potential.”

 

“No!” I reached out with the Force, levitated a large boulder from the ground, and hurled it at his head. He dodged, just barely. “I am no slave. I am no Sith. I am your end.” He fashioned a slight smile in response, perhaps because of what I had said, perhaps because he had finally reached his lightsaber. “Do you remember a girl named Kory? Red hair, warm smile?”

 

He activated his blade, the red glow harsh in the gloomy darkness. “A foolish girl, too weak to be a Sith. What of her?”

 

I moved towards him, my blade still turned off to lull him into a false sense of security. “You killed her. You murdered her as much as Harkun. She was more than a foolish girl. She was a person with hopes and dreams. She was a good person, she deserved better from life. And she was my friend. You will answer for her.”

 

“Foolish child, you cannot possibly comprehend the power of the Dark Side.” He practically spat the words out.

 

I laughed.

 

“I have lived in the dark for years now. I am not afraid of it. I am not afraid of you.” I collected myself, I had to maintain control of myself, my emotions. “But you…you are afraid of me.” The small, involuntary, flinch told me all I needed to know. I activated my vibro-sword and stepped forward purposefully to make an end of it.

 

He fired a burst of lightning that I easily dodged, and then a pair more that I absorbed with my blade. Twenty feet. He cursed me in the Sith tongue, something I did not quite understand, but I knew it could only be something foul. His desperation was palpable. Ten. Another burst of lightning was caught on my blade, at which point he raised his saber to defend himself.

 

“Prepare to die, slave.” I don’t think even he believed it as he said it.

 

Our blades clashed. Yellow against red. Light against dark.

 

He parried my first blow, but only narrowly avoided my second. My third took his arm clean off at the elbow. He shrieked in pain. I kicked the saber he had dropped away, far out of reach by the Force, let alone his remaining hand.

 

“This is for all the lives the Sith have stolen, the crimes they have perpetuated. The murders, the rapes, the pillaging, all of the crimes of your order. The souls corrupted, the families broken, the worlds left scarred” I lowered my blade and reached out with the Force to apply pressure on one of the Sith statues in the room. “I am Veresia Martell. I will be the voice for the victims you have silenced. I will be the justice they have been denied. You should be proud; you are the first. You will not be the last.”

 

Spindrall was too focused on the stump he had in place of his arm to respond. No matter. I flicked my wrist delicately, ripping the statue from the floor and sailing it through the air towards Spindrall. He barely had time to scream.

 

I stepped gingerly over his corpse and made my way back towards the academy, breathing heavily and quickly glancing over myself to ensure I left no incriminating sign of my involvement. No doubt, the blame would fall on some hated instructor, some jealous official, and more blood would be spilled in the name of Sith politics. Once, perhaps, the prospect of causing still more death might have troubled me, but that had changed. I had changed.

 

I could no longer be the person that I had been, but I could be something else. Something more. I hoped my father, wherever he was, would understand.

Edited July 4, 2013 by Lesaberisa

Realllllllllly sorry about the long time between posting. I ended up moving a few things around and editing stuff, then felt like I hit a brick wall. Anyway, back to Veresia's time on Korriban:

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The academy had reacted to Spindrall’s death just as I had expected it to; in-fighting, bickering and plenty of mutual recriminations among the Sith. After all, who but a Sith would have even thought to kill an old man with little to offer but insight into the Dark Side? Certainly not an acolyte that had once been a slave, known more for her acid tongue than a propensity for violence. Though I tried to hide it, my pleasure slipped past the façade I used as armor; knowing glances when Spindrall was referenced, a sly smile when I was sure I was not being watched.

 

Some part of me knew that what I had done had placed me on the precipice. It wasn’t just justice for Kory that I had been seeking, I wanted Spindrall to hurt, I wanted to cause the Sith pain. I want them to pay for everything they’ve done to me. To everyone. I had thought I could do that without risking who I was in the name of vengeance, but as every day passed in the heart of Sith cruelty, I couldn’t help but realize it would be a small price to pay. I couldn’t accept breaking more of my promises, not after Ally and Kory.

 

As I entered Harkun’s chamber, I noticed that we had the room to ourselves. Ffon was probably off in the torture chambers pulling the wings off Genosians, but I had no clue as to where Balek and Wydr might be; neither had Harkun’s favor, and I could still feel them through the Force, however tenuously, so they hadn’t been added to the pile of bodies quite yet. No doubt, Harkun has something planned for them too.

 

The overseer eyed me sourly as I sauntered in, taking as much time as possible to draw out his annoyance. He waved me forward impatiently, but that simply encouraged me to slow down, languidly stretch my arms, and enjoy the ambiance of the academy.

 

“Good morning, Overseer. Quite the lovely day for a scenic tour of the torture chambers and murder pits, is it not?”

 

The vein above his right eye looked about ready to burst. “Silence, slave. I did not give you leave to speak.”

 

I smiled innocently. “And yet, I spoke. The wonders of the Force never cease to amaze.”

 

He looked about ready to strike me, but he restrained himself. Whether it was because he had been ordered to do so, out of self-control he had developed in his years as an instructor, or perhaps some small shred of decency, I did not know. “I have had enough of your games and childish behavior, slave. Somehow, you have managed to survive your trials so far.” He paused, his vein pulsing slightly, which amused me. “No doubt that will all change soon enough. The Force will not allow such a worthless piece of filth to attain the rank of a Sith.”

 

I let out a small giggle to set him up. “Hmmm. You know, Harkun, it occurs to me that the Force saw it fit to allow you to reach the rank of Overseer, so perhaps its standards aren’t quite what you think they are.” His face reddened noticeably. “No doubt that ugly Sith grandmother of yours would have been so proud of your progress.” I smiled broadly at him.

 

This time, he did hit me. Hard, right across the mouth. I cringed as I bit deep into my lower lip. I tasted blood, but mixed with that sourness was the sweet taste of victory.

 

“Enough, slave!” He was practically shaking with rage. “I have no more patience within me, and I will not hesitate to end your pathetic life if you continue these games.” I blinked at him, innocent as a babe. That only seemed to aggravate him further. “You are to report to the training room for instructions on how to properly use a blade in combat. It is quite clear that you lack the necessary experience with a weapon.”

 

As I exited the room, I casually looked back at him over my shoulder. “Overseer, do you have experience with your, *ahem* weapon? You must get quite a lot of practice.”

 

I did not hear his response, though it sounded quite angry, especially when it was punctuated by a large crash against the door as it closed behind me. Oh Harkun, so easy to wind up. I looked forward to the day I could drive my saber through what remained of his shriveled heart.

 

Fortunately, my trip to the training rooms was uneventful, largely due to the combination of the continued investigation into Spindrall’s death, but also because I chose to whistle the Imperial anthem horribly off-key as I walked, drawing a few curious looks, but no interference.

 

The room was deserted when I entered it, triggering alarm bells in my head; it should have been filled with acolytes and apprentices alike, all honing their ability to kill. It was never this empty even at the oddest hour of night; there were always plenty of students scrambling desperately for every little edge that might help them survive their experience on Korriban. I moved past a pair of training dummies and glanced around the observation room, which was also empty. I could feel the goose bumps on my skin.

 

When I returned to the main training area, there were two shadows bracketing the ones cast by the dummies, and felt even dark presences behind them. Ah, so that’s what this is.

 

“Hello Wydr, Balek.” I nodded to the twins in turn. “I assume you aren’t here for some friendly sparring.” I kept my tone light, but slid my hand underneath my robe to get the hilt of my blade within reach.

 

“Um, no we aren’t.” Balek. I could only tell them apart because his brother was the one trying futilely to grow a moustache, a beard, any kind of facial hair. “Sorry, but you aren’t going to like this.”

 

I gave my shoulders a half-shrug to loosen my robes, then put a distinctly mock-innocent intonation in my voice. “Are you sure, boys? How do you know I won’t like it?”

 

Balek rubbed the back of his head uneasily, while his brother stared holes into the ground in front of him. “Look, it isn’t like that at all. We like you, we really do. Hell, Wydr’s had a crush on you since the moment he saw you on the shuttle.”

 

I flushed slightly at the news, but recognized a potential opportunity. “If that’s true, we don’t need to do this. We can find a way around whatever Harkun has put you up to.”

 

For a moment, a brief moment, a ray of hope shone on Balek’s face. It died quickly. “We can’t do that. He said he’d get us off Korriban if we took care of you. Ffon will kill us if we don’t, him or Harkun. I don’t want to die here. Neither of us does.” He looked ready to cry.

 

“I will kill Ffon, and I don’t want or need to kill you.” I hoped he recognized the sincerity in my voice. Balek and Wydr were victims, not villains, not my enemies.

 

He mulled that over for a second. “Maybe you could. We can’t take that risk, though, we have to get out of here. Neither of us are going to survive Ffon or Harkun. Neither of us will make it off Korriban.”

 

No, you aren’t I thought sadly as they drew their vibro-blades and activated them, bathing the darkened room in unnatural red and orange light.

 

“I’m sorry.” It was the last thing either of them would ever say.

 

Balek feinted at me from my right, while Wydr charged in hard. His heart wasn’t into it, though, so I casually sidestepped him and kicked out at the back of his leg, sending him sprawling. Balek came at me, screaming like a wild animal, but leaving his guard wide open as he swung wildly for where my head had been.

 

“I’m sorry,” I told him as I cut into his stomach.

 

He mouthed something silently as he dropped his sword, clutching at his stomach in a futile attempt to hold everything in. I forced myself to look away, and wrinkled my nose pungent odor filled the air. This isn’t how it’s supposed to happen. I sighed and turned back to Balek, who had pushed himself off the floor and was facing me, sword at the ready.

 

Balek wasn’t moving though, and his eyes were focused intently on his brother’s corpse. “Make it quick. Please. Quick and painless.” His eyes moved from Wydr to mine, the plea they had for me even weightier. “Not like him.”

 

I shook my head vigorously. “I can get you off Korriban, I’ve helped people escape. You don’t have to die. Neither of you did.” Even as my voice trailed off, I could sense what was coming. The Force did not lie to me, even when I wanted it to.

 

He answered by swinging his blade towards me, then adjusting quickly as I pirouetted out of the way. His slashes became faster, more wild, and it wouldn’t be long before he scored a lucky hit. Harkun was not a complete fool – I was no duelist. Time to make an end of it.

 

It came faster than either of us expected; he stabbed forcefully for my stomach, but I parried the blow and followed my inertia towards his body. He sank onto my blade, spitting out blood.

 

He looked at me sadly. “Can I go home now?” I couldn’t trust myself to speak, so I nodded as I lay his body down on the ground, closing his eyelids with my hand. I shivered, and crawled over to where his brother lay in a growing pool of blood.

 

I had not known Wydr, I couldn’t even remember having spoken to him, but I knew he had deserved better. I kissed his forehead gently, and sat in silence for moments that felt like an eternity.

 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

 

More blood on my hands. More lives to be weighed on the scale.

Edited July 9, 2013 by Lesaberisa

 

 

 

I slowly picked myself off the floor and made my way over to where I had dropped my robe. My mind a cacophony of scattered thoughts and painful memories, I reached down and picked it up, lay it over my right arm as I left the room. I wondered if I should report the incident to someone, try to ensure that Balek and Wydr’s bodies were treated with at least a modicum of respect. What would the point be, though? No one’ cared about them when they were alive, no one will care about them now that they are dead. They were simply more fodder for the Sith machine.

 

The academy was still fairly quiet as I returned to Harkun’s chamber, though the bloodstains on my hands and clothes attracted some attention from several passers-by. Only the acolytes, I noticed; the experienced Sith cared not a whit that a woman stained in blood was wandering through their school. Then again, they were probably used to the sight.

 

Zash had joined Harkun in his office while I was away, and they were having a heated discussion about something as I entered the room and they came into view. I cleared my throat to attract their attention. Zash looked slightly annoyed – whether at me or Harkun, I did not know – while Harkun looked about ready to burst that blood vessel over his eye. Normally that sight would have been a welcome one, but I was in no mood for games.

 

I slipped my mask back on, hoping neither had noticed.

 

“Good morning, Lord Zash.” I paused, giving Harkun a knowing glance and winking at him. “And you too, Overseer Harkun. I am ready for my next test.”

 

Zash raised an eyebrow and looked over at the man seated next to her. “Overseer, surely you did not send Acolyte Althe on the task without giving this student the same opportunity for success, did you?” Her tone was light, but with a faint undertone of menace.

 

“Of, of course not, my lord.” I had never seen Harkun this nervous before. “I simply had another task for her this morning, some physical training with the two other members of my group.”

 

“Indeed. I look forward to hearing about it.” There was a small flash of anger in her eyes as they shifted back to me, glancing up and down as if judging me. Well, you’ve got blood soaking through your top and pants, it’s not as if she doesn’t have a reason. “Such a shame, then, that you sent off the other of your acolyte without allowing me to give them vital information for completing the task.” I enjoyed the note of humor in her voice. Perhaps Zash will make for an ally against Harkun for as long as I need one.

 

Harkun gulped nervously. “Of course Lord Zash. Feel free to inform this acolyte as you wish.”

 

Her steely eyes took him in; he quailed. “I shall. Perhaps it would be best if you attended to other matters, while we wait for the results of this exercise.” He nodded briskly, then beat a hasty retreat, exiting the door I had entered through.

 

Zash turned to me.

 

“I am seeking the contents of a chamber within the tomb of Naga Sadow. At present time, I am unaware of exactly what is inside the chamber, but I know that you will need to activate four keystones to even enter it, let alone deal with any further complications inside.” I remained silent during her brief pause for breath. “During my research, I did manage to acquire information on these keystones and how they are activated, information I brought to this meeting to provide to the acolytes who would be taking part. Ffon Althe has already left, thanks to Harkun’s interferences. It seems Balek and Wydr will not be attending, either.”

 

I remained silent.

 

“I shall take your silence for understanding. Good.” She unfurled a large parchment with four locations designated with marks. A map of the tomb, I gathered. “These are the keystones. They must be activated with the ritual words I have provided on this data pad. Since you are the only remaining acolyte to receive them, I present them to you. Good luck.”

 

She gave me a smile that might have been sincere if it had come from a normal person.

 

I bowed and accepted the datapad. “I thank you, Lord Zash. Rest assured, I will return successfully.” I paused, and allowed the mask to drop for a moment. “Thanks to Harkun, I have a good deal of experience navigating deadly Sith tombs full of deathtraps and unspeakable horrors.”

 

She smiled slightly and waved me away.

 

After I washed myself and changed into a robe not covered in blood, I made my way towards the tomb. The trip was a short one, slowed only by encountering Sentry Yashia outside. Yashia was one of the few at the academy that treated the acolytes like people rather than cannon fodder, and she had done her best to curb the abuses of her peers. It was the least I could do to hear her out when I saw how upset she was..

 

“Veres- err, Acolyte!”

 

I smiled gently. “You may call me Veresia if you wish, we are friends of a sort, no? Or perhaps you already bet on Ffon Althe to win our competition?”

 

"No, nothing like that Aco- Veresia." She blushed slightly, making me feel slightly uneasy. She almost reminded me of Kory at times “There was another, um, acolyte, who entered the tomb. I haven’t seen him for hours, and I am quite concerned. I was wondering if, um, perhaps you could see if he’s all right. He’s a nice boy and I would just like to be sure. ”

 

”A nice boy”. Of course. I winced slightly; there was almost no chance anyone Yashia thought was nice would have survived being in a tomb for that long.

 

“That won’t be a problem at all, I will search for him.” Her face lit up, giving me hope that this might not end up being another terrible day of death and pain. “If I find anything out, I will inform you as soon as possible.” She smiled slightly and saluted. She always saluted, I never understood why.

 

I ventured into the tomb, passing small clusters of acolytes and apprentices congregated around various relics and objects. They talked in hushed whispers, as if afraid to be overheard, when what they should have been afraid of was the people they were talking to. I found Yashia’s friend about a quarter of the way into the tomb, torn apart by one of Korriban’s seemingly endless species of fanged and clawed predators.

 

As I leaned over him to pick up his identity card, he stirred slightly. He reached out and gripped the sleeve of my robe weakly. “Yashia?” His voice was faint. He didn’t have much time.

 

“No, not her,” I said apologetically. “But she sent me to find you. She was always thinking of you”

 

He managed a slmall smile before what little will he had left gave out. He let out a weak, hacking, cough out and then lay still. I grit my teeth and forced myself to move on; I didn’t need to dwell on another death.

 

The first keystone was only a room further into the tomb, an unimpressive green stone with Sith markings around it. I recited the words Zash had written down. Almost imperceptibly, the stone shifted slightly in its socket and faced a different direction. I suppose that’s that for this one. I repeated the procedure for the second and third stones. The task was proving almost tedious, all things considered.

 

That feeling died when I encountered Ffon Althe in front of the last. He drew his vibro-sword instantly, and his face twisted into an almost-parody of a raging Sith. “You! Worm! How dare you intrude in this place!”

 

“I’m only sightseeing, Ffon, I had no idea you were interested in cultural anthropology as well.” I favored him with an innocent smile. “Though, I must say, you look awfully overworked for a tourist. Breathing heavily, sweating profusely….perhaps you ought to be more concerned about your diet?”

 

His nostrils flared. “I have had enough of your insolence. Soon, you’ll be as dead as your friend.”

 

“You seem upset, Ffon. Tut, tut. Your emotions only give you strength if you maintain control, otherwise you are nothing more than a mindless beast.” I gave him a long, deliberate, look up and down. “Perhaps that is what you enjoy being, though. Harkun’s little lapdog barking at his every command.”

 

Ffon charged forward with a primal scream, blade raised above his head. He never made it.

 

I gripped him around the throat with the Force, lifting him off the ground. He dropped his blade, and reached for his throat, for as little good as it would do him. His legs dangled helplessly as I closed the distance between us…and closed my grip around his throat.

 

“You are a murderer, a monster, a blight upon the galaxy. Not just you, but all of your kind as well. You view other beings as nothing more than trophies to be mounted on your wall and stepping stones for your own personal gain.” His eyes, panicked now, met mine. “You are the epitome of why the Sith are a threat, why they are evil, and why they must be stopped.”

 

He made a supreme effort and managed a few words. “Please, mercy. I know you are not a true Sith.”

 

“You’re right, I’m not.” His eyes followed me as I circled him. “My father would have spared you, but he was a Jedi, and a man who had trained and lived as a servant of the Force. I am no Jedi, just what’s left of a girl whose life was destroyed by your masters and their servants. Any mercy I might have had for you died with her.”

 

“P-please.”

 

“No.”

 

I flicked my wrist to the side and sent a wave of Force energy towards him. He thrashed for a moment before I hurled him against the far wall. The collision shattered an ancient statue that must have been created eons ago, and broke Ffon’s neck with a satisfying crack. I felt his presence in the Force fade away.

 

“I shall give my condolences to Harkun. You two did make such a lovely couple.”

 

For once, Ffon had no pithy comment in response; I liked him better already.

 

Once the initial rush wore off, though, I sank back and rested against a wall. I could feel my blood rushing even as my anger subsided; part of it felt so good that I didn’t want to let go of the feeling…but I had to. Spindrall and Ffon had deserved death but I had to maintain control. I am no Jedi, but if I simply kill all that anger me, I *will* be a Sith. I took several long breaths to get myself back under control, then made my way to the fourth keystone to finish the ritual.

 

After completing the fourth incantation, I backtracked several rooms to return to the intersection of several of the major corridors. According to Zash’s map, the chamber containing whatever the artifact was would now be possible to enter. I moved forward, cloaking my presence in the Force as best I could to avoid detection. Ffon Althe was not the only danger to me, and certainly not the greatest.

 

The entrance was far more obvious than I could have guessed, and the chamber itself proved to be guarded by little more than a skeleton group of ancient battle droids. Some deranged mind had decided to have a large chasm make up much of the central area of the room, so it was simple enough to hurl the droids to their demise in whatever lay at the bottom below. The most interesting part of the chamber was the ‘artifact’. Not some relic or statue or weapon; it was a creature, towering over me as it floated in suspended animation.

 

I activated the controls on the machine holding the creature, and began the process of reanimating it. I looked over it – scarred gray skin pockmarked with what looked like battle wounds, fearsome-looking face. A Sith beast, no doubt. I moved back and waited for it to recover from waking up; after some time, it straightened itself and stared at me.

 

The creature spoke, an ancient language that I somehow still managed to understand. It must be through the Force, somehow

 

<I am Khem Val, and I am a servant of the true Lord of the Sith, Tulak Hord.>

 

I wasn’t quite sure what to make of it yet.

 

“Yes, that sounds quite nice, but we’ve got an appointment at the Sith Academy and I make it a habit to be on time. You wouldn't believe the amount of work that goes into getting an appointment at the hair customization kiosk.”

 

It stared at me, eyes unblinking. Then it roared with almost enough force to knock me off my feet.

 

This should prove interesting.

 

I drew my weapon and waited.

Edited July 14, 2013 by Lesaberisa

For once, Ffon had no pithy comment in response; I liked him better already.

 

Fantastic reaction.

 

 

 

He came at me, roaring again as he did. I reached out with the Force to slow his advanced, but this creature was a good deal stronger than Ffon Althe and – somehow – even uglier. He brushed my blade aside, not reacting to the wound across his arm, and reached back with his right arm to deliver a blow. I attempted to dodge it, but he caught me across the shoulder, sending my flying backwards and into an inconveniently placed pillar.

 

I shook away the stars and crawled to my feet, rolling out of the way of his headlong charge. Fortunately, he had not anticipated my quick recovery, so he crashed into the pillar at full speed, dazing him long enough for me to recover my sword and roll away some distance. I studied him closely with the moment I had bought myself; close combat would be suicide, and he appeared to have some kind of resistance to the Force. Not the most helpful combination for me.

 

<You are weak, Sith.> His voice was guttural, almost a growl, but beneath the raw rage I could sense something almost like regret. <I will consume you, I will escape from this prison, and I shall again serve the will of Tulak Hord.>

 

He came at me again, but this time I was ready. With the assistance of a carefully timed push with the Force, I used his unsubtle approach to throw him off balance and into another pillar, powered almost entirely by his own inertia. I decided to use the opportunity to make my pitch.

 

“That…” my voice trailed off as I wiped away blood from a cut on my lip. “That sounds quite lovely, only I don’t plan to die, at least not here. Not now. If you aren’t stupid, you don’t need to, either. There is a way for us to work out a mutually beneficial resolution.”

 

I could not claim to know Khem Val well, but I was still shocked by his reaction; he laughed.

 

<You are amusing, little creature.> His eyes positively glowed. <I do what I must. For Tulak Hord and the Sith.>

 

He suddenly lurched forward, catching me by surprise. This time, I had no chance – Force-assisted or not – to evade his blow, which sent me flying across parts of the chamber I hadn’t even noticed existed. He watched, with expectant eyes, as I slowly pushed myself to my hands and knees. Both of my legs were in bad shape – I could feel the pain easily through my attempts to numb my body with the Force. The cut on my lip had opened further and something bad had happened on my forehead, judging from the blood I could feel on my face. My left wrist felt broken, as well, but the pain was manageable.

 

<Give up, little human. I do not need you to suffer, I only need your energy.>

 

I laughed, which seemed to surprise him.

 

“Did that pick-up line work in the days of Tulak Hord, Khem?” He seemed confused. “Can I call you Khem? I do feel like once someone has broken several of your bones it’s entirely appropriate to be familiar with them.”

 

<What is this game?> Unbidden, the mental image of Khem Val scratching his head in confusion appeared.

 

“You say you serve the Sith.” I spoke slowly, deliberately. I needed the time to mend the wounds I could; the academy had done little to teach us of healing techniques, but I had made a point of studying them in my spare time. “I am a Sith. I am the strongest of my class. I will become a Sith Lord’s apprentice, and when I do I will need servants just as Tulak Hord did. You will have a place then, a place where you can reclaim your rightful place in the galaxy.” I tried to clench my left hand into a fist to punctuate my recruitment speech, but the pain from my wrist was too great.

 

<I do not think you are strong enough, human. I have bested you already, you simply do not know it.>

 

He was still talking, though, not attacking. I could feel the refreshing coolness of the Force flow through the bruised and broken parts of my body, like a cold, refreshing shower on a hot day. I need but a few more moments. Luckily, I was always the charming one of the family.

 

“You say that I am beaten, but I do not and cannot agree with your analysis. I do not sound beaten. I do not feel beaten. Perhaps you have overestimated the level of your success to some degree, perhaps your centuries of solitary torment wondering about the final fate of your fallen idol’s legacy has altered your facility for appropriate analysis, I am not certain.” Almost ready now, almost ready. “What I am certain of is that in this long, rambling, speech, I have yet to demonstrate any interest in arriving at a firm point. In fact one might argue that I am merely speaking at such length in order to arrive at a particular point of time at which point I will be proven right.”

 

Khem shook his head in frustration. <What do these words mean, human?>

 

I smiled toothily at him. “That you missed your chance.”

 

He charged again, but this time I was ready and the Force was fully with me. I sprinted out of the way and listened with great joy as I heard him crash into a pile of rubble. Roaring, he came back at me, swinging his arms as if to claw my head from my neck. With the aid of the Force, I dodged his blows easily, then pushed him away with a burst of energy. He managed to partially resist the first wave, but the second caught him firmly and threw him against the wall.

 

I could see the efforts he had already made had taxed him greatly; he was breathing more heavily than a Hutt attempting to move its head, and I could sense his frustration despite his efforts to mask it.

 

<You are not a true warrior, human. You speak and talk but you cannot fight. How can I serve someone I cannot respect on the battlefield?>

 

“Perhaps you are right, and I am no true warrior. Does a Sith need to be a true warrior to be strong? I think not, my mind is my weapon.” I lightened my tone. “I say again, Khem Val, you need not be my enemy, you do not want to be my enemy. Swear yourself to my service and let us end this.”

 

He considered that for a moment.

 

<I am a warrior, I know only the scent and thrill of battle. Your mind will not satisfy my hunger for war.>

 

As soon as he finished speaking, I knew I had won. Khem Val would never win a battle of the mind. An outright fight would have been winnable for me, but at great cost. I could sense that Khem could be a powerful tool – even ally – if I was intelligent about how I used him. His presence in the Force was as dark as any Sith I had encountered, but his single-minded nature about battle could be redirected if I was careful.

 

I spoke carefully, but firmly. He appreciated strength, and apparently even recognized the value of mental and psychological prowess, so I had to avoid coming across as patronizing. Oh, how I would have loved to see Harkun deal with him.

 

“We are not completely alike, Khem Val, but we share many of the same desires. I wish to bring down those that have wrong me, as do you. I seek revenge and retribution for crimes committed against those I held dear, and so do you. I am no warrior, but you most definitely are, and if you join me today, I shall ensure you do not go hungry for as long as I live.” I met his eyes with a firm gaze and dropped my mask slightly to let him sense the fire beneath the surface. “My path is not the same as Tulak Hord's, but you will find it more than fruitful. Swear yourself to me and I swear that to you.”

 

He was silent for a long time, which satisfied me regardless of his decision. If he chose to refuse my offer, my wounds were sufficiently attended to that I could fight, and I knew how to deal with him. If not, I had a very strange new friend.

 

<I will follow you, human, as long as you do as you promise. Too long have I slumbered here in the dark, while the enemies of Tulak Hord run rampant. Too long have I allowed my master’s enemies to move unchecked. My blade will run red with the blood of our enemies, my hunger will be sated by those that stand in our way!>

 

“Yes. Of course. Very good, Khem.” I wondered if it might be possible to put him on some sort of leash. “Are there any other artifacts in this chamber, Khem? Anything that might be of value in our quest?”

 

He thought on that for a moment. <There is a device within my prison chamber, it is a map of Sith artifacts. I never cared for such things, I care only for war. I served Tulak Hord at Yn and Chabosh.>

 

I nodded sagely. “Be a dear and pick it up, I believe Lord Zash may have use of it.” He began moving in that direction. “Oh, and Khem?” He turned to face me. “Do adjust your loincloth.”

Edited July 16, 2013 by Lesaberisa

“Oh, and Khem?” He turned to face me. “Do adjust your loincloth.”

Bahahahahahaha!

“Oh, and Khem?” He turned to face me. “Do adjust your loincloth.”

 

GAH!!!!! I think I may need to bleach my mind now.....

 

Oh, and I am totally loving Veresia's story!

Luckily I have extra bleach lying around! Actually, the loincloth was one of those things my weird mind always wondered about - it's always in perfect condition, even after all those years. Why can't my laundry be the same?

 

--------------------

 

I gave up the façade of strength as we headed back towards the entrance, slowing down and allowing myself to limp rather than forcing myself to grit through the pain. I wondered how I would explain Ffon Althe’s death, to say nothing of the gigantic monster I had with me, particularly one that wore nothing more than a blade and a graying loincloth. We walked in silence; I was too busy trying to direct my limited Force healing at my injuries to even attempt to talk. Khem, I had decided, simply wasn’t much of a conversationalist.

 

He made a sound that might have been a chuckle as we passed Ffon Althe’s body, but I did not feel it was prudent to ask for clarification. We passed the corpse of Yashia’s acolyte friend, reminding me that I would have to pass along some unfortunate news as well. For a moment, I considered asking Khem to carry the body out with us, but I worried he would simply eat the corpse instead. The few archaeologists and other scholars that had been in the tomb when I first arrived had cleared out, so our presence went undetected until we reached the entrance and stepped back out into the hostile Korriban atmosphere.

 

Yashia’s eyes grew as big as saucers when she saw Khem emerge from the archway, and she made no effort to hide her unease, shifting from one foot to the other. Her right arm slipped into place on her rifle, but her fear made the gesture far too obvious.

 

<Little human, may I eat this one?> Khem sounded almost plaintive. <She is weak, and I hunger for sustenance.>

 

I frowned at him. “You will do no such thing; Yashia is my friend. Had you considered more carefully, you would have realized the pureblood corpse in the tomb was a better choice.” I turned to Yashia. “I am sorry, but your friend did not survive the trip into the tomb. We found his body inside, but it was not safe enough to take with us.”

 

Yashia didn’t say anything, looking down at the ground to hide the tears I had already seen; her sadness was impossible to miss with the Force too, even within the cacophony of terrible emotion let loose on Korriban. Khem remained where he stood, awkwardly staring at Yashia and awaiting a command. I suppose it’s a blessing he didn’t kill her. I moved next to her, wrapping my arm around her shoulder to offer what comfort I could.

 

“I brought his medallion back with me. Is there someone at the academy I can return it to. Or, perhaps, did you want….?"

 

She looked up, brushing away the tears. “His father…his father commands the guard outside the chambers of the Dark Council. If you could return the medallion, maybe...” Her voice trailed off as her eyes gazed off into nothing. “I would greatly appreciate it.”

 

I nodded, and pat her gently on the shoulder, motioning with my head to Khem that it was time to move on. Lady Zash would be waiting, and there was nothing more I could do for Yashia. There never was anything I could do. For her, for Kory, for anyone. I grimaced and pushed on, trying my best to ignore the gawkers that lined the path back to the academy. One would almost think they had never seen a giant monster wearing a loincloth and wielding a massive blade before.

 

Hopefully Lord Zash and Harkun could be dispensed with quickly, as the wave of nausea that I had successfully held back for so long was testing the limits of my healing abilities. I would need time to rest, recuperate, and research; if a single Dashade could pose such a threat, I would obviously be in way over my head if I tried anything drastic soon.

 

You will need to live like a Sith, learn to think like one, find ways to turn their strengths into weaknesses and your weaknesses into strengths. The enormity of my weakness was daunting, but there was little I could do about it now. No – I needed to play the dutiful apprentice, and wait for my opportunities.

 

Zash and Harkun were standing over the latter’s desk when we returned to the chamber. Harkun’s face was red with anger, and his complexion was not helped by his reaction to seeing me, let alone by the fearful look he could not hide when Khem Val entered the room. Zash had a knowing smile, but like all of her smiles it was as sincere as everything else on this planet. There was something dangerous lurking below the surface of that woman, though I knew I could not hope to know what. Someone to watch, though. Perhaps she might be an ally, perhaps an avenue for advancement…or simply a particularly adept opponent.

 

“You, slave! Why are you here? Lord Zash commanded you to return only when you completed her task, and I know you could not possibly have done so.” He paused, then pointed a quaking finger at Khem. “And you bring this…creature…before us. It is an outrage!” The spittle forming at the corners of his mouth was almost as amusing as his newfound subservience to Zash.

 

She looked at me for a long moment, causing an involuntary shudder to pass through me. For whatever reason, her gaze made me feel like a piece of meat being judged by a butcher, and I did not like the experience. After she was satisfied, she nodded to let me know I could speak.

 

“In fact, Harkun, I completed her task and recovered this Dashade warrior, who now serves me as he once served Tulak Hord.”

 

He sputtered. “T-that is impossible. Only Ffon could possibly be talented enough to accomplish that.”

 

I frowned disingenuously at him, pretending to wipe away a tear. “Sadly, Ffon Althe’s excursion to the tomb did not end so well. I imagine the broken neck will be problematic for any future career as a Sith.” My frown twisted into a smile that was – perhaps – a touch more feral and vicious than I had intended, judging from the way Harkun stepped unsteadily backwards.

 

“She has admitted to murdering another acolyte. That is sacrilege!” His cheeks were as read as his tattoo. No doubt, his ugly Sith grandmother would have cherished the resemblance to her, as well.

 

Zash silenced him with a slash of her hand. “Nonsense. She has outlined the failure of Ffon Althe, your chosen acolyte, who you chose to favor for no reason other than your own blind prejudices.” For a moment, it seemed as if Harkun might summon the suicidal courage to challenge her, but his jaw snapped shut. “Did you think I had not noticed the way his competition was left conveniently vulnerable and ended up dead whenever it might pose a challenge. Every one of his rivals….save one.” Her eyes tracked back to me. I felt that uncomfortable ripple up my spine again, and had to force myself to remain still. After a moment that felt like forever, she looked away. “Leave us, Overseer. I have business to attend to. I will need some privacy to speak with my new apprentice.”

 

He bowed in her direction, and left in a huff. I did not trust Zash – could not trust her – but some part of me could not help but like her. I stepped forward and took the seat she offered.

 

“You have done well….Veresia, I believe it is.” It was entirely forced - I wondered if she realized how transparent she was being. Still, I did not need to provoke her, so I nodded. “You have impressed me throughout your time here at the academy. You have overcome the obstacles in place for every student, you even managed to best an overseer and his prized pupil. All in all, a very impressive display of skill and intelligence. I must also commend you for your performance on this last task – not only did you secure the map that I requested, you also managed to acquire your own Dashade warrior.”

 

I waved away her praise, feeling dangerously close to appreciating it. “It was nothing, Lord Zash. I simply set my mind to the task at hand and accomplished it as efficiently as possible.” I winced as my legs and wrist ached in concert.

 

“Still, it is an impressive show of determination, especially after the….unfortunate death of your friend.” I grit my teeth at the mention of Kory, but said nothing. “What is it that drives you? Why is it that you find a way to succeed when failure is so much more likely?”

 

There was only one answer I could give, though I could not give it without risking so much more, if I wasn’t careful.

 

“There are debts to be paid, and people that must pay them. Nothing more, nothing less. I have my reasons.”

 

Zash stroked her chin, mulling that over. “Yes, I do sense your anger. You do well to hide it, but there is something more to it.” For a moment, I feared that everything would come undone, but she seemed satisfied with that superficial understanding. “No matter. I have accepted you as my apprentice and notified the Dark Council of my intentions to train you further in the Dark Side of the Force. Do you accept this position?”

 

It was not a question, really. Not unless I have a death wish. I rose from the chair, but chose not to kneel. I knew it was expected, customary for a new apprentice, but I would give no Sith the satisfaction of bending the knee to them. That, and I am not entirely sure that my knees are capable of bending. Zash did not seem to notice, anyway. “I accept, my lord. I am ready to learn, anything and everything you have to teach me.”

 

She nodded. “For the time being, you need to rest. I can sense your pain, though you try to hide it. Use that time to study further and to learn more of your new servant.” She cleared her throat. “He is a dangerous creature, but also quite useful. Do not let his talents go to waste, the prowess of the Dashade is legendary.”

 

I nodded, not trusting my suddenly dry throat or unsteady nerves.

 

“When you have sufficiently recovered, join me on Dromund Kaas. We have a great deal of work to do.” Her eyes hardened, flinty steel where before there had been only faux warmth. “Do make sure to recover quickly. I do not wish to have my time wasted.”

 

Not seeing any point in discussing it further, I nodded again and began limping for the door.

 

I was now a Sith apprentice. One step closer to where I needed to be. One step closer to damnation.

Edited July 21, 2013 by Lesaberisa

Minor note: Appearance by my SW, no real spoilers.

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I remained on Korriban for a week, to ensure proper recuperation from my injuries and complete as much study of healing techniques as I could. Unsurprisingly, the texts within the library were more focused on techniques for causing pain in others, even one’s own family and friends. There was even significant study of an ability that would steal almost the entirety of someone’s life energy and give it to the caster. The incantation, labeled simply as “Sacrifice” had notes that stated the source had to be a trusting companion, the implications of which were disturbing to me.

 

Still, there was a wealth of knowledge to browse through; both enlightening tomes that would expand my ability to heal those around me and dark secrets I now knew to avoid. I now fully understood what lay ahead of me as Zash’s apprentice; it would be neither easy nor pleasant…I would have to compromise myself at times to maintain my cover. I was not ready to confront the Sith that haunted my nightmares – perhaps I never would be – but I might be if I walked that narrow path between temptation and corruption.

 

For most of that week, I remained sequestered within the archives and libraries. It wasn’t simply that I wanted to focus on the knowledge I was accumulating; I was also afraid to face the rumors that had been spreading in the wake of the death of Ffon Althe – that, I had been at least partially responsible. That alone would not have troubled me, but the salacious details had turned what had been justice into a vile and unspeakable crime. No doubt, the presence of a Dashade servant did little to ease the concerns of those disquieted by the stories.

 

I could do nothing about those whispers, not yet at least. Though Zash had not appeared to care much, I knew that Harkun and others would pounce on the chance to strike back for what had – technically speaking – been a violation of the academy’s rules. It was almost amusing – how tightly some Sith clung to rules and propriety when it suited them even as they served an order that eagerly sought out destruction and death on a scale unmatched by anyone in history. The sycophants that defended a system that allowed such evil were even more sickening than those that formed it; they should have known better, but blinded themselves to the truth.

 

On the third day, I had finally worked up enough courage to present the medallion I had from Yashi’a friend to his father; it was the least I could do having given my word. The man had chilled me to my bone, sounding glad to hear of his son’s death and almost hoping to hear it was an inglorious and painful one. He was the sort of man that not only served the Sith, but did so with a smile on his face. It was with great pleasure that I dashed his hopes by regaling him with a story of his son’s bravery – the acolyte that had challenged the most dangerous of Sith tombs and come within a hair’s breadth of succeeding.

 

The brief respite had had to end, though – Zash did not have infinite patience, and neither did I. I would accomplish nothing by remaining on Korriban any longer than was productive; it would only give my enemies time to plot against me, and I knew they already were. Harkun had seen me in the archives one night and would have certainly attempted to strike me down had he not been so tied down by his precious Sith traditions. Others would be no friendlier, no doubt seeing my death as an opportunity for advancement.

 

And so it was that I found myself at the landing pad for shuttle departures for the Dromund Kaas, my favorite Dashade hovering around me like an oversized and hideous puppy. A violent one, too.

 

<I am pleased to be returning to Dromund Kaas. We will find greater challenges there. None that will rival the days of Tulak Hord, but I will trust in you, Little Sith.>

 

At some point during our would-be honeymoon phase, he had begun referring to me as “Little Sith”, though he refused to clarify whether it was meant to be affectionate, a threat, or simply a reminder that I was not nearly as tall as him. I suspected it was a threat, but I did not have a strong handle on his character yet, only that he seemed sincere in his acceptance of my commands, and as his place as my servant. I frowned at that word; I was not comfortable with having servants, let alone one like Khem Val.

 

“Rest assured, Khem, when we are through with Zash and her machinations, I will make sure you are kept appropriately challenged.” He gave me a dubious look, so I continued. “Though you do not know of it yet, I have a plan that will see you gorged to your fill…if we don’t die along the way.”

 

He was silent for a moment.

 

<I can accept this; it is better to die a glorious death in service to my master than live an eternal existence trapped like I was before. If you fail to deliver on your promises….if you fail to deliver on your promises, I will find a way to break the chain that links us and I will consume you.>

 

I waved away his threat. “Yes, yes, we’ve been over this before. In your prison, remember?” He looked nonplussed by my response. “If you want to spend your free time studying for ways to free yourself and find another master, by all means, please do. I think you will find you have no reason for complaint about me, however.”

 

<For your sake, Little Sith, I hope not.>

 

I yawned and turned away, pleased to hear the whine of the arriving shuttle’s repulsorlifts. Khem was not one for witty banter, and I had been starved for real conversation after Kory…after I had lost Kory. The docents within the libraries had been more than happy to discuss arcane Sith rituals, but they did not understand the needs of the little girl that had lost her family, or the grown woman that desperately wanted friends, anyone, to replace it.

 

The shuttle landed, an Mandate-class model, if I recognized it correctly. Diomedes would have known; he had a mind for organization and classification, but now he was most likely resting in a shallow grave on Ithaca. I sighed heavily and marched up the ramp to board the ship, sensing Khem behind me. I slid past a crewmember and made my way to the cabin Zash had booked for us. It proved acceptable – a small refresher , a view-screen for entertainment purposes and two beds. They looked a little short for Khem, but he could make do. [i}And even if he couldn’t, it was not my problem.[/i] I sat down on one, claiming it for my own, while Khem sat opposite me, glowering.

 

Unexpectedly, the door behind us slid open again, revealing an angry looking Sith Pureblood, followed somewhat reluctantly by a blue Twi’lek with a shock collar around her neck. I even recognized the model, as my sympathy went out to girl. No one who had not been a slave could understand how demeaning the collar was, and it was clear the Sith in control of it would never even bother trying.

 

“What are you doing here, human filth? This is my cabin.” The pureblood was staring at me with piercing yellow eyes. Her presence in the force was wholly unguarded…and uninviting – a black morass of hatred and vile emotions.

 

“I am Lord Zash’s apprentice. You will show me the respect you choose not to show to your companion.” The Sith glowered at me, then shifted her ire to the Twi’lek as she moved to sit down next to me.

 

“Vette,” I heard her murmur quietly.

 

“Veresia,” I replied with a slight smile. “I am not as monstrous as your colleague, despite my companion’s appearance." Vette’s eyes went as big as saucers as she took Khem in.

 

<I recommend we not play sabacc, Twi’lek. I have an excellent sabacc face.>

 

The Twi’lek eyed him curiously, while the Sith stomped her feet while standing in the doorway. I could have sworn I saw smoke coming from her nostrils, but I could have been wrong. After an awkward pause, Vette finally responded. “Well, there go my evening’s plans.”

 

Khem nodded along with her. <That was a joke. I hate sabacc.>

 

“How about pazaak?”

 

We sat in silence for nearly a minute.

 

“This is…unacceptable! Darth Baras should have known better than to arrange for my transport on a shuttle where I would have to share a room with the likes of you. It is abhorrent enough that I must walk about with the Twi’lek.”

 

I glanced over at Vette, who shrugged. “She gets cranky sometimes.”

 

The Sith was stomping around all over the cabin now, hands curled into fists and nostrils flaring in rage. I had not thought her skin could get any redder, but she had found a way. “This is an outrage. I am Malicineve, servant to Darth Baras. I am not to be trifled with.”

 

I was getting bored with her antics. “Oh, sit down. It’ s a long trip to Dromund Kaas, and I won’t have the likes of you putting scuff marks on the floor that I’ll be held responsible for. You look ridiculous.”

 

For a moment, as I felt the anger within her, I wondered if she would attack me then and there. Thankfully - I had no wish to fight - it subsided somewhat, and she sat down next to Khem Val. The two shared an awkward look.

 

It was going to be a long trip.

Edited July 22, 2013 by Lesaberisa

The voyage to Dromund Kaas might have been almost pleasant had it not been for Malicineve. When she was awake, she ranted endlessly about her future as the greatest Sith of our era, one that would crush the Republic and bring about a new destiny for the Empire. When she was asleep, she drooled on her pillow and snored, filling the cabin with a sound similar to those made by a dying tauntaun. Khem had relinquished his spot on the bed and instead paced furiously in the room and up and down the surrounding area of the ship, no doubt traumatizing anyone he ran into. I hoped he had not eaten any one.

 

Vette was pleasant enough company, though I didn’t need the Force to sense her fear of her master and her disgust for the collar she was forced to wear. No one who has not been a slave can understand how demeaning the experience was, how it stripped you of your sense of self-worth, how it debased your very existence when you lived only at the pleasure of a master wielding a whip. There was no worse feeling in the galaxy than realizing you are not a person; you are simply property to be disposed of when no longer desired. In the few minutes we were able to speak with Malicineve out of the room, it became clear that Vette felt the same way.

 

Hearing the pain and sorrow in her voice was more difficult than I would have though. I had to resist the temptation to attempt to strike Malicineve down and remove the collar myself. It will do you no good to give in to such base desires; even if you survive the attempt, Vette will not. I busied myself by spending time on the Holonet, doing what research I could on Zash to better understand the woman I would be working with. I may be her apprentice, but I do not serve her. Not now, not ever.

 

When we arrived at the spaceport on the Imperial capital, Malicineve stormed off without so much as a second thought, forcing Vette to carry both of their suitcases. I thought of offering to help, but decided not to risk the Sith’s wrath; it would be dangerous to risk angering the apprentice of someone as feared as Darth Baras. Instead, I slung my bag over my shoulder, ignoring Khem’s mute offer of assistance, and made my way to the door.

 

The spaceport itself was a dull affair, much like a conversation with Khem. There was the usual mix of Imperial functionaries, military personnel, Sith and civilians that looked like they’d rather be anywhere but where they were. I did not blame them – off to one side I could see security personnel detaining an entire family, with one of the guards waving what looked like a shock prod at one of the children. I could feel the anger rising within me, but I had to restrain myself. It will be difficult to mask my intentions if I go after every Sith or Imperial acting against my conscience.

 

I found myself saying that a lot, but it was far easier to say and a lot harder to actually put into practice; it was also becoming all too easy to use it as an excuse for inaction.

 

I considered myself fortunate that I did not hear the girl's plaintive, “Daddy” or see her tears, until I was almost out of the main waiting area. Khem and I passed through the first round of security without much difficulty – surprising, given the looks that he was garnering from the various personnel throughout the area. Once we’d crossed past the last checkpoint in the zone, though, we found ourselves confronted by a large cyborg flanked by a pair of large Trandoshans. I decided to take the offensive.

 

“Khem, I must congratulate you on the success of your efforts. I had no idea you would be this adept at finding an appropriately intimidating chauffer for our stay on Dromund Kaas. You have done well.” I detected a momentary flash of confusion from him, but he nodded along. “A strapping man, if advanced in years, and two lovely Trandoshans, no doubt cultural attaches here for our educational benefit.”

 

The man was not amused, staring down at me with one human eye and one cyborg. His biological one seemed even colder and inhumane than the mechanical one, somehow. “Amusing. As will be your death if you do not show me the appropriate level of respect.”

 

I shrugged slightly, then gestured towards him while facing my companion. “Khem, I know you’re on a diet, but perhaps instead of consuming shuttle personnel you can eat him instead.” I punctuated the suggestion with a bright smile at everyone involved in the conversation.

 

Khem considered the prospect for a moment. <I am sorry, Little Sith. He is twisted, more machine than man now. It would probably cause indigestion.>

 

I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to know what that would entail, exactly, so I nodded sadly. “It appears I must hear him out, then. Hopefully he is more interesting than your bunkmate from the shuttle.”

 

The cyborg, whoever he was, seemed to be about ready to burst from pent-up anger. “I am Darth Skotia, child, the master of your master. I know you must view Lady Zash as some paragon of Sith values, but she is an upstart and you are but a toy. A weak, pathetic, toy that destroyed a more worthy apprentice.”

 

Oh, this is precious.

 

“Do you mean Ffon Althe?” I kept my voice as even and neutral as possible.

 

“I do indeed. He was the model for Sith perfection.” There was anger in his voice, but also annoyance. He must have plotted with Harkun and others to get his favored apprentice in place for some time. I wondered if he might have been planning for Zash’s demise at Ffon’s hands.

 

“Dead perfection, then.” I smiled viciously at his poorly hidden reaction. “You must have an odd sense of what perfection means. Perhaps you require a new dictionary, I must assume yours would describe Dromund Kaas as pleasant and Darth Baras as thin.”

 

His dark skin hid most of the flush that took hold over his face, but he could not mask the rage that was threatening to engulf me. Truth be told, I almost felt sorry for the man…if it took so little to cause him to lose his self-control, it was a wonder that he had not been struck down by some rival years ago. “You are lucky that I am in a forgiving mood. Luckier still that I respect the traditions and rules that order me not to strike you down where you stand. Remember that, for next time you will not be so lucky.”

 

He pushed past me roughly, his spiky armor digging through my robes and into my skin. I bit my tongue to keep from gasping; I would not let him have any satisfaction from our encounter. Once he was safely out of range, I let out a soft gasp. Much to my surprise, Khem reacted instantaneously, reaching my side and putting his hand on my shoulder. His grip was suprisingly gentle.

 

<Are you injured, Little Sith?>

 

“Why Khem, who knew you would be my knight in shining armor I always dreamed of?” The sarcasm seemed lost on him, but it was hard to tell because of the whole unreadable Dashade phisiology issue. We stared at each other for a long moment, then made our way towards the exit. After another round of security checks, we found our way to the center for local transportation, a large circular building with multiple ports for speeder taxis.

 

A few officers were standing about the area, looking like they had jobs they wanted done. I ignored their requests for aid, particularly the imperious-looking one that claimed some beacons had to be reset or the planet would be doomed, and claimed a spot on a speeder heading for Kaas City. Khem was able to frighten a pair of naval officers into giving up their seats for him. The sight of their panicked flight back into the terminal amused me.

 

“Do you believe that nonsense, Khem? That the Imperial capital might fall because of encroaching beasts?”

Khem let out what I had learned was his version of a laugh. <It is absurd, Little Sith. An Empire that would lose its capital to jungle beasts is no Empire at all. In the days of Tulak Hord we would not have allowed such weakness. When I strode across the battlefields of Yn and…>

 

“Yes, yes. Glorious victories, one and all.” He attempted to speak again, but I cut him off. “The past is the past, Khem, it is time to look towards your future.”

 

He fell silent at that, and I was content to let the conversation die there. I did not enjoy spending time with or talking to him, but I had no one else. During the shuttle flight, I had spent hours on the idle fancy of finding some way to contact Ayrs, but – by the end – I had simply become more frustrated. I had no idea where he would be or what he would be doing; the last we had heard from him was a short text message checking in when he was back at the academy. He might be anywhere in the galaxy by now. He might be dead.

 

I couldn’t think like that. I wouldn’t let myself think like that.

 

Fortunately, the speeder taxi was arriving at the Sith Citadel, an imposing black building that looked like something from out of my nightmares. I heard whispers from behind us as Khem and I disembarked, no doubt civilians convinced they had survived a brush with death, who would go home to their children and tell them of the Dashade monster they had sat next to on the taxi. Despite my best efforts, a small smile appeared on my face.

 

Zash’s office was about what I would have expected from a Sith; grandiose artwork, relics from both the Sith and Jedi, and a single man frozen in carbonite, no doubt some fool that had crossed her in the past. You had better watch yourself, lest you become the next ‘fool’. She was seated at her desk and did not look up as I approached, instead motioning me to the chair across from her. I sat down, while Khem hovered awkwardly behind me.

 

“Apprentice, it is good to see you here. I heard there was some trouble at the spaceport?” She phrased it like a question but spoke it like a statement.

 

“Yes, Lord Zash. There was a rather rude man with a cybernetics fetish that accosted Khem and me as we were passing through security. It was an inconvenience, nothing more.”

 

She smiled slightly at that. “That was Darth Skotia. A dangerous man, far more dangerous than your joking tone suggests you believe him to be. He is my superior and fears me, fears my plans for the future. He knows that so long as he is alive I must view him as an obstacle, but he dares not strike against me for fear of retribution. The Dark Council does not look upon power plays too favorably. Unfortunately that also means I cannot move directly against him.” Finally, she looked up, her eyes searching for something within mine.

 

“It does not mean that someone else cannot, though. An apprentice, perhaps, seeking her master’s approval.”

 

Zash raised an eyebrow, revealing age lines on her face I had not seen before. “Why, yes. That would be the case, if such apprentice existed. Of course, said apprentice would also need to acquire certain objects to succeed. Rumor has it there is a tablet located within Skotia’s base at the Colossus southeast of here that can be used to control his Trandoshan bodyguards. Rumor also has it that the rebellious Lord Grathan was working on a device that could be used against people with, how should I put it, a sufficiently high amount of cybernetic enhancements.”

 

I smiled grimly at that. Leave it to a Sith to provide the tools needed to further undermine their own order, all for some power. “Khem and I can certainly find time in our schedules to locate these items. We should begin immediately, at the Colossus. I saw the news report of a slave rebellion there; we cannot risk Skotia moving it to a more secure location.”

 

Zash nodded absent-mindedly. She reached into the open drawer on her desk and pulled out an elegant wood box, which she opened. She lifted a metal cylinder out of it, carefully holding it in both hands. I recognized it immediately, of course, having seen my father’s so many times as a little girl. “This was my lightsaber when I was an apprentice like you, before I crafted a newer model for myself. I would like you to have it. Consider it a gift, from a master to a most promising of apprentices.”

 

The temptation to send a side-eyed glance at her was incredibly difficult to resist, but I did. “Thank you, Lord Zash. I will put it to good use.”

 

Her smile was enigmatic, fueled by something other than warmth. “Yes, you will.”

Edited July 25, 2013 by Lesaberisa

Ah, Veresia, your acid tongue is...probably going to get you in a lot of trouble.

 

I was always disappointed that Khem Val doesn't consider Darth Skotia worth devouring.

So sorry for the delay....

 

 

 

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Dromund Kaas was a dismal planet. In theory, the jungles teeming with life should have been more welcome than the barren landscape of Korriban, but there was little about the various gundarks, sleens and other vicious creatures hidden in the shadows to enjoy.

 

As Khem and I made our way to Darth Skotia’s base, we passed various encampments; military, civilian, archaeological, even some that looked to be populated by slaves and others that had attempted to carve out what little piece of the world they could outside of Sith domination. Freedom that exists only because the Sith decided it was not worth the effort to put them down. Rumors spread amongst the apprentices in the city that there were even compounds of Revanites – Sith heretics that followed teachings ascribed to the legendary Revan.

 

Khem had little to say during the speeder trip out to the jungle outpost nearest our destination; I imagined it was something of a homecoming for him, though I did not know how to ask without the conversation inevitable becoming awkward. Instead, I let him take in the views around us, even as we disembarked the speeder and moved towards the colossus on foot.

 

The news reports had mentioned disturbances in the area related to a slave revolt, but had – unsurprisingly – described them as minor setbacks to the process. Our first clear view of the construction site destroyed that pleasant lie in an instant; the various guard posts and checkpoints within the zone were swarming with poorly-clothed slaves, and the nearest Imperial emplacements I could see were at least several miles away.

 

<Tulak Hord would never have allowed such insolence from slaves, he would have destroyed them at the first sign of resistance. A Sith that allows this to happen is no Sith at all.> He glared up at the towering colossus. <And a Sith that cannot control mere workers does not deserve such a monument.>

 

“I would say that no Sith deserves such a monument, but perhaps I speak out of turn. I was a slave myself, after all. One might say you are one right now.” Something ugly flashed in his eyes, but he remained silent. “You do not respect weakness, I understand that. But I also understand that the Sith are weak as well, in their own way. They are incapable of sustaining loyalty through means other than fear and violence.”

 

<Fear and violence are powerful tools. In the end, the galaxy is a harsh place. The strong prevail and thrive, the weak are tossed aside and perish. It is how things are, and the Sith are wise to recognize it.>

 

I brushed some hair out of my face and shrugged at him. We looked at each other for a moment, then both turned to face forward. I am not likely to have much of a philosophical discussion with the likes of Khem Val.

 

“According to Lord Zash, we will find Skotia’s base located near the base of the colossus, which will require us to make our way through those slave camps ahead. Can I count on you to behave yourself?”

 

Khem looked puzzled, but gave a slight nod.

 

As we approached the first slave encampment, I waved my arms around and raised my voice. “Hello there. I have important matters to discuss with you.” I saw eyes peering suspiciously through the barricade and was nearly overwhelmed by the barely restrained violence I could feel through the Force. “I mean you no harm, I wish only to conduct some personal business.” I thought I heard Khem biting on his tongue, but I could have been wrong; Dashade physiology was not a subject I was well-versed in.

 

At long last, the barricade opened and three figures came walking toward us. Haggard, wearing torn clothing that clung to their emaciated bodies like the stench of evil does to a Sith, the two men and one woman looked less than pleased to see me. I cannot blame them, if I were any other Sith they would be walking straight into a trap that would end in their painful deaths.

 

I decided to get the conversation started. “My name is Veresia and I am an apprentice to Lord Zash. We have business at the Imperial complex opposite this area, under the colossus.” I paused, then remembered my manners, gesturing to my right. “This is Khem Val, my faithful companion. Say hello, Khem.”

 

<Hello> It was like pulling teeth with him, sometimes.

 

The woman, a green-skinned Twi’lek that looked like she was quite ill, eyed us both suspiciously. “Why should we believe you? And even if we do, why should we let you pass? Why not just kill you instead of helping you with Sith business?”

 

I bit my lower lip as I pondered how best to make my case. The slaves had no reason to trust or assist me, and I was simply here at the bidding of a Sith lord, hardly something to recommend me to them. Only one thing to do. I rolled up the sleeve of my robe to reveal the brands that had once marked me as property. “Because I was once one of you.”

 

They huddled around each other, speaking in whispers they must have not realized I could hear anyway with the aid of the Force. After a couple of minutes, the Twi’lek turned back to me and gave a solemn nod. “I will walk with you, so the rest know not to attack.” I nodded, and we walked in silence through the dozens of slave holdouts. At first, she regarded me with suspicion, probably expecting me to do reconnaissance work for the military while I was there. Once she realized I had been truthful, though, she relaxed enough that I no longer felt it necessary to have my hand hovering over the hilt of Zash’s lightsaber.

 

She stopped walking when we were a couple of hundred feet away from Skotia’s bunker.

 

“Is that it for the guided tour? Such a shame, Khem seemed to be enjoying it so much.” I offered her a smile, but she failed to react to it or my words.

 

Instead, her face scrunched up with anger. “Why aren’t you helping us? A Force-user would really help us hold off their raids. And you wouldn’t be helping no karking Sith.”

 

A good question, but not one I could quite answer. Particularly not with my favorite Dashade around. “I…I can’t. Not yet, at least. I can do more good once I am properly trained and have more resources to help.”

 

Her scowl disappeared, but I did not like the ugly smile that replaced it. “Meanwhile, we’ll just get crushed into paste when the Imperial war machine. Save your “I was like you” crap for someone who gives a damn. You’re happy enough being a Sith when it suits your purposes.” She turned and started walking back to where we had started. “Kark you and your Sith monster. Hope the Empire drops a bomb on you both.”

 

Khem and I watched her retreating form in silence. Him because he did pretty much everything silently, me because I had no response for her words. I knew, deep down, that she was wrong, but for now that proof was just pleasant talk and thought and very little action. She was right – sooner or later, the Imperial military would smash its way through the slave camps and slaughter almost everyone. A few might survive for a while in the jungles, but not for long. And you aren’t helping, you’re just here running an errand for a Sith Lord that would enjoy seeing them all die.

 

<I could eat her> Khem looked at me thoughtfully.

 

I shook a clenched fist at him, and we made our way to the bunker’s entrance. It was sealed up tight, no doubt for protection against particularly brave or foolish slaves that might try anything crazy. Fortunately, it was easy enough to climb on the roof with Khem’s assistance and the use of the Force, so we made our way to where Zash’s information noted a side entrance would be. I dropped down to the ground, then levitated Khem to join me. Still no guards in sight, so I sliced through the door with Zash’s saber and we made our way inside.

 

The map Zash had given us was completely accurate – not necessarily surprising given the love affair the Empire had with standardizing everything, but still quite useful. We would have to disable three monitor stations to bring down the shields to Skotia’s vault, then find our way past whatever security lay inside to acquire the tablet that would allow us to control his Trandoshan bodyguards. I only hoped the task would be as simple as Zash made it sound.

 

I would have preferred to make things as bloodless as possible, but Khem returned to his favorite complaint about not being fed enough. So ended the lives of a half-dozen Sith apprentices and several acolytes before we arrived at the first station. I had even felt a twinge of pity for the last one, a pasty-faced acolyte that was more boy than man. The battle for the first monitor station proved as one-sided as our other fights; the guard captain and his three-man squad proved no challenge whatsoever.

 

The second station proved a far different story, as it was protected by a more seasoned-looking pureblood Sith and her human apprentice, a young woman that looked as ill-prepared for combat as the last acolyte we had faced before the first monitor. When the harsh artificial lighting hit her face just right, she even looked a bit like I had just before the attack on Ithaca. Khem took on her master, while the girl and I exchanged blows somewhat half-heartedly. After a few parries, though, her guard slipped and my saber slid through her ribcage and out her back. I grimaced as she fell backwards, feebly reaching out to grab me, as if holding on would keep her from whatever came afterwards.

 

When I managed to wrench my eyes from her corpse, I realized Khem had also been victorious. He glanced over at the dead girl’s corpse, but I shook my head. In a different time, a different galaxy, she could have been me. Fortunately, any anger on his part was dissipated by arriving at the third station, where we were confronted by a balding, heavyset, man and a pair of young Zabraks in the black cloaks of apprentices.

 

He drew his lightsaber and ignited its purple blade. “I am Lord Ogathu, right hand of Darth Skotia. I will be the end of you, intruder. You, and your pet.”

 

I considered his threat for a moment. “What are you going to do, pray tell? Fall on me, and smother me within your rolls of fat?”

 

Neither he nor his apprentices had time to react as Khem leapt into action, taking full advantage of their distraction. I sent a brief burst of purple lightning at the first apprentice, causing him to jump backwards in shock. Khem advanced steadily on his compatriot while I prepared myself of Ogathu.

 

He feinted to my right with his saber, and shot a wave of Force energy at me that I sidestepped. Frustrated, he threw his saber at me, but I boosted myself away with a burst of speed to escape it, even as it circled back into his hand. “Fight me, you *****!” I could see his chest heaving somewhat; his girth was clearly hampering his efforts. Behind him, I also saw the first apprentice cut in half by Khem, while the second circled around the Dashade uselessly. I dodged another burst of energy, then cartwheeled past his saber, barely noticing how closely it came to singeing my hair.

 

“Your master will not have to mourn you for long, Ogathu. I will be sure to praise your loyalty to him before I send him to join you.” Some dark part of me took perverse pleasure in seeing him sputter in reaction, spittle flying from his wormy lips as he tried to concoct a response that did not involve a childish insult.

 

I would not give him the time to do so.

 

Repeating my tactic from before, I sent a short burst of lightning in his direction to drive him backwards, then caught him full in the face with a longer cast. As he staggered from the blow, I took a page from his playbook and sent a directed blast of force energy towards him. His bulk doomed his attempts to avoid taking the hit; the wave caught him, lifting him up and throwing him against the wall. I saw Khem slice the second apprentice neatly in half as I stalked my prey. We both moved in, closing off any escape route. He realized it, too.

 

“W-wait. I will serve you. I will serve Lord Zash. I will be loyal!”

 

Amusing.

 

“Like you were to Darth Skotia?” My lips curled into a mocking grin.

 

Ogathu gave up any pretense at resistance, making a mad dash for freedom. He made it all of five steps before Khem caught him with one hand, lifting him off the ground. Before I could say or do anything, Khem opened his mouth and Ogathu began to scream. In a matter of moments, the scream dwindled to a thin whistle, a horrible sound I hoped I could soon forget. So this is how Khem feeds.

 

Not wanting to think about it any longer, I waved Khem towards the monitoring station to deactivate the shield. The relic was still waiting, as was whatever else Zash required.

Edited July 31, 2013 by Lesaberisa

Ahem... SQUEE

After we returned the Trandoshan tablet to Zash, I spent the better part of three days doing research at the various libraries scattered throughout the Sith Sanctum. I was thrown out of the first when Khem attempted to consume one of the librarians, and found my research no better off even in those I was allowed to remain in. As on Korriban, there were endless tomes of information on interrogation, torture, and how to most efficiently inflict pain on one’s enemies; there was little more than scraps for describing anything even remotely related to healing. The Sith viewed others as tools to be used and discarded, I wanted to be something more with the time I had.

 

Still, my frustration was building. I would have thrown my hands up and done my best to entertain myself otherwise, but Zash was still using her intelligence apparatus to track down the location of the experimental device we would use against Skotia, and there was simply nothing else to do. I had not wished to remain on Zash’s leash any longer than I had to, but I could already see that that the hope of freedom of action was a false one. So foolish, to believe you would be granted any kind of power or ability to shape events in a meaningful way.

 

Finally, after the third day of fruitless searching, I decided to recognize the futility of what I was doing and took a break. It was a risk to bring Khem to a bar frequented by Force users, but I was not in the mood for sightseeing. We found a booth located with easy access to both the secondary exit and kitchen, in case some other patron caused trouble. I had Khem attend to our drinks so I could sneak a few minutes of Holonet access.

 

I couldn’t search for Ayrs directly, of course, not with the strict monitoring of all information travelling in and out of Dromund Kaas. I can, however, search for information on Republic deployments and information on certain Republic families with substantial financial holdings.

 

There wasn’t much at all of interest about the Martells on Kuat. They had never been an important part of my life, but –apart from Ayrs – they were all the family I had. The news we received in the Empire was heavily censored, though, so there was little to take in apart from some carefully worded editorials outlining supposed corrupt business practices by Demetrius Martell. Similarly, I was unable to find anything even briefly mentioning Ayrs. It’d been so long since he left Ithaca for the academy, and I had hoped he might have managed to find his way into a notable position.

 

Then again, perhaps he’s simply in some kind of special position, in intelligence or special operations.

 

I hurriedly turned the display off as Khem wandered over. He slid a goblet of Alderaanian wine across the table to me, while he began consuming what looked to be some kind of ale from within a large bucket. He sounded almost like a dog as he lapped it up. An ugly, murderous, dog. I decided to be as sociable as possible.

 

“Khem, what do you think of Lord Zash?”

 

He glared at me from over the tip of his bucket. <She is a Sith like any other. She pales in comparison to Tulak Hord, greatest Sith of any time.> He paused to drink another gulp of alcohol. <I do not trust her, though. She hides something behind her smiles.>

 

I nodded. “You are more perceptive than you seem. I agree, though. She is too eager to be my friend, particularly for a Sith master. I do not know what her game is, but we must uncover it before we are caught in some trap.”

 

He was about to respond when my comm beeped an alert. I shushed him with a hand motion and activated it, expecting to hear Zash’s voice. Instead, a robotic voice told me to review a message on my data pad. An odd request, but perhaps Zash had realized I might be somewhere where unwanted ears might overhear something they shouldn’t. I shrugged at Khem and removed my pad from my pack, carefully aiming its screen away from the other patrons in the bar. The message displayed was written in a Sith dialect she must have known I had studied in my spare time.

 

Apprentice, I realize this message might reach you where you cannot speak. My agents have located the device that will assist us in disrupting the cybernetic implants Darth Skotia has, making him far less of a danger to you. To us.

 

A rogue Sith Lord named Grathan has a compound to the southwest of Kaas City. He has been engaged in a protracted…power struggle…with various rivals he has within the Sith hierarchy. Grathan is a mad scientist type, researching all sorts of nefarious weapons and technologies, including ergonomic chairs. You are to report to Captain Sarnova at the Wall, she will brief you further and provide assistance.

 

The datapad’s screen shifted from text to cascading colors. I recognized a memory wipe in progress, and took another sip of wine. The message hadn’t been particularly detailed, but it seemed this Lord Grathan must have been involved in the development of the anti-cybernetic technology; I only hoped it would be worth my time. The speeder trip to the Imperial garrison at the Wall was a long one, taking winding paths through the jungles that seemed more appropriate for a tourist trap than transportation meant to get passengers to and from locations as quickly as possible.

 

We disembarked and made our way to the command post to look for Captain Sarnova. She proved to be a surprise – a pleasant-looking woman that spoke in measured tones and even offered a slight, but very warm, smile when she saw us. It is always a pleasant surprise to run into an Imperial that didn’t seem like a caricature of a holovid villain.

 

“Good to see you, Apprentice. Lord Zash informed me that you would be arriving, so I prepared some additional material for your purview. We’ve lost most of our scouts that we sent for intelligence on Lord Grathan’s compound, so I cannot say much beyond what is on this data pad.” She paused and handed it over to me. Clearly, she had something else on her mind as well.

 

“Is there something else I can assist you with, Captain? I would be glad to provide any assistance I can while I am here.” I waved away the mild grumbling I heard from Khem, especially after I saw the revealing wince from the captain.

 

“Actually…some of my men have gone missing and I was wondering if…perhaps…you might be able to locate them within Lord Grathan’s compound. It would mean a…a great deal to me.” I didn’t need the Force to feel the woman’s pain. “If you find them, tell them….their Duchess is waiting for them.”

 

I had the impulse to reach out to comfort the woman, who feared she had lost her family the same way I had lost mine. Khem huffed loudly, but I ignored him. “Consider it done, Captain.” I decided I need not inquire about the Duchess moniker – most likely it was a nickname her men would understand. Beyond that…it was no matter to me. Khem offered the captain a half-bow, which seemed almost-sincere. I dipped my own head and we returned back to the camp.

 

The almost-pleasant atmosphere was shattered by a shrill voice. “You! What are you doing here?!” I recognized the voice, and felt almost nauseous because of it.

 

Malicineve. Baras’ rabid dog.

 

“Fancy meeting you here, Malicineve,” I called out with faux joviality. “I was so hoping we could renew our acquaintance. It has been far too long.” I executed a perfect mocking bow, which had Khem huffing strangely. “Hello, Vette.”

 

The Sith’s saner half smiled slightly and waved once she was sure that Malicineve couldn’t see her. More steam erupted from the pureblood’s ears , regardless, so I decided to defuse the situation.

 

“Since we will apparently be operating within the same area, shall we try to at least be civil? There is no need to waste energy demonstrating how foolish you are when we can direct that effort at Lord Grathan and his servants.” The insult seemed to fly over her head. “We should combine efforts to get to our respective objectives, then we can go in our separate ways.”

 

Malicineve regarded me with the look a wild animal gets when they are considering whether to launch another attack on their prey, but then relaxed. “Fine. Just don’t get in my way, slave.” I flinched at the word, but nodded. I did notice that she and Vette fell into line behind Khem and me, rather than attempting to take the lead.

 

Lord Grathan’s compound was embarrassingly easy to infiltrate; we were slowed far more by Malicineve’s murderous antics than the actual security. Every time we encountered the smallest patrol, she insisted on wiping it out to the last man or droid, a disgusting display that had even Khem grumbling after not too long; none were Force users, so he could not even feed off of them as she did her dirty work. It took some persuading from Vette, but we finally persuaded her to stop about halfway to the building where Sarnova’s men’s signal was coming from.

 

The place turned out to be some sort of research facility, judging from the large number of frightened men, women and aliens of indeterminate gender in white coats that fled for the door as we entered, reacting to the screams of their now-dead protectors. After cutting our way past the last few members of the garrison, I took stock of our situation and sent a pulse over Sarnova’s appointed frequency to track the transmitter. It proved to be up two levels up, requiring a trip up on a cramped elevator. There was nothing quite as unpleasant as being trapped by a psychopathic Sith on one side and Khem Val’s midriff on the other. I thanked the Force and every deity I could remember when the doors opened to let us out on the third floor.

 

Tracking the signal proved more difficult, as the area was darkened and the staff had apparently evacuated at the first report of trouble. As I wandered the research areas, I heard a robotic voice call out.

 

“Authorization…authorization.” It cut out for a moment, then returned with a more lifelike intonation. “Wait, please do not go.” I used the Force to trace the sound to an odd looking droid strapped into a table I had seen far too often; the hybrid sort used alternatively for medical procedures and torture. In some cases, both. The droid’s eyes lit up as I approached. “Processing…processing. Arrrrrrrgh. Wait! I am Ensign Alistair Booker. Operating number…” I heard some clicking noises and the droid fell silent.

 

“Are you…” I cut myself off; there was no point in asking questions that I already had the answers to. “The Duchess sent me, to find you and the other missing soldiers.” I glanced around the room, not seeing any prisoners. “Are they still here?” I felt tendrils of dread creeping up my spine.

 

“Processing…processing. Mental subroutines at….” Alistair, the droid, whatever he is shook his head again. “They performed experiments on us, implanted us intro droid bodies. Please! Send the override signal from the console. Set us free!”

 

I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as I looked over and saw a command console nestled into an alcove. Another Sith atrocity to place on the scale, another weight on my shoulders that I might never remove. I cupped the droid’s cheek, useless though the gesture was. “I will set you free, do not fear.” I turned quickly, before I risked further displays of weakness, and walked over to the console to begin inputting the override protocols.

 

“Wait!” The shrill voice was back. “What are you doing?”

 

I had to use all of the calming techniques my father had taught me to control my response. “I’m releasing this man and his compatriots from a terrible existence that makes a mockery of the very word.”

 

Malcineve’s intentions were clear through the Force even before she made a move. I was already ducking away from her blade as it slid into existence. “You will do no such thing. These droids will be valuable tools for the Empire, even if you are too short sighted to see it. Step away from the console.” She waved her lightsaber in my direction.

 

“I, I don’t know. I wouldn’t want to live like that.” I wondered if Vette’s voice was shaky because of what she’d seen and heard or because her companion was always one step away from a breakdown.

 

<They would be worthy additions indeed. But an existence such as this is worse than slavery.> It seemed like everyone had an opinion on the matter, though Khem’s was useless like always.

 

No matter, my mind was already made up.

 

I sent a burst of Force energy directly at Malicineve. She was so focused on trying to appear threatening that it caught her completely off-guard, throwing her backwards. I used the opening to reach out to the console with the Force, quickly programming in the shutdown code. Alistair’s droid body released a few sparks, then toppled forward to rest against the restraints that held him in place. I could hear a large number of crashes from somewhere downstairs as well.

 

There was another crash, and more sparks, as Malicineve thrust her saber into a panel. “You stupid, stupid *****!” I knew I should feel at least a little guilty for provoking her so directly, but I could not deny my amusement. “I will report this outrage to Darth Baras himself, and I will be sure to have your head. I will not allow such insolence to go unpunished.” And, with that, she stormed to the elevator, with Vette trailing behind. Once we heard it heading towards the ground floor, Khem and I shared a look.

 

<I have not felt such emotion since the days of Yn and Chabosh.>

 

I looked him squarely in the eye. “Khem. Please, just shut up about that already.” I saw an ugly glint in his eye, but he bowed his head. “Let’s make our way to the main compound and acquire the cybernetic disruptor. The sooner we return to Kaas City, the better.”

 

<Indeed.>

 

As we left, I saw the room full of the droid bodies of Alistair’s fallen comrades. I hoped they were at peace, wherever they were...whatever they had become.

Edited August 5, 2013 by Lesaberisa

The path to Grathan’s main compound was clear of any opposition, though the mutilated corpses along the way belied the otherwise peaceful feeling; evidently, my favorite Sith had continued her rampage once she left the research facility. Lord Zash’s agent had provided a location for the device that would supposedly assist in dealing with Skotia; one of many vaults. As we entered the building, we could hear the sounds of screams echoing through the hallways. One part of me wondered what, exactly, Malicineve was doing here. As a particularly chilling scream reached my ears, I decided that part of me didn’t matter. Some things were better left unknown.

 

We passed empty rooms through even emptier corridors; I felt only occasional flickers in the Force from Grathan’s people in the area. I was not sure whether or not Malicineve was to thank for our easy passage, but there was no time for that. From what Captain Sarnova’s intel stated, Lord Grathan was not one to be trifled with, and if his forces managed to regroup I would rather they focused their energies on the raging maniac elsewhere in the compound and not on Khem or me. Well, perhaps Khem could use some of the slavish devotion to Tulak Hord’s memory driven from him. I smiled at the thought of Tulak Hord losing the only fan he still had. Still, we can attend to that another time.

 

I left Khem at that vault door to cover our escape; I could handle whatever security was left within it, and I did not want him damaging or destroying any potentially valuable material with his clumsiness. The door slid open with a loud snap-tssssssssss, and I strode forward purposefully to find the device within the numerous display cases in the room. I passed what appeared to be tribal masks, torture devices and other electronic items whose purpose I could only guess at. Perhaps it is for the best that I do not recognize everything.

 

The device I was looking for was easy enough to spot, as it matched Zash’s description perfectly; two generators, elongated handle, and a big enough energy presence to drown out the signatures of basically everything else in the room. I reached out and grabbed it with both hands, cradling it like I would a baby. With nothing else to keep me there, I retraced my steps back to the hallway, where Khem was standing watch. For a moment it sounded as if he was humming a tune, but I decided that the stress from dealing with Malicineve was simply getting to me.

 

<Have you completed your task, Little Sith?> I nodded, continuing past him and towards the entrance. He realized within moments that I did not intend to have a conversation, so he fell in line behind me. <Your skill is impressive. I believe even Tulak Hord might have found a use for you.>

 

As always, I wasn’t entirely sure how to ready Khem’s statement, though he seemed about as sincere as I could reasonably expect him to be. Not that it matters; Khem Val is not exactly someone to get friendly with. He probably spends his nights dreaming of the day he can consume you.

 

Grathan’s compound was much like it had been when we first entered the main building; judging from the eerie quiet, whatever Malicineve was doing was keeping the garrison quite busy. So much the better for me, though some part of me grimaced at the thought of what she was probably doing to the men, women and droids being sent after her. There was nothing I could do for them, though, and it meant that Khem and I were able to return to Captain Sarnova without any incident. It will not make giving her the news any easier.

 

She heard us come in and snapped to attention. I waved away the formal pretenses; being a Sith did not make me superior to her in any way, and I wanted her to know and understand that I felt more than perfunctory pity for her.

“I’m glad to see you’ve returned safely. Have you – have you discovered anything about my missing soldiers?” Her expression was a mixture of hope and dread, the kind that people seem to always have when asking a question they know they might not want the answer to. I decide to be as circumspect as possible; the news would be hard enough for her to take without revealing all of the unpleasant details.

 

I placed my hand gently on her shoulder, a gesture that seemed to surprise her as much as my reasonableness had earlier. “I’m sorry, Captain, there was nothing I could do. Grathan had been performing experiments on them.. They are at peace now.” I eyed her cautiously, to see if my story was accepted. I certainly hope they are at peace, after all that Grathan put them through. I shuddered slightly at the mental imagery, then took a moment to control myself. The last thing she needed was to realize that even a terrible Sith had been disturbed by the sights inside. “Rest assured, Grathan will pay for what he did.”

 

The light in her eyes dimmed slightly, and she looked far less lively than she had only moments before. “I had…I had hoped for better news.” Her professional veneer slipped for a moment, as her head lowered. She propped it up slightly in one hand, then shook herself before facing me again. “Regardless, I appreciate the time and effort you expended on checking for me. It means a great deal to me.” She eyed me warily. “For military purposes, of course.”

 

I had forgotten my hand was already on her shoulder, but squeezed slightly once I did. “You need not be ashamed. Caring for one’s soldiers, for one’s people is a greater strength than being able to terrorize them with technology or the Force. I just wish I had brought better news.” I withdrew the hand and let it dangle awkwardly beside me. “Unfortunately, I have other matters to attend to for the moment, but should you ever require assistance in the future, you should know you can always ask it of me.” A largely empty promise, most likely, but one that she deserves.

 

She smiled tremuously, then saluted as I offered a slight bow.

 

Khem was silent on the trip to Kaas City. In fact, he hadn’t said anything at all since we left Grathan’s compound. Normally, I would accept this as a blessing – no pithy comments about what a weak and unworthy Sith I was, no rambling stories about the glories of Tulak Hord. I wondered if he was plotting against me somehow, perhaps seeking a more brutal master.

 

Zash was waiting for me at her office; really more of an alcove within the complex. Skotia’s other subordinates had been granted much larger quarters, which suggested that Zash was as much in her master’s crosshairs as I was. I wasn’t quite sure if that was an opportunity or not, but I did know it scared me. Sith power struggles were rather famous for their collateral damage. Zash herself was hardly any more impressive than her office – her robes were fraying and she looked gaunt, almost as if her skin were drawn too tightly around her skeleton.

 

“My apprentice, it is good to see you.” Her smile looked warm, but there was no genuine emotion behind it. “I received a message from Captain Sarnova after you left; she was quite impressed with your work. As am I.”

I knew I should bow at least a little, but I would be damned before I bowed willingly to a Sith. Instead, I gave a curt nod of my head. “Indeed. I was able to resolve a situation for her while still acquiring the device you desired from Lord Grathan’s compound.”

 

She grimaced slightly. “Yes, she was very grateful for your assistance in ascertaining the fate of her men. A generous gesture, yes, but one that put you at great risk from what I understand. What if the situation had proven dangerous, or Darth Baras’ mad dog had been willing to resort to violence? You should not risk yourself like that, you are too valuable – to the Empire and to me.”

 

Something about the way she said that raised goose bumps on my arms, but I could not say what. Instead – wisely, I think – I kept quiet.

 

Zash rose from her chair, standing somewhat unsteadily as she stretched her arms out to either side of her. Her normally handsome features were definitely not at their best, and she moved as though she were a much older woman than she really was. “Never mind that. Darth Baras will deal with his apprentice, and she should no longer prove a concern to you.”

 

“She is a concern to anyone that might get in her way, my Lord.” I frowned at her lack of understanding. “Even if she does not target either of us directly, her destructiveness could easily prove to be a great obstacle.”

 

She dismissed my concerns with a haughty wave of her hand. “We can deal with any such obstacles if and when they are presented. For now, we must focus on the enemy at hand, Skotia.” She motioned towards the chair across the desk from her, so I pulled it out and sat down. Its magenta seat smelled old, almost musty. I wondered how old it was. “Skotia spends his days in his office, guarded by his Trandoshan servants. With the tablet you acquired from his bunker, you should be able to break through their conditioning and use them against him. Then, you can use Grathan’s device against Skotia and strike him down.”

 

Zash offered me a sly smile that made me feel slightly uneasy. Something else struck me as odd about what she had said.

 

“And where will you be, my Lord?” I raised an eyebrow.

 

“If the Dark Council believes I was responsible for Darth Skotia’s death, they will strike back against me. Against us. The Dark Council tolerates a great deal from its subordinates, but a naked power play will only provoke a reaction. I must be clearly innocent of moving against Skotia if my plans are to move forward.”

 

Her plans, I noted. Not ours. “So I shall be the one to strike Skotia down.” I approximated a feral grin that she appeared to accept as genuine. “What shall I do after I finish?”

 

“Meet me at the Nexus Room Cantina, second level. We’ll have much to discuss.” With that, she pushed past me, pointedly ignoring Khem as she left the room. The Dashade looked at me with a quizzical expression.

 

<I do not like this plan of Zash, she attempts to keep her hands clean while still claiming the glory of the kill. It is unseemly. The witch is not to be trusted.>

 

He was probably right, but I was too distracted to care. I had a Dark Lord of the Sith to kill.

Edited August 13, 2013 by Lesaberisa

Minor note: Since there are (I'm guessing) people who read both topics, I am writing the next bit for Ayrs/my trooper, but I was trying to catch Veresia up a bit. Thanks!

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

I waited in Zash’s office for half an hour – if her plan required her to be safely in sight of others for an alibi, she would need time to get somewhere public. In any case, challenging a Dark Lord of the Sith was a fair bit different than ambushing the likes of Spindrall or dealing with a preening fool like Ffon Althe. The latter triumph brought a small smile to my lips, but it died after only a moment. It was difficult to feel anything more than a vague sense of satisfaction after what had happened to Kory, especially realizing what else it had cost me.

 

Khem looked ready so speak, so I forestalled him with a gesture. “No, Khem, we don’t need to base our tactics on what Tulak Hord would have done.” That unwanted and undeserved smile crept back across my lips as he slammed both of his hands down on the table in frustration. “Tut, tut. We can discuss battle tactics another time. Fighting Skotia will require a more subtle approach.”

 

I activated the dossier that Zash had put together for me; Skotia would be a formidable opponent – skilled with a lightsaber, and proficient in combining that skill with Force powers.

 

“Khem, I will need you to engage him with your vibrosword – I am not nearly skilled enough with a saber to deal with Skotia. So long as you keep him distracted, though, I can finish him off with a burst of lightning. We need to end the fight quickly, before he has a chance to get comfortable. The dossier states that he is a meticulous planner and pays an unusual amount of attention to detail – if we are too slow, he will formulate a plan and execute it. And us.”

 

His response wasn’t particularly important.

 

I slowly rose from my chair and motioned for him to follow as I passed him and entered the hallway outside. We marched in unison, as regimented as the Imperial troopers that regularly paraded through the streets of Kaas City in a transparent reminder of Imperial power…and the potential for Imperial cruelty. Even with the strange-looking artifact in one hand and the electronics device in the other, we encountered no resistance, merely a few cautious looks out of the sides of eyes. I was almost afraid to admit it, but there was something refreshing about being the one that others tread carefully around.

It was certainly more empowering than cowering beneath a whip or cringing at the activation of a collar.

 

We entered Skotia’s office, ignoring the protests of his secretarial droid. He was seated comfortably behind his desk, flanked on either side of him by his Trandoshan bodyguards. At the sound of my approach, he raised his gaze and gave me an amused look.

 

“Well, if it isn’t Lord Zash’s newest toy. Come to make a fool out of yourself again?”

 

His good humor was so obviously forced that even the Trandoshans could not help but shoot him a glance. <What would you have us do, Master?>

 

There was no mirth in Skotia’s tone when he responded. “Kill her. Now.” His bodyguards nodded, then began to advance.

 

“Tut, tut. Assaulting a lady is hardly proper behavior.” As Skotia rolled his eyes, I produced the relic before me. “After all, I believe this might mean more to you than your master’s commands do. Former master.” I sensed Khem nodding in approval, which surprised me – I would not have thought him capable of feeling sympathy. “You are free now, to live your own lives.”

 

Skotia scowled. “Clever girl.”

 

<We thank you for this, but first there is something we must do.> I sensed what the Trandoshans meant to do before they had even moved. Unfortunately for them, so did Skotia. Even as they charged in, he sent one flying backwards against the wall with the Force, and lifted the other off the ground with his hand, crushing the Trandoshan’s throat as he did so. Skotia loosened his grip, letting the corpse slide down the pillar to collapse in a heap on the floor. The other Trandoshan wasn’t moving, and I couldn’t sense either of them in the Force. So far things were going almost precisely as I expected. Terribly.

 

The Sith lord leapt at us with a roar.

 

I rolled away, levitating one of the Trandoshan corpses and using it as cover. I winced as Skotia’s lightsaber sliced through the graying scales, cutting the body in half. “You must be taught a lesson, you impudent whelp. Zash has filled your head with foolish dreams of power. You will be dust, ground beneath my feet.” He was giving off a faint red glow that I did not recognize.

 

Khem launched himself at Skotia but ran into an invisible wall, then flew backwards as the hulking cyborg casually flicked a wrist. The Dashade shook the blow off, but something was clearly paining him.

 

The cyborg. You fool.

 

I looked down at the device we had acquired from Lord Grathan, then pushed the red button. For a moment there was no reaction from anyone or anything, Then, answering the prayers I had not even begun to think of, sparks began to fly from Skotia’s armor. He fell to his knees, convulsing as if he was having a seizure. His lightsaber nearly slipped from his grip before he shook his head to clear what must have been very painful cobwebs. He turned to spear me with a hateful glare.

 

“You are full of cheap tricks, it is no wonder that Zash is so fond of you. Neither of you would dare face me in combat, so you resort to pathetic games.”

 

I smiled sweetly at him. “If you were interested in fighting fair, Skotia, you wouldn’t have augmented yourself so thoroughly with cybernetics. Spell me the moralizing; you are like any other Sith, and the galaxy will be a better place with you no longer in it.”

 

Both Khem and Skotia reacted with somewhat befuddled looks as I moved in towards Skotia; the Dashade recovered quickly enough to mirror my approach from the opposite side. I felt a surge in the Force; it flowed through me with an intensity I had never felt before. Perhaps it was due to the tools Zash’s research and our work had provided me, perhaps it was merely the realization that – underneath all the armor and power – Skotia was simply another pathetic Sith bully. Perhaps you are merely tapping into the darkness around you.

 

Skotia brought his saber back behind him, then aimed a violent overhand slash at Khem’s head. It would have decapitated my companion had he not slid to his right, dodging the blow and throwing the cyborg off balance. Khem swung his own blade down in a vicious arc; the attack would have decapitated Skotia had he not rolled out of the way to avoid it. Unfortunately for him, the roll also left him completely vulnerable to me. I sent him flying backwards with a blast of Force energy, staggering him and leaving him gasping. It’s not just his cybernetics that were damaged.

 

Khem came for him, lumbering towards Skotia like an out of control bantha; Skotia saw him coming, and was able to deflect three straight slashes from Khem’s blade, but was helpless against my Force lightning. I sprayed it at him again and again and again, driving him backward until, at last, his legs gave out and he collapsed to the floor, convulsing. I walked slowly over to where he lay sprawled on the ground, enjoying every step.

 

“You…Zash will betray you too.” His voice was weak, fading. “She will strike you down just as she struck me down.” He reached out for his lightsaber, but the hilt was well beyond his grasp.

 

“She didn’t kill you. I killed you.” I inverted my lightsaber so the blade was facing down. "I will be glad to be rid of you."

 

“Why?” He seemed genuinely confused. “For a treacherous master? For your own personal gain? Do you really think you are accomplishing anything?”

 

I smirked down as I slid my blade through his back and out his stomach. He gave out a small gasp, then was still. “You are a Dark Lord of the Sith. Ridding the galaxy of you is an accomplishment in itself. Now, do us all a favor, and die quickly. I’m to have drinks with a friend at the cantina.”

 

Thankfully, he did as was asked. I felt him fade into the Force to enter whatever hell the likes of Skotia were sent to. I was shaking slightly, so I took a pair of deep breaths to calm myself. It wasn’t for me. It was for Kory, my friends, my family. For the galaxy. I knew that I would believe it, soon enough.

 

Zash was on the second floor of the cantina, looking as bored by the nobles and aristocrats around here as I would have been in her shoes. She was sipping on a bright pink drink as Khem and I entered the room, and though she tried to by coy and pretend to only notice me in reaction to the others staring at Khem, I knew she had sensed our arrival long before. Zash directed us to her table with a sharp nod of her head.

 

“It is good to see you apprentice. Already there are whispers of a shocking death at the Sith Sanctum.” She winked slyly. “Surely you know nothing about that, though.”

 

I thought back on what Skotia had said about Zash. “Surely not.”

 

She smiled slightly and took a sip of her drink. “I have one last task for you, apprentice. In the Dark Temple, outside of Kaas City, there are some relics that I have discovered a need for. You are the perfect one to retrieve them. Seek them out and bring them back to my office.”

 

I frowned. “’Dark Temple’? The Sith seem to have an obsession with overcompensating when naming their buildings. No doubt, next you’ll be sending me to a Temple of Doom.”

 

A loud beep from her communicator interrupted whatever reply she would have given. She glanced down and I heard a sharp intake of breath. Zash took a moment to compose herself, and then slid a datapad across the table to me. “Review this somewhere secure. Unfortunately, it appears Darth Skotia’s superior noticed your activities as well. I best put my best face forward.”

 

As I left the room, I glanced over my shoulder and saw her talking to the holo of an old, somewhat imposing-looking man. I gave him a quick look-over, and exited. Khem followed behind, like a faithful pet.

 

Perhaps he can be the next Sith that will fall before me.

Edited August 15, 2013 by Lesaberisa

 

 

 

As Khem and I traveled west out of the city, I wondered what Zash was saying to Thanaton. There could be no other reason for his call but anger at the news of Skotia’s death, and I did not imagine that Zash would think twice at abandoning even a promising apprentice if it would ensure her own survival. Such was the way of the Sith, after all. I would be ready if the betrayal came, though. At least as ready as one could be if confronted by the wrath of the Dark Council, I suppose. It would be enough to strike as many blows as I could before falling, to rid the galaxy of as many Sith as I could.

 

Father would not have approved of such thinking , but I doubt there was much about me that Father wouldn’t have found contrary to his beliefs. Of course, Father had never spent several years of his life as an Imperial slave, and he hadn’t lost everything in his life to end up there, either. Just as on Korriban, the entire world radiated Dark Side power but, more than that, there was the overwhelming nature of the emotions powering that strength. Despair, fear, hopelessness; even the citizens of Dromund Kaas lived an existence akin to slavery. It was an evil system, one that needed to be broken, and no Jedi platitudes would change that.

 

For now, though, I needed to focus. Zash’s information had placed Tulak Hord’s artifact in a small chamber in one of the uppermost levels of the Dark Temple. I had only made cursory studies of the Temple so far, but what I had read suggested it was a dangerous place for the well-prepared, let alone those weighed down by their own personal baggage. Or a particularly onerous traveling partner.

 

I glared at Khem’s back, trying to determine if I could use the Force to turn my vision into laser beams. We had encountered an Imperial outpost along the way to the Dark Temple, and Khem – against my orders – had eaten the Sith apprentice stationed there. The Imperial troopers at the outpost had meekly accepted her fate, but I knew I would have to bring him to heel. Doing Zash’s bidding would get me in enough trouble as it was, I did not need a homicidal Dashade adding to my troubles. For his part, Khem had expressed no remorse, merely commenting that the apprentice had been ‘satisfying’.

 

Fortunately, he had managed to restrain himself for the rest of our journey to the temple grounds, despite the temptations presented by the elderly Sith lord and his apprentice at the outermost outpost. There was a strange sense of palpable fear and desperation from the small garrison there, something I did not understand fully until we had passed them on, ignoring their requests for aid with their respective missions. I did not have the time to play the tourist in a temple infested by Sith and the dark side of the Force, nor did I have the inclination to assist those that served the Empire unless they proved they were more than lackeys.

 

The approach to the Dark Temple proved more treacherous than I imagined, as Khem and I had discovered increasing numbers of corrupted Imperials along the way. Some were Sith who had sought the knowledge hidden within but had failed to understand the steep price that they would have to pay. More troubling were their slaves; already deprived of their freedom, they had now lost everything. A few of them attacked us as we climbed the path, but they were no match for my command of the Force and Khem’s vibrosword. It was distasteful work, only made tolerable by telling myself that I was liberating these people from what was essentially a non-existence.

 

I wasn’t quite sure if I believed that.

 

Khem led the way into the temple proper, slashing a couple of mind-controlled archaeologists bearing the mark of Darth Baras. I sensed he was nervous about something, unusually so, though I did not think it was wise to ask him for details. It is not entirely surprising that a rational being would feel some trepidation at playing the tourist in a place like this. Perhaps he also realized the depths of my anger over his consumption of the Sith apprentice and was trying to atone by sparing me the usual stories of his battlefield prowess.

 

Zash’s intelligence directed us up seemingly endless stairwells, higher and higher up in the temple. I heard all sorts of awful noises coming from the floors we passed, and on at least two occasions I felt the very ground beneath us shake from what sounded and felt like explosions. Even Khem seemed increasingly unsettled by the place, so it was with a palpable sense of relief that we arrived at the level Zash had marked on my data pad. If her information was correct, the relic we were seeking was within a chamber on the far side of the temple, but the little time I had spent here already made me wonder if I wanted to be anywhere near a Sith relic from here.

And, of course, it is Zash that sent you to acquire it rather than doing so herself.

 

There were no crazed Sith or Imperials around the chamber or the path to it, no strange displays of Force energy or the supernatural, yet I felt frightened all the same. There was a chill in the air; not the chill of a crisp early morning, but the kind of chill that creeps into your bones and drains you of your will to go on. There was something wrong about this place, something terribly wrong, but I could not identify it. Despite Zash’s effusive praise, I knew that my knowledge of places such as this was just enough to get me in trouble.

 

I noticed graffiti on the door as it slid open at Khem’s touch, written in ancient Sith script, I could not decipher it quickly enough, apart from the word traitor. Normally, I would have chalked it up to the insane residents of the Temple, but there was nothing normal about this place; there was a large altar in the center of the room, covered in cobwebs and radiating Dark Side energy. Around the room were lit candles….and nothing else.

 

<I do not like this, Little Sith>, Khem intoned. <There is something foul about this place, not darkness, but something worse.>

 

I shivered and pulled my robe tighter around me, for what little good it did. “Agreed, Khem. The artifact must be in this altar somewhere. Perhaps we should locate it and leave as soon as possible.”

 

He nodded eagerly and began surveying the area around the altar, while I carefully slid my hands around it searching for a panel or switch, something that must be there to activate whatever mechanism was required to reveal the artifact. I was so caught up in what I was doing that I never heard the silent footsteps; only his voice revealed his presence.

 

“You! what are you doing here?” I turned, my heart beating a million times a minute as I tried to understand how I could have been so sloppy.

 

I had only begun to process the ephemeral nature of the speaker when I felt my throat constrict, felt my feet leave the ground. A Force spirit…with the power to manifest its will here. I struggled desperately against it, but I was helpless; even Khem was tossed aside like a ragdoll when he attempted to intervene. Had I any breath, I might have laughed at the sheer absurdity of the situation; to come so far only to fail like this. There were white spots appearing in my vision when I suddenly felt the pressure on my throat relax. I tumbled to the ground, coughing and gasping for air.

 

“Blood of my blood, you have returned to me.” The spirit seemed strangely…pleased. “Daughter of however many daughters, at last we may have our revenge.”

 

I glared at the ghost. “Have you ever considered starting your conversations with a simple ‘hello’?” I brushed some dust off my robe and rubbed my throat gingerly as I stood up. “Who is this we, and what do you mean by blood of your blood?”

 

“You…you do not recognize me? Aloysius Kallig?” The spirit sounded confused. “I am your ancestor, you are the blood of my blood.”

 

Khem bristled at the name, but remained silent. “That name means nothing to me, and I am not your descendant. I am Veresia Martell, daughter of Montclair and Valeria. My father’s family were Jedi, not Sith and my mother’s family were…” my voice trailed off slightly. “Bankers.” Khem huffed loudly; I suspected it was to cover a laugh. “And soldiers too, for the Republic.” I hoped I didn’t sound as defensive as I felt.

 

The ghost –Kallig - was silent for a moment. “I do not understand. Has my family fallen so far that it turned to the Republic? To the Jedi?”

 

I did not like his tone of voice, or its implications. “There is no way to fall any further than being a Sith.”

 

“And yet…I sense that you are more of a Sith than you want to admit. I feel your anger at a great loss, your desire to strike out for vengeance. Why do you deny that which gives you strength?” He did not give me time to respond. “It does not matter. Your station in life is as much my fault as yours, and you will see the error of your judgment.”

 

This was all too much. “You still haven’t even told me who you are, save for a name that means nothing to me. Or why I should care about anything you have to say.”

 

The spirit shifted its weight, a strange gesture for an intangible Force ghost. “I was the greatest general of Tulak Hord, and his closest ally.” He shifted his view to stare directly at Khem. “Until he betrayed me. As his creature will betray you.” He pointed an accusatory finger at my Dashade friend, which I waved aside.

 

“Rest assured, I am watching Khem as closely as he watches me. He is more of a servant than a friend, anyway.” I turned to see Khem staring angrily at me. “A partner, rather. A junior partner.” The spirit looked mollified. “What would you have me do then, ‘blood of my blood’?” I arched my eyebrow as high as it would go.

 

“Be wary of the Dashade, daughter of my daughters. Be wary of your master, it is the way of the Sith to betray those they are close to. That is how it was with me, that is how it will be with you if you do not heed my advice. I seek only to preserve my line, to protect you.”

 

I waved his statements away with my hand. “No, you seek to use me for your own purposes, whatever they might be. There are no Sith that place any value in the lives and dreams of others, only delusional fools that manage to convince themselves as much.”

 

The spirit sounded almost sad. “What does that make you, blood of my blood?”

 

I felt sudden heat in my cheeks. I do not need to suffer this any longer. I shook a fist in its direction, for whatever good it would do. “Be gone, spirit. I have no more time to waste on you.” My voice was shaking and uncertain.

 

Surprisingly, it left without any complaint, though something in the air whispered “I will be watching” as it did so. I shuddered, and drew my robes closer still, warmed only by the absence of the spirit.

 

<Sith spirits are deceitful and seek only unnatural things, Little Sith. I will destroy it if it appears again.> I would never have thought Khem’s voice could be reassuring, but for a moment it was. <Though this one was not completely useless. It has revealed the location of the artifact, which we may return to the witch.>

 

I let him pick the object up; it appeared to be a map of some kind. We didn’t speak the entire way back.

 

 

 

Zash’s conversation with Thanaton had apparently gone well enough, because she was no longer at the Cantina when we returned to Kaas City. The bartender, once relieved of the foolish notion that I might be interested in having dinner with him, helpfully remembered that she had returned to her office and had requested my presence. I let the bartender go with a sharp nod, which left him cowering in fear behind the bar. I was able to suppress my satisfied laugh until after I had left the room, sparing whatever was left of his ego.

 

As we walked to her office, I turned the artifact from the temple over and over in my hands, attempting to determine what about it made it important enough to be worthy of Zash’s attention. I wasn’t simply curious; there was something off about Zash, and anything that was this important to her therefore became important to me, for self-preservation, if nothing else.

 

I tried my damnedest not to think about the ghost at the temple. I had not sense deceit in its words, despite my best efforts, but that might not mean anything at all. The spirit might just be particularly adept at lying; that would hardly be a surprise for a former Sith. It might not even be possible to detect such emotion from a Force apparition, I did not know. There had been precious little information about such matters in the libraries I had spent time in, and I had had no reason to investigate further.

 

Until now.

 

No matter how many times I told myself what it had said was not true - could not possibly be true -there was a niggling sense of dread in the back of my mind I could not escape. Mother’s side of the family was well documented, given its profile, but Father had spoken little of his family and the Jedi were not exactly the type to leave ancestral records available for investigation – either by the public or family. Could our Force sensitivity be due to being descendants of some ancient Sith lord? I did not know the answer, but I had not even thought to ask it until an hour ago. I would need to investigate – carefully, quietly – and see what I could unearth.

 

Zash’s office resembled a war zone; Khem seemed particularly annoyed by that after stubbing his foot against a Sith artifact of some kind that was lying on the floor. Zash herself was absent-mindedly muttering to herself while going through some of her belongings. She didn’t seem to hear my approach, so I cleared my throat to get her attention. Softly at first, then more emphatically when she didn’t respond to the first attempt. Whatever she was doing proved quite engrossing, though, as I nearly hacked up a lung before I was able to get her attention.

 

She favored me with a faint smile, though I sensed it wasn’t entirely sincere. I wonder how many times she gave Skotia that same smile, all the while plotting and hoping for his death. She clapped her hands together as she spoke. “Good news, apprentice. I was able to convince Thanaton of the injustice of the charges that I killed Darth Skotia. Indeed, he was so taken by me that he has raised me to the rank of Dark Lord of the Sith and presented me with Skotia’s office. My office.” She was positively beaming.

 

“Does that make me a Lord then?” I gave my voice a hint of eagerness, as any self-respecting Sith would be feeling. It was easy enough because I was eager for a promotion, simply not for the reasons Zash would expect – a Sith Lord would be far better placed for ensuring that…things...occurred to those that deserved them.

 

“Patience, apprentice. All in good time. For now, I have a mission for you, an extended one.” She gripped the artifact I had extended with my right hand in her left, while tracing the outline of another one on her desk with her right. “I have determined that this is a map to various artifacts of Tulak Hord that I require. I need you to get them for me, apprentice. It will be difficult; you will be required to travel through dangerous territory throughout the galaxy, but when we have gathered these relics, our march forward will be impossible to resist.” She twisted her lips in what was probably meant to be a reassuring smile but was merely disconcerting.

 

<What is your plan for these relics?> Khem’s tone was decidedly hostile. To be fair, he probably is concerned she intends to desecrate Tulak Hord’s memory or artifacts in some way. And he’s probably correct.

 

Zash’s response was directed at me rather than Khem. “I’m sure you can find some way to assuage his concerns. In the meantime, I require his absence while I describe out first steps.”

 

I pondered that for a moment, then shrugged my shoulders at Khem, sighing softly. He stared at me with unblinking eyes for a long moment, but his posture relaxed and he nodded in mute agreement. Once he left the room, I released a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding in.

 

“Well, that was rather awkward.” There was the slightest hint of amusement in her eyes. “In any case, I wished to speak with you about this mission I am sending you on. The ritual I am preparing requires various artifacts that once belonged to Tulak Hord. The first is located on the world of Balmorra, I trust you’ve heard of it?”

 

Of course I have, my parents had met there.

 

“Yes, a Republic world that they abandoned to Imperial rule following the war. If I’m not mistaken, there are rumors that the local populace has not been entirely…receptive…to the Empire.” I should have stopped there, but I could not quite help myself. “It is truly shocking that they don’t recognize the benefits of living under the heel of Imperial troops.”

 

My ‘master’ gave me a puzzled look, but she radiated a cool menace rather than genuine confusion. “Careful, apprentice, not all ears on Dromund Kaas are as friendly as mine.” She gave me a snake’s smile before continuing. “Among Skotia’s many possessions that are now mine was a starship which I now give to you in lieu of a promotion. I hope it serves your purposes well.”

 

It mostly felt like a grotesque caricature of when my mother had given me the activation key to our speeder for the first time, but I managed to squelch the impulse to let Zash know. Instead, I nodded.

 

“Regardless of your political beliefs, we have work that must be done. I’ve arranged for a briefing on the local situation by Imperial Intelligence; your contact will be waiting for you in the Nexus Room Cantina. Look for the female Chiss wearing the gray uniform. Do remember to behave.” Her tone suddenly became painfully light. “Best of luck, apprentice!”

 

I tilted my head down slightly, and exited the room, slowing down just enough to allow Khem to fall into step beside me. He still seemed troubled by what Zash had said, but continued the moody silence he had drifted into for so much of our time on Dromund Kaas. Hopefully returning to our favorite haunt will liven him up again.

 

Our contact from intelligence was surprisingly easy to find, given her line of work, mostly because she was the only patron that didn’t appear awkward and utterly out of place in a social environment. Then again, she probably wanted to make this as painless as possible, particularly if her opinion of Sith was as low as mine was. I felt a mixture of accomplishment and relief that I had done enough research at Korriban to know what a Chiss was, though, as gawking at her like a tourist might have made things somewhat awkward.

 

She smiled slightly as she watched me approach her table, her red eyes somehow warm and not nearly as threatening as I had assumed they would be. “Nice to meet you, Veresia. I’m Mina.” She shook my hand, but made no effort to rise from the table. “I was told to assist your mission on Balmorra by briefing you on some of the pertinent details.” She sighed heavily and took a drink from her glass, which was filled with a fizzy green beverage. “I’ve got other assignments, so we’ll have to make this quick.”

 

I nodded, hiding any noticeable reaction by taking an unreasonably large gulp of water.

 

“Good.” She smoothed a crease in her blouse. Her tone, like so many that I had encountered during my life in the Empire was a genial one that masked cold steel. The iron fist cloaked by the velvet glove, as my mother would have said. “The item you are being sent to receive is located in a bunker belonging to the former Balmorran government known as Vault 305. Unfortunately, its precise location was lost, and assets on the ground are occupied by the threat presented by the Balmorran resistance.”

 

I raised an eyebrow at her. “Is the Empire truly having so much difficulty?”

 

She smiled another fake smile. “not so much that your little quest will be interrupted, if that’s what you mean. Your contact on Balmorra will be a Major Bessiker, from the Imperial military. He has a long career of solid, if undistinguished, service, but his son could prove problematic. He has…unique talents with the Force, but has proven to be an obstacle to various operations.”

 

“Because he’s a Sith? I’ve heard they’re quite troublesome.”

 

The barest hint of a genuine smile crossed her lips, but she quashed it. “Yes. Quite.” Her eyes traced the outline of my face, strangely, before she continued. “Though, I’ve heard that there are some within their ranks that aren’t entirely irredeemable.” Her gaze settled on me with a knowing look. “Such as…the daughter of a Jedi and Republic soldier.”

 

I felt my heartbeat rising to unhealthy levels, and saw Khem rise to his feet. It was only then that I realized she had had no reaction to his presence at all, none of the fear and loathing that others displayed without hesitation or shame. I waved gently at him to sit down. I understood. She is me.

 

I smiled at her. “It is difficult to live life as the outcast, apart from everyone around you no matter what you do or say.”

 

Her eyes brightened slightly, and her shoulders relaxed noticeably. “Yes, it’s quite a challenge at times. Particularly when you can’t even look at someone without them thinking you’re trying to mind-control them. Or worse.” She gestured towards her eyes.

 

“I understand completely; being a Sith apprentice makes socializing rather difficult, particularly when I am in such strange company.” I nodded in Khem’s direction; Mina seemed amused by his huff of disgust.

 

Mina snorted. “I travel with a sociopathic Rattataki murderer. You’ve got nothing on me.” She paused, her expression turning suddenly serious. “Speaking of which, she’s been gone a rather long time. I best be sure she hasn’t committed any felonies.” She pushed a data pad across the table to me while looking around the cantina with a look of obvious concern. "Everything else you'll need is on here."

 

I stood up, carefully pocketing the pad. “You’ve been quite helpful; I look forward to harassing you and your Intelligence colleagues again someday.”

 

She laughed lightly and shook my hand. “I don’t doubt you will.”

 

As we left the cantina, Khem finally broke his disgruntled silence. <You are very strange, Little Sith.>

 

I turned my head so he did not see me smile. Coming from him, that was practically a compliment.

Edited September 1, 2013 by Lesaberisa